#and there are no tourists which means everybody wants to talk

[todaviia]

.

#I was very sick of the war today and my bf is invited to a shabbat dinner with a friend that I don't care for so much #so I spontaneously went to Nazareth (the biggest all-Palestinian city in Israel) #and it's literally making me cry because everybody is so nice #I get invited for coffee all the time #and there are no tourists which means everybody wants to talk #And also do you know how many people I've heard defend Hamas? #It's zero #But what people have told me is how they're terrified for their family members in rocket affected areas #and how they know people who have been killed by Hamas #and how everybody here wants peace #and anyway real life Jewish and Arab people figuring out how to talk to each other despite everything #will ultimately be more important than 99% of social media

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

Queerplatonic Riddler x Reader fanfic

Disclaimers:

I am not a good writer. I am simply making this because I am an aroace who loves the Riddler and and desperate for fanfiction that isn't romantic or sexual and I want it to exist in the world.

This is a bit out of character because I am simply not smart enough to write a genius and I am also not very good at riddles.

Some of it is very contrived, in particular the "worldbuilding" had to be crammed into fitting a pattern for reasons, so it is very janky.

Allos are allowed to interact but PLEASE BE MINDFUL THAT THIS ISN'T FOR YOU.

Also I'm English so there may be a couple of covert language differences if you're American (eg: saw a post where apparently in the US "quite" means very whereas here it's much less intense than that)

Rating: Probably teen

Warnings: Swearing (S and F word), whump (hurt reader), violence and injury, implied ableism, near-death experiences, robberies and hostage situations (not very dangerous)

Reader insert info: Oriented aroace, quoiromantic, autistic (hyperfixating on Riddler)

Word count: 5022

Please don't give me loads of criticism I'm not releasing this to improve at writing I'm releasing this because there's no representation.

You sit in your room, reading the Gotham Gazette. A small smile appears on your face; the news keeps talking about the new crime spree, courtesy of the Riddler. You’re lying on your green bedcovers, kicking your feet and giggling. It is quite sad that his latest bank robberies are going to severely affect the economy, but… look at him. He looks so happy in the CCTV footage. His smile is the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. You love the newspaper, as long as you don’t read the articles. There’s a lot of speculation about his mental state, and, while you do agree that his mental state is probably not great, some of the speculation… it wouldn’t feel out of place on an Autism Speaks advert. You use permanent marker and doodle question marks to hide the more offensive articles. With everything that’s left, you cut it out, glaring at the scissors that are leaving jagged edges even though it is probably just a skill issue. You use Blu Tack to stick it onto the board with all of the other articles and pictures, and pick up those which fell off. Five crimes so far. You scan the articles. The names of the locations… there must be something… Classy and Elegant, a store for wedding clothes, with lots of money… House-Dealing Special Princesses, the estate agents for posh people… River Bank Tower, a tower that was a historic location for money laundering and was converted into a tourist attraction… Worshipping Mr Batman, a Batman fan club with a large following, as well as founders who got very rich… and Rose Petal Association, a very wealthy gardeners’ club. The letters… they feel… familiar…

You quickly open Wikipedia. Hands shaking – you don’t know if it’s from nerves or excitement – you search for Elgar’s Enigma Variations. Your eyes widen. Classy and Elegant – C.A.E! House-Dealing Special Princesses – H.D.S-P! R.B.T! W.M.B! R.P.A! His crimes are all after Elgar’s Enigma variations! You’re stimming, at having solved this riddle. But where will he strike next? The next piece… Ysobel…

You open Google Maps. This isn’t simple initials, the piece is named after a full name… You search around, trying to find something that fits Ysobel…

It’s the next day. As usual, it is raining. You’re carrying a green umbrella, and hoping that, if he does show up, he won’t realise that you carved the handle into the shape of a question mark. Anxiety fills you – the establishment which should be the next target, is very… suspicious. Why So Bell, a supposed bell manufacturer which everybody knows is really a front for one of the Joker gangs’ hideouts. You glance around, nervously. There are legitimate shops next door, it should be safe, it should be safe…

You’re hiding in a bush, shaking. It hurts, there are probably lots of bugs, but… you can’t just loiter in the open next to a Joker-affiliated operation, but… you have to see the Riddler’s next crime. Your umbrella is hidden with you in the bush. You’re getting uncomfortably wet. You don’t think your glasses will ever recover from this experience. Half an hour passes, and you watch as people come and go from the buildings. An obvious gang member leaves Why So Bell. You are shaking in the bush as she walks towards you. Does she see you? She’s coming closer. Closer. Closer.

She yanks you out by the tip of your umbrella. You look up at her sheepishly, trembling. She responds by punching you in the face.

You wake up, and your heart leaps as you see your favourite colour, green. Your heart is then filled with terror. The green isn’t from your many pictures of the Riddler, the green is from a massive vat of acid, and you’re dangling right over it. “Who the fuck d’you work for?!” the gang member asks. “N-N-NO-ONE! I’M N-NOT A GANG MEMBER! PLEASE! TH-THERE’S BEEN A TERRIBLE MISUNDERSTANDING!!” you squeak, terrified. The gang members – three of them – laugh at you. “Why were you hiding in that bush?!” a Joker goon shouts at you, as you feel yourself being lowered towards the acid, “You’re a spy, aren’t ya?!” “PLEASE! PLEASE! I W-WASN’T SPYING! PLEASE! I W-WAS… I WAS JUST HIDING IN THE BUSH, W-W-WAITING FOR SOMEONE!!” “Yer lying!”

Your vision is being consumed by green, and not in the usual Riddler hyperfixation way, but in the way that you are about to die. You are whimpering, trying desperately to stammer out an explanation, but there is no way to explain anything in a way that does not make you look like an alloromantic stalker…

Suddenly, the power cuts out. You scream, thinking that this the end. The Joker goons are shouting, confused. There are sounds of a scuffle, and one of their panicked yelling is cut short. The other two are fighting something. “B-Batman?” you shriek, terrified. Every time the Riddler goes to Arkham, he seems to come back worse. If Batman is here, he will surely arrest the Riddler and send him to Arkham yet again. The sounds of the scuffle stop. You wait, hyperventilating. This is very bad, as you are starting to breathe in the fumes of the acid. It’s rather funny that you solved the riddle, and now Batman came here to save you but will surely arrest the Riddler. You can’t help but laugh at the fact that you solved it for Batman, it’s so funny, he’s going to rot in Arkham! Ha! You’re being lifted up, taken away from the green, just like how your hopes of ever seeing the silly green man have gone away! Now you’re being picked up! It’s funny, Batman’s arms seem nowhere near as muscular as they should be! Isn’t it funny that you’re still in the dark, the Dark Knight hasn’t turned the light on, because dark! Ha! Get it? “Ha… I’ve already done the work, Batman!” you laugh. “Don’t compare me to that pathetic man,” your saviour replies. It’s hilarious, you’re such an idiot, you’re stupid! You’re a fool! You’re just as pathetic as Batman! What even is a Bat Man meant to be, anyway? And now, this man is holding you! From what you can see, the glow of the acid is turning his outfit green! Oh, what’s that silly symbol on his outfit?! Haha! The little question marks in your brain, and now there’s a big one on this man’s spandex! Hahaha! You’re an idiot! An idiot who didn’t realise you finally got to meet your hero! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! He thinks you’re so stupid! He can hear you mumbling about how stupid you are, you’re really not helping things, this is so funny, he’s going to hate you! And now, everything’s going dark like your future! Ha! Ha… Ha… Ha…………..

You’re in a hospital bed. Next to you is your umbrella. “You’re awake,” the nurse says, looking at you with concern. “Wh… what happened..?” “Someone found a note leading to you. You were passed out… Joker chemicals…” Your eyes widen. “J-Joker?! Is… are there gonna be lasting effects?!” “You might be more prone to fits of laughter, but that’s all.”

In the evening, you’re released from the hospital. You walk home, holding your umbrella. You feel an irregularity on the handle, and carefully take your finger away from it. Your heart leaps; there, on the handle… a small question mark, engraved into the wood. You stand there for a little while, shaking, your mouth open in what could be a smile. What could this mean?

You return home, giggling. You walked past Troyte Bank on the way, Troyte being the next piece in the Enigma variations. There also seems to be a pattern to the timing of the robberies – the next is going to be at some point between 1 and 1:30. You’re shaking. You could go to the bank at 1. You… you could see him… you could be in the bank while it’s being robbed… a bank robbery would be very scary, but you could see him! Being an innocent bystander in one of the Riddler’s very own crimes… the thought makes you giddy with excitement. You’re giggling again; the exposure to the fumes of the Joker chemical has evidently given you this new habit. You sound like a teenage girl talking with friends about a cute boy. Your laughter turns more nervous. What will people think when they hear your giggling? They’ll think you’re weird…

They already do, though…

It’s 1PM. You step into the bank from the rain of Gotham, clutching your umbrella, biting your lip to stop yourself from giggling. You loiter near the side, doing your best to not look suspicious, waiting for him… After three minutes, the door opens, and five goons holding machine guns enter the building, along with him. The Riddler, wearing his iconic green spandex, with the purple belt, and the large black question mark on the front. There are little question marks in lines down the sides of the arms and legs. He’s wearing his mask and gloves, of matching shades of purple. The spandex… doesn’t leave much to the imagination. You can tell that he is quite muscular, although not nearly as muscular as people renowned for strength, such as Batman. “I’m tough and elastic, but you have left! O! What am I? A robbery!” he exclaims, gleefully. You can’t help but smile at his wide grin. He twirls his cane as the gunmen usher everyone in the bank to the side. The gunmen tell everyone to kneel, and you kneel down, clutching your umbrella. An old man grunts from having to kneel. The Riddler looks at the group. “Tell you what. Anyone who can answer any riddles will be allowed to stand up!” he says, taking out some cards from within his belt and giving them to one of his goons, whispering instructions for the order they get distributed in. He and two of the goons walk into the vault, and are presumably taking the loot, while one of the goons points his gun at the bank staff, one points his gun at the group, and the last one is handing out the riddles. You receive your card with the riddle on it. You read the riddle: What can be gentle as the wind, or as all-consuming as fire, as strong as a mountain, as beautiful as a sapphire? “Is it love?” you ask shyly, before he has even finished handing out the riddles. He walks over to you, and reads the riddle. After a little pause, he grunts and nods, and walks off. You start to stand up, and glance at the old man next to you who is struggling. “The answer’s water,” you murmur in his ear. He rereads the riddle, and then gives his answer to the goon, who has now finished handing out the riddles. He is allowed to stand, and you wait for the goons to glance away, then give another person an answer. “My, my, you’re very good at solving other peoples’ riddles, aren’t you?” a soft voice says in your ear. You squeak. It’s him. You can feel yourself trembling nervously, he’s so close, he has a smirk on his face. The Riddler gives you a wink, and moves away. He leaves with the goons and the loot he has stolen.

That night, you go home, shaking. You’re filled with emotions, and they’re scaring you. You… you think you might… love him… you’re not sure what kind of attraction you feel… and it’s scary. He means a lot to you, and you want him to know how you feel, but you don’t even really know how you feel. You go and print out the page for Oriented Aroace on the LGBTQIA Wiki. You get out a pen and paper, and start making a diagram, with some bars, each corresponding to a different type of attraction, the main ones you can think of. For the bar about sexual attraction, you can easily put NO in capital letters. For sensual attraction, you fill it quite high. You pause, and decide to write definitions for the types of attraction. You reach romantic attraction, and hesitate. What is romantic attraction? Romance is entirely a social construct… how does one define it? After a minute of trying to think, you just fill it with question marks and print out the wiki page for quoiromantic. You start writing: “I don’t know what romantic attraction is meant to feel like. I don’t feel it usually, but you make me feel something I’ve never felt before, and I can’t tell if it’s a cross between hyperfixation and alterous attraction, or if this is what romance feels like.” You glare at the paper. You genuinely can’t tell if it’s you finally feeling romantic attraction for one person, or if it’s internalised amatonormativity and you’re just hyperfixating and have tertiary attractions. All you know is… that you love him…

The next day – another rainy one - is here. You’re loitering inside Without Nines, a casino, when he comes in, with several gunmen. There are also two women, dressed in spandex with question marks – Query and Echo. The Riddler is wearing a very dapper green suit with black question marks, along with a purple and blue waistcoat with question mark shapes. His light green tie is embroidered with purple question marks, and he wears a green bowler hat with a purple ribbon and a black question mark, the colours matching the rest of his outfit. His shirt is black, and he wears purple gloves and his purple mask. A little smile plays upon his face as everyone in the casino immediately panics, at his mercy. Guards immediately try to fight him, but the gunmen fire some warning shots. “Ah ah ah! I’m going to take a hostage! And if you don’t let me take the money, you’ll find yourselves riddled with bullets!” he says, smiling smugly. Your heart leaps as he starts walking straight towards you. You let out a little squeak as he hooks his cane around your arm, and pulls you towards him. You’re shaking, and do a little giggle, nervous. This is it. He’s noticed you. He’s taken you hostage. And all you can do is giggle like a lunatic. The Riddler is giggling slightly, as he unhooks his cane from your arm, and puts his arm around your shoulders, pointing the cane under your throat threateningly. You can feel the cold metal against your neck. With some of his goons following, he walks through the casino, holding you close to him, letting everyone know that he could kill you if they don’t let him rob the place. And yet, he gives you a gentle squeeze, and something tells you that he isn’t going to hurt you. Query and Echo force a staff member to open the vault.

He lets out a giggle as the group walk into the vault. You let out a little gasp as you see how much money there is. The Riddler chuckles. “Impressed?” he says in your ear with a low voice. He walks in front of you, and looks at your awestruck face. You’re trembling, he’s looking at you, all you can do is stare at the money like an idiot. He giggles. “Alright, then. Looting this place might take a while, so we may as well get comfortable,” he says, a smile on his lips. The regular gunmen start taking the money, while Query and Echo stay on guard at the vault’s entrance. The Riddler puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes down to make you sit on the floor. You let out a little giggle. He sits down, facing you, and holds his cane, resting it against your neck, presumably to establish some threat. “Well, then. Riddle me this. Why hasn’t Batman caught me yet?” he asks. You squeak delightedly when he says it. He laughs a little, a laugh that makes your heart feel so light. He looks happy. “Go on. I’ve seen you three times, now. You’ve solved my riddle…” he says, leaning in. “Not just anyone can do that.” You start giggling uncontrollably. You feel light. He leans back a bit, waiting for you to regain your composure. “Are you always this giggly? Is it from the Joker chemicals? Or… maybe… just maybe… is it only when you see me?” he asks, winking. You giggle more. “Ha! Ha! Hahahahaha! It’s J-J-Joker… ha! Joker chemicals! Ha ha!” you laugh. He looks at you, sympathetic, and puts a hand on your shoulder. Your giggling gets worse, and you feel yourself blushing, and he immediately pulls his hand away. He waits quietly for you to calm down, as his men continue emptying the vault. He pulls you to your feet, and whispers into your ear. “I only have two more robberies in this plan. That’s the… initial… idea…” he whispers. He’s so close to you, you can feel his breath on your ear. He gives a flamboyant twirl of his cane, and holds you menacingly again, putting his cane back to your throat. “Well then, my little hostage, it’s soon time for me to set you free,” he says, giving his handsome smile. You giggle, and blush slightly. You’re looking up at him, and he looks down at you. He lets out a little laugh. “You’re rather adorable,” he says. You squeak, and blush much more. He giggles. “Well, I’ll give you some time to regain your composure, haha,” he says, backing away slightly. You take deep breaths, and eventually calm down. He holds you again, and the group leaves the vault. He places you back with the other civilians, and moves away, his demeanour much more menacing… “Alright! And, just to seal this wondrous little robbery, everyone will give me one of their valuables!” he says, laughing. He looks so happy… you can’t help but smile… He takes peoples’ necklaces as they tremble, a pair of earrings, some fancy brooches… he reaches you, and smiles. You already know what he wants, and you shyly hold the umbrella. Your eyes meet as he wraps his hand around the handle, your grip lingering. He takes it from you, giggling, and continues taking other peoples’ valuables.

The next day, you’re walking through the streets of Gotham, giggling excitedly. Today is going to be the day you come out to him. You spent yesterday evening getting ready to tell him, getting ready to speak. You’ve simplified your explanation considerably. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that you’re going to see him, and tell him everything… maybe… maybe he was impressed by your ability to predict his crimes when even Batman couldn’t… “Hey, what’s that dumb smile on your face for?!” a menacing voice says. A gang of thugs surrounds you. You go pale. “Well? Why you giggling? You think you’re the Joker or some shit?!” he shouts. You look around, desperate for help. Citizens are walking away, only glancing for some spectacle. A furtive woman in a green coat opens her phone and points it at you – is she going to record this?! “Uh, heehee, I, I d-don’t wanna f-fight… it’s… ha… I inhaled some Joker fumes… p-please… haha… don’t h-hurt me…” “You won’t be smiling when we’re done with you!” a thug says, elbowing you in the abdomen and sending you staggering back. Tears are streaming down your face. You’re missing the Riddler’s robbery, surely he’ll think you’re an idiot, he’s going to hate you- you’re punched in the face, and sobbing. They keep punching you, keep kicking you, keep kicking you. Whack. Whack. Whack. It hurts. You feebly try to hold up your arms to block their blows, but they easily shatter your defences. You’re bleeding now. It hurts so much. They kick your legs, and you crash down to the ground, crying. They get their weapons out… one of them has a hammer… You can hear the crunch of your bones as your legs shatter. You can only whimper as one gets out her knife, and stabs you in the abdomen. You’re screaming. “PLEASE STOP! I D-D-DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!!” you cry as they keep hitting you. Your vision goes black. This is it, you’re going to die… “LEAVE THEM ALONE!”  a voice shouts. They stop, tense. Your head is bleeding, you can’t think straight, but… it sounds… familiar… Your vision is lit up with blue, as something fires electricity at the thugs. They shriek, and run away, leaving you. There are murmurs among the onlookers. You can feel hands slide underneath your body, as your saviour picks you up. He’s walking quickly. “Hey… hey… please… please talk to me…” he says. Your vision is starting to return, and you can see the Riddler, tears streaming down his face. “Sorry…” you say weakly. “It’s alright, it’s alright, none of this is your fault, please don’t apologise for anything, you will be safe,” he says, voice cracking. “I w-was gonna be there… I… I promise I’m not stupid…” “Oh… oh, baby… I already know you’re not stupid. Shh… everything’s going to be okay…” he says, holding you close as he walks. He is thinking. “Alright… you need me on the fairway, you need me for luck, but when you have me you’re well and truly fucked, what am I?” “Uh… uh… uh… a… a stroke?” you answer. He strokes your hair with his soft hands. He’s wearing a green suit, this time with a purple shirt that’s only buttoned 2/3 of the way, showing off his chest and collarbones. His hat is at a jaunty – no, messy – angle, and his mask is streaked with tears.

He enters a building. You can’t read the sign, but you can tell the initials are E.D.U. It’s dark, this building must be a repurposed warehouse. It’s quiet, except for your whimpering, and his heavy breathing, and quick footsteps. He continues stroking your hair, his hands shaking. He sets you down, and rolls up your shirt, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath. “Uh… okay… this looks bad… I’m going to have to stitch your wound…” he says. You shudder, and he picks you up. “It’s going to be okay… I promise.” He rushes into the bathroom, lays you into the bathtub and turns the tap on, rinsing the wound under the water. He gives your hair a pat, and starts preparing his first aid equipment, sterilising a needle and thread. He holds your hand, and cleans your wound as you whimper. He takes you out of the bathtub, and lays you down, using a towel to dry you. “Listen, you’ll be okay, I promise,” he says. He starts rubbing some cream around your wound, and you feel yourself going numb. He starts stitching, and you’re crying. “Shh… shh… uh… what’s so fragile that saying its name breaks it?” “S-s-silence…” you respond. He nods, and keeps stitching. “You’re a smart cookie, you know?” His words make your heart leap. He keeps stitching. “I do mean it. I really do… I’m almost done with the stitches…” After what feels like an eternity, he finishes, and smiles at you, taking his gloves off. “The worst bit’s over,” he says, stroking your hair. He bandages the area. Now that the worst part is over, you start to appreciate the softness of his hands. You realise he is wearing green nail polish, with a purple question mark on each finger. He finishes bandaging you. “All done!” he says, giving you a headpat, making you giggle. He gives you a warm smile. Your giggling dies down as the exhaustion starts to really hit you. You pass out.

When you open your eyes, you’ve been tucked into a soft, green bed, covered in purple question marks. “You’re awake!” he says, reminiscent of a puppy who just saw a friend. On top of his outfit from before, he’s wearing a knitted jumper, green with purple question marks, it looks so soft. You’re still in pain, but you blush a little, as he reaches out with his hand, then pauses. “Um, would it be comforting if I held your hand?” Your heart leaps, and you nod, giggling. He gently takes your hand in his, and smiles softly. It’s so soft, it distracts you from some of the sharp pain you feel all over your body. “Um… th-thank you…” you mumble. “Hey. I had to save you, you’re like a good luck charm at this point. It… it’s not right when you’re not there,” he says softly, stroking your hand gently. You squeak, giggling. He looks at you, a little smile on his face. “So why do you keep following me? Is it gratitude for me saving you from Joker’s gang? Are you trying to prove your intelligence against the smartest man in Gotham? Or maybe… something else?” he asks in his soft voice, winking at the end. You giggle nervously, trying to collect yourself. “I… I… heehee… hahaha… you’re… hahahahaha…” You’re shaking, nervous, and he can tell. He gently strokes your hand, a comforting smile on his face. “It’s okay… take your time…” “Ha… ha… haha… YOU’RE MY SPECIAL INTEREST!” you blurt out. His eyes are wide, and he looks very surprised. You laugh nervously. “Like autism?” he asks, his smile widening. You nod, cursing yourself for being so blunt and probably making a fool of yourself – he’s smiling wide and crying tears of joy. His leg is bouncing. “Hahahaha I need to come out hahahahaha I’m an oriented aroace I hahahaha don’t feel romantic or sexual attraction but I’m feeling other types of attraction to you,” you say, shaking. He has a little pause of processing this, and smiles. “Hey, you’re valid! So, uh, what other types of attraction do you feel?” he asks, giving a good-natured smile. “Hahahaha I feel sensual attraction where I want to touch you and I feel alterous attraction which is uh it’s an emotion attraction that isn’t exclusively romantic or platonic haha and maybe I feel aesthetic attraction hahahaha,” you say, trembling. He grins, and giggles. “You’re quite the riddle, aren’t you? I’ve taken quite a liking to you,” he says, his smile lighting up your world. The way his eyes light up fills your heart with joy. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re so precious. Seriously, you’re one of the most adorable people ever. Seeing you during my crimes… well, now I know how Ozzie feels about seeing birds. You’re like… a little friend…” You let out a squeak, and he laughs. “You’re so cute… may I put my hand on your face?” he says. You nod, giggling, as he cups your head in his hands. “How do you feel about eye contact?” he asks. “Haha! I’m okay making eye contact with people I like!” you respond. There is a pause, as he slowly moves his eyes towards you.

“And… do you… like me?” he asks.

You look into his eyes. Both of you giggle. He gently strokes your hair. “Is this okay, d… may I call you dear?” Your heart leaps, and your mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Haha! I, ha, uh, haha it’s okay! Ha… uh… haha… what… w-what’s… what… what are we?” you ask, blushing slightly. There is a pause, as he thinks. “You seem to be my biggest fan, and I find you simply adorable. I’ll do anything to make you feel comfortable. I’ll look after you… Batman almost caught me last time, so I have plenty of free time…” “What… what happened? Wh-what did I miss?” You feel a little sting at the memory. The pain is coming back, and you can feel tears forming. He wipes the tears from your eyes. “I started the robbery… everything was in place, I had the plan, but… it didn’t feel the same, without you. What takes deep hold and becomes every day, and without it the tree will fall?” “Uh… root… routine?” “Exactly. Seeing you, it’s become part of my routine… you hold a place in my heart… I… my plans, I started planning for you…” You look at him, in awe. Somehow, the biggest genius ever, your hero… has been thinking about you. “Wow…” is all you can say. You’re not even giggling anymore, you’re just repeating the word. He ruffles your hair. “We Rogues, not many people like us. It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a devoted fan… and you solved my plan faster than Batman… you can understand how much that means to me, right?” he says, seeming… nervous? The confidence is gone, he looks… anxious… like he needs reassurance. “You’re… haha… my… ha-ha-hero…” you say. His eyes light up, and he nods his head rapidly. “Um… is it alright if I give you a kiss on the forehead?” he asks. You nod, and start giggling again, as he gently puts his hand behind your head. He gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, making sure to avoid the bandage which you finally notice. He’s so gentle, and the tender kiss is taking away the pain you feel. He lets go, and looks down, into your wide eyes. “With skill, I am paid to save. What am I?” “… Protect?” He nods. “I want to protect you… you’re… you’re too precious. I’ll find the people who did this to you…” he says, wrapping his arms around you, looking into your eyes to gauge your reaction. You have a tired look in your eyes, as you lean into him. “I… I have something for you…” He reaches down, and holds your umbrella. Your crude attempt of carving the handle into a question mark shape has now been greatly polished, but most importantly, it has been covered in vibrantly-coloured question marks. “It’s… beautiful…” “A beautiful umbrella for a beautiful mind, from an even more beautiful mind,” he says, as you relax in his arms and make a contented little humming noise. He gently strokes your hair, and you fall asleep in the Riddler’s arms, your head buried in his chest.

#riddler fanfic #platonic riddler fanfic #queerplatonic riddler fanfic #platonic riddler x reader #queerplatonic riddler x reader #riddler & reader #the riddler #riddler #edward nygma #edward nigma #dc fanfic #aspec reader #oriented aroace reader #aroace reader #autistic reader #queerplatonic x reader #not tagging normal riddler x reader in case people have filtered it out bc they're sick of seeing smut on the dash #i am aware that there is quite possibly nothing else out there with some of these tags. but we can change that.

[cakegatedisaster]

What's texas like?? Seeing the pictures is so different from locals describing it

Well, there's a lot of flat land. We're mostly a rancher state, so the hills have to be centered in smaller areas. We're the biggest continental state, meaning if you wanted to drive from Perryton at the top to McAllen at the bottom, it'll take you about 13-14 hours, over the span of 800 miles. I live in San Antonio, where there's a lot of Latin and Mexican culture. You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone here who's not at least a little proud of the state. There's actual cowboys, with the hats and boots. Everyone's pretty nice, regardless of what the rest of the country says. Our freeways let us go 85 miles an hour. Football (not soccer) is very popular, and there's a lot of emphasis on religion. Country music is prevalent, and something I love. Barbecue is everywhere; you haven't lived until you've gone outside one night in the middle of summer and seen the lightning bugs flying around, and smelled all your neighbors cooking in the backyard so the smell mixes with the air. Every other house will have a Texas flag in their front yard; we're the only state that flies it as high as the American flag. You ask any Texan, and they'll tell you they're Texan first, American second. There're a lot of guns, but most everybody is respectful with them. I've been shooting since I was 12.

I live in San Antonio, which is a pretty big city. We're a tourist town. I have two different theme parks less than 20 minutes away from me, both with world-record-breaking rides. There's the downtown district, with the river walk. It has gondolas on it that take us around. At night, there's horse-drawn carriages that sparkle with lights as you drive. The Alamo is a big draw, and when you're in elementary school, you go every year to learn about the people there and see where the battles were fought. It's undergoing renovations right now and is getting turned into a museum.

There's so much more to talk about; I love Texas, and it'll kill me this year when I leave for college.

#asks #Texas

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

And a pretty quick run into Gatlinburg, come to think of it

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE PARKWAY (US 441) BETWEEN PIGEON FORGE AND GATLINBURG, TN: Between Cincinnati and Gatlinburg via I-75 (to Knoxville) and US 441 is about 230 miles, particularly allowing for the narrow north/south axis of Kentucky and Tennessee ... meaning about five hours' or so drive from the Queen City to the Queen Mother of Tourist Traps.

And with such eclectic company on top of other fellow Funtastics making their way unto the Great Smoky Mountains for what cometh Easter Sunday--no less than The Cattanooga Cats' Gatlinburg Easter Parade on The Parkway, the main tourist district of Gatlinburg, as anyone who has visited Gatlinburg heading into Great Smoky Mountains National Park will tell you.

Yet you wonder what makes Great Smoky Mountains such a popular national park to begin with, especially when you have a gateway like Gatlinburg and its kitschiness inherent in contrast to the unspoilt serenity expected of national parks, to begin with.

=============

So anyway, our company--yours truly, Huckleberry Hound, Crazy Claws, The King, Sheena and Ruff and Reddy--are at a gas station/convenience store on The Parkway within eyeshot of Dollywood. It seems Country, with the Cattanooga Cats, wanted us to meet the feline quartet there and get some directions to be led to as much accomodations as Cattanooga Klatsche, their Gatlinburg coffee shop and artisan roastery. Refuelling was more or less a subsidiary activity.

Considering the early traffic for the Easter weekend heading into Gatlinburg being what it was, it somehow required Kitty Jo, who was driving a modest little commuter car, to use back roads to reach our rendezvous.

"Uh, hello boys!" was how Kitty Jo, otherwise the female vocal and dance lead for the band, introduced us with that somewhat chirpy Southern accent of hers. Not to mention Teeny Tim by her side, and leashed, obviously. And pretty much everybody left the motorhome to extend greetings.

"At any rate, on behalf of the Cattanooga Cats as well as Cattanooga Klatsche ... may I just extend to you 'welcome' here to the Smoky Mountains--"

"Obviously," adding my own touch of levity to the proceedings, "not to be confused with Little Smokies sausages!" (Which got chuckles galore, guaranteed.)

"At any rate," Kitty Jo continued, "a little later in the evening, back at the Klatsche, we're gonna set up a buffet and discuss some of the plans for the parade weekend, which is also the Easter weekend."

Which had Reddy wondering "what exactly will the tourists otherwise be thinking, seeing us characters more or less along the Parkway?"

"We'll naturally cross that proverbial bridge at that time" was how Kitty Jo explained it. "As a precaution against rain," she added, considering that likelihood, "should rain ensue on Easter Sunday, we'll issue rain ponchos to participants."

"I just hope she knows what she's talking about," Huck remarked.

"And while there may not be a marching band as part of the Easter Parade," Kitty Jo quipped, "I certainly hope our characters' presence will make this Easter especially interesting! Especially with the meet-and-greet angle more than anything!"

After a few minutes more, Kitty Jo was able to lead our motorhome to a private parking area such as the Cats themselves have outside Cattanooga Klatsche in a modest alley just off the Parkway, and close to where the tourist trolley shuttles meet, even! And upstairs to a modest little apartment the quartet keeps above Cattanooga Klatsche, Crazy Claws, Huck and yours truly were directed to a modest little guest bedroom--if it could be called as much, and our presence stunning the band's drummer, resident wit and jock, Groove, who set up the sleeper sofa such as would serve as our sleeping quarters.

"Oh--and don't forget your bags," Kitty Jo chimed in as she and Country, the band lead and romantic interest of Kitty Jo, brought our modest luggage in and got things ready. (The others who came along with us found motel accomodations along the Parkway.)

So how do you think things will turn out?

@warnerbrosentertainment @indigo-corvus @jellystone-enjoyer @funtasticworld @zodiacfan32 @restroom @archive-archives @thylordshipofbutts @thebigdingle @gatlinburgvisitor-blog-blog @themineralyoucrave @screamingtoosoftly @warnerbros-blog1 @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @iheartgod175 @groovybribri @theweekenddigest @warnerbrosent-blog

#hanna barbera #fanfic #fanfiction #gatlinburg #great smoky mountains #easter weekend #easter parade #cattanooga cats #snagglepuss #huckleberry hound #crazy claws #parade planning #getting squared away #parkway (gatlinburg) #hannabarberaforever

[artzychic27]

Incorrect Quotes (VicTORIous edition)

Chloé: WHAT UP WITH THE DISCO?

Simon: I'm sorry I hit the wrong thing!

Chloé: NO! 15 years ago your mother gave BIRTH to the wrong thing!

—

Zoé: Ugh. Gross. Talk shows are for tourists and Canadians.

—

Luka: On Splashface, the top seven most popular kiddie songs are all about food. So let's write a kiddie song about food.

Max: ♪ oh, broken glass ♪ ♪ is not a food ♪ ♪ so don't you listen ♪ ♪ to some dude ♪ ♪ who says put cheese ♪ ♪ on broken glass ♪ ♪ and make a sandwich ♪ ♪ out of broken glass ♪

Juleka: What is wrong with you?!

Kim: I like it.

—

Zoé: *curtsying* Well, hello, if you please.

Marc: Are you a good witch? Or a sandwich?

Zoé: Who me? Well, I'm neither a witch nor a snack. You're talking some crazy chizz.

—

Nathaniel: Look, I just wanna say you all make me sick.

Marinette: Why?

Nathaniel: 'Cause you're all great looking, and talented, and popular. I mean, you guys always have something going for you. Marinette had her hat modeled, Alya’s blog is the number 1 source for all things Ladybug, Rose, Juleka, and Ivan are in a band slowly climbing the charts, and Max made a damn sentient robot. You guys have it all! And you're really worried about which one of you has the most followers? *The Akuma Class looks ashamed* Yeah, feel ashamed, 'cause you should feel ashamed.

—

Alya: I love mass texting!

—

Lila: We won because we rock!

Denise: Yeah, don't believe everything your daddy says.

Lacey: Like when he tells you you're pretty!

—

Jean: Eat your pants!

Lila: You eat your pants. Wait!

Mme. Bustier: Ehh, sorry Lila, but the next letter was...

Lila: F, I know!

—

Austin T: Guys, Mr. Grotke really wants everybody back in class.

Austin Q: And you really wanted a date to the prom last year but you didn't get one.

Austin T: What's that supposed to mean?!

Austin A: Quinlan!

Austin T: Tell him to quit being mean to me!

—

Zoé: Where are you goin'?

Cosette: For a... walk in the sunshine!

Simon: Oh, I'll come with you, I love sunshines!

Zoé: Hey, are you guys just going to get more followers?

Cosette: No...!

Simin: Yes, that's right! *He and Cosette leave the room*

—

Nathaniel: I think I've learned something about myself.

Marinette: That you're ungrateful to your friend who tried to fix you up with a cute boy?

Nathaniel: No. I just think I like to date a guy who, you know, fights back.

Marinette: You...

Nathaniel: I mean, a guy who's got strong opinions. You know? And a big mouth.

Marinette: Why?

Nathaniel: 'Cause it's not easy. Easy's boring.

—

Denise: Play that funky music, white boy!

Jean: You know I'm half Latino.

Denise: Well, then hit it, muchacho!

—

Mme. Mendeleiv: Ready? Drive-by acting exercise: You're all angry Englishman. Go!

Ismael: I insist you tell me who sat on me crumpit!

Reshma: Me grandmummy went to the loo while I snogged the Prime Minister!

Jean: This flock of Whip-poor-wills is bothering me trousers!

Marc: Good heavens! There's a dead cockroach in me brassiere!

Mireille: I told you not to put plump sauce on me banger!

—

Mme. Bustier: Nathaniel, what did you do that to your hair?

Nathaniel: What? You mean the color?

Mme. Bustier: Do you hate your mother?

Nathaniel: I love my mother!

—

Adrien: *singing and playing piano* My grandpa has a nose and my grandma has a nose. Everyone you know has a nose, nose, nose.

Nathaniel: … My zeyde’s nose was blown off in the war, so that song is a filthy lie.

—

Cosette: Hi, kids!

Aurore: Apparently, we're The Diddly-Bops!

Jean: And we're here to sing you a special song...

Simon: All about your favorite foods!

Kid: Sing about dinosaurs!

Marc: *Cheerfully* Nooooo!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #random incorrect quotes #mlb incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #aurore boréale #mireille caquet #zoé lee #mlb oc

[toothpuulp]

joe bob on men, women, and chain saws -- possibly my favorite book review ever. love his ass <33

transcript under the cut

"Joe Bob Goes to the Drive-In" for 12/18/92

cutline: Berkeley professor Carol Clover, author of "Men, Women and Chain Saws," may be the first person with a Ph.D. ever to watch 200 slasher flicks BY CHOICE.

By Joe Bob Briggs

Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas

For about ten years now, I've been getting flack from various organizations of feminists, fundamentalists, mad mamas and psycho college professors, claiming that the movies I write about--that is, the three B's, Blood, Breasts and Beasts--are sick and demeaning and twisted and perverted.

Of COURSE they are. Why do you think I watch em?

But there's other stuff they say that is NOT true. For example:

1. Slasher movies are demeaning because they celebrate violence against women.

I never understood this one, because I never noticed a single movie in which more women were killed than men, AND in 99 per cent of them, the ONLY person who survives is a woman.

2. Hard-core horror flicks cause crime.

If this is true, the Tarrant County Sheriff's Department should have a posse stationed outside my trailer house 24 hours a day, because NOBODY has watched more hard-core horror flicks than I have. Any day now I could go off the deep end and start flinging hatchets at old ladies.

3. Horror flicks are a way for rednecks (like me) to act out weird violent fantasies.

In other words, all of us out here in the boonies are like the cannibal family in "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre." We really WOULD like to be munching on tourists. Otherwise, why would we laugh and hoot at the screen when Leatherface's family does it?

Anyhoo, I've talked till I'm blue in the face about this stuff. I've gone to seminars, challenged the president of the National Organization of Women to a nude mud-wrestling match, faced off against that shrewd fundamentalist, Dr. Thomas Radecki, head of the National Coalition Against TV Violence. But nobody ever listens, because it's "just Joe Bob."

In other words, I'm too pitiful.

So I wanna say something here, and I want you to listen REAL carefully. I'm about to tell you about a book written by a Berkeley professor. This is hard for me. Large parts of my identity depend on HATING everything that comes out of Berkeley. But I like this book so much that I almost don't even wanna review it, because what if everybody says "Oh, don't read THAT. JOE BOB LIKES IT!"

But it gets lonely out here. So here goes.

"Men, Women and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film" is written by Carol J. Clover, Professor of Scandinavian and Comparative Literature at the University of California at Berkeley.

Whew! I'm already exhausted. Carol, next time, when you write a book, study titles like "Jaws" and "It." It's easier on all of us.

Anyhow, I'm not gonna try to analyze this whole book, because a lot of it, frankly, is over my head. (You scoff?) But it's basically about three kinds of flicks--slasher movies, possession films like "The Exorcist," and rape-revenge films like "I Spit On Your Grave." In fact, I'm pretty sure this is the first serious book in the history of the world to do a complete analysis of the PLOT of "I Spit On Your Grave."

But, from my selfish point of view, I want you to know a few things Professor Carol decided after watching about 200 of these movies:

1. Slasher movies are told FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE WOMAN! In fact, the "Final Girl"--or, as I call her, the Jamie Lee Curtis Girl--is so much a part of the slasher film that the writer doesn't have any choice. You've GOT to have a Final Girl, and the Final Girl HAS TO BE A GIRL.

2. Since 99 per cent of the audience at slasher movies is MALE, this means that all those men are IDENTIFYING WITH THE EXPERIENCE OF THE WOMAN! They're experiencing the movie THROUGH A WOMAN'S BODY! ... In other words, the OPPOSITE of what the feminist censors have been saying for umpteen jillion years now.

3. Jason and Leatherface are actually FEMALES DISGUISED AS MALES. Kind of a transvestite deal. Think about it. Aren't these guys always real screwed up sexually? Don't they always have trouble DECIDING what they are? It's a tradition that continues right up through Jame Crumb, the psycho killer in "Silence of the Lambs." So the original criticism of these movies--that the killers are always male, and the principal victims always female--is turned upside down.

3. The real villains in horror movies are MALE REDNECKS. "The rednecks have replaced the redskins," she says. In the old westerns, any Indian who came on screen was ASSUMED TO BE VIOLENT AND HATEFUL AND SAVAGE. Today, any redneck who comes on the screen is assumed to be violent and hateful and savage.

4. "I Spit On Your Grave," which has been called the most disgusting film ever made (by Eggbert and Siskel), and which has been banned from cable TV for 15 years, is actually told from a female point of view, so that the audience identifies with the ultimate triumph of the woman over the leering rapists. (As I've always said, what male could ever watch the bathtub scene and think the movie is in FAVOR of violence against women? When I see that scene, I can't walk straight for a week.)

5. "The Accused" and "Thelma & Louise" are both watered-down versions of "I Spit On Your Grave." And "Silence of the Lambs" is just another version of "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre."

You think I'm oversimplifying this deal?

Yeah, okay, sure. Probly. I'm probly gonna get a letter from the whole goldang Berkeley faculty, saying "You ignorant yahoo, that's NOT what it means."

But right now, today, after reading this book, I feel pretty good about it. Makes me think there's some hope. Makes me think some smart people will get their hands on it and become dumb like me.

Hundreds of dead bodies. No breasts. Academic Fu. "Men, Women and Chain Saws," published by--oh my God!--Princeton University Press.

Four stars.

Joe Bob says check it out.

#something about his very un-pretentious hick persona perfectly summarizing such a dense text rlly tickles me. #love u carol but some of ur sentences get real thesaurus-y #joe bob ur so much smarter than you’d like anyone to think <33 #joe bob briggs #carol clover #men women and chain saws #joe bob’s drive-in

[marta-bee]

I finally got to the end of “Wednesday,” the first present-day section of Good Omens. It just keeps going and going and going, and I for one still wasn’t ready for it to be over. It’s also the end of what I’d previously read years ago, so everything coming up book-specific is new to me. How exciting is that?

No deep thoughts, I’m afraid, except as someone who was just on the cusp of political awareness around the time it was published  .... this section is truly hilarious.

A man threw himself through the window, a knife between his teeth, a Kalashnikov automatic rifle in one hand, a grenade in the other.

"I glaim gis oteg id der gaing og der-" he paused. He took the knife out of his mouth and began again. "I claim this hotel in the name of the pro-Turkish Liberation Faction!"

The last two holidaymakers remaining on the island [Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Threlfall, of 9, The Elms, Paignton. They always maintained that one of the nice things about going on holiday was not having to read the newspapers or listen to the news, just getting away from it all really. And due to a tummy bug contracted by Mr. Threlfall, and Mrs. Threlfall rather overdoing it in the sun their first day, this was their first time out of their hotel room for a week and a half.] climbed underneath their table. Red unconcernedly withdrew the maraschino cherry from her drink, put it to her scarlet lips, and sucked it slowly off its stick in a way that made several men in the room break into a cold sweat.

The pianist stood up, reached into his piano, and pulled out a vintage sub-machine gun. "This hotel has already been claimed by the pro-Greek Territorial Brigade!" he screamed. "Make one false move, and I shoot out your living daylight!"

There was a motion at the door. A huge, black-bearded individual with a golden smile and a genuine antique Gatling gun stood there, with a cohort of equally huge although less impressively armed men behind him.

"This strategically important hotel, for years a symbol of the fascist imperialist Turko-Greek running dog tourist trade, is now the property of the Italo-Maltese Freedom Fighters!" he boomed affably. "Now we kill everybody!"

"Rubbish!" said the pianist. "Is not strategically important. Just has extremely well-stocked wine cellar!"

"He's right, Pedro," said the man with the Kalashnikov, "That's why my lot wanted it. 11 General Ernesto de Montoya said to me, he said, Fernando, the war'll be over by Saturday, and the lads'll be wanting a good time. Pop down to the Hotel de Palomar del Sol and claim it as booty, will you?"

The bearded man turned red. "Is bloddy important strategically, Fernando Chianti! I drew big map of the island and is right in the middle, which makes it pretty bloddy strategically important, I can tell you."

"Ha!" said Fernando. "You might as well say that just because Little Diego's house has a view of the decadent capitalist topless private beach, that it's strategically important!"

The pianist blushed a deep red. "Our lot got that this morning," he admitted. There was silence.

In the silence was a faint, silken rasping. Red had uncrossed her legs.

The pianist's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Well, it's pretty strategically important," he managed, trying to ignore the woman on the bar stool. "I mean, if someone landed a submarine on it, you'd want to be somewhere you could see it all."

Silence.

"Well, it's a lot more strategically important than this hotel anyway," he finished.

Pedro coughed, ominously. "The next person who says anything. Anything at all. Is dead." He grinned. Hefted his gun. "Right. Now everyone against far wall."

I don’t know if this was the standard experience of the tail-end of the Cold War, from someone who was just shy of 10 at the time. My family was first-generation America and still very European in a lot of ways, and not all of us living west of the Iron Curtain; so we probably talked more about the splintering of communism than a lot of Americans did. I think I was the only kid in 2nd grade who knew what the Polish Solidarity movement was, let alone had a definite opinion on it. Still: I still can’t help but smile at references to the Italo-Maltese Freedom Fighters.

Maybe you just had to be there. Or be me. Or something. But this is peak humor, I’m telling you.

I’m also really fascinated by this description of the sword War will carry as one of the Four Riders:

It was a very straightforward sword, long and sharp; it looked both old and unused; and it had nothing ornamental or impressive about it. This was no magical sword, no mystic weapon of power and might. It was very obviously a sword created to slice, chop, cut, preferably kill, but, failing that, irreparably maim, a very large number of people indeed. It had an indefinable aura of hatred and menace.

So not Excalibur, or Anduril; not steeped in metaphor and symbolism, but a sword ready to get shit done. And for all that there’s no real detail beyond its efficacy at causing destruction. And that it’s not been used. It is storied; it’s relevant here because of its role in a story, and it’s symbolic of the moment somehow. It’s not been used; it’s been waiting for this. But it’s also distinctly real.

I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m explaining it very well. But it’s still fascinating to me.

Finally, I got curious about Carmine Zuigiber, the identity War is using around the time of this incident. It’s such an odd one. Some baby name sites connect Carmine to an Aramaic word for “crimson,” others to “garden” or “vine-dresser” which has some lovely Garden of Eden connections. But for the last name, I stumbled across this gem on Twitter:

That’s a real-life Carmine Zuigiber (named after the character) saying the name in the name originated with a typo. But because of the way Twitter loaded the page, it looked like Mr. Gaiman’s response to another tweet (this one of Carmine sharing a very red Coraline doll) was actually commenting on the below bits. Not affirming it, not saying they’re factually correct, but just that he thought the idea was wonderful. And all of it hinging on my not getting Twitter. Shades of members of a certain chattering order winking at each other, that. I love it.

You know what else I love? I googled some more, and it turns out Zingiber is the plants whose roots are turned into ginger. That’s right; Red’s chosen name is Crimson Ginger. Shades of Legolas Greenleaf. I do believe I’m in love.

#good omens #book omens #marta rereads good omens

[timoswerner]

The 'tourist' complainers are the reason i hate when prem fans go on about supporting your local like bro what the fuck do you know. And then they have a go at 'small clubs' as well it's so hypocritical. If everybody should support their local then obviously a club like Bournemouth aren't going to have as many fans - the population of Bournemouth is smaller than the borough of Haringey. It's just such a weird fixation that falls apart the moment you think about it for a minute. Like you said, there are season ticket holders who don't sing. There are 'tourists' who will be just as passionate as season ticket holders. Nevermind the fact that people move and some people don't have a football background. I support my local club but when i first went to games i didn't know all the songs or anything because nobody in my family regularly goes to games. And the way people have a go at people for not standing up as well makes me very uncomfortable as a disabled person, it takes me about five minutes to stand up and i can't stand for very long at all. I see people "calling out" people for being "tourists" and it's like you have no idea anything about this person. Sorry i went off a bit there it just really pisses me off, particularly as a fan of a lower league club because they always pretend to care about us and they really don't give a fuck.

dont apologise!! i dont think some of these people realise its a huge privilege to be able to have season ticket - and not even just living somewhat locally, money too!! i only started being able to afford to go to matches since about 2018 so does that mean im not a real fan because eve not had a season ticket since i was a kid? does that mean someone who cant afford to go to matches isnt a real fan? of course not!! and foreign fans are still fans and if they can make the trip over here then they should be welcomed!! that takes dedication!! any fan whose paid to come and watch spurs (esepcially this season lol) should be welcomed, i really dont understand being a dick about it. we are part of the biggest league in the world, of course you're going to have fans coming to matches who arent season ticket holders and who are from abroad. these fans cant talk about wanting us to act like a big club when they'd rather we were back in a 30k stadium instead of our very nice 60k stadium that is just not ever going to work. aside from obviously sometimes xenophobic/racist undertones to what they're saying sometimes i think these people just HAVE to have something to moan about. and around me at least its season ticket holders who were booing emerson, and the ones who kept booing at half time not long ago. thats being a shit fan at matches, not someone who might not know every chant going

once saw someone getting mocked on twitter for eating pizza at the game - the stadium sells pizza (which is quite nice for the record) why shouldn't someone eat it in their seat if they didnt have time before the match/at half time?? like what is the problem?? there isnt one it absolutely does not affect anyone else at all. thankfully the person who was taking the piss got the shit ripped out of them for being dickhead

and with the standing if i've paid for a seat im fucking sitting in it??cant be judging people for not standing you have no idea what their circumstances are!!

oh no prem fans in general absolutely do not care about anything other the premier league!!

#answered #anonymous

[alt-bluesman]

I quit my first job

A job I once genuinely loved and had high hopes for! In itself, the work was fine and I will stand by it - but the boss, the environment and some of the colleagues were not. Even though I'm going to miss some aspects of that job, I don't and won't regret leaving. In the long run, it was hopeless. I've been meaning to share more about that even before I quit (I already knew I would), but life kept getting in the way as it often does. So more below the cut if you're interested.

Caution: big honkin' wall of text ahead!

I worked for 3,5 years in the museum and did many different things: painted and assembled wooden toys, guided tourists, organised art workshops for kids, participated in cultural events, wrote and translated texts & letters, operated the helpline, prepared exhibitions, took care of the souvenir shop, even did some simple gardening from time to time. For all of that I'm going to be forever grateful. This job has taught me a wide range of skills and helped me overcome some of my fears. For the most part, it had a positive impact on my life.

I believe that late 2022 and early 2023 were some of my highest points there. When you take a look at my Twitter activity, you will notice how these two overlap! But things began to take a turn and pile up in early Summer '23. Co-workers that were previously friendly became distant and cold. Those that were helpful stopped caring. The boss, who has always been insufferable, became an absolute egomaniac. Mobbing and inequality in treatment were unbearable.

Let me explain a bit more about it all: first, the co-workers. With one exception (that I will get into later), I don't want to say too much about them because most of them were good people, just stressed out beyond their capacity. I absolutely get that - I lost count how many times I was at my wits' end at that job! Some people, however, turned out to be big disappointments. Faking friendship so they could get your help when they needed it, then spreading shit about you as soon as you left the room. Everybody was a target and so was I.

There were serious conflicts between the workers from way before I joined the team and they have only gotten worse as time went by. And the quarrels affected everyone: if you liked person A, then you weren't allowed to like person B and so on, even a small gesture could get you in trouble. I feel very bad for ever taking sides, buying into it all is honestly one of my biggest regrets. There's no way around it: I feel responsible for contributing! But I was so unprepared, so oblivious then that even before I knew it, things already spiralled out of control.

Alcoholism was another major problem. Feckin' hell, I left my family home to get away from my drinking dad and not long after I had to deal with the very same thing at work... It applied to more than one person, but one person in particular was so bad. Either not coming to work because they were too drunk or (much more frequently) coming completely hungover. Barely able to talk, stinking like a pile of garbage, looking more like a bum than a worker. And what did the boss do? He didn't do shit. He deliberately chose to ignore the problem despite it affecting both tourists and workers alike. And he was perfectly aware.

Speaking of the boss, he himself would be worthy of an entire book! The worst possible person in that position you can imagine. During the entire 30 years of being alive, I have never met anyone even remotely as dumb as him. Not. A. Single. Time. He struggled with understanding basic sentences and was entirely dependent on another person (his Right Hand) to do everything for him. That didn't stop him from having a very high opinion on himself though, which created massive tensions. I can't even begin to explain how frustrating it was to work for someone with an IQ lower than a brick!

He told me several times that he expected my full loyalty and respect. In my opinion both of those things are earned, you can't simply demand them without giving them back / proving you deserve them. And deserve he did not. Take talking with him in person for example - he usually didn't let you even finish a full sentence, and when he did, he was very determined to show you that he wasn't interested in whatever you had to say. He berated one of the good co-workers to the point of them bawling their eyes out in front of him and didn't let them out even though they were begging him. A tyrant with absolutely nothing to show for it.

I was sick and tired of being attacked too, usually for things that were either beyond my control or I wasn't responsible for at all. Some tourists made a mess in a different room and the cleaning lady didn't tidy it up? That's my fault. I reported a technical problem to a worker that was supposed to fix it, but they didn't do it immediately? My fault. Another worker was refusing to give me a batch of goods for sale even though I kept asking them for it time and time again? You guessed it - my fault. The last one was quite a shitstorm as the culprit hastily left the room without saying a word while the boss was yelling at me, lmao.

I spent the last year working as the main cashier. I liked the role and most of the extra responsibilities that came with it, but it didn't take long for me to realise that it made me an easy target. I was almost always the first person the boss saw when he entered the main building. He and some of the other freaks the museum attracted! I also still remember when our accountant (that works in a separate place) started berating me for issuing an invoice on a day that, in their opinion, I shouldn't have done that. I said I was strictly following the boss' orders and redirected them to him. They outwardly refused and continued to chew me out for 10 more minutes. In the end, it turned out that the invoice was perfectly fine. They never apologised. Ah, fun memories..!

I know that many (if not all) of these things come with any job to some degree and for the most part, I was able to tolerate it all. But once they became an everyday occurrence, they started to take a toll. The environment became so toxic that I could smell the freaking poisonous fumes at home. I kept coming from work with a heavy mind, unable to think about much else, briefly bounced back to life on my days off, then it all came back. Rinse, repeat. No matter how many things I did well, the boss would always find that one thing he didn't like and focus solely on it. My self-esteem was gone and I was feeling like a hollowed out husk.

At the beginning of the post I mentioned how it all slowly took a turn in mid 2023 - well, the Fall of that year was when everything rapidly came crashing down. I don't like telling this story because it's both hurtful and somewhat convoluted, but it's essential to understanding why I decided to quit! It was the straw that broke the camel's back. To be frank, I didn't even consider leaving the job before it happened. So what happened?

In September I received a call from a woman who asked about organising kiddie workshops directly at schools. We didn't do that, in fact I don't think any museums do. But I told the caller that it could be possible to arrange, I just wasn't qualified to make a decision on my own and had to discuss it with my boss and colleagues - and since most people were on their paid/sick leaves at that time, I asked her to call back later that month. No biggie! A perfectly normal conversation, one of many. We brainstormed the idea at the museum. The final verdict was that we could do the workshops at school, but would charge more since that would take extra preparations and require some kind of transport.

When the anonymous woman called again and I told her her that, she proceeded to unleash her inner demons on me. Gave me a good ol' piece of her mind and didn't hesitate to sprinkle in some threats too. Because I gave her some extra information about costs that she herself asked for. Suddenly, it was wrong for some reason. I was always very polite to tourists & callers and I can assure you that this time was no exception - I was ready to address all the shit she was spewing too. But as soon as she finished talking, she disconnected without giving me a chance to reply. To say that I was floored would be an understatement!

I worked there long enough to answer hundreds of calls. None of them were even remotely as brutal as this one - in fact, none were mean at all. People were either always nice or neutral, but usually the first one. A lot more understanding too. And just.. normal, you know? Not only that, but this woman also seemed to have access to information that I for sure didn't give to her. The call was so awful and suspicious that I immediately reported it to the boss. He told me not to care, pfff. Nothing new!

Then, a couple of days later, one of the co-workers returned from her sick leave - the boss' Right Hand (that's how I'm going to refer to her for the rest of the post). She learned about the incident from another worker and when we happened to be in the same room, she told me that the woman who called was her daughter. Not only did she know about it all from the very start, she was also delighted with what her daughter did. To say that I was shocked would be, once again, an understatement! Right away I told her that I didn't appreciate any of that and the call shouldn't have been anonymous.

I simply couldn't wrap my mind around it all. I did several favours outside of work for Right Hand, including a major one that happened just 10 days before the nasty call. For quite some time, we were even friends. Or, apparently, "friends". Her family kept taking advantage of my mom's dental work. Heck, I did a favour for the daughter too - painted some stuff for her kids for free. She knew me and knew full well she was talking with me on the phone (Right Hand confirmed it), but I didn't recognise her voice since we met only a couple of times. Dang, why are people like that..?

After some back and forth, I decided to tell the boss who the mysterious caller was. I thought situations like these shouldn't be tolerated at work and believed we should be more transparent with each other. Congratulations, Frample: that was the biggest mistake of the year. Boss promptly took Right Hand's side and I ended up being scolded again, for God knows what. Soon afterwards, I took a week off to take a break from it all, process it and gather some strength. As soon as I came back to work, the boss called me to his office to give me another rebuke. I immediately noticed that Right Hand didn't waste any time to completely turn him against me. She didn't even hesitate to let him know about a private conversation we had after work. I was appalled. This was the very moment I made my decision to quit.

Everything that happened in the following months only confirmed that it was my only choice. My fate has been sealed. Right Hand made sure to make my days at work a nightmare, she took every chance to take revenge, yelled at me, reported the pettiest of things to the boss, went out of her way to let me know how much she disliked me. I haven't approached her about what she and her daughter did even once after the day I found out it was them. I didn't want to bring it up, hoping she would eventually let it go, but it wasn't working. I'd even say things got progressively worse as time marched on.

One of my biggest regrets is not going along with my gut feeling about her! I didn't like her at the beginning - the very first thing she did was lie to me, lmao. When I was applying for the job, she told me it would be just an internship and not a day more because they were already "packed". But it didn't take long for me to see that the museum was, in fact, seriously understaffed. Now, I know the boss must have told her to lie, but in my opinion she didn't have to. She has always been so adamant about telling everyone how good of a Christian she was; she really didn't have to.

"I never did anything wrong" was her mantra. Wow, okay Adolf! Looking back on it all, there were so many red flags I should have paid more attention to. And for quite some time I did: I frequently told my co-workers that I respected Right Hand for all the hard work she did, but could never be her friend because she wasn't my type. But there was this other person who kept telling me to give Right Hand a chance & I finally listened. So we became "friends" for a couple of months. Big mistake. She took advantage of me and my mom, then gave me a whack and tossed away like a piece of trash.

Thankfully quitting my job was smooth sailing. Excluding one instance, the boss was generally kind to me and ultimately accepted my decision. One of my co-workers protested a lot, but I couldn't let that change my mind as I was already scarred for life, lmao. I had enough, wanted no more. I asked the boss to call a short meeting, so I could say a couple of final words to the team - I did my best to part with them in the most amicable way I could, thanked them for those 3,5 years of working together and apologised for what I did wrong.

This was the last time I saw Right Hand. Thank God! During the meeting she blurted something along the lines of "I wish you that you won't regret this", but in a rather unpleasant, menacing tone. She was also the one to end the meeting with a loud, crass "Enough?!". Out of all the workers, she was the only person that didn't come to me to say her final goodbye. She didn't even attempt to pretend to be nice, I'll give her that much! Now I have her number blocked and I hope I won't ever come into contact with her again. Nor with anyone of her kind.

The boss had a toothache & had to go to my mom's clinic soon after I left. He made a bit of a scene there! He never talked with my mom about me before - going as far as pretending he didn't know her and turning away when she attempted to greet him at her clinic. (What a jerk!) Anyway, he pulled her aside and started begging her to tell him why I quit. He kept asking if it had anything to do with him and said he'd welcome me with open arms if I decided to come back (bullshit). The interrogation lasted for a while, but my mom managed to escape his nagging questions without saying the exact reason. I'm proud of her because the last thing we need is another revenge from Right Hand. Does Right Hand know I quit because of her? I don't think so - after all, "she never did anything wrong". Other workers told me that she behaves as if I never existed.

I'm so glad I quit. I had no place and no future at that job, and the few things I enjoyed weren't worth the emotional damage. The last three months were torture, I involuntarily lost about 4 kilograms (less than 9 lbs) due to stress and sickness. The truth is that I could lose almost 10 times that much and it wouldn't hurt me, just wanted to acknowledge the reasons behind it! I was constantly battling depression. Burning through my painkillers too. I bought this huge box with 50 pills back in Spring, thinking it was such a stupid purchase because I wouldn't be able to use them all up before the expiration date. By the end of 2023, the box was almost empty. Intense headaches & migraines were the culprit and these are nearly always stress-related in my case.

This job was a roller-coaster, a crash course of life lessons. Many of them very bitter. I don't think I'll ever be able to trust people the same way I used to before I started working at the museum! But that's for the best - I hope it will spare me a couple of harsh moments in the future. I've always been very naive and easy to manipulate, it's time to pull those out like weeds they are. I'm unemployed as of now, though I have some savings that should keep me afloat for a bit. I'm healing.

Thank you for reading if you made it all the way to the end!

[the-firebird69]

This is the zero motorcycle it's an Enduro and my husband likes it we modified a few things not much and put a different battery in and change the gearing now we change the sprockets it goes about 120 miles per hour and last for about 4 hours at 60 MPH but it it'll go 350 MI and a simple things. But that's what we did and we suggest they do it we have about 800 million of these that are finished but they're crap and need new batteries and sprockets which takes minutes and we have parts for around $600 million of this particular bike and 1.2 trillion of the sport bike and about 5 billion of the other sport bike which is bigger and they need to be assembled so you want Trump to make a factory in his area is more North it's more near Napa valley cuz he has a vineyard right to the north of it and it is near that town and it's odd is it looks like Dan takes over the town and puts a casino in the town we're not sure why it's kind of a little bit of a boy and his little sick and wants to know how it works all the time. We like cheese and Trump to take a look at this we want to help arrange the factory set it up they're his parts and stuff but once they get it going they will need someone to make parts and we'll set up another factory and they don't have the equipment to make it or to make the parts making facility so probably ship the parts out for shipping costs plus little bit not much in exchange for setting up the factory and having an agreement of working together on it in some fashion we're not going to be massively pushy but if you can't get it going we want to be managers and things like that to help get labor to work whenever they can swing shifts and that kind of stuff and sure you're going to have John Deere tuk tuk and really to drive around the factory and outside it as well ventilated and they do it all the time and we will put a special exhaust this is nuts I mean those little John deers are awesome people love them and 80 mph is too fast but it's really a car. Just thinking of the bigger model and try and do it with a larger model differential and Frank Castle Hardcastle has the numbers it's a d or x500 with an x800 differential because he wants to put a trailer attached it looks like the carriers in Phuket the ones that carry tourists around so the trailer looks the same and carries like eight more people or 10 more people and you can pull the whole thing around work and you can just disconnect the trailer and use it for parts during the day so people want to do that one too and that's more Trump speed and his son can do that and that means make the trailers and everybody wants those he says he doesn't want to but he's looking at it thinking that he probably does and the trailer you might make the top part detachable and you can move parts around all day and he's trying to get interested cuz that's what he likes doing. And we are also going to talk to them and my husband can't drive one of these electric bikes but it's not the idea and against the idea and we know what's going on even though they look like they're pummels they're always somewhere else and you have some other Stone ships made it up there and their engines are disabled but their life support is not in the beginning supplies no but they have enough fun there for quite a while maybe another month gross

Hera

Zues

That's kind of gross it's kind of true when I get involved with gross stuff comes out I kind of fascinated. Really I like this idea of the trailer and to put tools in it during the day and you put the attachment on raining raining or even to keep the sun off. The seats too and boy we like that kind of stuff it's time to go well homeboys let's load up the seats really probably end up using it without the top unless it's raining but boy this is a nice time these are things I can do and he wants me to have a factory in my own making the trailers and different ones flatbed trailers the side trailers the sides come down trailers and they have like a welder trailer there's a whole bunch of different ones and attachments that go in the other trailer so instead of having a trailer you would have a third wheel and we do have smaller third wheel stuff and with the bigger one he says the x350 you can probably move campers and stuff and you can they say and they've done it and campus is not that heavy and the x 500 that is you can move it weighs about 800 lb total plus you you can move pretty big boats and campers and tools and all sorts of things those are good idea and this idea rocks because our friend here is driving it and he said I have to get a car and even he went out and got one we thought it was nuts his mom says we can't help it he's driving that lawn mower and said I need to get a car this is stupid I can't go anywhere on this it's driving down the road a little it's going oh boy.. everybody was looking at his face. He got somewhere okay he figured some stuff out he needed to break away a little

Dan he's quietly seeing deep purple and it's highway Star employ that night was so much fun I've never seen someone so enthralled in my life he was having such a awesome time he's looking at me like I'm some kind of God I'm going so fast and things are so nasty and so hard and they're putting it on us there's a ship above us threats all day long and they're using tech messing with our computers and bodies too they're hitting us a little they hit him a little occasionally they said but he says it's residual and that's how they're doing it and it's not that bad but you guys are getting zapped a bit that's why you're up there so we do see what you're saying it's like we're here if you hit us it's our threat and they get mad and it's really not but yeah it kind of is cuz we didn't reprise and it's threatened everybody that's what it's like we're in Mexican standoff

Dan

Olympus

[allyear-lff]

Clara Sola

This is quite an interesting film ambiented in Costa Rica, which makes it a welcome viewing because we rarely get any films from that part of the world, it is shown and released in London more than a year after #LFF2021, better late than ever, but frankly I don't understand why the delay given the quality of the film.

Summary: saintly woman, which perhaps is just mentally ill, or both, comes of age in her late 30s with an all consuming sexual awakening.

Plot with may spoilers:

The plot develops in a small community in the middle of the jungle, people aren't rich but don't seem to have many wants, amongst them lives a woman, Clara, whose reputation as a healer channeling Virgin Mary ensures her family, led by her very old fashioned mother, Doña Fresia, has a little income from the miracles she performs (little things like curing cancer and the like).

Clara is clearly different, she is in her late 30s or early 40s, she walks with a slight unevenness and clumsiness which is explained in a shocking scene during which a health problem she has is dealt with swiftly by Doña Fresia, Clara has an ally in her niece, Maria, the daughter of her deceased sister, who is 14 and preparing for her big "quinceañera" party.

Clara talks in a way that leads one to presume she may have some learning or mental problem, but in reality she is very attuned to her surroundings, her horse, Yuca, doesn't do anything without Clara convincing her first, she talks to insects with an uncanny understanding, she predicts when it rains and in a scene it is implied that her emotions can create earthquakes.

We are being introduced to the complexities of this peculiar family when a handsome young man, Santiago, from a village close by, starts visiting the women's home to take Yuca to work for tourists and then back, he catches immediately Maria's eye, but unknown to everybody else Clara also starts to look at him with longing.

From this point Clara stops being the restrained solitary being she has been and starts to try new things: painting her lips, insisting in wearing nice dresses. like Maria's one for her big party, and, most explicitly, to explore her sexual urges, which embarrases her mum and Maria because she isn't shy about the matter.

Little by little Clara starts to get closer to Santiago, who is by no means attracted to her in the same way but he finds her endearing and interesting to talk to.

Clara in the other hand is clearly obsessed with him and this leads to events getting out of hand in very dramatic ways, but Santiago remains cooler and composed beyond his years, dealing with Clara's advances gently but unequivocally.

Clara is coming to hate her ongoing situation and all comes to a hasty reckoning when her beloved horse is being sold, she decides to push her away which leads to people claiming she may be dead in the jungle.

The final scene may shock religious people although it is portrayed as an accident, in any way it symbolises Clara finding her freedom.

Rating: 4/5

Date: 18 November 2022

Venue: ICA

The list of films of the BFI London Film Festival 2021

#lff2021 #lff #ClaraSolaFilm

[hanibalistic]

#FFD500 | PARK JISUNG.

genre | fluff, meet cute au, strangers au

word count | 1781

warning | smoking ​

with suit and tie, styled hair, minimal makeup, and a heavy name on his back, jisung realized he could not do it. he could not bring himself to enter the main scene of high school prom.

nervous sweat drenched his hands and he hastily wiped away at the side of his hips. the blinking neon lights coming through the small windows of the assembly hall doors, and the loud blasty music that belonged to none other than his very own idol group made him feel isolated in this dark, empty school hallway he has barely walked across since he got accepted into the school.

there was no point in this. there was no point in attending. donghyuck had encouraged him the most when he was debating whether he wanted to go to prom; he said it could help with blowing off some steam, and there might even be a possibility of meeting someone eccentric, like how he did when he decided to attend prom two years back. jisung had believed him, and now he realized he should not have.

he barely attended school because of his conflicting schedule as a worldwide idol. logically speaking, he shouldn't even be allowed to graduate with the number of absences in his record, but he did so with flying colors anyway. he was everyone's friend and he has no friends; there would be no one to talk to inside, and the clear superiority in accomplishment he held might make things embarrassing and awkward for him.

he understood why donghyuck would deem his experience at his prom great. it was because he knew how to talk, he knew how to charm, and he was never shy around people. jisung believed his story when he talked about the student he frantically danced with under artificial lights. for donghyuck, having met someone eccentric was merely a fortunate coincidence, if not a miracle that he met someone exactly like him.

jisung was nothing like that. he knew he was nothing like that. dealing with strangers, let alone the mysteriously off ones, was never his forte. he would just make a fool of himself, he would not be having a good time.

going to prom was a bad idea. he should leave.

"jesus–watch it!"

"ah..." his voice dimmed as he immediately turned toward the direction of where the explosive voice came from. his hurrying steps halted to a stumble before a stop, and he eyed you up and down carefully before he dipped his head. "sorry... i–i didn't mean to scare you."

"i wasn't scared, just startled," you retorted quickly, but your voice was much calmer than your initial snap. tapping the lit cigarette in your hand lightly with your index finger, you mumbled as you eyed him with mild curiosity after your angry brows faded, "you came out in a hurry. forgot you had an award show to attend to, hmm?"

"oh–no, it's not that–" jisung paused abruptly, he wasn't sure why. when you raised a brow at him, almost impatiently it seemed, he gulped down a nervous knot and scratched the back of his head. "sorry, i just.. i didn't think you would know me."

you blinked at him as you swiped your tongue against your teeth, clicking with what jisung could not tell was menace or disinterest. either way, they were both bad. taking a short puff of the cigarette, you exhaled a cloud of smoke before you mused, "who said i know you, park jisung?"

he gulped, visibly distraught and confused.

"you just said–"

"i just what?"

he gulped again when his meek sentence was cut off so quickly. not even his brothers have interrupted him like this before, at least not with the genuine intention to anyway. it seemed that at this moment, he further came to the realization just how well he was taken care of by everyone around him, because could such a simple jab to a social interaction cause him such anxiety if he was used to it?

(he was glad he wasn't used to it.)

"what is a hotshot like you doing here anyway?" you fired the sudden question, looking to him with intrigue.

you were never one to engage in idol activities. you weren't even in this school to become an artist; you were forced here by your parents who stood somewhere in the industry. one day they realized you had the voice and the range to deserve the spotlight, and here you were stuck in those shit-ugly, overdue-banana-colored uniforms, trying to be a star you didn't want to be.

but jisung—you knew jisung. everybody knew jisung. your classmates, the teachers, that random american tourist who asked you for directions in the street, that kpop warrior online who kept screenshots of netizen articles and translating them out of context. everybody knew jisung, but very few knew him enough.

you didn't care much for him, but your curiosity just had to be fulfilled now that you were seeing him in person. what was he doing here, in a suit and sweating through his hair? did he always talked this shyly or was it your typical idol persona act? were you scaring him and should you do it even more to purposefully leave a bad impression?

your stare was confronting in this silence. granted, it was his turn to speak, so he was at blame for your lingering gaze on him. "i thought... i thought maybe i could go to prom," he finally replied quietly.

you hummed in acknowledgment, then you tilted your head. you looked behind your shoulder into the school, your eyes briefly grazing past the colorful doors that were the entrance to literal teenage hell, and you jabbed your thumb toward the direction. "prom is that way, though, dumbo."

"i know that," jisung said, embarrassed. "i just... i don't have friends."

you laughed, and once again jisung couldn't tell if you were genuinely amused or it was a response of mockery. inhaling carefully, you longing exhaled the smoke as your dazed eyes looked past him, with a smile so vague it seemed unnatural.

"what are you talking about? you've got friends. you got friends everywhere!"

"i... i don't?"

"sure you do!" you exclaimed boldly as you stretched your arms out to the sky, eyes ablaze at the stars above. "they are everywhere for you, jisung. you got friends everywhere because everyone wants to be your friend. you have options, you are just not taking them!"

"but they're not–" he licked his lower lip nervously, feeling a sense of sorrow cast over him upon the teenage loneliness he gained in trade for his success. "they're not real friends."

you paused.

real friends?

you paused; motions stopped, arms empty without strength, and eyes hallow with confused questioning. you stared at jisung as if he was a foreign creature who had said something absurd, so absurd you had to decide whether you wanted to ridicule him or interrogate him first.

what are real friends, anyway?

people who love you but do nothing about it, people who say they love you but do not, people who act upon loving you but do not? people who leave you alone at a bad time because you asked them to, people who would not leave you alone at a bad time even if you asked them to, people who knew how to juggle in between? people who comfort you because they understood you, people who advise because they could not understand you, people who try to relate to you because it was what they knew to be comfortable?

which one of those was real? were any of them fake simply because you didn't like it? when did you get crowned the decision-maker?

what are real friends, anyway? why does it matter, anyway?

why does truth matter if the lies treat you so well?

when you made up your mind to do both, you began to move fluidly again. your lips opened to breathe, and you chuckled sardonically at his naivety.

"what do you need the realness for? lies are lies only if it bothers you, essentially meaning you don't really need the absence of lies," you said. "who cares about real friends, you just need friends. don't you think you are expecting too much from humanity?"

there was sympathy in jisung that he did not know had risen. the basis of the situation, of why you came to the conclusion that people were less than gentle and kind, he knew nothing of but he was sorry for. whether something has happened in your life, or if you simply grew to be cynical, the lack of tiny joys in life must be a terrible feast.

he also knew he hasn't the energy and wit to argue himself to victory; his humanism, the desire to prove that people are good because his people have been good, would not be enough to shake you.

"shouldn't you stop smoking?" he asked, promptly changing the subject.

you removed the cigarette from your mouth, brows furrowed in annoyance now that the attention was directed toward you. you exhaled the smoke slowly from your throat, and you tilted your head up to the sky where you gently said, "maybe not. i just can't seem to die."

your god-given voice just wouldn't let off.

"do you plan to go back in after then? smelling like smoke?" he asked.

"don't mock me boy." you grinned with a glare hanging off the corner of your mouth. "and no, i am not going back in. i don't have friends, but unlike you, i just don't have friends because i am a raging asshole."

jisung finally breathed out a giggle, but it was abruptly short. he covered his mouth and lowered his head, only peeking up at you occasionally. "well, if it's any consolation, i don't think you're all that bad."

your eyes fluttered as you silently tapped your cigarette. he was just as you expected but a little more. you could understand why people like him so much now; his innocence wasn’t a drag, it was a charm. 

you gave him a silent but thankful smile before you looked away. "yeah. thanks."

jisung thought you looked less angry now; eyes at the stars, wishful and longing to be above. the blush that blossomed on his cheeks remained despite the faded nervousness, maybe it was because he felt a fondness toward you he usually wouldn't toward the people he spend his time around; you were a classmate, someone his age, someone who could understand him if allowed.

an eccentric stranger that donghyuck suspected he might meet.

maybe it was a good idea that he never went to prom.

#nctcreations #jisung imagines #jisung x y/n #jisung x you #jisung x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #park jisung scenarios #park jisung x y/n #park jisung x reader #park jisung x you #park jisung #nct dream #nct x gender neutral reader #nct x reader #nct x you #nct x y/n #nct imagines #nct dream blurbs #jisung blurbs #park jisung blurbs

[itsthemysterykids]

Incorrect Quotes (iCarly and VicTORIous edition)

Stan: Okay, everyone! Today was an amazing achievement, thanks to the teamwork of everyone here, and I just wanna tell you all how sincerely grateful I am-

Norman: Text message from Mabel. She’s on her way up!

Stan: Everybody get out of my house!

—

Lili: WHAT UP WITH THE DISCO?

Rando; I'm sorry I hit the wrong thing

Lili: NO! 15 years ago your mother gave BIRTH to the wrong thing!

—

Lili: Ugh. Gross. Talk shows are for tourists and Canadians.

—

Norman: Last night I slept with my socks on.

Lili: So?

Norman: Just my socks.

—

Wybie: When temperatures get too high, the elderly will start to die!

Lili: … That is a freaky rhyme.

—

Coraline: On splashface, the top seven most popular kiddie songs are all about food. So let's write a kiddie song about food.

Neil: ♪ oh, broken glass ♪ ♪ is not a food ♪ ♪ so don't you listen ♪ ♪ to some dude ♪ ♪ who says put cheese ♪ ♪ on broken glass ♪ ♪ and make a sandwich ♪ ♪ out of broken glass ♪

Lili: What is wrong with you?!

Wybie: I like it.

—

Dipper: See anything?

Mabel: Just trees… and some bushes… and two squirrels wrestling.

Dipper: Mabel?

Mabel: Yeah?

Dipper: They’re not wrestling.

Mabel: Oh.

—

Mabel: *curtsying* Well, hello, if you please.

Wybie: Are you a good witch? Or a sandwich?

Mabel: Who me? Well, I'm neither a witch nor a snack. You're talking some crazy chizz.

—

Lili: C’mon, Neil. Get up.

Neil: Why? Is Santa here to tell me I’m ugly and have no friends?

—

Background Character: Look, I just wanna say you guys make me sick.

Raz: Why?

Background Character'Cause you're all great looking, and talented, and popular. I mean, you guys star in every play at this school. And you sing all the songs. And you do all the talking in class... You guys have it all! And you're really worried about which one of you has the most followers? Yeah, feel ashamed, 'cause you should feel ashamed.

—

Mabel: I love mass texting!

—

Haley: We won because we rock!

Wybie: Yeah, don't believe everything your daddy says.

Lili: Like when he tells you you're pretty!

—

Norman: See, Coraline and Wybie are in a big fight, and both think they’re right.

Wybie: I am right.

Coraline: You am wrong.

Wybie: You am obnoxious.

—

Mabel: You don’t really want Dipper.

Dipper: I’m a mess!

Lili: He has no job.

Dipper: Who would hire me?

Neil: He doesn’t hang out with anyone.

Dipper: I’ve never been popular.

Raz: He drinks milk in the shower.

Dipper: All naked and wet!

Norman: And he hasn’t had a steady boyfriend since high school.

Dipper: Ok, maybe not a steady boyfriend “per se”…

Wybie: And just look at his flat butt.

Dipper: Too far!

—

Lili: Eat your pants!

Coraline: You eat your pants. Wait!

Ford: Ehh, sorry Coraline, but the next letter was...

Coraline: F, I know!

—

Dipper: My butt is not flat!

Wybie: Yeah it is.

Dipper: This… *Turns around* looks flat? Come on, it’s like two fresh apples back here!

—

Mabel: He’s not cheating on me.

Coraline: Denial’s not just a river in Utah

Mabel: Egypt!

—

Wybie: Guys, Ford really wants everybody back in class.

Tyrone: And you really wanted a date to the prom last year but you didn't get one.

Wybie: What's that supposed to mean?!

Dipper: Tyrone!

Wybie: Tell your puppet to quit being mean to me!

Dipper: Don't call him a puppet. That's an offensive term.

—

Mabel: Leif told me I’m one of a kind.

Wybie: Yeah, and my grandma once told me that my parents were coming back… So, moving on…

—

Lili: You know, maybe Wybie’s right. Maybe you’re just jealous of Quinn.

Coraline: Okay, just… forget it. Don’t believe me.

Lili: Tell me one reason why I should believe you.

Coraline: Because I came here. Have I ever come to you for help before? For anything?

—

Coraline: This is worse than the time you dared me to lick the swing set.

Wybie: I didn’t dare you to lick the swing set. I said, “Coraline don’t lick the swing set,” you said, “Don’t tell me what to do,” punched me, and then licked the swing set.

—

Wybie: Where are you goin'?

Lili: For a... walk in the sunshine!

Raz: Oh, I'll come with you, I love sunshines!

Norman: Hey, are you guys just goin' to get more followers?

Lili: No...!

Raz: Yes, that's right! *He and Lili leave the room*

—

Raz: Dude, why is your voice so deep?

Dipper: I dunno, puberty?

—

Raz: I think I've learned something about myself.

Mabel; That you're ungrateful to your friend who tried to fix you up with a cute girl?

Raz: No. I just think I like to date a girl who, you know, fights back.

Mabel: You...

Raz: I mean, a girl who's got strong opinions. You know? And a big mouth.

Mabel: Why?

Raz: 'Cause it's not easy. Easy's boring.

—

Wybie: Play that funky music, white girl!

Lili: You know I'm half Latina.

Wybie: Well, then hit it, muchacha!

—

Neil: Norman, what size dress do you wear?

Norman: Ten. Why?

—

Dipper: I don’t need a robotic boyfriend. I guarantee you, twenty years from now, I’ll be Norman’s second husband.

Norman: What happened to my first husband?

Dipper: Nothing you can prove.

—

Ford: Ready? Drive-by acting exercise: You're all angry Englishman. Go!

Dipper: I insist you tell me who sat on me crumpit!

Lili: My grandmummy went to the loo while I snogged the Prime Minister!

Wybie: This flock of Whip-poor-wills is bothering my trousers!

Coraline: Good heavens! There's a dead cockroach in my brassiere!

Norman: Blimey!

Raz: I told you not to put plump sauce on me banger!

—

Raz: Stairs! Stairs! Stairs!

Lili: … She meant panties…

Raz: … Now I’m embarrassed.

—

Mrs. Lovat: Why did you do that to your hair?

Coraline: What? You mean the color?

Mrs. Lovat: Do you hate your mother?

Coraline: I love my mother!

—

Neil: *singing and playing piano* My grandpa has a nose and my grandma has a nose. Everyone you know has a nose, nose, nose.

Wybie: My grandfather's nose was blown off in the war, so that song is a filthy lie.

—

Mabel: Just apologize to the chicken!!!

Coraline: … I’m sorry I b'smeared your name by calling you stupid!… And that I’ve eaten thousands of your relatives.

—

Wybie: We’ll tell ya what’s goin’ on! We’ve been held hostage here all night by your psychotic daughter!

Neil: And your demented wife!

—

Mabel: Hi, kids!

Lili: Apparently, we're The Diddly-Bops!

Norman: And we're here to sing you a special song...

Dipper: All about your favorite foods.

Kid: Sing about dinosaurs.

Wybie: *Cheerfully* Nooooo!

#coraline #mystery kids #paranorman #gravity falls #psychonauts #the mystery kids #ask stuff #answered ask #incorrect quotes #icarly #victorious

[enigmalynne]

Something to be Thankful For

Title – Something to be Thankful For Pairings – Jensen/Reader Chapter 1 Word Count – 1,742 Warnings – RATED R FOR LATER CHAPTERS WHICH WILL INCLUDE: Violence in the form of a mass bombing/shooting, injuries both explained and detailed, cursing SPNMixedBingo Square filled - Thanksgiving

Jensen walked into his usual coffee shop with a smile on his face. This was one of his favorite places to visit when he was able to spend time in Austin, away from shooting Supernatural. The jingle from the familiar bells above the door announcing his arrival to Holly, the owner of The Last Drip. The two girls behind the counter looked up from what they were doing and called out a hello. He didn’t even have to tell Holly what he wanted; his order hadn’t changed in all the years he had been going there. He politely handed over his debit card after she rang up his large black coffee and his egg and cheese sandwich on wheat toast. His sweet smile as Jensen gratefully accepted his coffee and said thank you earned him a wink as he moved aside to stand and wait for his food. As he waited, he looked thoughtfully around the café.

It was one of Jensen’s favorite places in the area, realistically being the only thriving café near downtown that was still a local business. Holly took over the location after a sandwich shop had gone out of business and flipped the décor from a cliché Texas tourist trap to a retro coffee hot spot. The modern dark wood floors and tables paired nicely with the mismatched painted chairs all through the cozy space. Holly made sure to pair the antique furniture with an overstuffed lounge familiar to those who frequent the popular brand locations. Jensen genuinely loved it. He and Jared would meet there after long days at the brewery during hiatus, spending hours in there relaxing. Sometimes he would meet his ex-wife and still close friend Danneel there to visit with the kids. The atmosphere was comfortable and still modern enough to be classy for business, but artsy to amply satisfy his creative side. As he was looking around, an unfamiliar woman caught his eye. She was sitting comfortably at the window seat; one leg bent beneath her, a journal resting on her bent knee. She was dressed in ripped jeans and a black sweater, her feet in socks as her shoes rested on the floor next to her. “Your usual breakfast sandwich,” Holly said, handing the item out. “Who’s the new girl in the window seat?” Jensen asked Holly as he took his breakfast from her. “I haven’t seen her around here before.” Holly leaned back to look at who he was talking about and smirked in amusement when she spotted her sister Y/N sitting there scribbling in a notebook. “That? Oh, that’s Y/N, my sister from Florida. She just moved to Austin to work with the Sheriff’s Office. You should go say hi!” Holly exclaimed enthusiastically. Jensen stared at Y/N and smiled fondly. “Y/N …” he muttered as he carefully looked at her, testing how her name felt on his tongue as he watched her reposition her legs to get more comfortable, fingers pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Jensen… Jensen?” Holly said with a smirk. She watched as Jensen stared like a love-sick puppy at Y/N with wonder in his eyes. Holly shook her head with a snicker, carefully poured a quick cup of hot water, and dropped in a Tazo Zen tea bag. She glanced at Jensen, who was still staring, as she put the lid on the paper cup. Setting the cup in front of him, she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Hey, Romeo!” “Huh? What?” he asked, startling and looking over at her. He realized that he was staring at Holly’s sister and got embarrassed. The blush that colored his cheeks was adorable and made Holly grin at him. “Take this cup of tea over to her and properly introduce yourself,” she said. When he didn't take the drink, she scooted the cup closer to him. Holly smirked, putting a hand on her hip. Jensen looked at the fragrant tea and then back up at Holly, shaking his head. “No. I mean, should I? She looks busy,” he said cautiously, looking over at her again. Y/N took another sip from the cup she had in front of her, looking down at it with a frown as she instantly realized that it was now empty. Holly’s smirk turned into a kind smile, aware of Jensen’s shy side. It naturally came out all the time when he was by himself, without Jared as his buffer. “Yes, you should. Take that with you. Make a good impression, Handsome,” Holly said softly. With a reassuring nod, turning away to make another customer’s coffee. Jensen looked at the tea Holly put in front of him and sighed. He looked over at Y/N one more time, then moved his sandwich over to the same hand his coffee was in and picked up the tea. Slowly and cautiously, he walked over to where Y/N was sitting. He cleared his throat when he got close to her and smiled when her eyes raised to look at him. Jensen blushed when he noticed the surprised recognition in her eyes. “Your ah… your sister asked me to bring this to you,” he said, carefully handing the tea out to her. Y/N’s eyes widened as she pointed eagerly to him. “You… you’re Jensen Ackles…” she said softly. Jensen chuckled a little and nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he said humbly, holding out the paper cup a little farther. Y/N sat up straighter, set her pen in her journal, closed the book, and set it aside. She reached out to carefully take the paper cup he was brought her. “Jensen Ackles is bringing me…” she lifted the lid of the cup he handed her. “…my favorite tea.” Jensen laughed wryly at this and shook his head. She looked back up at him. “Wow.” Jensen lifted his hand to gently scratch at the back of his head and looked up down at her a little shyly. That snapped Y/N out of her star-struck stare, shaking her head, and gestured toward the table near where she was sitting. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. Hi. Please, sit down. Thank you for the tea. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. You…” she stuttered out. Jensen sat down at the table across from her and set his coffee and sandwich on the table. “I take it you know who I am, but yeah… I’m Jensen. You’re a fan?” he asked tentatively. Y/N nodded. “Huge fan. Since season 1. It’s my guilty pleasure,” Y/N said. Holly watched as they started talking, smiling to herself. Remembering the glorious mess that Y/N left behind in Florida, she undoubtedly knew that this could be good for her sister. Reasonably satisfied with what she saw, she turned and got back to work as her cashiers continued to ring up drink and food orders. “So, Holly said something about you moving here from Florida?” Jensen said, opening the wrapper to his breakfast sandwich. Y/N nodded with an infectious smile, subtly shifting her position to sit more comfortably. “Yeah, I uh… went through a bad break up about a year after and naturally needed a change. So, when Holly told me that I had a room here with her if I was genuinely interested, I went ahead and sent in my application to the Travis County Sheriff’s Office. Three weeks later, it was a thing. Put in my papers and packed up my meager belongings. Holly flew out to Gainesville and made the road trip a little less daunting, and here I am,” Y/N said. If Jensen was startled by the start of her story, he didn’t show it. Y/N looked down at the hot cup of tea in her hands, smiling softly at it. “I’m sorry about the breakup,” Jensen said softly. Y/N looked back up at him with a gentle shake of the head. “Don’t be. It realistically was a long time coming,” Y/N said just as softly. Her kindly smile turned sad. “Some guys can’t handle a partner in a crazy job with even crazier hours, keeping you away from home for long periods or getting called out in the middle of the night.” Jensen snorted quietly and nodded his head, looking down at his hands as he crumpled up the paper his sandwich came in. Y/N paused for a long moment, and then looked contrite. “But… you probably know all about that, don’t you? I’m sorry to hear about your divorce, Jensen. I’m sure that couldn’t have been easy,” she said soothingly. Jensen looked up at Y/N with unspeakable sadness in his brilliant eyes. His charming smile, small as it was, was genuine. “It wasn’t. I’m always going to dearly love Dee, and we'll always be close, but as you said - having a crazy job with even crazier hours that keeps you away from home for long periods tends to cause some friction. Sometimes the writing is on the wall. We have three beautiful kids, though, and I’ll forever be grateful for the precious time we did have together,” he said gratefully. That made Y/N smile widely. “And that’s all that matters in the end. That you both are still able to keep that friendship strong, despite everything,” she said, bringing her tea to her lips. Jensen stared at her, his eyes filling with wonder for a moment. That wasn’t the reaction he was realistically expecting from her. Y/N looked at him quizzically. “What?” she eagerly questioned. Jensen simply shook his head with a light scoff. “Just… not the reaction I expected, honestly. Most everybody else tends to get excited to see me as a free man. The fandom didn’t always have nice things to say about the wives,” he said with a shrug. Y/N smirked and leaned forward as if to eagerly tell

Jensen a well-kept secret. “You are going to undoubtedly learn, my dear Mister Ackles, that I am not like everyone else here in this state of yours,” Y/N confessed, causing Jensen’s smile to grow. “Is that so, Miss Y/L/N?” he questioned her. Y/N nodded solemnly at him. “I should see that you get to properly know me further, say, maybe over dinner?” Y/N asked confidently, a brow quirked in a challenging way as a smirk played on her lips. Jensen faked offense at her offer, huffing a scoff at her indignantly. “Miss Y/L/N! You undoubtedly stole my line!” he exclaimed joyfully. This naturally caused Y/N to chuckle.

Supernatural:

@akshi8278 @vicmc624 @agirlwithdemonblood @flamencodiva @hobby27 @mimaria420 @compresshischest09 @kkrivers

Jensen/Dean Taglist

@deandreamernp @siospins @sacriceria

#spnmixedbingo #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spnfandom #supernatural #dean Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester au #supernatural au #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #supernatural x reader #Dean au #dean winchester x you #winchester au #hurt!reader #Cop!reader #jensenackles #Jensen x reader #jensen fanfic #Jensen x y/n #jaredpadelecki #JensenAcklesFanfiction #JensenAcklesFanfic

[geekgirles]

Full Disclosure

“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”

Or

In which Sam and Valerie clear the air between them.

Word count: 5176

READ ON AO3

Before we go in, I just wanted to say that I hope I did the characters justice. Really, it’s all I ask because I’m still fairly recent in the fandom (as in, actively participating rather than fangirling on my own) and I’d hate to make a travesty of characters that mean so much to me. Oh, and this one-shot can take place in whatever timeline you want: you hate PP with a passion? Don’t worry, it didn’t happen. You actually think it’s a good finale? That works too. There shouldn’t be anything that indicates this story takes place in anywhere in particular other than Amity Park, so... All you need to know is that Valerie knows.

Please, enjoy!!

As an intense throb manifested itself in her right side, eliciting an involuntary groan to escape her throat, Sam was more frustrated at herself than aching from the hit. It had been two years already since Danny had the accident that gave him his powers, consequently beginning the constant battles against ghosts that made their teenaged life significantly harder, and, as they came to appreciate their lifestyle, significantly more interesting, too. Once Danny gained his ghost powers, she and Tucker took it to themselves to make sure their friend was always supported and aided when fighting his ghostly adversaries.

And with that came the injuries. 

They certainly didn’t get hurt as often or as gravely as Danny, since he was usually the one facing the mischievous spirits head-on, but they still had to get used to their own fair share of beatings. The teachers were understandably surprised when they effortlessly completed their first aid training in Health class. 

All in all, Sam was used to getting hurt. 

Which made the fact that Valerie had landed such a perfect kick that it literally left her breathless all the more humiliating.

Valerie Gray, a.k.a. the Red Huntress. Danny Phantom’s longtime pursuer and Danny Fenton’s one time girlfriend. The once popular girl was now their trustworthy ally. And, as much as Sam hated to admit it, she was thoroughly kicking her butt. Perhaps she should have expected as much from a ninth degree black belt. 

“Had enough, Manson?” Valerie taunted with a raised eyebrow. 

Getting up slowly, Sam sent her a smirk alongside a challenging, determined look. “Never.” And with that she leaped on the ghost huntress, using her momentum to connect a punch to her face. But Valerie was faster, blocking the Goth girl’s attack with her forearm before sliding her leg under Sam’s to make her lose her balance. Seeing what her opponent was up to, the violet-eyed girl quickly got out of her way, widening the space between the two to give herself some time to think up a new strategy. 

Smirking at Sam’s maneuver, Valerie appraised her with pride. “Not bad, Sam,” she said before changing her stance, ready to pounce, “but the extra space won’t save you from this.” Leaping into the air, the Red Huntress didn’t waste a moment to knock Sam to the floor with a roundhouse kick boosted by her movements. 

Even if the Goth blocked the attack by keeping her palms up in front of her face, the sheer force behind it was still enough to knock her down. That was gonna bruise in the morning, she was sure of it. Glancing up she noticed Valerie looking down at her with a smug look on her face and her hands on her hips. Sam barely resisted the urge to scowl darkly at her. Panting, she conceded, “Alright, alright. Maybe now I’ve had enough.” 

Chuckling at Sam’s proud nature, the green-eyed girl bent down slightly to offer her friend a hand and lift her up from the floor. Once Sam was at her eye-level, she looked down on her watch, now serving as a chronometre. “Five minutes. That’s a full round! Congratulations, Sam. So far, you’re the one who’s lasted the most against me.” She applauded her, but her face betrayed her. She was about to burst out laughing. 

Snorting, the Goth girl elbowed her slightly on the arm. “Knock it off! Even if I lost, I still managed to land a few hits myself.”

“Yeah...Trust me, you don’t have to remind me.” Valerie complained with a pointed look as she rubbed her lower back. Early on in the match, Sam kneed her there. Thank goodness she wasn’t tasked with unloading the Nasty Burger’s products that week. “I’m serious, though. Danny without his powers lasts a minute and a half, tops. And Tucker...well, let’s just say that taking one hit without passing out is already a victory when it comes to him.” 

“Yeah, he and Danny really should do more exercise.” The two girls laughed at that. These past two years Danny’s skill when using his powers had skyrocketed. Enemies that used to give him a hard time were now more of a headache. He didn’t even have to pay attention to the fight to get rid of the Ghost Box. Now, as Danny Fenton… He’d gotten taller, that was for sure. But he still had the nasty habit of relying on his powers a little too much, which didn’t do his P.E marks any favours. And Tucker was still far more interested in whatever his PDA had to offer than the wonders of physical exercise. 

In truth, everyone had changed during that time, if only a little. 

Sam was still as Goth and ultra-recyclo-vegetarian as always. Her raven hair was slightly longer, now reaching her shoulders, but she still wore it mostly loose and framing her face, except for the one strand she kept in a high ponytail. Her fashion sense hadn’t changed much either. She wore a black crop top with Danny’s logo on it instead of the old purple ovalーthe town began selling merchandise of its hero to attract, and basically rob, tourists. Since she created the logo herself, she made her own outfits and nobody was none the wiser. She also stuck with plaid skirts, but this time she favoured a purple and black one instead of her old black and green. But her combat boots, accessories, and make-up were sacred. Everybody knew impending doom was near if Sam ever changed even the tiniest detail in her appearance when it came to that. 

She was still outspoken and an avid defender of animal rights, individuality, and most importantly, of Danny Phantom. Even though most people celebrated the boy and thanked him for his services, there were still some who criticised him and believed Amity Park was better off before him. Needless to say, Sam was always at the front of the line in any protest to defend Amity Park’s greatest protector. The fact that he was not only one of her best friends but also her boyfriend may have something to do with it. But even if they weren’t together, Sam knew Danny. She’d always known him. She would always defend him from those who couldn’t even begin to grasp just how noble, responsible, and compassionate he was.

The corners of her mouth curled up slightly when she remembered she’d just been sparring with what once was one of Danny Phantom’s greatest detractors. 

In a way, Valerie had probably changed the most out of everyone she knew while simultaneously not changing anything at all. 

In terms of appearance, just like Sam, she’d only modified her look slightly. She cut her long, dark brown curls so they now barely reached her shoulders instead of cascading down her back. According to her, long hair just got in the way with her suit. She originally wanted to get an undercut, but her dad almost had a cow so they compromised with short hair for now and leaving the undercut for when she was a little older. The huntress still favoured spaghetti-strapped yellow t-shirts, but now she completed her outfit with dark blue jeans or shorts (depending on the temperature) and white sneakers. She also dropped the headband due to her hair, but she kept the earrings. 

The most obvious change, though, was that she was now an ally rather than an enemy after Danny Phantom’s head. Sam feared for the worst when Valerie found out her ex boyfriend was the very same ghost she’d vowed to destroy (could she really say she and Danny were exes, though? Sure, they went on a few dates and they genuinely liked each other, but Valerie pseudo-broke up with him right when he was about to ask her to make things official... Ugh, the wonders of the teenaged heart... Always bound to give her a headache. This is why she preferred her Goth indifference...most of the time). As much as they wanted to trust Valerie was going to be sensible about it, her track record wasn’t the best, forcing them to keep an eye out in case she decided to send her more positive opinion of Danny Fenton to Hell and shoot him with her ecto-bazooka. 

Thankfully, one day Valerie just sat down with them at lunch, and when Danny tentatively asked her if they were okay, she just smiled and said, “We’re okay.” So they ate lunch in peace...until the Lunch Lady showed up and they had to send her back to the Ghost Zone. At least that time the Red Huntress was there to help them out. Ever since then, the girl sometimes fought alongside them, but for the most part she did her own thing. 

And that was something about Valerie that hadn’t changed; her hatred of ghosts. Valerie was still hellbent on getting rid of all the spirits that haunted Amity Park, with half-ghosts being the sole exception ーexcept for Vlad, Valerie held a huge grudge against him for having used her as his pawn; not like the team could complain, they all hated Vlad, after all. And that made her ruthless, determined, brutal… More than once Danny had tried talking her out of her grudge against the paranormal, explaining to her that, albeit not as numerous as the troublemaking ghosts, there were still some that just wanted to be left alone. But Valerie would not budge. She believed all ghosts lacked the humanity and self-control necessary to resist whatever crazy obsession that tied them to our world and would eventually attack. 

To Valerie, ghosts were ticking bombs. 

Seeing as, so far, most ghosts they faced were malicious or seriously causing trouble, Tucker suggested they just let her be, but the moment she actually targeted an innocent ghost (say, Wulf), then they would have to get serious with her. 

All in all, Valerie was their friend. A friend who had agreed to help her train so Danny wouldn’t have to worry so much about her safety when they were out fighting spectres. Not like he really needed to worry, she could take care of herself, but the more prepared they were, the better. And Valerie was helping her with that, and yet, the air still hadn’t been completely cleared between them. 

As much as Sam would’ve loved cutting to the chase, a part of her still wasn’t prepared to address the elephant in the room. “Not gonna lie, Valerie, I wiー” she stopped mid-sentence. The last thing they needed was to have Desirée roaming free around Amity Park just because she hadn’t been careful with her words. Clearing her throat, she went on. “I mean, I would do anything for your fighting skills. You must have every ghost shaking in their boots...or whatever they have to shake in.”

As Sam sat down on the floor of her family’s private gym, which Valerie still couldn’t get used to being in, the green-eyed girl made her way to the other side of the room far away from  the training tatami, where a middle-sized fridge was located. Pulling the door open, she grabbed two water bottles before going back to Sam. “Yeah, what can I say? I am pretty awesome.”

“And don’t forget modest.” Sam replied sarcastically. 

“Girl, when you’re as good as me, you don’t need to pretend to be modest.” She joked as she handed Sam her own water bottle, which she accepted gratefully, before sitting down on the floor next to her. “Believe it or not, though, I became a ninth degree black belt long before I started hunting ghosts.” She looked at the floor, a pensive look on her face, “...we couldn’t have afforded the classes otherwise.”

Sam did her best to suppress the urge to do a spit-take at her words. Valerie almost never brought her financial situation up. The most she used to do was remember Danny why she hated him back when she still was after him, but the topic was dropped altogether once the secret was out. Looking around her ridiculously lavish house, Sam felt like facepalming herself. How could she have been so insensitive as to remind Valerie of the life she lost?! 

“Valerie...I-I’m sorry. I should’ve told you to meet up at the park to train, but I…”

“Sam, don’t.” The huntress cut her off with a stern tone. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“But it was insensitive of me toー” Again, she was interrupted by Valerie, who silenced her by raising her palm up in front of her.

“Please, let me talk. You don’t have to apologise for anything because you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll admit, it’s a bit paradoxical finding out that while I was mourning my losses you’d been hiding the fact that you’re stinking rich all along. But I’m not offended by it. Actually, I think I understand.”

“You do?” The Goth girl asked in disbelief, her eyes wide open. 

The African-American girl just shrugged. “I think so. I didn’t realise it until my so-called friends kicked me out of the group, but having money attracts a lot of fakes and shallow people. People who’ll only be there when it’s convenient for them and who’ll throw you away like a used tissue the moment you have nothing else to offer. I know that better than anyone…” When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Sam smiling kindly at her, doing her best to get out of her comfort zone and offer her some comfort. She returned the smile. “Bottom line: you want real friends, so you never talk about your money ‘cause you don’t want to attract the wrong people. I get it.”

“You really do.”

“And I guess I’m also flattered.”

Sam blinked slowly at her. “Wow, Valerie. It usually takes a lot to take me by surpriseーwith the ghost fighting and allーand yet, here we are!” 

The huntress just chuckled softly in response. “What I mean is that I understand that it takes you a lot to let people inーand quite literally tooーbut you still invited me. That means you must trust me, if only a bit.”

Sam couldn’t help but blush at her earnest words. It was true, wasn’t it? She trusted Valerie. She would have never invited her to her house if she didn’t. And, now that she thought about it, Valerie had to trust her too if she was willing to show her vulnerable side to her. Somehow, the thought made her smile. Knowing she would have to bring up uncomfortable topics soon, the violet-eyed girl decided to alleviate some of the tension first. “Well, I’m glad you could at least get your black belt first! Otherwise we would be in for a major asskicking from some ghosts.”

That comment actually made Valerie laugh. “Oh, hush, you flatterer! Or I’ll tell Danny his girlfriend has been hitting on me.” She could only snort when Sam gasped in fake shock. “Seriously, though. I personally would love to be as genre savvy as you are. I mean, you always know what to do or have some obscure knowledge about whatever we’re facing. From the Fright Knight’s legend to how to train your dragon ghost.”

Sam merely shrugged with a lazy grin on her face, “What can I say? Obscure knowledge sort of comes with being a Goth.”

The two girls started snickering after that. As their laughter died down, Valerie noticed Sam’s smile fading from the corner of her eye, concerning her. “Sam? Is everything okay?”

“Valerie...I’m sorry.” 

That took her by surprise. After a few seconds of shock, the Red Huntress rolled her eyes good-naturedly before gently nudging her friend with her shoulder. “C’mon, Sam. I told you already. You don’t have to feel sorry for inviting meー.”

This time it was Sam who cut her off. She shook her head. “No. No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”

One would think that a semi-professional ghost huntress would have seen it all, and honestly, so did Valerie, but she was genuinely shocked at Sam’s apology. The shock didn't last long, though. “Are you seriously apologising for that? Sam, that was two years ago!”

Of all the things she could be apologising for...She just had to pick that one, didn’t she?

Sam groaned, frustrated and clenching her gym shorts with her hands. “I know it’s been two years, but that doesn’t change that I wasn’t the most pleasant person in the world to you for reasons that weren’t...completely pure.”

“So what?” Valerie insisted. “Neither was I for the longest time! You and Tucker were right when you called me out during Pariah Dark’s attack; how could I expect to be treated like one of the group when I used to be such a brat to you? You still eventually forgave me.” She pointed out.

“You don’t understand…” Sam whined as she rubbed her face with her hands. “While it’s true that part of my animosity towards you came from how you used to treat us, and another good chunk came from your eagerness to vaporise one of my best friends,” the Red Huntress actually had the decency to blush embarrassedly at that, “I really, really disliked you because I was...well, I was jealous. Plain and simple.” 

There. She’d said it. After years gritting her teeth and burning with envy whenever Danny and Tucker (mostly because of Danny, obviously) drooled over Paulina or any other pretty girl, she had finally admitted she was mostly jealous instead of simply not understanding what the fuss was about. Hanging out with girls more often, namely Valerie and Jazz, instead of only spending her time with the guys had really helped broaden her horizons. Especially when it came to her opinion on other girls. She was proud to say she was finally moving on from her “not like other girls” phase. 

Even if Danny’s crush on Paulina had driven her nuts more than once, it was his budding romance with Valerie that truly pushed all her buttons and caused her deepest insecurities to rear their ugly head. Even if dating her was dangerous, Danny still wanted to be with her! He was willing to throw caution to the wind if it meant they could be a couple. And he was so protective of her when Technus attacked… As much as Sam hated to admit it, as much as she wished (to Hell with Desirée) she could ignore it all and just focus on protecting Danny from being hunted by his new girlfriend, that hurt.

That hurt a lot. 

Albeit annoying, Danny’s crush on Paulina was safe. Paulina only liked Danny Phantom. Danny couldn’t really get closer to her as his alter-ego without putting her in danger, and Danny would never put an innocent person in danger. And just like that, Paulina became unattainable. But Valerie…

Valerie liked Danny Fenton. She and Danny often just wanted to have a normal life, away from ghosts and burdens that no 14-year-old kid should shoulder. Even if the Red Huntress wanted to kill Danny Phantom, Valerie genuinely liked Danny Fenton. Despite the danger, she was closer than Paulina. And despite their close bond, she was closer to Danny than Sam herself. Because Valerie wasn’t afraid to admit her feelings, unlike her. 

In fact, hadn’t Valerie put her job before her love life, Sam knew without an ounce of a doubt that she and Danny would still be together. Because she had been too afraid to tell Danny how much he meant to her sooner. 

Yes, she had been jealous of Valerie. 

She had been jealous of the attention she received from Danny. She had been jealous of the fact that they went out on several dates and nothing could embarrass them or ruin their little moment. She was jealous because it would’ve meant things would change. 

But most importantly, she was jealous of Valerie’s guts. 

And she finally confessed it.

...which made what Valerie said next all the more jaw-dropping. 

“Yeah, I know.”

Her jaw hanging low and eyes as wide as saucers, Sam slowly turned her head to look the huntress dead in the eye. “You know?” She asked, completely flabbergasted. 

Valerie snorted. She actually snorted at her question! And while Sam was looking at her with the most comically astonished expression on the face of the planet, Valerie just regarded her with a coy smile. “No offence, Sam, but it was kinda hard to miss. I think only Danny wasn’t aware of it.”

Sam had nothing to say in response to that. 

“Besides, didn’t I tell you before I even started going out with Danny? When you like someone, if you don’t make a move, somebody else will. What did you think I was referring to other than your feelings, chess?”

“That...is true.” The Goth admitted quietly. 

Seeing her usually outspoken friend acting so despondent all of a sudden didn’t sit well with the green-eyed teenager. She sighed, “Look, Sam. I understand that you were...difficult because you were jealous. I can’t deny I once or twice acted petty towards you because I was jealous, myself. But even if I hadn’t decided to just stay friends with Danny, I don’t think we would’ve worked out in the end.”

Not for the first time that day, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last time either, Valerie had taken her completely aback. Furrowing her brow in confusion, Sam insisted, “What are you talking about? You two are the best ghost hunters in Amity Park, you guys would have been the ultimate power couple!”

Leaning back on her elbows, the Red Huntress sent the Goth a smirk, “Ah, but you’re forgetting I would’ve had to know Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same first. And I…”, for the first time since their sparring lesson began, Valerie found herself hesitating, “I don’t know how I would’ve taken that.

“Sure, I really, really liked Danny, but I had spent far longer hating his ghost half. Ever since the Cujo-related incidents I blamed him for the turn my life had taken. And even when I was growing fond of Danny Fenton, his actions as Danny Phantom still drove me nuts! I mean, he literally unmasked me right before my dad! He forbade me from ghost hunting until I got that upgrade in my suit. Could I really put all that aside in favour of having a relationship with him?

“That’s why it took me so long to face you guys once I learned the truth; I was trying to make peace with it all. I figured I could learn to forgive Danny, maybe even trust him with my life...but never with my heart again. There were too many imbalances between us for me to be comfortable in a relationship with him...and you guys are honestly better together anyways.” She winked at the ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.

“You really think so?” Sam could feel the heat making its way to her cheeks the moment Valerie nodded at her question. “I-I mean!”, ugh, how she hated stuttering!, “Danny’s always been super important to me...obviously! And we’ve always done our best to be there for each other and have each other’s backs, but there are times when I can’t help but wonder if perhaps we’re just making a mistake and we were better off as friends…” She finished with a defeated sigh. 

At the sensation of an arm wrapped around her shoulders, she turned to look at Valerie. “Sam, trust me. This is no mistake. You’re one of the very few people who understand there’s no difference between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom; they’re both Danny and you’ve always known that and done your best to show him just that. And unlike Paulina or me, even if you hadn’t known his secret from the beginning, I’m willing to bet my right arm that you would’ve accepted both sides of him equally either way.”

At her words, Sam could only smile warmly, “You really think so?”

Valerie returned her smile. “I know so.”

Still replaying Valerie’s words and organising her own thoughts in her head, Sam turned to face her, one hand resting on her lap and the other on Valerie’s shoulder, “For what it’s worth, I still think that after a, very understandable, initial bump in your relationship, you two could’ve made a great couple too. I meant what I said when I told you that, if Danny liked you, then we would only have to make room for you at our table. I can’t think of any girl I would be willing to do that for but you, Val.”

Valerie almost gasped at Sam’s words, but she recovered rather quickly, “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot coming from you.” Resting her own hand on top of the one on her shoulder, she winked mischievously at her, “And don’t worry; I don’t go around stealing my friends’ boyfriends.”

The Goth girl snorted at that. “Glad to hear that.”

They remained like that for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence that had settled between them and their secret understanding. They were friends. They had similarities and differences. But that would never change the respect each felt for the other. 

Finally, getting up from the floor and dusting herself off, Valerie broke the silence, “Come on, there’s still many moves I haven’t used to kick your butt.” 

Sam smirked at the challenge, “Oh, you’re so on!”

................

The Fentons’ Emergency Ops Centre had, ironically, become their safe haven. 

Whenever they wanted to enjoy some alone time before they had to part ways or a ghost attack took place, they would simply climb up the roof and enter through the door leading to it. Although Danny could just phase or fly them there if they were really pressed for time, which was their usual way of getting there because they were always pressed for time. 

The Ops Centre was really just an excuse to spend some time together, really.

It didn’t matter what they did. Sometimes they would make out because they were a couple and couples made out with each other, didn’t they? Especially when said couple consisted of two hormone-driven teenagers. Maybe if they’d been a pair of octogenarians, the fuss of the relationship would have been elsewhere. Like how incredible it was that they’d survived that long in the first place.

Other times they just talked about nothing and everything at the same time. Sort of like what they usually did, but without Tucker. Sam would often talk about the latest hideous monstrosity their parents had intended she wore ー”Oh, you’re laughing now! But trust me, Undergrowth had much better fashion sense than my parents!”ー, or how rapidly the poles were melting and nobody was doing anything about it, or how her latest poetry reading went ー“Kwan’s getting better, actually. This time he wrote about the new scabs he got during the last game”ー, and how they could defeat the villain of the week who was somehow harder to beat than the previous one because, really, they always got harder to beat. 

And Danny would recall his parents’ latest shenanigans, or Jazz’s newest psychological experiment with ghosts that she was sure was going to work because it was just flawless; or he’d warn her about the food in his house ー”I know you don’t eat meat anyways, but don’t open the fridge. The ecto-weenies are back and this time they’ve brought BBQ sauce.” He would also complain about the workload of homework Mr Lancer had assigned them; sometimes because he didn’t think he’d have the time to finish it all, and sometimes he just didn’t know where to start because what the Heck is irony anyway? Didn’t anyone realise that what they often called irony was actually more of a paradox? How could they be teaching something wrong in English class?! And, sometimes, in those rare moments where Danny finally realised, only to forget his lesson all over again the next day, that he could count on her, Tucker, Jazz, Val ーand his loved ones, damn it!ー and confide his deepest secrets, he would open up about how being Danny Phantom was taking its toll on him. How being famous was more often than not more suffocating than flattering. How he was getting tired that his enemies only ever came back, or became stronger, or multiplied. How he feared, no, how he felt it was never going to end until he was 100% dead and not just 50%... He even still had trouble understanding what truly happened to him the day of the accident. 

And maybe they just would never know. 

And then, there were days like today. Days where they would just stay in silence, watching Amity Park since the makeshift observatory his zany but genius parents had built all on their own. Because, sometimes, watching the sunset in silence with that special someone was just enough. 

While Danny leaned against the railing, Sam was sitting on top of it, enjoying the soft breeze blowing around her and caressing her skin. “Today I trained with Valerie.”

Perking up at the sound of her voice suddenly breaking the silence, Danny turned his head slightly in her direction. “Oh?” He let out, “How did it go?”

“I managed to last a full five minutes and land a few serious hits myself.” She stated proudly. 

The ghost boy whistled appreciatively, “Five full minutes! Now that’s impressive.” He sent her a sly look and a smirk, his admiration turning into amusement, “And how many hits did you cushion?”

Curling her lip in annoyance, Sam muttered, “The fact that I’m even sitting here is a miracle in itself.”

That had Danny snickering like crazy, before a sharp pain in his arm stopped him, “Ow!” 

To his surprise, instead of a smug Sam as he expected, he found his girlfriend gingerly rubbing her arm, a pained expression on her face. “Okay,” she panted, “that was so not worth it.”

“Here, let me help.” Gently resting his fingers on her arm, he used his ice powers to send a chilly sensation across her limb, effectively alleviating the pain. “Anything else I should know about? Did the training turn into a battle to the death?”

“Actually, we talked things out and we finally buried the hatchet.” She said seriously.

Danny furrowed the brow in confusion. “Uh, Sam? I was kidding. And I thought you already did that when she found out the truth about my powers.”

Chuckling softly, Sam could only roll her eyes with a smile on her face as she leaned close to leave a tender kiss on his lips before whispering, “Clueless.”

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp fic #dp fanfic #sam manson #valerie gray #danny fenton #tucker foley #jazz fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #paulina sanchez #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #most characters are just mentioned though #amethyst ocean #danny/sam #my fic

[rpgsandbox]

Part homage, all farce, the AWFULLY CHEERFUL ENGINE! is an irreverent, affectionate parody of pop-culture tropes and a love-letter to 80s roleplaying games in a new, modern comic-book sized format! It’s a wacky roleplaying game of action comedy!

       Hardcover collector's omnibus, softcover rules and adventures, blank ID cards, monster cards, hero role cards, VTT tokens

Are you a fan of the Ghostbusters RPG from the 1980s? Danger Mouse or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Bill & Ted or Rick & Morty? Back to the Future, Indiana Jones, Dracula, or sci-fi adventures on the final frontier? Do you enjoy chortling at TV tropes or chuckling at pop-culture parodies? Then the Awfully Cheerful Engine! is here for you!

ACE! is brought to you by Russ 'Morrus' Morrissey (EN World, WOIN, Judge Dredd & The Worlds of 2000 AD), Dave Chapman (Doctor Who, Star Trek Adventures), and Marc Langworthy (Hellboy, Judge Dredd & The Worlds of 2000 AD). With a foreword by Sandy Petersen, co-author of the Ghostbusters RPG!

ACE! is designed for everybody! From talking animals to pulp heroes to eldritch horrors, kids and adults alike will find adventures to love with the Awfully Cheerful Engine!

This tabletop roleplaying game, which we’re calling ACE! with an exclamation point, is one of fast, cinematic, action comedy. To play you need a handful of six-sided dice, a pen, and some paper. Each player plays one Hero, except for one player who takes the role of the Director.

Think of ACE! as an irreverent, fun-packed movie. You might play as ghost hunters in New York City, a band of plucky galactic guardians, vampire slayers, or soldiers of fortune in the Los Angeles underground. Heck, you might even be cartoon animals. Good grief!

This is a multi-dimensional, time-hopping, genre-mashing, pan-galactic portal into any type of adventure you can imagine! Want to play in a fantasy world full of elves and orcs? Crew a starship as it explores the galaxy? Hunt vampires in Victorian London? Play as animal detectives, robot cowboys, wizards, ninjas, or time traveling bounty hunters?

The only limit is your imagination, and the requirement that you have fun.

This Kickstarter is for the full five-book set.

What? Five books, you say? Fear not -- they're pretty small books! They include the core rules, and four hilarious genre-hopping adventures. Each book is about 30 pages long. Except for one which is longer, but we wrote 'BUMPER SIZE ISSUE' on the front of that, so it's OK. If you’ve ever held a comic-book in your hand, the Awfully Cheerful Engine! will feel very familiar!

The core rulebook is just 30 pages in a bright, colorful comic-book sized format. We even gave it an issue number, like a comic-book! After that, each 'issue' is a standalone adventure, designed for one-shots or short campaigns with new characters each time. One week you might be fighting ghosts on the streets of Manhattan, and the next you might be exploring the frontiers of space in your trusty starship!

You don't have to play them all, or in order. The standalone format means you can fit them in whenever and however you feel like it. GM can't make your regular game? Go bust some ghosts instead! Pickup game at a convention? Investigate the strange goings-on in a small American town in the 1980s. Running a livestream? Board a starship and fight the Kulkan Empire! Play one of them, some of them, or all of them! It's up to you!

                Are they comics? Or are they RPGs? (They're RPGs)

ACE #1: Introducing the Awfully Cheerful Engine! With a foreword by Ghostbusters RPG author Sandy Petersen, this book tells you the rules, how to create your Heroes, and gives you a bunch of Extras (NPCs & monsters) to use. By Russ Morrissey.

ACE #2: Spirits of Manhattan. Strap on your Anti-Plasm Particle Thrower, grab your Electromagnetic Field Detector, and jump into your Ghostmobile. New York City needs your help! By Dave Chapman and Russ Morrissey.

ACE #3: Montana Drones & The Raiders of the Cutty Sark. At the request of Army Intelligence, Montana Drones and her team travel the globe in search of lost or hidden artefacts, often exploring dangerous sites and racing against hostile enemy agents to keep the objects of their quests from falling into the wrong hands. Striking locations, exciting chases, dangerous enemies and monotonous classroom lectures await! By Marc Langworthy.

ACE #4: Strange Science. Welcome to Wilden Falls, your average American town in the heart of the country. Surrounded by trees, nature, and there’s a wonderful waterfall that brings the tourists. It’s a quaint little town. Until weird things start happening at the local research facility, people go missing, and there’s a sudden influx of fitness nuts in the town. That’s before we get to the time travel, bodysnatching, and portals to other dimensions. Maybe ‘strange’ isn’t strong enough a word for it! By Dave Chapman.

ACE #5: Beam Me Up! These are the voyages of the starship FSS Brazen. Its continuing mission: to recklessly go where plenty of people have probably been before… and hope a major interstellar incident isn’t sparked in the process. In this highly illogical adventure for the ACE! roleplaying game, you’ll explore frontiers you never thought you had. By Marc Langworthy.

We give you four adventures to start with, and we have plans for more, but there's also a free compatibility license so anybody can write and publish material powered by the Awfully Cheerful Engine!

Hardy Hobbit. Teenage Samurai. Cheerful Stuntman. Clumsy Vampire. Squeamish Ghost. Who knew you could say so much in just two words? The possibilities are endless.

It’s not just Awfully Cheerful! It’s fast and fun, too!

You won’t get bogged down in endless rules and character sheets that look like tax forms. Your ACE! ID Card contains everything you need to know, and it’s only about the size of a credit card! But don’t try to spend it. It’s not a real credit card. Honestly, we tried, and it didn't end well.

You can download blank ID cards from our website. Don’t worry, there’s a printer-friendly black-and-white version too!

Making your Hero takes about five minutes. And that includes a coffee break.

You can choose from an array of talking animals, alien and fantasy species, and occupations from a bunch of genres. Play a cat, a crow, or a turtle. An alien, an elf, a robot, or a vampire. A knight, a pirate, or a wizard. An astronaut, a burglar, a reporter, or a spy. The core book has dozens of Roles to get you started with, and each adventure book introduces more!

Even better, you can already use our online character builder and make a character in about 30 seconds! It's so quick! Give it a try! And if you felt like sharing your Hero on Twitter with the hashtag #awfullycheerful and a link to this page, well, we'd be most awfully grateful!

                                       Build your Hero online!

Alternatively, each adventure comes with its own selection of pre-generated characters. If you don't want to make your own characters, you can simply use those - perfect for one-shots or new players!

Download the pre-gens for all four adventures from the official website!

In A.C.E! each Hero (that's you!) has a Role. Your Role gives you a special ability only you can use. Here's a quick look at some of the Roles you can play!

Talking animals like Ape, Cat, Crow, Dog, Kangaroo, and Turtle.

Species like Alien, Dwarf, Elf, Ghost, Goblin, Golem, Hobbit, Monster, Ogre, Robot, Vampire, and Werewolf.

Fantasy roles like Alchemist, Assassin, Barbarian, Cleric, Druid, Knight, Ninja, Outlaw, Pirate, Ranger, Samurai, Slayer, and Wizard.

Occupations like Actor, Archeologist, Astronaut, Athlete, Bounty Hunter, Boxer, Burglar, Chef, Con Artist, Cowboy, Detective, Doctor, Engineer, Gambler, Gangster, Hacker, Hermit, Inventor, Musician, Pilot, Priest, Professor, Reporter, Scientist, Smuggler, Soldier, Spy, Student, and Stuntman.

Even a couple of superheroes like Speedster and Vigilante!

Yep, you can play a Ghost. You don’t take damage unless its from a holy source or some special sci-fi ecto-gadget. But you also can’t pick things up. So there’s that.

Each of the adventures adds some more Roles (or recommends some old ones)!

Spirits of Manhattan adds Ghost, Demonologist, Doctor, Engineer, Exorcist, Inventor, Priest, Professor, Scientist, and Student.

Raiders of the Cutty Sark adds Botanist, Double-Agent, Socialite, and Witch.

Strange Science adds Brain, Cheerleader, Outsider, Protector, Radio Presenter, and Tycoon.

Beam Me Up adds Captain, Chief Engineer, Comms, Hologram, Gunner, Counsellor, and Pilot.

ACE! is a pretty fast, light game. If you played 1986's Ghostbusters RPG, you'll see the influence immediately.

Stats! The AWFULLY CHEERFUL ENGINE! is a d6 dice pool system*. You have four Stats -- Smarts, Moves, Style, and Brawn. If you have a Moves score of 3, you roll three six-sided dice when you try to jump a motorcycle over a ravine. If you roll high enough, you succeed. It's pretty simple!

Focuses! For each Stat you also have a Focus. For Smarts it might be a science, or chess, or history. For Style it might be bluffing, singing, or fashion, and for Brawn it might be brawling or swimming. You can choose from plenty of focuses. Foci. Focuses. Whatever.  Anyway, if the thing you're trying to do relates to a Focus, you get to roll an extra two dice.

Trait! You choose a trait, like Angry or Cheerful or Rebellious or Despondent. This, combined with your Role, makes you a Gullible Vampire, a Brave Turtle, or a Squeamish Scientist.

Karma! Finally, you have a bunch of Karma points. These can be spent for extra dice or to absorb damage from attacks, and they're recovered by using your trait.

*Fun fact -- did you know that 1986's Ghostbusters RPG, by Sandy Petersen, Lynn Willis and Greg Stafford, was the first ever dice pool RPG? Also Sandy Petersen has written an awesome foreword for the AWFULLY CHEERFUL ENGINE!

What, I hear you ask, is a CALAMITY DIE?

The Calamity Die is how you find out that your friends really aren't your friends. You see, when you make a roll, one of those dice is a different color, and is called the Calamity Die. And if your roll fails, and also the Calamity Die rolls a 1, your so-called 'friends' decide what happens to you. It won't kill you or anything, but...

Well, we'll leave that thought with you.

                             Nooooo! And it was all going so well!

Kickstarter campaign ends: Fri, June 18 2021 10:00 PM BST

Website: [Awfully Cheerful Engine] [EN Publishing] [facebook] [twitter]

#RPG #kickstarter #Awfully Cheerful Engine #EN Publishing