#yuh dramatic lighting

[rueclfer]

saturdays are for the blondes // fratboy smau part three

a/n: bakugou probs gives the bare fucking minimum as a frat boy like barely participates in the campaigns and rushes/recruitments and the only reason why he hasn't gotten booted yet is bc he's frat president kirishima's scary dog best friend and helps him make decisions lmao *written under cut*

denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, hawks

"Embarrassing how much effort I put in for a man who doesn't even want me." You dramatically sigh as you gently tilt Katsuki's head back by his chin, and holding the opening of a chilled bottle of water up to his lips.

Walking out to see him alone under the dim buzzing light barely hanging onto to the roof and hunched over a bush with his palm pressed against the side of the frat house to hold himself up was a sad sight for you to see, but you couldn't help but enjoy the rare humiliation.

He scowls and swats your hand away, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand.

"The fuck are you talking about?" He coughs into the collar of his shirt.

"What? Am I wrong?" You press your lips together, suppressing a growing smile, and setting the empty bottle on the window ledge beside you

He rubs his temple in annoyance, clearly not near sober enough to have a conversation about his feelings. "Irritating as fuck is what you are."

With the noise of the party and thumping music leaking from inside of the house, you two were left alone by yourselves in the side yard with the occasional person or two stepping out for a smoke or to vomit.

"I'm just teasing, Kats." You chuckle, reaching up to rake your fingers through the sweaty strands of hair glued to his forehead. "It's not that serious."

"I told you not to come out here, didn't I?" He mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the wall.

"Well, Denki's occupied with the other brothers and I'm not going to leave you out here yacking in the bushes."

He remains silent for a moment, lazily intertwining his fingers with yours and swinging your hands from side to side.

"Dumbass." He murmurs under his breath. "Too nice for your own good."

"Trust me, I know." You roll your eyes. "Let's get you to your room? You look like you might drop any second." You attempt to wiggle your hand out of his iron grasp.

"It's too god damn loud in there." He groans "Stay here with me."

His flushed cheeks and swollen lips made his usual scowl falter into a perpetual pout, making your nerves twitch and it impossible to say no to him.

"You're not scared of anyone seeing us like this? Being so close? Me taking care of you?" You peer around for any sign of watching eyes.

"Like it matters. Everyone knows you're mine- or they should at least." He tightens his grip on your hand.

"Yeah? Prove it, then" You challenge, sparking a quirk of interest in his eyes.

A lazy smirk grows on his lips as he looks down at you through his lashes, scanning every corner of your face before he pulls you in against his chest and leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

"You wanna give everyone inside a show or some shit?" He mutters against your lips, peppering kisses in between every few words. "Give me 10 minutes with you out here and I can sober up real fuckin quick."

"That, or also," You wrap an arm around his torso, and the other slapping a hand over his mouth, pushing his face away. "you can ask me out on a date, dipshit."

He narrowed his eyes, furrowing his brows in the process.

"Nu uh. No fucking way. You don't want to go out with me."

"Yuh huh." You mock his drunken childish tone, keeping your hand clasped over his mouth. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I think I love you." He muffles behind your hand. "So that'll be a fucking wreck for both of us."

"Wha-"

He pulls your hand away from his mouth and cuts you off with his lips with more desperation and force as he pulls you closer to him by the back of your neck and grip around your waist.

An efficient way to shut you up.

"Don't remind me about that tomorrow, alright?" He mutters against your lips, knowing well that if there's one thing his mind will cling onto in this drunken state, it'll be this moment with you in the side yard where your cheeks are perfectly flushed from the alcohol and cold nice breeze, your hands all over him, and his heart racing as he admit to you and himself for the first time that he loves you.

[bunbunlovestowrite]

-Sugar and Salt

A/N: Sylus fluff based on the poll results! :3

Cw: Slight cursing, Sylus smacks your ass twice, Reader is not MC, Fem!Reader, explicit references to sex

Waking up next to Sylus wasn't super comfortable. Nothing was wrong exactly but you always woke up on his bare chest which was, in case you haven't noticed, hard as a rock. Every morning with no fail.

Yes you love your husband and he loves you, he wouldn't wear his ring all the time if he didn't, but he was not a good pillow.

-

The sound of thunder is what woke you up that morning, that and a pain in your neck. You grumble and try to sit up but fail when Sylus' forearm kept you down. He was still asleep under you and his head was turned to the side.

You blink slowly and huff against his chest, your cheek pressed right between his pecs. It had been like this ever since your first ever night together. You were embarrassed the day after and couldn't look him in the eye while he enjoyed the feeling. You were kinda like a weighted blanket that enjoyed nibbling on people while she slept.

Even now, more than a year later, you still manage to end up here.

"Wake up." You say as you try to poke his cheek but Sylus grabbed your wrist, eyes still closed. You knew he'd do that. You got the drop on him once and he never let it down.

"Good morning to you too." His chest rumbled under your cheek as he spoke. He brought his limp arm up and rubbed his eye, groaning. "One day I won't know it's you and I might break your wrist." He slowly brought your wrist to his lips and he kissed it, his eyes shutting for a few seconds.

"Oo that'd be a great way to guilt trip you into buying me stuff." You giggle softly as you cup his cheek with your hand. Sylus huffed and bit your palm lightly, eyes glancing at you. "I already do that, sweetie."

He tilted his head at your giggle and pulled you higher on his chest so that your face was above his. "Pet names so early in the morning? My my you must really love me." You flip your hair dramatically and Sylus felt the ego radiate off you.

"No, I just married you for fun and I was bored." He rolled his eyes and lightly smacked your ass which made you jump with a yelp. He chuckled and kissed your cheek. You huff and cross your arms on his chest before laying your head on them.

"Yes well, I married you because I was broke. Well, my reasoning actually changed." You smirk again in early triumph. Your attempts to make him mad never worked. Sylus rubbed his hand up and down your back, the blanket stopped just before your ass.

"Oh yeah? What's the new reason?"

"Mediocre dick."

That is what ticked Sylus off. He scowled slightly and yanked your hair back slightly. "Mediocre? Well if that's what you call you squirting on my cock multiple times then I need to see what good dick is." He smirked at your muffled moan when he pulled your hair slightly harder. "Maybe take a few notes."

"No, no that's fine." You whisper through your teeth as you try not to moan. Sylus chuckles and releases your hair. "Cute attempt."

The thunder outside got worse and rain pounded on the roof. "Ugh, it's gonna get cold in here." You grumble while playing with Sylus' hair. He let you do as you wished while he rubbed your sides subconsciously.

"You have like 12 blankets on your side of the bed. I hope you know the light pink pillows look very out of place." Sylus motioned his thumb to your side of the bed which was cluttered with blankets and pillows.

"Not my fault you're fine with two thin pillows. Maybe that's why you're always so salty~" You poke his nose while you tease him, grinning at his scowl. Sylus furrowed his brows and rolled his eyes. "Oh shut it."

Sylus rolled on his side and took you with him, holding you against his chest. "We need to get up soon."

"nuh uh."

"You cant just say nuh uh at everything."

"yuh huh."

--

This is my third attempt at fluff in my lifetime :') sorry if it's not the best <3

[arminsumi]

Satoru spraying whipped cream into your mouth

Satoru waltzes into your apartment kitchen, wrings open the fridge and grabs the whipped cream can. He tilts his head back and presses his finger down on the nozzle, spraying cream into his mouth, filling it up to the brim.

You look at him with a toothy grimace, "Satoru, what're you like twelve?"

He dramatically swallows and licks his lips. "Yes." Satoru grins wide. "Come here. Let me do you."

"What the f—"

"Come onnn, don't you want my cream~?" he teases.

"Satoru, I don't know how I've put up with you for six years. You're on crack 24/7." you shake your head.

"Yuh... so you gonna open wide for me 'n let me cream in your mouth or what?"

You roll your eyes and smile. He's so stupid and inappropriate.

Anyways, you open your mouth for Satoru.

"Wider." he commands.

You open wider.

"Tongue out." he commands again.

You stick your tongue out and start laughing as this tall boy hovers over your face. He nests his fist in your hair and yanks your head back so you look directly up at him.

Then he sprays whipped cream in your mouth, watching intently, looking down into your mouth perversely.

"Now swallow for me, baby." he emphasizes this faux erotic tone to amuse you.

"Mmf." you nearly choke because of how much cream he sprayed into your mouth.

He intently watches you swallow, something glittering in his eyes and his brain clicks.

"Good girl~" he coos suggestively.

"Satoru you fucking perv... hm... 'tastes good." you lick your lips thoughtfully.

He grins nastily. "Yeah I bet. I got some more cream for you if you want, baby."

"Oh yeah, sure. Should I just drop to my knees on the tiles and suck you right now?" you return sarcastically.

"Really!?" his eyes light up.

"No, I'm joking, you dumb cockhead." you laugh and he rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated grunt.

"Do I have cream on my lips?" you ask.

"Yeah... a little bit, right there. Better lick it up, don't be wasteful."

He watches you lick and swipe the cream off your lips. Satoru malfunctions. You notice he holds his breath for a moment, and it's the funniest thing ever.

"W-wow."

You giggle flirtatiously and leave the kitchen.

His cock is stiff and leaky in his pants. He stands there like an idiot, not knowing what to do with himself, still clutching the can of whipped cream tight in his hand.

Then Satoru suddenly reanimates himself and frantically rushes down the hallway.

He bursts into your room,

"HEAR ME OUT."

"Okay. I'm hearing you out." you reply, scrolling through your socials and not looking at him.

He drops to his knees at your bedside.

"There's this thing called "friends with benefits" that I think we should try. — hey, don't laugh!"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[albeducks]

WHO'S THE LALALA AND THE OKOKOK IN YOUR RELATIONSHIP ★

WANDERER

he's an okokok and don't you dare disagree with me

i think he could be a lalala too but he prefers hearing you talk and rant about your day

voice kink?? question mark??

no matter what situation, hearing your voice just makes him melt

he's giggling, kicking his feet, going feral, running a marathon, screaming, creaming, crying, whimpering when you're in his sight

"and then she just-" you talked and talked, flinging your arms around exaggeratingly, making the conversation more dramatic and of course, fun to hear.

by conversation, you mean you rambling about your day while he stays silent, occasionally humming and chuckling

when your hold on his hand slightly faltered, he was quick to turn to you, hoping you didn't take his silence for annoyance.

but those thoughts were swept away as quickly as they came when he saw your eyes glowing from the dim lights, lips nonstop moving as you go on about the girl in your class.

he enjoys these moments, where you're comfortaby talking and he's comfortably listening.

ZHONGLI

SUCH a lalala, ugh

this old man may take time to warm up and chat alot, but over time he's sure to talk your ears off

if you're a lalala too, then you will definitely have a good time with him.

if you're an okokok, then you will also have a good time.

he doesn't mind leading the conversation, as long as you're accompanying him.

"osmanthus wine tastes the same as i remember, but where are those who share the memory?" he questions, even though it's not exactly directed at you.

he places the cup down, clearing his throat before continuing his opinion on, well... political things. cough archons cough

you look down at your full cup, his short talk about the wine and the people he drank with spooking you a bit.

what a lonely old man.

a talkative one, at that.

but after many years, having someone who doesn't mind your quiet self is rather nice.

maybe you should visit him more often.

AL HAITHAM

an okokok

yuh

he looks like he's reading his book and not listening to the bs ur saying but don't u dare stop talking

cuz he's listening

and he's enjoying it

cutie frfr

"then it just exploded out of nowhere-" you rambled and rambled about the explosion in your science class, while al haitham is leaning back on the chair, eyes focused on the book he's reading.

"and all of us were like-" your eyes passed al haitham for a split second, but they settled back onto him when you catched a very concentrated al haitham, eyes boring into the thick paper.

your shoulders tensed for a moment and you sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

5 seconds went by.

8.

10.

"why'd you stop talking?" his stern voice surprises you, and when you look at him, his face expression is a mix of confusion and concern.

"mm. nothing."

"and what happened after the class just erupted into flames?" he asked, placing his book down onto the table.

your eyes widened for a second, and you had to blink a few times but you slowly grinned.

with him, you shouldn't worry about not being heard.

[sherewrytes]

No letting Go, Connie x Black fem reader

Reader is Black Caribbean living in the US. So Caribbean themes are mentioned.

Song Inspo: No letting go - Wayne Wonder

The evening was alive with laughter, the dining table was crowded with platters of food—a mix of roasted turkey and baked ham alongside macaroni pie, callaloo, collard greens, the whole nine yards and then some. Y/N leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold as Connie sat at the all fours table with her uncles. They were deep in the game of all fours, cards slapping onto the table, and voices raised in competitive banter.

Connie had been holding his own pretty well, but her Uncle George was relentless. “You sure you know how to play, young man?” he teased, eyebrows raised in challenge. “Ain’t no mercy on this table, yuh know.”

Connie shot back a grin, eyes gleaming with determination. “I’m from Chicago, Uncle George—I think I can handle a little heat,” he replied, playing his card with a dramatic flourish.

“Look at this one eh, all this big talk!” another uncle laughed, shaking his head, but even Y/N could tell they were warming up to him. She hid a smile as she saw her cousin’s kid tugging at Connie’s arm, wide-eyed.

“Uncle Connie, you playing games like an old man!” one little cousin giggled, arms crossed. “When yuh done losing, gimme a piggyback!”

The kids swarmed him, nearly tipping him off balance as they clamored for a ride, the uncles’ game momentarily forgotten as they chuckled at the commotion.

“Hold on, hold on, I got y’all!” Connie laughed, setting down his cards and lifting the youngest one onto his back. He was soon parading around with a line of laughing kids, doing playful spins and ‘galloping’ around like a makeshift horse. Y/N couldn’t hold back her laughter as she watched him be surrounded, completely at ease in the midst of her big, boisterous family.

Meanwhile, her aunties had been giving Y/N sly looks all evening, observing her and Connie from across the room. Eventually, Aunt Marcia sidled up beside her, nudging her with a playful smile. “So… this is the boyfriend, eh?” she whispered, eyes twinkling. “He’s handsome, I’ll give you that.”

Y/N tried to play it cool, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, he’s alright,” she teased, though her grin betrayed her.

“Alright? Girl, please!” Auntie Pam chimed in, fanning herself a little too dramatically. “That boy is good-looking, polite, and clearly gets along with the family. He ever been to church with you? We got space in the pew for him.”

Y/N chuckled, trying to keep her tone casual. “We’ll see, Auntie Candice. One step at a time.”

Just then, as if sensing their attention, Connie looked over at her, catching her eye with that smile that had won her over the first time they met. Her aunties noticed and began nudging each other, a chorus of “ohhhs” and “mmmhmms” echoing as they shared amused glances. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, giving them a playful glare.

As Connie returned to the spades table, Auntie Marsha lowered her voice. “Don’t lose that one, baby girl. He looks like the type that’ll stick by you.”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of music shifting in the background, and then that song started playing. The opening notes filled the air, and Y/N’s heart skipped as she felt a thrill of recognition.

Connie turned his head, his face lighting up as the beat hit, the unmistakable rhythm of Wayne Wonder’s “No Letting Go” drifting through the room. His grin widened as he looked at her, and without a word, he pushed his chair back and made his way over.

He reached for her hand, his eyes warm and mischievous. “Alright now,” he murmured, pulling her toward the makeshift dance floor in the center of the living room, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what you know about this song?”

She let out a laugh, feigning innocence. “Maybe enough to know you don’t have the moves to back it up,” she teased.

“Oh, is that so?” He tugged her close, hands settling firmly on her waist. “Guess we’ll just have to see about that.”

The crowd parted a little, and Y/N’s family watched as he began to sway to the rhythm with her, guiding her hips to meet his, their bodies moving in perfect sync. His fingers slipped down her sides, holding her just tight enough to keep her anchored to him as he leaned in, lips brushing her ear as he sang the words to her.

“No letting go, no holding back… because you are my lady,” he crooned, his voice low and steady, each word wrapped in a confidence that made her heart race. The way he looked at her, like no one else in the room mattered, sent a warmth spreading through her chest.

The family watched, amusement and approval clear in their eyes as they cheered him on, encouraging every movement. “Alright now, Connie!” one of her cousins called out, fanning themselves as if the moment was too hot to handle. “Don’t get carried away, it’s Thanksgiving!”

Connie chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as he tightened his grip, leaning closer until their foreheads almost touched. “Not makin’ any promises,” he whispered with a wink.

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling the energy of the song pulse through both of them. The world faded away as he sang along with the lyrics, his hands moving to guide her hips as they moved together, lost in their own rhythm.

“Really appreciate you loving me, after all that we’ve been through,” he sang, voice soft yet full of meaning as he gazed down at her. She felt her cheeks warm, her chest tight with emotion, unable to look away. His smile softened, eyes reflecting that unspoken promise of his, something deeper than she could put into words.

The lyrics hit their final verse, and Connie pulled her in, his hand trailing up her back as he sang, “Girl, I am so glad we’ve dated… no letting go, no holding back…”

Their family’s cheers and whistles echoed around them as the song ended, but Connie held her a moment longer, his forehead resting against hers. The way he looked at her, his eyes warm and full of something she couldn’t quite name, made her feel like she was glowing from the inside out.

“Alright now, alright!” Uncle Leroy’s voice cut through, bringing them back to the moment. Connie pulled back, grinning sheepishly as her family’s laughter filled the room, but Y/N could see it—the way his smile lingered just a bit longer than usual, like he’d had just as much trouble as she did leave the dance floor.

Connie finally stepped back, but not without giving her waist a playful squeeze and a whispered, “You really didn’t think I’d show out like that?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Maybe I underestimated you.”

“Well,” he replied, pulling her close one more time, his voice low and teasing. “Guess I’ll just have to keep proving you wrong.”

[ink-and-dagger]

Hii, idk is this a weird request but. Silcos s/o fainting.

SO I got the idea 15 minutes ago when I got up too quick and just bam, lights out. My first thoughts waking up on the floor was just 1. Wtf 2. Wouldn't it be hilarious if my fav villain was looking at me confused af rn.

So like. They've just been discussing something, maybe the s/o was sitting on his couch while Silco got some paperwork done and then like

Silco: dear, could you fetch me the last weeks reports from downstairs(or sumn)

S/o. Ye. *gets up and BAM*

YUH UH. LOVE YE BYE

It isn't a weird request at all, and even if it was I love being sent weird shit. I realise that this ask is nearly 3 months old but I hope you're okay💜

I've actually had this half written for a while, but realistically I can’t see myself finding anymore time to extend or finesse it, so I’m just gonna post it as is. It's short and pretty rough, but I hope you enjoy all the same!

Also I hope you don't mind but I've used Astrid as the reader because this is just very in-character for her🥲

Silco x Reader || Silco x Astrid || Fainting || Unedited drabble

The toes of your boots tap absently together high above you - perched as they are atop the back of the crimson chaise in Silco’s office. The rest of you sprawled in a diagonal swoon across the seat cushions.

“You’re doing it again,” Silco chides beneath his breath ­- a mockingly melodic baritone from his seat at his desk, eyes not lifting from the papers in front of him.

Your boots halt their tapping, and you drop your book page down upon your chest in a huff.

“Bored,” you complain.

“Yes, you’ve already mentioned,” he responds patiently, “Which is why I suggested some quiet reading.”

You pull a face and discard the book on the coffee table, “Can’t get into it. Feel restless.”

A lengthy exhale hisses from his nose, and his gaze ticks upwards to meet yours. Long, unimpressed face upside down in your vision from your position upon the sofa.

“If you’re feeling restless then you can make yourself useful,” his attention drops back to his work, and he gestures towards his bookshelves with a flick of his pen, “Fetch me the profit ledger for this quarter. Bottom shelf.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Now.”

You roll your eyes and swing your legs off the back of the sofa in a single dramatic swoop to spring to your—

“Sweetheart?”

The voice swims and warps at the edges of your mind. Loud and distant all at once. The surface beneath your spine is hard and coarse. Your vision remains obscured by a fluttering curtain of darkness which slowly recedes to the outer edges in swirling patterns of dappled red and chem-green.

A face above yours. Eyes that don’t match beneath dark, pinched brows. Mouth drawn tight and age lines deep with apprehension. Cute though.

Your mouth quirks into a dopey smile.

“Hey there handsome,” you trill.

Concern darkens to irritation, “I’ve told you not to lie upside down on the sofa like that. You’re as bad as Jinx. At least she has the excuse of adolescence.”

“S’comfy.”

“Be that as it may, you—don’t even think about it,” Silco growls, pressing firmly on your sternum to force you back down to the rug when you attempt to shift up onto your elbows.

“I’m fine Silco. Just stood up too fast is all.”

“And do you think repeating that mistake is the best course of action? Lay still.”

“Cluck cluck mother hen,” you grumble. But your complaint goes ignored. Silco shifts from his haunches to sit properly at your side, and his arm snakes beneath your knees to lift them, gathering them in a bundle up onto his shoulder.

“Not now Silco. Not in the mood.”

He offers you a slow, unimpressed blink, “It’s to help the blood flow back to your brain. I shouldn’t think it will take all that long to fill up again.”

You flip him the middle finger and his annoyance chips away just a crack, allowing through a tiniest of smirks.

[thalassic-p4rk]

hello and welcome to our reaction to the first like 5 minutes of ring of fire while half asleep. we’re gonna keep watching it later cuz i’m in school currently and don’t wanna get like bullied or sum shit lmfao so yeah have fun 😭😭

yall are gonna hear our thoughts for this actually.

holy shit it’s fkn gorgeous already gd

aaand we get the sleepy theme? hell yeah

LMAO NOT THE SAME BITCHES FROM THE BARRIER REEF

YUH SING IT HALIBEET

OMFG IS THIS ANOTHER MUSICAL??????

i don’t think it is BUT I NEED IT TO BE

OMFG BARNACLES

MY DEAR SWEET BABY BOY OMGOMGOMG

BUBBY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HES SO *shakes him*

HES SO SILLY OMFG

AHAHA KWAZII WHAT ALARM IS THAT

K FUCKIBG LOVE YOU

getHOLY SHIT THE SONG!!! ITS THE VEHIMAL’S THEME!!!! I FKN LOVE THE VEGIMALS THEME!!!!!!!anyways get it peso fhjgdghhf

ooooooo funky instrumentation

BRO SHELLI WHAT THE FUCK ???? SGJFSFHFD

BBBBBBB

this is a rlly nice frame i’ve paused on actually, you can really tell the movie budget is working lmao

the lighting is fucking gorgeous, and i can tell they got to be more creative with the character rigging. for example, the way barnacles is standing rn in combination with the rendering makes him look very realistic with his relaxed posture and pose. very well done.

EEE HIS VOICE IS SO BOUNCY N HAPPY :DDD

AAAAASFGSFJFDHGD OMFG I LOVE HIM THEY DOD HIM SO GOOD IN THIS

HIS *STANCE* BRO ITS SO

*screams into pillow*

i think m too tired for this actually

mayb like finish this one scene? yeah ok

SO PRETTY

SO HAPPY

ALL MY BBS

LIVING THE DREAM

ah shit i can see where this is going

that’s incredibly unfortunate 💀

OOOOO YAS BITCH GET THAT OPENING CARD

SAY THAT TITLE

WERK

SGJFFJUF

EEEEEE SILLY

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HES SO HES SO HES SO

*MMMMMMMMMMMM*

pretty boy prettyyyyyy boyyyyyyy im

i live him literally so fucking much it’s unhealthy

HES SO PRETTY 🥺🥺

“good morning, i hope you had a good night sleep! ^-^”

sobbing

shellington and dashi being besties yes please

that is

so unfortunate

DFHGDHHF HES SO SUPPORTIVE HHHHHHHHH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HELP I JUST I JUST

IDEK

IM ON MY PERIOD AND I JUST LIKE FUCKIN

LAUGHED?? SQUEALED?? SCREAMED???

SO HARD AND NOW WE HAVE A ✨PROBLEM✨

BUT ANYWAYS-

THE WAY HEEEEEEEEEEEE

yk that one trend on tiktok where ppl like run/dance/flip/overall be dramatic asf to “when he sees me” from waitress? that’s the best way to describe what i am mentally doing rn.

i am unwell i don’t think i should keep watching rn i don’t have the energy to be feeling these feelings. that sucks, oh well, ill rewatch some comfy episodes that won’t give me an aneurysm yeah?

see yall tmrw nini

[grinning-cavityyy]

i keep forgetting to post on here

anyway have some juno steel that i drew in two hours in the middle of the night

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

[warwickroyals]

EDITING BOOTCAMP: WARWICKROYALS EDITING PROCESS

So, about five hundred years ago (or somewhere in that ballpark), an anon kindly asked me to share my editing process. It's been a long time coming because I've recently stopped using Pixlr (a free online photo editing program) and have moved on to 2020 Photoshop. I really recommend using Photoshop, it might be confusing or overwhelming at first, but I think it's worth it and ultimately it cuts your editing time in half once you get the hang of things. However, you can still use this tutorial if you're using GIMP, PIXLR, or whatever else. So, let's get into it (YUH)!

STEP 1 | ASPECT RATIO & SIZING

Alrighty, so what we have here is what I call a "raw screenshot." After playing around with multiple versions of ReShade and countless presets, I have come to the conclusion that I hate it. It makes my game slower, switching between filters is a pain and they just get in the way. But this is just my opinion, there are some very pretty ReShade filters out there, I just don't think they're necessary for a pretty screenshot.

When I load up my screenshots they are almost totally vanilla. I do use Luumia's NoGlo and NoBlu mods, but that's about it. I do not resize my screenshots at all, they are 1600x900 by default. However, one of the first things I do is add an aspect ratio (those two black bars you see at the top and bottom of the image) to give it a more "cinematic" feel.

I do this by adding a background layer and resizing the width from 900 to 1020. With the untouched screenshot in the centre, there should be two bars above and beneath it that are 60 px wide. I then colour the background layer black with the paint bucket tool. BOOM. Aspect ratio. Technically my edited posts are 1600x1020 when edited, but the screenshot remains 1600x900.

STEP 2 | PSD/PHOTOSHOP ACTIONS

The next step is for me to add my PSD. Think of it as your own personalized filter that changes how your screenshots will look. What your PSD does to your images is really just based on personal taste. For me, I love a rich screenshot with lots of contrast and strong blacks and more dramatic shadows. So, that's what my PSD does!

Your own PSD might look totally different for you. Maybe you what a lot of brightness, with warmer undertones, and lots of bloom. It's totally up to you! I recommend you play around with Photoshop's setting until you find an aesthetic that suits your own taste.

You can also download some Sims 4 PSDs and Photoshop actions from other creators. I really recommend those from @/intravertt here on Tumblr. They make ReShade presets, PSDs, and have a variety of other resources that are stunning.

Here's what my PSD looks like.

STEP 3 | SHADOWS AND HIGHLIGHTS, BRIGHTNESS, AND SHARPNESS

After adding my PSD I do some further edits to change how my screenshot looks. Because the shadows are so overwhelming, I add some highlights and might tweak with the exposure just to make sure nothing is too dark/under-exposed. I sometimes draw in some light shadows, but this is quite time-consuming so I don't most of the time. I also add a bit of sharpness to make certain details stick out some more. If the screenshot is taken outside, I will add some vibrance just to regain some warmth and make it look like my characters are in the sun.

Like PSD what you chose to edit, and how, it 100% up to you and what you what to achieve from your screenshots. I again recommend playing around with different settings to find something that works for you.

STEP 4 | ADDING TEXT

I recommend a text size of at least 35 pt. My texts are also bolded, outlined, and have a drop shadow, just so that it's easier to read for some people. Text tends to blend into the background and it's super annoying, so those elements help a lot. I also recommend using a sans serif font (ironic, I know, but I'm using a serif font exclusively for this arc for a reason, I swear). Also, make sure that the spacing is all good so the text isn't jumbled or crammed together. If your posts are word-y like mine (lol) you might feel the need to lower the spacing, just don't go crazy with it.

My text is centre justified. I write the name of the character who is speaking only once before their first line [LIKE THIS]. I start a new paragraph each time a new character starts speaking. To tell characters apart I assign different colours to each character, based on the order they are speaking in. The first character to speak is white, the second is yellow, the third is blue, etc. I recommend having some colour variation between characters' dialogue. Even if you have the name of who is speaking before each line, text of the same colour blends together easily.

Fun fact, I also often don't close off my paragraphs with a period or any punctuation (unless it's an exclamation point). Screw grammar, I just prefer it that way.

Here are some of the fonts I recommend, both serif and sans-serif:

Arial

Garamond

Century gothic

Book Antiqua

Josefin Sans

Perpetua Titling MT (this is the font I use in my banner)

Alte Haas Grotesk (My main sans serif font)

Can you tell I'm a author?

My loser ass legit has a list of favourite fonts

STEP 5 | BLUR/OVERLAYS/FINISHING TOUCHES

Adding blur to my posts is something I've just started doing at I don't know why. It's a great way to focus on certain objects/people and put things into perspective! It doesn't have to be a lot, but it does wonders. I just use a brush tool to go over the areas I want blurred. However, there are other faster ways to do this for sure such as cutting out and blurring the area you want out of focus separately.

If there are any clipping issues, like skin poking through clothing, I will go in with a tiny brush tool and paint over the skin with the same colour as the clothing's fabric. Sim's joints always look strange and jagged when bent (like the skin clips around a sim's bent elbow or leg, so annoying) so I'll often go in with the smudge tool with very little strength/hardness in order to remove that

Sometimes my posts have lens flares or little dust particles. These are just simple overlays I add with a layer mask + reduced opacity. You can find overlays like that easily online and maybe I'll make a post about how exactly I use them but we're DONE 'N' DUSTED for now. I hope this tutorial is useful for someone. This was fun! I'm totally down to do more in the future.

[mysteryhackin]

@stanuary has been so SO fun! I’ll miss it a bunch, so it is with a somewhat heavy heart I present Stanuary Week 4: Future. It’s pretty sappy, so apologies in advance.

The story Ford is telling at the beginning was based off this awesome piece by eregyrn-falls-art, which in turn was based off of this concept by agent-jaselin

“...So then I jump out the window and almost drop the rainbow cutlass, with ten Glam Pirate Guards shoot-” Ford stopped mid-word and froze on the boardwalk.

“And then what?” Stan asked, his mouth full of the last of his cotton candy. “C’mon, Sixer, you can’t just stop in the middle of that story!”

“Stanley, there’s a fortune teller over there.” Ford said in a faraway voice.

Stan looked at the dilapidated kiosk. “Find Your Future,” a sign said in peeling paint, the moons and stars painted on the wood weathered and barely visible. “Yeah? So? It’s basically the same thing as what Mom did…” he trailed off as he saw the far away look in his brother’s eyes. “Hey, earth to Ford!” He waved a hand in front of Ford’s face.

“Did I ever tell you about the carnival Fiddleford and I visited right before he quit?” Ford asked softly. “They had a fortune teller… and she knew what my future was. She gave me a ring…”

“Heh, what, you engaged or something?” Stan teased. “I don’t think she waited for thirty years, Sixer,”

“No, Stanley, not like that,” Ford said in a slightly annoyed voice, snapping out of his fog. “She said I was on a bad path and the ring would change color to tell me when it was too late to go back.”

“Yuh-huh,” Stan said deadpan, clearly unimpressed.

“Stanley, she was right,” Ford said, and something in his voice chased all the sarcasm out of Stan. “The ring changed, I realized Bill was using the portal to come take over our dimension, you and I fought…” he shook his head, then a grin suddenly appeared on his face. “Do you know what this means?”

“Uh… not really, no.” Stan said, so confused by his brother’s sudden change of mood he failed to come up with a witty remark.

“Fortune tellers are anomalies that must be studied!” Ford said excitedly, and began steering Stan in the direction of the kiosk.

“Oh come on,” Stan complained. “These guys are just a bunch of second rate hucksters- believe me, I know! You know Mom was a fake psychic, I told fortunes for a couple of years at the Shack... a ten year old brat in Gravity Falls even did it! Set up a tent and-“ he stopped as they went through the beaded curtains into the kiosk. “Everything.” he finished softly.

The entire little room glimmered, sequins and beads reflected the soft light from candles and dozens of star shaped lamps hanging from the ceiling. Stan almost felt as if he were floating in a galaxy, the real world far behind him. “Ford,” he started quietly.

“Yes Stan?” Ford asked softly, looking around in awe.

“Welcome,” a raspy voice sounded from a darkened corner. The brothers turned to face a haggard looking woman in shimmering fabric walk through yet another beaded curtain. “Please sit down first, Stan.”

Ford looked at Stan, his eyebrow raised. Stan snorted; whatever enchantment the room had over him broken due to his recognition of the trick. It was easy: you just hung out in the shadows until the suckers started talking, gleaning as much information as you could before dramatically revealing yourself and putting them off balance with something you overheard.

The woman sat down at a table with a crystal ball in the center, and beckoned Stan over.

“Sorry, sister,” Stan folded his arms and glared. “I ain’t here for your tricks. This was all his idea,” he cocked his head in Ford’s direction.

Ford gave his brother a smile. “Stanley, we’re merely investigating. This is just an experiment.” He took his journal out and readied his pen, looking expectantly at Stan.

Stan grumbled and sat down across from the fortune teller. “Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, holding out his palm.

The woman gave him an appraising look. “Money first,” she said. “Twenty dollars.”

“Twenty-” Stan turned to Ford. “Sixer, come on!”

“The sooner you get your fortune told, the sooner we can leave.” Ford said mildly.

Stan leaned forward to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, and decided to use one of his state of the art counterfeit bills instead of the real thing.

Ford may have met a real fortune teller, but Stan was pretty sure this person wasn’t it.

But as he threw his fake twenty dollar bill on the table, the candles suddenly went out and the crystal ball started to glow. But even worse, the woman began speaking in a voice quite different than her own.

All good things come to an end.

What happened once will happen again

The worst for you hasn’t happened yet

Can one forgive if one cannot forget?

Stan’s jaw dropped, but he rapidly recovered as the lights somehow came back on. “Ugh,” he shuddered, and quickly stood up. “Welp, I think we’re done here, right Sixer?” He looked over at Ford so they could share a good laugh, but the blood had drained from Ford’s face, and he was standing there with his mouth open.

That gave Stan the heebie jeebies; Ford was usually unflappable. They had seen some pretty freaky stuff the past year while sailing, and Ford was always more… eager to observe than scared at anything they saw.

But that wasn’t the case now.

“OK, let’s go,” Stan said with false joviality, not looking back at the fortune teller and steering his brother out just as he had been steered in.

“Hey Ford, we’re outta there now,” he said as they stepped into the sunlight. “Told ya she was just a fraud. I bet she uses that weird poem on everyone who comes in there.”

Ford looked at Stan, then smiled. “Yes, you’re probably right.” He took a deep breath. “I think it’s probably dinner time- unless you spoiled your appetite with that cotton candy.”

Stan laughed. “Are ya kidding me? Never. Let’s go.”

But dinner was quiet, each brother mulling over the rhyme from the fortune teller. Was it true?

It happened once… Were they really going to lose each other again?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next week they were at each other’s throats.

“How hard is it to tie a knot, Poindexter?” Stan asked exasperatedly, sarcastically calling out his brothers supposed genius. “We’ve only been doing this for a year!”

“I would have had more time to do it properly if we weren’t being chased by a drunken angry mob!” Ford snapped back.

“Five guys who can’t tell the difference between talent and cheating isn’t a mob!” Stan scoffed. “‘Sides, it’s not like we haven’t had to make a quick getaway before!”

“Exactly!” Ford said. “This isn’t the first time we’ve been chased by angry townsfolk, and at the rate you’re going it’s unlikely to be our last!”

“At the rate I’m going?” Stan asked angrily. “Geez, so I guess that darts fiasco from last month was my fault?! And what about that,” he moved his fingers up to make sarcastic air quotes “‘scientific discussion’ that ended up with me getting a black eye when I was tryin’ t’get you outta there? Maybe I’ll just leave you by yourself next time and see how you do!”

Ford stopped, looking at Stan as if he’d been slapped. “She was right,” he said quietly, leaning heavily on the rail. “‘All good things must come to an end, what happened once will happen again.’” He looked at his brother miserably. “Are you really leaving?”

Stan’s jaw dropped. “Do… do you want me to?” He asked softly, the shock covering the pain that would have otherwise been in his voice.

“No!” Ford said, the word drenched with hurt.

“Good.” Stan said, trying to hide his relief. “‘Cause I ain’t leavin’ you. I spent 30 years teaching myself math to get you back. Math, Sixer. You think I’m going to waste all that just because we argue sometimes?” He shook his head and crossed his arms. “If we’re gonna go our separate ways, you’ll have to go first.”

“Well that’s ridiculous,” Ford scoffed. “Why would I leave my best friend and partner in crime? I’ve never had so much fun in my life, and I stayed in Dimension 55*DL for a year.”

“You never told me about that,” Stan said, the start of a grin on his face.

“I don’t tell you everything,” Ford said with false haughtiness. He sighed. “So. If neither of us is going to leave…”

“It just means we’re stuck together!” Stan said joyfully. “Look, that old fortune teller was a fake. Seriously. Those candles were probably battery operated or something, and maybe she’s a really good voice actress or whatever. Even if she was real, so what? Point is, we know we’re not gonna split up just because neither of us is gonna leave. Some crusty old crone isn’t gonna change that.”

Ford smiled at his brother. “You’re right.”

“‘Course I am.” Stan said, then frowned. “What were we arguing about?”

Ford shrugged. “Who cares? Why dwell in the past when we have the entire future ahead of us?”

Stan let out a belly laugh. “So it must’ve been about something you did, if you want us to forget!”

“You wish,” Ford answered with a grin, and they looked off into the horizon. Their future.

Together.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Epilogue: The knot that Ford didn’t tie correctly ended up stranding them in the middle of a colony of merkitties for two days, but they were so cute neither of them minded.

[regularno]

One Day Prior

“Look at the world, Mordecai.”

“I am, dude.”

“Mordecai! Mordecai wake up!” Rigby shouted as he arose from his trampoline bed, “Today’s the day!”

“What,” Mordecai mumbled before his eyes widened, “wait, you’re not talking about-”

“Uh huh. Today’s the day. It’s-”

“The premiere of Samurai-bot 3000 The Movie! Hi-yah!” The stoners yelled in unison.

They scrambled around the room, hurriedly getting ready for their epic day. Just as they were about to exit their messy, cluttered room, they both remembered the most crucial part of their morning routine.

“Dude, how could we forget bro and bake?” Mordecai said, reaching for their brown, greasy bong. 

“Bro and bake! Aw yea-yuh!” Rigby scrambled towards the bong, “light it up, babe-ey.”

The boys broke into one of their signature song-raps:

“Bro and Bake!

Bro and Bake!

We simply cannot wake until we bro and bake!”

Rigby snatched the bong just as Mordecai lit it, creating the biggest, sickest bong cloud known to man. 

“Agh!” Right on schedule, Rigby burst into a coughing fit, falling back onto his trampoline and laughing.

“Dude, that was so lame. Watch this.” Mordecai sucked into the bong, creating an even sicker, nastier cloud of smoke. 

“Hm, hm hm hm. Hm hm. Hm.” Mordecai sneered, not even flinching as massive amounts of THC entered his body. 

“Alright alright. You win.” Rigby conceded, lying on his back.

Mordecai made his way back into his own bed. 

They sat in a comfortable silence, both of them looking up at their spitball-covered ceiling. 

“Dude, this movie is about to be si-”

The sound of Rigby’s ringtone, Hollaback Girl, interrupted Mordecai. Rigby groaned and flipped onto his stomach dramatically.

“Hello.” He snapped. 

A small, indiscernible voice responded.

“Oh, hi Margaret. Yeah, he lost his phone again… Okay I lost it… No, Mordecai can’t go to the shop today, we’re going to see Sa- hey!”

Mordecai snatched the flip-phone out of Rigby’s hands.

“Hi Margaret! I mean, hey, Margaret. What’s up?” Mordecai tried (and failed) to sound cool, “I can meet you at the coffee shop. Oh, Rigby? He’ll be fine. We didn’t have much for plans anyway. 3 o’clock? Sure! I can meet at 3 o’clock! Okay, see you then. Bye.” 

Mordecai hung up and raced around the room, searching for hair gel and deodorant. 

“3 o’clock? Mordecai, you aren’t going to be able to hang out with Margaret at 3 o’clock, that’s when we’re going to see Samurai-Bot 3000 The Movie, hi-yah!” Rigby said, not realizing what was going on. 

“Rigby. Margaret just asked me out on a date.”

“She did not ask you out on a date, dude. She asked if you wanted to hang out at the coffee shop, something we do together every day.”

“No, dude. You’re just too young to understand. She’s totally into me.”

But Rigby did understand. He understood quite well what it meant to be in love. He also knew what it was like to not be loved back. 

“Mordecai! You can’t go!” Rigby yelled, following him around the room and attempting to swat things out of his hands, “Call her back and tell her you can’t go!”

Mordecai dodges Rigby’s attempts at stalling him with ease, “nah, dude. This is too important.”

“What could be more important than me! Than us!” He followed Mordecai down the stairs, throwing objects in his direction in an attempt to slow him down.

“Don’t say it like that dude, You’re making it weird.”

“Come on! We were supposed to watch Samurai-Bot-3000-The-Movie-hiyah,” Rigby said, as if the move title was all one word.

“Bring Muscleman with you, or Eileen.”

“We’re supposed to watch it together!” He followed him down the stairs.

“We can just go see it tomorrow.”

“But today was supposed to be the day!” He followed him through the living room, “today was supposed to be our day.” 

“Ugh! Dude, who cares if we watch it today or tomorrow? We’re still gonna watch it together either way!”

“I do.” Rigby said quietly, feeling rejected. 

“This is my only chance to go on a date with Margaret. Don’t ruin this for me.” 

Rigby followed him to the front door. “Mordecai, if you leave, then… Then!”

Mordecai, who was already walking away from the house, looked back, “Then what?”

“Then… Then don’t bother coming home.” 

“C’mon, dude, you’re being so dramatic.”

“I mean it.” Rigby said before slamming the door shut.

Mordecai did go on his date with Margaret, while Rigby went to see the movie by himself. But this date was not what Mordecai was expecting in the slightest. It wasn’t even a date at all. So Mordecai sat there, silent and dreadful, as Margaret droned on and on about how her now-ex boyfriend was such a douchebag, which Mordecai already knew, and how she was so much better off without him, which he also knew. 

Then, a thought struck him through the heart with the force of a thousand knives. He pictured Rigby, walking into that movie theater alone. His little buddy, with no one by his side. Or worse, Muscleman by his side, exclaiming snide remarks about his own mother. Oh, Rigby would simply die of embarrassment if he were only that self-aware. He began to realize how big of a mistake he had made. 

He quickly stood up from the booth he and Margaret were sitting in, startling both her and the other patrons of the restaurant. 

“Mordecai, what are you doing?” Margaret asked.

“I’m sorry Margaret, but I’ve gotta go. I made a huge mistake coming here tonight.”

“Is that what I am to you, Mordecai? A mistake?”

“No no no, Margaret, that’s not what I meant!” Mordecai started, but was interrupted by Margaret’s intense voice. 

“Forget it, Mordecai. Go hang out with your friend. He clearly means more to you than I do. Doesn’t he?”

Mordecai stood there for a moment, staring at Margaret, before he quickly turned and ran out the door. 

Rigby was just about to enter the movie theater when Mordecai ran up to him, out of breath. 

“Rigby!... Wait… I need… To talk to you…” He leaned over and put his hands on his knees. 

“I told you, Mordecai. Don’t come home. It’s over.”

“This isn’t… Our home… It’s… The movie theater.” Mordecai looked up at him, smirking.

Rigby couldn’t resist that smile. He practically forgave him in an instant. But he wouldn’t show it. Not for a few minutes, at least. 

“Whatever, dude.” Rigby replied and started to walk away. 

“Rigby, stop! I’m sorry man, we can go watch Samurai Bot 3000 now! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t realize how lame I was being!”

Rigby stopped but didn’t turn around, “it’s not about the stupid movie!”

Mordecai frowned in confusion, “What?”

“It’s not about the movie, Mordecai,” Rigby whispered with a sigh and turned around.

“Then what’s it about? Dude, I’m confused.”

“I can’t believe you would choose Margaret, some girl you just met, over me, your best friend from diapers.”

“Rigby, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would bother you so much! I just really like Margaret.”

“Well I really like you!” Rigby yelled, immediately realizing that he probably shouldn’t have said that.

”Don’t make it weird, dude.” It was Mordecai’s turn to blush. He could no longer pretend to ignore the obvious advances that Rigby had been throwing his way over the past few weeks.

“I have to, dude. I’m sick of playing these games,” Rigby crossed his arms, “Every day I have to watch you be with her, when you and I both know that you should be with me. You’re my favorite person in the world, Mordecai.”

“You’re my favorite person too! But I won’t ruin what we have. What if we mess it up?”

“We wouldn’t mess it up!”

“You don’t know that, dude! You know what happens if we do mess it up? We won’t even be able to be friends! And then we’ll both be loners again!

“Not loner stoners.” Rigby whispered sadly. 

“That’s exactly what we’d be. Loner stoners.” Mordecai wraps his arm around his shoulders and walks towards an empty field. The sun was going down in just the right way, making Rigby’s brown eyes shine like the most delectable honey. 

Look, Rigby.” Mordecai shakes the thought out of his mind as he gestured to the area around them, “you have the whole universe, Rigby. You can either fill it with friends and family and crushes, or you can fill it with a string of broken hearts and break-ups. Which one sounds more appealing?”

Rigby looks out at the wide, empty field. “You’re right, dude.” He said, kicking a rock sullenly. “I’ve spent so much of my time and energy on what we could be, I never thought it could ruin what we have now.” He looked at Mordecai, “I like what we have now, Mordecai. I don’t think we should change it.”

Mordecai nodded and smiled, but his eyes were filled with melancholy. Had he just revealed his true feelings, he wouldn’t have to keep living with this terrible feeling of longing. Of wonder.

“Plus, I really do have the whole universe to choose from. There’s Eileen, or that girl from the snack bar that is totally crushing on me.”

“She so does not, dude.” Mordecai chuckled. 

“Does too!” Rigby shoved him playfully.

The sun had set by then, exposing the bright stars and even brighter galaxies that lie millions upon millions of miles away. There was something symbolic about it, the sun finally setting on the relationship that was simply never meant to be. Mordecai stood behind Rigby, his hand on his shoulder as his small friend’s eyes gaped at the night sky.

“Look at the world, Mordecai.”

“I am, dude.” He responded, gazing down at his best friend.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

With tears in his eyes and a small, sad smile on his face, Mordecai nodded, “It sure is, dude. It sure is.”

[the-headbop-wraith]

3_45 _ The Past is Gone

  Nothing of Kingsman Mechanic’s appeared out of place. A few lights poured clarity across the work floor, but the other rooms and the storage chamber remained inactive. On the main floor, the white and black hound scurried this and that way, struggling to untangle the erratic path.

 Arthur raised his legs as Mystery padded by. The dog took a sharp left and continued, first checking the flatbed the intruder skipped over, and then roving toward vehicles parked in stations. Mystery came upon a large and swollen duffle bag, laying beside a supply cart. He pawed at the clunky thing, nipping at the zipper on the side.

 Lewis prodded at the sack, shifting it one way then the other cautiously. It was hard and chunky, likely some sort of equipment. The question though, did he bring this in or was he taking it?

 A bark form Mystery assured that there was nothing hazardous. Lewis tugged the zipper and tilted his skull.

 “You should’ve barbequed the guy,” Vivi grumbled. She moved in beside Lewis and peered over his shoulder. “Skinned and then barbequed.”

 “A bit excessive.” Lewis angled his skull up and peered across the room, to Arthur. “Turned him inside out, and then barbequed.”

 “Now you’re talking.” She leaned down and touched his hand. “It’ll be okay. Uncle cares a lot about you, but he needs some time to adjust.”

 Lewis rasped. “He needs time to adjust.” He didn’t bother to zip up the bag, and stood. “First thing he does is put a hole right through me. Who does that?”

 “A protective parent?” Vivi posed. She leaned around Lewis’ side, staring up at him. “Arthur’ll be fine, he’s sore but it’s all aches. He told me nothing in his shoulder was torn or cracked, which is a marvel.” She pushed him by the lower back, coaxing the tall spirit on his way.

 Two hours following the intruder’s retreat, Uncle Lance was on his second pot of coffee. In that time, Vivi did her best to reconstruct the events of what transpired all that time in the past, wherein an ‘accident’ occurred. There remained crevices that she could not put description into, due to Lance’s inexperience to the actuals of the Mystery Skulls paranormal investigation. And also, that Lewis’ did not merely loose his footing on some slippery rocks. It wasn’t a good time to bring in the influencing force, or place the ideal that it’s compulsion was strong, if not impossible to fight away. Despite the skewed memory, Vivi was the only candidate to elaborate the details. Lewis was adamant about that.

 For the most part, Lance seemed to take it all in as well as anticipated. He did need some time alone to think, and really grapple with what he was seeing. Beyond the revelation that Lewis wasn’t gone – not entirely there, either – the shock that supernatural creatures existed out there, entities that occurred not far from his home base.

 As for the intruder in the mask, the trail led outside and down the road. Mystery lost it on the sidewalk, prompting Vivi’s speculation that he got into a vehicle and departed. She returned to Kingsman and checked on Arthur, while Lewis accompanied Mystery in the next search. The motivation and intent of the assault. The bag offered some insight.

 “Good news, we figured out what the guy was here for,” Vivi proclaimed, in a strong dramatic whisper.

 “And there. I didn’t drop you off someplace. High.” Lewis set the bag down at Arthur’s feet. A look of ‘what the fu—' crossed Vivi’s face when she directed her eyes to Lewis. “You… don’t seem as appreciative as you should be.”

 “Lew!”

 Arthur fixed the soggy bag of water against his neck. “Sorry. Not surprised, is all. This is the furthest anyone’s got with getting away. At least, that I know of.”

 Vivi was aghast. “This has happened before?”

 “Not like this.” He flecked his hand upward. “If someone breaks in, they jack shit that’s easy to access. Grab’n go. We store special components upstairs, things that get legs real easy. Whatever’s pricey and small, easy to miss, gets locked up. Only one other guys has the keys, aside from Uncle and me.” He sighed. “Not that this would do anyone any good.” With his hand, he rifled through the duffle. Some folders were crammed in, among the shell and arm shapes.

 Lewis shifted and looked away, his thumb stroked the underside of his cheek bone. “Then, could it have been someone working here? One of the grease monkeys?”

 Mystery yapped and gave his head a shake, ears flopping.

 “Not… likely,” Arthur drawled out. “These models are shells, nothing useful has been incorporated into them. It’s possible the guy grabbed and jammed, if he was in a hurry. But you didn’t run into him upstairs, not in that tiny corridor. So, he was already on his way out.”

 The four hung quiet a moment, debating on the assessment. Lewis broke the silence, “So, what does that mean?”

 Arthur shrugged. “I’ll go upstairs and check, make sure nothing else is missing. You lost the trail?”

 Mystery borked and spun in circles. Got in a car and zoomed.

 “And what sort of car?”

 Mystery tapped his front paws, raising one and flattening his ears down. “Mhh….”

 Lewis and Vivi exchanged a look. Vivi said, “Hangs around a car garage?”

 “Can’t distinguish between the different models?” Lewis finished.

 Mystery snorted and left them, ears twisted back and muzzled crinkled. All this oil smells the same.

 Lewis gestured to Vivi. “There’s not a lot to work with.”

 “No.” She turned to Arthur. “Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down.” Vivi leaned down and took Arthur’s upper arm. Lewis took the bag up and moved aside, while Vivi hefted Arthur off the box. “We can ask Uncle Lance about the cameras later.”

 “I’m fine,” Arthur insisted, though he let Vivi aid him in getting upright. Lewis stood by, hand open as if he wanted to assist but wouldn’t move towards Arthur. “Think I was mostly stunned. Good thing these boxes were empty. Anyway, the cameras wouldn’t be much help. Aside from proving the guy was a jerk.”

 “Always the optimist,” Lewis crackled. “I doubt they’ll come back around.”

 “You sound real proud of yourself,” Vivi quipped, through a grin.

 “I really wish you’d seen them. It was like they saw a ghost.” Lewis’ skull swiveled on his collar, and he wound his shoulders around to face the stout figure approaching them.

 Lance gave his face a firm rub, before searching the group over. “Don’t mean tu break up teh powwow. Your gunna be okay, Art?”

 Arthur grimaced and pulled on the edge of his vest. “I’ve been worse.”

 A steely expression crossed Lance’s face, but he didn’t respond on that. “Yuh. Sure. Um, I want to head on over to my place, sleep this off. Might take the rest of the day off.” He pointed to Arthur. “And you’re not comin’ in either.”

 “I already had the day off….”

 “The whole week, then.”

 “Uncle,” he groaned, stretching awkwardly around Vivi to facepalm.

 “No. M’words final. You. Ghost Pepper.”

 Lewis eye sockets surged with those fuchsia flames. “It’s Lewis, Uncle Lance. Lew-Is.”

 Lance swept his arm. “C’mere. I want a word with you.”

 A low rattle burned through Lewis. “Juro si este va a ser un tema recurrente….”

 Lance led the way through the work floor, and into the dim corridor entrance. The shorter man stood with his arms crossed, glaring at Lewis and trying to look as imposing as he could muster without standing on his toes. Lewis met the stance, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

 “Vivi talked with you.”

 “She talked with me,” Lance acknowledged, with a nod. “N’it was a good conversation. A lot tu take in. There’s a lot tu… tangle mah thoughts ‘round.” He glanced a little beyond Lewis’ shoulder. “I try not tu pry into your kids… Arthur and Viv-vi’s going on’s. I trusted… ‘em, despite whut happened to m’boy. Tu yu.”

 Lewis creaked back and looked away.

 Lance went on, “I thought stayin’ busy an’ doin’ their thing was right. But now, I dunno if that was what bein’ best for ‘em. She told me what ya’ll been preoccupied with, but there bein’ more she ain’t willing tu give over. All this time, I thought yu were out on the road, unmasking kooky loonies playin’ pretend. Fakes doin’ shenanigans for publicity, tryin’ to shirk a profit.”

 For a minute the two stood, quiet and contemplative on the crossroads. It was not total silence, a steady thrum persisted from Lewis. Like a heartbeat, Lance was not eager to address.

 “And what’s this about Arthur comin’ home, with his arm all beat tu heck?” Lance snarled. “First, he loses it. Now it’s cursed, and he can’t – he can’t furbish a replacement to make use. Keep it functional for more than… a couple months! Yu’re adults, and ya’ll got yur business tu work through, but do yu lot got yur priorities squared?”

 Lewis frowned. “You’d have to take that up with the boss lady.”

 Lance pressed his hands to his face and took a deep breath. “Yu and I are talkin’ it now.” He pried his hands from his face and held his palms together, against his nose.

 For the first time, Lewis realized Lance’s hands were quaking. It was subtle, maybe he didn’t realize it. The stillness hung between them, while Lance struggled to get his bearings.

 “Somethin’ happened between you an’ Art, I’ve seen enough tu conclude that.” Lance sighed. “Yu won’t e-Lab-or-ate on it, an’ that’s all right. It’s your business. But yu should know I am downright upset I wasn’t told about this.”

 Lewis tilted his skull. “About… what?”

 “About what?” he exploded. “About… everything! All of this! I deserved tu know something, any small scrap that wasn’t a lie! A bit of the truth, that’s all I ask. I can’t be there for Arthur,if he’s hidin’ away!” Lance threw his arms up gesturing nothing in particular, his breath came labored and his brow beaded with droplets. “About yu! I should’ve in the least, been told yu’d… resurfaced, or sumthin’! Whatever y’all call it. Do your parents kn—?”

 “NO!” For the first time Lewis’ features snapped from gnawing fury, to wide eyed horror. “No-no! They can’t! And you can’t tell them!”

 Perplexed and alarmed, Lance eased back. “Okay. I got it.” The light of the corridor fluttered, the embers in Lewis’ skull flashed.

 “They can’t know about me, about what I—  About what happened. Please, Uncle Lance,” Lewis rasped, the remnants of his speech drew on a rustling surge. The spirit clasped his hands together. “There’s only one thing I will ever-ever ask of you, and it’s that you never speak about what you saw here with anyone, save for Vii and Artie. Please! Don’t do that! I’m begging!”

 There was something else that Lewis wasn’t saying, he could scarcely make it out in those gleaming eyes. But the utter desperation and remorse reverberating in that ‘voice’, he couldn’t bear to ask and witness the rush of agony. Lance didn’t understand, but the topic pained Lewis in some undefined way. Or, it could’ve been a trick of the light.

Lance took another step back, hitting the wall behind him. “I hear ya, they won’t… Yu have mah word.” The skull retained its defensive countenance, and he struggled to overlay what a living Lewis might’ve looked like right now.

 “They uh… they’re likely waiting on yu. Art and Vii,,” Lance took a work rag from his belt and swept it across his face.. “Lewis, listen. I want to— You’ve always been a good kid.” How did he say this? “I worry abou’ ‘em, and I’m worrin’ more now thinking about… all this. You can’t, I mean – I know I can’t— I don’t want what happen….” There wasn’t a good way to deliver the request, so he gave up in a long-winded sigh.

 “I’m headed off now.” Lance moved down the corridor, but only got three steps before he about-faced and marched back. “I did’t park out front.” He inched by Lewis and made it another five steps, then swung back. “It was good seein’ yu again. Yu gunna be around an’—” Before he finished, a flash of flames engulfed the figure and in the curling ash remained nothing but a faint outline. In short time, as Lance’s eyes readjusted, the murky impression faded.

 “I’ll take that as a no….”

  __

  In the time that Lance took Lewis aside for a short exchange, Arthur had relocated upstairs to his work room where he currently perused through his personal gear and spare parts. When Vivi made certain Arthur would take it easy and not stress, she left to pick up some food for the evening. Given everything that went down, neither was inspired to head back to her apartment and try getting back on track. Work, even casual work stuff, could wait.

 “None of the work gear got mucked with,” Arthur mentioned offhand, when Lewis materialized in a plume of heat in the doorway. He lay reclined on the sofa, his head resting on Mystery’s back while his legs sat propped by the arm rest. “Dunno how long the guy was working, since closing. Arms are easy to build, for the most part. But that paranormal stuff is kinda pricey.”

 He leaned his head up to see Lewis better, when the spirit glided over behind the couch. The skull and death suit, any number of reasons why. Could’ve forgotten in all the chaos, or didn’t care. “How you holdin’ up?”

 “Fantastic,” Lewis wheezed. “I have one fear now.”

 That didn’t sound good. Arthur pondered if he should tease the subject further, but given the vibrant tension smoldering around Lewis he decided any other day might work better. He adjusted the new ice bag on his forehead and shut his eyes.

 “Why didn’t you just, y’know, disappear? You’re good at that.” He opened his eyes and winced. Lewis was leaning on the couch, glaring down at him.

 “Wasn’t really keen on leaving you in the care of your Uncle, regardless of good intentions.” Lewis lifted one arm from the couch and touched the locket thudding on his chest. “Did not expect him to go full Ash Williams with handling threats. Where’s Vivi?”

 Mystery woofed.

 “You should get some rest while you can,” Lewis offered. “It’d be safe now.”

 Something in Lewis’ tone made Arthur leery. “You gunna keep an eye on me?”

 “I won’t go anywhere without telling you.”

 Mystery twisted his body around enough to nuzzle Arthur’s hair.

 “I have a sneaky suspicion I should keep an eye on you.” The glare subsided, but Lewis still seemed peeved. Arthur edged a little away from the spirit, pulling his body more over onto the coffee table. “You’re not planning on going anywhere. Are you?”

 “Absolutely not.”

 “Damn it Lewis, I can’t tell if you think you’re being subtle or an ass. Knock it off.” Lewis expression shifted no miniscule way, aside from the faint waver of his burning eyes. Was it possible they looked much hotter than usual? “I’ll update security, put some better locks on the doors – not that it ever stopped thugs from breaking in before.” That’s why Lance had the shotgun. “We can’t go any further. We shouldn’t. And I’m ‘bout done with this.”

 “How ‘bout I find this guy anyway?” Lewis stood away from the couch. “A little more inspiration, to assure they won’t even dream of setting foot here, ever again.”

 Arthur got off the couch and went over to the boxes of gear, digging through the packing. “What is this fixation you have with revenge? What you’ll wind up doing is, draw too much attention to us. In our hometown no less. Get a grip!”

 “My frien—” Lewis let his tone sputter out not too gracefully, and backtracked on the sentence. “You get creamed, I got shot up – I think I’m entitled to invoke a lil retribution.”

 Arthur pulled out some equipment and set it carefully aside. Damn, it was tedious doing anything one handed. “You scared him off. That was enough!”

 Mystery was glancing back and forth between the two. Where the hell was Vivi?

 “It’s not enough,” Lewis hissed. “We’re in a fine fix on account of that-that… delincuente. And I will make certain he never comes back! What are you looking for?”

 Arthur dumped one of the energy readers. “Where the heck is Vivi?”

 Lewis crossed his arms. “She’d tots be on board with this scheme, and you know it.” Arthur deflated over the box.

 “Shit, you’re right.” Lewis leaned over him.

 “Tell me what you’re looking for, Arthur.”

 Arthur cowered under the shadow. “I’ll tell you one thing, it has nothing to do with you.” Lewis’ eyes burned brighter.

 “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

 Arthur snapped his fingers. “Shoot! Damn. Can’t get one by you, can I?”

 Mystery rolled his eyes and face palmed. He bled, for this?

 It was not long later that Vivi was standing in the doorway with groceries, beholding as Lewis and Arthur went at each other. She had NO IDEA what was going on, it was the midpoint of some consecutive theme, bouncing around the argument that Arthur was being too passive. For Arthur’s credit, he looked like he was trying to haul Lewis up by the lapels of his death suit. It was quite the sight to walk in on. The scarce traces of embers bristled around the room, and Mystery was trying to keep them from alighting on anything flammable. Anything flammable seemed to be everything.

 “—you let that thing into my home. Practically invited it!” Lewis screeched.

 “What home?” Arthur snarled. “The mansion?”

 “I don’t recall owning costal real estate!”

 Vivi took a breath and raised her voice. “Hey, you guys gunna be okay?”

 Lewis and Arthur simultaneous spat, “NO!”

 She turned to Galahad, bundled in her scarf. “At least they agree on something.”

 “You don’t own anything!” Arthur rebuked. “You just haunt some place and—” Lewis pointed down at Arthur.

 “Don’t you dare go there, Kingsman.”

 In a mad dash, Vivi left Galahad to Mystery and shoved herself between the two, breaking Arthur’s grip on Lewis. “Enough! The both of you can just take two big boy steps away.” Lewis reversed a step due to her full body shoving, but he held his glower on Arthur. “All right, listen! We all had an arguably fucked up evening, but we are not doing this tonight! Both of you! That’ll be enough!” She gave Lewis a harder shove, to dislodge him fully.

 “You never had a temper like this!” Arthur snapped back, while Mystery tugged him away by the back of his vest. “The littlest things piss you off. How am I supposed to work around you when you got all these… these barriers, everywhere!” He stamped his foot.

 “I’ve been somewhat overheated since my ultimately demise,” Lewis grated, “but I have been trying very-very hard to be very-very-VERRRY patient. All the same, you make that so difficult.”

 At least he wasn’t resisting her asserted relocation. “And we are so proud of you,” Vivi snapped. “You’ve been working so hard, hasn’t he Arthur?” She glanced back

 Arthur blinked. “Are YOU kidding me!”

 “Oh my lor—  Hasn’t! He! ARR! THUR!”

 Arthur slapped his face. “FINE! The bare minimal, what’s the bare minimal? You didn’t roast Uncle, like you almost roasted me and Vii! I’m so ecstatic! Ya get a Gold Star!”

 Lewis shifted against her palms, but seemed to calm down and eased out of leaning. The embers still lingering around the room snuffed out, leaving only the kindling scent. “Yeaah,” Lewis hummed.

 There was no way to oppose that. He wouldn’t admit Arthur was right, but he did have a point. It was a lot to deal with, and not a lot of time allocated to process. Though, it wasn’t just getting shot a dozen times and dealing with Uncle Lance all in the same hour; then, the expectation of carrying on, like nothing happened – all of it scorched him. He was a little more than irritated, and he was… afraid. Afraid, when he didn’t reach Arthur in time, and frustrated he didn’t have the foresight to restrain the intruder; more than that, fretful and unsatisfied by what was left. None of this he could convey practically, yet he… he couldn’t hide it either. There was a lot he couldn’t really conceal, ignore, or repress. He could do better, but it was... hard. They didn’t know how hard this was.

 The other three went quiet, as well. Arthur hadn’t dropped his hyper-lazer scowl, as if expecting some form of reckless objection – though Lewis was fresh out of those. One of Vivi’s arms remained braced across his chest, though her full-bodied leaning had regressed by multitudes. In the beats preluding his lockets dull thrum, the tension began to ebb.

 At last, Lewis broke the silence, “That… would’ve been excessive, yes? He meant well, after all.” The fluorescent light flickered, like the flutter of a heartbeat. “Though not gonna lie,” he hissed, “I was on the fence about socking him.”

 Vivi smacked her head against his chest and gave a muffled scream. You could have not said anything!

 “It was getting a strong debate. I mean, he shot me like four times.”

 “It was fifteen— Wait, I missed that.” Mystery released Arthur’s shirt, and he nearly toppled forward. “Okay. I’m…. I wanna understand, Lew. You and me, and Vivi, we have to talk about this. I don’t want you to do this.”

 Vivi brought her gaze up to Lewis. “What? Wait… what is he talking about?” It dawned on her the next second, who could possibly be deserving of a nasty visit. “Artie,” she groaned, “C’mon….”

 “Not helping,” he growled.

 “Fine,” Lewis grated, ember eyes flashing. “Have it your way.”

 Arthur glared, unconvinced. “Lew.”

 “Give me the benefit of the doubt,” Lewis beseeched. Without jeopardizing his gaze, he brought a hand up and touched the locket. “I didn’t really believe further involvement on my part was necessary. I’m just… I need some time to think. To… get a grip.”

 “Like literally,” Arthur huffed. He cleared his throat and tottered back, when Vivi delivered a scathing glare of her own. “Fine! Done. I’ll sleep better knowing I didn’t have a hand in someone else’s ultimately demise.” He gave Lewis a sharp look, before spinning away.

 Lewis stood to the side, gazing off as if he didn’t know what to do now or where to relocate. Vivi pointed a finger, directly into his bleached skull face – warning. His glower did deepen, as she left him to collect the bags left at the threshold.

 “Vivi,” his voice was distorted, echoey. “I’m heading back down to look around. When you get the chance, would you come meet me?”

 A note of shock crossed Arthur’s features, but upon the direct request the alarm faded. Vivi handed over the bags.

 “Sure,” she replied. She plucked Galahad up and set him on the couch, beside Arthur. To Arthur, she whispered, “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

 “You both are making me so nervous.”

 “I won’t be gone long.” She kissed Arthur on the forehead, and set another bag of drinks beside him. “Try and relax, please?”

 Arthur took a breath and sighed. “I’ll give you three, before I start losin’ my mind.” He snared Galahad, before he could begin chewing at the supplies.

 Before leaving, she charged Mystery with looking after Arthur. She wasn’t confident Arthur was fully out of the woods yet, despite Lewis’ assurance.

 The workspace of the garage seemed infinitely more barren and silent, once all the excitement had aired out completely. Uncle Lance would’ve under normal circumstance shut down the lights through the entire building, save for the upper floor. As she crossed the floor, she was almost afraid the place was utterly abandoned. Not that this would matter to her, but Arthur’s distress was cause for concern. The argument between he and Lewis was nearly lost on her, but given the day it didn’t take much to deduce her living friends hesitation.

 When she rounded the sportscar, Vivi uttered a squeak of relief. “I thought maybe you’d already taken off.”

 Lewis actually maintained his solidity and rotated his skull, then his shoulders, but only a margin. “No. I was thinking.” He was examining the space beside the toolcart, where they located the bag of Arthur’s crafts. A number of orbs bobbed around Lewis, while he contemplated.

 “Personally, I would prefer you go after this guy,” she admitted. She stepped up alongside Lewis, and gave the area a brief but mortal search. “But what would that solve?” Vivi wasn’t certain if he was aware the living guise was not restored yet, or if his focus was out of whack.

 “Not a lot, I suppose,” he uttered, voice rustling. “I might head over to your apartment, and rest there for a bit.”

 She meant to say, ‘You don’t have to, unless you want’. But what came out was, “I don’t think you should.”

 “I’ll be well enough. So will Art,” Lewis replied. His skull adjusted, lifting a little higher than anticipated above his crisp white collar. “He and I… well, you saw.” There was something else indistinct to that tone, but it was choppy and a trial to translate. “I’ve never seen him so mad before. Not even on a botched assignment.”

 Arthur had many fears, both grand or miniscule threats to his personal being. There were methods to supersede the private terrors which confronted him.

 “You gunna be all right?” she posed, while reaching out to his hand. But stopped herself.

 “The concern is appreciated, though I don’t think… well, I wouldn’t be in any peril.” Lewis turned fully to Vivi and set his hands on either of her shoulders, he leaned down and set the upper edge of his jaw against her bangs. An endearing skeleton kiss.

 Vivi couldn’t help but giggle. “We’ll come by and check on you in the morning.” As Lewis backed away, his shape and color drained out beneath the blazing illumination of the lamps above.

 “By then, we should have cooled down.” With a surge of embers, Lewis vanished entirely. His words continued to ring out, however, “No dejes Arthur to worry. He can do with taking better care of himself, for a change.”

 Uncertain if Lewis was still present or not, Vivi went ahead and left the area. She called, “I’ll remind him, like usual. It’s a task easier said than done.” The atmosphere was completely palpable, when Lewis abandoned the area completely. Likely due to the anticipation, the sensation of being observed from afar evaporated. She had her suspicions, but she wanted to take Lewis’ word on the matter.

 The lights too emptied out of the open airspace of the work floor, when she snapped the switches off. Her course from the entry corridor and to the ascending steps was very lonely, her perception becoming constrained with each set of lamps clicked off. A penetrating silence moved through her, while an overbearing draft kneaded her muscles. Her hand traced the wall with her ascent, each step calculated, cautious should Galahad have made his way down the steps on the behest of his most favorite person.

 When she reached the private workroom, she found Arthur already fast asleep. That was good, she reckoned. Both for his bruised body, and the emotional expulsion. Arthur was entirely out cold, his good arm curled beneath his cheek and the muscles in his face relaxed – she could scarcely make out his breathing, until she closed in further. Nestled against his neck, a small ball of puff and metal.

 Across Arthur’s folded legs lay Mystery, his bright eyes observed Vivi as she approached. On the ground beside the couch, rested a few crumpled wrappers of junk food and an open can of coffee drink; the caffeine no match to physical or mental exhaustion.

 “Tomorrow might not be better than today,” Vivi hummed. She took a rumpled blanket from the couches back and lay it around her friends. “But it’ll deliver us further away. The only constant is that days are relentless, whether we want them or not. Take us on a journey, and though we never can return to once ways.”

 She climbed onto the couch, close beside Mystery so she could lean over and scratch his neck. “There’s a place awaiting us, ready to receive the person we became. Indifferent to the changes, next year only wants to see us arrive. Scars aside, hurt and disappointment, blessings all the same. When we arrive, there will be no resentment. Celebrate who we are, and mourn the loss of who we once were. There is no turning back, and no regret, if our steps are steadfast. Survival is an artform, and I’m a masterful composer. The colors I use on my canvas will never dull. No matter how far we travel down the road, at my core I am complete.

 Mystery arched his head up and licked at her hand.

 “If I wasn’t, my world would crumble. Without you, the bridges fail. And the peril will never end, without you. Without you, there’s no place like home. No where to go. Without you I’d lose my way, caught up in the shadows of long-lost days.”

 In the stillness of the small workroom, Vivi drifted off into a deep slumber. Perhaps assisted, perhaps not. One aspect was for certain, as it became a certainty that Vivi was well and asleep, the light of the room doused completely. The door creaked on its hinges, as an imposing silhouette eased back trailing a rose tinged vapor of light.

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 9

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3, my username is the same there!

previous | next

9. scars we cover up with paint

The first thing they’re aware of once the gunfire stops is Elliott running towards them, and they don’t quite register what he’s doing until he’s already done it. 

Elliott is hugging them fiercely, whooping and hollering and jumping up and down, and they stand in his embrace as stiff as a board. He picks them up and spins them around, laughing joyfully. They’re delighted to have won, of course, but they didn’t expect Elliott’s reaction in the slightest. His warmth, his smell, his softness- all of it engulfs them in one singular moment, and their cheeks burn harder than they have in years. The victory music blares over the loudspeakers, and the surge of pride they had felt blazes in their chest between the two of them. Just before they melt into his touch, he stiffens, puts them down, and jerks away.

“Uh… s-sorry,” he stammers, his eyes wide as he backs up. 

They stare at him, at a complete loss for words. Nothing in Bloodhound’s brain is working properly- their thoughts are just one big blank, and it scares them.

Wh-

Gibraltar claps Elliott on the shoulder, laughing that big, booming laugh of his. “Well, would you look at that!” he says, grinning. A relieved whoosh of air leaves Bloodhound’s lungs. “Witt clutches the win! Great job, bruddah. I knew you could do it.”

He shakes himself a little, and turns away from them. “Thanks! Couldn’t have done it without you guys. Or maybe I could’ve. Who knows?” He shrugs and flips his hair a little. The arrogant facade is back, and it makes a twinge of sadness poke at Bloodhound’s heart. 

“Well done, félagi,” they say as they cross their arms. “Ég er stoltur af þér.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” he quips, smiling and rolling his eyes.

Bloodhound laughs, just a little. “I am proud of you.”

The grin that splits his face is enough to warm their chest for the rest of the day.

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

The lights in the Paradise Lounge are dim, and it’s very close to closing time. Bloodhound stands in the doorway, peeking inside from the shadows. Only a few people linger in the bar. Makoa and Ajay are among them, laughing and finishing off their drinks. Elliott is with them, leaning against the bar and sipping at a drink of his own. Bloodhound smiles at the sight. They are grateful that their fellow Legends are (mostly) friendly with one another; the idea of a hostile environment outside of the ring is not particularly enjoyable. 

They linger at the doorstep for another moment, debating on whether or not to go in. This is ridiculous, they think. You never show up to post-match celebrations. Why now? But a part of them knows the answer. And another part of them wishes they didn’t.

They shake themself internally. There is no use, they think. They turn to leave. There is no point in staying, no point in mingling with people they rarely speak to, and no point in being here if they couldn’t be alone with-

“Bloodhound?”

Elliott’s voice echoes from behind them, and the residual joy from his win today is evident in his voice. They turn back, and their heart stutters in their chest when their eyes lock on his. The light from the bulbs at the bar paint his face in shades of warm gold and yellow, running fingers of light through his dark hair. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of his purple button-down are open, giving them an unobstructed view of the top of his chest. They’re suddenly very glad they need a mask to breathe.

“Good evening, Elliott,” they reply, after a horrifyingly long moment. “Hello, Makoa, Ajay.” They incline their head to each of them in turn as they approach the bar. 

“Hey, cousin.” Makoa raises his glass to them and smiles widely, nodding.

“‘Sup, BH?” Ajay quips, tossing up a peace sign. “Don’t see yuh here very often. What are yuh up to?”

“Uh, yeah,” Elliott butts in, setting down his glass. “What’s up?”

It strikes Bloodhound that they have absolutely no idea how to respond to that.

“Come on, bruddah, they’re here to celebrate!” Makoa says, raising his bottle and draining it. Bloodhound is beyond grateful for him for the second time today. “And who wouldn’t, with a win like ours? Elliott, my man, that smoke screen idea was fantastic.”

Elliott bows dramatically, flourishing his hand as he goes. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, adopting a grandiose tone that makes Bloodhound roll their eyes. “It was one of my finer ideas, I must admit.”

“All of yuh were on fire today,” Ajay admits, shaking her head. ‘Specially you, Hound. Damn scary when yuh come at everyone while you’re glowin’ like that.”

A twinge of annoyance crosses their chest as it always does whenever someone doesn’t use their full name, but they let it pass. “You fought well, felagi,” they reply. “You managed to evade me, and few are able to do so. I commend you for your efforts.” For the first time they are self-conscious of how stilted and formal they sound, but they don’t know what to do to change that. They look to Elliott and Makoa. “But we still came out victorious in the end, did we not?”

“Hell yeah, we did!” Elliott cheers, smiling widely at them. He raises his glass to try and clink it with theirs, but he seems to realize that he did not offer them one. His eyes go wide for a fraction of a second and red flushes his cheeks. “Uh, you wouldn’t happen to want a drink, would you?” He looks extremely unsure of his offer, and he sets his cup back down on the counter, looking sheepish as he grabs an extra one.

“No, thank you,” Bloodhound replies. “I do not drink.”

“Didn’t think so,” Elliott says quickly, and the cup is gone in an instant. 

“I appreciate the gesture.” Bloodhound takes a seat at the bar to Ajay’s left and tries their best to settle in amongst all their gear. It proves to be a little difficult- the bar stool is small and their uniform is awkward. Part of them wishes they had just left their extra gear back at their apartment, but they know they would have felt too exposed without it. They tune back into the conversation just as Makoa begins to laugh.

“--and then I told him, ‘bruddah, it’s gonna take a lot more than that to knock me down!’” He laughs uproariously, and Elliott and Ajay join him, nearly doubling over from their mirth. Bloodhound finds themself staring at Elliott- listening to his amusing laugh, admiring the curve of his smile, enjoying the contour of his jawline amidst his beard. They gaze at him unabashedly under the mask, wondering what it would be like to-

They catch themself. 

None of that, they berate themself. Elliott is a friend. Nothing more. 

Their chest aches a little at the thought, but Bloodhound staunchly pushes it away. 

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

The night winds down, and Ajay and Makoa soon decide to leave, leaving Bloodhound and Elliott alone in the bar. The three of them were excellent company, and had managed to make Bloodhound laugh a few times. That had surprised Bloodhound; they hadn’t expected to have such a good time. Part of them wondered if it would last, if it was worth it to keep coming back. That was yet to be determined.

Elliott picks up the glasses and begins to clean them. “So, have a good time?” he asks nonchalantly. 

“Surprisingly, yes,” they answer, popping their fingers. The social interaction had nearly wiped them out, and they’re nearly ready to retreat back to their small apartment to sleep. They’re looking forward to their day off before the match on King’s Canyon. Strangely enough, coming back to Solace for the Games always felt like coming home. 

“‘Surprisingly’?” Elliott says, a laugh pressing at his voice. “What do you mean? C’mon, Bloodhound, can you really resist Makoa’s laugh? Or Ajay’s jokes? Or my unrelenting charm?” He winks at them, biting his lip a little, and there’s a strange fluttering sensation in their stomach. 

“What charm?” they deadpan. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Elliott places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “You mean you don’t see all of this glorious Witt wit? I’m wounded, Bloodhound, I really am.” He sniffs greatly and pretends to wipe away a tear. 

Bloodhound laughs, and their chest hurts a little. “‘Witt wit’?” they ask, incredulous as they shake their head. “That is your worst joke all evening. Including the one about the Gaean golfer.”

Elliott laughs too, throwing his head back in mirth. Bloodhound loves the sound of it. It’s embarrassingly heavy and goofy, but so… Elliott. “Oh man, that golfer joke gets people every time,” he says, patting his chest absentmindedly. He sighs, a smile still resting on his face. “It’s just classic.” 

Bloodhound shakes their head again, smiling under the mask. It strikes them how effortless this feels. They didn’t like talking to others for long, but Elliott... Elliott is different.

And that confuses the hell out of them. 

“Thank you for your company, Elliott,” they say. “I quite enjoyed the evening.” 

“It was good to see you,” he replies as he finishes cleaning the glasses. “Why don’t you come around more often? I would- I mean, we- would love to see more of you.” Elliott’s cheeks flush a little, which Bloodhound notices.

“I… will consider it,” they answer carefully. They truly had a great time, but… a small part of them nags at their brain, kicking up a stir and whispering, You do not belong here. You do not deserve this. It kicks at their heart, forcing it back into the box where it belongs. Their feet shift to get up from the stool, but their body does not follow. 

“Fair enough,” Elliott says. He seems to think for a moment, and then asks, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Bloodhound considers this. “Yes. But know that I may not give you a straight answer.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” he laughs. Then, he sobers up and looks a little unsure of himself. “I noticed you when we were on the Epicenter tower earlier. You had a little case and it looked like you were meditating or something. What were you doing?”

The question catches them somewhat off guard. They didn’t expect him to be quite so bold in asking, though they can’t really blame him. Maybe it’s the lateness of the hour, or maybe it’s because of the happiness they’ve felt, but they answer him honestly. “I was offering a prayer to the gods,” they say.

“What about?” he asks. “For the match?” Part of them is a little bothered at his nosiness, but they know it’s because of the whiskey he’s had. He’s not drunk, but he has had enough to loosen his tongue a little. 

“Yes, and no,” they reply. A familiar sense of grief floods their chest, and they allow it to visit and poke around a little. The words are spilling from their mouth before they realize what they’re saying, their tongue loosened by the pain and the growing trust they have in him. “I asked the Allfather to strengthen us and lead us to victory.” They swallow, suddenly feeling like a deer in the headlights. “I also... asked him to keep my mother and father’s spirits at rest.”

Elliott raises his eyebrows, and his mouth opens a little. “Oh,” he says. “Um… what happened to them?”

They hesitate. 

“Do you know the history behind World’s Edge?” they ask quietly. That nagging part of them starts to scream and thrash, but they seize it and stuff it away. 

“Not really,” he says, rubbing his neck. “All I know is that there was a huge meltdown at an IMC facility like, thirty years ago or something, and that’s what caused all the ice around Epicenter. Why?” 

Bloodhound sighs, and their heart feels raw and tender as it emerges from the box they had so carefully squeezed it into. 

The snow beneath their feet crunches as they approach the tower. It looms above them, taunting them, digging its claws into their soul and ripping away the layers and layers of protection they had so meticulously constructed. The mountains of ice around them seem to collapse over them, trapping them inside and suffocating them. Their eyes sting and burn, their legs shake, and sweat runs down their back in waves. Bloodhound knows that somewhere, deep below the remnants of this facility, the corpses of their mother and father have solidified into ice.

Ajay stops next to them, staring at them for a moment. “Yuh all right, BH?”

They cannot answer; their throat is clamped shut with freezing irons, and their jaw will not open. Their goggles are fogging up, and their vision is blurry. Their breaths come in quick, half-gasps, and their hands tremble. 

“Bloodhound?” Anita’s voice is firm, but warm. The two women look at them, concerned. 

“I…” they manage. “I am fine. Please continue on. I will loot here.”

“Yuh know that’s bullshit,” Ajay replies steadily. “Come on, what’s up?”

“I told you I am fine. Please do not worry.”

Ajay rolls her eyes. “Fine, but don’t come cryin’ to me later when you need a rez.” She turns and begins to make her way down the hill. 

Anita stares at them sternly, but not devoid of concern, and asks, “You gonna be good for combat?”

Bloodhound clenches their fists to stop them from shaking. “Yes.”

They slowly pull out the silver case from an inside pocket of their jacket and open it. Their parents stare up at them, smiling happily. Their father’s youthful optimism and spark shine through the photo, and he cradles their mother lovingly. Their mother was so beautiful. Her ginger hair matches their own, and she holds an infant Bloodhound in her arms. Opposite the pair of them, their uncle Artur sits stiffly for his picture, blushing a little in discomfort. His bushy red beard covers his mouth completely, but Bloodhound knows he’s smiling anyway.

They stare at the pictures, willing the ache in their body to subside. “My mother and father were brilliant scientists,” they say. They slide the case over to Elliott, their heart pounding in their chest harder than it ever has before. “The IMC recruited them for their research on energy harvesting. They brought me to Talos when I was very young, and they began to build a life for us.” Their voice tightens fractionally, and they force their throat to relax, because there is no way in Hel they are going to cry in front of him right now.

“The IMC meddled with concepts and forces they did not understand, and my parents suffered because of it.” They did not meet Elliott’s eyes. “When the facility exploded, it caused a meltdown, and my parents were caught in it. They are still there, somewhere. Under the ice. They would not allow us to retrieve the bodies.”

Elliott is silent for a few agonizing moments. “Y-Your parents…” he starts, his voice shocked. “Your parents are… under Epicenter?”

“Yes.”

“And you have to walk over their corpses every time you’re there?” Bloodhound hears him pick up the case, and he takes a few moments to examine it. “Oh, my God. I don’t know what to say.” They hear him swallow thickly, and his voice is quiet and reverent the next time he speaks. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Do not be,” Bloodhound sighs. “It was many years ago.” The last thing they want or need is for Elliott to pity them. While traversing World’s Edge had severely jarred them at first, they had managed to somewhat make peace with their horrifying obligation to walk over their parents’ graves. They did not need anyone else to feel their emotions for them. Especially Elliott.

“How the hell do you deal with that?” Elliott asks, his voice hushed. “I mean, I have no idea what I would do.”

“It was… difficult at first,” they admit reluctantly. They look over to him, and their heart stops in their chest. He’s examining the pictures inside it with a fascinated horror, his mouth open, his eyes wide. It’s as though he’s in a trance. 

They swallow hard and continue speaking. “It is still difficult, if I must be honest. That is why I ask the gods for strength every time I am there.”

Elliott is quiet for a long time as he stares at the case, and Bloodhound begins to worry that they have said too much, dumped too much on his head. They start to push their heart back into the box they had constructed, and the nagging voice comes back- stupid, stupid, STUPID- 

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, and the kindness and awe in his voice makes their head snap up to meet his gaze. 

Elliott stares at them with open admiration and reverence. The honesty of it makes them want to hide away, because they certainly do not deserve these words.

“I told you before, I am human, like you.” Their voice comes out far more irritated than they intended, and they wince. “I appreciate your compliment, but please know I am not anything special.”

“Oh, come on,” Elliott says, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “That’s absolute bullshit. You’re special. You kick ass, you’re powerful, you carry my sorry ass through basically every match we’re teamed up in-”

“That is not true, Elliott,” they interrupt, the annoyance building more now. “You held your own today, and I was very proud of you. I am very proud of you.” 

He shakes his head, visibly biting back a smile. “Okay, fine, I did all right in today’s game. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of the most valuable assets to any team.”

It’s Bloodhound’s turn to shake their head. “I simply do what the Allfather asks of me, nothing more. The outcome of any match is written before we even step into the arena, and there is no changing that.”

“You seriously believe that?” Elliott asks. “You seriously think that our fates are set in stone and we can’t do a damn thing to change them?” The frustration of the other night is returning, and Bloodhound hates that they are the cause of it. 

“Yes, Elliott,” they fire back, feeling exhausted and exasperated. “I do. You do not have to agree, but that is the principle on which I have fashioned my entire life. Please do not disrespect that.”

He sighs, waving his hands in a placating gesture. “All right, sorry, sorry. All I’m saying is, maybe you should have a little faith in yourself every once in a while. I’m sure your gods are fa- fast- great, but so are you.” He leans on the counter across from them, his hands coming to rest on the lacquered wood. 

“You know not of what you speak,” they murmur quietly. Under any other circumstance, they would be angry, but they cannot summon up the energy. “I am not hrokafullur- arrogant- enough to think that I will succeed alone.” Their heart aches, and their chest feels like it’s being crushed with frustration and grief. They’ve done so well in managing their emotions up until now, but talking about their parents has put them in a place they have done their best to avoid for a very long time. Why him? Why Elliott? Why do they feel like he can be trusted, despite everything they have buried? Despite everything they have done?

“I’m not saying you need to do anything alone, Bloodhound,” Elliott replies, his voice patient. “I’m just saying you need to give yourself more credit. You’re seriously the greatest warrior I’ve ever met.” He looks at them expectantly, and Bloodhound can see the expectation on his face. But there’s something else there, too- a boldness that Bloodhound has come to miss from him. They stare directly into his beautiful brown eyes, not breaking eye contact. For the first time, the simple act of looking at him makes their face heat up, and if it wasn’t for the mask, they would have looked away a long time ago. They notice that his hands are very, very close to theirs, and the desire to reach out and touch him is far more intense than they bargained for. 

Bloodhound finally sighs and looks down. “I am sorry, vinur minn. Thank you, but I cannot agree.” Their voice is barely above a whisper, and it takes a great amount of effort to make anything audible. “Maybe one day, but…”

They suddenly feel pressure against their hands, and they look over to them quickly. Elliott’s hands are trembling, and his knuckles are pressing against their gloved fingers with hesitation. They inhale sharply, flinching, but a part of Bloodhound forces their body to relax, to welcome his touch, even though the other part is screaming at them to run away. Time stretches out like molasses, and Bloodhound reaches further across the bar. That nagging part of them begs them to stop, but they shove it away angrily. The instant their hands make contact with his, their heart stills, and it’s only then that they realize it’s been pounding and roaring in their ears. They do not dare look into his eyes, because they don’t want to see pity or admiration or anything else he has for them. They don’t want his kindness. 

Yes, you do, they think. You want it so badly you think your soul is going to burst. You are pathetic, craving affection and acceptance from those who it is most unattainable from. You really think Mirage can save you? You really think Elliott Witt, heartthrob of the Outlands, will listen to your woes? You are a naive child, and nothing has changed. You are the same person you were all those years ago when Boone-

“Hey, um…” Elliott’s voice startles them out of their thoughts, and they meet his eyes. There is no pity there, only patience and a determined concern. “I… I know we don’t know each other very well, but… If you ever need to talk about anything or whatever, I’ve got ears.” His cheeks redden, and he begins to babble, letting go of Bloodhound’s hands to gesticulate wildly. “I mean, I’m all yours- I’ve got ea- ugh, I’ve got you and I’m all ears.” He stares intently at the wood of the bar, blushing a bright red as he crosses his arms and hides his face in his hand.

Something inside Bloodhound fills them with a strange kind of static. It feels warm and alarming all at once. It pools in their stomach, swirling around with a pleasant feeling, and all they can do for a moment is stare and blush furiously. Their heart starts pounding in their ears again. They’re surprised by his words. For so long, they have been the one to reassure and uplift others. And now, someone is reciprocating? Someone cares? Elliott cares?

The feeling inside them multiples and a soft peace quiets the annoyances that have plagued them all evening. “That is… very much appreciated, Elliott.” Their throat is tight, and they have to fight to keep their voice steady. 

“Hey, no problem,” he shrugs. “It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me. My advice might not be great, but I can try.” 

“The effort is appreciated,” they murmur. They want to take his hands again. They want to feel his skin on theirs again. They want to know what it would feel like to be held in his arms and kept safe. They want to-

“Oh, hey, here’s this.” Elliott offers the case back to them, and they shake themself out of their thoughts as their cheeks burn. 

“Thank you.” They take it from him and tuck it back into their jacket pocket.

“Who’s the other guy? The one with the awesome beard?” Elliott strokes his own face as he says this, brushing his fingers through his already-perfect facial hair.

Bloodhound smiles. “That is my uncle, Artur.” They look into his face, taking advantage of the mask so they can stare at his gorgeous features unabashedly. 

“Is he… you know… still around?” he asks, hesitation written all over him.

A deep feeling in their chest twists around painfully, and their scars seem to burn. Their lungs ache and clench, and the air seems to leak out of them at an agonizing pace. Bloodhound’s heart begins to pound again, and blood rushes through their veins. “No, he is not,” they reply, trying to calm themself down. Breathe in. One, two, three, four-

“I’m sorry.” Elliott is silent for a moment. “What happened to him?”

It’s an innocent enough question, but it makes adrenaline shoot through Bloodhound’s veins like Octane’s stim. A horrible buzzing sound fills their ears, and their mouth runs dry. Their palms begin to sweat, making their gloves feel too tight around their hands. Dread fills their stomach and seizes their lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe. What breath they do manage to take in is choppy, uneven. That awful nagging voice is back, screeching into their ears- your fault, your fault, your fault-

“Th-that is a story for another time,” they manage, and they get up from the bar, their limbs shaking.

“Hey, wait, are you okay?” Elliott asks, and there’s concern all over his face. He reaches out over the bar and tries to steady them, but they’re already moving towards the door. “Bloodhound! Wait!” 

“Please, Elliott, I am fine,” they choke, their vision beginning to blur. “I will see you in the match.” 

“Bloodhound, come back-”

But they’re already out the door and swiftly striding down the street towards their apartment, leaving Elliott and his reaching heart behind.

When they make it back to their tiny apartment on the third floor, they slam the door behind them and rush to the bathroom. They pull off the gloves, helmet, goggles, and mask and set them on the counter. Shuddering gasps hiss through their teeth as they turn on the tap and plunge their hands beneath the icy water. They pull the stopper in the sink and let the liquid pool until it’s deep enough to plunge their face into. Bloodhound leans over the counter, takes a deep breath, and presses their head into the water, keeping it there as long as they can stand it.

They gasp, stumbling backwards from the sink until their back makes contact with the door. Water runs down their face in rivulets, soaking their jacket and hair. They breathe heavily for a few moments, and they meet their own gaze in the mirror. Their scarred skin is red from shock, and their hair sticks to itself, drenched. For one eternal second, everything is fine. 

But the moment passes, and they sink to their knees, burying their face in their hands as sobs begin to burst from their mouth.

[themovieworldaccordingtotps]

BEST MOVIES OF 2020 (Arranged alphabetically)

1.     David Byrne’s American Utopia Director: Spike Lee Cast: David Byrne, Chris Giarmo, Tendayi Kuumba, Karl Mansfield, Angie Swan, Bobby Wooten III, Mauro Refosco, Tim Keiper, Gustavo Di Dalva, Jacquelene Acevedo, Daniel Freedman, Stephane San Juan Critic’s Notes: Stop Making Sense is my favorite concert of all time. So, American Utopia easily slots in as one of my favorite. And boy, this is the most urgent film of 2020. It is that watchable as David Byrne possesses his inner Mr. Rogers to guide Americans to an ideal society.

2.     Driveways Director: Andrew Ahn Cast: Hong Chau, Lucas Jaye, Jerry Adler, Robyn Payne, Christine Ebersole, Brian Dennehy Critic’s Notes: Just the sweetest swan song from Brian Dennehy before his passing. Generally, this film is a slice-of-life story of the unlikely friendship between a lonely boy and a lonely senior, and the poignancy is too precious that it struck a chord.

3.     Fan Girl Director: Antoinette Jadaone Cast: Charlie Dizon, Paulo Avelino Critic’s Notes:  For my native pick from Philippine cinema, here is an unlikely story between a fan and her idol. It is a predictable deconstruction of an acclaimed, who becomes an over-the-top antithesis to his onscreen persona. But the script is sharp, so as the delightful leads.

4.     First Cow Director: Kelly Reichardt Cast: John Magaro, Orion Lee, Toby Jones, Ewen Bremner, Scott Shepherd, Gary Farmer, Lily Gladstone, Alia Shawkat Critic’s Notes: Kelly Reichardt became the Yasujirō Ozu of 2020, for this film contains the year’s most meditative shots and moodiest atmosphere on an otherwise simple story of friendship.

5.     I’m Thinking of Ending Things Director: Charlie Kaufman Cast: Jesse Plemons, Jessie Buckley, Toni Collette, David Thewlis, Guy Boyd, Hadley Robinson, Gus Birney, Abby Quinn, Colby Minifie Critic’s Notes: Charlie Kaufman is one of the pioneers of meta storytelling. And him helming one of the most unnerving suspense novels is a strange one. But it brings to light the subgenre of existential horror. First viewing may not be scary, but lingering on its subtext is the scariest part.

6.     Minari Director: Lee Isaac Chung Cast: Steven Yeun, Han Ye-ri, Alan Kim, Noel Kate Cho, Youn Yuh-jung, Scott Haze, Will Patton Critic’s Notes: My pick for the best film of 2020, Minari is another slice-of-story about a Korean immigrant family wanting to achieve the American dream in Arkansas. What it lacks on dramatic stakes, it has the heart of a striving family. And the best subplot comes from grandma Soon-ja.

7.     Palm Springs Director: Max Brabakow Cast: Andy Samberg, Cristin Milioti, Meredith Hagner, Camila Mendes, Tyler Hoechlin, Peter Gallagher, Chris Pang, June Squibb, J. K. Simmons Critic’s Notes: The emblematic comedy of the last year, Palm Springs takes in the time-loop trope and gives it a fresh twist. The true heart of it is the chemistry between Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti, whose signature personas seemingly blend.

8.     Soul Director: Pete Docter Cast: Jamie Foxx, Tina Fey, Graham Norton, Rachel House, Alice Braga, Richard Ayoade, Phylicia Rashad, Donnell Rawlings, Questlove, Angela Bassett Critic’s Notes: Aside from Brad Bird, Pete Docter just become one of the Pixar directors whose films are worth waiting. Soul is an intriguing character study of two souls needing to find the purpose of their lives. With its layers and layers of themes, this is the boldest Pixar project since The Incredibles.

9.     Sound of Metal Director: Darius Marder Cast: Riz Ahmed, Olivia Cooke, Paul Raci, Lauren Ridloff, Mathieu Amalric, Chelsea Lee Critic’s Notes: Riz Ahmed is the reason to see this film that honors the deaf and disabled community. His character’s deconstruction and subtle expressions give such gravitas that it is heart-wrenching to watch. Also, the best sound design of the year. (Sorry, Tenet.)

10.  Wolfwalkers Director: Tomm Moore and Ross Stewart Cast: Honor Kneafsey, Eva Whittaker, Sean Bean, Simon McBurney, Tommy Tiernan, Jon Kenny, John Morton, Maria Doyle Kennedy Critic’s Notes: Cartoon Saloon just landed itself as one of the prime animation studios, next to Pixar, Studio Ghibli and Laika, with their most ambitious film yet. Wolfwalkers is perhaps their Princess Mononoke with a fresh twist on Irish history.

Runners-Up: Hamilton, The King of Staten Island, Run, The Trail of the Chicago 7, The Vast of Night

Missed Masterpieces: Nomadland, One Night in Miami, Promising Young Woman, Rocks, The Father

[acciostorian]

mae reads the kane chronicles: the serpent’s shadow the red pyramid

(aka we see mae go through many emotions in the space of 2-3 days)

holy fuck ive only got to the contents and the chapters have those classic pjo click bait titles i’m so happy rn

WAIT IM SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT- the serpent’s shadow is the THIRD BOOK. uh-oh i almost fucked this whole series over lemme change the book real quick....

i’m literally on the first page and i’ve already been sent on a mission, so the kanes are THOSE bitches

SADIE AND KANE ARE BRITISH???? omg yes please

THEYRE IN LONDON MY HOME

never fucking mind they’re from LA

oh wait sadie was raised as a british kid. that’s very sexy of her.

carter be like, “you wouldn’t be interested in my dad’s lectures.” SHUT UP CARTER I WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT EGYPTIAN PUNISHMENT

so sadie was raised in east london???? THATS SO SEXC BECAUSE ME TOO BOO

sadie has a british accent. a b r i t i s h a c c e n t.

FIT

“six years in london and she thinks she’s james bond” LMAO

sadie’s so emo/alt i love it. does rick always write his characters like this??

sadie pronounces it “mum” and carter says “mom”

it’s so refreshing to read mum ngl

sadie said bloke omg

i’m feeling carter’s pain. little sisters are shits and honestly sadie has the same vibes as my little sister and me and carter are quite similar. i hate this.

oh wow they really said sadie was too white for their family...

sadie did not HESITATE to be like, “yeah dad we’ll lock that guy in his office. mint.”

sadie telling the story is an experience

sadie said “maths” and “mates” in the same sentence. this is some refreshing shit.

sadie’s friends saying carter is hot is fucking hilarious. like it’s a classic piss-off to thirst over your mate’s sibling

THEYRE GETTING DEPORTED????

LMAO AMOS WAS LIKE, “yeah we don’t talk about manhattan. they’ve got their own problems. *cough percy jackson cough*”

i read thoth the god of knowledge as thot the god of knowledge

carter is right, amos has undeniable swag

philip of macedonia. the crocodile. cool.

i love how the greeks and romans be like “if we don’t honour the gods we’ll get SLAUGHTERED” and the egyptians are like “you know what? fuck the gods me and my homies hate the gods”

sadie kane would stab you in a back alley and dance to mcr as you bled to death and carter kane would take you to a museum, tell you everything about everything and then commit a terrorist attack

amos really went “don’t touch anything, the cats in charge and peace out bitches” and then fucking jumped off the balcony of his five storey mansion

sadie made that door go BANG

that fucking clay statue came to life and not one of them screamed. I WOULD SHIT MYSELF.

i’m giggling, all the greek/roman gods have really long/scary/cool sounding names like tartarus and chaos and nyx but the evilest guy in egyptian myth is called set. S E T.

please make muffin some crazy badass animal like crookshanks or swiftwind.

WHO DARES THROW HANDS WITH PHILIP?????

THE SHABTI FUCKING STOLE AN ARTEFACT THATS AMAZING

i love carter sm, even tho he’s scared as fuck he still picked up that ancient sword and was like “ig i’ll bash some heads in whilst sadie holds the cat”

MUFFIN JUST TURNED INTO SOME WARRIOR CAT LADY AND SHE INSTANTLY GAVE ME CATRA VIBES

every cat in new york is helping them

bast jacked that car like it was nobody’s business

i used to think the greek gods were stupid for having so many things to control but honestly the egyptians are taking the piss, do you really need a whole scorpion goddess?

the kane siblings are written so well. like i actually BELIEVE they’re siblings

i think carters gonna become a comfort character now... like i relate on another level. little siblings always take the spot light and you have to act level headed and calm because the younger ones start shit and you’re like “i gotta be the good one because my family would fall to shit if i didn’t behave.” so big kudos to carter, i love you

so carter’s a king huh? I DIDNT NEED YOU TO TELL ME THAT RICK I ALREADY KNEW HE WAS

zia was like “king tut?? ugh he was such a boy, there were waaaaay cooler tombs out there x x”

i read “nectanebo II” as “nintendo II” and i was like ??? when was that a thing

i drinking camomile tea whilst reading this and i feel so peaceful uwu

sadie really can do magic like THAT like bitch be like “i just copied what zia did and yeah it worked lol”

okay so i’m sorta feeling bad about sadies life rn but i’m still very pro carter

set’s laugh makes me uncomfortable. because when most villains laugh it’s usually described like “their laugh was like a knife, cold and sharp. i hates it.” but when sadie discribed set’s laugh she was like “it was warm and friendly. beautiful.” LIKE AAAA THATS A RED LIGHT

set: the god of theatre because gods dam is he a good actor

sadie saw some hot emo guy and was like “omg marry me”

iskandar be like “lmao imma speak in alexandria greek all the time but this girl bouta die? i switch to perfect english for dramatic effect”

woooOooaaaah SLOW DOWN THERE BUDDY, tongue tattoos???

zia: you guys will probably suck at this at first but oh well we all can’t be great

sadie: *makes fire first time* wooosh

sadie and kane: *doing cool shit* me and my tea: sluuuurrrp

bast is so sassy i love it

me when it’s a sadie chapter: okay ig :/

me when it’s a carter chapter: HOLY SHIT CARTER HEY OMG YOURE DOING CRAZY STUFF???? COOL. i love you.

bast: so yeah, you’d be stupid to teleport to paris, this is desjardin’s home territory

sadie and kane, lying in the streets of paris: oh cool cool

sadie: like i might die rn but i don’t care, as long as it doesn’t get filmed and put in youtube, that would be embarrassing

like ???? sis get your priorities together smh

sadie: *sees hot emo guy again in her spirit adventure, he hints that’s he’s dead or something*

also sadie: so will i see you again?

“no, an egyptian drink. you’ve heard of hot chocolate? this is rather like hot vanilla.” dam now i want some.

carter is an amazing older brother. he’s written perfectly and he’s a great character to relate to for me. even though sadie can make his blood boil, he dropped everything to calm her down when she was panicking about not being able to change back from a bird. i too have to do that for my little sister - sadie and ava are ironically the same age - so i find that very comforting that there is someone like me to relate to!

‘a businessman with a rolling suitcase was waiting by the doors. his eyes widened when he saw me. i must’ve looked pretty strange — a tall black kid in dirty, ragged egyptian clothes, with a weird box tucked under one arm and a bird of prey perched on the other.

‘“how’s it going?” i said. “i’ll take the stairs.” he hurried off.’ LMAO THIS IS WHY CARTER BABY I LOVE YOU

highkey pissed that carters like “i’m always edgy around the police. once i turned eleven they started giving me the Look. when it doesn’t happen it’s always a pleasant surprise.” LIKE FUCK NO HE SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO WALK AROUND UNHASSLED WHATS WRONG WITH HIM

lmao bast be like “imma jump off this national monument. see ya at the airport in my finest clothes and jewellery x”

FOOD UPDATE: i’m eating a chocolate covered waffles and having some tea and i feel so happy rn sorry i know you don’t care but like aaaaaaa

bast called carter her little tomcat and my heart exploded

bast really likes convertibles huh

thoth: i hate rereading my old writing, my present self would never write like this now!! SOMEONE GET ME A RED PEN

are they... are they going to dig up elvis presley?

might put some elvis in for this part, y’know, to set the mood?

i cant stop reading ‘thoth’ as thot even though i know how to pronounce it

the captain with a axe for a head: my name is bloodstained battle axe 😸

yuh bast did some shit ...

imma stop now because spoilers, GO READ THE KANE CHRONICLES THEY ARE THE MOST UNDERRATED RIORDANVERSE BOOKS X X