#he was clearly trying to get or B) correct him about it being an edited panel and just… leave it at that!

[ectonurites]

tom taylor is so fucking annoying and im tired of anyone pretending he’s not

#ik most people in my circle of dc followers/mutuals on here are in agreement on this but #daily i see ppl dickriding him and just. Enough. im not saying he’s evil but he’s so fucking tone deaf #yes this is in reference to how he responded to the dixon situation today. #you don’t thank a fucking bigoted asshole who was purposefully spreading misinfo so he could be homophobic about it #in your tweet politely correcting him. like. jesus fucking christ grow a backbone my dude #‘oh it was classy’ shut uppppp there is no reason for someone who totes themselves as such a dedicated lgbtq+ ally as tom taylor does #to publicly directly thank a bigoted asshat like dixon. there is just No Reason #it would have been so easy to just A) fucking ignore it and not give Dixon the attention #he was clearly trying to get or B) correct him about it being an edited panel and just… leave it at that! #but no. no he could not just do that. #grandpa max is god? i go to church now #anyway. its 3am and im annoyed.

[ronearoundblindly]

Mr. & Mrs.

A/N: Anon asked for a Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU, specifically the assassins/agents who don’t know the other’s professional identity. [Full disclosure I only ever saw this movie once, and I've adjusted...things.] This was a Steve Rogers request, but not gonna lie, I got heavy Lloyd Hansen vibes. Still using Steve as his name, but I think it works if you squint and say Lloyd has a cover identity. Lots of hand waving there. I have no idea how my brain twisted it into this, but here goes… Warnings: zero editing, action/violence kinda, implied smut. Word count: 1.7k

“We just have to make it to vacation,” you groan. “Please, let’s just try not to kill each other.”

Steve’s in a mood, nitpicking the nutritional value of the meal you absolutely did not slave over because you, too, work. He plunks down his wine glass and peeks through his lashes at you. “I know, honey. I know. Less than a week.” His smile is gooey with a steel edge.

Steve—what can you say?—he’s a specimen of human perfection, a personal trainer who’s so in-demand that you haven’t been on a trip away together in three and a half years, and that was your honeymoon. A workaholic by nature, Steve can’t help himself. He has to get every accolade at his gym, has to help every client, has to take every paid session. All times of day. It’s absurd, but he agreed, after weeks of you being the nagging bitch you never wanted to be, to a getaway, nice and far from here.

You need the break, too. You’ve worked yourself to the bone. Literally. You’re a seamstress by trade, fingers callused and numb to prove it.

“There’s a client event on Saturday,” Steve mutters, knowing full-well what he’s doing.

Now it’s your turn to put down your glass. “And you’re just telling me now? I thought we were going out.”

“Last minute. Very important people. I can’t miss it.”

“Well, let me check your suit. I know there’s a pulled stitch on that button-down—“

“I’m not wearing the pink one,” Steve chuckles. “Why are you always trying to get me in that thing?”

“It’s salmon,” you correct, “and you know that real men wear pink.”

“The blue will be fine. It’s not a fancy gig.” He twiddles his knife on the table, clearly done with the half-eaten food before him.

You met Steve at a self-defense class that he volunteered to teach at the Y half a decade ago. He was cute, and you were pretty distracted by his muscles. To your surprise, he offered you more lessons even though, or maybe because, you were the worst in the class. A different sort of power struggle came out of those sessions, but still there was a lot of sweating, a few bruises, and lots of screams. He’s…uh…good at his job, and it does pay well, just not ‘a week-long international trip’ well.

You’ve been working overtime, if you can call it that, for months to save up. Your—cough—job in fashion is highly specialized. You make protective ready wear for the city’s top mob bosses: bullet-proof three-button vests, blade resistant suits, and whole wardrobes. Of course, Steve doesn’t need to, or want to, know who you design and sew for; he calls it frilling about with the 1%.

Ironic. His job is to make the 1% feel like they can take on the 99% in hand-to-hand combat with lots of rules and a referee and padded gloves on. You respect what he does just as much as he respects what you do, which is to say he brings home money and so do you.

You both just have to make it to Tuesday.

Well, if he’s got to spend your date night schmoozing dudes, then you may as well get some work done. Old Bruno wants cruise wear for himself and his wife. Mr. B may be a portly sod, but at least his trophy wife offers you a fashionable challenge…and something to vaguely speak to your husband about, if he ever actually asks.

“Just the blue then,” you mutter back, pouring yourself more wine while Steve stares at your lips slowly wrapping the edge of the glass.

You two may have issues verbally communicating, but there are zero issues in the bedroom. He knows that. You know that. You’ll still make him wait until you're done sipping a lovely, juicy red.

Or not.

Steve pushes his chair out and stalks over to you, blue eyes fiery beneath those damn long lashes, and he kneels at your feet.

“The blue,” he repeats absently, knotting his fingers around your waistband. Yeah, he’s not in a waiting mood, and come to think of it, neither are you.

***

Steve hums in thought, rolling his thumb over the odd fabric the medical examiner studied from Tinker Boy Joe’s suit. The second-level goon of the city’s Family had only gone down after four agents pursued. Down to his felt—or what looked like felt—hat, Joe was untouchable. Bullets, knives, a random tranque-dart the Torres fired at him: nothing went through. It was only a somewhat lucky sniped shot from Bucky on a rooftop that had brought down the mobster. Clean through the throat.

Not exactly ideal when the whole point was to bring Tink here in alive, but Steve supposes one less criminal, one less crime at least.

“Where would he get something like this?”

“Ah,” Torres pipes in, sorting through a small stack of paperwork in his arms to hand Steve a file, “we have a CI who identified the shop they all frequent, but it’s unlikely the tailor works out of there. Most of the clientele are straight-laced anyway. Society types. It’s a decent cover for—“

“Anytime now,” Steve blurts.

The young agent snaps back to, rummaging and handing Steve a map from the pile. “Here,” he points. “CI says that’s the warehouse where it’s made. Abandoned sweatshop. Which is fitting.”

Steve sighs and tucks the info under his arm. “Let’s get a team together and hit it tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?” Torres squeaks.

“Yeah.” Steve flings open the door, ready to get out of the morgue-scented white room. “I have vacation coming up. I want this squared away before then.”

Thank god he already gave you an excuse for date night.

***

The warehouse is, indeed, abandoned for the most part. Thick dust everywhere. Hap-hazardously tossed furniture piled in corners.

And then Steve hears music. He tries not to laugh at how random it is to be hearing your favorite song at a moment like this, but then again, you always like quite popular artists. It was bound to happen. They are expecting a team of women working under a master tailor, and their intel was right so far. Steve had a pair of agents watch the facility all day. Several women left in the afternoon. There are no other cars around, so it’s either empty or only one or two remain.

What Steve isn’t expecting when they bust the door open is a single person dressed in a baggy work smock with a hair net and mask on. He can’t even tell if it’s a man or woman. Torres screams freeze, and as the figure turns around, hands raising, his or her arm knocks the lone work lamp out of place and plunges most of the room into darkness.

Nobody fires a shot, not without light to see they aren’t shooting each other. Steve’s team is calling out prompts in the dark to let each other know who is where and if they have the tailor. He hears thuds and stunted cries from each man, not overly swift in the takedowns but efficient.

Steve can hear Torres bang the leg of a table and shout out which corner the person is trying to escape around, and Steve dives.

He knows the move used on him. He’s taught it hundreds of times before, but the strange part is that it’s a defense move generally for women. His body-weight is used against him, flinging him off-balance and into a door to the grass outside. 

He falls to the ground, and the tailor tries to run past. Steve’s grip is tight grabs the lady’s ankle, her momentum pulling harshly at his stretched out arm.

She topples, body scraping back towards him in the grass when he doesn’t yield, knocking the mask on her face loose. There’s nothing but moonlight as she scrambles towards him. He can see…you?

What the fuck?

In his tactical gear, you can’t see his face, and he’s too stunned to form any words.

You’re searching, nails—no, scissors—scraping along bits of his kevlar until you find the seam you’re looking for and hit the blades into it with your other palm.

Goddamn, yikes, that hurts.

“Honey, OW!” Steve finally manages, but he can’t lower his arm without pushing the sewing sheers diagonally into his armpit. He can’t rip it out for fear of blood loss. He’s stuck but so is your face...on him.

“Oh,” you whine, sitting back on your heels. It takes you all of one second to process before the sounds of his team coming knock you back into action. You lean down to his face and give it a little pat. 

“You should always let your wife dress you--” you stand up "--and don't count on dinner being ready when you get home." Then you rush off into the night.

Well…shit.

***

A few days later, Steve sidles up to his gate at the airport, ball cap pulled taut on his forehead and sunglasses already on. He rolls his bag behind him with the arm not in a soft sling.

You knew he’d come, so you let your smile broaden across your face. He’s wearing the salmon-colored shirt, his way of apologizing for underestimating you for years.

He tilts his head down at you. “Where you headed, miss?”

It’s all you can do not to giggle. “Somewhere without extradition.”

“I’m Steve, by the way—“ he doesn’t present a hand to shake because you stabbed him and it’s in a fucking sling “—I…train people…for a living.”

“Hi.” You introduce yourself and purposefully shove your hand forward, mocking him lightly. “I make clothes with very sharp sheers.”

Steve moans gently and licks his lips. He loves a bit of a game.

"That sounds very important," he drawls. You can tell he's staring even behind the shades.

The passengers are being called to board, and Steve looks around with a cheeky smirk.

“Any chance I could sit beside you?”

You think about it, dramatically. “I’d like that, but it’s a long flight. Hope we don’t try to kill each other on the way.”

For more works, check out my masterlist!

#ro answers #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers #steve x reader #fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #drabble #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen fanfiction #alternate universe #writing prompt #steve rogers fic #steve x you #fluff and romance #stabbing #stabbing is romantic right?

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

🍓🕯️🛼 🎲 🍄 📚 🔪 🏜️ 🦴🌸 🧩

(or just as many as you feel like doing 😁)

how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

I never really put much thought into it; it just sorta happened 😅

I’ve always been an avid daydreamer, and it seemed like the moment I learned how to spell and read, I started writing. It was a way to make the mental images in my mind a reality of sorts, and make them physical and real—things I could actually look at and see.

So it was the same way with fanfiction, more or less! I wanted to make the things I saw in my mind a thing I could see on a page, so I started writing :) And that’s still how it works to this day!

on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Hmm… I feel like I used to like editing a lot more than I do now. I’d probably give it… a 4? A 5, maybe?

Spell checking and grammar checking are easy for me, and it’s kinda fun to go through and fix little things like that :) It’s the more thought-provoking things such as reworking sentence structure, cleaning up paragraphs, and making sure the text flows together that’s much harder to figure out. I guess I don’t feel like I’m all that great of a judge when it comes to my own work; I either see a story as bad and something that can’t be fixed, or as something ground-breaking with no corrections needed. And I feel like both of those are Not Good, and don’t help me edit at all.

I’d definitely enjoy editing a lot more if I felt like I had a good grasp on what I could actually do to improve a story 😅

describe your latest wip with five emojis

:0

👥🗣️🧠💙🐑

what stops you from writing more in your free time? 

I don’t feel like writing 😅

I’m very much a feeler, and if I don’t feel like doing something, I’m probably not gonna do it—at least not willingly. And the same goes for writing! I absolutely love doing it, but I gotta wait until I’m in the right headspace for it, y’know? And I’m just not always in that wonderful headspace.

share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Ooooh!!

Honestly, the only ship I really have are Loki x Sylvie! I’ve fallen hard and fast for those two :)

A headcanon, hmm… oh! Sylvie would absolutely love horror movies, and always wanna go see the new ones in theaters. Loki, on the other hand, is very much afraid and disturbed by horror (though he’ll never ever admit it, even when it becomes painfully obvious to Everyone).

She makes fun of him relentlessly, while he stubbornly denies being scared at all. She finds it equally annoying and endearing XD

what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

Lemme go check…

It’s a bit of a story I recently started!

“Technoblade, look! It’s Friend!”


“I’ve looked at Friend like, seventeen different times, Ghostbur. You keep telling me to look at him.”

There’s a pause.

“Technoblade, Technoblade! Aww, look at Friend! He’s very happy right now. If he could speak English, that’s what he would say.”

Techno shakes his head, trying very hard to focus on the potion he’s brewing.

Aka, Techno’s patience is tested severely and continuously when Ghostbur decides to visit XD

Their relationship is very sweet, because Ghostbur loves Techno and always wants to help him out, and Techno clearly cares about Ghostbur and wants to protect him, but at the same time… Ghostbur is definitely one to test patience XD And exploring that dynamic is super fun!

what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Hmm… I’ve definitely been sort of… morbidly interested in drowning. I’ve researched a ton on that.

Random, but morbid is a very fun word to say XD

what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Definitely the ones talking about the characters being in-character :D It’s pretty much my biggest fear that I’ll mischaracterize people, so hearing people say that the opposite is true is just… really great :D :D

And also the comments talking about how the story affected them!! Like, there’s been several people who have CRIED because of my fics?? Which is just insane to me. Every time I get a comment saying that I do this but with more hearts:

The fact that my writing can touch people so deeply is incredible :’D

is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

Dream SMP 😅 I’ve been pretty much exclusively writing fanfic for this fandom since June of last year—and the story ideas just keep coming lol

But I did get a little inspired by the Loki series just recently :)

do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

YES THIS IS SUCH A YOU QUESTION

Here’s my dog, Ginger:

That last picture is one of my favorites of her :’)

Ginger is absolutely the sweetest dog I’ve ever known; she’s a very sleepy girl who gets so very excited whenever we return home after being out for errands and such. She’ll do anything for food (especially broccoli and butter) and has yet to catch a squirrel (though she’s never stopped trying).

She’s definitely an introverted dog, and gets overwhelmed pretty easily in loud/crowded environments. She also wasn’t socialized much as a puppy, so she struggles to interact with other dogs 😭

She’s deathly afraid of hula-hoops and freaking hates baths/swimming lol

She’s the best dog ever <3 She just turned eight, and I can’t imagine what life will be like without her. She’s very special :’)

Then there is Miles (who’s currently in the bed with me as I type)

All these pictures are from completely different days XD He sleeps a lot.

I’ve got a bit of a love-hate relationship with this boy. He’s an extremely mean cat—in fact, just a couple days ago he attacked Ginger for no reason and scratched her nose! He has it out for her (for some unknown reason. She’d never hurt a fly so I don’t know what he’s on about).

He’s also very fussy, and if he’s not fed at a specific time every day, he’ll get mad and start crying/biting/scratching XD He’s super high maintenance.

He’s… very. very lazy. He is not a skinny boy.

I don’t like him too much most of the time, but sometimes—like in the pictures shown above—he gets softer, and will come up to my bed and curl up and purr and make biscuits with his paws. He’s very very cute when he does that.

what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

NSFW/sexual content, for sure. I’ve never read a smut fic and never will 😅 I’ve got no interest in that sort of thing.

As far as smaller things go, it’d be…

1) poor formatting, with big blocks of text instead of line breaks

2) mischaracteriztion. This is a big thing for me when it comes to fanfic; if you’re gonna make the characters so blatantly unrecognizable, just come up with your own characters!!

3) badddd dialogue. This is a big pet peeve of mine XD I am a lover of realistic/natural dialogue mmhmm mmhmm

#ask #ask game answers #Deathy thank you so much!! I got excited when I saw all the emojis XD

[evenspelledevan]

i am very confused about the canon events theory.

i’ve seen a ton of theory posts calling miguel’s canon theory straight up wrong, and obviously miguel isn’t entirely right, otherwise, universes would be falling apart left and right due to canon disruptions in the storylines: peter b and MJ getting back together and having a spider child, peni’s robot being destroyed outside of her home universe and not going back with her, noir bringing a colored rubix cube into a black and white story, earth 42 lacking a spider-man, and miles’s whole existence being at odds with the story that was intended for him, and possibly gwen’s father resigning from the police. hell, the existence of spider hq seems like it ought to be a destabilizing factor in miguel’s own universe, or maybe the watches have some way of mitigating that, since miguel clearly has the resources necessary to prevent dimensional breakage with at least some rate of success. if it really only took bending or breaking the “canon” storyline to make universes start falling apart, every single one of these spider’s dimensions should have started crumbling by now. but they haven’t, or at least not that we can see.

but we also can’t say that miguel’s theory is wrong. pavitr’s universe started falling apart the moment miles disrupted his canon event. miguel witnessed firsthand how he destroyed an entire universe because he tried to fit himself into it when he didn’t belong there, and as much as he is an asshole, he isn’t stupid, and he doesn’t have malevolent intentions. he really is just trying to maintain the integrity of the multiverse. plus, pretty much every spider in hq listened to him unquestioningly when he told them to go chase down miles, and miguel hasn’t tried to hide the existence of canon events or the reality of what happened to his universe. clearly, thousands of spiders fully trust in him/his leadership despite his bad personality and past faults, and they also trust the canon event theory. from how it was mentioned he’s had to try (and sometimes fail) to salvage canon-disrupted universes on multiple other occasions, a bunch of them have to have been witnesses to the validity of miguel’s ideas.

so why is the idea of “canon events” so evidently spotty to the audience?

personally, I think it has to do with the definition of a character’s “canon timeline,” specifically miles. our miles morales was introduced in the story of first spider-verse movie, and dimensional openings/disruptions ARE his canon timeline (as observed by the audience). miguel doesn’t have fourth wall breaking abilities; there’s really no way for him to know that miles is supposed to be a dimensional anomaly, that his existence isn’t an error that needs to be corrected, but on a storyline that crosses between multiple dimensions. i think that miles, in some way, shape, or form, has some immunity or ability to mess with “canon” without the same consequences because he is “canonically” SUPPOSED to cross dimensions and have influences on the stories and lives of other characters. in fact, the commonality between all the canon disruptions i mentioned in the first paragraph are that they happened with some relation to miles’s impact on each of those characters’ lives (with the exception of gwen’s dad, maybe?? still not sure on that one).

there’s a few gaps i haven’t managed to fill here though, like if gwen’s dad is a canon disruption, why having spider 42’s bite made the go home machine send miles to 42 instead of his 1610, why he does or doesn’t glitch in 42 or 1610 respectively, why he glitches at all ngl since my theory is that he’s supposed to universe-hop, etc. whenever i watch the movie again, i’ll edit/provide citations for this theory as needed. that or we wait until next march and btsv addresses these questions for me lmao.

lmk what you think!

#atsv theory #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse theory #atsv

[choiwrites]

kth | the day after valentine’s (m.)

Words: 4.5k Synopsis: Taehyung, your best friend, had asked you to come over to help him arrange his furniture after moving for the hundredth time. It’s the day after Valentine’s and all the getting laid stuff is over, right? Not for Taehyung. Also, who the hell buys condoms after Valentine’s day? Rating: 18+ Author’s Note: This is a messy drabble that I have no intention cleaning or editing. I wrote this at liek 2am so a lot of typo’s ahead y’all.

When you agreed to come over Taehyung's apartment, you thought he needed help with arranging the stuff that came from his moving van today. But no, your best friend's not the most truthful person you know.

He spreads across his dirty old couch, one he'd kept from his college dorm, wearing nothing but his basketball shorts that holds tight against his waist. Seven years since meeting him, he's done nothing to change his lifestyle. Every month, it's the same old scenario of him moving to another place after getting evicted for God knows how many times, and you watching him play a mobile game while you beg him to please start unpacking before a landlord sends him on his ass again.

"Let me finish this level, I'm so close." He looks for a second to study your reaction, annoyance painted clearly on your face.

You shrug, and your eyes dart over the cigarette pack that almost hides in one of his Goodwill boxes.

"I though you quit?"

Confused, Taehyung follows your eyes and he regrets in an instant bringing you here.

"I haven't had one in two months. I'm stressed lately."

Sighing, you try to understand. Taehyung's been on and off with cigars, he'd buy one in secret but sooner or later, you'd always find a lighter in his laundry when coming over. You advice him to keep his hand busy, and you'd even given him a bracelet that chimes. He removed it three months later and you never asked where he threw it away.

"Fuck," his finger swipes his screen as if he wanted to break it, "I almost got it!" he yelled.

He switches off his phone, now staring back at you. Your eyes fall, he's always intimidating. You couldn't blame him, you were always intimidated.

"What?" you croaked.

"What do you mean what? What's your plan?"

"My plan? Why do I have to make the plans?" Your fingers find the hem of your thin baby blue shirt.

"Because you're the smarter one. How do I arrange all my shit? You got any idea?"

"Taehyung, we've been doing this for ages. How come you still depend on me? There will come a day that I won't be here anymore and the only person you could depend on is yourself." Was it seeing the cigarettes that raised your voice, or remembering that he threw your handmade bracelet? You couldn't care less.

He was quiet. Then he opens his mouth, and he's quiet again.

"You sound like my mom," he says, meaning to tease you as if he hadn't used that for the hundredth time. "Was your date last night that bad? I told you you should come with Hoseok and I on Valentine's, we had an amazing night at Jungkook's crib."

There he goes again, ignorant of your troubles. Classic selfish Tae, the exact same one who stood you up on homecoming because he spent it having sex with Tilly Janes in his car. You're still upset about it, he didn't even think of going inside to give you at least a minute to dance with somebody on the dance floor.

"Mind telling me what happened? Did you get laid?"

"Do you ever think of maybe you shouldn't ask such inappropriate questions to someone?"

"Fine," almost tired in his tone.

And you spend a few more minutes in silence, guessing each other's thoughts with the way both your gaze lands on the floor. He clears his throat and forgets what he's about to say. You wish you didn't cancel your nail appointment today just to be with your best friend who still, in no surprise, doesn't have a single plan in his life.

Taehyung suggests he buys a stock from the grocery first, and when he says stock he means an awful lot of Oreo cookies and Lays. You agreed with him and he gets dressed, though the soles of your feet still hurt from walking in heels for three hours straight last night. If only you knew that Hyungwon would be bringing you to a walking spree, you wouldn't have worn a formal attire.

Taehyung spends his time choosing between peanut butter and double stuff. You tell him to pick the peanut butter one because you've never seen him finish the double stuff, he always throws the leftovers saying it was too sweet. He ignores your opinion and chooses the double stuff over the peanut butter.

He asks you again whether he should buy milk or pineapple juice instead, and you tell him to pick milk because whoever drinks pineapple is a monster. He nods in affirmation, commenting about how pineapple has a really weird aftertaste. And he brings the milk back to the shelf, putting the pineapple juice in the cart.

"You should dress like that." He points at a mannequin dressed in sportswear.

"You don't tell me what to wear, young man. I don't even jog."

"I'm just saying you'd look hotter." He scans you head to toe and your knees weaken a little.

He takes a route to the meat section, you already know why. He just wants to brag about being a vegan. Jungkook had convinced him last month to finally turn vegan, and he's been talking about it non-stop.

"I can't stand the smell of meat anymore, it's disgusting." He pinches his nose, wrinkles forming on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Vegan. We get it." You rolled your eyes.

"No, really. It's making me vomit," he says, nasally.

"Just make sure that once I cook chicken alfredo, your mouth wouldn't water."

Upon reaching the counter, Taehyung approaches the magazines and candy bars, leaving you in line.

What does he need this time?

And when you're up next in line, he comes back with a tight fist, hiding an item as he crosses his arms.

He thought he was sleek, but when he throws the condoms next to the Oreos, you couldn't help but laugh.

"You're buying condoms after Valentine's Day?" You throw your hand to your mouth, suppressing an uncontrollable laughter. "Did you run out last night or you're only getting laid today?" you added.

"Do you ever think of maybe you shouldn't ask such inappropriate questions to someone?"

You sighed. "But seriously, I know you wanna answer that question."

In the mood, you poke at his waist and he flinches like a worm. Taehyung was cocky, but he can be cute sometimes in ways he doesn't intend to.

"I ran out last night. Lucky you who don't need to buy another one since none of your dates ever pass your standards."

You couldn't point it out in what he said that made your heart throb, it felt a little offensive. Taehyung knows so much about you, it can get scary when he opens his mouth. What's he thinking right now? Cute little y/n, no one's ever good enough for her fragile heart. Cute little y/n, always finds a mistake in every part.

"That's not true, you know? I just don't settle that easily."

The corners of his lips lift, eyes rolling in disbelief. He was skinning you alive with that gaze, annoyed. He has a sarcastic smile sprawled all over his face, you just wanna punch it away.

On the way home, you thought about what he said for a second... For a while. You thought about it for a while. Was Taehyung right? Was his perception of you correct? Whatever it was, it did hurt. All you ever did for Taehyung was to be a good friend, and he gave nothing in return. You weren't expecting anything, but deep inside you knew Taehyung loves you just as much as you love him. But like every other person, insecurity gets in the way in relationships.

Maybe Taehyung doesn't even treat you as a friend.

No, you argued inside your head.

Sure, you've seen him in his most vulnerable moments. You've seen him break and you've seen him fall, you've seen him lose the inner parts of his soul. You've seen Taehyung happy, and you will always remember that specific laugh he lets out whenever he pretends something is funny. You know that he blinks when he curses because his body rejects it. He told you about his broken dream of becoming an astrologist, and you daydreamed together about the stars and the way they collide like magical dusts.

Maybe Taehyung doesn't know you like you know him.

Before the thought gets answered, Taehyung was already groaning as he puts the bags down to his counter. You had forgotten you arrived.

"We should start with your room. I'll place your clothes in your closet and you go arrange your miscellaneous."

He doesn't nod. Why won't he nod?  God, please, Taehyung, just agree with me once.

He remains standing with both his hands on either sides of his waist and he does nothing else. Still standing feet away from you, just knitted brows and a stern expression that you couldn't read. What is it this time?

"How was it?" His arms cross on the buff his chest, waiting for a response as he tries to read your reaction the same way you're reading where he's coming from.

"How was what?"

"The sex, y/n. Was it so bad you're in a bad mood today?" A laugh pauses in his throat, replaced by a rise of the corner of his lips.

It was a tug, or maybe a push, in your stomach that made your minds do wonders of spins. Such an unpredictable person Taehyung is.

There was nothing to deliberate inside your mind, nothing happened last night. Hyungwon went home without a kiss on his lips, and you're limbs gave out due to the amount of walking.

"There's no sex. We didn't have sex."

"Let me guess, he insulted your outfit? If not, he probably split the check." His index finger extends, eyes wrinkling to get out any more ideas from his dirty little head.

"Can you just- Ugh! What's with you and your insults?"

"How was that an insult? I was guessing which of what he did didn't pass your golden standard."

"If I had a better standard, maybe you wouldn't be my friend." Ouch. It wasn't directed to you but sometimes you just want to dissolve after saying something.

"I'm your friend because you have a high standard." He wasn't offended, not a single bit from what you have said. Was Taehyung that oblivious of how miserable he is? "If we weren't friends, I'm pretty sure I could get inside your pants."

You hoped he regret what he said, just as much as you wanted to dissipate earlier.

"I'm sorry, Taehyung. But my 'golden standard' would never, and I can't stress this enough, let you get in my pants, in an alternate universe where we aren't friends."

"Lies. Lies. Lies. I could easily get you swooning for me in just a matter of seconds, y/n. Stop, and I can't stress this enough, lying."

"Sure, Taehyung. Whatever you want me to fucking say." You turned your back on him to get a grip of yourself. You grunt, you shudder, and you sighed.

Cocky. Bastard. You could join those words together and it would still perfectly describe Taehyung. Perhaps you have a list of two words that could go either independently or together they'd still describe Taehyung well.

Arrogant. Pervert. Overconfident. Asshole. Striking. Idiot. Son. Of. A. Bitch. I. Just. Want. To. Punch. Him.

He places a grip on your arm to spin you to him. "I want you to say it," with a guttural voice coming from the pits of somewhere within his diaphragm, it's crazy how smooth it escaped from his lips.

"Saywhat?" as opposed to yours that escaped with so much tremble and crisp, thinner than air.

"Consent," he began. "I'm pretty sure I can reach your standard."

It was probably a bad idea. And a bad idea is followed by a spontaneous drive to try it, that's how it's done in movies. You'd probably regret it, right? But you'd regret it more if you don't get a chance to prove Taehyung wrong.

Fine. He needs a wake up call. He needs to wake up from that delusion he'd built inside his towering cocky arrogant head, no pun intended, that he's not every girl's cup of tea.

"You know what? Sure. What do you want me to do? Ride you? Then give you a blowjob after not finding the clit-"

He pulls you, hand reaching your lower back to push his groin toward your front. You were far behind than he was, Taehyung was already hard and eager. His lips were hot, warm around the tip of your tongue that vividly tastes the mint and smoke he had had earlier this morning. It was evident in the sloppiness of his kiss, swiftness of his wandering hands, and blazing fire underneath the lust of his eyes, Taehyung isn't exactly as what you have thought him to be.

The men you've slept with before, they were a floating fish in the sea. But Taehyung brings you sea deep into the weakness of your knees, the floor may have shaken 'cause you find yourself falling on his body and he catches you just perfectly, bodies molding with each other on the floor. Taehyung grips your thigh, to the north his hand traveled, his thumb harshly caressing your slit.

The position made it hard for him to move, he was struggling to reach every part of your body as he would have wanted so he pushed your body, and you look him in the eyes with question, both hands resting on his chest as he continues to play with your clit. He earns a sly grunt from you and he'd do anything to hear it again.

Then he was standing, carrying your body to the nearest stool he could find, desperate and quick. With one sharp thrust to lock you in position, he inhales the moan that went from your lips to his throat. Then he stops. He stopped.

"Moaning already, are we?" He lifts his brow, a crease forming on his forehead.

"Can you just get to it?"

He laughs. "That's not exactly how I always do it. I like to take my time."

You punch his shoulder, a questioning look taking over his features. Embarrassment flows through you. "This was a mistake."

He kisses you again, eating whatever insult was about to come out of your mouth. He wants to whisper it, that thing he have always wanted to tell you, in between kisses. Because now that he's got you under his touch, his tongue is burning just to say it. To distract himself, he digs into your waist deeper, sinking those three little words under your skin hoping you'd realize it.

You pull away, pushing him away from you. "Something wrong?" His nails have left their mark before you could figure out.

"No, no. Nothing's wrong."

There is though. You're not a stranger to not know the look on Taehyung's face. You recognize this one, it happened before. The trembling lips and crimson cheeks. They bring you back the day after prom, the day after Tilly Janes took his innocence.

"What happened last night?" you asked him, arms crossed against your chest.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come-"

"You came Tae. You came hard, didn't you? I can't believe you convinced me to go to prom just so you can leave me in there alone."

"I didn't want to. Listen, okay, I realized something last night."

"I don't need your apology, Taehyung. I don't need it. Jimin took me home last night."

"What? Why?"

"Why? Because some asshole left me without a ride. That's why!"

"I was looking for you last-"

"Shut it. He asked me on a date. So thank God, I'm at least in a good mood today to not flame on you."

"He asked you on a date? Are you going?"

Trembling lips and crimson cheeks. He gulped so hard you heard it.

"I am. Hey, are you okay?"

"I just can't believe someone would even ask you out. I'll be going, forget I came."

It's the same face, the same gulp. You put your hand on his cheek, like what a mom would do to an injured child, and he holds it so you won't ever let go of his face.

"We can stop. I know. This was a bad idea. We shouldn't have done it."

He shakes his head, his other hand creeping behind you. He latches his lips onto yours again, pulling your shirt up to reveal your stomach. The kiss was different, a touch of hunger for affection. A slow open one, mostly the breaths clashing in a soft whisper.

"I want you, y/n. I want you," he whispered to your mouth. You push him to the couch, straddling him and he groans in satisfaction. He pulls you closer, enough for his chin to land on your chest and he looks up in pure admiration of you.

There was more behind the words he said, but with the heat pooling in between your thighs, you couldn't care less as of now. It's something you'll resolve after. He tucks a strand of your hair as he makes thrusts underneath you, the thick cotton of his sweats didn't do anything to conceal his cock aching for you.

You remove his shirt, not being able to take your eyes away from his body. Sweet and honey under your gaze, he tenses them and you couldn't help but laugh at this. Kissing every inch of his exposed skin, you kneel as your knees approach the floor, not breaking eye contact with Taehyung while untying his sweats. His hand fails to fall steady on your arm and his Adam's apple bob in anticipation.

There's warmth that spreads across your stomach, different from the one in between you thighs. It's like electricity that continuously ignites a fire inside you when you notice his excitement, eager to have your mouth around him. A sign of reciprocation that he wants this just as much as you do no matter how hard you try to deny it, a catching fire of the thought that maybe he looks at you the way you look at him throughout all these years. Even now that you're not looking in his eyes, the continuous ignition of sparks inside you still teases.

You reach for his length, softly wrapping it in your hand and his breath quickens along with your heartbeat. Studying every detail, even the cold tones of the veins that spreads like tree roots. In usual occasions, giving head never takes your time. You suck it and finish it, no more and no less, nothing special really. But it's Taehyung, and his difference from others makes you uncomfortable in a way it shouldn't be possible. Trying to forget these unnecessary emotions, your thumb circles the head of his cock and he couldn't help but make his lip bleed, the agony of it keeping him awake to not fall into your dreamy touch.

His shorts reaches the floor and you made it quick to to kiss the base of his glistening length. Your index finger making lines on his thigh while the other keeps his cock steady as your lips move upward. You've never imagined how he would taste, but you were always sure he tastes exactly like he tastes now. Bittersweet. He throbs at the heat of your breath, thighs almost jumping when your fingers find his balls. He emits a groan that strengthens the force you're putting in your thighs to keep your core intact.

Down you go, the head of his cock deepening in your throat just like his grunts, getting lower and lower until he thrusts upwards making you gag and he releases a high-pitched whimper of your name. Tears blur your vision and a moan sends minimal vibration to his cock.

"I don't think... y/n, fuck, I'm not gonna last long," he confessed, and you finally look up to see him without removing him from your mouth.

You tongue swirling still and he has gone rabid trying to control himself, clenching your hair as he lets himself go maniac against your throat. He stares at you with mad eyes, his mouth failing in keeping him quiet. Only his groans, his throat-fucking, and your whimpers that you can no longer suppress. You're a little scared maybe he'll get too confident and tease you on your gagging, calling himself so big he made you cry.

He pulls your hair and he tries to get a hold of himself, catching his breath to gain stability. Before you can wipe the corners of your lips, he was standing up and taking your shirt off. He frames his chin with his index finger and his thumb, making you grow conscious of your own body. He had no reason to be looking so long, he'd seen you in a two piece more than one occasion. And he's going behind you, putting a finger at the waist of your shorts, bringing it down slowly until it lands by itself. He wraps your hair in a pony as the other grips your ass, a throaty growl escaping from his body.

He rotates you to the other side, an empty blank wall where you can see the fool you made of yourself. The argument ends here. The argument has ended since he had kissed you like no one had kissed you. You shouldn't have underestimated Taehyung, because he's now biting your shoulder as he slowly descends you to the wall. He hums, this close he can hear the tiny whimpers you try to keep to yourself, your fragile voice that can break once you open your mouth to say something. He can hear them all and he's aware of the power he has over you.

A hand holds both of yours behind your back, and once he has successfully taken your white underwear off, he's positioning the fat head of his cock right in your entrance.

"Make it easier for the both of us and just say it, y/n," he commands, his breath echoing in your ear sending voltage in your spine. He bites your ear and he whispers again, "Baby, please."

"What?"

Taehyung laughs at your adorable cluelessness. He doesn't answer. The next thing you hear was the expansion of his breaths, getting heavier and heavier it's almost a hum as he slides himself inside you.

"Taehyung," you say in a falsetto, "god, Tae, fuck!"

"Hmm, fucking tight. You're so fucking tight, y/n. Your pussy's taking my cock so fucking well," his knees bend to enter you deeply, this sharp thrust hitting a spot in you you never knew you'd feel, "maybe now you'd let me fuck you often, huh? You're gonna take my cock anytime you want, I'll fuck your brains out, ruin you and your cunt."

You respond with a soft murmur of you're not entirely sure what, because Taehyung was already fucking your brains out and you had no other thoughts but the feeling of his cock that slips in out of you so easily. He'd hit that one spot and you're going to release yet another cry and he'd enjoy every note of it. You're a mess with strands of your hair sticking to your face as the sweat trickle down your temples.

"Tell me what you want, y/n. Want it fast, baby?" He speeds up his thrusts, your ah's getting louder as he almost sends you to your high. "Or you want to cherish every inch of my cock?" He slows down which brings you wailing, whimpering his name over and over until you're no longer sure if it's even coming out right. His free hand lands on your ass and you gasp as if inhaling after suffocation. "Answer me," he speeds up his pace again, "answer me, y/n."

But you couldn't, there's nothing in your body that you trust right now especially your voice. He growls, unsatisfied with your silence which leads him to pulling your hair and pushing your back to the wall. You're almost embarrassed to see his eyes once more in the state you're in, overpowered by the despair of wanting nothing but to have Taehyung take you to your climax. Your eyes are begging for him, hell there were tears coming from them as he enters you again.

He cries out, "I want to fuck you all day long, would you let me do that?" He continues to carry you upward the wall and your weight would go down whenever he pulls himself from you. You nod and as he sees this, his head moves back to watch your body crumble before him, giving him no more than satisfaction. "Look at you desperate for my cock, such a fucking whore for me, aren't ya?"

In every "hm" he makes, he enters you harder and rougher, makes you want to stay silent. You bite your lip, feeling yourself come to a close. Your thighs pulling together like magnets, wrapping his waist while it shakes and he doesn't take one second to land your body on the couch, watching your orgasm hit you with spasms traveling your whole body. Taehyung wraps his cock in his hand, moving toward your mouth as he jerks himself off to his own orgasm. You take the spurts of his fluid landing on your tongue, his waist twitching while he groans for each drop of cum.

He sighs, falling onto the couch where your legs are still apart. He smiles at your nakedness, not giving a second thought as his middle finger enters you once more. Your body  sits straight, only to land on the sofa's arm. "You're so fucking pretty," he commented, his body hovering over yours again. He kisses you.

"I can't handle," you say before Taehyung cuts you off with another kiss, and another, and another, his finger in and out of you which as the minute grows only turns from pain into pleasure again.

"You're going to," he whispers and he kisses you again, until you're crying his name and he just studies the way you react to his slender finger. "So pretty, so, so," he curves his finger resulting to your second orgasm, "pretty." He makes sure you see his savoring your juices in his mouth, and once he was done lapping up his finger he puts them inside your lips, tasting nothing but his saliva.

"Do you get it now, y/n?" He unclasps your bra, and from then on he ignores your eyes. "This is why I run out of condoms."

#kim taehyung #kth #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts fic #drabble #bts x reader #taehyung fic

[mehbzz]

FFXV A/B/O au 18+ includes fingering, yandere, controlling behaviour, alludes to forced breeding, depression, mentions of self harm, low self esteem/weight issues. F!reader/Ignis/Gladio

So this was going to be a pretty dark forced breeding kinda fic but my mood changed and it ended up being half the beginning of a forced breeding fic and half depressed reader suffering from a depressive episode. The change in my mood is very noticeable half way though and probably a little jarring so we shall pretend that the second half happens a month or two after the first half, when the topic of kids has been soothed over and temporarily forgotten! No proofreading, no beta.

EDIT- Just correcting a typo that was annoying me!

“….having children.”

“What??” You’d been spacing out, a mixture of the Eos version of antidepressants you were taking and the fact that this meeting with King Regis was more than a little boring. Or had been at least. The end of Regis’ sentence shocks you back into reality abruptly.

Ignis shushes you quietly and you look at him aghast, but he ignores you, focusing on the King.

“Apologies Your Majesty.” Regis briefly glances at you then back to Ignis, “She is your mate? Bonded?” “Yes Your Majesty, myself and Gladiolus.”

Regis looks back at you “And the nature of your relationship with my son is….?”

Ignis answers before you can, “She is companion to all pack members.”

“Can she speak for herself?” Your gaze flicks to Ignis and he nods. “Yes Your Majesty I can.” You feel foolish and more than a little embarrassed as your voice echoes in the hall.

“Your pack keeps you close, understandably so, although I have heard you do not have much freedom?” The King watches you, waiting for a reply you think but you’re not sure what to say. “She’s very quiet isn’t she?” It feels like a jab, and you look at Ignis for direction who looks uncomfortable. He shakes his head minutely so you bite your tongue. Regis sighs and you feel a little like you just missed an opportunity.

“I believe that as Pack Alpha and as The Prince of Lucis Noctis should have first breeding rights.”

Ignis freezes and you bite your tongue so hard you taste blood. Breeding rights?? “I am unsure if that is something Noctis –“

“It doesn't matter,” The King interrupts with a wave of his hand. “I let my son live as independently as possible, and have allowed him to start his own pack but having an omega is an opportunity to continue the Caelum line. An opportunity we may not see again and one that should not be denied.”

You feel incredibly taken off guard with this whole conversation. “You cannot be – “

Ignis grabs your hand and silences you with a tight squeeze of your fingers. You must be dreaming right? This is not truly happening. The floor feels like its tilting beneath you and you have to look down at your feet to make sure it’s not.

“I will let you discuss it with Noctis and within your pack but I hope you will not forget my opinion or interest in this matter.” Regis gazes at you for a few seconds. “Apologise to Noctis on my behalf, I will not be able to make our dinner this evening.”

Ignis bows and you reluctantly do the same. You feel dazed. Ignis tight grip on your hand doesn’t let up as you leave the throne room. He keeps giving you concerned glances out the corner of his eye as you walk back to your quarters, but it takes you until you’re walking down the corridor to your room that you shake yourself out of your stunned stupor enough to say anything.

“Did we just negotiate over which one of you gets to knock me up?” You ask incredulous. He doesn’t answer you but he frowns at your choice of words.

“Ignis, you – please tell me I just hallucinated that whole meeting.”

He sighs “we will need to discuss it.”

“You are not serious. The answer is no!” “It's an omegas role.” He snaps and you flinch, not used to Ignis’ anger.

“My apologies. If the King has taken an interest we will need to discuss it.” he repeats.

“He cant make me have children.”

Ignis hesitates barely a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a pulse of terror through you that he immediately picks up on. he stops, turning towards you and cradling your face in his hands. “I nor the rest of your pack would force you into anything you didn’t want love.” He lets you go and takes your hands again. “However it is the future of the royal bloodline, it will be something we need to talk about seriously in the future, whether we want to or not.” “We do not! I don’t want kids Ignis!” He flinches and something dark flickers across his face as he looks at you. It’s gone before you can interpret it as he turns away, pulling you after him as he continues walking.

You feel tired. “I thought I was your mate,” you say sullenly “not Noctis’.” “You are, unfortunately it’s more complicated than that.” You think you should be more upset by this than you currently feel. The medication you were on was new and felt a lot stronger than the antidepressants you had been taking back home. It left you feeling a little more numb and placid than you think you would have been otherwise.

He stops outside your room and pulls you into a kiss. Moaning softly when you immediately respond. He’s purring, trying to comfort you and you give in to the calm emotions it provokes, not wanting to feel the disorientated confusion anymore.

He leans closer, pushing you into the wall and his hand tugs up your dress until your thighs are bare. “You did well talking to the King, I was proud of you.” His praise makes you shiver. You thought Gladio was the one with the high sex drive but as his fingers stroke up your thighs you think Ignis is just as bad. Although a little more polite and less aggressive about it perhaps.

You're both quiet as his fingers slip between your thighs and he rubs softly at your clit. He presses harder and increases his pace at your gentle sigh and you turn to bury your face into his neck as the pleasure builds. You’re panting into his neck and he has his face buried in your hair, you’re not sure why you feel like you have to be quiet but you do your best to hold back your moans. He’s saying nothing, breathing hard he slips his hand up, pressing onto your abdomen before dipping into your panties and sliding a gloved finger inside of you. He gives you no time to adjust before he starts fucking you, like he’s desperate to make you cum. His palm grinds against your clit as he adds another finger, your orgasm is building fast, and as he continues his ruthless pace you feel another kind of pressure building slowly low in your stomach. It makes you gasp out his name in mild alarm, “Sl-slow down, I’m gonna pee!” He nuzzles against your ear, his purr increasing in volume. “No you’re not love, just relax,” he nips at your ear, “Let go for me.” He curls his fingers, stroking your walls quickly in just the right way to have your back arching. It’s a quick hard orgasm that takes you by surprise and has your whole body jerking and shaking as you ride out the aftershocks, biting into his shoulder as you try to control your twitching muscles. He seems a little disappointed but he’s still purring quietly and it helps calm your racing pulse. “Good Girl” he slowly withdraws his hand and removes his gloves. Leaning around you to open your door he gives you another quick kiss. “Noctis will be disappointed about this evening, perhaps we should eat together?” Your legs feel shaky as you enter, Prompto is sat on your couch, watching what sounds like a musical and Gladio appears in front of you, pulling you into a kiss before you can even say hello. The kiss Gladio gives you is ravenous, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. Both hands squeeze your ass as you try to pull away, conscious of the growing slick between your already wet thighs. “Gladio!” He chuckles at your breathless gasp and pulls away, letting you go. He slaps your ass hard as you walk away, almost crossing the line into genuinely painful but he only grins at your glare. You wince as you sit down next to Prompto and he gives you a sympathetic smile. He pats his knee “Lie down.”

Head resting in Prompto lap you half-heartedly watch the musical as he enthusiastically tells you the plot. You gaze flicks between the TV and Ignis and Gladio talking quietly by the door. You can’t make out what they’re saying but you have no doubt what they’re talking about. You’re still a little shook from your meeting with King Regis but you trust your pack to look after you. --------- “She looked to me for permission.” “hmm?” “When the King spoke to her. She looked to me before answering.” Gladio surprises him with a kiss to his cheek. “We trained her well.” “It’s not the way I wanted this topic brought up.” Ignis says after a few seconds and relaxes a little as Gladio strokes a hand down his back. “I didn’t realise that was what the King wished to discuss.” “Relax babe. We’ll do damage control, it’ll be fine.” Gladio watches Ignis expression closely, “She wasn’t happy with the idea I take it?” “She said No. Emphatically.” They both stand there quietly, watching you as you’re subjected to Prompto’s retelling of the film’s plot. “Accidents happen.” Gladio says quietly. Ignis frowns. “She’s on birth control and heat suppressants.” “You're in charge of her medication Iggy” Ignis finally looks at him, but says nothing. “Who can really tell one little pill from another?” Gladio shrugs. “Just saying.”

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“Noctis said you cancelled your plans with him today.” Ignis stands next to your bed watching you. He frowns slightly when you don’t respond, gently pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You push him away and he sits next to you on the mattress. He sits and waits watching you patiently until you give in and make eye contact with him. He's worried about you, it’s written clearly across his face and it makes you feel ill. You shrug. You're half expecting him to force you to go anyway.

“Bad day?”

You don't answer and snuggle deeper into your duvet.

“Love?”

“I'm fine,” It’s an automatic answer and a lie. “Just tired.” Not quite another lie but close enough. You are tired. Just not the type of tired that's going to be helped by the 12 hour nap you want to take. You try to force a smile but it feels awkward and it’s obviously not convincing from Ignis expression.

He sighs and cautiously shifts a little closer but you flinch away when he goes to stroke your hair. It's a dirty greasy mess and the thought of Ignis touching it fills you with disgust and embarrassment.

“Don’t.” His nostrils flare as he scents you and the surge of hatred for that invasion of privacy makes you feel physically sick. Nothing is ever just yours anymore.

“Talk to me love, I care about you.”

“Why?”

It's a choked sob and you angrily bite your lip in an effort to stop the tears.

“Because I love you.”

“Well you shouldn't.” It’s a snappy angry retort but he doesn’t flinch or pull away.

He reaches forward, gently brushing some of your hair away from your face. “Sit up.” You scowl but you do as he commands. He pulls your hair gently in to a ponytail, combing his finger slowly through it to ease the knots before tying it with a band.

“Have you eaten today?” You shake your head reluctantly. You hadn’t even got out of bed today let alone eaten or drunk anything. “Have you taken your medication?” His questions and attention are starting to irritate you. You just want to be left alone. “Love?” You shrug. You genuinely don’t remember. “I can take care of myself.” “Can you?” You don’t reply, annoyed at his patronizing, but probably correct assumption and instead lie back down and curl up into a tighter ball and try to ignore him. He sighs and entwines his fingers through yours despite your attempt to pull your hand away.

“I will go get you something to eat.”

You don’t want to eat but you want to be left alone so you nod. He looks almost sad, maybe disappointed and it feels you with a surge of guilt.

”Tell Noct I'm sorry”

“You have nothing to be sorry for love, but I will talk to him?”

It's a question and it surprises you for some reason.

You don't want him to know, it makes you feel pathetic. Ignis notices the way your thoughts have gone and links his fingers back through yours. “He'll understand.” He squeezes your hand on the last word and you look up at him. Noctis is the one most likely to understand you know that but it's still embarrassing.

“I won't tell him anything you don't want me to, just enough to ease his concerns.”

You nod reluctantly, but the thought that Noctis could genuinely be worried about you feels absurd. “Will you be safe on your own?” his gaze sweeps down your arm as he stands, you know what he’s looking for, what he’s thinking, and you feel irritated at yourself for having shared so much with him in the past. The frustration at his question is unfair, you know that but you still feel it.

“I’ll stay.” Gladio’s voice interrupts your reply. You watch with increasing exasperation as they talk quietly by the door, wishing they'd just go away before Ignis comes back to you. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to ignore his intense gaze. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and entwines his fingers back through yours. You crack open an eye when he doesn’t move away. He looks so concerned about you that you find yourself crying before you can stop yourself. “I’m sorry.” It’s half choked half sobbed from your throat. “You don’t need to be sorry” he repeats. He makes no move to come closer and you feel grateful for that. You don’t think you can handle too much affection without breaking down completely.

“Why do you put up with me?” you whisper, voice cracking. “I don’t do anything, I can’t fight, I can’t help with hunts, I just do nothing. I’m a burden.” “Love.” he sighs. “You are not a burden.” He kisses your palm. “You are a part of our pack. Our omega. Our mate.” He kisses you. “We love you.” “Why?” you sniffle. You can’t wrap your head around it. He wipes away your tears with a sad smile, “Because I do, because it’s you.” You’ve fooled him somehow, tricked him into loving you. Your stomach twists painfully.

“I won’t be long.” “Ok.” It’s a weak feeble reply but he doesn’t pull away from you, instead waits until you let go of his hand. You watch him leave, expecting him to go and not return now he’s seen what you are truly like until Gladio steps in front, blocking your view.

He stands next to your bed, arms crossed as he looks down at you. “Can I?”

You hesitate in answering and he takes that as a yes.

“Move over,” he says expectantly. Pushing his way into your bed and nudging you gently with his elbow when you don’t move.

You feel guilty that he’s having to stay with you, the urge to make it up to him is strong. You hook your leg over his and slide your calf over this crotch. He grunts in surprise and grabs your leg. “Relax baby.”

“You don't want to?” You're not surprised really, you probably don't look or smell very attractive right now but it still hurts. Why would he stay if you can't give him what he wants?

“Always, but we're napping right now.”

You don't believe him, and even though you don't even want to have sex you still feel the sting of rejection. He notices and presses a kiss to your forehead. Grabbing your wrist he tugs your hand to his crotch. “I'm always half hard for you omega.” And he is. You curl your hand around the bulge in his pants and squeeze tightly. His hips jerk forward and he chuckles pulling your hand away to rest on his chest. “No, don’t be naughty.”

You slump down on his chest, somewhat sullenly, still a little sore from his rejection.

You lose yourself in Gladio’s presence for a while, his heart beat strong and steady in your ear. “Wanna talk?”

“No, just cuddle.”

“I can do that.” He tightens his grip around you, pulling you until you are practically on top of him.

The self hatred comes back and you tense. You try to pull back but he tightens his hold.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm –“ Was he really going to make you say it?

“I'm heavy.” You mumble it into his chest.

“What?”

“Aren't I too heavy?”

“No you’re perfect.” he slides his hands down your sides to your ass. “I love every inch of you,” he continues his movements, gripping your thighs. “You know how much Prompto goes on about these thighs? Gets me jealous with the amount of marks he leaves on them.”

You want to cry. He freezes as your breath hitches.

“We can work on it if it's something you really want baby.” He says it hesitantly, quietly, like he's scared of upsetting you further. Linking his fingers with yours he tugs your hand to rest over his heart.

You don’t know if it is something you want, you can’t separate the dark voice in your head from the logical one. But he’s listening to you. He’s not dismissing you, and he’s definitely not ignoring you and it makes the tears run freely again. Youre not worth such care. His free hand is still wandering, soothing strokes that start at the nape of your neck, swirl down your spine to your ass and dip just barely under the hem of your shirt. It’s a soft gentle caress and even when his hands slip a little higher under your shirt there’s nothing but love and tenderness in his touch. “You’re sexy and you’re smart,” he kisses your thumb, “funny, kind,” he makes his way along your fingers with each word, a kiss pressed to the tip of each one. “brave, and my favourite kind of brat.” he nips at your pinky with the last word, before moving onto your other hand. His hands still when he hears you sniff. ”Want me to stop?”

You bury your face into his chest to hide your tears. “Yes,” you hiccup “No.”

He squeezes you tighter and lets your hand drop, resuming his touch down your back.

“and I like you on top of me,” he says his voice dropping to a low whisper “I love watching you ride me.”

His horniness is predictable, and you smile into his neck, and although it doesn't last long it is a genuine smile.

“I felt that.”

You feel him relax underneath you, he’s not purring but you feel grateful for that.

You're still tired, still sad but the heavy dark emptiness in your chest lessens slightly as you lay there and listen to Gladio’s heartbeat. You feel like you can breathe a little easier. You turn on to your side away from him and all though he looks apprehensive he lets you go.

You shift and squirm until you are comfortable on your front and reach behind you to pull Gladio’s arm across your back. He goes willingly, only resisting when you try to drag him on top of you. “The weight feels good. Please? It makes me feel,-“ It’s hard to describe how it makes you feel exactly, “…safe.” You finish quietly. He opens his mouth to reply and you beat him to it. “No talking, just squish.” His amused huff rustles your hair but he does as he’s told, draping himself over you until your half wedged under him and wrapped tight in his arms.

“I lo-“ “Don’t” you interrupt him quickly, with a surge of panic. You can’t hear that right now. “I’m- I cant. Not now.” You’re pretty sure you’re not making sense, that he’s not going to understand. “Ok.” It's murmured against your hair, a simple acknowledgment but it makes you feel better. “Can I touch you?” You nod and he slips his warm hand under your shirt to rest across your ribs just under your breasts, holding you snugly against him. It still doesn't sit quite right. His affection, his obvious care, still feels alien, wrong, like it’s meant for someone else. The feeling that you’ve tricked them into caring about you and your depressed mood still linger, and probably will for a while. But you’ve been through this before, you’ve made it through this before, and with the sound of Gladio’s steady breathing in your ear as he holds you, the heavy emptiness in your chest lessens a little bit more.

#ffxv #fanfiction #a/b/o universe #ffxv ignis #ffxv gladio

[pateldevs]

Hi! I hope I'm not bothering you, but I love your mood board edits and was wondering if you could explain how you go about making/colouring them? I see lots of places to find gifs but turning them into a set is so hard. Thank you in advance!

hi! first of all thank you so much and second of all it’s not a bother at all! i am happy to give some of my own tips even if my explanation probably isn’t super helpful. i won’t give like a ps tutorial but below the cut (since i included example gifs, it’s VERY long) is my process for my latest jily aesthetic:

i keep track of all my ideas/sets in a spreadsheet (which i won’t show bc there’s a lot of info i’d have to blur/black out) but i always have a list of what scenes i need to gif/what gifs i’m editing and where i’m getting them from. i also include a couple extra ideas in case the gifs i have planned end up being too hard to color or don’t fit in the set. i’ve found it’s best/easiest to start w the list bc there is literally nothing worse than spending hours on a set and then not being able to complete it.

as for actually finding the material, i have a pretty healthy number of scene packs saved in my giffing folder, esp. for things i know i will gif frequently. most of the time i will peruse youtube, vimeo, and instagram for any aesthetic scenes. i also have a lot of gif packs saved specifically for the purpose of making mbs (usually i mix my own gifs w gif packs), if you msg me i’m happy to direct you to some gif packs i use regularly or you can check my #resources tag. a couple tips for finding material: 

always opt for download when possible, i used to screen record and the difference when i switched to downloading was astronomical. (it’s easy to lose quality and esp if you’re on mac, quicktime duplicates frames so either you have to manually delete those extras or you get sort of choppy gifs when you load them into ps.)

always use 1080p or better, 720p will work in a pinch for 268px or 177px gifs since you can make up some of that resolution loss with sharpening, but don’t go any lower than that, just love yourself. 

for pale sets, look for the right colors. i tend to look for scenes w high color contrast especially if it features poc so it’s easier to color without whitewashing, ie if the subject is a person then i look for light colored or blue/green/violet/white backgrounds. it’ll make your life wayyyyy easier. this also means if you’re making a set try to find scenes with already similar lighting bc you won’t have to work so hard to make it look cohesive.

here’s a quick rundown of what i do before coloring:

import all frames and save all the files in a folder together!!

play around with frame delay so all the gifs are moving at about the same speed, usually keep it between 0.03-0.05s

crop and resize gifs (i use 268x145 most of the time)

convert to timeline

when it comes to coloring it can be really hit or miss, i’ve recently gotten back into my groove but i was having sooo much trouble earlier this year. in general, don’t stress yourself out!! sometimes it’s easier to just find a new scene/gif (hence my list of extras!) than to try too hard to fit a gif into your set. i color all my gifs by scratch (ie no psds) but i tend to follow the same pattern, i’ll explain using these gifs/psd as an example since then i can also explain how to fix white-washing:

first off when you’re coloring gifs with poc always always always make a layer mask so you can compare the edited and unedited skin tones directly! i use the marquee tool to make a selection in the middle of the character’s face, select the folder of my adjustment layers, and hit ‘add vector mask’ (the third button from the left on the layers panel, it’s a white rectangle with a circle in it). 

i almost always begin by using hue/saturation layers to highlight and delete certain colors. here i highlighted red and raised the lightness on yellow by a lot since it’s a very yellow scene. then i use a combination of brightness/contrast, levels, and curves layers to brighten the scene. here’s what i have now:

i add a gradient map set to black/white, change the blending to exclusion, and lower the opacity to between 5-10% (depending on the scene) to lighten the contrast further:

then i add back a little depth with selective color in neutrals and blacks:

now i have two main goals: 1. add contrast between the background and the subject, and 2. brighten the scene into a pale gif. to do this, i use color balance to tweak the color of the background, taking out the yellows. this step works best if there’s at least some shade difference between your subject and background, otherwise isolating the two will be impossible. here’s what i have after adding color balance:

i use hue/saturation to selectively highlight the background color. in this case i chose to adjust magenta and used the color picker (the first eyedropper on the left) to identify the exact shade i wanted to lighten. now i have a fairly neutral background and a colorful subject, which gives a sort of pale effect:

and now i use a curves layer and a selective color (white) layer to brighten further:

before i go further, i start fixing white-washing. keep in mind that some variance is normal since you are naturally changing the lighting of the scene; this gif shows it rlly clearly bc of how yellow and dim the lighting is, so some lightening is to be expected. however, both because the vector mask shows a lot of whitening and because i’ve giffed dev patel before and have a general idea of what he looks like in this type of lighting, i know what needs to be fixed, so i go back in under the psd/adjustment layers with a combination of selective color (red and neutral) and hue/saturation layers to darken his skin again:

now that some more contrast has been added in, i can go back to working on the psd and use curves and selective color to play around with the background again:

i use another hue/saturation layer and a black/white gradient to tone down oversaturation:

usually i leave those layers on top, so if i want to make any adjustments (like lightening the background more), i go in under those two. in this case i tweaked the whites and reduced the contrast a little to get this:

again, you can see his skin tone has changed from the original, but variation is to be expected given how much brighter the room is, the fact that i took out a lot of yellow lighting, and the brightening effect of the computer screen in front of him. some other things to keep in mind when coloring:

when you add layers to correct white-washing, you’re likely to end up with overly red/orange skin tones (red-washing). this can be fixed by upping cyans in the reds, desaturating/darkening the reds, or adding b/w or desaturation later on.

when in doubt, it’s better to be darker than lighter (the issue with white-washing is that it promotes colorism, and there is nothing inherently wrong with a darker skin tone) but really. just put in the effort to color poc correctly.

when changing the lighting a lot it helps to look at pictures of the subject in natural/bright lighting, since you get a better idea of what their normal skin tone is. 

don’t try to squeeze all your selective color layers into one. you’ll get less grainy gifs if you separate them out and work one by one. 

TURN OFF NIGHT SHIFT/NIGHT MODE! yes i KNOW it’s bad for your eyes (especially if you’re like me and gif at night, when the lighting outside isn’t changing every 20 seconds) but your gifs will look VERY different under f.lux or night mode compared to daytime screens. especially if you’re giffing at different times of day, blue light filters can really change the way your coloring appears. best to keep it consistent.

my sharpening settings vary depending on what i’m giffing but in general i do two layers of smart sharpen (500% with radius between 0.2-0.4, 10% with radius at 10px) and then gaussian blur at 2.5px and adjust the opacity so it’s somewhere between 15-20%. i try to strike a balance between smoothing out the graininess from selective color, and sharpening details like clothes and hair. here’s what i ended up with for the gif above:

then i rinse and repeat for the rest of the gifs in the set! i tend to start with the gifs that i know will be hardest to color, which is usually the darker ones (coloring is limited by how much i can brighten the scene) and those that include poc (again, limited by how much i can brighten and adjust the scene’s lighting without white-washing). then i check set cohesion as i go, using those first few gifs as benchmarks. once i have all 8 (or 9 or 10) gifs, i play around with composition and try to balance and vary the subject, colors, and composition of gifs next to each other. i go back and make a couple of adjustments here and there according to what i observe and what i think might improve the overall appearance.

and that’s pretty much it! i hope this was helpful, if you have other questions feel free to message me and i’d be happy to help/troubleshoot. happy giffing!

#Anonymous #* #resources #answered #sorry this was sO long but i hope it helped on the coloring end #tbh i exceeded my own expectations with the dev gif lol #yeahps #completeresources #chaoticresources #tutorial #coloring tutorial

[artstorieshusbandos]

Tale of Two Tragedies-Theo's route (Ikemen Vampire) **spoilers**

Tragedy #1 Exhibit A

I honestly half expected him to haul off and draw a masterpiece in the tavern notebook. Not because he's a Van Gogh but because there's almost no way someone with his appreciation for art , his eye for it and his hardcore determination wouldn't have managed to at least be drawing on the side for enjoyment.

This scene would have gone down a little differently if I had actually been in MC's place. MC, it seems, doesn't do art. I've been at least scribbling since I was a kid that figured out I could rub the paint off my toys onto the wall. I would not have noticed the notebook on the counter, but ever since we left the private gallery earlier I'd been dying to ask him if he'd ever done any art. I daydreamed about asking while I was waiting for my tickets to replenish Why?

This isn't the voice of someone who doesn't want to do art.

Usually when someone tells me they can't draw I find out one of 3 things. They either don't really want to draw or at least they have other things they'd much rather put their time into which is fair. They actually can draw but have fallen into the trap of undervaluing their own work which may or may not be a result of comparing their work to the work of others. Then there's the third crowd that has the desire to do it, puts in the time but can't get anywhere because they are trying to draw from their left brain.

What am I talking about? I'm sure you may have heard that our brains have two halves and that the left half is connected to logic, mathematics, language, symbolism, ect, and the right brain is associated with imagination, creativity, music, spatial relations, distances, ect. Most of us don't know how that actually relates to someone's ability to draw or paint. The truth is art is something all humans can do to some degree. How good you manage to get is one part the desire to do it, one part putting in the practice and one part how well you can get your left brain to give over control to the right brain.

Vincent and Theo are such wonderful examples of what I'm getting at here with the whole left brain/right brain thing. Vincent is right brain dominant and I know this not because he's a talented artist but because it's a fact that Vincent Van Gogh is left handed. Our dominant hands are opposite our dominant brains. Theo is clearly left brain dominant not only because we can see it in his organizational and business skills we can see how he's talking in the second image where he's trying to draw King. He's thinking about drawing fur and eyes and the components of the dog not the forms. The parts are all named and labeled....this is left brain thinking. Compare it to how he talks when he is observing paintings and pushing the technical aside to just let it speak to him. This is the mode he needs to be in to create but he's trying to attack it with his stronger mode which is his left brain mode. It doesn't matter how much you practice if you are practicing the wrong thing.

The other pitfall he's hit is comparing himself to Vincent. As an artist never ever ever ever compare yourself to anyone but the you from yesterday. There will always be someone "better" than you and "better" will always be subjective. Vincent got a head start being right brained. When his brain reaches for it's stronger side it's going to pull from the correct one automatically.

Maybe at this point you're wondering why I spent so much time analyzing a fictional character in this manner? Honestly it breaks my heart to see him like this and though I know he's fictional I also know there are many many Theo's in this world who have given up because they don't know what's holding them back or that it can be conquered. I wrote this for them.

If this is you and you'd like to see what you're truly capable of do this one really easy exercise. Find a picture of something you'd like to draw. Draw it as best you can. If all you can do is draw a stick then draw that stick. Then take that same image and flip it upside down and draw it again. The reason for doing this is to force the left brain to let the right brain work. The left brain doesn't like to work with anything it can't define and slap a label on. When you flip the image upside down it makes it so the left brain can't properly identify the subject. It has no choice but to shut up and let the right brain work. Compare your two drawings. I was astonished the first time I did this. I no longer have my original upright drawing from the first time I tried this technique but I do have the first drawing I ever did upside down. Here it is.

Granted I had been drawing for years upright already but if you need a point of reference as to where I was in my skill when I started training my left brain to sit down here's another drawing from the same year.

Quite a bit of technical difference.

If this exercise worked for you and you're interested in learning more about how to train your brain for better art this is the book that taught me.

I recommend this book to any artist that hasn't read it. It's been the biggest help I've ever gotten on my journey. I don't know if Amazon is the best place to get a copy or not I didn't price match I just put up the first link I came to so you might want to shop around.

Tragedy #2 Exhibit B

Here is one of the last pieces I completed.

It was done in 2012. That's right.....it's been damn near a decade since I've turned out a completed art piece. It would probably break Theo's heart even more to know that there are people out here like me that have talent and aren't using it while he would love to do it and can't seem to. In fact he'd probably dump my ass if we were actually dating before he found out. I felt guilty before but now it's guilt x 1000. Are any of you out there in the same boat as me? Anyone out there that managed to get out of the rut that might have some tips for me? Maybe I should take some requests? What would you all like to see me draw?

Also if you're interested in seeing more of my stuff my gallery is collecting dust here

Theo has everything he needs to be a great artist. He has the eye for aesthetics, he has the desire and commits himself to everything. In his time psychology is in it's infancy. He doesn't even know yet what he doesn't know. If I was wrong about this and he still couldn't draw after a few training sessions I guess I'd have to start making him paint by number kits. He can pick the subject and the colors I'll map out the design and we'll do it together.

#ikemen vampire #theo #theo's route #artistic talent #spoilers #Art The Universe And Everything

[izziegs]

Okay so TMA 187 analysis here, a bit more “Jon’s judgment of Helen was not entirely correct” from another Spiral fan

1. I think Jon’s analysis of Helen is (ha ha) distorted by A) his desire to justify her death despite her friendliness, and B) automatically made untrustworthy by the fact that Jon has never understood the Distortion. Helen has expressed before that him Knowing things about her is not the same as Understanding things, and he’s made it very clear before that he does not Understand (MD and HD are fusions, essentially. Combinations of the Spiral’s manifestation: the Distortion, and a human. In the same way Garnet is a combo of Ruby and Sapphire but not truly either of them, Helen Distortion has Helen Richardson in her, but is not actually Helen Richardson. She is both Helen and not, and was never Michael, though the Distortion was. Honestly, Jon, it’s not complicated)

2. We even saw this with Michael - I can’t forget that Jon assumed the Distortion was just a manifestation of the Spiral, not an avatar, and he seemed to take the revelation that Michael Shelley was an assistant as a sort of...betrayal, almost? Something that definitely threw off his idea of good-bad, where even though avatars could be bad their humanity kept them from becoming as monstrous as Michael, and the sudden shock of hearing otherwise, of seeing what he could become...I don’t think he ever bounced back from that.

3. Jon has always seen the worst in Helen. In 115, she came back to him for emotional help/venting/advice/connection and he lashed out at her, scared of seeing her become like Michael, still sore from betrayal from the Stranger, etc. From the get-go he decided this was just a Thing using Helen’s face, and even when she immediately told him otherwise, he rejected it. (“I don’t believe you” - “I have never told you a lie”) He chalked her vulnerability up to manipulation, and has never truly turned his view of her away from that initial assessment

4. 131 shows a lot of the same (“You’re still wearing her face” - “I’m not ‘wearing’ anything”) This episode Helen deliberately pushes against Jon’s desire to neatly separate them into bad and good, something Melanie pulls them away from to refocus on Jared

5. 143 doesn’t have them fight quite as much, though Jon does still seem very suspicious. Helen just shows up to eat Manuela and give Jon and Basira a door home

6. 157 - aka the day Jon uses as justification he was right Helen was never on his side even though it is One Thing. They’ve met four times prior to this and he’s been mean to her every time. I can understand her abstaining from helping him, especially when she thinks the end result will help her, and double especially when helping Jon would put her directly on the bad side of two very powerful avatars (Also, as Helen said, “If that makes it my fault, then surely this is Georgie’s fault as well, and Melanie’s-”. AFAIK, he’s not upholding that as proof those two are bad and against him)

7. Post-apocalypse, Helen tries to give Jon the advice he refused to give her. When she was fully accepting her avatar status, she just wanted someone she thought could help her, and now she’s trying to be that person for Jon. Hearing her later desire to keep the world as is, it would also make sense that she might’ve been trying to get him to agree with her, however, unlikely, so they could continue “helping” each other/wouldn’t have to have that inevitable fight. Something else notable about her in the Eye’s world: she forces Jon to stop withholding info from Martin. She forces them to talk about difficult topics (Smiting powers, where’s Basira/how is she, Martin’s domain) and had essentially become a more reliable source of info than Jon is. While her popping up was beneficial to Martin, it was annoying to Jon, and possibly also part of why he continued not liking her.

8. Now all of that, looking at 187: Again, Jon very quickly establishes that he doesn’t understand how Helen works (“I am not [Michael], and never have been. Surely you know all this by now”) and then explicitly says he is currently making judgments based on feeling instead of logic (which is not a new development, looking at his choices since The Eye Opens). 

Here I’m going to go over a few of his specific lines from 187:

“Now you use her form, see her mind, but they’re just… tools.” - If that were true, there’d be no reason Helen would act completely differently than Michael did. If this were just a monster using a human’s mind for manipulation advice, why have a totally new personality? Helen is Helen, but Jon’s still stuck in his season 3 mindset

“Michael had nothing you could use but a razor-straight desire for vengeance, but you saw something in Helen that would work on me much more subtly. So you took her” - Bold of Jon to assume Helen taking over the Distortion was that influenced by him, lol. If the Distortion wanted you done for Jonathan, they’d have just kept Michael and let him eat you like he planned. Not everything’s about you.

“How long have you been working with Elias?” - This one is interesting because if he knows everything, he should’ve known whether or not Helen knew Elias (unless he assumed she could get into the Panopticon where he can’t see). Michael knew Elias, pre-Distortion, but Helen’s not talked to him. Jon didn’t think Jude Perry was working for Elias, despite her clear revelry in the new world. I think it’s weird he assumed that about Helen (unless he was also using that to justify her death)

Her commentary during his statement is funny, but interesting. The perfect time to attack him if she really wanted to, if she really had been building up to that like he thought she was, and she spends the time joking about him and Martin living in a Honeymoon Suite in her apocalypse hotel

“Is a friendship true, or is it reaching out with hands that cut you?” - Another interesting line to me because when Michael told Sasha he wanted to be her friend he deliberately manipulated his hand so that he could hold her hand without cutting her

“You worked to hurt us and help us, all with the same smile, until we can barely tell one from the other” - I think Jon is talking about Michael and Helen as one person in this part, but specifically with Helen she literally didn’t hurt you Jon she had one time she didn’t help 

“Never quite crossing a line we could never forgive, but never putting yourself on the line either.” - Yeah, Jon, that’s what most people would do, tbh. It’s not unforgivable that she didn’t put her life on the line to help someone who has only ever been mean to her. Actually, she helped him more than most people would if treated that way

“It’s not me I’m worried about” - Another interesting line because even as he’s killing her, Helen’s final threat is to hold him in the halls until the End eventually gets his friends. She never threatens to harm any of them (because they’re her friends) - Edit: I can see how it could be interpreted as her threatening them buttt idk if she can kill them in the new world so I assumed it was End related. Still no empty threats, no real lies from her yet - Also, I think she genuinely does not want to kill Martin or Jon, she wants them to turn so they can all be friends without those messy ~moral hangups~

“If you do this, everyone inside me is dead!” - I wonder if this is true. I can’t tell if Jon was the only one that fell out of the halls in front of Martin. It’s not like the other domains, where taking the avatar in charge may usher in a new one. The Distortion was Helen. If this sentence is true, then Jon just murdered that mom and very possibly orphaned that five-year-old. Not just gonna brush that one off there

“Its hidden teeth and the ones it wears so proudly.” - Even in the end Jon still Doesn’t Get It. He still thinks the Distortion is pretending to be Helen. Was pretending to be Michael. As much as he should be an all-knowing being, he clearly still rejects what he doesn’t like

I don’t have a specific quote but Jon acting like the Distortion has had a constant motivation or like, consistent desire (outside of “cause problems for fun”) is wild because Michael explicitly told Jon he didn’t want the Watcher’s Crown to happen. Michael was going to kill Jon to stop it. He was on the exact side Jon is on right now. But I guess it’s easy for Jon to paint him as evil when the roles were revered, huh?

If you’re still reading this, uh. Hi. I really really like the Distortion (Michael and Helen) and I am Very Upset with Jon right now

Edit: This is not an argument on whether or not Helen was evil or if Jon was right to kill her too to save the world. She was absolutely evil and I can see why Jon felt her death was necessary I'm just saying he was wrong about her lying to him

#tma #the magnus archives #helen richardson #helen distortion #michael shelley #michael distortion #jon sims #tma 187 #tma spoilers #this is 1400 words of me analyzing every Helen appearance ever

[sunsetcurbed]

every piece of you (it just fits perfectly)

Words: 4,139 Rating: G Warnings: none read on AO3 

Summary:  Ray Molina doesn’t really think much can catch him off guard.

Correction: he didn’t think much could catch him off guard.

When Julie’s hidden away in the studio, ignoring texts from him trying to get her to come in for dinner, he figures out quickly that he’s going to have to go out and pull her away from her writing. Except, well, when he does go out there, she’s not writing. She’s sleeping.

And see, that wouldn’t be an issue, but she’s—

Ray rubs his eyes and squints into the fading light of the room.

Yeah, his daughter is floating.

(*)

(or: 5+1 of Ray slowly coming to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, carlos was on to something with that whole ‘ghost’ thing.)

(1)

Ray Molina is a calm, collected person. He prides himself on that. He knows that it makes him a better parent, and when Rose was alive, it made him a better husband. His patience makes him better at his job, both in capturing and editing, and his gentleness gave him skills to handle every subject. He's levelheaded and thinks he's pretty adaptable, and he's flexible with what life throws him. It's how he was able to make so many adjustments for his daughter once Rose passed away, and how he was able to keep his emotions in check as he did so.

So, Ray Molina doesn't really think much can catch him off guard.

Correction: he didn't think much could catch him off guard.

When Julie's hidden away in the studio, ignoring texts from him trying to get her to come in for dinner, he figures out quickly that he's going to have to go out and pull her away from her writing. Except, well, when he does go out there, she's not writing. She's sleeping.

And see, that wouldn't be an issue, but she's—

Ray rubs his eyes and squints into the fading light of the room.

Yeah, his daughter is floating.

She's laying down, but she's hovering several inches above the couch, simply suspended in air.

And, well. That definitely catches him off guard.

He walks over to the couch skeptically and then sticks his hand beneath his daughter's body and—

Nothing.

He steps back, tilting his head at the couch and his daughter, ready to call her name when she startles awake, shoving off of the air that she's floating on to lift her torso. She blinks down at the pillow and her hand slips on—Ray's not sure what it slips on, but she goes tumbling back down to the same position she was in before and gasps. "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Julie says in a rush, looking at the bare space between her and the couch. She turns and curls her legs up and shifts so she's sitting now, still staring at the pillow in concern.

"Is who okay?" Ray asks.

Julie's head snaps to him and she drops her jaw. "Dad! I—what are you doing out here?"

"You weren't answering your phone," he tells her. He looks at how she's sitting now, and she's still floating. "Can you tell me why you're not touching the couch?"

"Uh—" Julie's eyes widen and she scrambles forward so quickly that she goes tumbling to the floor. "Oh," she says, reaching back to rub at her tailbone. She's quiet for a moment and then she shakes her head. "I'm fine, Lu—dad. Not that you asked, but I assumed you were going to, and I'm fine."

"That was quite a tumble," he says, ready to get back on point, about how she was literally hanging in mid air less than a minute ago, but she's hopping up and walking towards the door before he can even get a word out.

"So what's for dinner?"

Ray sends one more look to the couch before following his daughter from the room. They can talk about it later.

(2)

They still haven't talked about it the next time something… different… happens.

It's almost a week later when Ray gets home. He calls out a hello and hears Carlos call back, but there's silence on Julie's end. The lights in the studio had been out, though, so she must be inside. He climbs the stairs after setting his camera bag down. He stops first at Carlos' room, waving in at his son who's playing a video game on his Switch, and then he carries on further down the hall until he's at Julie's door. The door is wide open, resting against her back wall, so it's easy to peak in and see her lying on her bed, facing him. That's totally normal, but—well.

She's laying on her side with her arm tossed around… something. The air. Her arm is curled around the empty air to her right, and her fist is curled, looking like she's holding on to something. But she's not. Even with the spaces between her fingers, he can tell that there's nothing in her hand, even though it clearly looks like she's clutching someone's hand.

"Julie?" he calls into the room, hoping to prevent her from falling off her bed like she had the couch. "Mija?"

"Mmm?" Julie mumbles in her sleep. She curls tighter into the air and brings her hand closer to her face, still holding on to nothing.

"Julie," he says again, louder.

"Yeah, Dad?" she says back, and then stiffens. Her hand uncurls itself from around the air and she shoots up into a seated position. "Sorry," she gasps. "I know I was supposed to be watching Carlos, but I was up late studying—"

"It's fine, mija," Ray tells her. "He's about old enough to watch himself sometimes."

"Right," she nods, looking over at her pillow. Ray looks back to and—it moves.

Her pillow shifted on its own, right in front of his eyes. Her entire bed is shifting, as if there's someone else in it changing their position. "Julie—"

"How was the wedding?" she cuts him off. Her eyes flick to her left, shooting a glare at open air, before settling back on him with an open expression.

Ray sighs. There's that opportunity gone. "It was great. Very beautiful, the grooms were both more than happy to follow all my directions, so better than the last one I was at where the bride thought she knew better than me."

"That's great!" Julie says. "Tía brought over some chicken earlier, so that's down in the fridge if you want to heat it up."

"I'll… go do that," Ray nods. He turns on his heel and starts down the hall when he hears a harsh whisper from Julie's room. He can't hear a word that she says, but he can tell that it's meant to be a scolding. He freezes and turns back to her room. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"Oh! No, I was just yelling at my phone," she lies quickly, and he knows it's a lie because her phone is sitting three feet away from her on the edge of her bed.

"Alright," Ray says. "I'll be down stairs if you need me."

(3)

It keeps happening, and he keeps not being able to bring it up before Julie completely changes the subject. It's clearly something that she's not ready to talk about so he's trying to respect it, or maybe she isn't even aware that it's happening. She's hardly in control of her body when she's asleep, maybe it's—

He doesn't know what it could be. He doesn't even have a clue.

He remembers watching horror movies with Rose when they were younger, and all he can think about is the random possession that would cause a person or object to randomly float on its own. That's thrown out the window though because a) there's no such thing as possession and b) even if there were, his daughter is not possessed. But there's genuinely no other explanation that he can think of for how Julie managed to float.

About a month out from the first occurrence, he's starting to calm down. It hasn't happened again, not that he's seen at least, and he's starting to think that maybe it was all his imagination. Of course he vividly remembers the feeling of wrongness he got when he had waved his hand under Julie when she had been sleeping on—well, above—the couch, but. Stress could do that to a person, right?

So, it's all okay. Ray has just been dealing with excess amounts of stress and that's led to… hallucinations? Or something along those lines, anyways.

He's sure of that until he comes down stairs at two am one Saturday night and sees flashes of light from the TV in the living room. Thinking that Julie must have left it on before she went up to bed by accident, he holds out for his glass of water and turns to the living room. He freezes in the entryway.

Julie is fast asleep on the couch, facing the backrest, which, could be normal if it weren't for the fact that she's half way off the couch and some how not falling off. It's like she's got a hook connecting her to the back of the couch, holding her in place as she sleeps.

He makes his way over to her, reaching for the remote that's sitting on the coffee table. He hesitates turning it off, needing the light to see what exactly is going on. He bends over and studies the area between Julie and the back of the couch. Again, Julie's hand is resting in midair, but this time it's not curled around anything. Her hand is just laying flat on the air in front of her. Curious, he reaches out to poke it, but it doesn't budge, instead stays floating in the exact same space it had been.

Okay, not what he was expecting.

He's not exactly sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. It's too hard to ignore now that something is going on, but he has absolutely zero guesses as to what it might be. There's something solid there for Julie, but—

Double checking, Ray waves his hand behind Julie's hand. It passes through the air easily.

—it doesn't exist to Ray or, he suspects, anyone else.

Is her unconscious mind that powerful that it's controlling her muscles and keeping them in one place even against an outside force? Is—he can't believe he's thinking this—is it something supernatural? Carlos has been going on about ghosts, and even Julie had said she'd seen a ghost in the studio.

He blinks.

The studio. That's where it happened the first time.

Could ghosts move that easily? He always thought they were stuck haunting the place they died. But there hadn't been any deaths in the studio, not that he knew of. It's not like there's concrete rules to ghosts, as everything before has just been made up. Even these thoughts are ridiculous because it's all been made up, he's sure of it. There's a plenty reasonable explanation waiting for him.

Just… in the morning.

He turns away from his daughter and clicks the TV off and goes to get his glass of water.

He'll talk to her about it in the morning.

(4)

They don't talk about it in the morning, and Ray isn't even sure why he's surprised. This subject seems to be evading him in every way possible and while they need to discuss it, he's not entirely sure how to even bring it up, not unless it's actively happening.

So, that's his plan.

Wait for it to happen again and then confront her immediately. Don't give her the opportunity to change the subject or brush it off, but actually have a sit down conversation and discuss why his daughter can lay on air. And cuddle air. And hold air. And be held by air, too, really.

So, that is his plan. It just… doesn't go according to plan.

The next time something happens, he's looking out the window at Julie walking up the walkway from the studio. It's dinnertime and he was debating going to get her after he got no response to his text, but then out of the window he saw the studio door open and shut. He watches her make her way up the driveway and then the walkway, just taking the opportunity to see his daughter, calm and content. The only thing is, she's not calm. She's bouncing around, talking to the air and grabbing at it, too. On the middle step, she turns and laughs at something, and then—

She's floating again.

Her arms are wrapped around nothing, almost like she's hugging someone, but that someone isn't there. Her feet are dangling off the ground, hanging down like someone is holding her up.

Ray blinks, looks back to make sure Carlos isn't near, and then looks back out the window. She's swaying side to side in midair now, and he'd think this is an excited hug from someone who can't contain themselves from swinging her around if there was anyone there. But there's not. There's definitely not, and there's still no one there even as Julie is lowered back to the ground slowly. She stands there for a moment before she starts laughing again, head thrown back in joy. He's missed seeing her laugh like that, missed seeing her so full of mirth and contentment.

It's just—listen, it's really unsettling, okay?

Of course he's happy that she's happy, but he doesn't know what she's happy about. And she definitely wasn't asleep this time, so clearly she knows about this… thing that's happening. She had appeared to have known about it the first time as well, what with the staring at the pillow. The second time, too, with the annoyed glare at nothing and then the furious whispering after he left. He's willing to bet she knew about the third instance as well, even if he didn't get any proof of that.

This, however… there's no denying that something is going on.

Before he can decide what he's going to do, Carlos comes running down the stairs and into the kitchen, and Ray has to turn away from the window to keep his son's curiosity from piquing. "Hey, you," Ray says, snapping his fingers at Carlos. "Silverware, please."

"Got it!" he cries, and when Ray looks back out the window, Julie is gone from sight. He hears the front door opening moments later, and busies himself with setting their plates down.

Tomorrow, for sure.

(5)

Ray gets home from work, set on talking to Julie about the occurrences, only to be met with yet another. She's yelling when he opens the door, clearly not having heard him. Carlos is with Victoria at baseball practice, so Julie has had the house to herself since she got home from school almost two hours ago. Of course it makes sense that she'd mess around, but this—

"Luke, stop!" she yells, a twinge of frustration there, but that's mostly drown out by the laughter in her voice. "Reggie, Alex, make him stop!"

There's no reply, but as Ray rounds the corner, he can see his daughter's feet off the ground again, her back curled into something behind her. It looks like someone is lifting her up from behind.

"I did give it to you!" she laughs, hands reaching down to pry at the air around her waist. Her feet meet the floor again and she spins around, smacking the air. Another moment and she whirls back around. "Shut up, at least you can see both of us—I have to listen to you moon over Willie when I can't even see him," she says, and it sounds like she's complaining. "Besides, we all have to listen to Reggie flirt with everyone who crosses his path." More silence. "I know, we still love you, Reg."

Ray blinks.

He stands there for a long minute, listening to Julie bicker with the air, until—

"No, I don't think—what?" Julie freezes and spins around to face him, finally. "Dad!"

Ray tries to smile, but he thinks it comes out as more of a grimace than anything else. "Hi," he says.

"How long have you been here?"

"I see you learned how to levitate."

"Oh my god," Julie breathes out. "I can—I can… explain?"

"I sure hope you can because I'm not letting you get away without an answer again," he nods, setting his bag down finally. "So—care to explain?"

It's silent for a long moment, and then Julie looks up over her shoulder, as if someone is standing right behind her and talking into her ear. "Right, you're right," she sighs. "Dad, can we do this in the studio? It'll make a lot more sense out there."

He narrows his eyes. "Fine. But as soon as we get out there, you're talking."

(+1)

Ray Molina is calm, collected, patient, gentle, levelheaded, and adaptable, yes.

But he feels none of those things right now.

Not as he follows his daughter out to the studio where he'd first caught this phenomenon. Certainly not as she opens one door but doesn't touch the other, yet the door swings open on its own. Definitely not as she bursts into laughter at nothing, and turns to her right to make a snippy comment of "you really think he'll appreciate that?"

"Appreciate what?" Ray demands.

"Right," Julie says, walking over to her keyboard. "Dad, look around the room."

"Why am I doing that?"

"To see that there's no projectors in here."

That's not what he was expecting her to say. "What do projectors—"

"Dad," she says, voice firm. "Look around the room."

So he does, looking in every corner of the ceiling and along every wall to see that there's no projector. "Okay," he nods. "There's no projector."

"Now," she says, sitting down at her keyboard and turning it on, "just know that I didn't tell you because I was worried you'd send me back to Dr. Turner."

"Tell me what exactly?"

Julie sighs, and looks over at the empty space in the studio. She nods once at the air, and then plays a chord on her keyboard.

"Julie, I don't know what you think you're doing—"

He doesn't get to say anything further as her entire band materializes in the middle of the studio, instruments and all. He drops his jaw and looks frantically around for where the projector is hidden, coming up short no matter where his eyes land.

"You're not going to find it," the guitarist says. "It's why Julie asked you to look before she started playing."

Right. Ray doesn't think the holograms are supposed to be able to interact with him. There's no way they'd be able to see him, let alone know what he was going to do, so—

"Julie?" he says, voice edging into a panic.

"Meet the band," she says. She nods at the guitarist. "That's Luke." Then to the drummer. "Alex." And then the bassist. "And Reggie is your bud."

"Hi, Ray!" Reggie grins excitedly, and Ray imagines he'd be waving if it weren't for the fact that he was still playing bass.

"They're my phantoms," Julie finishes.

"Yes, Julie, I know," Ray says. "But how are they—"

"Dad," she cuts him off. "They're my phantoms."

"She means her ghosts," Alex says from behind his drums. "But 'Julie and the Ghosts' didn't sound as catchy."

"Is Carlos in on this, too?" Ray demands, looking at Julie.

Julie frowns. "You mean does he know about them? Yeah, that's what he wanted to talk to me about after the Orpheum."

"I think he still doesn't believe us," Luke tells her.

"I don't," Ray immediately jumps in. "There's no such thing as—"

Luke takes a step forward and drops his guitar. He bends down and picks up the coffee cup that's sitting on the coffee table in front of Ray. "Would a hologram be able to do that?"

"Luke," Reggie huffs as Luke sets the glass back down and picks his guitar back up to start playing again, "give the man some time, this is a very stressful situation to be in. We all remember how Julie reacted."

"Hey!" Julie frowns. "You promised not to bring that up again."

Reggie's eyes go wide. "I mean—we all remember how Flynn reacted."

"Flynn?" Ray asks. "What does she have to do with this?"

"Oh, she totally freaked when Julie showed her who we actually were," Alex says.

"Goggle Sunset Curve," Reggie calls.

"It's Google," Julie rolls her eyes. "But yeah, that's not a bad idea. Dad, do you have your phone?"

Hesitantly, Ray reaches for his pocket. He unlocks his phone and swipes over to find the internet app, and then opens Google. He types in 'sunset curve' to the search bar and frowns at the title of the first link. Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Tragedy. He clicks on it before he can think better of it, and after the page loads, he finds four boys staring at him from his screen. Three of which are also staring at him from ten feet away. He frowns. "Julie?"

"Before you and mom bought this house, the people that lived her let Sunset Curve use the studio as theirs. They're connected to this place. After twenty-five years of being stuck between the living world and the dead, they showed up here the night I first came in to clean it out. I wasn't lying to you when I said I'd seen a something. People can hear them when they play, but they can only see them when they play with me."

"It's rad," Luke says, "but Julie can see us all the time. And as of a few months ago, she can actually touch us, too."

"Ay, dios mío," Ray murmurs, looking back down and staring at his phone screen once more. "Ghosts."

"Yeah, it's pretty sick," Reggie grins.

"So—you're not cuddling air, you're cuddling a ghost?"

Julie's jaw drops, and her eyes flick to Luke in panic. Luke looks back at her and shrugs helplessly. She stares him down for another few seconds and quirks an eyebrow. Luke nods. It's an entire language that they'd developed together, being able to speak without speaking. Ray thinks he knows what she's going to say before she says it.

"I know this isn't exactly traditional, but Dad… meet my boyfriend?"

"I should have saved that 'ay, dios mío' for this," Ray murmurs. He crouches forward and rests his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands. "You're dating a ghost?"

"So is Alex!" she throws in, her voice defensive.

"I am a ghost!" Alex throws back. "It makes sense for me."

"I mean, it makes sense for Jules and Luke, too," Reggie points out. "They oo—"

"Don't say it," Alex glares.

"—ze chemistry," Reggie finishes with a triumphant look at his drummer.

"Guys," Julie huffs. All of them straighten up and look to her. She shakes her head at Reggie and Alex. Luke moves nearer to the piano as he plays and she looks to him with a soft look in her eye. He murmurs something to her and she breaks into a toothy smile. She shakes her head at him but doesn't lose the affection in her eyes. Ray feels uncomfortable watching, and shifts in his seat and looks away.

"Yeah, we feel the same," Reggie says. "And we have to see them all the time. They're good together, though."

He thinks they must be. Julie hasn't been this happy since before Rose's diagnosis, maybe even longer. He can tell that she's safe with Luke, and that she feels safe with him. With all of the guys, really. She looks at all of them like they're the best thing she's ever seen, like they're the reason she still gets up every day. And, well, they are, he realizes. The timing, he's worked out, is that she played the morning after she met them. Something about these boys pushed his daughter back to her passion and they're the reason that she got back into the music program. They're the reason for a lot of things, he assumes.

He doesn't understand it. He can't fathom it right now, even with all the proof sitting in front of him, but he knows once he processes this, his world will be changed for good. It already is, even though he hasn't full accepted this new reality. But he's not upset about it. How could he be? This was out of Julie's control, everything from their presence to her relationship with Luke. He knows she didn't plan on any of this, but it's here and happening, and the only thing he can do now is adjust.

He looks over to Julie, where she's looking at him with hope in her eyes, and he can't do anything but smile. This earns him a beaming smile in return, one that lights up her eyes in a way he hasn't seen off the stage for… years, probably. He wants nothing more than to keep that smile on her face, so he looks around the room once more and nods at each boy individually.

"Welcome to the family."

(+1.5)

When he finds Julie asleep, hovering over the down stairs couch the next day, he smiles.

"Thank you, Luke."

A cup on the table lifts and raises, tilting in acknowledgement.

He'll get used to it.

#juke fic #jatp fic #juke fanfic #luke patterson x julie molina #juke #palina #my writing

[popculturebuffet]

The Legend of the Three Caballeros: Dope-A-Cabana Review (Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Salduos Amigos! Since i’m covering a full series, i’d like to welcome any newcomers to the first part of the epic final stretch of THE RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS! For those of you just joining us, a few months back WeirdKev27, easily my biggest supporter as the only one who comissions any reviews from me, asked if I could do a big project for him: a comission of EVERY major american apperance of those three happy chappies in matching serapes. Give i’ve ALWAYS loved the boys ever since house of mouse and had been sitting on Legend of the Three Cablleros for far too long, more on that in a minute obviously, I happily agreed. Plus the rather nice influx of cash from the comissions was very welcome. If your intrested in comissioning your own, hit me up via my direct messages. It’s 5 dolalrs an episode, though I do do discounts on orders of 3 or more, and 10 for a movie, with again discounts for orders of more than one. And yes that plug was very shamless, but again I have no other job than this.  Back to the point these reviews have taken me on a wonderful journey: I got to rewatch the movie and revel in the fun songs, acid trips and super horny Donald Duck, got to both revisit one of Don Rosa’s best story and read another all time classic from the man I hadn’t before, took a trip back to the house of mouse to hear some great songs and see some great cartoons.. and some not so great ones, took a small detour to Mickey and The Roadster Racers to be baffled and annoyed though I am proud to say it was my first review back after I came down with Cornovirus and lost a week of work time. And finally I covered the town where everyone was nice, and got to see the boys have a joyous reunion with Donald and be lushly animated while.. Dewey jackassed around in a B-Plot and Webby resisted the urge to throat chop him. It’s been a long ride and you can find all of it is so far RIGHT HERE IN THIS CONVIENT LINK ! CLICK IT NOW IF YOUR CURIOUS. Point is while this was well paid for.. it’s easily one of the projects i’ve been most proud of and while i’m sad to see it winding down, i’m proud of what i’ve done so far, and I just wanted to heartily thank Kevin for the ride and for being so generious as to fund the whole damn thing. Your a good dude man. 

Which brings us here, to the grand finale. The Legend of the Three Caballeros! As the boys first starring roll as a group since the movie, there was really no other way this retrospective could end, and since I have a terrible problem with procastination and really hated this series version of daisy I just kept pushing back watching the series until now. I’m not proud of it but I am happy to correct it and hope you’ll all come along with me.  Before we get started I could not find much background on the show. It was directred by Matt Danner who was the character designer for the utter classic Xiaoilin Showdown and currently works on the Muppet Babies reboot, so i’m happy he’s still getting work. Otherwise I couldn’t find much. The most I could was on tv tropes, claming the series was orignally meant for Netflix.. and while I have no proof and this could easily be conjecture.. i’m inclined to belivie it. The series was apparently done long before the Ducktales reboot, to the point Frank Angrones was only vaguely aware of it and it didn’t even remotely impact the series, with Panchito and Jose only debuting in Season 2 because the original idea for bringing them in was scrapped. So while I don’t have proof.. I’m inclined to belivie it since it makes sense: Disney DID have a healthy relationship with Netflix once, setting up the MCU shows and likely being happy there.. but eventually they wanted their own corner of the sky, and likely didn’t want one of their shows bolted to the network like all their marvel shows were.  The problem this created though is Disney was CLEARLY left with a show they no longer had a place for. But even with that the show was still done, they COULD have put it on the Disney Now app or just aired it on the Disney Channel. See if there was any fan intrest in season 2 or throw one into production to at least beef up the episode count. I mean the Cabs have a built in fanbase, kids would likely love it... it’s the logical choice. But this is Disney. They’ve had to be drug kicking and screaming into representation, to the point they had to be fought for the gay romance subplot in owl house to happen, try to hide that the Sparkshort “Out” is about a gay man struggling with coming out despite having you know reams of content on the service with either gay subtext or out and out gay characters, and their attempts at doing representatoin to score points in other little ways.. have been pathetic, easily missable bits in movies that could , and have been, edited out in more homophobic countries. My point is yeah i’m still sore about how they and a LOT of the animation industry have to be dragged into doing the right thing over profit, and they often make very stupid decisions for seemingly no reason. They are a good company a good chunk of the time.. but Disney has done fucked up quite a bit. This is one of those times.  Instead they dumped the show on the Disney Life app in the phillipines and slowly some other countries, basically the Disney Now equilvent over there, and then just sort of forgot about it until Disney Plus launched. And given how many shows they HAVEN’T put on the streamer for again, seemingly no reason, it is a nice suprise the show finally got a release on there in the US. But before that, and proving what a massive mistake just abandoing the show was, the show did gather a massive fanbase via people uploading the episodes online. So yeah the show was treated REALLY shittily for stupid reasons, but thankfully it still has a fanbase to this day and said shabby treatment, as it always does, just encouraged fans to support it harder. So naturally i’m more than happy to give the series some spotlight as fanbase or no, it badly needs it and Disney sure as hell dosen’t want to do it. So if somebody’s gotta do it, might as well be me. This is the Legend of the Three Cablleros.  We open on some narration from Xandra, Goddess of Adventure. Granted she hasn’t been identified yet, and won’t be till next episode.. buuuut it’s easier on me to not have to dance around her name so your learning it now. But Xandra narrates that long ago there were epic battles against the good and the evil and all that by epic heroes, and it’s all cumilated in the Legend of the Three Cablleros. Post title drop we’re treated to the boys, in cool looking armor and with neat weapons, fighting a purple monster man as you do in an really beautiful and epic sequence As this scene illustrates the animation for this show is GORGEOUS, a lavish update of the standard disney style with nice use of shadows. It feels almost film quality in it’s work, and it’s an utter treat to watch and opening at the end was a good call: it both ratchets up excitement and allows the first ep to have some action since this one, as part of a two part premiere, is mostly setup. It’s eyecatching, exciting and makes you want to know what the hell is going on. And since Xandra realizes MAYBE starting the story at the climax was a bad idea, she takes us back a bit.

Okay maybe not that far. No we open properly at Donald’s house, where it’s his birthday! And like the movie, it’s Friday the 13th, an excellent call back. Donald’s making his breakfast, boliling some tea and.. talking with the weird foced warped refelection in the kettle who can apparently only say “right back at you handsome, wink”. Seriously I have so many questoins and all of them are about what this guy is, why is Donald so calm about all of this, and is he still alive after Donald destroys his tea kettle later.  Donaldo gets a call from Daisy, whose visting to spend the day with him and is waiting patiently int he bad part of town. I didn’t know Duckburg had a bad part of town but given Glomgold has to get his sharks and bombs somewhere, i’m not surprised. Unless he special orders them, but even then what if he needs a shark or a bomb in a hurry? He’s gotta get them somewhere and now we know where. So there’s that. So all’s going well until Donald’s asshole boss calls and forces him to come in despite Donald having the fucking day off and it presumably being on the schedule. So Donald rushes to work, and we do get some great gags but as you’d expect for Donald it goes poorly and he botches a kid’s haircut despite the mother being very rude.. and also a female version of pete. LIke.. did he remarry after the divorce from peg or is that his sister? Does that mean PJ and PIstol have a cousin I never knew about? I want answers dammit.. and picutures of spider-man. Not for any slander job I just really like spider-man. 

Eh it’ll do.As i’m doing a full series this time i’m stopping to talk about the main cast as we go soooo.... Tony Anselmo is naturally Donald, even pitching in to consult the crew on Donald’s characterization here, as really what better expert is there? He’s voiced Donald since the original Ducktales and has stuck with the roll since, only taking a break for Mickey and the Roadster racers and that’s likely because between finishing up this series and the Mickey Mouse shorts, and moving on to Ducktales 2017, he likely simply didn’t have the time for it. Granted given how little he was used in the first season of the show, he probably still could’ve done it but regardless, he’s a legend.  Daisy is voiced by Tress Macneile, who not only has voiced the character since House of Mouse and is easily the best voice for her, but is also one of the most storied and legendary va’s in the buisness, having been at this since the 80′s with zero signs of stopping. Just to name a few of her more notable roles, in chronological order; Gadget Hackenwrench, Babs Bunny, Agnes Skinner, Charlotte Pickles, Dot Warner (Which as of last year she’s picked up again and will do the same for Babs, just in case you thought i was exagerating on the “zero signs of stopping” thing), Pookie from Hey Arnold, Mom, Hoodsey Bishop, and Queen Oona among MANY, MANY smaller rolls. I didn’t even realize Charlotte or Hodsey were here, she’s that talented and deserves all the praise.. and way better rolls as Daisy than this one but we’ll both get to that and thankfully much like with Tony, the reboot’s giving her character some depth to work with so she gets to reallys tretch her chops. The woman turns 70 here, will likely keep going until she dies, and is wonderful and deserves more respect. 

 So because this is Donald, life wont’ stop punching him in the face and it turns out his house burned down, the fire people are destroying everything because their assholes, seriously they destroy both a family heirloom and a picture of his parents despite not being on fire. I’d be genuinely suprised if their general strategy wasn’t scremaing��“fire, fire fire” and then going “rock rock rock” while they throw rocks on it. Super brucey bonus prize for the first person who gets that refrence and comments on it. I’ll get back to this in a second but SOMEHOW, beisdes loosing his home, all his possesions and his job... it gets even WORSE and Daisy calls, refuses to listen to him despite him having VERY valid excuses and breaks up with him. Oh and then the fire fighters gladly talk about going home to their in tact houses  and partners. 

So yeah let’s talk about this. This first 6 or 7 minutes.. is why I didn’t return to the show for a while. My brain has a bad habit of glomming onto certain parts of things, so it remembered the rough to sit through and not very funny first act.. and not the rest of the episode which is very good and likely more indiciative about how good the series is. Thankfully it does get better but this first act .. frames things like it’s DONALD’S fault somehow. I mean yes he did burn his house down.. but even that really isn’t his fault. He was called away suddenly, wasn’t thinking and made a mistake. Hell he proabably woudl’ve had more left if the fire department hadn’t gone crazy with the axes. His being called into work? He took the day off, and his boss was just a dick. His screwing up at the job? he was genuinely trying his best and doing his best and the client was just wholly unresonable. Donald did nothing wrong but the episode WANTS to frame him like some sort of screwup.. which he is, it’s Donald.. but not in this case. It was just a string of uncomfortable to watch bad luck that cumilates in him having nothing left. It’s not funny, it’s jsust really sad and it’s REALLY hard to tell the tone their going for as they seem to awkwardly bounce from jokes to Donald being utterly devistated and alone. 

And the worst of this.. is Daisy. Daisy is EASILY the most infamous part of the show, as their portryal.. is pretty bad and apparently gets worse. We’ll see as we go but yeah.. her screaming at and breaking up with her boyfriend without listneing to his side and giving the claim we only have HER word on that he’s always screwing up, ON HIS BIRTHDAY no less, when he’s done nothing wrong, does not make a good first impression nor the fact the show seems to AGREE WITH HER. And look Donald is a trainwreck, this is true.. but the show dosen’t remotely portray him as one until AFTER this scene. As I said nothing that happened was his fault. Donald isn’t irresponsible or a screwup or dating a high schooler or anything. He isn’t Scott Pilgrim. He just has really bad luck. Again, we do see some foibles in the scenes to come.. but we don’t see any that would justify her claims, especially since she seemed perfectly happy earlier with him. Now if she’d say brought up some screwups in the first scene, and gently at that, then this would’ve worked.. but as it stands she just comes off as MASSIVELY unsymapthetic.. especially since Donald later calls her nieces over for help, which is objectively weird not gonna lie.. so she now KNOWS he had to move to a new house and his likely burned down.. yet still apparently has nothing good to say about him. 

It didn’t help this rubbed me the wrong way in a very special way. As i’ve made plain before I don’t like THIS version of Daisy, the nagging, selfish, vindictive asshole who will gladly try and cheat on donald, dump him at a moments notice and you know PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE. Which just in case you think i’m exagerating...

She fucking upercutted him..and like here for something that isn’t his fault. I mean this Daisy isn’t physically beating Donald.. but that’s a VERY low bar to clear. And emotional abuse is just as bad, so there. My point is too often in the comics when written poorly, Daisy is a pretty terrible person and I REALLY didn’t want a screen adaptation of this form of Daisy. It took a WHILE to recover from not liking daisy over this version, with help from remembering house of mouse, some good barks story with her and the AMAZING Ducktales version and the suprisingly good Quack Pack version.. I did. But yeah.. this is not a good sign of things to come for the character in this show. 

So yeah Donald’s heart is in the basement and his week is at an all time low when a post man shows up and gives him a letter.. well puts it in the box for a good gag but semantics. But the letter turns around as his ancestor Clinton Coot left him an inhertance for his 3Xth birthday: a house of some kind in the swanky neighboring town of New Quackmore. And i’ll also say.. it’s REALLY nice that for once, we focus on the Duck side of Donald’s legacy, or rather the coot but semantics, instead of the McDuck part. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love the clanmcduck, always will and I love Ducktales exploration of it.. but it’s still nice to acknowledge Donald comes from two sides and while one of those may be humble farmers, they still accomplished a lot, including founding Duckburg in most continuities including presumably this one. It’s also a good way to seperate thigns from other properties including the reboot: focusing on a part of Donald’s lineage that isn’t usually touched on and making THEM just as badass as the other side. 

So we get a quick montage as Donald takes a cab there and takes in the rich and fancy sights. It’s also a brilliant way to set up New Quackmore and it’s attached instutite as a fancy, upperclass place.. and thus perfectly clash it with Donald. Donald ends up getting dropped off at a big mansion.. which is not his , but belongs to the insittutes head, Baron Von Sheldgoose, played by WAYNE KNIGHT. 

Hell. Yes. I freaking love Wayne Knight. In case you don’t know who the man above is, or at least don’t recognize his face, Wayne Knight is a very funny and talented actor and voice actor with a lengthy career primarily in side rolls, with the rolls that he broke out with being loveable asshole and Jerry’s enternal nemisis Newman on Seinfeld and Dennis Nedry, aka “that guy who got sprayed acid in his face by those horrifying frilled dinosaurs that will never not haunt my nightmares”. Seriously that scene fucked me up as a kid and I could not watch that part of the movie. For the most part he’s been a side character man but he has done a LOT of voice work, most notable Zurg in Buzz Lightyear of Star Command, Dojo for the aformentioned and excellent Xiaolin Showdown, and Mr. Blik for Catscratch and I wish he’d do more. He also recently voiced the penguin in Harley Quin so when I get to that you better belivie i’m looking forward to it. Point is while he may not always get the glory, and had to settle for starring in a mediocre tv land sitcom to get a steady paycheck once, the man is VERY talented, very funny and perfectly cast here. 

So Donald makes himself home, finds out it’s not HIS home and gets thrown out by the snooty rich asshole’s bodyguards. As you’d expect. Donald does find HIS home, a run down cabana next door to the mansion with caution tape all over. Still Donald takes it best he can as it’s better than no home at all> What he doesn’t take well is finding out from the executor of the will that he’s not the only one inheriting the house... which is  absolutley fair. The guy just had the worst day of his life, and this lady didn’t bother to put in the letter to any of them that they were sharing the house. The Sheldgoose thing was just an average Donald screw up. This is just this lady going...

But yes we meet our boys.. and the introductions are naturally given this series is about them the best we’ve gotten so far: Jose is thrown off a bus, having ran out of fair, and having wooed all the ladies on board, and quickly charms the executor and is perfectly cordial to Donald, while Panchito parachutes out of a plane and marvels at how he went from nothing to having two new best friends, a run down shack and a sleezy lawyer! In short the two make a great first impression, helped by wonderful casting.  Jose is voiced by Eric Bauza, a talented voice actor whose had WAY too many roles to list here, but two of the most notable are being the current voice of Bugs and Daffy, and his most notable role outside that recently has been playing Splinter in Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But the guy is endlessly talented, seems really nice, and is easily one of my faviorite Jose’s so far after just one episode. He just.. gets the character perfectly and is thankfully NOT another white guy stepping into the role, so that’s nice. He easily oozes the charm and layabout nature Jose and was a natural in the role and i hope he gets to take it up again at some point.  Speaking of naturals we have Jamie Camil as Panchito, who easily steps into the guys boundless energy and the sterotpical bits are swapped out for making him a cloud cuckoolander instead, which I genuinely love and fits the character perfectly. He’s best known for CW Soap Jane the Virgin, where his charcter Rodrigo just sounds like a delight, but has recently picked up a pretty good voice acting career, vocing Don Karnage in the Ducktales reboot, Globgor in Star vs the Forces of Evil and Todd’s Stepdad George in Bojack Horseman. I only hope he gets more voice work as he’s really damn great at it and it’s wonderful to get to see him in a role that’s not limited to a few episodes at best for a change. 

So Donald’s less than happy about this, again it’s hard to really be that mad at him when he’s had a really, REALLY bad day and wasn’t told about this, but it’s kept to just the light level of grumpy as to not make him unlikeable. Granted after that intro it’d take a LOT to make him unsympathetic, but after their version of Daisy I really dont’ want to test this series.  Our boys also find out they have a groundskeeper, ari, aka THE ARCUAN BIRD! He’s just a delight any time he pops up, doing his usual “ya ta ta ta” bit, and being adorable and hilarioius as always.. and also hilariously failing to fix the boys door. So Donald ends up just accepting he has roomates now, nothing he can do, and the three explore the house finding all sorts of cool old artifacts, feeling they’ve stumbled onto something specail. And you know what that means: YARD SALE! Seriously it feels like a bit out of Wet Hot American Summer or Stella, a  series from the same creators you really should check out and that is high praise, trust me. 

I wish this series was streaming somewhere.. I mean we finally got Clone HIgh streaming Viacom, get on that. Anyways, it’s just.. fucking hilarious, and a LOT of this episode is once we walk back from the writers kicking donald in the junk and acting like it was his fault. Once Donald gets his inhertiance, the episode picks up immensley and we see the shows real charm and hilarirty fly, with jokes coming at a rapid and wonderful pace. The show really did impress me with the second half and made me utterly excited for tommrow.. or I guess today’s, look at the follow up.  But we’re still in this episode and being a rich asshole, Sheldgoose isn’t happy about a yard sale, though given this series standards, we not only get some great deliveres from Knight of an outraged “A YARD SALE?!”... but a wonderful gag where Sheldgoose out to white guy it up and yell at them over this..accidently takes a wrong turn in his massive house, and turns around, not loosing how upset he is once.  Meanwhile, we meet.. April, May and June. Yeah apparnetly Della isn’t dead or lost in this continuity, so the boys are MIA, and are instead replaced by Daisy’s Nieces, who I hope show up in the reboot before it ends. Especially since the show makes them WAY more tolerable than classic huey dewey and louie and instead enjoyable like Ducktales HDL. While not as indvidual as those three, the three are still idendtical outside of outfits, their voice actress Jessica DiCicco uses her consderiable talents and experince to give each one a unique voice, so while they all share a voice actress, none of them sound alike. And to round out our main cast for now, as our last members will be joining us fully next time, let’s talke about Jessica DiCicco. Jessica is a very talented and increasingly prolific voice actor and if you haven’t heard of her, and you probably have, you’ve defintely heard her voice. Starting out with Disney, hence why the probably called on her for this, she did the voices of Maggie for the Buzz on Maggie and Melina for Emperor’s New School before breaking out as Flame Princess on Adventure Time, whose both one of my faviorite characters from the show and one we’ll be digging into starting next month. And not one to rest easily she picked up a second set of iconic rolls vocing Lynn and Lucy Loud on The Loud HOuse, and funnily enough using those voices for two of the girls here. And along with Loud House she’s also currently starring in it’s Pony and is int he main cast of Close Enough as Candace. My point is she’s exceedingly talented.. as is this whole cast, as it’s a DAMN excellent cast and just further sells that this series deserves better.  We’ll get into the girls more next time as they don’t do much here other than get called in by Donald for help, with what I saw of episode 2 fleshing them out more. Point is Sheldgoose offers a million dollars for the cabana and all it’s stuff and the boys are glad to sell.. they just have to find something Sheldgoose desperately wants, a mysterious golden atlas encrusted with Jewels.  Our heroes head in to find it with Panchito finding it, and being very specific about it. We also get a nice call back to Ari destroying the door as Jose cleverly calls on him to destroy the lock. So our heroes open the book... and a goddess pops out and threatens to kill them all. 

Final Thoughts: Dope-A-Cabana is a decent intro the series, but as i’ve said it’s heavily hampered by a weak and mean spirited first act. But once it gets going it REALLY gets going and as part 1 one of a two part pilot, it does it’s job well once it does get going: introducing our three boys and one of our antagonists well and setting up the side cast and preparing for our last to major additions Next Time: The Boys go on their first adventure, Sheldgoose finds a boss and the girls find their voice. Thanks for Reading, Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye. 

#the legend of the three caballeros #The Three Caballeros #donald duck #Jose Carioca #panchito romero miguel junipero francisco quintero gonzalez #panchito pistoles #xandra #april duck #may duck #june duck #baron von sheldgoose #daisy duck #pete pete #disney plus #disney channel #animation #disney

[ikenbar]

Mr Love: Ike’s Choice CH 5 PT 1

Author’s Note:

Chapter five baby!! This is gonna be a fun one!! It is chock-full of fluff, angst, adventure, and thickening plot!! Only the best for Ikamara’s story B) I plan on taking lines straight from the game in this story. Normally I would make annotations but, after rereading the parts I have done that with, I have noticed that they can distract from the story. And because I have a lot of lines from the game in the coming chapters, I am just going to put the reference to the stages in the warning. If you have a problem with this, send me a message! Though I do write Ikamara’s story for myself, I also want to make the experience as pleasurable for any one reading as possible.

Thank you so much for the love and support for my story! Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here and would like to be familiar with the story!! :D

Enjoy Chapter Five!! :D

- Ike ‘n Bar Productions

Warnings: Words taken directly from Stage 8-1 from the game Mr. Love: A Queen’s Choice, there is also FLUFF!!!, sad children, ~✨🌈Gayness🌈✨~, and plot development that makes you  beg for more but are sadly left on yet aNOTHER cliffhanger :D

Prologue:

>>

The man in the white lab coat walked behind Marie as they made their way back down that familiarly dank hallway. They were quiet but that didn’t mean Marie would have it any other way. From all the medical talk and strange languages they spoke, silence seemed like the only thing she could understand anymore. 

They came to a stop in front of a door. He opened it and gestured for Marie to go in. She timidly did so, allowing him to close it shut behind her and lock it. It was a simple room with two beds. Not much there but it was enough. 

In one of the beds sat Marie’s roommate, and best friend. Normally the girl would be smiling and greet Marie with open arms, but today, she was just sitting on the bed, crying. Immediately, Marie ran to her side.

“What’s wrong?” Marie’s squeaky voice made the girl jump. She hurriedly wiped her eyes.

“Nothing.” The girl mumbled.

“Oh come on.” Marie jumped onto the bed and next to the girl, “You can’t say that right after wiping away tears.”

“...it’s just that.” The girl slowly began, “...I’m tired of the testing. I’d just wish they’d stop pricking us with those needles. You’re so lucky. Your skin is so thick, you don’t need needles.”

“Nah, I still get the needles.” Marie kicked her feet over the bed and kept her eyes on the ground, “I just have a special kind that's bigger.” The girl sighed and leaned on her shoulder.

“I just feel so…” The girl started, gesturing her hands uselessly, “... not safe.” Marie tensed slightly.

“You shouldn’t.” She said, making the girl look up at her, “You’ve got me! I will always protect you.” The girl smiled weakly.

“You promise?” She asked. Marie nodded seriously as she drew an ‘x’ on over her heart.

“Cross my heart.” She smiled. The girl sat up and threw her arms around Marie. Marie reciprocated the hug, making the girl laugh. The girls held their hug, indulging in the security of it.

“When we get out,” The girl said softly, “and we are no longer in danger, will you still protect me?" Marie held the little girl closer to her.

“Youri,” Marie said the girl’s name seriously, “There won’t be a moment where I will leave your side.”

>>

Chapter five:

Part one:

>>

I waited anxiously in my seat, tapping the mug of coffee in my hand. Youran and I had spent the past week talking and getting to know each other. In fact, there wasn't a day that had passed that we didn't talk. It surprised me how easy it was to talk with her. It was like we had clicked, becoming friends almost instantly. Almost as if we had already been friends before.

 I had even told Youran about my family. Though I addressed them as my biological family instead of my foster family. I didn’t want her asking questions about my life as a foster child. Not because I didn’t want to answer them but because I knew that, if she asked, I would tell her everything.

 It was strange to me. Never in my life had I been so open to anyone like that. It was almost suspicious. But every time I spoke to Youran, the suspicions left my mind. I would get this immense calm all over my body. It was something I had never experienced before. Something only she could give me.

But the suspicions and doubts were back. I met this woman while I'm being targeted and I just trusted her?! Just like that?! Plus, wasn't it weird that I feel so strange around her? Not to mention I had dreams about her right before meeting her! Could she have been someone from my past? Someone that wants me dead? One thing was for sure, waiting for her was a dumb idea. Especially if it meant potentially getting hurt. I still hadn't healed fully from Montu's attack last week. Waiting there like a sitting duck was a terrible way to get killed.

As I moved to stand from my seat, a chime came from the front door, making me look up. Youran pushed through the door, clearly in distress. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail that fell just above a vibrant sundress that brought out her light brown eyes. She seemed to have put on some light makeup as well, my eyes being drawn to her flushed cheeks and glossy lips.

 Panting slightly, Youran scanned the café until her eyes landed on mine. She smiled brightly. And, just like that, my suspicions vanished once again as that calm hit me like a truck. She came running over to me. "Ike!" Youran threw her arms around me, nearly toppling me over, "I hope you weren’t waiting long! I am so sorry I'm late. I slept through my alarm."

“It’s no problem.” I patted her head gently, “It happens. Besides, I... just got here. So you’re fine.”

“Great!” Youran jumped back and clapped her hands together, “Give me one second to order a drink then we can start hanging out!” I smiled and nodded. Hanging out? What are we, teenagers… she sure made me feel that way. 

Youran smile brightened in return. She turned on her heel and hurried to the front counter. I watched her as she left. She looked cute with her hair up like-

I shook my head and dropped that stupid absent minded smile. What am I doing? Wasn’t I about to leave?! I cursed under my breath and held a hand up to my mouth. She did it to me again! How does she just change me like that? There has got to be a malice reason behind it…

After a moment’s hesitation, I stole another glance at Youran. She was looking at the menu intently, tapping her chin with her finger thoughtfully.

… Well... since I'm already here…

I took my seat again, sighing as I picked up my now cold, and nearly empty, cup of coffee. After waiting a minute longer, Youran came running back to the table. “Ok!” She said, taking a seat in front of me, “How are you?”

She seems so happy to see me...

“I’m good.” I smiled, “How are you?”

“I’m great!” She giggled, “Having coffee together was such a great idea! I feel like we only know each other through a phone screen.” I hummed in agreement as a barista walked over to us.

“Refill, mam?” She asked me politely. I looked at Youran.

“... Yeah.” I sighed, lifting my cup to her, “Fill ‘er up.” The barista complied. Once she had left, I sparked a conversation, "How’s the company, Youran?”

“Excellent thanks to your help.” Youran sighed, “Victor had little to nothing to correct from the report, all thanks to your edits. Of course, he guessed almost immediately that you had been the reason behind it.”

“Yeah, Victor’s smart like that.” I sighed, spinning my newly filled cup of coffee absentmindedly.

“What about you?” Youran leaned on the table and looked at me expectantly, “How’s Ike ‘n Bar Productions?”

“Not bad. We actually start filming a new tv show today. Bart’s already heading over now to scope it out.”

“Ooo! Nice! Who’s the cast?” Youran egged.

“Nope.” I deadpanned, “Not revealing anything until it airs.” I looked up from my cup and caught Youran glaring at me. She had her cheeks puffed out and her bottom lip over lapping the top one. I smirked. She was so cute when she was angry. “Alright, alright. You can come to the viewing party.”

“Really??” Youran beamed, making the pout I saw a distant memory.

“Yeah.” I sighed,  “Why not?” Youran cheered and clapped her hands, sending a warm feeling in my chest.

“Oh! But watch out! You may not be able to get through the production so easily!” Youran’s voice sounded like she was telling a ghost story. She added her fingers waving in the air for extra spooky flavor. I arched my eyebrow.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, amused by her childish behavior. Youran leaned forward slightly and spoke in a harsh whisper, “Did you hear about that hacker that has been attacking the web?” My brows furrowed slightly. A widespread internet paralysis broke out in Loveland that week. It affected all websites in the city. On every homepage there was a signature by a hacker named ‘Key.’ “Apparently, there was word of the hacker affecting cell phones as well.” Youran continued, “Hacking into your phone and stealing emails and personal information.” I rolled my eyes.

“Hogwash.” I sighed, “It’s just people speculating and stirring up a commotion. Don’t think about it too much.” Youran nodded and took a sip from her drink. Though she agreed with me, I could still see worry knitted in her eyebrows. I instinctively reached out and brushed them. Youran looked at me surprised. I felt my face flush as I quickly retracted my hand. 

“Sorry.” I stammered, covering my face with my hand, “You just… You have nothing to worry about. So you shouldn’t hold your face like that.”

“I don’t?” Youran asked, innocently.

“Of course not.” I said simply, avoiding eye contact and looking back into my cup, “Like I said, this is all speculation. This ‘Key’ is probably trying to make a name for himself. Pushing however hard he can to get people to notice him. You’ll be ok.”

“...And ...If I’m not?” Youran asked sheepishly.

“I’ll protect you.”

 I froze. Those words fell from my mouth without me realizing it. They came so easily to me. As if I had said it a million times to her before...

Youran placed a hand on top of mine. I looked up at her. She was smiling sweetly at me.

“Thank you.” She said, softly. Her eyes sparkled, showing me she meant her thanks. I looked down. Her hands are so cold… I twisted my hand to hold Youran’s. “... Did you get your nails done?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah!” Youran shone brightly as she leaned forward, “I had them draw little pandas on them! Aren’t they cute??”

“Adorable.” I ran my thumb over her nails gently, a soft smile settling on my face, “Adri has been wanting to get her nails done. You’ll have to tell me the name of the place you went to.”

“Oh! How is Adri doing?” Youran asked, pulling her hand away to clap her hands together, “Wasn’t today her first day at her new highschool?” I opened my mouth but was cut off by a buzzing that came from my blazer pocket. I pulled out my phone and looked at the collar ID. Ho boy. “ Speak of the devil.” I looked up to Youran, “Do you mind?” She shook her head and smiled politely. I thanked her and stood up.. after making sure I was out of earshot, I answered the call.

“Speaking.” I said resoundly.

“Hello?” The principal of Loveland Lake High, Mr. Olson answered seriously. He still sounded the same as he did when I attended that school, if not a little more warily, “Is this Ike?”

“What did Sam do now?” I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

Mr. Olson chuckled, “Ah, about that. It isn’t Sam I’m calling for this time. It’s Adrienne.” I froze.

“What happened?”

“Our new student was called to my office for cursing at her teacher and starting a riot in the classroom.” I groaned, “She has been suspended starting immediately. I tried calling Maria and Bart but neither of them picked up.”

“Maria is at a doctor’s appointment for Lola and Bart is at a shoot that I have to meet him at in less than an hour.” I checked my watch. “Are you sure Adri has to start today? Can’t she just sit in the corner and think about what she has done?”

“I’m afraid not.” Mr. Olson chuckled. I sighed and held my face in my hand.

“...fine. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Ike. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. Adri on the other hand will be receiving a solid talking to that may make her into a saint…. I’ll see you soon. Goodbye.” I hung up the phone and growled to myself as I walked back into the cafe. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go.” I said as I approached Youran, “I have to go pick up my sister early from school.”

“Oh no.” Youran’s smile fell into a look of worry, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.” I grumbled, stretching my jaw to stop it from clenching, “My sister is just a jerk to the underpaid.” I sighed, “The school is fifteen minutes away. By the time I pick her up and take her home, I’ll have to go to a shoot. I’m really sorry.” Youran shook her head and smiled at me.

“It’s nothing you couldn’t help. I understand.” She said this with a sweet smile but there was no denying the disappointment behind her eyes. I clenched my hands into fists inside my pockets. It felt as if I had a string attached to my chest that prevented me from just leaving Youran there, making it nearly impossible to leave her side.

“... Do you have plans for dinner tonight?” Youran looked shocked by my sudden question.

“No!” She answered quickly.

“Good. Don’t make any. We can finish chatting then. And it’ll be on me. To make up for bailing today.”

“But I was late!” Youran quickly jumped to stop me, “I’ll pay!”

“I really didn’t care that you were late. I can-”

“But I do!” Youran puffed out her cheeks stubbornly. Though normally, the stubbornness of others angered me, she still somehow pulled a smile out of me.

 “Fine. You can give me a ride there to make up for your tardiness. How does that sound?” I asked, lightly arching my brows. Youran nodded, her smile returning. “Good. I’ll text you the location of the shoot and you can pick me up from there.”

“Right!” Youran said, determinately. 

“See you tonight then.” I said. I hesitated a moment, then gave her a quick pat on the head. Youran giggled, bringing a sharp blush to my cheeks. Not willing to let her see it, I quickly started walking to the door.

“See you!” She said, waving to me as I left. I waved back as I pushed through the door, making the chimes tinkle melodiously. I felt a warm smile spread across my cheeks as I walked to the car. Youran was so sweet and caring to me. It was a kind of warmth I hadn’t felt since... My smile fell slightly. 

… I have never felt that kind of sweetness before... 

Why did it seem so familiar?

(Next)

#yeah baby! #starting chapter five off fluffily #is this a way to stifle my closeted bisexual tenancies? #that is for my therapist to know and you to #guess correctly about i guess #mr love #Mr love: queen's choice #mlqc #mr love fanfic #mlqc fanfic #mlqc youran #mlqc fanfiction #mr love ikes choice #ikamara bikira story #ikamara's story #mlqc mc #mlqc oc #lgbtq+ #mlqc lgbtq+ #mlqc fluff

[girlofmanyfandoms]

Forbidden Spicy Gatorade Chronicles Chapter One

A/n: Ok, so the cult is getting stronger by the minute so if you haven’t been introduced yet, don’t be offended! I’ll try to go through everyone and introduce you in the next chapter. Erica (@the-never-ending-void) has asked not to be included in this fic.

Key:

Tater - @a-lonely-tatertot 

Lynn - @lesbilynnette

Gray - @silver-snow

Lilah - @tribblemakingalicorn

Cadence - me

Ivy - @imaramennoodle

Molly - @molly-sencen

Farris - @everyonehasthoughts

Speens - @an-absolute-travesty

Holes - @holesinmyfalseconfidence

Connor - @linhammon-roll-bromance101

Panda - @worldwidepandamonium

Meg - @ultralazycreatorfan

Word count: 2,382

Warnings: If you’re reading this, you already know what’s about to pop off

Lilah poked Cadence’s shoulder who promptly rolled over. Lilah poked her several more times, a bit more aggressively. Grumbling Cadence sat up quickly and smacked her head on the top of the bunk bed. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings, taking in the strangely black, purple, and gold aesthetic room.

“Why’d you wake me up?”

“You got a notification,” Lilah said, eyes wide open, handing her the phone, slowly walking out of their shared room.

Cadence furrowed her brows, unlocking the phone before calling out to her roommate. “Wait, how long have you been up?”

“OREOS!” she called back. “Where are the keys?”

“On the kitchen counter,” Cadence replied, checking her emails. 1 unread message from Gray, the AI developer who she made small talk with during lunch breaks.

Dear Cadence,

Good evening! There’s a new play coming out on Mainstreet, called The Facade, and I was approached by the team to create a promotional piece. I was hoping you could help, and we would split the rewards 50/50. The play is about a murder crime, which is plotted out in a series of intricate riddles. The plot twist: the lead detective was the murderer, and had been delaying her trial while she was pretending to gather evidence, and stealing from a suspect to gain enough money to flee. And her second in command was funding the plots without knowing that her boss was the mastermind behind it all.

Ok, now that my boss has read above the cut we can talk freely. The offer is real, and I WOULD like to split it 50/50, I just can’t stand talking all formal, y’know? Anyway, since you said you do animations and stuff as a side gig, I thought maybe you could make the animations, and I’ll edit and do the social networking? Idk, I’m just spitballing here, let me know what you think.

Also, Lilah directed me towards this email, she’s really good at tracking people down.

Sorry if I made any spelling mistakes, I haven’t slept in weeks,

Gray

“Huh,” Cadence huffed, glancing at the clock. 3 AM. She had time. So, grabbing her IPad, she opened Procreate and got to work. The Facade. Sounds interesting enough. But what to draw? A lock perhaps? A silhouette of the main character? Before she could decide, her phone buzzed again, a voice recording this time, from Lilah.

“Hey, so I just ran into two of the actresses from The Facade and they said they want to talk to you about it so you can create a better promotional vid, meet me at the local library, k bye.”

Cadence wished on a shooting star that at least an hour had passed by so the buses would be running. But how wrong she was. It was 3 AM. It was raining. And the library was at least a mile away.

“This should be fun,” she mumbled, grabbing her set of keys, her IPad, and a raincoat before jogging the mile it took to get to the library.

_______

By the time Cadence arrived her hair was drenched and she was so out of breath and tired she thought she was going to pass out. She looked for any sign of her roommate, but she was nowhere to be found. Instead, she saw three people sitting at a table chatting freely and crying laughing. The librarian wasn’t fazed in the slightest. On the contrary, they seemed to be enjoying it, leaning over the library’s registry system, talking with them. Quickly Googling “The Facade,” Cadence confirmed that the two ladies were the actresses from the play. The other one offered occasional comments, mostly just watching the occurrences that went on. Social anxiety kicked in and told her to run in the other direction, but she really needed the money. She forced herself to approach them.

“Hey, I’m Cadence,” I introduce myself nervously. “Lilah said you wanted to speak to me about promoting your play?”

“Cadence! Lilah mentioned your animations, and we thought it’d be a new, eye-catching way to get our work out there,” the first one chirped. “I’m Molly, by the way. I play the detective’s second in command.”

“And I’m Ivy,” the other one greeted. “I play the lead.”

Cadence expected the third person to introduce themself next, but the librarian took the initiative. “Hello, fellow human, you may address me as SPEENS, I accept liver sacrifices.”

“They do that all the time,” the third person assured her. “Tater, by the way. I’m not in the play, I’m just working on a novel with Molly. We met up here to talk to good ‘ol Speens when these bit-”

“Language,” Molly warned.

“When these lovely individuals,” Tater corrected, “decided to make this a research sesh for the book. As if we needed more work. I’m free to fly wherever the wind takes me.”

“Amen to that, sibling,” Speens responded solemnly, pulling five wine glasses and vodka out from under the desk like a bartender. Cadence looked confused, but not against it. “Say, where’s the rest of the crew? Lynn, Gray, Farris, and the lot of them?”

“Farris doesn’t work on the set,” Ivy reminded her. “They’re an archaeologist. Holes makes the sets for us.”

Speens wrinkled their nose, seemingly in disgust. “And the others?”

“Well, if you can take a break, we can meet up with them at the theatre. Even Farris, since I heard their last trip was a bust,” Molly offered.

Without a second thought, Speens put up a sign that read “The Librarian is Out.”

“Do they-”

“All the time,” Ivy nodded. “It’s kinda their thing.”

“But, yeah, Farris and Connor tend to hang around the set,” Molly explained. “They don’t bother anyone, no one bothers them. They’re a bit older, kinda like the authority figures of the group.”

“If authority figures would let you make a dumba-”

“Tater,” Ivy nudged.

Tater changed their wording. “-unwise move in order to see what would happen.”

“They’re responsible for us without being responsible for us, if that makes sense,” Ivy commented. “Let’s get going though, before someone blows something up.” She shot a sideways glance at Speens, who put a hand up in surrender.

________

Ivy swung open the doors to the theatre and immediately had to duck for cover. “What the HELL, Connor?”

They were holding onto some theatre seats, zooming back and forth the row on rollerblades, occasionally losing balance and having to sit down. After a particularly messy turn-around, they decided to crawl over to the red carpeted steps and laid there for a moment. Farris was perched in a seat a row down, calming watching as Connor seemed to be having an existential crisis. Upon seeing Tater and Cadence, Farris got up, carefully stepping around Connor. “New kids?”

“Farris, this is Tater, and that’s Cadence,” Ivy helped. “They’re helping us promote the play.”

“Congratulations, you’re adopted,” they vowed, though Tater looked confused. “What? I don’t make the rules. Oh, wait, I’m supposed to be the responsible one…. Ok, so I make the rules, but they can be bent if the alternative’s interesting enough. Right, Connor?”

“Uh huh,” he called from the floor tiredly. If he hadn’t spoken, he would have been deemed dead.

“Lynn and the rest of the gang are in the back,” Farris informed them, pulling a skateboard from under their seat and helping Connor stand. Connor’s rollerblades flailed a bit as he struggled to get up, but his arm was slung around Farris’s shoulder, supporting him.

“DO A KICKFLIP,” Connor prompted, his words slurred.

“Are you kidding, I haven’t skateboarded since I was six, I need an actual skate park to practice that,” Farris recounted. “And how drunk are you?”

“Yes,” he responded, giggling in a hiccupy way. “Does anyone have more vodka?”

“I got you fam,” Speens said, pulling out a suitcase of alcohol from thin air.

“Anyways,” Ivy interjected, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I’ll go get the others, wait here.”

Ivy returned with Gray, Lynn, Holes, Panda, and Meg, and introduced them accordingly. “Gray works on the special effects, Lynn designed everyone’s costumes, Holes makes the set, Panda is a theatre critic, and Meg is our concept artist.”

“So, other than animation, is there anything else you bring to the table?” Molly asked.

“Well, I do glass art,” Cadence supplied. “It’s probably not relevant, but when it’s still really hot and glowy, which is when you can shape it, it looks like it would make a good snack. Hell, it almost looks like Gatorade. I can show a picture if you’d like.”

Cadence took her phone out and everyone crowded around to see.

“More like Powerade, Gatorade doesn’t come in that kind of blue,” Speens added.

“F O R B I D D E N S P I C Y G A T O R A D E,” Connor yelled, startling Farris.

“NO,” Holes countered, clearly distressed. “Do NOT drink molten glass. You’d die!”

“You call it death, I call it adventure,” Molly smirked. “I’m here for it. C’mon Holes, live a little.”

“Sis, how have you made it to adulthood thinking like that?” Lynn questioned, looking a bit scared.

“And I know how to live, I’m living right now!” Holes countered.

“Sure you are, nerd.” Molly rolled her eyes. “And how many near death experiences have you had, huh?”

“Near death- okay, first of all, I am not a nerd-”

“You kinda are,” Tater mumbled. Holes gasped, putting a hand over her heart as if they were betrayed. “What? You are. You make a living off of reading books.”

“Used to, friend,” Holes clarified. “I’m a freelance artist now. I picked up this gig because of these fools. And good thing too, because now you’re about to poison yourselves! Second of all, um, none?! How many have you had?”

Molly clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Five. Blended corn, acorns, eating soap, eating paper, and an intense game of dodgeball. I haven’t even peaked with these experiences yet.”

“Immortal until proven mortal,” Connor finished for her.

Meg stood next to Molly and held her shoulders. “This girl, she’s going places.”

“Meg, not you, too, I swear to god-”

“sLuRp,” Ivy joined in, grinning from ear to ear.

Holes was getting hysterical. “What the actual hell is going on? Lynn, help me out here.”

“The Gatorade is Forbidden for a reason, kids,” Lynn tried to reason.

Gray stood up with a mischievous glint in their eyes. “Where can we get it?”

“From the crunchy forbidden chocolate powder, of course,” Connor chimed in. Panda gave him a high-five while Holes became paler and paler from the cult forming in front of their eyes.

“This one speaks the truth,” Panda shrugged.

“Ok, what even is crunchy forbidden chocolate powder?”

“Sand, duh,” Connor said matter of factly. “Add some vodka, a martini, and some olives, and you got one heck of a slushie.”

“So that means there must be Forbidden Chewy Lettuce and Flavoured Forbidden Chewy Lettuce,” Tater went on. “Grass and flower petals. Cursed, but not wrong.”

“Ooh, and crackle air can be limestones and sodium carbonate, pies are dirt, bread is wood, and hard candy is metal,” Panda proclaimed.

“Fidget spinners are Forbidden Bagels, too,” Connor helped. “I should know, I tried the other day and cut my lip.”

Farris ignored the last part of Connor’s rant. “The variety pack, I like the sound of that.”

“Farris you’re supposed to look after us and you’re condoning this?!” Holes shouted.

Farris mounted his skateboard. “I’m not condoning anything. I’m enabling and hyping them up without joining in. That’s some big brain stuff.”

“This is why they control the brain cell,” Ivy nodded. “WAIT, ARE MY CHICKEN NUGGETS BURNING?!”

“Ives, you literally set a timer on the microwave backstage, you’re fine,” Tater reassured Ivy, holding her from running to check on her meal.

“Oh, like you know anything about microwaves,” Ivy argued. “You microwave ice cream.”

“It takes too long to soften, and I’m impatient,” Tater defended, turning to address Holes. “And it is eaten with a spoon.”

“Do not start this debate again- you know what, Panda, get ice cream from the mini-fridge, we’re settling this here and now,” Holes demanded.

“I think the real question is why is ice cream so hard,” Speens mentioned as Panda brought a tub of Haagen Daz ice cream. Holes used a fork to attempt to chisel out part of the snack. It wasn’t very successful.

“I think that’s just how Haagen Daz works,” Cadence observed.

Holes saw this as an opportunity to gain some momentum in the argument. “Not just this brand! All ice cream works like that!!!”

“No,” Panda objected. “Not Breyer’s. That stuff is always just right when you need it. Hashtag not sponsored.”

“Did you just break the fourth wall?” Lynn asked. “You know what, I don’t wanna know, just for the love of all that is good in this world please don’t drink the Forbidden Spicy Gatorade.”

“Too late,” Cadence said. “It’s easily accessible. Also, I’m calling E so we can recruit her.”

“Holes, I know you’re hiding it from us,” Molly speculated.

“What are you talking-”

“You’re keeping the Forbidden Spicy Gatorade all to yourself because you know of its power and you want it all to yourself.”

“I don’t HAVE the Gatorade, and I’m explicitly telling you it’s going to kill you if you drink it!”

As the bickering went on, Lynn slipped off to the vacant staff lounge to pull out her phone. There had to be a supplier somewhere who would give them this. She searched for a few minutes, and, after a few dead ends, she finally found an investor. “Cha-ching. Forbidden Incorporated is in business,” Lynn smiled to herself.

“Forbidden Incorporated, eh?” Farris asked from the doorway. Lynn froze and cursed herself for forgetting to lock the door. Now Farris knew of her plans. “Tell you what, I’ll keep your secret under one condition: We split the money 50/50, and get equal control over the decisions. So, deal?”

Lynn hesitated. She wasn’t sure she could trust Farris, but seeing as this was the only way to stop Holes from knowing just yet, she had no other choice. “Deal.”

_______

A/n: So that was fun and took entirely too long to write. I hope you enjoyed it and if you’re in the cult and I didn’t include you, reblog this and I’ll make a list. The next chapter might focus on a smaller group bc there are like thirteen characters here and I’m tired. Peace out!

#forbidden spicy gatorade

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Hello Internet, welcome to GAME THEORY, where instead of putting a joke here I want to ask you a question. It's time to talk UNDERTALE.

Now I don't think I've ever gotten this many requests to cover a theory, (no requests times no requests is still no requests.) Anyway, across my tumblr dashboard, NO ONE has asked for this. And honestly, I'm disappointed. True loyal theorists will know that Undertale is my favorite game of all time.

Undertale is a game where every character, from goat mom to grind fodder has a sympathetic design and a unique personality, motivations, goals, fears. Whether you're saving or slaughtering them, the game makes you feel something every time you enter an encounter. But to me, one character stood out amongst all the rest. SANS. A skeleton named after the font, Comic Sans. ANYWAYS, Sans is, well, there's a lot of mystery around this guy. And before we get into it, let me put up a very special spoiler warning: UNDERTALE is a game best experienced blind. So if you haven't played it, pause your reading of this and come back after you've finished. I PROMISE YOU, I PROMISE you won't regret it. Alright, so everyone out of the pool and ready for the adult swim? Good. Because I'm feeling pretty determined to get to the bottom of Sans' mystery. So just to recap for those of you who haven't played the game and ignored the SPOILER WARNING, or just need a refresher, Sans is one of the two skeletal brothers who appears in the game. His partner is Papyrus, a loud, goofy trap lover also named after a font. But in the world of Undertale their origins are a big question mark. All you really know is what's given to us by a shopkeeper in Snowdin, who explains that Sans and Papyrus, quote, “just showed up one day and asserted themselves.” Weird, right? What's more is that, well, Papyrus is just kinda the goofy sidekick. Sans is much more complex.

He likes fart jokes, but he's also incredibly powerful and deadly serious. Not only is his boss battle the hardest in the game, he's one of the only characters who has knowledge and power over space and time. He can take shortcuts around the world through ridiculous routes. Even is walking through walls. He also acknowledges that he's only one of infinite versions of himself, making self-aware commentary of the various timelines that you've played through in the game. He can even count the number of times he's killed you. He acts like an arbiter of this world, passing out judgements on the player's actions in the game, even explaining the secrets of EXP and LOVE, or EXECUTION POINTS and LEVELS OF VIOLENCE, just to clarify. In short, he just doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the world of monsters. But then, what, or who, is he? Well, the idea that he doesn't belong in the underworld seems to be correct.

The evidence seems to point to the fact that he WAS, in fact, formerly a surface dweller. In the true pacifist ending of the game, as the group looks out onto the horizon, Papyrus asks Sans about the giant ball in the sky. Sans says, quote, “we call that the sun.” This is important because A, the usage of the word WE, and knowledge of the sun shows that Sans has a kinship or knowledge with other humans, and B, that despite he and Papyrus both being skeletons, or, supposedly, brothers, and apparently appeared in underworld at the same time, they CLEARLY have two very different histories. Why would Papyrus not know the name of the sun but Sans would?

We get further clues to Sans' origins as we hear him say multiple times he wants to "go home" or "go back." He says as much during his dinner date scene at the Mettaton hotel. He notices that the player wants to go home and says, quote, "I know the feeling." He then continues, "maybe sometimes it's better to take what's given to you." As though he ended up in the underworld by accident. AND in a genocide run during his boss fight he says, quote, "look, I gave up trying to go back a long time ago." End quote. And before you say he means going back to the surface world, that's clearly not the full story. His very next line of dialogue is, "and getting to the surface doesn't really appeal anymore either." Key word here is “EITHER.” Yes, he seems to hail from the surface and wants to go back, but based on his dialogue he no longer considers it his home. It's as though the surface world he once knew is gone, as though he's from a different time. It's pretty intriguing. So we're left with a being that appeared out of nowhere, presumably from being from the human surface, but from a different time period, who seemingly has the power to teleport. That's a lot of questions and not a lot of answers.

But here's where things get REALLY interesting. Sans has a hidden workshop that takes a fair amount of searching to find. You could say it takes a lot of DETERMINATION to unlock. Anyways, obligatory determination references aside, as you start to look for this easter egg Sans gives you a key to his room and says "it's time you learn the truth." After some searching you find the workshop which contains items that leave even more questions. A photo album featuring Sans and a bunch of smiling people you don't recognize, a badge, blueprints with illegible handwriting, and a broken machine hidden behind a curtain. In the latest update, one more detail was added. A hand-drawn picture of 3 smiling faces with the words “don't forget.”

So, what does it all mean? Well a lot of Undertale theorists have been linking these details to a feature to a character named W.D Gaster. A ghostly character who never truly appears in the game. Honestly, covering him is a theory all unto itself, and probably one best saved for another day. Even still, none of the Gaster theories I've seen have been able to explain all the details. In particular, the photo album, and the badge. And that's what kept nagging me as I researched Undertale. A badge? That one in particular really stuck out to me. Why would such an oddly specific item to be hidden in the huge easter egg of a room? Something that supposedly reveals the truth about Sans? Badges just aren't important in Undertale. Then it hit me. What if this badge isn't from Undertale? What if this badge is from a completely different series? And was, in fact, the most important badge in the history of gaming? One of the Iskall patreon badges.

Now, for those of you wondering what I'm talking about, the Iskall Patreon Badges are a pivotal item from Iskall’s patreon. You know, the one on Hermitcraft. Anyway, the Iskall Patreon Badges are a really important part of Iskall’s character. So I asked myself; what if the badge in Sans' drawer was ONE OF THOSE EXACT badges? Well first off, it made Undertale connected to my favorite youtuber, thereby making it even COOLER, but that's still a pretty big logical leap. I needed more. Let me tell you, as I started looking, more and more pieces started to fit into place.

In Hermitcraft Season 6, there are three Architechs. (This was before Stress joined in season 7.) These 3 were Iskall, Grian and MumboJumbo. And what does Sans happen to have in his other drawer? A photo album with pictures of Sans with people you don't recognize. Of course you don't know them, they're not characters present in Undertale. And note the word that's used here, PEOPLE you don't recognize. Not underworld monsters. So that's 2 items oddly linked to the Hermitcraft series.

But then, how do the blueprints and broken machine fit in? Well, in the final stretch of Hermitcraft, Iskall is the only one who hasn’t died since the Demise game, so he sells his own body to the highest bidder. Except, it comes with a cost. Everyone is poor. As a result, and with the help of ImpulseSV, the Architechs (minus Mumbo,) are forced to finally kill Iskall, ending his streak since the beginning of demise. I watched this episode in 2020 and I'm not ashamed to admit that when I first saw this scene, I cried. It's DEVASTATING.

Iskall says goodbye to his friends, his co-workers, this character you've grown to love and care about is suddenly promising to sacrifice his life. For all he knows, there is no possibility of him being able to come back after his Demise. It's this incredibly dark departure in the final moments of what was otherwise a fun, quirky, and colorful Season 6.

So what does all of this have to do with Undertale? A LOT, actually. But the first thing you need to know is that the hermits are known for their, let's say, unique written linguistic style.

That would explain the illegible handwriting on the blueprints. And the machine? I think a broken infinity portal is behind that curtain. Now that may seem like a stretch, but it actually explains a lot.

If Sans wound up in Undertale via whacky infinity portal hyjinx, it could provide a reason for why he's a skeleton. He used the machine as organic matter and suffered the consequences. Not killing him, but turning at least a part of him into a pile of bones. That could also explain why Sans has given up hope for going home. Remember the infinity portal is a time machine. By being in the underworld, he's not only in a different place, but based on how he talks, he's also in a different time, with no hope of travelling back to the time he came from. This could theoretically happen. It turned Scar into a wizard and completely disintegrated Welsknight, so the rules are… Flimsy at best.

But the crossovers between Hermitcraft and Undertale continue. In Grian’s episode, (EDIT IN TIMESTAMP) he mentions he’s amazed that Iskall only escaped his demise with a lost arm. He says Iskall had “a lot of determination to not die for real,” and that he’s going to continue to study this. Seems awfully similar to the same experiments happening in Undertale around the trait of determination, no? Especially since so much has shown that Sans was a key player in those experiments.

But I'm sure you also want physical evidence right? Well don't worry, because I have plenty. Take a look at Iskall and Sans side by side. Iskall’s left eye is replaced with a diamond loupe. Sans’ left eye glows blue when he’s mad. Both have extremely chill yet are known for their jokes and, dare I say, laugh.

In short, we have some incredibly strong proof that the Hermitcraft Cinematic Universe, (HCU) is somehow connected to the Undertale world, which brings us back to our initial question, WHO IS SANS?

Well, what if we took it one final step and said that Sans happened to be Iskall from Hermitcraft? Sent through the Infinity Portal at the end of season 6 to go to Season 7, carrying an Iskall Patreon Badge and his photo album. Not only do all the items in the workshop suddenly fit, but so does Sans’ behavior.

Remember, Sans can seemingly travel extremely quickly. And Iskall just happens to have an elytra, a device that allows people to travel hundreds of metres extremely quickly. This even explains why Sans bleeds when you finally hit him. He is, or at least, WAS, a human.

Oh and finally, Sans shares two out of five letters with the name Iskall. That's just a fun one. I thought it was worth mentioning.

But if there was any doubt, we have to look no further than the creator's previous work. Toby Fox, the man behind Undertale is actually DocM77, the creator of every hermit (besides Scar.) Now, if Toby Fox, the creator of Undertale, is also DocM77, creator of Iskall, we know they will most definitely share a universe. Which brings us back to Undertale. 2 faces, with “don't forget” written on it? It's Iskall, trying to remember his 2 friends. In short, Undertale is a continuation of Toby’s version of Hermitcraft Season 6, with Iskall never being able to get home, adopting the name Sans. The pieces all just seem to fit. Now all we need is an appearance from Ethoslab and we’ve got ourselves a true sequel.

But hey, that's just a theory. A GAME THEORY! THANKS FOR WATCHING!

#hcraft #hermitcraftheadcanons #iskall85 #iskall #TheScience! #posted 11.05.20 #long post #please note this is literally a copy paste of the actual script #with some changes #but yeah actual cred to Matt on this one

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable - Ch 7: The Fisher King: Part 2 (S2E1)

Summary:  A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: mentions of death, swearing, death threats, graphic injuries

Ch 6 | Ch 8

~ ~ ~

When Lydia got back to the conference room, Spencer was the only one there. He stood directly in front of the whiteboard, murmuring to himself. He’d written ‘Possible Book Titles’ across the top, but so far had nothing listed.

“The rest of the team leave you to figure this out on your own?” she asked.

He startled slightly, not having heard her walk in. “Um, JJ and Morgan are going to interview Rebecca Bryant’s parents… and Hotch and Gideon are interviewing the guy who brought the numbers to Haley.”

“Someone found him?”

“He turned himself in,” Spencer explained. “So, now it’s just me and the evidence boards.”

“Now it’s us and the evidence boards,” she corrected. She sat down and picked up the medication bottle from the table. “Sorry I stormed out.”

“Sorry you were so stressed,” he mumbled. “We didn’t mean to push you.”

“You didn’t. It was important for you to know. I’m just… so done with this, you know?” She stopped herself. “Sorry, of course you do. You were on vacation when you got these weird messages. I was just home doing my schoolwork.”

“Lydia, stop apologizing,” he argued. “This is very stressful, we’ve all been here a long time, and you got a package delivered to your door. I can easily understand why that’d freak you out.”

She shrugged. “I just feel like I should be able to piece together these clues the unsub’s giving us and I can’t.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he agreed, indicating to his empty list.

She looked over the label on the bottle in her hands. There was a patient name, a doctor’s name, drug, and an RX number. Prescription bottles always had more than that. They had instructions, pharmacies, manufacturers, fill dates, expiration dates.

“This number must mean something,” she wondered out loud. “He didn’t put any unnecessary information on it, but there’s a long RX number.”

“Read the number out loud,” Spencer told her.

He wrote it across the board as she went. “3-1-5-1-2-1-2-5-3-2-0-1-5-1-8”

“Okay,” he stepped back. “We can start with the basics. A equals 1, Z equals 26.” He got to work, writing the corresponding letter underneath the number.

C-A-E-A-B-A-B-E-C-B-

He stopped at the zero. “That’s definitely not a word. But some of the letters have double digits, so… let’s see if we combine everything we can combine…’C’ stays the same. The 1 and 5 could be fifteen, which is ‘O’...” He began again.

C-O-L-L-E-C-T-O-R

“Collector?” He stepped away. “That mean anything to you?”

Lydia shook her head.

“Alright. Collector. Collecting things. He’s collecting things.” He snapped his fingers so sharply Lydia almost jumped. “Collector! Baseball cards, music boxes, butterflies, skeleton keys. These are all things people collect!”

“That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

He shrugged. It was basically impossible at this point to rule anything out.

“Medieval,” she rambled. “Collectable things. Numerical codes. What else have we got?”

“We’ve got this note from the music box?” he offered. “I think I’ve heard it somewhere, but I can’t place it… And I think the book was published in 1963.”

“Why’s that?”

“That’s the year on the baseball card, but it’s not the year Gideon went to all those games. If the unsub knows Gideon likes Nellie Fox because he went to almost all the White Sox games in 1959, why give him a ‘63 card?”

“Okay,” Lydia agreed. “So, the type of butterfly JJ got, that probably means something too, because she collected butterflies, not pale clouded yellow butterflies.

He nodded. “Let’s get Garcia to look up some of these things and see if we find anything.”

She followed him out as he dashed towards Garcia’s office. He was very stiff and awkward when he was in a rush, she noticed, but he refused to run through the office. She was glad for it at the moment, seeing as with her foot, she probably couldn’t keep up with him, but it was almost comical, the way his feet skipped underneath him with repressed anticipation.

Garcia looked up when they walked in, then turned back to her computers. “This guy is infuriatingly good. He routed his IP through major corporations, crisscrossed it through countries, bounced it off satellites-”

“I thought you already tracked the hacker,” Spencer said, pausing behind her and glancing over her shoulder.

“No, I only found what he wanted me to find,” she huffed. “Apartment where Giles was dead. Reid, a hacker capable of getting into my systems is going to have amazingly sophisticated equipment. Did Giles’s apartment have that?”

“He didn’t have a couch,” he responded.

“Exactly. Giles was a smokescreen I should have seen through. But now I have this glorious program I wrote, tracking the hacker through his other identity: Sir Kneighf.”

“Sir Kneighf?” he cried.

Lydia’s eyes widened. “The doctor on the prescription bottle!”

“The what?” Garcia flipped her chair around and Reid leaned over to see the name on her screen

“K-N-E-I-G-H-F. That’s an odd spelling.”

She waved him away. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah, is there a database, which lists all the books published in a given year?”

“Individual publishers have lists, but I don’t think there’s anything like a master one. Plus it would depend upon the year, because the further back you go, the less likely there’ll be any database at all.”

“1963.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ok, that would be an example of extremely less likely.”

He hummed in contemplation. “Could you do me a favor? Type something into a search engine for me?” She pulled herself back up to the keyboard. “‘Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man’s sight’.”

“Okay, that’s from a poem, ‘The Parliament of-’”

“Fowls!” He jumped in recognition. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Chaucer! My-” He hesitated. “My mom used to read me that. It’s widely considered as the first Valentine’s poem.”

Garcia chuckled. “Your mom read you Valentine’s poems? Hello, therapy.”

Lydia smacked her over the shoulder.

“Chaucer. Chaucer. ‘Parliament of Fowls’.” He began mumbling to himself again, trying to fit pieces together. “It has to be at least 283 pages long. Something published in 1963… A butterfly indigenous to Great Britain. Why? Something born. Something from Great Britain… Medieval. Chaucer. Chaucer was Middle English. Middle English spelling of the word Fowls… F-O-W-L-E-S…”

Lydia thought he was losing it, but somehow, this rambling was productive, because he blinked and ran back over to Garcia’s side.

“There- There was a contemporary british author-- Fowles. John Fowles. Will you type it into a search engine?”

“Uh… He wrote The Magus, he wrote The French Lieutenant’s Woman-”

“Anything in 1963 published in Great Britain?”

She narrowed her search and her computer started beeping. “Yeah. The Collector.”

Lydia wanted to scream. Finally, they were on the right path. “Are you serious? The code on the bottle was the book title.”

Garcia clicked on the book and the cover photo showed up, which ruled out any chances of the book being a coincidence. Three objects were displayed underneath the title of the book: a butterfly, a skeleton key, and a blonde lock of hair.

“I’m gonna start calling libraries. We need a copy of that book immediately,” Lydia said, leaving abruptly.

~ ~ ~

“Hello, my name is Lydia Ambers, I work for the FBI. We’re in desperate need of a very specific book to help us on a recent case. We’re looking for a copy of The Collector by John Fowles, but it has to be a copy that was published by Jonathon Cape. Would you have any of those?”

Lydia followed Reid and Garcia to one of the interrogation rooms, to talk to Hotch and Gideon about their findings, but she was thoroughly distracted by her call and ended up stepping on their heels a few times accidentally.

“According to our database, we should have two copies, but it’s going to take me a while to search for them. Can I call you back once I’ve found a copy?”

“Yes, thank you.” She hung up and promptly tripped, falling between Reid and Garcia’s shoulders. She would have run directly into Gideon if Reid hadn’t grabbed her by the arm and held her up steady. “Sorry!”

She shuffled back behind her two friends and let them talk to Hotch and Gideon.

“We know what the book is,” Spencer explained. “The Collector by John Fowles.”

“You sure?” Gideon demanded. They were both clearly on edge. Hotch had his arms crossed which didn’t look comfortable in his suit and Gideon was punchy. She didn’t fail to notice the way he and Garcia avoided each other's gazes, Garcia more than him. He was still pissed at her and she was probably thoroughly embarrassed. And hopefully, a little pissed too, because Lydia believed he’d been way too harsh on her.

“Not absolutely. Not until we see if the code works, but Lydia’s called four separate libraries to search for the 1963 edition published in Great Britain.”

“Well done,” Hotch complimented the group, tiredly.

“Agent Gideon,” a woman called, approaching the group of them, “there’s a call for you on line two. Says it’s extremely urgent.” 

“Is there a name?” he asked.

“Sort of. He calls himself the Fisher King.”

Lydia groaned before she could stop herself. Everyone raised an eyebrow at her.

“Sorry. The Fisher King is the one who guards the Grail. You know, the one that ‘Sir Percival’, over there is supposed to find.” She pointed at Reid, who was grabbing the notepad the woman had in her hands.

“This could be the unsub, guys,” he confirmed. “‘Sir Kneighf’ is an anagram for Fisher King.”

“The Fisher King is at the end of all Grail quests,” Gideon agreed.

They rushed to the bullpen, all crowding around a nearby phone.

“Line two trapped and traced,” Hotch demanded of one of the nearby agents and Gideon put it on speaker.

“Gideon.”

“What I had to do was not my fault,” the unsub replied, his harsh voice unmistakable.

“Excuse me?”

“It was distasteful and barbaric.”

“Who is this?”

“No one else had to be hurt.”

“Call yourself ‘The Fisher King’?” He was trying to throw the unsub off his rhythm. Gideon had been training her to speak to hostile people and profile what responses to give them, so she followed along his game.

This guy had clearly planned what he wanted to say and expected them to shut up and listen. If Gideon made him interrupt the strict script in his mind, he might slip up and give information he didn’t want to or forget his point.

“I told you there were rules.”

“I’m actually more interested in exactly how you got all those burns.” Different tactic. Make the unsub think we’re closer to catching him than he thinks.

“Remember this next time you decide to step outside my instructions,” he warned. “Agent Greenaway did not have to die like that.”

The phone buzzed as he hung up the call.

~ ~ ~

After many attempts at calling Elle, Hotch got ahold of Agent Anderson, who was in charge of taking her home. Anderson explained that Elle had been shot and the ambulance was on its way to a nearby hospital. And then, he and Gideon were off, leaving Lydia, Spencer, and Garcia to work on piecing together this mystery.

“Mrs. Valez, are you there?” Reid asked, putting the librarian who’d just called them back on speaker phone.

“Yes, Dr. Reid. I am. I have a first edition of The Collector, published in Great Britain in 1963.”

“Wonderful.” As they spoke Garcia cleared off room on the whiteboard to copy down the code. “Mrs. Valez, I’m going to read you a set of three numbers. The first is going to be a page number, the second a line number on that page, and the third, a word number in that line. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“All right, the first is page 222.”

“Page 222, got it.”

“Line 23.”

“Line 23. Got it.”

“What is the 16th work on that line, Ms. Valez?”

“The.”

“The,” he repeated. “Great.”

Garcia wrote it up on the board and Lydia suddenly very much regretted not going along with Gideon and Hotch. But just in time to save the day, her phone started going off with a call from the unit chief.

She dismissed herself quickly and stepped outside to answer.

“How’s Elle?” she asked, figuring greetings could be dismissed for the time being.

“She’s in surgery. Ambers, I need you to go to her house and look for any evidence you can find. And if you can, I need you to tell me what exactly happened when she got home. Anderson will meet you there.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get back to you when I have something.”

She quietly signalled to Reid that she was leaving before grabbing her FBI windbreaker and latex gloves and running off to the elevator. She hadn’t taken a company SUV since her first case (after which she learned she wasn’t supposed to be driving them on her own because she wasn’t supposed to be unsupervised while working), but she figured that, if caught, she would be forgiven, given the circumstances.

The street was littered with cop cars by the time she got there and it took a minute for them to recognize the car and jacket she was wearing and let her through. Once she had parked, she ran across the front lawn and inside, looking for Anderson. Right now, the only reason she hadn’t been thrown off the scene was her jacket and until Anderson arrived with his badge and the orders to clear the place, she was at the local PD’s mercy.

“Excuse me, miss,” a man called to her as she walked into the living room. She shut her eyes tightly. Damn it.

“Hi. My name’s Lydia-”

“Ambers,” Anderson greeted her, stepping past the cops to speak to her. “CSU’s on the way, but Hotch wanted you to survey the scene before they processed it.” He turned back to the officer she was just speaking to. “Hello again, Detective Markes. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask your team to leave, as you’re currently on a crime scene under federal jurisdiction.”

As he went on to argue with the detective, Lydia flipped around to make her initial determinations. Elle had lost a lot of blood. Lydia could assume she’d been shot in the abdomen, because it was the only area of the body where she could survive long enough to get to the hospital and into surgery while she was losing blood at that rate. Elle had a comforted seat built into an indent in the wall where the blood trail started.

The coffee table was awkwardly placed in the center of the room, so the paramedics probably moved it to get to her. And from the marks on the carpet, it looks like they had to drag her body onto its back in order to perform CPR. Then, there was the looming note on her wall in blood: RULES.

“Can I do anything to help?” Anderson asked. When Lydia looked up at him, it was clear to her that he’d been crying. His eyes were rimmed with red and his voice was shaky.

“Did the police tell you what happened?”

He nodded, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “There is evidence of forced entry on the back door. The unsub probably broke in and waited for her to get home before he shot her. She dialed 911 herself before she passed out. And her badge and gun are nowhere to be found.”

“She dialed 911 before she passed out?!” Lydia exclaimed. “Unless the unsub let her… but no, he thought she was dead. He was in the room with her and wrote in her-” Lydia took in a deep breath and started to put her gloves on. “Try something with me, Anderson.”

~ ~ ~

“What did you find?”

“CSU lifted a partial print from the unsub’s message,” Lydia told Hotch, driving back to Quantico.

“What message?”

“Rules,” she responded. “This is about the press conference.”

He sighed. “Did they get anything from the print?”

“They aren’t sure if it will be enough, but they’re running it through their systems now.”

“Good. And what did you find?”

Lydia’s breath hitched. “Me?”

“I asked you if you could figure out what happened. How did the unsub get the upper hand and shoot Elle?”

Lydia glanced at her phone, which was on speaker beside her, as if Hotch would be there looking sternly back.

“Here’s my theory,” she began. “We know he broke in through the back door and waited in the house. If he was in the dining room, he would have been able to hear her set her stuff down and lie on the couch. Now with her eyes closed, he’s able to walk into the room and aim a gun at her before she can react. At some point, Elle makes a move off the couch and he shoots her. The blood pattern indicates she was falling when she got hit. That makes me think her gun was on the table across from her. But anyway, she’s shot and is lying on her side, between the seat and the table. Elle has got to have an insanely high pain tolerance, because she was still conscious when he wrote on the walls in her blood. But somehow, she had him convinced she had died when he left. Then, she calls 911 and passes out.”

“Good work, Lydia. When all this is over, we need to talk.”

Her phone beeped to indicate he had hung up and it took everything in her not to pull over and call him back immediately.

A talk? What the hell did that mean?

~ ~ ~

When Lydia finally made her way back to the bullpen, she was exhausted. So, it was a bit of a relief to see Spencer there at his desk, simply toying with a pencil between his fingers.

“Did you go to Elle’s house?” he asked, softly, as she took off her jacket and placed it on her desk.

“Yeah… It’s a crime scene.”

He nodded, understanding what she meant. It was bloody.

“How did the book code go? Did it work?” she inquired.

“‘The path to the end began at his start to find her first calm her long broken heart’,” he recited. “‘She sits in a window with secrets from her knight. Is it adventure that keeps him out of her sight?’”

“Any clue what it means?”

Reid opened his mouth to explain, but Garcia approached and started talking to him. “She’s okay,” she said, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Your mom. Agents picked her up.”

“Your mom?” Lydia startled. “What happened?”

The panic in Garcia’s eyes was evident. “Lydia! Sorry, I didn’t even realize you were back yet.” Her eyes darted between the two of them. “I’ll… I’m gonna go now.”

“No, no, no!” she assured her. “It’s fine. If this is private, I can leave.”

“It’s not private.” Spencer looked slightly amused by the anxiety both girls felt, but it didn’t last long. “It’s… pertinent to the case.”

“Is everything okay?” Lydia asked him, standing up next to Garcia at his desk, so that the conversation didn’t drift around the room.

“She’s flying here right now,” Garcia explained, and Reid nodded, looking down at an evidence bag.

It was the poem they’d found in the music box. The valentine’s one that he’d said his mom read him.

“I forgot she used to always read me this poem.” He sighed. “It’s funny, huh?”

“Funny?” Garcia asked.

“I should have realized this sooner,” he admitted. “I mean, nobody knows things like the fact that JJ collects butterflies except for me. People tell me their secrets all the time. I think it’s ‘cause they know I don’t have anyone to betray them to… except my mother. I- I tell her pretty much everything.”

“I don’t think anyone would mind,” she grinned.

“Do you know that I write her a letter everyday?” he continued.

Garcia’s eyes watered slightly, but her smile didn’t let up. “That’s nice.”

“It depends on why I write her.” His eyebrow furrowed. His demeanor had changed considerably and Lydia started to piece together what she had missed.

This unsub had gotten all this info on them from his mom. Maybe he’d been stealing her letters or just talking to her, but he knew her and that’s why Reid was bringing her to Quantico.

“What do you mean?” Garcia asked.

“I write her letters so I won’t feel so guilty about not visiting her.”

The girls exchanged a look. Reid had just been in Las Vegas. He said he was going home. So, why was he claiming he didn’t visit her?

“Did you know that schizophrenia is genetically passed?” he asked, randomly.

At least, she thought it was random. Until Garcia gasped under her breath. She excused herself quickly, leaving Lydia with the fidgeting doctor.

“Spencer, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she spoke up. She kept her voice low and her town concerned, undemanding.

He was clearly on edge. He wouldn’t look up at her, eyes focused on the poem in his hands. “‘The path to the end begins at his start’... I’m the ‘him’. And my start is my mom. So, she’s the key to lead us to the Grail. ‘She sits in a window with secrets from her knight’. The doctors tell me my mother loves to sit by the window and read my letters.” He dropped the bag suddenly and clasped his hands together. “Lydia, my mom is a paranoid schizophrenic who lives in a mental hospital.”

His knuckles started turning white and the muscles in his arms shifted under pressure. He was getting tense. Lydia knew exactly what he was doing. Normally, when she felt her anger manifest itself physically, she would excuse herself to blow off steam, but something told her Reid wasn’t about to find an empty hallway and start punching the walls.

But even with that knowledge, she never would have consciously done what she did to calm him. Her impulses took over and one of her hands reached out and settled itself on top of his fists. She bent down slightly, not forcing herself into his line of sight, but making it easier for him to turn to her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That must be hard on you… does the rest of the team know?”

He shook his head, turning one of his palms over to hold onto her fingers. Lydia’s heart sped up, but she swallowed down her feelings. He was looking for comfort, not a relationship. Besides, they weren’t even holding hands, really. He was just grazing his thumbs over her knuckles.

“Lydia,” he began, finally meeting her gaze. “Earlier you left because Hotch brought up your mom…”

Here it comes. She braced herself for the inevitable question.

“...and when you came back, you had bruised knuckles.”

She almost choked on her own saliva. He wasn’t going to ask about her mom? And how had he even noticed that?

Awkwardly, she slipped her fingers out of his grasp. “I wasn’t hitting anything alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she informed him, suddenly closing off again. “I just had to let off some steam.”

“Lydia, I wasn’t insinuating anything-”

“It’s fine, Spencer,” she replied, far too quickly. “If you need any help with anything before your mom gets here, let me know. And if I get any updates from Hotch or Gideon, I’ll tell you.”

He spun his chair around in an attempt to stop her, but she was already leaving, trying to look dignified as she walked into the conference room. She didn’t want to make him feel guilty when he was already dreading his mom’s arrival, but she couldn’t have that conversation when there was work to do.

It wasn’t until she was staring at the evidence boards that she realized, there really wasn’t any work to do.

What was she running from?

~ ~ ~

After hours of pacing and repeating the clues the unsub had given them outloud, Lydia had ended up back at her desk, absolutely drained. She pushed everything aside and lay her head down. She’d just been… off today. 

She felt so guilty about abandoning Spencer. He needed more help than she did. His mother was involved in a murder case and probably wasn’t stable enough to look out for herself. And Lydia was just wallowing in her past.

She had no right to do that to him.

So, what was it? As far as she knew, Spencer didn’t even know her mom was dead. He had no idea what the mention of her mother could do to her. He wasn’t pressuring her to tell him about it. And even more so, she’d never struggled to tell anyone her mother was dead before. Her first day in Quantico, she told Gideon and Garcia.

Lydia rarely talked about the cause of her mom’s death. If that’s what the team needed to know, then she could forgive herself for being on edge, but they didn’t. No one had asked her to say out loud how her mother had died. And if they did need to know, Hotch, Gideon, or Garcia could probably tell them. Her mother’s death was definitely in Garcia’s files.

What is it? She asked herself. What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you just-?

“Lydia!” Garcia cried. Her head shot up to watch the blonde woman running by, making a beeline for the conference room.

She ran after her, just catching up as she opened the door and grabbed the attention of Spencer and an older woman with a pixie cut.

“Reid, I got to the end of the IP string,” Garcia started, barely even noticing the other presence in the room. “Sir Kneighf? The Fisher King? His name is Randal Garner. He’s Rebecca Bryant’s biological father.”

~ ~ ~

Once the air in the room had settled, Spencer introduced the other woman as his mother, Diana Reid, before quickly distracting them with work. Lydia sensed that he didn’t want his mother to be a part of the conversation.

Lydia stepped aside to call Hotch, listening to their conversation as she explained to him what they’d found.

“Our file says that Rebecca’s father’s name is Joseph Bryant,” Spencer argued. “Who’s Randal Garner?”

“Rebecca’s mother and brothers died in a fire when she was four and her father was so badly burned that he couldn’t take care of her, so he gave up parental rights and she was adopted by the Bryants,” Garcia informed them.

“Okay,” Hotch responded over the phone, pulling her back to the conversation she was having. “I’ll tell Gideon and be there soon. Find out everything you can on this guy.”

“Doing that as we speak,” she replied, putting her phone back into her pocket.

“I can’t believe she’s real,” Diana mumbled.

The three of them trained their eyes on her.

“What do you mean?” Garcia asked.

“Whenever he talked about Rebecca, he never said she was his daughter.” She said all this directly to her son, her stance nervous, almost defensive. “He said all his children died in the fire. He spoke of a Rebecca, more in the abstract. I really thought she was a metaphor and not an actual human being. An ideal.”

“A grail,” Reid said, confirming her thoughts. This man honestly didn’t see her as his daughter anymore. His daughter had died. And this girl was a prize to be won. “He thinks he’s the Fisher King.”

“Who does?” Morgan asked, entering with JJ.

“Randal Garner, our unsub,” Spencer responded.

“He believes you’re all modern-day knights of the round table,” Diana explained, gesturing around the room.

Derek raised a hand and they could see his question about who this woman was coming a mile away.

“Uh, Derek Morgan, this is my mother, Diana Reid.” Spencer ran around the table to step between his colleague and his mom.

“This is your mother?” He pointed at the woman almost accusingly, but seeing Spencer’s tight smile, pulled back and said, “Ma’am it’s a… it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Finally, the last of their group stormed in, Hotch’s footsteps audible from across the bullpen. “So, where are we on finding this son of a bitch?” he demanded.

“Gideon?” Lydia inquired.

“Hospital.”

Everyone sat down around the table in time with one another.

“I rechecked all the clues,” Spencer began. “There’s nothing that points to an address.”

“The adoption records for Rebecca listed an address of the fire, so I made a call to Nevada, and it’s vacant. No one ever rebuilt,” JJ continued.

“Nevada?” Hotch scoffed. “So we don’t even know what state he’s in?”

“I’ll search the tax records,” Garcia offered. “See if he owns any property.”

“Excuse me,” Diana said, catching the attention of the team. She was leaning forward in her seat in the corner of the room.

“Mom, do you want to wait out-” Spencer started, trying to usher her out of the room, but She was already making a move towards Hotch.

“Just before the agents got me from the hospital,” she fumbled for something in her purse, “a man delivered this to me. It’s a photo of a house with an address on the back.”

She held it up for them to see the scrawl on the back of the card: 1024 Winston Dr., Shiloh, VA. 22485.

“Shiloh, Virginia?” Morgan muttered. “That’s only ten miles from here.”

She flipped over the photo. The house looked more like a castle, with multiple stories and barred windows. It was made with gray bricks and black roof tiles with a circular extension that looked like a tower.

The team filed out quickly, with the exception of Spencer, who was telling his mom to stay put until he got back.

Garcia ran back to her office and Lydia sat at her desk, still unable to go on raids with them.

Almost over, she told herself. This whole thing is almost over.

~ ~ ~

“We’re sending Rebecca to the hospital now and then we’ll be back,” Hotch informed her. “Any news from Gideon?”

“Elle just got out of surgery. Doctors say she’s gonna be fine.” It was already the next morning and Lydia couldn’t wait to go back to her apartment and sleep for the rest of the day. “Randal Garner?”

“Dead,” he responded and Lydia didn’t bother to ask how or why. “Why don’t you start clearing off those evidence boards?”

“Yes, sir.” She put her phone down and walked up to the round table room.

When she got inside, she startled to see someone else there. Spencer’s mom sat on the sofa underneath the window and was writing something in one of the journals she brought with her. She hadn’t seemed to notice Lydia walk in.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Reid,” Lydia started, politely, walking over to the evidence boards. “I forgot you were still here.”

After a second of silence, Lydia got to work, making piles of evidence, pictures, and all the pins they had used. She didn’t take the woman’s silence personally, knowing that schizophrenia could cause dissociation. She figured she’d leave her to her journaling for now.

As she was finishing up, however, the woman looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. “Is it time for lunch yet?” she inquired.

“What?” Lydia asked softly.

“I’m lecturing everyone on Tristan and Iseult,” she explained, scanning her journal suddenly like an analysis paper. “They’re all gathering in my room after lunch.”

Lydia was intrigued. Clearly, Diana was not in touch with reality and Lydia wasn’t sure how best to deal with it, but her curiosity won over her common sense.

She wanted to know who Tristan and Iseult were.

“I’m here to attend the lecture, ma’am.” She smiled and sat down on the floor, like a kindergartener.

“Let’s get started, then.” She went on to talk about the basis of the myth: Tristan was sent to bring Iseult back to his uncle, King Mark of Cornwell, with whom she was to marry. On their journey however, they consumed a love potion (whether or not they were aware had varied throughout history) and fell for one another. They were forced to have an affair behind Mark’s back, despite them both holding a lot of respect for the king, because the effects of the potion were too strong for them to ignore. When the king caught them, he sentenced them both to death, but Tristan escaped and saved Iseult and they ran off together. When King Mark finally found them again, Tristan agreed to give Iseult back to the king and flee Cornwell so long as neither of them would be harmed. And eventually, he found another young woman named Iseult and married her instead.

Diana was just beginning to explain how this compared the Arthurian legend and the love triangle between King Arthur, Sir Lancelot, and Guinevere, when Spencer walked in.

“Mom, we found her. Rebecca’s safe.” The two women turned their heads to the newcomer and Spencer flushed, seeing Lydia sitting quietly on the floor across from his mother. “Lydia! I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Young man, we are in the middle of a lecture,” she reprimanded. “May I ask why you’ve so rudely interrupted us?”

Lydia covered her mouth to suppress a laugh and Spencer looked shocked by his mother’s scolding. “What?”

“I am giving a lecture on Tristan and Iseult,” she repeated, impatiently. “Are you here to attend or do you want to just keep standing there and gawking?”

He seemed to understand his mother’s headspace, but his confusion returned when he remembered Lydia. She gestured for him to sit with her, smugly, and turned back to Diana. “You can continue Mrs. Reid, he was just late.”

“Has he read any of the material?” she asked, suspiciously.

Lydia raised an eyebrow at Spencer, teasing him despite the fact that she definitely had not read whatever it was that Diana would have previously assigned.

His face was gentle, almost unsure, and slowly he sat down besides Lydia. “I’ve had them read to me.”

Lydia knew he was talking about his mother. He’d grown up listening to her read valentine’s poems and old mythology. It was honestly really touching and she wondered if she should leave them to have a moment together but couldn’t bring herself to get up.

“Wonderful,” Diana sighed. “That’s the best way, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am. By far.”

They sat there for a few more minutes, listening to her thoughts and analysis of different versions of the story. Lydia would glance over at him at times, checking to see if he was still smiling, which he always was. Sometimes he’d catch her in the act and they’d share a look of amusement before turning their focus back to their temporary teacher.

Unfortunately, it had to come to a sudden end when Hotch walked in.

“Ambers.” His tone was serious. “I was worried you’d left. I need to speak with you.”

Lydia could see Diana’s frustration at yet another interruption, so she quickly stood up.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Mrs. Reid,” she apologized, shuffling out behind her boss.

He nodded for her to follow him to his office. Was this about what he said earlier? They needed to have a talk?

She wondered if it was possibly the fact she took out an SUV again despite being informed not to after the last time. Or it could be about her harsh comments that morning towards Gideon and around Haley. Or even worse, about her mom and how she stormed away.

She sat across from him, waiting for his exasperated voice to come through, but it didn’t.

“Lydia, I think we need to have a discussion about your future,” he started, unexpectedly. “I created an internship into the team for you because we’ve never had the need for a forensics expert before, but for these past several months, you’ve been an incredible help. You’re knowledgeable in crime scene analysis, lab work, and, as you proved today, profiling. So, I’ve brought you here to tell you that I’ve discussed with Chief Strauss the possibility of giving you a full-time job in the BAU and she has agreed to speak with you and myself about creating you a position as a government contractor. You can’t apply to be an agent until you’re 23, but I want to be able to lift the restrictions on you and have your help on the cases I see as necessary. If Strauss likes you, you’ll be allowed to make calls for yourself, carry a badge, take the gun qualifications tests, and work without agent supervision, which if she asks, you haven’t been doing already. Would you be interested in such a position?”

She blinked, completely floored by the offer. “Agent Hotchner, I… wait, ‘proved today’?”

It was not what she wanted to say in the moment, but it had thrown her off slightly.

“Today, you walked onto a crime scene and told me an hour later exactly what had happened. You could identify when and from where the unsub entered the room, how Elle was positioned when she got shot, and what happened between then and her call to 911. Yes, I asked you to go there as a scientist and to look for evidence, but when I asked what you thought had happened, you became a profiler and you’re clearly fit to join the team. Again, you becoming a profiler is something we can discuss but not act on for another year, so hopefully contracted work is okay with you.”

“Okay with me?” she laughed. “That sounds amazing. So, just like I’ve been doing in the past, I’ll only be called in when you want me on a case and not for any office work?”

He nodded. “This is dependent on Strauss’s approval, but yes, that’s what we discussed.”

Lydia grinned. “So, how does one get Strauss’s approval?”

~ ~ ~

Lydia didn’t get back to her apartment until around 6 AM and promptly slept for most of the day. She was startled awake by her ringtone in the early afternoon and prepared herself for Hotch to ask her to come back in, but it wasn’t him. Interestingly enough, it was Spencer whose name popped up on her screen.

“Hello?” she answered, sitting back against her headboard.

“Hey, Lydia. Sorry, I’m sure you’re still exhausted after everything. I would have waited a few days to call you, but if I don’t do this now, I’m not sure I ever will.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Is everything alright, Spencer? Did you make it to Las Vegas okay?”

By the time she’d finished talking with Hotch, Spencer had left with his mom and she’d heard that he was planning to fly with her back to the sanitarium, because she had a fear of planes. After everything, she expected him to stay with his mother for a few days, so she hadn’t thought she’d be hearing from him anytime soon.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be back in DC tomorrow. But I have something to admit to you. I didn’t realize this earlier, but I know why Randal Garner sent you what he did.”

Lydia’s breath hitched. “What do you mean? Have you… did Garcia tell you?”

How did he know? Maybe he’d just guessed with the whole scene she made about the bupropion. Garcia had told her that she wouldn’t spill any of her secrets. But would Hotch or Gideon tell him what happened to her mom?

“What? Garcia didn’t tell me anything. I think you should wait for me to explain, so that you don’t accidentally tell me something you don’t want me to know.” His tone was joking, but there was a wavering nervousness that she could hear over the line. “Lydia, when you worked that poisoning case… on the jet back the whole rest of the team was asleep and you had a conversation with Hotch. You said that seeing an orange prescription bottle made you angry because it reminded you of your mother… I overheard that.”

She waited a minute for him to go on. She thought for certain he was going to say he’d figured her whole past out. He was going to tell her that he’d profiled her fidgets and glances and found out every last detail of her mom’s death, but he didn’t. That was all.

“That’s okay, Spencer,” she reassured him. “It wasn’t… I’m not keeping secrets from the team, I just don’t really like to talk about it.”

She faintly heard him huff, frustratedly. “No, I mean, the unsub got all this information on us from my mom. From all the stuff I’d tell her about my team… I told her about you,” he admitted. “I told her about how I’d overheard that conversation and I’m so sorry that you had to go through all this because of me.”

Lydia’s fingers ghosted lightly over her face as she processed this and shut her eyes tightly. It didn’t bother her as much as she’d thought it would, in fact, she didn’t seem to mind at all. The only thing on her mind when he said that was her stupid crush and the fact that he’d been writing to his mom about her.

She shook it aside. He talked about the whole team. It wasn’t a big thing. But… the unsub had, in his fantasy, assigned them two characters who were in love…

“I really appreciate the thought Spencer, but this isn’t your fault. I never said anything to Hotch about the bupropion, so you couldn’t have known about that. The unsub probably just did some research on me or looked through my files. Even if he chose the bottle because of your letters, he had everything else to torment me. Please don’t put this on yourself or your mom.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t hate me?”

“I can change my mind if you’d prefer,” she laughed.

He joined her for a moment, but fell silent far too fast. Lydia suddenly racked her brain for whatever she’d done to cause him to freeze, but hadn’t come up with anything before he spoke up again.

“Hey, Lydia? When I get back to DC, do you, uh… want to get something to eat?”

Lydia’s heart stopped. She wasn’t a profiler and definitely not an expert on asking people out, but she wasn’t about to let this crush rot in her brain. These past few days were torture enough. “You mean, like a date?” she prompted.

Bad move on her part. He flipped suddenly trying to deny it and she had to interrupt him before he hung up on her in mortification. He was so flustered she wasn’t even sure he was speaking English.

“Spencer. Spencer!”

He tried to mumble a quick apology, but she wasn’t about to let him close off just like that.

“Spencer, I’m not going to get food with you unless it’s a date. I don’t play mind games like that.”

“You wha- So, you’d like to- I’m sorry, it’s just… Mind games?” he finally spit out.

He was a funny one. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen so quickly for some dork. When she was a kid and all the other girls would ask her ‘What do you want your future boyfriend to be like?’ she never recalled saying, ‘A real mess. Just a true goof.’

“Yes, Spencer,” she responded. “Mind games. Getting food together could easily be misinterpreted as a date and I want to go on a date with you. But if we’re going to do that, we need to both be on the same page about it. If we go get something to eat, will it be a date or are you just suggesting it to be nice?”

“I would like that. I mean, yeah… it’d be a date. If you want! I don’t wanna pressure you or- are you sure that a date is-”

“I’m still fairly new to the Virginia-DC area,” Lydia interrupted, knowing that if he wasn’t able to form a complete sentence, he’d just keep starting new ones. “Is there anywhere in particular you want to go?”

“Um… well, what do you like?”

A grin graced her face, glad to hear him finally calming down. “I’m sure whatever you like I’ll enjoy as well.”

This was it. She’d scored herself a date with the bumbling boy genius.

#criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds oc #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #untouchable ch1 #untouchable ch7 #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #lydia ambers #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #jason gideon #derek morgan #elle greenaway #jennifer jareau

[blaster-aichi]

Cardfight!! Vanguard Extra Story IF 15 things

belated edition because brain went on a marathon

The opening scene with Aichi appears to insinuate one of two things: either the Sanctuary Knights need Kai-kun to help stabilize his condition or, as part of a theory below, maintaining the IF World is putting a strain on Aichi that’s becoming more than he can handle with time. The latter would solve why the team suddenly intended to have him visit Sanctuary considering the lengths Aichi’s gone to to keep them apart, but just how he could fulfil the role, haven’t been able to think up anything.

Ibuki switching to Aichi’s first name being a permanent thing now. Yes. (It’s a nice idea if they’re going to play on the both switching places from high school arc)

Had theorized Kai-kun was in an otherworldly/pocket dimension location with the colouring of the scenes in the preview but Takuto summoning him begs the question of how much he has as Prisoner; why not summon Emi and the others into the castle? Or Rekka and Ren, as a means of reintroducing them to the story now that their objective overlaps with that of Suiko’s group? Also Takuto being soft mint Takuto, you little shit, don’t just dangle a life like that over a kid’s head when you know it’s more “real” than the dream he’s living in.

Someone actually drag Aichi home, he’s way too dangerous. He’s pointing swords at anyone and everyone. It speaks for how deep the distortion in him is seeping, with the pacifist we’ve seen him be over the years, to raise a sword at even Kai-kun, to attack Ibuki(’s cards, but somehow not his fingers) with it — and tossing Ibuki into the void — one can only imagine how badly he’s going to react to how far off the rails he went if he has a PsyAichi-esque realization.

Kai-kun confirmed to never hold a girl’s hand before.

How dare Bushi make the Kai Parents the softest, chillest parents when we’ve been privy to what their real selves are like. (Papa Kai mixing up Shuka and Emi slays. Sir, do you mix up your employees too?)

SHIZUKA  — seeing her anything other than bubbly is painful, particularly when it’s used to contrast the happiness of the Kai family; it serves to hammer home how only one of Kai and AichiEmi is allowed to have a family remain in tact and their happiness preserved, driving home how the other serves to be a sacrifice.

“I’m not the kind of guy who still plays Vanguard in high school!” a) did he just roast his real self (and 90% of the cast)? b) side-eyes the preview, ahaha.wav

IF then: presents itself as the most light-hearted season to date IF now: threatens murder at every turn and has the two boys who’ve been protagonists in the past both run away from home in a single season

The episode all but said in as many words that the price of Aichi’s creating/altering IF World to ensure Kai-kun’s happiness was his own presence so as not to trigger any awakening to Kai-kun’s Outside World memories, sacrificing his own happiness to be around his friends in order to allow his best friend a content, fulfilling life. But in recognizing that, and willingly giving up the illusion for the sake of someone else demonstrates just how good a kid Kai-kun is, no matter the world, no matter how cold and distant he’d portray himself in the card-centric seasons.       — Season 1 (of 2011, so different continuity but go with it) initially painted Kai-kun as a more selfish individual in order to mask the complexities of his predicament, his goal appeared to be about power in order to topple a rival, but it was demonstrable that his motivations weren’t so cut and dry: it was about getting Ren back from a state that warped him, the fear that the same was happening to Aichi before his eyes and he was scared due to his inability to prevent it. And Link Joker followed the same line of thinking: his giving into Reverse was never about power, but his fear of falling behind and not being able to keep up — bearing in mind, he had done so thus far without the involvement of any power like Ren and Aichi had experienced — his motivations had always been driven by helplessness, fear and any inability to face them head-on, finding it easier to handle if he ran away — which was a big part of why it bothered me that people would nail him as being completely selfish and stupid when giving into temptation and accepting Reverse’s power. IF’s iteration of him gets to demonstrate what would happen if he was able to communicate himself properly and follow through with what he believes, in similar vein to Legion Mate, but without the shackles of guilt and atonement; he’s experienced a happy life, and wishes not to deprive someone else of the same, but without the pride of his usual self, he doesn’t run himself into the ground overthinking, but takes action based on the emotions he freely allows himself to feel and express.

Eager to see the extent of Kai-kun’s power; Kourin stated he’s in an incomplete form, but he’s able to perform the same as Emi without the need for Shuka’s involvement and even Ride units the same way had hoped Emi was going to prior to the season’s airing. Which poses the question of how is he able to and why Aichi would allow it within a world that he tampered with to erase the relationship, unless it’s a facet beyond his reality warping ability.

Kamui’s appearance in the preview brought a thought to mind: although they’re in different branches of the school ordinarily, there’s been no evidence that Kai-kun attends Hitsue within IF, and that, in fact, with his family’s wealth, it’s possible he could even attend Miyaji instead. The line of thinking is wholly dependent on how Kai-kun reacts to Kamui and/or his uniform come epi 16, but it would be a nice nod to the dividing up of the Kai/Miwa/Ibuki trio to have them each in different schools in a similar manner to their initial divided stances in the season’s plot.

Also IF 16? Did someone order extra-cute?

A couple of theories to add to the pile (partially yanked from discord logs)

Aichi:

Something corrupted him and started fucking with his head to implant the insinuation that Kai-kun's life would have been better had he never pursued Vanguard as a hobby and the two of them never met. It could be that Ibuki Deleting Kai-kun and the subsequent struggle he had was the means for this line of thinking to worm its way in.      — In the same vein as VoidAichi, said corruption gave him the ability to warp reality, allowing for a completely happy and harmless life for Kai-kun, though it distorted things around him as a result, hence binding his page in the Akashic Records; that's a defence tactic Aichi took to prevent the change from being recognized by the Tatsunagis and an effort to correct what was clearly altered from their understanding For the sake of not risking himself being a trigger that would bring to the surface any memories of his real life, Aichi ran away from home and holed up in Sanctuary, removing any chance of Kai-kun being enlightened to the truth and allowing his perfectly happy life to continue without a hitch, and by having him get bored of Vanguard, there is no tie between them But the corruption is poisoning him and/or the strain of upholding such a world is taking its toll on Aichi, hence the beginning of the episode, and they already spelled out he himself isn't happy, it kills him to not see the person he wants to most, but sacrifices his happiness for Kai-kun's. Why he wanted Kai-kun brought to Sanctuary, idk, maybe as a brief respite, to serve as a reminder of why he's doing this, and keep his eroding spirit strong      — The corruption is what's turned him into a violent monster who's fine with hurting or pointing a sword at whoever gets in his way. VoidAichi was passive and sealed because he was a threat to his friends' peace, trapped in a position where he was a ticking timebomb, but IF Aichi is proactive and cut himself off because he's a threat to Kai-kun's happiness and can do something about it.

Also it's made pretty obvious that Aichi's tampered with Kourin, Naoki and Shingo's (and probably Miwa's) memories, which is why they're so fixated on his will and their dedication which feels kind of cult-ish, because of Naoki's glimpse of the real history after he lost the fight In his own, even more twisted way than Legion Mate, Aichi thinks he's doing the right thing, and the interference with that dreamworld isn't something he has the patience for due to the corruption, which is why he freaks out whenever Vanguard is brought up or someone opposes him

Ibuki:

The theory is Ibuki's been cast into an illusion where he relives his childhood, or maybe an ideal childhood is given to him in the same vein as IF Kai-kun to lessen his will to fight, whether to enforce just what he's up against and the hurt he could face again or to give him a glimpse of what he could be blessed with if he stops interfering with Aichi's world Shuka seeking out Emi gets a little more strength to it as well, as the only person in the world who would recognize that anything is wrong with the atmosphere at home the way it is after Aichi ran away, and no-one else knowing him because of his isolated childhood, so she's the only anchor to drag him back down.

Courtney also came up with the suggestion that Ibuki might instead be forced to loop through his torment at the Deletors’ hands, living through cycles of his attempt to erase Vanguard, to twist the knife but also try to remind him of why Vanguard is a terrible thing.

Kai family:

“I’ll see you again someday”.

The use of this line as Kai-kun’s parting words to his parents is striking: as given Shuka’s warning, the likelihood of him actually achieving this is minimal, unless for a few scenarios:     — he returns home to be with them as IF World is erased and the timeline corrected, allowing them one last time together     — post-IF, the real Kai-kun seeks out his parents. In doing so, he’s able to demonstrate to them what he was able to grow up into despite their abandonment, even if for that purpose and then to part ways with them. For the real Kai-kun, such a meeting would serve as closure and for the IF version within him, it would be one last show of love and gratitude for the life they gave him. (the latter part could apply to the real Kai-kun, appreciating the childhood he was given until they left.)     — Also the irony that they absconded for selfish purposes, shirking all responsibiliy of their child, left to fend for himself against the ire of his relatives, but when he runs away from home, it's to protect them. What a good boy.

#Cardfight!! Vanguard #Cardfight!! Vanguard IF #cfv spoilers