#introduction mixer

[nemosynth]

私を通り過ぎた電子楽器たち

AKAI S700　　　 　12bit QD, レゾなしVCF、変。 AKAI S950　　　 　ややハイ上がりなローファイ、変。 AKAI S1000HD　　　HDDファン音がサンプリングされてしまう AMDEK CMU-800　　同梱シーケンスソフトはカセットMTR同期可＝オーディオとシーケンスと兼備せしDAW先駆者！ ARP 2600 Rev.1　　ええ音やったのに１週間で壊れても〜た！ Arturia MicroBrute　変態VCO/VCF可愛いパッチング64ステSeq変態音色最高！ Arturia microFreak　　秀逸外観秀逸音色秀逸操作秀逸表示秀逸専用凹マイク、0-Coastと組合せてなんちゃってブックラ Ashun Sound Machine Hydrasynth Explorer　よぉ勉強したはるね、もちっと操作性を詰めたら文句なしアプデ大期待 CASIO CT-201 "CASIOTONE"　　初代カシオトーン、音丸い CASIO CT-403 "CASIOTONE"　　意外にこれしかない音色あり、モンドなアナログリズム最高 CASIO CZ-101　ミニ鍵でもPD音源８ステEG！ CASIO FZ-1　　DCFのレゾ上げてカットオフ上げ切ると元気！ CASIO VZ-1　　自作アルゴリズム部分音合成変調音源最高 CASIO VZ-10M　変調方式こそ純粋な音色創造 CASIO VZ-8M　変調方式こそ純粋な音色創造だが発音数が足りん編集非現実的 Clavia Digital Musical Instruments　nord lead　初代しかも12声拡張版、個性派な音！ Clavia Digital Musical Instruments　nord wave　初代サンプル読めて正体不明の音になるVAと最大６オペ簡易FMとマルチピークフィルターとオブジェクト指向なモーフィング最高！ Dave Smith Instruments　mono evolver keyboard PE　２連左右配置デジアナシンセ超変態 Dave Smith Instruments　prophet 12　５でなく12、最強預言者、私は前を向く！！！！！ Dave Smith Instruments　PRO２　モノ・パラフォ最強ハイブリッド超変態 ELECTRO HARMONIX MINI-SYNTHESIZER　歪んだ音ですぐ壊れた elektron SIDstation　　よく飛ぶらしい、リング変調３基すばらしい Emu Emax S.E 　　VCFがSSM系の音、E IIワンチップ化 ensoniq SQ-80　　アジのあるレゾるハイブリッド・シンセ ensoniq VFX　　　ひとめぼれ、デーハーのみならず幽玄な音も出る ensoniq VFX SD II　今も右腕、なくしたら相当に落ち込む ensoniq EPS16Plus　　メリケンな音の迫力とデモ曲グッド ensoniq TS-12　　　　エンソ最後の孤高の名機 ensoniq ASR-10R　　　エンソ最後の孤高の名機 学研　SX-150　本屋でシンセが買える、しかもそぎ落としの美学 HIkari Instruments Duos　ちっさいのに木製側板恐れ入り高精細ボディにパンキッシュなフォントと逝ってるチャネリングしかもゲームコントローラみたいな両手UI叫ぶシンセCV/Gate接続可能PRO2ハックするデバイスBOSS PSA-100ご推奨露西亜製Lyra-8買えずこっちにしたが正解 HOHNER D-6 "Clavinet"　　PU壊れたクラヴィどないすんねん KORG 700S "miniKORG"　真似できない音楽的なサイン波最高！と思ったら実は三角波 KORG 800DV　　少ないパラメで多彩な音が出る異形の黎明期混沌シンセ KORG MS-10　　東洋の哀愁、でもフィルターレゾナンス金属的歪み凶暴 KORG MS-20　　個体差でEGの立上がりが早くデジタルっぽかった KORG MP-4 "MONO/POLY"　やんちゃ坊主最高！　LFO２基あるのもいい KORG PS-6 "Polysix"　　　演歌みたいな泣きの音がトランスに合う KORG DW-8000　　正体不明の音が最高な鍵盤、エディットし倒した KORG EX-8000　　正体不明の音が最高なモジュール KORG DVP-1　　　５声ボコ、フォルマント操作可能 KORG DSS-1　　　でかい重いVCF２連モジュレーション・ディレイ KORG DS-8　　　 青春をついやしたFMシンセ KORG WS-1 "WAVESTATION EX"　おもろいけど難解、ニューエイジに人気 KORG 01/W FD　　音源波形に遊び心、でもパターントラックでパターン枠外さなあかんのは、あかん KORG Z1EX　　　 既存シンセへのアンチテーゼは偉い！ KORG KARMA with MOSS Expansion　　シーケンシング革命は激楽しいけど難解 KORG monotron　これはどこでも遊べる純アナログモノシンセ、でも音階で弾きたい KORG monotron DUO　音階で弾くべく購入するも鍵域が狭すぎ実用的でなく KORG monotrol Delay　サイケにトリップする60sセンセーション再現 KORG KRONOS 61keys　すんげー多機能多芸、でも画面の文字が小さすぎ起動遅すぎサンプルRAM少なすぎ音色メモリー無さすぎ！ KORG minilogue xd　　初代はヴィンテ総括音、xdは未来的アナログ音かつp12廉価版の如し、multi-engineでDW-8000再現感涙 KORG NTS-1　　Shimmer Reverbデフォだけでも最高！　C++攻略前に頓挫笑 KORG wavestate　こなれたウェーヴシーケンス、操作性難解、エディター万歳 KORG modwave　　こいつもp12廉価版の如し、しかもKRONOS切売第３弾KURZWEIL PC361　　仮想モジュラー単体ハードシンセ、内蔵FXまでモジュラー、凄まじ！！ Make Noise 0-Coast　変態セミモジュラー、日影の西海岸シンセシスが逆襲！ modal electronics Cobalt5S　　キュレーター的VA、オサレ外観も新時代、操作お作法独特、バスパワー鍵盤コントローラーにVAと思えば超今風 moog 338BX "LIBERATION" WHITE　重たい、心斎橋クラブクアトロで弾いた novation mininova　ミクロKORG20年、ミニNOVA10年、ロングセラーにはわけがある Oberheim XP-1 "Xpander"　フラクタルモジュラーええ音、サービスモードも楽し Roland System-100　　 セミモジュラー、実は螺旋のイントロ Roland System-100M　　フルモジュラーど定番、100ともどもソフトシンク有 Roland SH-09　　　　　ハードケース付！日本の少年少女に夢を与えた名機 Roland JP-8 "Jupiter-8"　　ゴージャス！な外観。ユニゾンモードとクロス変調楽し Roland JU-6 "Juno-6"　HPF無段階連続可変！野蛮DCB改造済！外観バランス良し！ Roland JU-60 "Juno-60"　鍵盤タッチ改善、高完成度、外観バランス慌てぶりが垣間見える笑 Roland JP-6 "Jupiter-6"　MIDIつきVCO珍しい、音源波形を加算できるのも良い Roland JX-10 "Super JX" x 2　DCOでも深い音、Fence of Defenseの音 Roland MKS-100　　　日影のS-10モジュール、でもライブラリーたくさん持ってた Roland S-10 x 3　　 火を噴くくらい使い倒した青春のひとコマ Roland S-550 x 2　　CRTでフェアライト気分、RC-100とマウスもあっただよ Roland D-50　　　エイリアス万歳！！　永遠の名機、部分音合成っていいねRoland D-10　　　へんなリズムマシン内蔵がまた良い Roland D-5　 　　実は常にサウンド・パレット状態でエディットしやすいRoland A-50　　　エディット・バッファ無くて困る、手放したが買い直した Roland W-30sc　　音源波形がみんなつながっててお祭り Roland JD-800　　やわらかい音がやさしい、エディット快適！シンセはこうでなければ Roland JV-90　　 鍵盤数が多くて手ごろ Roland Rhodes VK-1000　　ハーモニック・バー・シンセ、上にもう１台載せれるけど邪魔 Roland S-770　　　けっきょくただの重し Roland DJ-70　　　タンテ型コントローラ付サンプラー、階層深すぎ、劇団ポン出し向け Roland SC-8850　なんでGS/GM音源がうちに？かなり壊れてる Roland XP-80　　　これはロングセラーやったな Roland XV-5080　　それまでにない柔らかい音もでて新機軸 Roland VP-9000　　当時は物真似ばかりだったソフト音源に喝ハード！ Roland VariOS/V-Producer III　デザイン秀逸、ミニ・プロツー的 Roland V-Synth　　ひさびさに出たイカれたシンセ Roland V-Synth XT　　ちょっと大人になったかな Roland VC-1 "D-50 for V-Synth/VariOS"　モノホンのソースコードまんま移植したそうな Roland VC-2 "Vocal Designer"　結構役立つ、歌詞つきで合唱隊を歌わせられるし Roland Fantom-XR　　 VFX後継者のつもり保険のつもりがエキパン再生機に Roland SRX-02 "Concert Piano"　めずらしくダークな音の生ピアノの音 Roland SRX-04 "Symphonique Strings"　大好きな弦楽のみのエキパンだから大好き！ Roland SRX-05 "Supreme Dance"　テクノ４人組３人組の追悼リズムセットよろし Roland SRX-09 "World Collection"　やっぱ民族楽器あってこその音色ライブラリ！ Roland SRX-11 "Complete Piano"　88鍵サンプリングでカミさんの練習用音源に Roland AIRA TB-3　変態DSPモノシンセ変態シーケンサーこそが本質 Roland JD-XA　デジアナ直列並列縦横無尽重層的16系統快適編集万歳 Roland SH-4d　ZEN-Core外伝独自音源11 Osc. モデル卓上電池駆動万歳 Sequential Circuits "prophet-5" Rev.3　 40メモリー、ポリモジュとPWMとVCFの相性よき個体差 Sequential Circuits "Pro-One"　　めっさ太いシンベと秀逸デジタルシーケンサーたった40音 東京優勝 WHOLETONE Revolution　　弾きこなせず！！！！ waldorf microWAVE XT　　ヲタなのにポップでグレイト！ YAMAHA CS-15　　 古いのに二系統音源は流石、鍵盤タッチいいのも流石 YAMAHA CS01　　 シンセ基本形 YAMAHA DX7　　　2019年にもなってほんまにこれが来る日が来るとは！　KQ Dixieでエディット YAMAHA DX9　　　やっぱこれこそがDXですよ YAMAHA DX100　　やっぱこれこそがDXですよ YAMAHA TX7　　　DX7よりも賢いDX7音源モジュール据置型クール！ YAMAHA TX802　　変調方式を重ねてディチューン最高 YAMAHA V50　　　中堅機種のわりに、なかなかに手ごわい YAMAHA SY35　　 重量軽い、ええ音する

KORG monotribe　フルアナログ音源グルボ、MicroBruteとGate同期させると激楽しい！ KORG Kaossilator 2　よく考えられて楽しいけどおもちゃなので飽きる KORG volca modular　　よくここまで詰め込んだね♬　でも頓挫魂炸裂笑 KORG volca nubass　　ふっる～いホコリっぽ～い真空管サウンドも楽しい Roland D2　　謎のグルボ異端児　でもVariPhraseちゃうであの音色変化は Roland SP-404mk2　　実はVariPhrase搭載型サンプラー！独自変態FXも◎

AMDEK RMK-100 x 2　アムデックのトホホなDIYリズムボックス！ KORG DDD-5　長く使用。ベロシティ・パッドと音色カードが新しかった KORG DRM-1　　すぐ売り飛ばした。私にラックは合わない KORG PSS60　　なんで買ぅたんやろ？ KORG WAVEDRUM Mini 和太鼓　和太鼓とWaveDrum Miniとがニコイチ！和のこころとSondius XG！ Roland CR-78　　我が家のクロック・ソースでした！ Roland CR-68　　日影もんですが、良い音します Roland TR-606　　フォークソングおっさんが呉れた！！！！ Roland TR-707　　かなり故障中 Roland TR-626　　なんでうちにあってんろ？ Roland R-70　　　リズムパターン自動生成。エスノなのは下手。ポジショナルパッドよろし。外観ポップ Roland R-8 MKII　　永遠の名機。外観も硬派。'80年代後期はこれでしょう

KORG SQ-8 x 2　DW-8kワーステ化をもくろむも変態さを���慢して終わり KORG SQ-1　　これほしかった！S/H波LFOの代用になるし安いし USB-CV/Gate I/F になるし Make Noise 0-CTRL　これもなんちゃってブックラ素晴らしい！！！ Roland MC-500　バルクライブラリアン最高！　タイ航空ステッカー最高！ Roland MC-500 mkII　クロックが揺れず、ダイアル一発でリタルダントとかできて良いらしい Roland MC-50 mkII　最後の単体ハードシーケンサーSMF互換ロングセラー YAMAHA QX5　多機能やねんけど使いにくくて、と思ったらもっぺん来た笑 YAMAHA QX3　これ、はやりましたな！

novation SL MkII 61keys　オートマップ便利だが分かりにくい、SF的発光良い！ （Roland）EDIROL PCR-M1　移動中ノーパソと相性抜群 （Roland）Roland ED SK-500　内蔵音源ぷー、なんでUSB鍵盤のくせしてバス駆動せん？？

KORG MS-03 x 2　Pitch to CV変換機、謎リヴィジョン違い KORG KMS-30　　DIN同期とMIDIとを変換するレアなボックス貴重 Oberheim Cyclone　アルペジエイターのみの変態マシン Oberheim Strummer　ギター奏法を再現というが、なかなか半端 Roland ASC-1 "Arabic Scale Converter" x 2　知られざる変態MIDI変換マシン Sigboost “midiglue”　史上初MIDI/CV Programmable Processorメルカリ！

BOSS HF-2 "High Band Flanger"　高い周波帯だけフランジングするアイディア商品 BOSS MZ-2 "Metalizer"　その名も凄い、アナログ歪み＋デジタルかな？によるコーラス BOSS XT-2 "Xtortion"　その名も凄い、効果もエグい、でもアナログ歪み BOSS DM-2W "Delay"　　アナログディレイ技ペダル、あやしいBBDだそうでよくぞ頑張ってくださいました感涙 BOSS VT-1　　変態ボイスチェンジャー、某公共事業に寄贈 BOSS WP-20G　GK P.Uが要るのにどないすんねん BOSS RE-20 "Space Echo"　極上のテープエコーをモデリング、綺麗な音 BOSS SL-20 "Slicer"　シーケンシングに匹敵するツインペダル！

HeilSound Talking Modulator　　ほとんど使わず、めっさ重たい Ibanez SDR1000+　　２連MIDIタイム可変高音質デジリバ死語SONY製 KORG SDD-3300　　３連モジュレーション・ディレイで変態 Roland RE-101　　やっぱテープエコーですよ、800DV 等にかけっぱなし Roland RE-201　　名機なのは分かるけど、この機種のみ有名なのは何故？ Roland Revo30 x 2　　珍品レスリーFX、非常にチープな音 Roland SDD-320　言わずと知れたディメンジョン、プロ５と相性抜群、取っ手もかっこいい Roland SDE-3000A　ビット数が粗いのがかえって名機となるも、結局使わず Roland RSP-550 x 2　　当時ボコーダーがほしくて入手 Roland E-660 x 2　　中古で入手するにもほどがある、エディット時の反応が遅すぎ！ Roland EF-303 x 2　　友人にあげたらフォノイコになった！！ SONY DPS-F7　　ウソっぽいフィルターで硬い音のシンセにもなるがその音もウソっぽい、でもSONYシンセ！ YAMAHA REX50　　まともな使い方せず遊んだ青春、世界初デジタルディストーション なんやしらん緑の小さな Ring Modulator　　ただ歪むだけ なんやしらん光学式のワウ　　口に入れたり脇にはさんだりしてワウる

Roland A-880　MIDIマージ重宝したMIDIパッチベイ Roland A-110　ただのにぎやかしになるMIDIノート表示板

Roland M-480　48chラック型ミキサー！　経年劣化でノイズ Roland M-240　24ch 据置型ミキサー！　経年劣化でノイズ KORG KMX-122　フロントにイレギュラー入力は便利だがすぐ歪む

（Roland）Cakewalk UA-1G　カミさんの Mac 用、借りて使って使いやすさにびっくり （Roland）EDIROL UA-101　私の Mac 用、大活躍だが生産完了になってから入手したので老兵 Roland UA-1010 "Octa-Capture"　UA-101 の後釜。Auto-Sens 機能便利 Roland Rubix44　Octa-Capture後釜、４ch充分、Generic driver充分

Fostex X-28H　VUではなくLEDレベルメーターに未来を感じた青春 TEAC TASCAM Porta One "MINISTUDIO"　ピンポン録音だ！ TEAC TASCAM Porta Two "MINISTUDIO"　入力端子が多くて当時アマにグッド！ TEAC TASCAM 688 "MIDISTUDIO"　　カセットで８トラ！　使い倒した！ Roland VS-1680 "V-Studio" w / CDR-88　ピンポンしても音が劣化しないのに仰天！　CD焼けてバックアップまでできて、また仰天！

Roland CD-5　　使わずじまい、っていうか使えずじまい？？

ableton Live w / various VST plug-ins　Ver.1.0から使ってておもろかったけど安直に曲できすぎて飽きた ableton Live Lite 8　のばちょんのオマケ、VSTホストとして使うつもりが使わずじまい Apple Garage Band　当時これで同時録音可能音声トラックが８トラあったら充分やったのに Apple Logic Express 9　ガレバンが↑だからこれを買うはめに。凄い万能ぶりにぼーぜん Apple Logic Pro 9　なんせ最上位機種がダウンロード販売で１万７千円しかせんのでぼーぜん Apple Logic Pro X　ゼロからの再出発 Apple Garage Band iOS　まさか８トラが32トラになって無償になるとは！

Arturia Pigments 3　これはあたらしい音がするねぇ Arturia CS-80V　ヴァンゲリス御大の神器、実物80kgもして所有不可なのでソフトで Arturia prophet-V　キャンペーンでタダで入手！！プロ５とプロVS合体がいい Arturia minimoog V Original　キャンペーンでタダで入手！！太い音しますねー Arturia Matrix-12 V　Xpanderの代わりに入手、やっぱ LFO ×５基は凄いねぇ DEXED　これは使いやすいDX７完全再現フリーウェアしかも今風の音もいろいろあり Garritan World Instruments　安い音質だが打楽器豊富、常にマルチ音源なのがちょっと KORG LegacyCollection MS-20　単品売りで安価、少々時代を感じる操作性だけど個性派 KORG M1Le　キャンペーンでタダで入手！！　レゾナンス無いし M1 そのもの Miroslav Philharmonik CE　格安キャンペーンで入手、原音忠実すぎて音域限定は使い辛い Media OverKill Waverazor　もっともぶっとんだイカれた壊れたイカしたソフトシンセ！！ Native Instruments Razor　この変態音源が最高、なんせリバーブまで 320 倍音加算合成！ Native Instruments Prism　変態打楽器物理モデリングシンセ、持続音にするとなお変態で良い Native Instruments Micro Prism　変態打楽器モデリングシンセ簡易版、遊ぶだけなら充分 Native Instruments Scanner　グラニュラーで遊びたくて、しかも安かったし Native Instruments FM8　まぁクロノスとDX互換させたかったので、って変な理由ですね PPG WaveMapper２　奇才ジジイ極変態ウェーヴテーブルを超越タイムコレクテッド音源、楽しい！ UVI　各種デモ版ばっか走らせるもスタンドアローンで弾けず waldorf largo　変態シンセメーカーの集大成的変態シンセが楽しい W. Taylor Holiday Audulus　おそろしく基礎から始めさせられるモジュラーシンセ じつは膨大なフリーウェア音源とエフェクトたくさんたくさん

Toybear Robobear　変態グラニュラーフィルター VST FX、PowerPCのみ対応残念

AQ Interactive KORG DS-10 @ NINTENDO DS Lite　やっぱ物理鍵盤で弾きたい DETUNE KORG M01 @ NINTENDO DS Lite　「Lore」音色をカオスパッド演奏すると楽しい

IK Multimedia iRig MIDI　30pin-Lightning アダプターケーブル併用だがMIDI Thruに拍手！ IK Multimedia iRig MIDI2　前のがOSアプグレで非互換しょぼ〜ん対策

apesoft iVCS3　シンセ混沌の黎明期ラヴ＆ピースなウッドストック＋現代サンプラーでにこにこ Arpie　休日にやってると廃人になる AudioKit Analog Synth X　カスタマイズできる無償アプリらしいが、勉強する時間が AudioKit FM Player　サンプルベースだが使えるしレゾナントLPFもあるし無償やしええ時代 CASIO CZ　やったー、この調子でぜひともVZ-1もアプリにしてくださいお願いします！！ Compasso　方位磁石を操作子に使う変態シンセ Konaka Lab Fourier Synthesizer　教育的サイン波加算合成 KORG iElectribe　リズムパターン勉強用だから私には珍しくプリセット命KORG iKaossilator　ナウいねー KORG Gadget　iPadでこんな楽しいDAWができるなんてええ時代 KORG iDS-10　アナモデのワークステーション・アプリシンセもここまで来たか KORG iWAVESTATION　初めてWaveStationの真価を発揮できる操作性、次は構造そのものを改善して下さい KiraQ Tech KQ Dixie　DX７フルコンパチが480円って、もう時代はどこまで行くのや moog Animoog　老舗が８音色ベクター合成ポリアフタータッチ対応のナウいポリシンセを！！ moog Animoog X　ベクターが三次元に！　もはや異次元シンセ！！！ moog model D　　ミニモーグが神々しすぎて手に入れるのが恐れ多い私に moog model 15　老舗ご謹製だけあってガチええ音すんで♬ Native Instruments iMaschine　ナウいねー、サンプリングできるのもいい Peter Vogel CMI　IIxとIIIの音が全部入ってPageRも世界遺産ですな、サンプリングもできるし PPG minimapper　これは変態ですねー、生楽器をハイブリッド合成できる Procyon Studio Handy Harp　ごっつー気合い入ったリアルなハープグリスができる Propellerhead Figure　ナウいねー、パラメータを簡単オートメーションできるのもいい Propellerhead Thor for iPad　なんでもありな万能シンセだけどバグ多し Pulse Code Modular　美しいモジュラーシンセ Reaktable Mobile　あまりに先端的すぎてなかなか使いこなせないけど凄い ROLI NOISE　ポリアフタータッチと物理モデリング音源との変態組み合わせが楽しい Seaquence　水族館グルボ、クラゲ的シーケンシングUIすげー Super Manetron　メロトロンを24/96で全鍵サンプリングした真打ち TANSU Synth　松武秀樹の意地をご家庭で Vio　変態ヴォコーダー waldorf nave　同社総決算ソフトしかも見た目も使い勝手も抜群 Wizdom Music Geoshred　ジョーダン・ルーデスがライヴで弾きまくる iPad、ギターなUIと物理モデリングで最高の表現力！！

Brian Eno Bloom　これは楽器なのか？　楽曲なのか？　進化し続ける先端的作品

#synth #synthesizer #synthesiser #nemosynth #nemo #self introduction #electronic musical instruments #daw #vintage synth #effects #recorders #mixers #computeres

[no-psi-nan]

How Saiki wants to be perceived:

Not at all. He's just generic mob character #7536, thanks.

How Saiki's friends perceive him at first:

Projection Central... Depending on the person, he's a scaredy-cat, romance novel protagonist, former punk, flustered fanboy, a slacker who just needs some inspiration to become a sports star, etc...

How Saiki's friends perceive him at the end of the series:

Quiet, a little glum, kinda boring, but a good guy. Says "good grief" a lot.

How the Psychickers perceive him:

Sarcastic, stubborn, tsundere, a little childish, back-talker supreme, confident, a bit arrogant even, incredibly intelligent, lonely, silly, uptight, a soft touch, kind.

How Saiki ACTUALLY IS:

Sarcastic, stubborn, tsundere, a little childish, back-talker supreme, confident, a bit arrogant even, incredibly intelligent, lonely, silly, uptight, a soft touch, kind.

-> Only the Psychickers (and to some extent, his family) know and appreciate Saiki for who he actually is by the end of the series.

That's because Saiki is only ever comfortable revealing his true personality once the other person knows about his powers.

Until then, he will always try pretending to be a passive nobody, unless he thinks it can get a girl off his back (ex. against Teruhashi at the arcade, against Imu in the locker room).

Saiki remains nervous about telling his friends about his powers despite seeing it go off without a hitch in the alternate universe, and despite losing his powers first, because his friends might not like his "new"/actual personality.

We see early on in Kuboyasu's introduction that Saiki fears his relationships with his friends are fake because they're based on a huge lie and an even bigger pretense. We see that anxiety about his personality/persona not being palatable enough at the wrong-day birthday party. We see him mourn the fact that he can't be his real self at the mixer.

THAT is the great tragedy of Saiki K, that almost none of the people he loves actually know him in any meaningful way, not even by the end of the series!

#the freaking HAMSTER knows more about Saiki's personality than most of his friends. doesn't that make you want to eat drywall?? #nopsi meta #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #sknpn #the disastrous life of saiki k. #tdlosk #Saiki Kusuo

[ventismacchiato]

37 behind the lens — co-op irl! that’s called hanging out !

scaramouche x g!n reader

warning; slightly suggestive

“Sorry, these are the only aprons we own,” Kuni frowns as he holds up two ‘Kiss the Cook!’ aprons.

“It’s cute,” you smile as he stares at them with a great disdain.

“Childe bought them,” he mumbles, tying it around his waist with ease, but the same can’t be said for you. He watches you struggle for a minute before making his way behind you.

“Like this,” he murmurs as he brings the strings around your waist and ties them in a bow. His arms are nearly around your hips as he does so, his breath in your ear before he pulls back.

“Where’s my kiss?” you joke as Kuni adjusts the camera in front of you both to let the stream countdown begin. He rolls his eyes as he comes back beside you, making sure you guys have the set amount of ingredients before turning to you.

“Where’s mine?” he counters.

You hold back a smile and fail. You step closer and cradle Kuni’s skull, leaning in one time for a peck.

“Like this?” you ask coyly as Kuni hums.

You surge in once again, this time to lick Kuni’s mouth open, tasting his breath. You both are the same amount of assertive and the same amount of submissive. Kuni catches your bottom lip between his teeth and swells them prettier.

You both pull back with a dazed look in your eyes before realizing the stream had started. Minutes ago.

For the first few minutes the chat was flooded with comments on you both kissing. And being the professionals, or flustered idiots, you both were you quickly jump into an introduction as more viewers arrive.

Kuni snaps out of it and gets into his Balladeer mode, matching your energy and instructing you on what to do.

“I know I titled the stream cooking, but we’re actually baking cupcakes because this one,” he gestures to you, “doesn’t know how to do shit in the kitchen.”

“Hey!” you huff as he busies himself with the mixer, a small smirk on his face as you rush to defend yourself to the chat.

tartnom donated $5

are you guys at the fatui house?

“Yes,” you answer, gesturing behind you, “This is where Kuni lives,” you say as you whisk a batch of frosting in front of you, “But I’ve been sleeping over a lot and have been streaming here a bit, which is why my stream backgrounds may have looked different.”

Kuni reaches over to drop some food dye into the bowl in front of you so it swirls into a pretty lavender. You reach down to scrape a bit onto your spoon and bring it to your lips, the frosting dissolving on your tongue.

“Pretty good,” you nod.

Kuni looks over at your compliment and eyes your mouth for a good second. And as if it was second nature Kuni reaches over and swipes the frosting on the corner of your mouth with his thumb and licks it off clean.

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking the spoon from you and putting the frosting to the side.

This time it was your turn to stand there flustered as your chat went insane.

“You alright?” Kuni has the audacity to ask as he adorned a knowing smile.

“Yes,” you said, stammering so much this time you scarcely convinced yourself.

soobasaur donated $20

SINCE WHEN DID SCARA HAVE SO MUCH RIZZ?!

As the stream goes on you both fall into a rhythm of getting things done, which mainly includes you thinking you did pretty well and Kuni critiquing it and going in to make it perfect.

There were times you were sure he was just putting on a show for the camera, but the more he did certain gestures the more you realized it was just the way he was around you.

“Do it like this, it’s faster,” Kuni says after watching you struggle to whisk the batter by hand. You think he’s just going to grab the whisk from you and demonstrate for you but instead he comes up behind you and reaches over to grab your wrist. His other hand is on your waist as he controls your hand for a minute. You can barely focus on what he was saying with his weight pressed up against your back.

sakkuur donated $10

i feel like im intruding LMFAO

By some miracle, you both manage to finish the cupcakes. You each divide them by half to decorate but your poor wrist was dying by then so Kuni took over.

“Taste test,” you say, picking out a finished cupcake for yourself as Kuni did the same.

“Kuni isn’t a fan of sweets,” you laugh as you watch Kuni grimace at the intense flavor.

A few crumbs flake off the freshly baked dessert and fall down Kuni’s shirt as he's leaning forward, which had caused the fabric to hang low. He grumbles and sets down the cupcake and reaches up to unbutton his shirt. Your cupcake was long forgotten as you watched his bare chest become exposed, his milky white skin on display for you and the other millions of people watching.

ventismacchiato donated $69

PLS LEAVE THE SHIRT UNBUTTONED OMG

“You should listen to the comments,” you swallow, averting your eyes as soon as Kuni catches you staring.

“No, but I’ll listen if you tell me to,” he counters, a sly smile playing on his lips as he tilts his head at you as he makes a move to button up his shirt once again, “Tell me to stop.”

“You’re so aggravating,” you mutter, reaching over to move his hands out of the way and doing his buttons up for him, “I’ll undo it myself later.”

primviq donated $5

EXCUSE ME WHAT

cartierfiles donated $5

DID I HEAR THAT RIGHT??

cindywasneverhere donated $10

SOMEBODY PLS CLIP THAT

Kuni stares at you with a half-lidded stare, tongue pressed against his cheek as he eyes you.

“Okay,” is all he says before nodding to the camera, “End the stream then.”

You just barely shut the stream off before his hands are all over on you.

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

i cant rmbr if i already used that neck photo but oh well idc, you can ignore the lipstick stains if you’re not comfortable with that and just pretend it’s hickeys cus that what i’m trying to imply

i didnt specify what language scara was learning on duolingo but i think it would be cute if he was learning what the reader’s mother tongue/native language is. and if you only speak english then maybe he’s touching up on french to take you back to paris

lmk if it’s hard to read anything in an ask and i’ll zoom in for you

jungkook in the edit that i slayed

author’s notes — hope the grammar isn’t ass it’s 5am

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos [1/3]

#behind the lens smau #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x reader

[lukesdice]

'Till the Day I Die

Luke Hemmings x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some swearing

Blurb: You hadn’t seen your ex boyfriend in 7 months after he broke your heart, and at a party you finally see him again.

Note: hey :) I wrote this short piece as an introduction to me writing for 5sos! If you have any requests for any of the boys, pls send them in 🖤

The light drizzle of rain tickled the tip of your nose and the ends of your lashes, a chilling breeze causing you to pull your thin jacket tighter around yourself. The muffled beat of lounge rock music drawled through from the patio doors, a light chatter of tipsy voices and clattering mixed in with the soft tunes.

"Have you spoken to Luke tonight?" Calum asked you, taking a short drag from his cigarette and turning to face you as he pressed his elbows to the cool metal on the balcony railing.

You shook your head and sighed, staring out at the darkening view of the city lights.

"Are you going to?"

Smoke tingled with your senses as you wrung your hands together, thinking for a short minute.

"Why can't he speak to me first?" you asked, not once tearing your eyes away from directly looking in front of you.

"He's not going to do that," Calum said, "I think he's scared."

You sighed again.

Calum held out his half-smoked cigarette in front of you, drops of ashes dusting the balcony floor.

You let the smoke inhale into your throat and exhale out of your mouth again, watching the clouds in front of you dance into the chilling air.

"Does he even regret leaving me without even really giving me a reason?" you asked, twisting the cigarette between your fingers a little.

A moment of silence passed.

"He hasn't really spoken much about it" Calum said.

You sighed for a third time.

You handed Calum his cigarette and took a swig of your vodka mixer, it's harsh burn trickling down your throat. You pulled the cup away from your lips and screwed your face into a disgusted frown.

Calum chuckled loudly, "not really a vodka girl huh?"

You shook your head and coughed a little, "but it gets me drunk quick so fuck it" you laughed lightly.

After Calum had finally decided to leave to find another drink, you decided to make your way to the toilet, smiling and waving at a few people on the way. You stared at yourself in the mirror, mascara now slightly smudged and hair a little frizzy from the faint rain. You combed your fingers through it to try and untangle the knots, adjusting your skirt to a more suitable position.

"Fuck" you whispered to yourself, the light buzz in your head from the alcohol kicking in a little.

As you left the bathroom, you noticed Luke from the corner of your eye, his curly blonde hair and sparkly eyeshadow was instantly recognisable. He was wearing his favourite suit trousers and converse, the combo you always thought looked great on him.

He was smiling and laughing with Ashton and some girl, your heart picking up in speed. You knew it was wrong to feel pissed off at the fact he looked happy, you just wanted him to be miserable without you. You knew that sounded cruel but you couldn't help it. You wanted him to feel as broken as you did when he left.

You made your way back to the balcony, now alone, beginning to feel anxious and awkward at the sight of seeing your now ex-boyfriend of 7 months.

"Oh" you heard awkwardly from behind you.

You slowly turned around, your heart now hammering in your chest as you came face to face with Luke.

You stared silently at each other for what felt like five minutes, it becoming obvious to you that Luke hadn't come out here because he knew you were and wanted to see you.

"Sorry" he croaked.

"I didn't know you were out here."

You twisted your lips between your teeth, racking your brain for anything to say back that didn't sound stupid.

"Why? Am I that unbearable to see?" you questioned, not even really aggressively but more in a defeated manner.

Luke cast his eyes away from you for a moment and you could see his cheeks heating up a little with embarrassment.

"No" was all he could say.

"How are you anyway?" you asked, trying your best to make conversation. For some reason you desperately didn't want him to leave, and you wanted at least a minute more with him. Even if your head and heart hurt whenever you looked into his blue eyes.

"I'm fine" he replied, looking uncomfortable in the spot he was standing in but obviously scared to even move a muscle. "You?"

"I'm okay" you told him.

He nodded slightly before turning around to place his hand on the handle of the patio door, ready to re-enter the party.

Your shoulders dropped as you turned back to the view, tears forcing their way to teeter on the edge of your eyelids. You knew seeing him would hurt but you weren't prepared for the actual literal pain it brought.

"Actually I'm shit."

Your eyebrows raised slightly as your body tensed up. You kept your focus on the buildings and cars below you, scared of what to reply and shocked at his admittance.

"I've been shit since we broke up, and it's worse 'cause it's all my fault."

Your mouth felt dry, a tear that had been taunting you fell quickly down your cheek. You brought your hand up to your cheek to wipe it away and it was gone as quickly as it had come.

You had been longing for and imagining this moment over and over, concocting scenarios in your head where he had said this to you in various different ways, but you couldn't even now bring yourself to look at him anymore, never-mind respond.

You heard him sigh and begin to open the door, his footsteps shuffling for a moment before stopping, the music from inside now a little louder.

"I may have fucked up and you may hate me," Luke said quietly from behind you.

"But fucking hell, I know I will love you 'till the day I die."

Your chest rose and fell heavily, another couple of tears crawled down your face, but still no words came to mind. You felt as stuck as a clay statue.

You heard the door shut behind you and the music was instantly muffled again, and you knew that you were alone. A soft quiet sob left your mouth, as you hugged yourself tightly and mentally berated yourself for not saying anything.

After another ten minutes of calming yourself down, you re-entered the party, desperately scanning your eyes around the room for his blonde mop of hair. You couldn't see him anywhere. You began to panic that you had fucked up your chance after he had just literally told you he still loved you.

"He left a few minutes ago" Calum told you as he sloped up to you, a beer grasped in his hands. His eyes were glassy from being a bit too drunk. "You might still catch up to him" he smirked a little, like he was telling you that he knew something you didn't.

You thanked Calum and left through the front door, practically running down the flights of stairs and to the front of the building complex.

There he was, waiting out on the pavement for a taxi.

You cautiously approached him, shivering a little in the nighttime breeze and steady rain.

"I don't hate you" you said, making Luke jump a little at your sudden voice.

He turned to stare into your soul, his bright blue eyes the only thing you could focus on as a small curl tickled his brow, his leather jacket covered in little raindrops and glitter dotted over his cheeks as the rain had migrated it from his eyelids.

"I fucked up Y/N and I'm sorry, so sorry" he suddenly began to ramble without warning, "I don't deserve you, I fuck-" his voice cracked.

You took one step closer to him.

"I was just scared of hurting you or that you would hurt me so I ran away, and I fucking hurt you anyway" he continued, his blue eyes were vast teary oceans.

"Luke" you whispered softly.

He stopped his rambling, as you stood directly in front of him.

"I fucking miss you" you choked out without really thinking as he gave you a wet sad smile in reply.

He opened his mouth to reply but as he did so, his taxi pulled up to the curb, the driver inside motioning for him to hurry. Luke gave him a wave and turned back to you, drinking all of you in as he seemed to fight with himself not to leave you now. Not like this.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked.

"I don't want to be a pain."

"Please" he almost begged you.

You agreed and climbed into the taxi before him, your heart and head in a mess of confusion and intense emotion. You still hadn't quite registered the fact that Luke had finally explained his reason for why he hurt you, even if it was in a few rambled sentences. You still hadn't really taken in the fact that Luke still loved you.

You were both silent in the back of the dim taxi, your hand next to you gripping the edge of the middle seat. You desperately wanted to look at Luke but a part of you felt too rigid with nerves to move your head even a crack.

But as the taxi slowly followed traffic in front, you suddenly felt a warmth upon your hand, your chest fluttering a little as you looked over at Luke's hand on yours.

You let him intertwine his fingers with yours, resting your entangled hands on the middle seat, neither of you spoke a word but a thousand feelings were exchanged.

Luke softly squeezed your hand like he always used to, and a small smile tickled the corners of your lips, because you hadn't felt these innocently romantic feelings since you had first met.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #michael clifford #5sos fic #luke hemmings fic #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings x reader #5sos x reader #5sos imagine #calum hood x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you #ashton irwin x reader #michael clifford x reader

[chuplayswithfire]

Modern AU Stede is incredibly funny because he is incredibly cringe and obtuse in a well-meaning but embarrassing way. Like, you can translate his introduction to Spanish Jackie's bar and his approach to piracy in so many ways:

He's the guy who opens up a tattoo parlor and has all of the tattoo machines and ink and the designs and then decides well, guess I should learn how to tattoo!

He's the guy who opens a gay bar because he's always wanted to be part of an inclusive community and buys all of the liquors and mixers and gets the permits and hires the staff and then thinks to himself, well I guess it's time to learn how to mix drinks!

He's the guy who gets himself a table in artist's alley at San Diego Comic Con and then decides well it's time to learn how to draw!

He spends all the money and procures items needed to succeed first and acquires the practical skill dead last. He introduces himself in flamboyant and quite frankly embarrassing ways, never fits in, is always doing his own thing, and it's embarrassing as hell, but it's also utterly endearing.

He's not the guy who comes in and demands that people change their behavior or conform to standard, but he is the guy who utterly fails to understand the social norms of the room he's burst into.

#ofmd #stede bonnet #our flag means death #i love him so much

[lebiishoujo]

Headcanon/Prompt:

Todoroki x Female MC

8 years after HaLWX

Todoroki Yosuke, along with the other full-time Oyakou members, has created a private security agency with Todoroki as the CEO.

He still remains as stoic as he is but takes his job very seriously.

He easily gets stressed and pissed when an assignment has some issues but relying on his friends (Fujio and the gang) always helps resolve the issues.

As Oyakou alumni, they still look after the district as part of their mission (Todoroki assigned Fujio to lead this group).

Though very diligent, with the help of his friends, he has learned to take things easy and unwind when they could.

He hasn't dated in a long time because most girls just go after his looks and status, so he mainly focused on his responsibilities and only hang out with his friends (including Odajima).

The boys once again set up a dating mixer and upon remembering the funny and failed encounter they had back in high school, Todoroki decided to go just to witness his friends fail hitting on girls for the hundredth time.

You are finishing your master's degree.

You are working part time on a bakery (since you started college) to help pay for your expenses.

You also haven't dated since your 3rd year in college because your last boyfriend cheated on you.

Your best friend from the same department tagged you along (by force) to go to a dating mixer because she thought it's time for you to get to know someone.

During the mixer, Todoroki immediately caught your eye because of how he carried himself. Something about him was different from the other guys.

While doing the introductions, he only curtly bowed to you, so you took it as him not being interested in you.

He was the quiet type but also wasn't dismissive when being talked to. He didn't crack jokes like his friends, but he smiled, smirked, or laughed when he found something funny.

Still, you couldn't help but steal glances at him because when he laughed or smiled at one of his friends' jokes, it made your heart skip a beat.

It was obvious that he was annoyed at the girls who were pushy and aggressively flirted with him, but he was being a gentleman on how he turned their advances down.

You easily got along with his friends (some from Oyakou, some from Housen) because they were so funny, and they enjoyed your comebacks.

In the middle of it all, your best friend and Odajima were in their own world, your best friend completely forgetting about you. She looked happy and they obviously liked each other, so you didn't get in their way.

Those who found each other interesting also started pairing up and talked to each other.

Feeling out of place and a little skeptical about mixer relationships, you decided to head outside for a breath of fresh air.

You were startled when a manly voice suddenly asked you if you regretted coming. When you turned around, it was Todoroki who was already outside long before you, reading something from his phone.

He told you he recognized you as one of the girls from the mixer and that he thought his friends could handle themselves, so they probably don't need him around.

You told him about your best friend being engrossed with a conversation with Odajima. He told you that if Odajima found your friend interesting, you might as well consider going home alone. He awkwardly paused and stuttered because he realized the rudeness of his joke and his reaction made you laugh, taking zero offense to what he said.

You exchanged jokes and laughs with each other, mainly about his friends.

Small talks led to you telling each other about yourselves.

When he noticed you were slightly trembling from the chilly night breeze, he asked you if you wanted to go to a cafe somewhere.

You tried your best to conceal how surprised you were at his offer. You couldn't believe that he might be a little interested in you and the conversation you already had. Wearing the most casual smile you could, you agreed.

None of you used the map to look for a cafe nearby and just strolled around the block and the next, carrying on with your random topics.

At the coffee shop, your conversation with him continued smoothly and naturally without being forced.

It was already past 2:00 AM when you both remembered to check the time.

While you were both silently waiting for the ride you booked for yourself on your phone, he broke the silence and asked for your number.

You were smiling like a teenager on the ride home thinking about Todoroki and any interesting thing he mentioned to you that night.

Your phone pinged, "Good night. Would be nice to see you again soon (if you'd like). -Todoroki," an unknown number texted you.

That night, you know for sure, you've finally come to like someone again after a long time.

#todoroki yousuke #todoroki yosuke #yosuke todoroki #high and low #high & low x reader #high and low the worst #high and low the worst cross #high&low #todoroki yosuke x reader #high & low #high & low the worst cross #HiLo #maeda gouki #maeda goki #goki maeda #gouki maeda #high and low x reader

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

emily, i’m sorry

boy genius (the record) masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

18+ : super mild smut, kissing, alcohol consumption, implied alcohol use as a coping mechanism, smoking, angst, right person wrong time, a double dose of mommy issues, happy ending

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i started writing this so long ago and i feel like i only really like the last 500 words or smth 💀

You’d been sitting behind Emily since the beginning of the semester, two months in without an introduction, merely observing from afar. You’d never thought yourself to be a person to fall into those romantic clichés with your chin resting in the palm of your hand and your eyes on the side of her face instead of the professor at the front of the class.

Finding yourself smiling at the sound of her laugh, eyes darting away from her direction when she’d glance towards you. Because she’d noticed you too.

By chance your paths finally crossed at a party, a spilling of your overly strong drink from the red cup onto her arm and a rushed apology.

“Get me another drink and all is forgiven.” She smiled with a hand on your waist to keep you close as you made your way through drunken college students into the brightly lit kitchen. You’d never seen her this closely, her dark hazel eyes lined black and equally dark hair pushed behind her ear.

“So, what can I get you?” You asked, looking over the options scattered messily on the kitchen counter, space taken up by tipped over plastic cups and spilled liquor and mixers making the surface sticky. “We have beer, cheap vodka, something blue,” you twisted bottles to see their labels with a shrug at the poor selection the student budget could afford. “Or cheap vodka.”

“I’ll have what you’re having then.” Emily laughed, leaning her hip against the counter as she watched you pour bottles into two cups. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

You lifted a brow at her statement with a small smile as you passed her the drink. “You have?”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t wanna talk to a pretty girl like you?” She was bolder than you’d expected, what with the way you’d seen her blush.

“Well I’m glad you finally did.”

“Oh, so you’ve been waiting for this then, hm?” She smirked, keeping a fixed gaze on you over the top of her cup as she swigged at its contents.

“No, I was just getting a little tired of you staring at me so much.” You huffed mockingly, grinning into your drink at the way she stumbled over a response.

“I find that hard to believe,” she finally uttered, inching closer with a hint of alcohol on her breath. “I know you’ve been pining after me. It’s cute.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Emily.”

Her name sounded delicious as it rolled off your tongue and she just had to hear it again. She was overcome with a need for you, to talk with you and dance with you and learn each centimetre of your skin.

Neither of you were very good at dancing, especially with the liquor pumping through your veins, heads dazed with the buzz and a coating of sweat lining your foreheads. She kept you close, a hold more possessive than you’d expected on your hips moving your bodies together.

She dragged you away to somewhere quieter where you could actually hear the mutterings of one another’s voices. You got to know each other as well as two drunk people could, conversations barely scratching the surface but in the back of your mind you knew there’d be more time for that. You could hardly let her go now.

The closeness of your bodies set your skin alight, hardly able to keep your eyes off her. The way her fingers held a cigarette and her lips parted with a stream of smoke. You could taste it on one another’s tongues when she finally kissed you, escaping to a bathroom with your body perched atop the counter; the flavour of ash and coca cola, the bitterness of vodka and the sweetness of cherry lip gloss.

The way she slotted her lips with yours was sublime, a heat pulsing through you at the hand on the back of your neck. Her hair was soft and perfect between your fingers and the sound of a moan falling from her throat to yours made your stomach flip.

Movements were sloppy and fuelled with drunkenness and lust, a building tension of the evening finally being untangled in the transference of warm hands beneath your shirt. Her touch wandered desperately and yours was just as hungry, grabbing at any part of her you could reach, the material of her t-shirt clenched in your fist.

Neither of you thought it through, giggling in your tipsy haze when she haphazardly pulled your jeans down your legs and trailed her nails upwards across the skin of your thighs. Her breath was hot against the column of your throat where her lips lay kisses and licks of her tongue, her teeth grazed the crook of your neck while her fingers inched past the waistband of your underwear.

Your head fell backwards and your hands kept her head where it was, where she made you dizzy with sucks against your flesh. It was as though she’d already learnt your body off by heart with the way her fingers pulled noises from you that the both of you could only hope were kept within the four walls of the bathroom. With your legs wrapped around her waist you were as close as you could be, the heat of each other’s bodies pulsing through you like lightning and a thick tension simmering.

It was a moment you’d come to find amusing, being walked in on by a girl stumbling over her heels. It would become a memory of that first night together, that fateful night you met and you’d laugh wondering where that stranger was now.

–

It was routine by now to be sprawled on the living room floor with textbooks and papers scattered in front of you. Overused highlighters scratched across printed sheets with a bright pink left behind, less and less information seeping into your brains as the hours would add up.

You’d forgone buying desks, using your shared apartment floor as an infinite display of university work - it was a definite benefit of sharing a degree with your girlfriend.

Your evenings were either spent with bleary eyes straining to read for hours on end, shooting one another questions to test knowledge whilst you drank copious amounts of coffee. Or you’d be dancing together tipsily with a bunch of other students, rooms blurred with smoke, smelling like cigarettes and the sourness of cheap beer.

You were happy together, you could never imagine your love for Emily to fade away.

There was a perfectly intimate domesticity between you; smiling conversations half asleep over breakfast and evenings watching tv, lighting incense and candles to mask the smell of nicotine.

She’d smiled to herself this evening at the sight of you staring at the ceiling in frustrated boredom, lying on your back on the ground with an open textbook face down on your chest. You’d been studying for a while and she could see the burnout all over you.

She went to the kitchen wordlessly and poured two glasses of the cheap wine from the kitchen counter; she always swore she’d be able to afford the good stuff when she was older.

When she came back you took it from her with an appreciative smile.

“You read my mind, Em.”

“Reading your mind is a stretch, I just saw you staring at the ceiling despondently and I know you like the back of my hand.” She laughed and you shrugged - she wasn’t wrong.

“I bet you can’t guess what I’m thinking now then.”

“I think I have an idea.” She smirked, letting you take another sip of your drink before she took your glass and set it aside, lowering herself to straddle your legs. She pushed your back against the ground with her lips ghosting yours with her voice. “Something like this?”

The taste of her lips was so familiar, cigarettes and wine. They pushed into yours sublimely with her hand cupping your cheek while yours held her closely by her belt loops. The kiss grew heated as it always did, that perfect electrical heat that never failed to make your skin alight with goosebumps and your body arch into hers in an effort to get closer than possible.

“There’s a party across campus. Wanna go?” Emily muttered once she’d pulled away to catch her breath. Of course you agreed, diving head first into a night of liquor fuelled sex, rooms misty with smoke. Intoxicated by each other, dizzy from the lust.

—

And now you’re walking home alone, feet scuffing against the loose debris along the cement with your dazed steps, struggling to keep your footsteps linear with the way your head buzzed with the swill of unmoderated alcohol.

It wasn’t the same without Emily. Parties were just an excuse to get drunk, to let your mind finally drift away, distracted by the overly loud music and crowds of people hiding you away. They used to be fun, a way to let yourselves loose, drinking together and laughing and enjoying the night before giggling drunkenly on your way home.

But you were here and Emily was at home, her head buried in textbooks as she crammed for the same exams you should be focussing on.

It’s hard to know when it began to go downhill, when the parties stopped being fun and the stress of graduation overtook you both. When you started to spend more and more time apart with different focuses and goals.

All you’d yearned after for so long was a freedom your bones ached for. Free from the judging gaze of your mother, living up to the expectations she loomed above your head. And you’d found it, you felt liberated, truly able to smile and laugh and party with friends. You were finally figuring out who you are with this freedom you’d always wanted, who you are with Emily and on your own; who you are in your own apartment and in the cafe down the street.

You just want to be free but even this freedom is dotted with downsides.

While you’re making your way home to her, Emily is finishing another cup of coffee, blinking away the exhaustion in her eyes in hopes to unblur the words on the paper in front of her.

She could only sigh when she looked at the clock. 1am and you weren’t home, it wasn’t new but it was frustrating. It was frustrating how your newfound freedoms had led you down different paths.

Sure, she was no longer living with her mother, peering over her shoulder with bated breath waiting for her to fail. Her freedom may be literal, oftentimes in a differing country to the ambassador, but nothing had truly changed. Elizabeth’s voice was always there in the back of her mind, with each assignment and exam. Each time her phone would ring she’d prepare herself with a deep breath before trying to appease her mother on the other end.

Keep her happy, keep her proud and satisfied at her academic progress. She’d placate and be agreeable, thanking her for helping her pay for the apartment all whilst fidgeting with the lighter in her pocket, desperate to ease the anxious tension her mother never failed to arise in her.

With each passage highlighted, page turned and hand cramped from scribbling notes for too long, she thought of Elizabeth. The standards she couldn’t help but stare at with each decision she made. She’d tried to let herself live and breathe but she wasn’t ready to be free yet. She knew she would be eventually but for now she needs to get her degree, excel or disappoint, and let herself be free with you.

You were the only true freedom she could hold on to but she could feel it slipping away.

The door closed behind you when she poured herself another cup of crappy coffee and she habitually grabbed another mug - your favourite one with the chip in the handle.

You took it from the counter with an appreciative smile when she pushed it towards you and you both sipped without a word. It was quiet. Too quiet. Neither of you knew what to say, there were so many words you wanted to utter yet neither of you could form any.

“I thought you weren’t gonna be out so late tonight.” She murmured to break the silence.

“I lost track of time.” You shrugged with the slightest slur decorating your words.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“I didn’t realise I had a curfew.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know that.” Emily sighed. “We’re about to graduate and you’re out at any party you can find while I work my ass off. You’re not taking it seriously.”

“My grades are fine, Emily. I just want to feel like I have a life outside of all this.”

“Well I can’t keep being woken up with you stumbling in at night. I can’t keep being interrupted by you coming back drunk when I’m studying. You know I can’t afford to fuck this up.”

“I know.”

“It’s like we’re on different wavelengths.”

“I know.”

You couldn’t meet each other’s eyes with the way they stung with tears, so scared that you’d both break with just a glance.

“I love you so much but it’s as though we’re different people now, y’know?” Emily uttered through a shaking voice, wiping at the tear on her cheek with the end of her sleeve.

“Mhm.” You nodded, clearing your throat to find your voice again. “We’re not who we were at the beginning. We’ve changed.”

You’re so right for each other. Perfect. But the world is cruel and time is painful and sometimes things don’t align the way they should.

“I love you, Emily. I’m so sorry. I wish I could be better for you. I wish I didn’t feel so suffocated and trapped in this hole that I’m trying to climb out of. The hole my mother buried me in. God, I wish I could be better for you.”

“No. You don’t have to be sorry.” She returned with tears matching your own and her arms wrapping around your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong. We’re just not ready for the same things. The timing isn’t right, no matter how much it fucking hurts my heart to admit.”

The taste of salt coated your lips when you kissed and each breath that sounded in the room was stuttered, lingering in an embrace you so desperately wished to last forever. It was unspoken for now, you’d work out the formalities another time but for tonight you let yourselves live the night with freedom. Teary freedom with each other, kisses and touches so perfect, falling asleep entwined with puffy eyes.

“You are the truest love I could have ever imagined.” Emily whispered. “Nothing could ever take away this feeling I have for you. I think it was created for you. I think that you were made for me.”

“You will always have my heart, Em. I can only dream of one day being able to take it back.”

—

Years passed. So many years with an Emily shaped space looming near. Though she lived in the back of your mind it wasn’t uncommon for her to be the only thought your brain could focus on. But that was a different time. You hadn’t seen her since graduation and even that was merely a smile across the room, you couldn’t bear anything more, not with the inevitable ending. You’d thought it best to interact as little as possible, sparing yourselves of the agony. There was no cure for the pain, only the numbing of time.

The ding of the elevator closing behind you was the beginning of your new job, the career you’d been working towards. A bubbly blonde grinning at you from across the room caught you off guard and her excited announcement made you want to hide your face in embarrassment.

“You must be the newbie.” She smiled with quick steps carrying her towards you. “I’m Penelope Garcia.” She introduced with an excited shake of your hand with hers as she guided you towards the others.

She looked the same. Her jaw was sharper maybe and her eyes sported lines of laughter but it was still her. Emily Prentiss, the one who’d kept your heart. Perhaps you could feel the thumping in your chest again if she’d be so gracious to let you. If she could forgive you.

You didn’t quite know what to expect. Would she pretend your past was nothing, brush you off like a tarnish? Would she unleash some kind of anger she’d been holding onto, send you running, wishing you’d never even applied to this job? You felt your palms grow clammy with the way her eyes were so set on yours, unwavering for what felt like eternity.

It was like it was just the two of you, soul peering into soul. And then you had your answer, as though nothing had soured between you. Like the clock that once was broken had been repaired and the time that once controlled you was being steered into place by your own wanting hands.

She smiled that smile you’d been dreaming of for all this time; a beaming upturn of her lips that told you all she wanted you to know, that she still held your heart for safe keeping. That just seeing you again, both of you free, standing on the line of time with one foot in front of the other, was all she ever needed. You were the same people but time had changed for the better.

And in that moment, for the first time since that night, you had your heart again.

And you smiled back.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Never Quite Enough//2

Read part 1 here

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, harassment, mentions of sexual situations, violence and blood as well.

He wasn't expecting you to look this put together.

It was as if nothing had ever happened between you at all. The thought had speared into his heart and gutted him like a fish.

A week had passed, you'd feigned sickness. Billy had agonised himself the entire week, only truly focused on firing Andrew and Walter and the two others who had roped him into the bet and sold him out in front of you. It didn't change a thing. You still wouldn't answer his calls, you still wouldn't hear him out.

Billy was truly, inexplicably, the worst human to ever walk the planet.

He almost crumbled to his knees when he stepped into the conference room the following Monday and saw you busy reading over something written on a while legal pad. You were a temporary replacement for your boss who couldn't make it at the last minute. Your hair was put together, the cut of your eyeliner sharp, daring him to speak to you.

You'd looked up, met his eyes, and then back to the note pad. No expression. No recognition in your cold eyes.

He should crumble anyway.

When you'd addressed him as 'Mister Russo,' when the meeting had concluded and you'd prepared your things to leave, he wanted to scream.

How could he know what his name sounded like, rushing past your lips on a mindblowing orgasm, and still be sane after?

He'd could still hear it now, his name on your lips after rough, sweet sex, your hands in his hair and his mouth latched to the spot above your breast and all he can hear is 'BillyBillyBillyBilly.'

But now, he had become 'Mister Russo,' once again.

.

At least you knew what everyone thought of you now. At least you didn't have to make excuses for someone when they spoke over you, or completely extracted you from every plan.

At least you knew that no one really minded when you smiled, backed away, and returned to your desk to sit alone.

It was easier to extricate yourself... until it wasn't.

Your boss had put you in charge of the new trainee, Dex, who'd just finished college and ached to go to every after-work mixer possible.

He'd pleaded with you to come along, needed the introductions, and you'd sighed and obliged him.

Dex was extroverted, smiled a lot, shy but he could light up a room. Everyone was drawn to him, happy to get to know him.

You just stood by his side, smiled, introduced him to whoever he asked.

The music in the bar was low to encourage conversation, but loud enough to enjoy too. Every now and then, Dex would glance at you and smile, and you'd be forced to smile back.

You couldn't let your eyes wander. You didn't want to catch sight of...him. You wonder what new thing he'd decided to bet on, maybe another woman.

The thought sobers you. You look around the room. There was no way you'd let him do this to someone else-

Billy's eyes are already locked on you.

Shit.... shit! You look down at your shoes.

Well, he didn't look like he was talking to anyone anyway, but you decide to keep a distant eye on him, a little weary that he'd try to do this to someone else.

Though, it wasn't like anyone else was as difficult to be around as you were.

You sigh.

.

Billy can see it.

In the way you limit your interactions, in the way you hardly smile. You look down at your shoes so much and he has to find a way to accept that this... this is what he's done to you.

He can't figure out how to fix it, should he just apologise? Or find a way to include you in more activities so that people can see the real you? You probably hated him so much now.

He sighs, taking a slow sip of his beer, chipping in to the casual conversation of the people around him and he uses it as a way to keep his eyes on you.

He'd really taken your advice- seen a therapist- he hadn't been able to work up the courage to tell Frank what he'd done. His therapist had advised him to work on himself, and not be so focused on chasing you and getting you back. Billy was told to accept the possibility that he may never get you back.

He was going to fire his new therapist.

The want he had for you was so visceral. He wanted to take your hands in his and drop to his knees and beg and beg and beg even though he'd barely knew you. The thought embarrassed him, made him ashamed, made him hate himself.

And still, his mind wouldn't rid him of the thoughts, of your laughter, your soft skin, the taste of your lips. It was like you were everywhere around him, everywhere he looked, all he saw was you. Your influence on him had ruined the very way he saw the world and now he was tainted by your touch.

He watches your eyes fixed to your beer, smiling along to the conversation and not really involving yourself. His chest aches. Every scenario he imagines to find a way to talk to you fails.

.

You bump into him on your way out of the bathroom.

You're not watching where you're going, just trying to think of an excuse to get out of here when you smack right into him.

You don't have to look up at his face. The scent alone sets familiarity into your bones and you know it's him by the grip of his hands on your shoulders and the shine of his shoes.

"Sorry." You say quickly, pulling out of his grip to step to the side. He moves with you, and you sigh, staying in place when he moves again to get out of your way.

"Don't apologise to me," He says softly, voice barely abovea whisper, "I don't deserve it."

You nod, turning away, pausing when he says your name, your eyes fall shut at the sound.

"I never- none of it- you're not-" he lets out a frustrated breath, shaking his fist. You think you should just put him out of his misery and walk away.

"You mean a lot to me." He finally blurts when you take a step away from him. You blink down at the floor.

"I can't stop thinking about you." He finishes.

You finally look up into his eyes, and you watch his breath catch in his throat.

"You really are a good actor," you muse to yourself, "If I didn't know any better I'd think it were true."

"It is. It is-"

The shake of your head stops him from speaking, a wry, upward tilt of your lips

"I know better now. It won't work on me." You say, walking away.

.

Maybe he was getting triple to get you back? You ponder, staring into the amber liquid of your beer. Maybe he was making double or nothing if he managed to lure you back into his arms. A little game of how low were your standards? Or how good at manipulation was Billy?

Regardless, it wouldn't work, because you couldn't really feel anything anymore. There was no love or hate or anger inside of you. There was... nothing, and you'd hoped Billy could see it in your eyes when you looked at him.

.

It was worse than dying. To have you look at him with empty eyes. The stabbing feeling in his chest wouldn't go away. Did you really not feel anything for him anymore? He remembers only a week ago when your eyes had been warm with the aftereffects of your orgasm. You'd smiled at him as you came down from your high, kissing him in the heat of the moment, he could still taste you on his tongue.

But when you'd looked at him just now. It was like you didn't even know him.

He rubs at his chest, deep in thought, only blinking up when someone asks him his opinion.

.

Dex won't stop flirting with you. You don't know how to tell him you're not interested. He smiles and he bumps his shoulder against yours and you return his smile with a smaller one of your own but you know he's not going to give up.

So, in your desperation, when he asks if you have any pets, you respond easily with, "Not me, but my boyfriend has a cat named Butter."

You see it, the flinch of his eyebrow as he processes your words.

"Oh? You have a boyfriend?" He asks casually.

You slam your brain trying to remember any details you have about Butter's owner."

"Yeah. Matt, he's a- a lawyer." You say, smiling.

Oh, but this actually opens up a lot of doors for you, because while Dex pulls back on his flirting, you get to glance at your phone, with a smile.

"Speaking of, Matt's working late tonight so I'll have to leave soon to feed Butter." You grin, feeling like you've accomplished the impossible by creating a fake boyfriend.

You slip off your seat, rising to a stand.

"I'll see you on Monday, yeah? Have fun." You wave goodbye.

Dex doesn't protest and you grin the entire way out.

Until the cold air of the night hits you and you realise that you just made up a fake relationship, because you're not good enough to have a real one.

You sigh.

.

Regardless, your imaginary boyfriend Matt means you get to shy away from all types of flirting with absolutely zero consequences. It's a little disgusting that some men need to know you're taken in order to back off, but you're not out here trying to change every random man that can't take no for an answer, you're only just trying to survive.

But one day it's not enough, and a client persists on his advances, commenting on the fact that he doesn't see a ring.

So, you go shopping for one.

And you gladly sport the antique ring on your left hand, and things aren't too bad, because you can exist in your shell without friends and without company and with an occasional intruding cat coming around.

And for a brief moment, it's not so bad.

That is, until you bump into Frank Castle in the elevator.

You smile politely, but you can tell Frank is intent on conversation. You make short responses, about some of your sales, and some upcoming deliveries, and then he notices the ring.

You don’t even realise he's seen it. When he goes quiet, you think it's hopefully because he gets the message that you're not interested in talking.

"Did Billy get you that?" Frank asks, eyebrows furrowed, nodding in the direction of the ring.

You know Frank is usually managing other branches in other cities, but you didn't know he was this out of the loop.

"I- you- Billy didn't tell you?" You ask.

Frank raises his eyebrows curiously.

"We- he- I broke up with him." You say quietly.

The elevator opens and you smile stepping out.

"Can I ask why?" Frank's quiet voice follows in step beside you.

Like a deer caught in headlights, you look up at him in shock and surprise.

You're surprised to know he didn't know, but you take a sick satisfaction in telling him. You give Frank every detail you know, watching his face move from astonishment to anger, and you realise that Frank Castle is too good of a man to be associated with Billy.

He's able to calm his anger for a moment.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

You look down at your feet. You can't meet his eyes.

"Yeah I'm fine." You murmur in a light, casual voice, "but I have to get home, so I'll see you around, yeah?"

Frank doesn't leave before taking you into his arms.

The sensation almost breaks you.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, giving him a weak smile as you turn to leave.

.

When Frank swings on Billy, he aims right for the mouth.

He doesn't stop, but Billy is too quick, and when he swings again, his fist only brushes the side of his head.

"What the fuck, Frank!" Billy shouts, backing away, pressed against his desk, one hand pressed to his mouth where his lips is split and bleeding.

Frank though, is calm, he had time on the elevator ride up to figure out what he was going to say.

"She was probably the best thing to ever happen to a little shit like you." Frank spits.

Billy's eyes widen in realisation. There's a long moment of silence, before Frank can see the pain shine in Billy's eyes.

"I know she was." Billy agrees, dropping his hand from his mouth, letting the blood flow.

"I've never seen someone make you that happy. Hell, Bill, I didn't even know you could get that happy."

Billy's shoulders drop.

"I didn't know how amazing she was, I took the bet, and when I realised... I was planning on staying with her, but..."

"But she found out." Frank finishes for Billy, watching the man nod, blood dripping down his chin.

"I want her back, Frankie." Billy says in such a small voice that Frank can almost blink and see a little boy and not a seasoned soldier.

Frank takes a few steps, and Billy looks at him wearily as he approaches, his eyes are watery, and unsure, but Billy doesn't move, accepting of any punishment Frank wants to dole out.

Instead, Frank wraps his arms around Billy, and he feels Billy let out a broken sob.

"I'm the worst fucking person." Billy says into Frank's shoulder.

"You're not, Bill. You just made a mistake, a bad one. You're not a bad person because of it." Frank says. Billy continues to cry.

His tears and blood soak into Frank's shirt, but it's a small price to pay to support his brother.

"Help me get her back... please."

Frank sighs.

"Bill- it might be too late. She- she's wearin' a ring."

Billy pulls away, mouth parted in shock.

"What do you mean she's wearing a ring?"

.

.

.

#billy russo #ben barnes #billy russo x reader #my writings #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #frank castle

[knivestothroats]

ITWS/ProVic Crossover Event Of The Century (part 1)

This is a crossover of In The Woods Somewhere by me and Professional//Victim by @victimeyez. Part 2 is here. Content warnings: Captivity, discussion of torture, discussion of sex trafficking, drug and alcohol use

Fletcher owned one suit. It lived in the back of their closet next to their old lucky leather jacket. They figured they used up all the luck when they took a bullet to the chest and didn’t die, so it had been cleaned of blood and retired.

The suit only came out for dinner parties Fletcher grudgingly attended for networking purposes. This one was a business mixer someone had rented out a ballroom at a hotel for. Almost a two hour drive for Fletcher, but it’s not like events were being hosted in the woods.

They combed back their hair neatly. But they couldn’t stand to look at their reflection, so they tousled it again. Stylishly. 

Fletcher scanned the room for familiar faces when they walked in. Not wanting to make an immediate beeline for the bar, they walked to it casually instead and ordered an old fashioned. Something to hold and sip would help them look and feel more at ease, less awkward and out of place. They leaned against the bar for a moment, surveying the crowd again. Still, no one they knew. That meant it was time for cold introductions. 

It was what these events were for, but… ugh.

Fletcher’s eyes landed on an intriguing pair. One was on the taller side. He was wearing a blazer over a turtleneck, silver wire-frame glasses, and his hair in a half pony. One hand held a cocktail, and the other was planted firmly on the shoulder of a slightly shorter man. He had dark curls falling around a gaunt but pretty face. Shadows clung under his eyes, which drifted nervously around the room before returning to the floor. He was dressed in black slacks, a white button-down shirt that hung a bit loosely on his frame, and most notably, a red leather collar with gold details.

If nothing else, they were the most interesting.

Fletcher approached the pair. They held their hand out to the taller man. 

“The name’s Fletcher, nice to meet you.”

He took it gladly, with a firm but non-threatening grip. "I’m Caius, and my friend here is Tommy."

Fletcher managed to refrain from cringing at the name. They glanced in his direction in time to catch Tommy looking at them nervously before turning his head away. Fletcher hadn’t intended to offer their hand to him - the power dynamics were clear here - but now they barely wanted to look at him. 

It wasn’t an uncommon name, but it still struck a chord every time they heard it.

"What business venture are you two representing?" Fletcher asked, shifting their attention back towards Caius.

With practiced ease, Caius pulled a business card from his jacket pocket and held it out to Fletcher between two fingers. "We make dreams come true."

Oh, Jesus. Fletcher raised their eyebrows just briefly as they took the card. An almost velvety texture, sharp edges, silvery print. “Personalized entertainment,” followed by a phone number. Fletcher flipped it over to a blank back. 

"How very enlightening," they said dryly.

"You'll have to forgive me for being discreet. Tommy works for us as a private entertainer, of the torture fantasy variety. He's very responsive to direction, and… stimulus. He's less of a call boy, there are a lot of rules if you want to fuck him." Caius smirked on the word "fuck." He spoke with an even, telemarketer tone throughout.

Tommy wasn't facing Fletcher head-on, but his eyes were focused on them just to the side. He squinted slightly, as if trying to think of something.

"Hm." Responded Fletcher flatly. "So, torture is a free for all, but sex has conditions."

"We have ways of fixing most things, but penicillin can only do so much.” Caius said. “We have a state-of-the-art lab for flash healing and scar-free recoveries. He's a blank slate every time." 

To the side, Tommy's gaze lowered, filtered by long eyelashes. Fletcher turned their sights back on him, sizing him up from a new perspective. He was pretty, in a frail way. Timid, most likely beaten into submission. Collared, but not leashed; that meant he could be trusted to follow orders, at least to some extent. He had the allure of a prey animal to a predator like themself. Caius had chosen well. Or molded him well. 

“Which do you get more requests for?” Fletcher asked, returning their attention to Caius. “Torture or sex?”

Caius grinned wolfishly. "Torture - sex is cheaper from anyone else." He tipped back his drink for another sip, but did not take his eyes off of Fletcher for one long gulp. It was weird. He made it weird. "I'm sure customers like you get it for free."

"Customers like me?" Fletcher echoed. "What makes me so special?"

Caius cocked his head, shifting gears. "You tell me. Who are you, sharp stranger?"

Ok, so definitely the type who thinks flirting with customers will help him close deals. Fletcher answered unaffected. "I run a training operation. People send me new recruits or nepo babies that aren't living up to expectations and I teach them the skills to be productive members of criminal society. Mercs, mobs, murderers of all kinds. Done work with a lot of families and guilds, hoping to make some more connections tonight."

"Aren't we all." Caius looked around the room briefly. "We will be doing a demonstration later, hoping to drum up some noise for our service." Tommy was a statue at his side, staring off into space like he had drifted from his body. At least for now, while he didn’t have pain to pin him in place. "Maybe you could help me out - you see, I don't want to get this blazer stained... and you could use a bit of color."

"Mm," Fletcher took a sip of their drink. "People usually pay me for that kind of service. I come highly requested. Or I did, when that was my game."

"People usually pay me for that kind of service. Or at least… providing the body. But look at us - we could be here, right now, making a connection."

He was laying it on thick. Fletcher tried to retake control of the direction the conversation was heading. "Not sure if I should be surprised that there’s a market for it. Obviously this is a more major industry than people realize,” they gestured around the room, “but in my experience, not everyone wants to get their hands dirty. Not that dirty, anyway. Not everyone has the stomach for it, let alone the appetite. What's the going rate for something like this?"

"It depends on what you have in mind. Time, tools, location, severity. You could get a quote from my associate over there," Caius said, pointing to a neatly groomed salesman with short, ginger hair. The gesture caught the attention of said associate, whose eyes widened upon seeing Caius talking to a potential client. He rushed over, trying not to look panicked. 

"Hi, hello, I'm Rory." Slightly out of breath, he stuck out his hand for Fletcher. "I see you've...met Caius."

Fletcher shook his hand. "Fletcher. Pleasure. You handle the finances for this operation, then?"

He gave a short, biting laugh. His chill, easygoing sales persona was slightly tight on him at the moment. "Yes, I do, you don't have to give Caius any money, all the payments are processed through me."

Fletcher chuckled. "Caius wasn't trying to shake me down. I was just wondering what you charge for this sort of service. Although it sounds like it varies. You have a ballpark, or a range?”

"Well, it depends on a few factors, yeah. Tools, time, location, severity. But if you can tell me a little about what you have in mind, I can get you one right away." Rory flashed a winning smile. "And if I may, you might be interested in a special contraption my associate has made, which we'll also be demonstrating later today. Maximum pain for minimal effort sort of thing, if you don't want to get your hands dirty. Or if you do." He raised a conspiratorial eyebrow, leading the upsell with practiced charm.

"Mostly just asking out of curiosity," Fletcher said. "What's the contraption?"

"The Cradle," Caius easily volunteered. "Michelle is making toys now, and they're just so inspired." Whatever the contraption was, the mention of it seemed to snap Tommy out of his reverie. He promptly switched to a more refined look of abject misery.

Fletcher caught the change in demeanor. "It rocks them gently to sleep, I take it?"

"Something like that. You'll have to catch the whole spiel when we do the demonstration. Then maybe you can do a demonstration for me." 

Fletcher had been trying to be diplomatic, but that was a bit much. "Ok, slow your roll, bud. You’re laying it on way too thick right now and I’m gonna need you to tone it down.”

Rory very firmly stepped on Caius's foot, and he dropped his smile suddenly to a more neutral expression. "One hour, ballroom stage. See it for yourself. Come and join the fun, or don't."

He spoke matter-of-factly, betraying no emotion if he was insulted by Fletcher's rebuke. Rory gave Fletcher a tight smile and moved to pull Caius away by his arm. "Caius, come get a drink with me." 

Sweat was beginning to form on the ginger salesman’s forehead. Bags forming under his eyes, slight jitters in his hands - probably due for another bump. Caius resisted for a moment, seeming to consider. Tommy moved in to Caius's other side and subtly touched the sleeve by the man's relaxed arm. Caius turned at the touch and they met eyes, exchanging something wordless shared with just a look. Caius walked away amicably with Rory, but Tommy stood there, staring at Fletcher. Studying their face for a moment before telling them, with a defeated voice, "I know what you want."

Fletcher raised their eyebrows. "And what is that?"

Tommy did not keep a prideful look, he just looked experienced. Performing an unpleasant role that had long become old hat to him. "You like it when they squirm."

Fletcher smiled, flashing teeth. They took a step closer to Tommy. "How long have you been... doing this?"

"A while. Around five years, as far as I can tell. They don't let me put tallies on the walls."

Fletcher folded one arm across their chest and left the other loose to swirl their glass. They thought of a number of questions, but weren't sure if they wanted to know the answers. There was a certain level of detachment that made everything easier. Asking how he ended up in his position may be tempting, but hearing his story could create sympathetic feelings that Fletcher would inevitably have to smash down when they left him at the end of the night. Because they sure as fuck weren't going to rescue him like an abused dog. He could have been an enemy who crossed them and lost, he could be a random victim picked up off the street. It didn't make a difference. 

"Caius said you fulfill fantasies. You've gotten good at figuring out what people want, then."

"I had to."

"You're better at it than your owner." Fletcher glanced over their shoulder to the bar. Rory was leaning in a little too close to Caius and talking fast while Caius glowered at him. They turned back to Tommy. "Five years, huh? When did you give up?"

"Handler,” Tommy corrected. “I guess...it doesn't really matter." There was a low table off to the side of the crowd, flanked by two plush chairs. Tommy took a few deliberate steps towards it to check if Fletcher followed, and then eagerly claimed one of the seats. He seemed to enjoy sitting down in such luxury like a child might enjoy playing in a pool. Scant pleasures abound for him.

Fletcher pushed out the other chair with their foot and sat, somewhat poised on the edge as if they’d have to jump up at a moment’s notice.

"It's hard to place an exact moment, but...I would say, whenever it was when they had to reattach my hand." He smiled numbly.

Fletcher put their drink down on the table and studied his face. He seemed too aware of his situation to tell an easily refutable lie if he didn't need to. Still, Fletcher had been around the block, and that was extreme. They didn't want to seem gullible. "Are you fucking with me?"

"I'm five years in and just - just look at me," he gestured vaguely to himself. "No scars, no bumps. Experimental stuff. They gambled on the right guy. I say guy, because he's not a doctor any more."

Fletcher did look Tommy over. He was right. This was a person who had accepted his place in Hell, which means he'd been there long enough to get through all the stages of grief. He should be covered in scars. He should have a crooked nose and fingers. He should be in pain when he walks. All he really had to show was a sunken face and dead eyes. Fletcher leaned back in their chair and glanced over to Caius and Rory and again. There was a third person with them now, and they all seemed like they were trying not to make it obvious they were arguing. "Any chance your not-doctor is here tonight?"

Tommy opens his mouth with a wry grin and then seems to think better of it, closing his mouth to chew over his answer again. "No, he's not. I'm not sure Caius would share. That information."

"I saw the smirk,” Fletcher said playfully. “You have something you want to tell me."

Tommy chewed on his lip as he thought about it. "You're going to get me in trouble."

Fletcher put their hands up innocently. "How am I going to get you in trouble?"

"You almost talk to me like a person," Tommy said.

God, he was so pathetic. Part of Fletcher wanted to be nice to him and part of them wanted to grab his face and smash it into the table. Either could get a fun reaction. "Look," they leaned in conspiratorially. "This is your chance to get it all out. You probably don't get to talk shit with customers, right?"

Tommy's face was slightly flushed. He was practically bursting at the seams, but he swallowed down the desire and sat back, sinking into the seat. "You think you're the first to try this?"

Fletcher blew out a breath and rested their chin on their hand. "You are a professional, huh?" they said with a smile. "I may not convince you, but... I like you better than your handler, so far. I think it would be fun to know something he doesn't."

Tommy sighed and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes for a long moment. "You're the type that needs a reaction. You like being feared. You've been doing the 'lone wolf' thing for a while now." He removes his hands from his face and his eyes stare at them in his lap. "You've convinced yourself you're comfortable with it."

The smile faded from Fletcher's face. They paused for a long time, staring Tommy down. He wouldn't look up to meet their gaze. "I wasn't asking for information about myself," they said coldly. "Look at me."

"I don't - I don't know why I said that." He kept his eyes down.

Fletcher reached out, put two fingers under Tommy's chin, and tilted his head up. They fixed him with a hard stare for a moment. Studying his face, thinking, but also... he wasn't wrong before. They wanted him to squirm. "That's quite a skill. I don't know if you're wasted in this role or if you're perfect for it."

Tommy closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them again they met Fletcher's with focus and clarity.

"I'm perfect for it."

Fletcher put their chin back in their hand. They drummed their fingers against their lower lip. "I haven't talked to anyone else here yet," they said. "But I think you're probably the most interesting person in the room."

Tommy sat up suddenly, turning as Caius, Rory, and a third man joined them. Caius wore a grim smile. "Has he told you I'm evil yet? Made you sympathetic to his cause?"

"Um, no, but I can figure that out," Fletcher said. "We’re all at the evil convention." They finished off their drink and pointed to the newcomer. "Michelle, I take it?"

"You may take it," The other man said with a nervous laugh. His hair was divided into twists that nearly touched his shoulders. "And you're Fletcher in the Rye?"

Fletcher laughed. "That's pretty good." They stood to shake his hand. "You're the inventor?"

"Oh, more like tinkerer, but I suppose. Are you looking for any new toys for your collection?"

"Well, your associates keep alluding to your 'cradle,' trying to create an air of suspense to keep me interested, I'm sure. But, it's working enough that I want to know what it is."

He laughed. "Yeah, they're the ones that know how to sell. It's a curved brace that connects into nerves along the spine. Are you sticking around for the little demonstration we have planned?" 

Rory stood by as if waiting for one of the others to say something he would have to try to make up for, but held fast for now. Caius leaned over Tommy's chair and cupped his boy’s face with one hand, his thumb pressed to his lips while his other fingers supported underneath his chin. A peculiar touch, and an almost casual gesture, but some meaning was hidden there. He was touching Tommy where Fletcher had, in order to tip his head up. Caius dug his fingers into the hollows of his cheeks in an almost teasing squeeze before letting go.

Fletcher watched the interaction carefully, studying both their faces. "I'll stick around," they said. "I should work the room more, anyway. And I need another drink." They picked up their empty glass and raised it in a salute. "Gentlemen."

Rory and Michelle gave small, appropriate nods. Caius flashed them one last winning smile before turning suddenly and leaning into Tommy's space to whisper something in his ear.

Fletcher returned to the bar and opted for a whisky sour this time. 

“I’d prefer honey, if you have it,” they said as the bartender set to work. They glanced over their shoulder to scope out perspectives to chat up, but ended up turning back to the bartender. 

“So, do you work for the hotel, or do you work for the host of the event?” Fletcher asked.

“I’m employed by Ms. Hannowitz,” he said, referring to the host. 

Fletcher nodded. “Okay, so you know what’s going on.”

“Indeed I do,” he said, setting Fletcher’s drink on the bar in front of them. 

“Thanks.” They took a sip. “It’s great, thank you.” 

They turned towards the crowd… then back to the bartender. 

“So how does that work - are you solely employed as a bartender for Hannowitz, or do you do other stuff for her, or is there like a catering company specifically for illegal events?”

A pair of women approached the other end of the bar and waved the bartender over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said to Fletcher before walking away. 

“Oh, sure, sure,” Fletcher muttered. Taking another sip of their drink, they surveyed the crowd. Finally, they saw someone they recognized - a capo in a family they’d done work for in the past, and trained a couple foot soldiers for. He was talking to a couple people Fletcher didn’t know; perfect opportunity for introductions. They made their way over.

~~

The troupe doesn't make a spectacle of it when they make their way to the stage. Caius and Rory each clasp a hand around Tommy's wrists and rush him up to prevent a last-minute escape attempt. Caius had slipped him a little something earlier, which was not pain meds as Tommy had hoped but instead a muscle relaxant. He wasn't running off anywhere any time soon.

Backstage, Michelle opened the suitcase they had loaded in earlier and started to fit together pieces stored inside. Rods interlocked into a surprisingly sturdy frame, and the suitcase was detached from the wheeled base. With a few turns of an allen wrench, the base unfolded into a longer, thinner platform that the metal frame fit into. It resembled a rolling clothing rack, but unusually tall and wide. 

Tommy was watching the construction, his stomach tight with fear. It had been a long time since he cried before the torture even started, but his eyes were prickling with unchecked emotion. Beside him, Caius fussed at the backstage vanity. He had pulled out a little doggy bag of cocaine and poured some onto the chalky desk. He dug in his wallet for a credit card and a crumpled receipt, which he smoothed out and rolled with ease. He cut the ivory with his credit card into two lines before wiping one off the edge into a vial. 

"Head back," He instructed Tommy, and when he didn't respond fast enough Caius wrenched his head back by his hair. He pressed the vial under his nose and tapped it gently, emptying the coke into Tommy's sinuses before pinching his nose shut. "If you sneeze, I'll leave you up for them all to use. Don't waste my shit." 

Tommy's eyes watered at the pain triggered all the way down his throat, but managed to nod. Caius let go and let him wipe his nose while he took the other line for himself. 

"Ready?" Michelle had a hand on one of the supporting polls, wheeling the rack along. 

Caius coughed and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. "Where's Rory?" 

"He's already out there, setting up the table." 

Caius sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, alright, let's do it." 

Tommy wondered what coke was like for Caius. He seemed energetic and focused and jolly. For Tommy, it just made his nervous heart pound harder. He felt like trapped prey, with an overwhelming urge to run, but nowhere to go. Mixed with the muscle relaxant, he felt caged inside of his weakened body. 

They walked on stage to see a sizable crowd already waiting for them - enough people had noticed the set-up begin, and plenty others had been invited to attend personally by a member of the team. Caius slunk off to go about some nefarious business while Michelle positioned the rack facing out towards the audience. He stopped at each of the four wheels to press a trigger down with his foot, the wheels locking stubbornly onto the stage with a rubber seal as each was fastened. Rory was laying the finishing touches on a folding table to the side, covered in a variety of implements to inflict pain. In the middle layed a long black piece of metal, curved and thin with an appearance reminiscent of a xenomorph's detached spine. Tommy’s heart hammered in his chest looking at it, and he took one step back towards the stairs. 

"Hey," a friendly voice said, as a hand gripped him by the arm. He turned and Michelle was looking at him with a curious smile. "Come here, this way." He was led towards the frame by Michelle's push, who gentled him like a wild animal backed into a corner. "Stand here, just like that, good. Strip down to your underwear, please." Tommy gave an anxious glance at the crowd formed in front of them. "Don't be shy. Here, I'll help." 

Tommy didn't resist as Michelle helped him undress, cooperating slowly in a daze. None of this felt real. His head throbbed in time with his heart. A moment later he was strung up to the frame, pulled taut up on the balls of his feet by his wrists chained above him. Michelle took his clothes, and Caius reappeared at his side, one cold hand spreading over his lower back. 

"Let's get started."

In another life Caius was some shithead Shakespearean actor. At least, he knew how to project to the room. 

"Friends among us, we are here to demonstrate a new and original design from our labs." He did not have to clap his hands or ring a bell, the people were intrigued enough by Tommy's public binding that the dull roar simmered to a quiet murmur among the crowd. Michelle stepped up to center stage and took a deep breath. 

"Pain is not evil. It is not inherently a punishment from our bodies. It is a part of our natural homeostasis system, our bodies' need to maintain good, working order. Our body tells us what we need through these systems. We feel thirst when we need water, tired when we need sleep, hot when we are overheating, cold when our body temperature is low. We even crave foods that satisfy nutritional needs - red meat when we are low on iron, maybe some popcorn when we need the salt." It got a very modest chuckle from the crowd. "We have built-in sensors throughout our bodies that tell us when we are injured or wounded. All of our sensitive nerves are there to alert us when the body has been damaged. The signal we receive that holds that information, is how we sense pain.

"Common methods of interrogation - or just play - manipulate the body to create pain. But sometimes, we need to generate a lot of pain without causing a lot of bodily harm. What if we used these nerves, these sensors, directly, to cause pain without unnecessary damage?" 

Caius fetched the Cradle from the table and brought it to Michelle, who held it up to the audience. 

“We are here today to introduce the Cradle, a device for not only generating pain, but immobilizing the subject by it, too. No more handcuff keys to lose. The Cradle conforms to the human spine, and when lined up correctly, slides pins directly into the shallow bundles of nerves along the subject's back. With physical damage no worse than a few pinpricks, you can latch this into a person's spine with an incapacitating amount of pain. The Cradle then locks in place with a simple mechanism that the victim physically cannot reach to unlock. "

There is an excited murmuring through the audience, and Michelle is received well when he holds it aloft. 

"As I began the build and manufacture process, I realized the Cradle could accomplish much more than I had planned. By wiring electrodes into the crest of the artificial spine and running copper filament through the pins, the Cradle is able to directly stimulate the nerves with electricity from the rechargeable battery pack located at the small of the back. Each charge is good for 250 hours of consecutive use, and can be stored without charge degradation nearly indefinitely. "

Caius and Michelle moved to Tommy then. He didn’t even register that Caius was telling him to turn around, but they guided him into it, twisting the rope suspending him so his back faced the audience. He felt distant from his body and his hands were already numb. 

"By lining the dial up with the top vertebrae, which you can feel at the base of the neck here - " A firm few fingers felt along the back of his neck for a moment before circling a low spot. "-minor adjustment to account for varying heights-" Something cold was pressed to his back, and then there was an intense pressure as the pins there threatened to pierce his skin. "-clamp to insert the pins at an angle, and lock in with a further series of hooks to secure the mechanism-"

Almost as soon as it breached his skin, the pain was unbearable. His back seized with the intrusion and he screamed until he had no air left. Dragging in another deep breath agitated the creature biting hard into his spine and he struggled to collect air.

They let him go and he was slowly turned back with the unwinding of the twisted cord. He was forced to face the audience as he trembled and seized, muscles clenching up into painful cramps, only driving the pins deeper. He kept waiting for the pain to plateau, to break, but it seemed to only heighten more and more. He dry heaved and his legs shuddered, his body spasming in some attempt to relieve the pain it only stoked. They let him dangle there, the monster on his back crushing his spine in shocking agony as he screamed himself hoarse. 

"As you can see, it is quite effective at its original purpose. The Cradle has two forms of charge to create different reactions." 

Fletcher watched intently. Tommy clearly knew what was coming. His movements were sluggish - either doped up or disassociating. Maybe both. The moment the device kicked on was clear. His face contorted and his legs gave out, bending awkwardly beneath him as his restraints kept him from collapsing. The screaming was loud, and long, interrupted only by gagging breaths. Michelle explained different settings for pain and immobilization. Fletcher figured they could adjust the settings to make it impossible to scream, hitting that sweet spot where the pain takes the breath from your body. At the very least, cause his muscles to seize enough that he can’t open his mouth, and the cries seep through muffled and broken. But these men were showing off - they wanted the screams. 

It looked like a good device. Sure, there were tasers and jumper cables that could cause similar effects. Paralytics, nerve agents. But the Cradle seemed more fine tuned, most versatile. Portability was a question - does it fold up? Still beats a car battery, but not the other options. And they’d be interested to see if it left any marks on his back when they were done. 

Michelle turned the device off. Tommy hung limp, jerking with aftershocks. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t sob. Just moaned with pain. Fletcher had wondered if they were going to feel conflicted about watching the demonstration. After all, they had enjoyed talking to Tommy more than they had any of his owners. But they ate up every moment. 

Tommy really was good at it - or good for it. Not much participation was required on his part. Maybe if he had gotten a chance to beg. He was probably really good at begging. Hell, he reads people so well, he probably had it down to a science. 

He would probably look good bleeding, too. The contrast of his pale skin and dark hair would pair so well with the rich red of fresh blood. 

The troupe on stage took a few more questions. Blah blah blah warranty, blah blah blah voltage, blah blah blah tetanus. One older woman up front piped up. 

"What is the lasting damage remaining after use? Have you studied the extent of the nerve damage left?" 

"Why don't we ask him?" Michelle and Rory had been fielding most of the questions, but Caius stepped up to address that one. He crossed over to Tommy, who was starting to recover enough to just barely keep himself up. Caius took his face between his hands and lifted his head to speak directly to him. They had a low, murmured conversation for a moment, before Caius dropped his head and turned again to face the crowd. 

"As you can see here, there is some bleeding from the punctures." Caius addressed the woman while he used Tommy's back like a prop, gesturing to his various parts like a ranger teaching children about some animal captured for their wildlife display. "The bleeding is little more than the amount shed for removing a simple IV, as the needles are only a wider gauge by two or three times. Immediate after-effects can include tingling, numbness of the extremities, muscle spasms, cramps, and a low-grade fever. Tommy here is doing quite well for having undergone our trials, though he has reported continuing nerve pain for up to three months at a time." 

Caius gripped Tommy's arm suddenly and pushed, spinning him around on his suspension a few times while he struggled to get his feet to support him. He slowed to a stop facing out to the audience. His dark curls stuck to his forehead with a thin sheen of sweat from the pain, and his eyes were red from crying. He still had little drops of his tears down his chest, and he cowered in his near-nudity before the excited audience. Caius ran his fingers through Tommy's hair, smoothing his hair away from his face and adjusting his curls with a few sharp tugs.

"I'm afraid we did not properly introduce him before, but this is Tommy, and he's a very important part of our business. He's not just here to model Michelle's wicked inventions. See, he is our most requested product by far." Caius put a possessive hand on his clammy lower back, pushing Tommy slightly forwards towards the audience. 

Michelle and Rory stepped to the side to let Caius do his song and dance as they moved into a different part of their show-and-tell. Rory seemed to have given up on directing Caius, mollified by his drugs. The same drugs that kept Tommy awake as he already trembled from the strain. 

"What would you do if you had him to yourself for a few hours?” Caius asked the crowd. “Anyone?" 

There was some nervous shuffling before a young man called out, "Bull whip!" 

Caius cracked a grin. "Whipping, certainly. I'm partial to the cane, myself. What else?" 

“I'd make him walk on nails!" Another enthusiast called. More people were getting intrigued. 

“I'd use him like a punching bag." 

“I'll make him beg for his life." 

“I'd skin him to the bone." 

“He could clean my house in a thong." 

“I could use a car battery to make him dance." 

“I'd make him dig his own grave." 

Talk amongst the crowd grew as people began to brainstorm, and then to one-up each other. Caius laughed with mirth and called them off with the lazy wave of a hand. 

"So many good ideas! We use top of the line medical procedures that can't be found outside our labs to keep Tommy fresh for his next date. If you can host, we can come. Tommy is responsive, vocal, and sensitive." 

Caius turned and punched Tommy in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of him immediately with the well-placed strike and he struggled to curl in on himself as he wheezed. He could not shield himself with his arms tied above him, and he looked exceptionally vulnerable as he struggled. Mostly nude, strung up in front of a crowd eager to devour him. He had no recourse as Caius dug his fingernails into the tender flesh of his side, raking them across diaphragm and leaving angry red lines in their wake. Tommy flinched and wriggled, a fish caught upon a hook. 

"To demonstrate his uses tonight, Ladies and Gentlemen, we will invite a very special guest on stage. Please give a round of applause for Fletcher!"

[continued]

@victimeyez @lonesome--hunter @desert-dyke @coldresolve @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @suspicious-whumping-egg @whatwasmyprevioususername @whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump @thatsthewhump @aqua-blogging  @utopian819 @bloodinthemud @pretty-face-breaker @cursedandtired @morning-star-whump If you changed your url or don't want to be in the taglist anymore lmk

#we wrote this mostly rp style #god even splitting into parts is long #pt1 is 11 pages and pt 2 is gonna be 7 #in the woods somewhere #professional//victim #hm when i link part two the post title says part 1 in the url so #hopefully it works #writings #original

[ecargmura]

My New Boss Is Goofy Episode 9 Review - Rare Pairs

The best part of this episode is the fact that we see combinations we rarely see. When was the last time we’ve seen Momose and Aoyama together? How about Shirosaki and Kinjou? No, right? That’s why this episode is so good! It brings about different sides for each of our main characters.

I do feel like this is more of an Aoyama-focused episode, which is why I’ll start with him. Aoyama has always been shown to be needy and a bit of an attention-seeker, but he is a good boss. This episode shows more than what he has been shown in the past episodes. Above all of the traits he has, he’s just a very kind person overall. When he went out drinking with Momose and told about his trauma of teaching a new subordinate, it made me feel like he was like Momose in a way before. He was traumatized over a bad incident, but was healed by Shirosaki’s clumsiness; in Aoyama’s case, he was traumatized over being a bad boss rather having a bad boss. I think Aoyama saw a bit of his old self in Momose, which was why he was doing his best to give Momose good memories of a mixer after overhearing his subordinate mutter about his bad experience. I can see why Shirosaki is such a good boss to Momose—he learned from the best.

Momose wanting to learn more about Aoyama is so adorable. He’s already getting along well with Shirosaki, due to being roommates and boyfriends, and Kinjou due to their similarities and being close in age. I think that there was still a bit of a wall between them that broke towards the end when Momose learned about why Aoyama was trying hard to be uplifting in the mixer. The part where Momose starts playing along and tells the chief that he has a mole on the side of his head was cute as heck. I’d like to see these two interact more!

Shirosaki is still his goofy, adorable self. He’s still a scaredy-cat that needs Momose to protect him from horror stuff. The way he got scared of the bear horror movie and it got transferred to Kumatte-chan was cute; the fact that he treats Kumatte-chan as if it was sentient was super cute! His diligent side shows as he asks Kinjou out for dinner. It turns out that he overheard Kinjou and Momose talk about anime, and since Minette (their company) has been getting anime-related ad offers lately, he wanted to study up on the topic. If you don’t know, there’s a ten-year age gap between Shirosaki and Kinjou, so I can actually see the generational gap in their interaction. Shirosaki, 34 years old, isn’t too familiar with anime and otaku lingo, while Kinjou, 24, is very familiar with modern trends, otaku lingo and anime in general. I love the part where Shirosaki’s head goes into space the longer Kinjou rambled on about anime; the part where he looked as if he got ejected like he was in Among Us after Kinjou showed his waifu was HILARIOUS!

Kinjou is very bubbly in this episode. He was the FRUITIEST he has ever been since his introduction. It was cool learning that he enjoys anime and is not ashamed about it. Like I mentioned before, the ten-year age gap between Shirosaki and Kinjou really does show in the dinner outing. The fact that Kinjou knows about stuff like quality animation, voice actors and other stuff anime fans like to talk about made me feel something inside. Also, Kinjou’s favorite anime happens to be a game to anime adaptation called Mic Prince. HIS ‘WAIFU’ IS A MAN! I guess using ‘waifu’ (yome) is different from ‘bias’ (oshi) for otakus? I’m surprised that he’s not afraid to show off how much of a nerd he is. I also really like the karaoke segment. Jun Fukuyama DEFINITELY had a fun time doing all those ~nya’s. The way it was animated was super fluid too! His bubbly actions are very infectious as Shirosaki confidently decides to to the ~nya’s in the post-credit scene.

The lady who sits next to Momose at work was a huge mood, honestly. She hosted the mixer, yet it felt like she was there for the food. I’m glad that her friends had a good time, even if they didn’t really develop a romantic interest in any of our main characters. The fact that they were ‘interested’ in their friend who helped them have a great time was sweet.

Man, I couldn’t help but to smile throughout the episode. It was really good! It’s probably my favorite episode so far! However, the most difficult challenge is to pick a favorite character between the main characters; it’s so hard to choose because they’re all so likable. Though, after the events of this episode, Kinjou might be climbing up the ranks as my favorite of the show. Still, it’s so hard to pick a favorite. I love these dorks so much. What are your thoughts on this episode? Did you have a great time like me?

#my new boss is goofy #atarashii joushi wa do tennen #Mitsuo aoyama #Kentaro momose #Yusei shirosaki #aigou kinjou #kumatte-chan #review #anime #anime review #ecargmura #arum journal #the fruitiest episode by far

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 18

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

In hopes of finding a way to meet Desmond at the Imperial Scholar's mixer, Twilight sneaks around Eden in disguise. But unbeknownst to him, Anya reads his mind and realizes what he's trying to do. She urges Damian to meet with his father in spite of the second thoughts he has. Twilight hides behind a building, listening as she says she's not even sure if her papa likes her or not, but she's still going to tell him that she failed her test because she loves and believes in him. We don't get to hear any of Twilight's thoughts during her speech, and his expression remains neutral. Even when the kids leave, his first reaction is confusion about why Anya would suddenly say such things, but happy nonetheless that she did indeed persuade Damian to meet his father.

However, when he does finally meet with Desmond later on, it seems that Anya's words may have struck a chord in him. He puts on his most extreme Loid Forger performance during his encounter with Damian while looking for the "lost" keychain, trying his best to find any opening to invite himself to meet Damian's father. And of course, as is typical for him, beneath all the pretending, he does genuinely feel bad about what he has to do. He internally apologizes to Damian for having to cut in on his reunion with his father, but for the sake of his mission (a.k.a. the happiness of many over the happiness of few) it must be done.

Once Desmond finally appears, the pressure ramps up as Twilight has to choose every word carefully so as not to arouse even an ounce of suspicion. He does all he can to find a way for Desmond to agree to talk with him more, but eventually Desmond halts the conversation. However, when Damian expresses his disdain for his father's nonchalant attitude about Anya punching him, Twilight voices his agreement with Damian.

This is probably the most major example thus far of Twilight doing something he personally feels is right even though it could potentially be detrimental to his mission. I say this is the most major example because having a favorable relationship with Desmond is literally all he's been striving for since starting Operation Strix, so he shouldn't take any risk no matter how slight, like showing support for Damian's disagreement with Desmond. Yet, he chooses to take Damian's side over that of Desmond's, similar to how he chose to stick up for Anya and Yor at the Eden interview even though it went against what was best for the mission. While it is true that it's better for "plan B" if Damian has a good relationship with his father, it's also a very delicate subject for Twilight to pursue at that moment, when Desmond had only just met him. Regardless, he's able to steer the conversation in a way that gets his points across but doesn't come off as hostile to Desmond.

He first tries to evoke some kindred feelings with Desmond by talking about the struggles he has dealing with Anya's irrational behavior and how challenging it is to raise a child (perhaps his confusion about Anya's behavior from earlier encouraged him to bring this up).

When Desmond flatly responds that people can never truly understand each other, even their own children, Twilight is taken aback. His darkened expression betrays a hint of resentment towards the other man's pessimistic ideals, but he manages to keep up the Loid Forger act regardless. In typical Twilight fashion, he's able to express his true ideals under the guise of his fake identity – in this case, he uses his cover-up job as a psychiatrist to explain why he thinks it's best for people to keep trying to understand others even if they can only meet them "in the middle" so to speak. He also mentions that even though much of what Anya says doesn't make sense to him, acknowledging her nonetheless creates an opportunity for understanding. And as he's saying these things to Desmond, we can hear what he's really thinking at the time – that he'll never stop trying to understand others.

He cleverly ends his spiel by proposing that Desmond had in fact done what he had described – decided to take time out of his busy schedule to meet with his son. That would have been a good spot to end the conversation and not push his luck, but instead, in his shrewd Twilight way, he decides to help bring father and son closer by mentioning the speech Damian gave about Desmond for the class project. He even made an attempt to score Anya points with Damian by saying that she was the one who told him about it because she was so moved. From there, he's able to smoothly steer the conversation to Desmond's job as political chairman, from which he then creates an opening for himself to express his admiration for Desmond and an interest in his political party.

Once Desmond confirms that he knows Loid Forger's name and has formed a favorable opinion of him, Twilight wraps up the whole encounter by making sure "plan B" is still an option; he tells Damian that Anya doesn't hate him and asks if he'd try to get along with her.

This whole scene really showcases how exceptional Twilight is at being a spy – his masterful command of deceitful words that he uses to steer people into feeling what he wants them to feel and view things in a way that benefits his mission, but aren't completely against his moral principles either. As I mentioned before, attempting to reconcile father and son's relationship, even going so far as to pat Damian on the shoulder and ramble on about how great his speech was, may have been pushing it a bit for his very first meeting with Desmond. But as we've seen many times before, Twilight is an empathetic person. Even while in the midst of making major progress with one of his missions, like finally meeting Desmond, he decides to say and do what he feels is right no matter how risky. I'm sure he felt bad for Damian after realizing what kind of a person Desmond is. And perhaps he can also relate to Damian due to his estranged relationship with his own father.

Continue to Part 19 ->

<- Return to Part 17

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #loid forger #sxf analysis #sxf meta #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers

[nerdieforpedro]

Do you know that hippo?

Part Three of the Rock & Doc Series

Tim Rockford x plus size OFC - Doc

Rating: Explicit for ending

This blog is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 5.5k (things are moving along)

Summary: The engagement party of Doc and Kim's friend leads to some surprising discoveries. Gold it seems is Doc's color and keep an eye on those hippos. They've got major clues. Big things are happening at the precinct.

Warnings: disco, drinking, hippos, family dynamics, mutual pining, swooning, bad pranks, panic/anxiety, trench coat mention, blood, fatal injury, murder

Notes: We've got the more to the plot in this one! Keep an eye out for a mention of a Pedro character and the introduction of another. I've gotta thank @lady-bess (on Tumblr) for beta reading for me. Bouncing ideas off of @maggiemayhemnj always leads to good things. I hope everyone enjoys the twists. 😘

Main Masterlist/ Tim Rockford Masterlist / Rock & Doc Series

Saturday of the engagement party:

You already want to go home. You’ve just been dropped off by Tony, Kim’s beau of two years. She’s wearing a blonde wig, orange star shaped shades to match her orange strapless dress that she’s pulled up at least the fourth time after complaining that she doesn’t have enough to keep the dress up. The orange complements her mocha skin and since her dress is strapless, she was happy to show off her rose tattoo she had on her right shoulder.  The heels of her white thigh high boots click as you both make your way to the large double doors of your mutual friend’s home. Samantha had gotten engaged to some producer who was filthy rich or had enough money to rent a space like this. 

You didn’t need a wig. Your hair, when not slicked down with grease and tied with two different scrunchies, expands enough on its own to look like a seventies wig. It’s just not curly, your hair never did hold a curl to save its life. Kim thought it would be a good idea to pin a gold disco ball in your hair and wear tiny gold disco ball earrings to match. She also did your makeup which included gold eyeshadow, soft pink cheeks and a vibrant red lipstick. You wore a shimmering gold dress that tied behind your neck and had a gold chain that connected from the tie in the back down to where the dress hit your shoulder blades. The back of the dress was longer than the front with it hitting the back of your ankles. The front stopped mid-thigh and your gold bangles that donned both wrists jingled each time you attempted to pull it down. Thankfully, the dress wasn’t bunching anywhere that you felt. Kim told you to stop fiddling with it and to let the people see since you wouldn’t let your cherished detective see anything. You pinched her arm and the two of you bickered until you met the guests of honor. 

Sam and her producer fiance were happy that you came and that you brought gifts, though you weren’t sure if they really needed a stand mixer since you were sure Sam didn’t know how to boil water. Maybe the producer…whose name you did hear three times but it never stuck, cooked or baked. The party ended up being fun though, there was delicious food, excellent music and the other costumes were a sight to see. At one point there was a disco ball that came out of the ceiling and everyone did the electric slide. 

After the dancing when things took a weird turn, you stepped outside to get some fresh air. As the night went on, you started smelling weed and some other substances you usually tested for. You thought maybe you inhaled too much of the air inside but it called you miss a few times ... a man-sized hippo.

“Hey Miss! Lady! Ma’am!” The hippo keeps trying to get your attention and you scan the area to see if there's anyone else out here and if there’s anyone else they could be talking to. You see no one. Just you and this hippo, at least you can tell that it’s a costume. This has to mean you don’t have more than a contact high right? You’re just slightly dazed you hope.

“Yes sir? Or ma’am? How can I help you? I specialize in humans and not animals.” The hippo fails their arms and groans at your answer. You weren’t sure how else to put it without coming out and saying you’re an ME. You don’t know this hippo, they don't need to know that.

“You’re not too high right? I’m not an actual hippo. I need help getting this damn head off. You’re the first person I’ve seen who isn’t high as balls. Help a guy out, yeah?” You nod and watch as the hippo bends forward so you can reach the head. You pull and it comes off with some force with you stumbling back but thankfully not falling. The owner of the hippo head has fluffy brown hair and is shaking his head. “That feels so much better! Thanks! Fresh air! I missed it!” He has a beard that’s patchy but it doesn't quite have the gray that you like. He looks like he could be Tim’s younger cousin. The mischievous grin is one you’re sure you’d never see of the detective’s face though. 

“You look familiar. Do you know-”

“Now just because you helped me get this head off, doesn’t mean I’m going to give you an autograph. You seem nice but you gotta pay for those. I have back taxes.” You cackle at the last part of his sentence and he raises an eyebrow. “That's not funny. It’s why I have a new manager and accountant. I hated that my damn brother was right. He’s always right, damn perfectionist. Like his shit doesn’t stink sometimes. That’s why his wife left and all he has is murder. Whatever lady.” 

“No, no. I was going to ask if you knew a homicide detective, you look like him. A lot. I work with him so I was curious.”

The Tim-look-alike runs his eyes up and down, a fuzzy mitt on his chin. He seems to be thinking something, you're not exactly sure what. Some people just look like others and they’re not related. You could be wrong.

You adjust your glasses nervously and he points at them. “They’re blue! He mentioned a woman with blue glasses! So you’re her…he’s mentioned you quite a bit. You do the autopsies right…medical…specialist…something like that? Mentioned something about pens and menus. I didn’t really get that part.” You close your eyes. He told someone about the pens? Who was this guy? “You’re sexy. My brother’s an idiot or maybe he’s not. He loves his job too much is the damn problem. You’re already a lot nicer than his ex-wife, you single pretty lady?” 

Blinking is your initial reaction. So this man…is Tim’s brother?! Your hunch was correct and he was related. You were thinking of a cousin maybe but not his brother. “Did you just ask if I was single? You’re wearing a hippo costume and couldn’t get out of it.” Your hands are raised like you’re pushing away the very idea of him hitting on you. The man in the hippo is not amused.

“That was a design flaw in the costume. Wait, I’m Dieter Bravo, I don’t need to explain myself. I see why he likes you, the sense of humor matches up. If you’d ever like to get to know the more fun of the two Rockford brothers, you should look me up. But definitely watch my movies, I need those royalties. I might paint about what happened here tonight. Thanks again sexy MD. My brother is a bit of a stick in the mud, but he is very nice to the ladies. Wait, what’s your name?” A fuzzy arm wraps around your shoulder and it’s not bad considering the cool night air. You tell Dieter and he comments that it’s sexy for a sexy lady. Your eyes roll as the pair of you decide to head inside where there’s heat and grab some punch. It’s warming you both from the inside out. Dieter and you chat about Tim and Dieter’s lives when they were both younger. Dieter took to the arts early while Tim focused on police work like their dad. 

A fun fact you did learn about Tim: he enjoys photography. 

Dieter explained it’s a hobby he enjoys because he can’t paint like he can. But he also admits that if his brother wanted to, he could have been a photo-journalist, but the call of shield was too great and it went on the backburner. Apparently one of the many reasons Tim and his ex-wife split was due to him wanting to make one of the half baths into a darkroom and expand it a bit. Bravo also informed Doc that his ex-wife was about as fun as putting on a wet blanket while you watch grass grow on a cool spring morning. That made Doc give Dieter a solid belly laugh.

You mentioned that you’d heard rumors of how this woman was but never really asked about her directly to Tim or anyone else. Bravo shrugged and sipped his punch taking stock of what you’re saying. It appears you don’t just like his brother but you respect him by leaving his personal business alone. As smart as he knows his brother is, he’s kind of an idiot. The fact that he knows something his brother doesn’t is a wonderful feeling. Bravo will make sure to remember this.

Dieter explains that he took his passion for art from their mom. She also taught English part time and loved Greek mythology especially which led to his legal first name. He didn’t believe it fit him until he became older and really leaned into the latter part of the Greek god of wine and revelry’s purpose. 

“I’ll tell you pretty lady if you agree to do something fun.”

You squint your eyes at the younger Rockford brother. “What do you consider fun for me?”

“I think you should send Tim a picture of yourself in your outfit. Show him what he’s missing out on by sitting at home in his boxers or sleeping in his office gazing lovingly at his murder board.” This elicited you to choke on your punch and put a hand to your chest.

“I-I- who is that fun for exactly?! What is wrong with everyone this week?!” Knocking back the rest of your drink and pouring yourself more, you’re holding onto the table to keep yourself upright. “First the damn notebook, a bone song, now I find out and meet…”

“Name’s Dieter. Don’t say my real name.”

“Tim’s brother Dion and now you’re telling me to…to…why won’t anyone just let me fantasize?!” You take out your phone and shakily text Kim but she isn’t answering. You want to leave. NOW. Dieter pats your shoulder.

“Hay calm down. I dunno what set you off, but I was half joking. I think you might wanna call someone to take you home. You’re a bit too drunk.” He suggests as he guides you to a quieter room with a couch. You’re able to sit down and call Kim but she’s still not answering. You lean your head back on the soft fabric of the couch and close your eyes. Who else could you call? Just an Uber? No…you’re not alert enough for that. You could doze off at any moment. Alcohol tends to make you sleepy. Your phone slips out of your hand and Dieter grabs it before it falls on the floor. 

Bravo has a bad idea. A very bad idea and maybe a bit mean. He texts Kim who has sent four texts asking where Doc was, that she’s okay and she had liquid courage to call Tim. He’s going to pick her up. Kim then sent various emojis with eggplants, bones, water drops and peaches. The second part of his plan had Bravo texting Tim from his phone that:

Hey bro, I met a very nice lady, maybe a few years older than me. She seems a little shy but the punch is very good. She might want to hang out a bit more after a Power Nap. She’s got some full lips and thick thighs, who knows? She might make a pretty third wife, third time's the charm after all.

Dieter snapped a picture of a dozing Doc and sent it to Tim. He waited. Maybe the text was a bit over the top but based on her outburst, his older brother has likely been a huge closed off idiot. Sadly he’s been like that since he divorced his ex-wife, he should have put more laxative in that woman’s coffee the one time he made it for her. 

Rockford was in his office finishing up reports. Did he want to be? No. But it was this or do it Monday and Mondays sucked enough without extra paperwork. Plus he didn’t have anything else going on, only that his small black notebook was missing. He’d turned his trench coat inside and out three times and searched his desk, office, car and where he thought it might be in his house. He was going to do another sweep of the office before he left tonight.

His phone lit up but he paid it no mind and kept typing, putting the finishing touches on the fourth report of the night. A small smile crossed his face when he saw Doc’s name for the autopsy of the victim. His mind is drifting to thoughts of you again. He remembers meeting you when you first came. Hands cup the back of his head as he leans back in his chair. Tim’s eyes drift to his murder board and his ear itches. That’s odd. 

He hadn’t been sure about getting a new medical examiner three years ago after Old Loaf, the previous ME had retired. His nickname came from his van which he put bread stickers on (not ever the identifying ME logo though) and he usually played classic rock and his favorite artist was Meat Loaf. Weird man, but ME’s usually are. When Doc arrived, it was an adjustment. The precinct had been used to that old bread van riding around and arriving to crime scenes. When Doc started she was first confused for an intern and not the new medical examiner, to be fair, they weren’t told anything about gender or appearance. But they could have at least asked, Tim happened to hear about Doc from the Captain and his wife over dinner. They had him for dinner from the times he used to double date with them along with his then wife.

Tim interceded between a senior detective and Doc because he kept calling her ‘young lady’ and Rockford could tell with Doc’s hands on her hips and her in his face, something was going to happen. He was pretty confident it would be the senior detective hitting the pavement as she wasn’t budging an inch. Slowly she started winning over the officers with her humor and knowledge, she even kept the loaves on the ME van and added stars, a mermaid and a catfish decal to it as well. They enjoyed the new flair of the van.

Rockford had thought her to be confrontational from her interaction out in the field but quickly grew accustomed to spending extra time in the autopsy room and office. Asking her questions, bouncing ideas off of her and at times, watching her work gathering evidence in the field and her lab. Tim had long reasoned that he spent time with Doc because of work. Over the years they worked together, however, he denied that their relationship was changing. 

They’re colleagues obviously, but he knows the times you’re most likely to be in your office, learning about your music, trying to make you laugh, maybe doing a quick check of a few databases to see if you had any skeletons in your closet. There was some threat you made against your medical preceptor which is why he knew the detective was in more danger than you were. That didn’t bother Tim though, he can have a violent streak in him too if pushed. It was comforting that you’d understand some of the darkness even if it wasn’t quite in the same context. The pen thefts were weird but he enjoyed your eyes on him, watching him to see how he’d react. Now you’re in his car half the nights a week and he should ask you on a proper date but… you seem wary of him and not in the same way he is of you. Rockford could be reading into it too much, he tends to do that a lot more now. Maybe you’re actually wary of him in the same way? He could review his notes he took if he could find his damn black book.

“Rockford! What the hell are you still doing here? Go home!” Tim sits up and looks in his doorway. His balding Captain is there with his crooked toupee. He should just shave it off. Now that he thinks of it, he could dress up like Kojak. His wife would need to pick out his suits though, the Captain puts too many patterns together. The man is wearing a zebra print button-down, red pinstripe pants and a yellow tie. That’s what the Captain wears when not in uniform. His wife might be helping her sister with her baby again, he clearly picked his own clothes again. Tim finds himself thankful that he can match his own clothes without help.

“Sir, I’m almost done with some reports. Didn’t want to leave them for Monday.” Rockford responds. He picks up his phone to snap a quick picture of the Captain’s outfit, knowing Doc’s eyes would go wide before ending up face down on her desk in tears from laughing so hard. Tim swallowed. A quick flash of another thought flashed in his head of Doc face down in an entirely different situation. “Shit.” He muttered. The Captain nodded and left as Rockford saw some text messages from someone he didn’t expect. “He better not be asking me to stream any more of his movies. I’ve seen all of them three times. I told you to fire those two con-artists….” Rockford has finally opened his messages and it didn’t have to do with any movies.

Tim’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. He called his brother, seething and confused. When Dieter answered, he didn’t allow him to speak. “You tell me right now where Doc is. What the hell have you done…” The detective growled, making Dieter reconsider his plan. He knew Tim might be mad but had only heard that tone come out when he broke a guy’s arm for stalking Dieter early in his acting career before he blew up and thankfully before Tim graduated the police academy.

“Now see…what had happened was…I had a bad idea. Which I realize the full extent of now.” Bravo paused. “Your lady friend is fine. It seems she’s a sleepy drunk. I was going to poke fun at you but you’re clearly not in the mood-,”

“Dion. Stop. The. Bullshit.” Tim stated each word in the same simmering tone. He shut down his computer, put on his coat, and headed for the door to his office. “Address. Now.”

“Ahh…Okay let me just ask someone real quick. I was dropped off, you know.”

“Two minutes Dion.” 

“Yup. On it.” Dieter is fully aware that per his request Tim calls him Dieter even when it’s just the two of them. The last time Tim called Dieter ‘Dion,’ he may have had one dumpster full of compost dumped on Tim’s ex-wife’s lawn. It was a gift since she liked to garden and constantly prune his brother’s dreams. His card had said so. Tim did not appreciate the gesture at the time. He did later though.

Bravo sent Tim the address and he plugged it into his phone. He knew the neighborhood, on the richer side of the county. Why was she there? How did she meet his brother? Why is she drunk? Now he knows she’s a sleepy drunk, and that picture… He’d seen it. How could Tim not think about it, sure she was asleep but she looked radiant in the gold against her skin. It would be a lot better with one of his cameras he had at home instead a stupid phone camera. Not now Tim you need to drive. Dieter can barely care for himself, how is he going to look after Doc? He can’t fight at all, no matter how the stunt team tried to work with him. Let’s just hope she’s only drunk. What kind of party would she go to where he would be there too?

Your head is spinning a bit but you see the fluffy hair and the hippo suit. You’re sitting…that’s right! You fell asleep. With all these people, at a party. 

“I'm an idiot.” You groan sitting your head up, your body still feels heavy.

“Sleeping beauty is awake, your trench coat knight is coming. Could you tell him not to maim or murder me? Please? I gotta go to Milan to meet this screenwriter who might be able to get me in a Nic Cage movie he’s doing. It helps if I’m not dead.” Dieter gives you very pathetic looking eyes, but you’re not sure why.

“I don’t know who my knight is. What did you do?” You’re not entirely sure what Dieter is talking about. The room is still spinning a bit. You’ve sat up but you’ve hung your head to help with the dizziness.

“Why did I have to do something? You don’t even know me Doc.”

“Doc? You don’t call me that. It doesn’t sound right.” Your entire face contorts and Dieter holds his arms out whining.

“Tim calls you that. That’s your title, you’re a doctor. Or is it like a weird pet name between you two? I’m gonna ask him when he gets here. If he doesn’t harm me.” You pay no attention to his head tilt. Your body goes rigid, you’re hoping Dieter is just talking out of his ass.

“Wait…Tim is coming here? No, no, no,no,no!! What did you do? You insane weirdo hippo! Why haven’t you taken that off? You’re wearing something under that right? You’re not one of those….I mean. I’m not into it, but you do you Dieter.” Your surprise masks your panic for a few moments before it returns and to shoot to your feet. “Forget that, I’m not…I can’t see him like this. This isn’t…wait there hasn’t been a murder here has there?” A second wave of panic sets in, if Tim is coming here, there’s been a murder. You’re at a scene of a murder while drunk, wearing less clothes then you might wear to bed most nights and you’d have to explain not only to Rockford but the other detectives and officers why you’re here. Not a bad reason, but they don’t need to see you dressed like this. You’ve finally got everyone to call you ‘Doctor’ or ‘Miss Doc’ instead of ‘young lady.’ They’d never let you live this down.

Bravo rocks himself up off the couch and places his hands on your shoulders. You can’t take him seriously in that hippo suit.  “You spun pretty fast. I sent him a picture of you while you were dozing and he’s coming to pick you up. Your friend Kim knows you’re going with him. He’s not happy that I took a picture of you so could you just, make sure I live? I mean think of it as doing your brother-in-law a solid.” You’ve closed your eyes while he’s talking and are shaking your head. 

“This is…a nightmare…a damn nightmare…” You start laughing at the absurdity of it all. You almost wish Kim was here to sing her bone song and it would be a perfect nightmare. Dieter mentions that you should meet Tim out front, that way he won’t need to look for you and it may earn him a point or two. He also put the hippo head back on. If all else fails, he tells you to pretend to not know him as a hippo and he’ll just watch and then waddle away. You decide it doesn’t matter what Dieter decides to do, this is going to be so weird. 

On his way out, Tim went down to Doc’s office where he got a spare key from the maintenance guy Joe six months ago. He had told him at the time it was for when Doc was off and that had a sub-ME come in who he had to double check behind. Or course, that’s not at all what Tim does, but Joe bought it because like his younger brother, Tim might be able to pull off some acting when he needs to. Based on what she was wearing, she needed something to put over herself. It’s way too cool for her not to and despite the alcohol she drank, she’d feel it when she got a cold later. On the drive over, he tried to plan what he would say, sure he was pissed at Dieter and he’d yell at him later about that. Would Doc be weirded out that he’s coming to pick her up? Should he have called Kim? She's Doc's friend but he can’t stand her. Kim’s good at her job and keeps things organized, but she’s a damn…well he wouldn’t say block. Just, she always interrupts with that smug look like she knows how he feels about Doc and makes little comments. Doc’s oblivious but eventually with enough of Kim’s words, she’ll understand that he likes her as more than a work friend. He’s sure he can’t have that conversation with her, especially if she didn’t feel the same.

Dieter leads Doc through the house, getting lost in a few rooms before they finally reach the main entrance. In full hippo costume, Bravo waits near the double doors, just in case Tim comes at him, he can hide behind one. He knows the stairs will slow him down. Doc stands in front of the stairs and holds her breath as she sees the brown Crown Victoria she consumes large amounts of Chinese food in pulls to a stop next to her. She walks toward the passenger side door, but Tim puts down the window. “Hey Tim.” Your voice is hushed. 

“Wait. Don’t get in yet.” Something unexpected happens. It’s not that he gets out and opens the door for you or even that he has your lab coat, though you are curious how he has it since you lock your office before you leave every night. Tim says your name softly before helping you put your arms through the sleeves and he pulls on the collar so it’s a bit snug around your neck and by extension your chest. You’re left to look up at the man you’ve admired for the past few years, the same one you keep lying to yourself that it’s only admiration you feel for him. 

“Tim…I’m sorry you had to come. I-I’m not usually… Thanks for coming. And don’t kill Dieter, just rough him up a little.” You give him a weak smile, you’re ecstatic that he’s driving out to pick you up, but feel horrible that you’re hungover and in a flashy gold skimpy disco dress when you see your detective outside of work. You wanted to have seen him in a more elegant outfit or at least something that didn’t have all your thighs and breasts out. Why couldn’t you have heard him say you name over a nice dinner? Hell even some Chinese food in your office would have been better than this, you’ve got the beginnings of a hangover and it’s not how you wanted Tim to see you outside of work. You’re not sloppy, messy and a tad obsessive sure, but not sloppy.

“Don’t apologize Doc. You’re entitled to fun after-hours. Just keep it safer next time. I was worried.” Rockford tells you quietly. His hands are still on your collar and run down to pull the lab coat snug around your middle which you flinch from his knuckles grazing your stomach. He calls your name again in the same soft tone as he smiles, “I’ve got one too. Not as soft as yours, mine’s a hard spare tire. Um…” Tim realizes he may have said something odd. He shouldn’t be referencing your body in any way but he has now. He feels like he put his own foot in his mouth, it’s not what he meant to say. “I..the gold looks perfect on you.” Rockford is making an effort to focus on your face, but his eyes drift to your lips, a bright shade of pink and even though he’s pulled your collar tight, he can still see your cleavage. There was more of it than he assumed was under those scrubs of yours. “I didn’t mean to mention…You’re a beautiful woman. You look good in anything, let’s get you home.” 

If you could melt and fade away you would, where is this tender side of Tim Rockford coming from? Is it from pity? You could care less. It’s clear that he was looking at you, seeing past your usual scrubs, his eyes had scanned your form. Maybe this outfit wasn’t as bad as you thought and he’s seeing a fair bit of the goods as Kim would put it. Tim’s staring at them in fact after calling you beautiful. Does he… Is he attracted to me? I don’t think I ever thought this far ahead…dammit I’m thinking of that stupid bone song again. But I mean…

As Tim motions his hand for you to get in the car, the hippo who supposedly was worried about life and limb has a sudden outburst, “For the love of..?! What is this? You suck Tim!” A waddling hippo is coming toward the both of you continuing to berate his brother, “You’re going to do all that with her coat you damn tease? You didn’t even hug her or kiss her! No wonder Doc drank so much punch!” Dieter then turns to you, his large stuffed head bobbing about. “Is this how he is all the time?! I thought maybe you were being dramatic but I see you weren’t. This is swoon-worthy but you need to make it count big bro. Like she’s right here!” He points his gray mitts at you, your face feels like someone has put it under a lamp and it’s burning. 

“Dieter, Shut up! Now!” You scream and get in the car, slamming the door. “Tim, we should go. Take me home please.” You’re mortified looking straight ahead in the car, hoping that he won’t ask. Tim’s a detective, of course he’s going to ask. What will you tell him? He ruined the moment…can I get another take without the damn hippo?!

Rockford shakes his head and pushes Dieter’s hippos head enough so he stumbles back but doesn’t fall. “Go back to the party, dumbass. This isn’t one of your movies.”

Dieter regains his footing and yells at Tim as he gets in his car, “You’re right it’s not! In one of my movies, she’d be a lot more satisfied than she is right now!” Tim flips the bird toward Dieter out of his driver side window and over the hood of his car. 

As Tim drives off he sighs and turns on the radio. He has questions, but knows you're way too uncomfortable to answer any of them now. ‘I’m In Love’ by Evelyn “Champagne” King plays and Tim mumbles under his breath, “Of all the times…” Any other time I’d enjoy this song. It’s way too on the nose.

“Tim, I don't want to go home.” You’re watching the houses pass by as you speak. It could be the rum you drank, the fact that you spoke at length with a hippo who said he’s your ‘brother in law’ or that you’re now aware of how Tim sees you, at least in this outfit. “Can we stop and get something to eat? To soak up the alcohol, unless you’re not hungry?”

Rockford squeezes the steering wheel tighter, “Yeah we can. You feel up to talking while we eat at the usual place or you have somewhere else you want to Doc?” He’s keeping his eyes forward. If he looks over, his eyes will linger again and he needs to focus on driving. Supposedly. 

“Where we can get a burger and milkshake.” Is your request and Tim agrees, making a few turns toward the diner you’ve both talked about going to but haven’t been yet. It was supposed be for when another big homicide case came through but, well this could be considered a large case of a different nature. 

Back at the precinct, there are a few officers on the night watch milling about and taking calls. Things are calm, they’re looking forward to eight in the morning when their shift will end. One officer notices that the mascot for their precinct, ‘Sergeant Roderick Hipops’ named and gifted to the station by the Captain’s daughter when she was four, isn’t on the podium in the command room where the Captain will give updates and assign cases for the day. A couple of the officers decide to track the hippo down so they won’t be the ones that lost it. Their search leads them to the corridor outside of the morgue, where they find Sergeant Hipops, but he’s dipped in red paint. He’s wearing a navy police coat and a small hat in his permanent seated position. One officer points out that it’s too thick to be paint, it’s blood. Their search expands and crimson drops on the floor lead them to the morgue, where they discover a body.

Stevenson, Detective Tim Rockford’s partner, had a gunshot wound in the middle of his forehead on the slab where Doc normally performs her autopsies.

Part Two Part Four

Peeps who would let Tim take their photo 📸: @alltheglitterandtheroar @sin-djarin @morallyinept @yorksgirl @bitchwitch1981 @heareball @megamindsecretlair @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @yorksgirl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @avastrasposts @clawdee @pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing @rhoorl @inept-the-magnificent @pamasaur @agentjackdaniels @pedroshotwifey @tinytinymenace @anoverwhelmingdin

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #tim rockford #tim rockford fanfiction #Tim Rockford x plus size OFC #Rock & Doc #trench coat #A Nerdie fic #pedro pascal characters x plus size

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 05/01/2024

Plastic Love of the Stars

Season 4 Episode 2 No Album Release (Read More) Game Over (JP Version) - Kirby's Dream Land 3

Ripped by Pinci

I feel like its hard to overstate just how much people fell in love with Mariya Takeuchi in 2019. Her introduction to the King for Another Day Tournament to me initially left me scratching my head, because it seemed to be referencing a part of YouTube's algorithm of recommended videos that I had personally never encountered. Nevertheless, I saw a lot of people happy with her inclusion, and just sort of shrugged and kept watching the SiIva Direct in which she was unveiled. That complete apathy toward her inclusion persisted for me, and likely many others, until we got a tease of her full powers in the final SiIva Direct, held on the 21st of September leading up to the Tournament's premiere (hey, September! Remember that?). Aside from that one arrangement, we'd be teased with the introduction of character mash-up rips through one with Mariya herself in it - The Whims of Plastic Love. The rip positively exploded when it was uploaded on its own two months later, and it to me marked the point when Mariya Takeuchi's popularity in the tournament truly spiked.

The year therafter, the tournament had long since concluded, and we were all waiting for DJ Professor K's takeover event to begin. We all knew the results, and at least personally I'd finally accepted that the tournament would only have one winner. Yet we all still loved all the contestants - their impact hadn't gone away just from not reaching first place. And so, it didn't take long for rips like Plastic Love of the Stars to become appearing - rips that reminded us that these contestants were now forever part of SiIva's legacy, even if they wouldn't get a day to themselves.

Keep in mind, this was long before 11 Minutes of City Pop, and long before the DJ Professor K takeover itself would remind of us just how much the team also loved all of the tournament's contestants, with rips like Agent H (HOBaRT the Funny Mixer Theme). So really, it was stuff like Plastic Love of the Stars that sort of stealth-started the celebrations that were to come later in the year, bringing everyone together after all those months of excitement in the year that had just passed.

It helps, of course, that Plastic Love of the Stars is a fucking banger of an arrangement! It follows suit with rips like Aquadial or Beyond the Floating Isles, where it truly is just as simple as the ripper wanting to explore the unique soundscapes that Kirby games feature by arranging another song in it, and like those two the picks suit the Kirby game in question damn near perfectly. Kirby's Dream Land 3 in particular, much like Kirby 64, sounds completely unlike anything else out there, and is probably my personal favorite Kirby soundtrack out there? It's the equivalent of listening to pastel colors, and that relaxing cheerfulness paired with the enchantingly deep bassline suits Plastic Love like a glove. It came as no surprise to learn that Pinci is a guest contributor who otherwise has a career in making remixes and rearrangements with the SNES sound in particular - the guy's work is absolutely incredible, and his range of coverage for Kirby in particular is fantastic. Please check this rip out, and when you're done, check out his YouTube channel - his arrangement of Door into Summer from Knuckles' Chaotix has been stuck in my head all day.

#todays siivagunner #season 4 episode 2 #siivagunner #siiva #tentative rip name #Pinci #Youtube #mariya takeuchi #city pop #jpop #kirby #snes music #snes #kirby's dream land 3 #kirby games #hoshi no kirby #hoshi no kaabii #plastic love #telephone number (1984)

[christinesficrecs]

Hi! What are your go to fics, or fics you can reread and just never tire of them? ☺️

Happy Friday! 💜

I am so boring! My comfort fics hardly ever change! You can find more favorites here, and some longer fics if that's your thing.

Beltane by  DevilDoll | 8.2K

“Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he’s seeing something intimate and private that shouldn’t have an audience. That’s nothing compared to how it feels.” This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.

Turn a Little Faster by skoosiepants | 3.2K

He shifts back and forth on his feet and tries to psych himself up. He can do this. He’s a badass werewolf, he can totally tell Stiles that they accidentally got werewolf married because—because Stiles was thinking about him, and happened to give him a token of his, uh, affection under the silvery light of the last full moon. Platonic affection, Derek thinks sourly, so he doesn’t get why his wolf feels all warm and fuzzy and bonded all of a sudden.

Honestly, it’s like—why aren’t people accidentally getting werewolf married all the time, if it happens this easily?

Wild and Reckless Breeze by  GotTheSilver | 15.7K

In which Stiles is killing time working at a bookshop, Derek buys a lot of Chuck Palahniuk and they start hanging out, much to the confusion of Scott and the Sheriff.

anything, anything | 5.2K 

Stiles wakes up in Derek’s bed in a world where they’re married now, and Derek keeps leaving the room every time he tries to have a conversation about how this happened, since they weren’t even dating.

never found a boy (to love me like you do) | 6.6K | Mature

Stiles sits down opposite him, long fingers wrapping round the vodka bottle’s neck as he drags it towards him. “Huh.” He’s practically caressing the lid as he unscrews it and Derek shifts in his seat, looks determinedly elsewhere.

The Love You Save (May Be Your Own) by Nokomis | 17.5K 

Everyone falls magically in love with Stiles. Well, except for Derek, who is suspiciously immune.

Hemingway Can Suck It | 10K

In which Stiles is a Biology professor and Derek thinks he’s a student.

Introduction to Zero-Sum Anthropology by  apocryphal | 19.7K

Stiles buys Derek a set of cooking spoons. Derek retaliates with lunch. The war begins.

Good Intentions by yodasyoyo | 6.4K

In which Stiles thought he fake wolf-married Derek twenty-six years previously. Turns out it wasn’t as fake as he thought.

Show Me The Way Back Home Baby by  stilinskisparkles | 14.9K

In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world’s cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy– the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

Mix and Match by  Jerakeen | 6.1K

Stiles walks into the Beacon Hills alpha-omega mixer with a smile on his face and three condoms in his wallet.

Chocolate & Pomegranates by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 9.6K

Derek has been an Omega for what feels like centuries. He is constantly hounded by Alphas and Betas who can’t control their hormones. He’s thankful for Laura defending his honor, but there is one person he’s always dreamed of giving himself to.

Too bad Derek is certain Stiles doesn’t know he exists.

One Dollar Yoda by exclamation | 10.7K | Mature

Stiles is an unbonded spark, so he’s been dealing with courting alphas since he was ten. It’s gotten a lot worse since he turned sixteen. Some are assholes, some are nice, but Stiles hasn’t wanted to spend the rest of his life bound to any of them.

When Derek Hale shows up at his school, Stiles expects him to be just another asshole alpha attempting to buy him with expensive gifts. But Derek Hale puts no effort whatsoever into his courtship gifts. Stiles ought to be offended but instead he finds it refreshing.

Believer and a Homecoming by  lsdme | 11K

“I’m serious Derek,” Stiles whispers. “Come home.”

Kingdom By The Sea By TheCriminal | 4K

Lydia grabs his arm and pulls him down in the seat next to her. “When the hell did you find time to bag a guy like Hale?”

“We’re friends,” Stiles feels his face heat up, and then the team are running out and Derek sees him and smiles. His blush gets worse.

Every stumble and each misfire by everchanginginks | 14K

Stiles hasn’t seen or heard from Derek in ten years. It’s a bit of a surprise to find out about Derek’s return to Beacon Hills through Tinder

thank god your heart is too close by  hoars | 3.4K

There’s a boy, (“Fuck you, dude. I’m seventeen. Not fifteen.” Stiles laughs in his memory) waiting for him back home.

Tell Me, So I Know by TroubleIWant | 7.4K

It took years for Derek to finally confront the way he felt about Stiles, and even after he figured it out he could only explain in Spanish. It took them two years more to get to where they were now. Only with neither of them quite willing to commit, where exactly is that, anyways?

Well, for Stiles it’s a deserted stretch of road behind the Hale house, half trapped in a car wreck after being abducted by hunters. Frankly, he could really use Derek’s help if he’s going to get out of this alive. Mates are supposed to be able to tell when the other is in pain, right? As Derek would probably say, ‘querido, no.’

Or, a love story in two parts… and two languages

Fuzzy Logic by  Sparseparsley | 6.5K  | bodyswap

Derek and Stiles switch bodies because of wizard reasons and Stiles just wants to know what that awesome scent is.

last night’s dress (tiptoe out of this mess) by hito | 16.7K

TFLN: My dad just asked me if my booty call guy that comes over at 3am and leaves at 6 would like to stay for Sunday brunch next week. You in?

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #read all the fics #chris' favorite fics

[bu1410]

Good morning TUMBLR. From today February 29, 2024, I have decided to publish a sort of memoir of my life in installments on TUMBLR. These are memories of travel and work experiences around the world, over a period of approximately 40 years.

The title is': ''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

I hope to interest at least three or four readers.

Introduction Why this curious title, you will ask yourselves, my dear 3 or 4 readers. Well I have to think back to an evening way back in 1971, where I was one of the 20,000-odd spectators at a Led Zeppelin concert, the greatest rock group of all time. The concert, which had just begun for goodness sake, was interrupted by police charges, and we were forced to flee from the Vigorelli velodrome in Milan following the throwing of tear gas. Much has been said and written about that unfortunate evening. The fact is that despite Robert Plant's appeals for calm (Smile! Smile! Smile! he shouted into the microphone) which also sounded a little ironic, given the frequent firing of tear gas, at a certain point under the pressure of the human tide who was pushing us against the stage (we were among the lucky ones in the front rows) me and the 3 friends with whom I had come to attend the concert were forced to flee towards the velodrome track, and then to climb over the fence. In the excitement of the moment I lost one of my tennis shoes, but by then I was on the other side of the fence, and about 2 or 3 thousand people wanted to do the same thing, that is, climb over the fence! So I had to abandon the unhealthy idea of going back to the other side to retrieve the shoe. We somehow managed to escape from the velodrome, and took refuge on the floor of the FIAT 850 parked around there, in which we had come to the concert. Meanwhile the battle raged all around us. Every now and then we took a look out the windows, but the smoke from the tear gas and the burning cars didn't allow us to see much of what was happening. There were only big bangs and explosions of weapons and sirens that wouldn't stop screaming. I remember clearly seeing and hearing a lady from one of the balconies of the condominiums around the velodrami shouting at the policemen: ''Kill all those bastards…….don't leave even one alive….!! It all ended after hours, and all we had to do was sadly return home, happy to have saved our skin. The car - owned by the friend Eridano's mother - was full of dents, but the windows were intact. Later, when I finally got home, I threw the remaining shoe in the garbage.

INCIPIT But who is Bruno Sironi? It's easy to say: a child of '68 and the so-called ''Economic Boom'' - one of the many (all…) who had been made to believe that ''life will always be better'' and that ''the future will belongs''(and the best is yet to come) One who saw Italians go from the Vespa to the ''500'' and from the 500 to the 600 and then gradually the 850 and then the FIAT UNO and the Ritmo…and the butchers' boys ride in Alfa GT Junior (1,260,000 Lire in 1970) . To then understand that this was not the case and suddenly, just as it had begun, the era of continuous ''progress'' could (and did) end (and end badly). One who had to hear Comrade ''in cashmere'' Bertinotti that ''For the first time since the end of the last war there is the prospect that children will have a worse life than their fathers''. And the lawyer Agnelli declared in the famous television interview with Mixer in 1984 - to a question from the journalist Minoli on what Italy's prospects could be - he first adjusted his sypholine leg, and then replied: ''But you see Minoli… I believe that if all goes well… within a couple of decades Italy will be able to aspire to a standard of living equal to the best of the so-called Socialist countries, namely Hungary''. And that son of so-called progress, who has now grown old, has now realized that there is never an end to the worst. Because trying to make things worse - beyond Murphy's Laws - is in the nature of man (especially homo Italicus) much more than improving them. And that perhaps human beings start out with the best intentions, but then along the way, when faced with difficulties, they choose compromise, circumventing the obstacle, and almost never overcoming it. And finally, at all latitudes, in every historical period, and under any type of regime, what characterizes human beings is the instinct of dominance. And man's obsession with dominance derives from the very origin of animal DNA, and binds the destiny of every one of us. With these premises, and with a lot of suffering, I began my working adventure abroad by leaving for Arabia (Not Felix…) on 5 May 1980. Yes, the day of the anniversary of Napoleon's death, which I remembered (and I remember still …) by heart the poem dedicated to him by Alessandro Manzoni: He was….since immobile given the mortal sigh….He stood the remains oblivious to such a breath. But before that first trip, there are things and events that are worth telling, because as always, nothing is as it seems. As often happens, a friend, a certain Figini Mauro, approached me one day at the bar and said: ''You know, I have an uncle who works for a large construction company in Milan, with activities abroad'' – Really? ? I answer immediately interested - and what's his name, give me all the details, put me in contact with him, I want to try to have an interview (in short I felt inside that it could be more than one possibility) No sooner said than done, the day arrives when I am summoned to the offices of the ''Great Society''. The headquarters was located at the end of a street in the south of Milan, the continuation of Via Savona, after Viale Tibaldi. I get there first by trolleybus 90 (the Circunvallasiun) and then by walking for a few hundred meters on a dirt road. Admitted inside, I am introduced to a manager by the famous ''Uncle'' - who sings my praises: ''a good boy, good family, I guarantee'' (never seen or heard from the ''Uncle'' before that moment…) It is agreed that, before leaving for Saudi Arabia (Saudi Arabia???), I should spend a few days in an architecture studio in Milan (in Via Pantano). Architect Sala will take care of me, and possibly judge whether I am suitable to be sent to Saudi to draw up the so-called As Built (an English expression meaning ''As built'') drawings, i.e. how any project has been completed, with the changes made during construction highlighted. I thus learn (from Arch Sala) that the Big Society is building a military hospital in Dahran in the Eastern province (a military hospital which later, during the Gulf wars, proved to be very useful).

I then spent a week in the famous architecture studio, which I reached every morning with the public transport of the time: tram from Nova M. to via Farini, then the 8, which took me to via Orefici on the corner of Duomo. And then on foot along Via Mazzini, Via Larga – Via Pantano. Declared ''Suitable'' for the purpose (after having designed a hospital stretcher beater) I was then hired by Big Society and sent to Saudi with the Milan Linate – Rome – Riyadh – Dahran flights: I have a vivid memory of the seat on the left on the plane that I occupied, and of the vision of the Pre-Alps when we turned towards the South: the mountains of my youth disappeared on the horizon… No, it doesn't seem to me that ''as if it were now'', perhaps the opposite: I have the clear perception how much time has passed, 40 or more years… even the century has changed…….

[coffee-with-mint-syrup]

Incredibly messy list of reasons why Saiteru is real and why I ship them (with occasional examples)

(and a little fan art to draw the attention)

Disclaimer: I did not read the manga, I watched anime and then searched for examples in manga as in supreme source

A little introduction.

There's a two things about Saiki K. that I need to mention before I will try to prove that Saiki actually likes Teruhashi back.

First of all, hope we can all agree on that, Saiki as the protagonist is unreliable narrator. This comes both from a) the form of the series - the fact that we as viewers don't see things the way Saiki does (just like with his X-ray vision, he's unable to see Teruhashi's appearance, but we actually can - so he says she's not that special or pretty while we can appreciate her beauty) and b) his view of relationships he has. He can deny his friendship with Nendou, Kaido and others all he wants, but we, as viewers see in every episode that he loves them dearly. He can say all he wants about how he's not gonna solve other people problems, but he helps every time and so on.

An secondly (kinda follows the last statement) he is tsundere. Not even kinda tsundere - he's hereditary tsundere and takes this after his grandfather.

Those two points I based my proofs on establish one big thesis - we're not gonna get any real straight verbal confirmation from Saiki that he has any feelings towards anyone, especially Teruhashi. So instead we gonna do what shippers do best - thoroughly search for any indirect evidences that something in fact goes on between them.

This list is based purely on objective and subtle changes in Saiki's patterns of behaviour.

So here's reasons why Saiteru is in fact real in no particular order:

Mixer issue.

The thing going on between Saiki and Teruhashi changes after Mixer date (there's also a post here on the subject of how it changes everything which I do not intend to repeat). I just wanna say that there were a million of ways of how it could go with the basically same outcome. But no. From Saiki actually showing up at the mixer to control things like some sort of power broker to the very end of the issue there is:

Kusuo's irritation at those guys generally;

his mentioning that he knows Teruhashi's preferences (like, yeah, he reads people minds, duh, but how much exactly he had to read her mind to know her favourite song or joke? It's not something you think about all the time, you know);

appreciation of her thoughts about him;

smile;

admitting he would/does enjoy this;

and rock-paper-scissors. This just blows my shipper mind - he actually participated in gambling on Teruhashi and actually won the game on purpose just for the sake of it. Of course it played out as a joke, but guys, GUYS! He literally won Kokomi-chan! On purpose! He participated in something this ... morally questionable, even though if he felt indifferent about her he would'd just thought something like "she's not an object to gamble on her")

Saiki usually tries to ignore his friends inviting him to some special events (New Year eve or Kaido's secret base and so on) until it's absolutely rude to decline or there's a chance something will go wrong or his mom is nearby. But these few times Teruhashi didn't even ask him to go somewhere (milkshake incident, mixer) he avoided her asking him but still followed her around.

He did in fact say "of-fu". Out loud. While being completely silent all the time. No more comments (mic drop).

Cultural festival lottery.

This one is tricky and requires analysis. So there's actually two lotteries involving Teruhashi - first one to choose her group for Okinawa trip and second one is cultural festival committee members. Both lotteries is drawn by Teruhashi knowing she will draw Saiki with Kami-sama's help and Saiki knowing she's gonna succeed. But in the Okinawa lottery he overplays her and uses X-ray vision and telekinesis to change her draw.

And in the cultural festival committee member (which happens after mixer) he just...don't.

And it's not even about avoiding Teruhashi personally, this time it's about avoiding huge pain in the ass cultural festival committee member is. As for me, personally, crush or no crush, I would do everything to not have such responsibilities. And he just chooses not to do anything? Even though this time it would be worse than a trip in one group of six, it would require them actually working together, possibly with no one around.

Cultural festival issue #2. Saiki admitted that their superpowers work together perfectly and when combined they are in fact invincible. While doing something so trivial as school play.

Prior to that he worked together with his actual psi-team with some actual superpowers over something not so trivial (stopped train) and even though he admitted he wouldn't do that with such efficiency without them but he didn't say a word about their powers complementing each other, their working together this well or something like this - but he did say something this cheesy to Teruhashi, your usual perfect bishoujo.

Kusuo felt incredibly irritated when his brother bothered her (and kinda proud of her when he paid him back with her powers). Saiki from first chapters would've just use the crowd to teleport (like he actually did with Teruhashi when he didn't say "of-fu" for the first time) and left those two alone. Also, do you see it here? Saiki, you're being a little bit hypocritical, don't you?

He stops avoiding her or plotting so that she fall out of love with him after mixer issue.

He's incredibly annoyed at her brother but still deals with him instead of just disappearing out of his sight (especially birthday present episode).

I don't actually think that issue with her overwhelming herself fits here. He would do the same for Kaido or anybody of his friends. He's irritated at guys but it kinda rational reaction for him about the cause of someone's suffering. He kinda opposes himself and them, but he has a god complex, he always does this.

He constantly complements her after mixer. Constantly. It's basically praises to her whether they are working together and he complements her superpowers, or he helps her with press club and compliments her anti-stalker skills or her overwhelming herself just to maintain her perfect bishoujo image and he compliments her dedication.

He actually thought that she's pretty at the end of the series. Legitimately. No other comments, just this. Okay, maybe also that I'm happy that he had a chance to look at her without his powers. But also it means that if he really did like her before this, which I think he did, he liked glowing skeleton/humonoid body of muscles. You know, perfect form of liking other person without knowing how they actually look.

Reasons why I personally ship them.

(Obviously) Kami-sama is on Teruhashi's side. No matter what. Like come on guys. Its inevitable at this point. Even Saiki stopped resisting.

Teruhashi feels super comfortable with Saiki's friends - as opposed to literally every other guy in their school when she has to overwhelm herself just to talk to them. On contrary, Nendou, Kaido and Kurosaki usually have no problem hanging out with Teruhashi. Like yeah, they blush sometimes and act like she is blessing them with her presence, but they do not put the same kind of pressure that everybody else does.

They both have super weird (pervert) elder brothers they suffer from.

He sees all her imperfect thoughts and feelings and still choses to respect Teruhashi for both her good qualities and her flaws. (But guys, actually, how great this trope is? Someone knows all your dirtн secrets and bad thoughts and still chooses not only to love you (not talking about Saiki, cause it's debatable, even though I do think he loves her back, but generally speaking) but actually respects you for that?)

Saiki's almost omnipotent powers can't beat Teruhashi's powers of luck and ability to be loved by Kami-sama. And her powers are only powers in the show he has to reckon with constantly and that challenges him on multiple occasions. Not only that - he actually loses to her almost every time. Which is ironic, cause the only time Teruhashi did really lose against him in every possible way - it was the first time she appears in manga, when he didn't say of-fu and she eventually kinda fell in love with him.

This one goes a bit deeper then this post meant to be, but Teruhashi's life is actually terrible. She learned to enjoy it and to get the best out of the situation she's in, but that is truly a nightmare. Her brother is a pervert who is able to give her underwear as a present and wishes he could marry her. All of the boys literally block her way on regular basis. She has a fanclub who can approve or disapprove her social interactions (i don't think she pays much attention to them, but what if she knew they tried to tell her crush not to talk to her?). Press club is constantly after her, trying to take or photoshop embarassing fotos of her (borderline pornography). And every one of them sees her as an object. As a doll. A beautiful picture. So it's only consistent for her as a character to fall for guy who doesn't fall for her act and sees her as she is. It's beautiful. She needs that.

In conclusion (if someone will actually read to this point) I wanna say that for me the best ship is the ship that didn't happen but was implied. Especially with such complicated characters like Saiki K. It gives so much place to debate, to search for subtle evidences that there is some sort of affection or that there's not, to interpret facts and play with them, trying to understand authors intentions and finding some clues and hints...it's just so much more fun that established ships.

#saiteru #saiki x teruhashi #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #teruhashi kokomi #essay nobody asked for #why the hell did I just spend on this last 5 hours #i should just get a life #extremely long post