God was too scared of the version of me that did my assignments on time, didn’t have mental breakdowns every other day, and had laundry done. So instead he made me the most pathetic human being ever

I feel like I need to make an appointment with my therapist. I haven’t been in a few months. And I’m starting to feel...not great. Like it’s not full on depression, but I’m definitely starting to struggle with things. My schoolwork isn’t suffering yet, thank goodness, because it would suck to have everything fall apart in my final semester. But like my relationships with my friends and people around me? Again not great. I’ve been forgetting to message people on their birthdays and I’ve been canceling on my friends more often and just generally not feeling great to be around.

And I have this co-worker who is really nice, but we swapped numbers and she’s been texting me quite a bit. More than I usually like to text. I’ve tried to set boundaries to let her know that sometimes I don’t respond right away. But I don’t think she gets it? I don’t know. At work we’re fine, but I hate feeling like I have to respond to every single thought she has, which is what’s it felt like with some of the texts she’s sent. I know she’s older and lives alone, but I also know she has other friends. Like can’t she please text them instead? I like having a work friend and I don’t really mind that it’s gone outside of just work, but for me less is better.

And also, I’ve realized this job is not the best fit for me. Like I’m getting a library science degree and everything I do at the job involving the books is great. Sorting, shelving, checking in, all great. But dealing with the public is just exhausting and I am not a fan. Which I had decided before I even started working there that the public library environment might not be the best fit for me. And now I know for sure, but I feel stuck there at least until I graduate, although more likely through the end of this year. I want to try to find work in an archives, but I know that job sector is hard to get into. Plus the real dream is if I could find a job that let me travel to different places for short bursts of time, before I come home for a bit, and then go back out again.

I don’t know. I’m just tired of being an adult. And really of existing. Because my rambles here are very much first world problems and haven’t even touched on the state of the world in general, which is a fucking dumpster fire. I kind of hate everything.

disappearing trick — SaguKai

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fandom | magic kaito 

pairing | kuroba kaito x hakuba saguru 

genre | angst to fluff :3 

w.c | 2.1k 

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It was a heist went wrong. 

So, so wrong. 

There were explosions and gunshots, all of which Hakuba was about 99.99% sure wasn’t in KID’s itinerary of the night. He remembered catching a glimpse of a torn white cape, the grimace of pain clear as day despite the lack of helicopters overhead, and men dressed in black. 

“KID—!” Hakuba had yelled, which, looking back, was not the smartest thing he could’ve done. The barrels of two guns instantaneously locked on him, much to the phantom thief’s horror. 

It seemed like it was the end for Hakuba Saguru. 

But of course, KID always loved to meddle in things that didn’t involve him. And so he did what he always did best. 

KID was a performer, after all. He specialised in attracting his audience’s attention to him. Flashing a cocky smirk towards Hakuba’s direction, even though there was a stream of blood trickling down his cheek, the phantom thief disappeared into the night with a loud bang, taking the two men with him. 

Kuroba Kaito was ‘kidnapped’ the same night. 

According to Aoko, who had been in the Nakamouri house when the teen was attacked, there had been a loud crash, gunshots, and yelling. The girl had hid under the kitchen counter in fright, hoping and praying with all her heart that Kaito hadn’t been home at the time of the break-in. 

As it turned out, he was. 

The crime scene investigators turned Kuroba’s house upside down, finding multiple signs that the teen boy had been shot, if the splatters of blood (That all had Kaito’s DNA) was any indication. It was also concluded by the investigators that Kaito put up a hell of a fight, as there were signs of his magic tricks all through the house. 

Hakuba was still being treated for shock at the heist location when Detective Nakamouri received a call from his devastated, hysterical daughter, who sobbed so loudly through the phone that the blonde detective overheard.

It was only one disaster after another. 

For once, Hakuba chose to stay out of the crime scene, instead stroking Aoko’s back as comfortingly as he could, trying not to think about Kaito’s body, abandoned in some dark alley dumpster. His coat was soaked through with splotches of her tears, but he didn’t care much, because he himself felt like crying, too. 

━━━━━━━

School the next day was eerily quiet. Practically everyone had heard of Kaito’s kidnapping, and if they didn’t, Aoko’s swollen eyes were a dead giveaway that something had happened to the playful teen. The teacher kept glancing up, as if she was waiting for an interruption, only to flick her eyes onto the empty seat at the corner of the classroom. The topic lingered like a dark cloud above the classroom, and no one dared to even mention the name ‘Kaito’ when Aoko was within hearing distance. 

“He’s alive.” 

Hakuba glanced up after a few moments of silence, realising that Akako was talking to him. “What?” 

“Kuroba.” Akako continued impatiently. “He’s alive.” 

The blonde detective couldn’t help but snort. “And how did you come to that conclusion? Did your crystal ball tell you that?” 

Judging by the glare the female shot in his direction, she didn’t appreciate his snark, but Hakuba just couldn’t be bothered at the moment. “He won’t go down this easily.” Akako stated, as if she’d seen Kaito alive with her own two eyes. Granted, the image hadn’t exactly been clear when she used her seer powers on him, but she could go as far as saying that the magician was still breathing. 

“Look. He was shot.” Hakuba interrupted emotionlessly. “Even if the gunshot wasn’t fatal, he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“He won’t go out that easily. You’ll see.” 

━━━━━━━

Kuroba Kaito was pronounced dead after three months. KID went back into retirement— At least, that’s what the KID division announced after no sight of any heist in the horizon. 

After a long consideration, Hakuba decided to leave Japan behind— Along with the memories of KID and Kaito— And return to Britain. Some would call him cowardly, and he would admit, yes, it was cowardly of him to run away like that, but as far as he was concerned, he didn’t care what others thought of him. 

Sure, Aoko was a little upset, but Akako had reassured her that she wasn’t going anywhere. He did feel a little bad for leaving Nakamouri behind— All her friends were disappearing, one by one, after all— 

Disappearing. 

That was KID’s— Kaito’s last trick, Hakuba thought tearily, hastily ushering the tears away as he packed the last of his clothes into the luggage bag. A disappearing trick gone wrong— And the phantom thief KID, Kuroba Kaito— Two sides of the same coin— Dropped off the surface of the planet, never to be heard from again. 

But there was no point in crying over spilled milk anymore. 

“Saguru-kun, there’s a man looking for you outside.” His housekeeper knocked on the door, informing him monotonously. “He said he has a few things to tell you before you leave Japan.” 

A quick peer out of the window gave him a glimpse of dark brown hair— A familiar stature and height, a relaxed pose— 

Hakuba had never dashed out of his room that fast in his entire life. All composure and calamity was forgotten as he practically barrelled down the stairs, narrowly missing a few boxes of belongings he had wrapped up the days prior. The door burst open with a tremendous bang! as Hakuba hurried down the front steps of his house, hoping, praying, pleading that the face that he would meet belonged to— 

“Kudou-kun?” The tone of disappointment couldn’t be avoided as Hakuba remembered just how alike the detective and the magician looked. If he was asked, the two were definitely genetically related at some degree or another. “How may I help you today?” His tone was terribly strained; he had had expectations, and he had been let down. 

Kudou Shinichi, as the great detective that rivalled many others, took quick note of Hakuba’s inner turmoil. “Hakuba-kun. I have news that you might want to... Think about before you leave Japan.” 

“Go on.” Hakuba said bitterly. Nothing could stop him from leaving Japan, he thought. Not when every corner reminded him of the man that kept him on his feet. 

“Kuroba Kaito is very much alive.” Kudou said casually, with no prior preparation or whatsoever. Hakuba looked as if he was just hit by a freight train, stunned and dazed by the words that destroyed everything he knew about life. “He’s been staying undercover to help the FBI take down the Black Organisation, who, as if seems, was after Pandora as well. Because he’s been missing for three months, its’ going to be very hard for him to explain his absence— So he has requested for me to pass you this letter in his stead.” 

The thoughts running through Saguru’s head as the slim letter was received into his head were wild. Kaito was alive? He was involved with the FBI? What was the Black Organisation— And forget the Black Organisation, what the hell was Pandora? And why couldn’t Kaito have passed him the letter himself? 

“Well, I’m going to get going.” Kudou smiled gently. “See you around, Hakuba-kun.” 

━━━━━━━

It seems like your detective skills have mellowed since my absence, Hakubastard. Your observational ability is... Mediocre, to say the least. Anyway, I suppose I should provide you with an explanation (Although I would love to go world-hopping and leave you in pursuit of the truth for the rest of your life), but I guess I owe you this much after just upping and leaving like that. Those gun wounds hurt like hell, but they weren’t going to nuff this magician up that easily. I still had a couple tricks up my sleeve— It was nice seeing you all worried about me, though! So you do care~ 

Anyway, its still not too safe for me to appear publicly in Japan. I’ve sent a letter to Aoko, so don’t worry about filling her in. I left the meeting location in your bedroom. Exactly a month from now. Better set a reminder on that pocket watch of yours, tantei. 

With love malice, 

Kuroba Kaito

“My bedroom...?” Hakuba murmured to himself, realisation striking like a flash of lightning. A quick inspection of his room turned out with a slip of yellow paper: Rivals shall meet once more, in the romantic city people adore; When the clock strikes a quarter and by the Seine shop corner. 

Saguru rushed over to his bedroom window, eyes flicking up and down the nearby streets to find Kudou Shinichi’s silhouette, but he came up empty handed— For that wasn’t Kudou Shinichi at all... Because who else would break into his bedroom just to leave a riddle? 

It didn’t take long for Hakuba to figure out the time, date, and location— Kudou— No, Kaito had said so himself. Exactly a month from then— In the ‘romantic city people adore’— Which would be Paris— ‘clock strikes a quarter’— At a quarter of a day, which would be 6am— And by the ‘Seine shop corner’— So at a coffee shop next to River Seine. 

“Baa-san!” Saguru called out into the manor, a smile on his face. “Cancel my flight ticket and book one to Paris instead.” 

━━━━━━━

Paris at 6am was quite the pretty sight. The sun was barely rising over the horizon, little splays of light shimmying over the river surface, bathing Paris in a fine, gold threads of sunshine. Not that many cafes were open at the crack of dawn, which made it even easier for Saguru to track down his cafe. 

The little coffee shop by the Seine provided an amazing view as Saguru enjoyed his morning coffee. He had taken a seat outside the cafe, the streets silent in a peaceful, docile manner, early birds already leaving their nests for the worms that were promised. 

The latte in his hands felt warm, inducing heat into his frozen fingers. Hakuba had never felt that on edge in his entire life— Would Kaito show up? 

“Lovely morning, no?” An old man commented, plopping into the seat opposite Saguru. “I love watching the sunrise from here.” 

Hakuba raised an eyebrow, looking for details of a disguise. The fat seemed genuine— The voice was deep and velvety, a little rough and raspy around the edges— The wrinkles around the eyes looked authentic— But he had seen the quality of KID’s work, and he wasn’t taking his chances.

“Indeed,” Saguru agreed with a pleasant hum, French rolling off his tongue smoothly. “Say, mister, what do you think about magic tricks?” 

“Ah, I think they’re quite quaint.” The old man replied in his deep voice, eyes forming crescent lines as he smiled. “What do you think of them, young man?” 

Saguru placed his latte back onto the cup. “I think magic tricks are nice,” He started softly, making firm eye contact with the old man, French rolling off his tongue smoothly. “But I hate disappearing tricks the most.” 

“Oh?” The old man was confused, clearly missing the memo. “Why so—?” 

“Good morning, sir, can I take your order?” A voice pricked into Hakuba’s memory, triggering some sort of mechanism. It was the same tone, frequency, wavelength— The only thing different was the dialect and accent. 

Saguru looked up right into Kaito’s violet eyes, the latter dressed in a waiter’s uniform. A soft smile spread over the magician’s lips as he winked, Hakuba’s jaw dropping as his gaze returned to the man in front of him. 

“Ah, a cappuccino please. And one slice of carrot cake.” 

“Of course.” Kaito nodded pleasantly. “Right away, sir. And you?” 

Hakuba took longer to find his voice than he would’ve liked. “Just a cup of black coffee, please.” 

“Is that all?” Kaito hummed, scribbling down the orders on a piece of paper. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

Hakuba laid back against the chair, a sigh slipping from his lips as he smiled continuing his conversation with the old man, who was still very much confused. 

“Ah, but I find disappearing tricks interesting,” The old man commented, chuckling slightly. “It’s always so magical when the reappearance happens, no?” 

The blonde detective hummed, watching the dark-haired magician busy himself inside the shop. “I suppose I’ll have to agree with that.” 

━━━━━━━

this thing has been sitting in my drafts for four months and its time for it to see the light of day~ 

So you guys are never going to guess what I just did.

I might possibly be writing a tww fic (FOR REAL THIS TIME I PROMISE) and I just finished the first little snippet so I thought I’d share that with y’all!

It’s going to be several chapters, each one from the POV of a different senior staff member, basically just a random collection of scenes where everyone Works Out their Issues. Official summary= The senior staff + Donna think about the past, how far they’ve come, heartbreak, hard times, sleep deprivation, and what family means to them over a ginormous bowl of popcorn.

(Part backstory headcanons, part character study, part found family, part random other shit?? I have no clue where this came from tbh. Anyway enjoy this rambly dumpster fire) (the popcorn is figurative)

Part one is Sam, and I’m sure none of you are surprised 😋 Enjoy!!!!

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When Samuel Norman Seaborn was a kid, ‘I want to be a lawyer when I grow up’ was one thought that didn’t cross his mind, not even once. Which is saying something, because little Sam had a lot of thoughts. He had opinions about everything, even things he didn’t understand (especially those) and he had ideas, big ideas that everyone said were going to change the world one day, and he had an imagination the size of the Chrysler building and not enough room in his head for all the stories he wanted to tell. Everyone liked Sam. He was easy to like. At least, until he got a little older and suddenly his imagination was distracting instead of endearing and his ideas were silly instead of helpful and the big books he liked to read were taking time away from more important things. It didn’t make sense to him, because he had always thought they were the most important things in the world, but one day when one too many teachers had commented on it and one too many other children had teased him for it, he sat himself down at his desk and told himself he wouldn’t be like that anymore. Sam decided he wouldn’t be the dreamy one with his head in the clouds anymore. He would be focused, and dedicated, the model student and son.

So somewhere in middle school, Sam Seaborn changed from the cheerful, somewhat dazed and forgetful child he had been into the most intensely focused little academic his teachers had ever seen. Focusing was usually...hard, for Sam. At least, focusing on the right thing. His mind wanted to go in so many different directions and think about so many different things, and none of them were what he should have been focusing on. But he found that if he worked really hard and forced himself to think about one specific thing, then he could usually achieve it. Homework and such wasn’t exactly what he was passionate about, but it was what his parents wanted, and what everyone else around him seemed to want, so he did his best.

He worked hard through high school and when he graduated, he got accepted to Princeton. Sam loved Princeton. He loved everything about it. He started working hard because he liked it, and not because he thought other people wanted him to. He worked towards his law degree, and he got it.

(He never did stop writing, though. It was like a disease. No matter where he was or what he should have been doing, he could never make himself not write.)

There was a bit of a gray area after that, and more than one bad decision, but then he got the job at Gage-Whitney. And Gage-Whitney was...well. He was good at it. It paid well. He kept working his way up the ladder until he made partner, and wasn’t that everyone’s dream? Shouldn’t he love his job? Maybe he should have. He didn’t.

Then there was Lisa, and he couldn’t decide if she had been a mistake or not. He had liked her an awful lot; even loved her. She had been quite fond of him too. It had been real. Once. He remembered nice dinners and radiant smiles and the joy of having a partner who was as smart as you.

God, what happened to us? He’d think sometimes, but it was stupid, because he knew exactly what had happened to them. Sam had quit his job and gone running off to New Hampshire with Joshua Lyman. He’d tried to build a presidential campaign from scratch, then actually managed to accomplish it, which was somehow even worse for their relationship because then he was zipping all over the country without a minute to spare and he told himself he called whenever he could but it wasn’t enough and he knew it. Whenever they did get to see each other, there was a...distance, that there never had been before. Eventually Lisa would say something passive aggressive about how apparently Josh Lyman meant more to him than she did, and Sam would get defensive and mutter something about how he never complained when she always went off to fancy bars with her fancy friends every other night, and she would bark out an incredulous laugh because of course he would find a way to insult her friends when he was the one who had left her in the dust, because wasn’t that just the kind of person he was!

It hurt even more because they cared, they both cared. A lot. But in the end, it didn’t matter, because Sam chose the campaign and she chose to stay and there was nothing they could say to change each other’s minds. Her eyes had gotten big and wet and angry, and he had been numb, staring out at nothing. That was the night she gave him back the ring.

But he tried not to think about it too much now. It was a sure-fire way to ruin his day. Or week, more likely.

“Did you know that supposedly the shortest telegram correspondence in history was between Victor Hugo and his literary agent?” he asked. He was sitting at one of the desks in the bullpen, hunched over some files that he really didn’t want to read. It was one of those days, where there was a lot to do but a lot of time to do it, so you ended up doing anything but what you were supposed to do. One of those days that felt lazy and slow when it shouldn’t have been.

Josh was leaning against an office door frame across from him. “Really.”

“Yeah.” he flipped through some of the papers absently. “To ask how the book sales were doing he just sent a question mark. The guy sent back an exclamation point. And all I’m saying is if Victor Hugo himself could restrain his verbosity like that, then just maybe the guys writing these files could-” he paused as Josh wandered over, resting his forehead against the back of Sam’s head and wrapping an arm around him from behind. “What?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Josh chuckled. “You’re just a huge dork.”

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “Just part of my charm, I guess.”

“In that case, you are extremely charming.”

“Ha ha.” Sam looked over as Josh slid into the desk chair next to him. “Hey, did CJ say how the briefing went? I was on the Hill all morning.”

Josh shrugged. “It was fine. They were all just asking about whether Jancowitz was going to sink the healthcare bill with his insistence on antagonizing what’s-his-name at the DOD.”

“Ah. Should we send someone to smooth that over?”

“Yeah, you can put Ainsley on it. I’m not too worried.” A problem for another day, then. Josh leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk in front of him. “It’s supposed to keep snowing all night.”

“They said that the last two times it snowed.”

“I think they’re right this time!” Josh protested, tapping the side of his head. “It’s my flawless intuition as an outdoorsman.”

Sam laughed. “At this rate, we could put you on the Weather Channel. You’d be just as accurate as all of those guys.”

“Mmm. With their track record, I could be their boss by next Tuesday.” He squinted at something for a minute before hopping up. “Well, I should probably go work on my thing before Leo has an aneurysm. I’ll come see you later about the environment?”

“Yeah, see you.” He sighed, staring down at the papers while Josh went back to his office. After a minute, he just shook his head and stood up, gathering them in his hands and retreating into his own office. Sam unceremoniously dumped the files onto a shelf, settling into his desk chair. They could be read another day.

Straightening his glasses, he popped open his laptop on the desk in front of him. He tried typing out some remarks for the President’s conference next week, but didn’t get very far. He wandered over to his email, and replied to a few people who had asked him questions.

I should write my dad, he thought absently. It had been a while since his last email. The thing was, thinking about his father in any capacity was Sure-fire Way To Ruin His Week Number Two.

It was...complicated. Sam had never had the best relationship with either of his parents to begin with. They had always been busy, and now he was always busy, and he supposed that it was possible he had lost far too many important things in his life due to people being busy. It didn’t even sound like a good excuse.

His mother was a brilliant, industrious woman who had grown up poor and worked so hard to get their little family off the ground that there was little else left of her now. At least, that was how he’d always felt. She’d always been so caught up in working to secure his future, and seemed to not have time for him in the meantime. Oh, she had tried, but she was always on a phone call or an extra shift and so it had usually just been him and his dad at the house when he was little.

It made his blood boil to think about it too long. Sam had never been close with his mother, but she had worked so hard and given up so much to keep them afloat. And this was how his father had repaid her? By...by...he couldn’t even put it into words. Learning about his father’s mistress had shook him to his core, and hadn’t stopped shaking it since.

Family had never been a very comforting concept to Sam, and after that particular revelation, even the romanticized ideal of it had come crumbling down around him. Family wasn’t supposed to be built on lies and absence and forced smiles. It was supposed to be solid and warm and loving, not shaky and volatile and brimming with hurt.

He could feel his heart clenching with anger and bitterness and grief over what-could-have-beens, and Sam hated being that person. Instead, he stared at the blank white void of the email draft in front of him, forcing himself to breathe deep. What are the others doing right now? he asked himself, his mind latching onto a distraction. Josh was probably working himself up over the environment issue- that, or getting lovingly screamed at by Leo. CJ had just finished a briefing, and was probably high-fiving Carol or bickering with Danny. Toby was most likely scribbling notes for the energy conference, half of which would be crumpled up in the wastebasket by now. Or on fire. Sam smiled to himself, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Hey,” came a cheery voice, and Sam looked up to find Donna in the doorway with a file tucked under her arm. “Any important government business going on in here?”

“Absolutely not,” he assured her, leaning back in his chair. “You need me for something?”

“Nothing pressing,” she replied with a shrug, brushing forward and hopping on top of his desk like she always did. “Toby and Josh are in CJ’s office watching the game if you want to join. ”

“Don’t they have work to do?” he mumbled petulantly.

“I really wouldn’t know,” Donna said with exaggerated innocence. She smirked at him. “But you look so sad and lonely in here, the least I could do was extend the invitation.”

“Hush, you,” Sam lamented, stretching absently. He looked down at his laptop and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I really should be working.”

“So should everyone else,” Donna pointed out. She slid off the desk and crossed her arms, giving him a look. “Sam? Hey, are you feeling okay? You look a little…”

Sam frowned, looking down at himself. “Disheveled?” he suggested, noting his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.

“Ah,” she said with a nod. “That’s the word I was looking for. But, hey, are you really alright?” She leaned down to rub his shoulder. “You seem gloomy.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sighing. “Just a long day, I guess.”

Donna raised her eyebrows. “And do you know what the perfect antidote for a long day is?”

“Watching the game with Josh and Toby and CJ?” he guessed.

“Exactly!” Donna smiled, bonking him on the head with her file. “See you in five?”

Sam looked back at his email, thinking. If he mustered up the sheer willpower to write to his dad, he would have no idea what to say. And it wasn’t like his relatives in California were truly family, anyway. Not if all he associated with them were pain and disappointment. Maybe he could leave this email for later. Maybe he could watch football with his friends and chuckle at Toby and Josh shouting at the TV and rib CJ when she didn’t understand anything that was happening and forget about all of it, for a little while.

“Yeah,” Sam said, closing the lid to his computer. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Lita's legacy, part 5!! @brightlotusmoon @scentedcandlecryptid

Mondo was heated with rage he had no idea how to express. Never before in his time as a human or a mutant had he felt any emotions near as intensely than he felt anger now. His skin felt hot, his stomach felt sick, and he felt like crying. But Lita was there still holding his hand and she was watching him intently, so he had to put on a smile while he got her to someplace safe and protected; as usual, it was on a rooftop.

“Lita, I need you to stay here while I go find a payphone or something.”

Lita frowned. “Why didn't you just use that other mutant's phone?”

Mondo blanked. Sure, he could say that he had been so mad that the thought hadn’t occurred to him, and he could admit his mistake and go back to ask to use an actual phone. Or he could find a payphone and pray to whatever higher beings there were for it to still work. He looked to the streets.

“He uh. Didn't have one. Stay here!”

Mondo gave Lita one last, comforting pat before jumping from the roof and landing with a painful crash in the dumpster below. “Ow.”

“Why didn't you use the ladder?” Lita called down, pointing to the fire escape.

“I have a technique!” Mondo grunted as he forced himself out of the dumpster and to his feet, risking a quick glance around both corners of the alley before falling to all fours and running across the street as fast as his starved body could carry him. He scrambled into the phone box, pulled a loose quarter from his pocket—he kept a bunch of change, just in case he could ever find anything worth buying— and pressed it into the slot. He hoped that was how it worked, like it did in the old movies he watched. He took Repo Mantis’ card from his pocket and, in quick glances between the card and the buttons, he dialed the number and held the phone up to his ear. He heard strange, beeping noises, and hoped that was a good thing.

“You are conversing with Donatello!” Came a confident, bold voice joined with the strange sound of clicking keys, “Are you friend, client, or evil brat come to ruin my day?”

“Suh dude! Uh.” Mondo Gecko cleared his throat and tried to sound professional. “Repo Mantis gave me this number.”

“I know a Repo Mantis.” Was the reply, and then a long pause.

“He… said you could help me?”

“Well, first, you can help me.” Donatello said, “What you need, kid? I got gadgets and gizmos aplenty and a brain that won’t let me sleep. Seriously. It’s been two days.”

Mondo stuttered. “Uh. That’s rough buddy. I… me and my friend tried to get a place in Repo Mantis’ junkyard.”

“Oo. Bad choice.” Donatello laughed, “Lot of crooks living in there, you know. That place is for the desperate and the destitute.”

“Um. I— guess I’m both.”

“Oh. Unfortunate.” He smacked his lips, “What can I do you for, mister desperate and destitute?”

“Repo wouldn’t let me and my friend stay in his junkyard because my friend, like, has this medical condition.”

“That doesn’t sound like Repo. He don’t discriminate by anything more than how much money you have in your pocket. What kind of condition does your friend have?”

“I’m uh… not like, entirely sure what it is, if I’m being completely honest.”

“Physical or mental?”

“Physical…”

“Any medicines she should be taking?”

“I— I don’t know…” Mondo hated not knowing the answers to the questions he was being asked, but what could he do? He had to answer honestly! He put in another quarter to give himself longer to talk.

“Mm. Current place of residence?”

“We… don’t really have one anymore.” Mondo admitted. “I told you— we were supposed to be going to Repo’s place.”

“Right, right. Name?”

“I am Mondo Tubular Gecko.” Mondo gave the sound of a strumming guitar out of habit before remembering what he was talking about. “And uh. My friend’s name is Lita.”

“No last name?”

“No.”

“Alright, Mondo Gecko.” Donatello cleared his throat, “Where are you currently?”

“Uh, lemme check!”

Mondo left the phone and ran out into the streets to check the nearby signs, then ran back and reported them to Donatello.

“Fan-freaking-tasking. You stay there with your friend, and I’ll be there in just a mo’ with a medic to give her a once-over and give the all-clear to our mantis friend. Don’t move.”

Mondo froze.

There was a pause before. “You can move away from the payphone, just don’t leave the area!”

“Oh, right on, right on. Wait. How’d you know I was on a payphone…?”

“I know and see everything. Tah tah!”

Mondo returned to the rooftop to wait with Lita. Only a few short minutes later, both of them were surrounded by three average-sized mutants and one giant, their muscles chiseled and defined by years of hard labor and faces that said they were in their early twenties, if that. Mondo Gecko tucked his tail between his legs and hugged it for support. He hadn’t been expecting so many to show up, but he couldn’t back out now.

“You the one who called?” Asked an unfamiliar voice from the brightest mutant in a blue bandana.

Mondo Gecko nodded slowly.

“Where uh. Where’s your friend?” The largest one gave what Mondo Gecko supposed was meant to be a comforting grin, but it came off as predatory and malicious.

“She’s right here. It’s okay Lita…” Mondo Gecko grabbed Lita by the arm and gently guided her out into the open.

“Aww.” The orange-spotted mutant cooed, “You’re so cute!”

Lita whined and pressed her carapace into the crook of Mondo Gecko’s arm for security. A purple-clad mutant split from the group and approached Lita, pulling goggles down over his eyes and scanning her with a red and blue light for a moment before he pulled the goggles up and his mouth fell open.

“Woah…” Just from the tone, Mondo immediately knew it was the one from the phone. He stood up, walking over to the blue-clad turtle and whispering something to him. Mondo strained to listen. “...major ectopia cordis, possible thoracic insufficiency. Pericardium is still intact. Also suffering from oculocutaneous albinism OCA1 and what appears to be second-degree burn scarring on her face and hands. Accompanied with her ectopia, it may allude to significant lung tissue damage.”

Lita looked down at the pink burns on her hands, and then back up as the purple and blue adorned turtles made their way over to her and Mondo with attempts at gentle, comforting smiles.

“Hey Lita…” The blue-dressed turtle kneeled and offered a hand to the albino turtle. “I’m Leonardo. Do you mind is I take a look at you…?”

Lita looked at Leonardo’s three fingered hands, then held out her own matching hands and looked down at them with a curious glint in her eyes. The new turtle was still smiling, his hand still outstretched. Lita accepted it and let herself be guided away from Mondo.

“I’m just gonna take a look at your heart and lungs, okay?” Leonardo asked, and when Lita nodded her consent, he took out a flashlight and shined it in the center of Lita’s chest, watching the beat of her heart with a soft curiosity. “Wow… okay, this might feel a little cold, but it’s going to help me hear your lungs, okay?”

Leonardo pulled out a device that Lita didn't recognize, letting her look it over for only a few seconds before bringing it to her chest to listen to her breathing. He kept the cold tool there for a moment before pulling away and walking back over to whisper to Donatello, who took quick notes of his brother's words. While they talked, Lita’s eyes couldn’t help but explore the sight of the other two mutant turtles that stood nearby. They were shoulder-to-shoulder with each other, staring at Lita and whispering softly in serious, curious voices. Lita felt unbelievably small compared to them.

“Lita.” Leonardo’s voice came again, “My brother here is going to take some measurements of his shell to see if he can’t get you fitted with something.”

Donatello stepped forward, standing unlike his kneeling brother, and addressed Lita like an equal. He pointed to the straps over his shoulder, “See this?” He turned around to show her his battle shell before turning back around to face her, “This is my battleshell— aka, my livelihood! Since there are no surgical options to help you with current technology, I am going to make you something just like this, except on your plastron instead of your carapace. It will cover your heart, so you aren’t just… hanging out there and give you additional protection against brunt force trauma.”

As Donatello continued to rant, he finally kneeled, but not to address her face to face; he started to measure the area of her plastron with careful, calculated measurements while metal arms coming from his battle shell scribbled down the notes he needed.

“I can design it to grow with you, but you will have to come back every two years to get a replacement fitting, so it doesn’t get too worn down and become structurally unsound.” He finished his measurements and stood back up, “We can arrange a meeting in two months to get you suited with your brand-new plastron. How’s that sound?”

“Good.” Lita squeaked softly.

“Do you guys have anywhere to go until then?” The biggest brother asked in the softest voice.

Mondo came back over and wrapped a thin, lanky arm around Lita and gave her a comforting squeeze. “Um… we can go back to the vent I guess.”

All four turtles immediately shook their head and voiced their disagreement.

“No.” The red brother insisted, “No— we ain’t letting you leave here until you have a safe, comfortable place to stay! Like our place!”

“Yeah!” The orange-spotted turtle chirped, “You guys can have my room!”

“And it would be better able to keep an eye on her condition.” Leonardo added, walking up behind the two of them and wrapping supportive arms around the two children. “Trust me, niño y niña! You’ll love it at our place!”

“Think dad’ll let them stay?” The orange turtle chirped.

“You kidding? Dad would never turn away a couple’a kids!” Leonardo declared, “You can stay with us until we get you decked out someplace nice! How’s that sound?”

Lita smiled softly. “It sounds amazing!”

~~~

Two hundred years passed since that day, but Lita remembered it so clearly. She was sure she would be able to find her way around the past city even without the aid of Donatello’s maps, but still he insisted on her having one. She didn't think it was important enough to argue— it was only a day trip. Just get the egg and get out. She didn't know why her friends were all acting so weird about it though; she had gone on tons of missions into the past with the time scepter, and this one would be no different.

When she arrived in the city, the first thing she did was take a long, deep breath of the clean city air. Clean, at least, compared to what she had grown used to. She couldn’t spend long enjoying it, though. Tokka needed to be brought back home. Though she was reluctant to admit it, Donatello’s map had indeed helped her just as he said it would. Squeezing herself into the sewer was harder than she would care to admit, but she made it work. Then she had to swim, which was of little concern seeing as she was built to be aquatic.

She emerged in a place that sparked an odd memory and made her heart give a strong pang. She knew this place— and she knew those two creatures staring back at her as they held her little Tokka.

“Holy shell…”

Jake Reviews Stuff: Star Vs: Friendenemies

Happy pride all. I’m getting ahead of this one for a number of reasons:  1) It’s pride month and this episode is one of the most shiptastic things i’ve seen with two male characters since Robochris from bravest warriors. I mean it dosen’t quite reach “Creating a skull robot of your best friend because he won’t touch you a lot to make him jealous enough to do that” levels of romantic tension but it tries. 

2) My good friend @jess-the-vampire​ is a tomco shipper, and with things being rough for her I figure she could use this sooner rather than later. 3) Shows are actually coming back with Amphibia emerging from it’s year long odinsleep the same week Close Enough finally escapes from it’s dumpster after 10,000 years to conquer earth before it gets put back in there then escapes again and marries lord zedd.. I lost the metaphor the point is I want to keep Tom train, and other star arcs I have planned, moving at a steady clip. 

So with all of that yeah, i’m ready to go. No real exposition to dump again, come on let’s go after the cut!

We open with Marco at his laptop nervous about something and Star coming into his room tangled in christmas lights... so normal day at Casa Diaz.  Anyways Marco can’t help star out of her latest self made prison because he’s preording tickets to a Mackie Hand Film Festival. Mackie Hand is Marco’s faviorite martial artist and movie star, who died performing a stunt on himself.. accidentally.. did he give himself a death punch? Is this the same universe as regular show.. please say yes.  Anyway as is natural for Marco in the first two seasons as god apparently hates him, the tickets sell out instantly and he dosen’t get them, banging his head against his laptop as Star TRIES to comfort him , saying he might still be able to get them. Marco also says “Good things don’t happen to me”

I mean just look at Season 3. Anyways tom comes in licking a rainbow snowcone for no explained reason other than they wanted to make it obvious this was the Tomco episode. Tom asks to hang out and after Star, understandably at this point given you know, the horrible date where he tried to murder her best friend and the gaslighting a few weeks back, tells him a million times no, Tom explains he’s not here for her.. he’s here for Marco. Marco, given tom’s threatned to kill him twice now and tried to at least once, isn’t biting. Tom naturally has tickets to the festival as a trump card, and assumes that time he kidnapped marco and played him in ping pong for his freedom counts as a friend hang out, and geuinely apologizes for his behavior promising not to get angry. Really while as you probalby know we DO get the reveal later he was partly doing this whole thing to finish his anger managment... I do get the sense this apology, and a lot of this is GENUINE. We’ll get more into the why in a bit, but he does seem to genuinely want to bury the hatchet.  Marco pulls star aside and, given the last two times he saw Tom, the boy had some horrible scheme up his ripped sleeves, he understandably, and as it turns out correctly, thinks Tom is once again up to some sort of scheme, star is fully on board. I have. mixed feelings about this. On the one hand STar did forgive tom for the previous episodes mess and Ponyhead for much worse and it does set up the tiny plot curnel of corn that would grow into an entire corn field of her still having some friendly feelings toward tom. But it just feels weird, even with how cahotic star can be to have her flip flop from “Stop calling me” To “You should totlaly go on a date with the guy who harassed me and tried to kill you twice now. “. Especially since next time she has an episode with Tom, She’s fully resentful of him and a bit snarky and spends and episode, in part thanks to aformentioned magical severed ponyhead, suspicious of him playing games with her head again. We’ll get there soon obviously, i’m just saying it feels mildly off. 

So Marco decides, much like bart simpson that getting where he’s going’s worth it even if he has to ride with the devil himself and reluctantly agrees. We see the inside of Tom’s carriage for the first time, and see my good personal friend dead horse again on the outside, and it’s really nice.. lit by torches because mood lighting, but similar to his room it’s plushly decorated and even has two serious speakers and according to Tom 6 flatscreens. Damn I wish I had one of those.. that and I wouldn’t have to drive since I can’t due to my anxiety. Plus who wouldn’t want a firey horse skelton sidekick? Anyways Tom offers Marco cold cereal and Marco is frank with tom, pointing out he’s suddenly being nice to Marco after never being nice to him before and understandably isn’t sure he’s even a mackie hand fan but a bit of banter and trivia shows Marco that no, Tom really seems to be telling the truth.  Tom then confides in marco that he gets why Marco didn’t belivie him: Most people dont’ get past their preconcived perceptions of him. And here the series does flesh tom out a bit: Tom admits to not having many friends.. which frames the previous two episodes in a diffrent light. Sure his actions to Star are still very much not okay... but you at least see WHY he was so obessive about her: She was probably the first real friend he had that wasn’t a casual aquantince, his own family member, or a pet. Most Mewman kids his age probably weren’t too keen to hang out with what to them was a monster, rich or not, little raicst shits. And in the underworld most people probably just did whatever he asked because they were afraid of his temper or his parents fury, even if his parents are the nicest people in the underworld. So when he lost her, Tom didn’t know how to properly react and while his first attempt to win star back was genuine, it was marred by his refusal to adress his anger or control issues that likely lead to Star dumping him in the first place. While Star’s forgivness HERE is a bit werid, her willingness to give him another shot wasn’t: Tom was SEEMINGLY genuinely trying. He was in therapy, he’d been anger free for several days and most glowingly, when a stranger karate chopped his hand off in a misguided attempt to protect star.. he got upset but instnatlly went into his coping mechanisms.  The problem was as I covered in that review.. Tom didn’t WANT to change. That’s the thing about changing: you need to both know there is a problem and WANT to fix it. And even then, as we’ll see sometimes i’ts hard. I know, i’ve had my own personal issues i’ve had to change up as years went on. It’s a slippery slope you have to constnatly climb up. And BMB era tom.. just didn’t WANT to change he just wanted to do what he thought star wanted that would get her to take him back, and couldn’t understnad why she wouldn’t just listen to him and obey, two things not in star’s vocabulary for anyone much less her ex. 

So , much like I did, rather than blame himself for screwing things up, he just saw it as Marco being in the way and tried to fix that. And so he sunk to rock bottom.. but it didn’t fix their relationship and it took Marco having an honest conversation, as someone who was also very close to her and knew her well, to get him to see that Star wasn’t going to take him back unless she wanted it.. what he was doing was selfish and self destructive.. and Tom probably realized in that moment he had to stop. He let her go, and thus as I put al ot of emphasis on last time, made his first step to being better.  And to me that’s why this makes sense as his next step: While it’s partly to fufill a checklist... you get the sense he really DOES like marco on some level. They hung out, which I do feel tom did genuinely feel was like friends hanging out instead of you know the second highest stakes game of ping pong i’ve ever seen. 

The first if your curious. So while part of this is Tom just wanting to get through anger managment for likely his parent’s sake, part of it is also him genuinely wanting to be somebody’s buddy, anybody but a bumbling butler. It’s just being Tom, he dosen’t know HOW to make friends or get them to see past who he is surface wise; a spoiled angry boy and see the inside, a nice kid who just has no idea how to talk to people beyond a surface level or understand them and we’ll see that more both in this episode and as we go. Speaking of going back in the episode proper, two bros drive up and insult Tom’s carriage also wondering if he’s going to his grandpa’s funeral. Fuck you both.. both on general principal and becaause his grandpapapapapapaaaaaaaaaaaa is alive and magnificent. 

Satan bless you Relicor. Anyways, Tom is naturally pissed at this and Marco challenges them to a race.. but eases tom off actually following them as, since this isn’t a fast and the furious movie, the police immidelty arest them and we get the blessed image above. Let’s see that again.

NOGODWHY

Not right but it’ll have to do I fear what may happen if I try again.  ONE BALLON DICK GIRAFFE LATER, our boys are on a high, as Tom finds there are things more fun than obletarating people. #tomhaskilledmultiplepeopleandisstillthebestboy. Marco is reminded of a song from his faviorite band Love Sentence, and Tom, suprisingy given his My Chemical Romance with a splash of metal astetic, is not only a huge fan but has a giant Helga Patiaki esque shrine to them complete with a cd player with shuffle. Fancy. 

We then get a wonderful, shiptastic montage of the two just hanging out, hanging out with a white tiger. Having themselves a party. And given the song itself, sung by 98 Degrees and horrible realtiy show Newleywed’s alumnus Nick Lachey, even says “we used to be enimies but now we have chemistry” yeah I think this is intentional and they are a good ship. Are they my prefered ships for the characters? No tha’ts kelly and flame princess... the last one was recent and I love a good crossover ship sue me. But I do headcanon both as still Bi and still find the ship great, it’s just not my main one. 

However the good times can’t last as it is film time... but Tom refuses to let marco leave befor eblowing his top off... dude that’s not how you build a suppportive relationship, you know this by now. Turns out the white tiger I haven’t mentioned to now is actually Brian, vocied my boy Stephen Root who apparently just.. lives at DIsney’s animation studios now as he has a tendency to show up in every other animated disney show. You may know him from Gravity Falls as Bud Gleeful, THe Mayor from Amphibia, or , in non disney voice work, Bill Dautrive. Turns out as I haven’t even tried to hide, Tom was in the final stage of his anger managment class and to get out of it had had to spend 3 hours with the person he hated most. As I said I do think part of it was GENUINE on tom’s part, that he was trying to be what he thought friends were... it’s just he didn’t get that Marco, if grumblinignly, probably STILL would’ve agreed if he were honest.  However.. it’s still a step up. While i’ts still a scheme, and his LAST on the show.. it’s more benign after the last two; Instead of being harmful his scheme this time is just “Bribe my worst enemy into hanging out with me and get out of anger managment” it’s still not quite right, but compared to the things he’s done with star, it’s an improvment and a sign he is changing despite himself. He could’ve just kidnapped marco again and forced him to spend the three hours.. granted this might’ve just been Brian saying, obviously no tha tdosen’t count, but still, instead he tried being nice and giving an apology. Even if it was for personal gain on some level, Marco’s words clearly got to him and he’s now trying genuinely unselfish tactics. It’s also notable since he spent the three hours with marco, and at least half an hour of awkarndess before it got all fun, WITHOUT getting angry or falling back on old stratgies and only beefing it at the end because, as i’ve established, he dosen’t get people.  So naturally tom gets mad.. while it is a sign he’s getting better he dosen’t do his trademark horrifying demonic EXPLOSION of rage... he’s still being petulant and sore over his failure is mad at marco for pritoritzing the tickets nad destroys them. Marco naturally calls him out, angry over him manipulating him to get some badge , as he puts it, calls him a jerk and a liar, accurate and the worst part to marco? “I WAS DUMB ENOUGH TO FALL FOR IT”

Credit where it’s due while I may not LIKE adam mcarthur as a person...as a voice actor he is excellent and his delivery here is perfect as you do get the pain in Marco’s voice as he genuinely ahd grown to care for tom. Wethere it was friendship or wanting to make out... probably wanting to make out, you get the pain in his voice. Tom admits the love sentence hting wasn’t a lie.. but too little too late.. whcih is marco’s second faviorite love sentence song and leads to another moment of shippy goodness. Seriously I see why this ship exploded in popularity after this. Also I will say both Adam and Rider have damn pretty voices.  So Tom does what any romantic lead faced with a third act breakup would do.. say a demonic chant and bring Mackie Hand back from the dead. This is also the first time we see just how fucking powerful tom is. Before we’ve seen him summon his carriage and immolate some stuff and easily reattach a hand.. but this is the first time that we see he’s every pit as powerful as star, who probably could raise the dead she just dosen’t want to. Granted I don’t know why this sort of undead stuff hasn’t been used on say, Moons assitnated mother, but presumibly anti-monster stigma combined with the fact that we don’t know HOW she died or how much was left, and are probably better off that way solve that. It goes a long way to explain why Tom’s family are allies instead of the conquered like most monsters: They have equal , if far diffrent and spookier, magic power and are the only kingdom with this trump card besides the butterfly kingdom. 

So as we close Marco tries to use Mackie to get in, the usher dosen’t buy it and a fight insues, but Marco and Tom patch things up, Tom becoming a fan of Mackie now he’s seen what the guy can do and Marco forgiving tom since, evne if his actions were still a bit greasy, he immidetly did his best to try and fix what he broke. The two are friends again despite them both saying they hate each other... but they clearly mean it playfully. The End.  Final Thoughts: After the Slog that was last episode this one is a fan faviorite for a reason... well okay 2 reasons. One...

And two.. it’s excellent. I feel bad it took me years to see this one, but it’s one of season 2′s finest. It’s funny, has great character stuff for both boys, introduces a new ship that’s fantastic and a great new dynamic between Tom and Marco that would carry for the rest of the show. It also beliviebly advances Tom’s character arc: He’s TRYING a bit but he’s still got a bit of the scheming and selfishness that defined his earlier outings, but it’s telling that after this episode, and hurting marco, he stops. This episode REALLY gets him to change that and for the better.  Sadly Tom would only make one more apperance this season in Naysaya, an episode I will cover when I cover Jackie and Marco at some point, but has him show up for a cameo when it turns out the episodes antagonist, a curse that takes the form of a sentient head that spills the target’s worst secrets and insecurities when they try to ask someone they like out, is Tom’s fault from back when he was a baddie, and Tom genuinely apologizes and tells him how to vanquish it, if ribs marco a bit since he cast that curse presumibly sometime between BMB and MCC and is delighed and suprised that Marco seriously hadn’t asked anyone out in that time. But it’s a nice bit that shows their not only still friends but Tom is genuinely sorry for some of his earlier behavior. We’ll see more of that as we go and more of tom trying to be better.. he’s made up with Marco, next time we come back to tomtrospective, we’ll see how it goes with Star. 

Coming up besides the obvious, as Pride Winds down I’ll have my first steven unvierse coverage, one of the first openly gay couples in western animation, and some asexula pride as we take our first look at Bojack Horseman..’s loveable rommate todd. Until we meet again, stay safe, black lives matter and later days. 

just another little soft blurby thing 

Sweet Dreams

January 2021

Edward wakes up at some ungodly hour of the night and rolls over in bed. He tries to ignore the thirst in his throat, but it’s a hard battle. He focuses on the rhythmic breathing of Calvin and for a moment, it works, until he remembers that he’s thirsty. He comes to regret the popcorn they’d shared while watching a movie earlier and he debates getting out of bed to get some water. The problem is that he’s quite comfortable, but despite his valiant efforts to go back to sleep, he finds that he can’t.

It’s then that he realises the absence of a second presence in bed and that Étienne doesn’t seem to be there. In fact, even Mercury doesn’t seem to be curled up by her master’s feet. He reaches over for the space beside him to confirm, but the spot there is very much empty and equally cold, which means Étienne has been out of bed for quite some time.

It’s finally what pushes him to get out and investigate. He throws Calvin an envious look and wishes he too could sleep blissfully unaware, before he pads out of the room and towards the kitchen first, to get some water, before he goes off searching for Étienne.

He luckily doesn’t have very far to look, once he eliminates the living room as an option. Instead, he heads towards the guestroom and sure enough, the bedside lamp is on and the light spills out into the hallway. He knocks on the open door to announce his presence and both Mercury and Étienne look up in the direction of the intrusion. Neither of them moves, but Mercury bothers herself to wag her tail in greeting.

“There you are,” He says and steps inside the room after Étienne nods his head, “Everything okay?” This, by far, is one of the warmest rooms of the house when Étienne is in it, if only for the fact that Étienne always has the heating on just a couple of degrees warmer than he would normally have it. But, he lets Étienne fix the thermostat as he wants to, knowing that Étienne prefers it warmer. The last thing he wants is for his boyfriend to be even more miserable.

From the looks of it, everything does seem fine. Étienne is sitting up in bed, book in hand, ensconced in his usual pile of blankets. However, the fact remains that Étienne hadn’t been in bed with him, occupying his usual spot, and that could mean a myriad of different things.

Étienne nods and pulls the covers beside him as an invitation for Edward to step into the room and join him. “Couldn’t sleep,” He says and then shrugs, “Didn’t want to wake you or Calvin with all my tossing and turning so I exiled myself here.”

Edward does wonder if there isn’t something bothering him – if his insomnia isn’t related to something troubling him, but he decides to give Étienne the benefit of the doubt and to believe that he really couldn’t sleep for no other reason. After all, it’s not as if it never happens, unfortunately. They’re at a point now where they – talk about these things and he feels that Étienne would tell him if there really was something bothering him – that, or there would be bigger signs that he’d be able to notice even if his boyfriend wouldn’t share. Still, he walks over to the bed, settles in, and can’t help but chuckle when Étienne pulls some of the blankets away, knowing that he doesn’t like or need as many.

It’s nearly automatic, but Étienne snuggles up to him and leans his head on his chest. Edward holds him close and wraps an arm around his shoulders. He starts playing with his curls out of habit and he feels Étienne sag against him and let out a content little sigh.

Mercury loses interest in him fast enough and puts her head back down; settling in against Étienne’s legs and the pile of blankets. He thinks she might already be asleep again and Edward wishes his boyfriend could have that luck. Still, if he knows Étienne, he knows that eventually, if nothing really is bothering him and if he keeps playing with his hair or rubbing his back, he too shall fall asleep within a bit.

‘You know you don’t have to say,” Étienne tells him after a lapsed moment of silence, “S’not the first time I can’t sleep.”

Edward ignores him and presses a soft kiss to the top of his head, “Misery loves company, as they say.”

He’s not sure who’s supposed to be misery and company in his example, but it makes Étienne snort and shake his head, which feels more as though he’s rubbed his head against his chest, so he doesn’t think too much about it.

“I won’t complain though,” Étienne settles for. There’s a soft smile tugging at his face as he settles back down and Edward lets him be, content in having him close.

They fall quiet after that and really, there is no need for conversation this late into the night or at this particular moment. Edward gets lost in his thoughts as he keeps combing his fingers through Étienne’s curls, navigating them through each loop and coil. This, he thinks, is nice and he’s thankful that he gets this opportunity to mend things over with Étienne and start afresh once more. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the fact that he and Étienne get to figure out their own romantic relationship, while he gets to pursue his own relationship with Calvin, but he won’t complain. It’s also strange, he thinks, that even though everything else around him seems to be a dumpster fire – even though everything else in the world seems to be going wrong, this, at least, is going oh so right.

Again, he won’t question it, but it does make for some interesting late night retrospective thinking as he twirls strands of Étienne’s hair around his fingers, until sure enough, he feels his boyfriend grow heavy against him as his breathing evens out.

Edward marvels at the fact that despite his sleeping problems, Étienne somehow manages to fall asleep in the most unlikely of places and positions, but he supposes he can at least have that. He does his best not to rouse him as he delicately reaches over to shut the bedside lamp and then settles in for sleep as well.

 FIN

Reports and Repertoire Pt. 4

Characters: Eddie Brock x Candace Miller (OFC)

Word Count:  6700+

Summary: *NSFW* Candy and Eddie's hard work pays off, but not without a close call first. They go back to her place to celebrate a job well done with whiskey.Candy decides the rule of not sleeping with people she works with no longer applies.

Warnings/Tags: Language.Fluffy, Smutty. Descriptions of police brutality and violence. Drinking. Explicit Sexual Content. Touch of Dirty Talk. Dominant Candy. 

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist.

It'd been hours of holding their breath every time a cop car would come into their line of vision. They were hunkered down in an alleyway covered by a line of thick bushes and boxes that ran the length of a brick-walled building that made up one side of the camp. Candace had her camcorder tight in her hand, strapped to her wrist. She stands at the corner of the wall under the cover of night and a broken street light on top of a crate to give her a vantage point. When a cop car rolls by and slows on the street that ran the width of the camp, she reaches back and smacks at Eddie to get his attention. He peels around the corner, both looking much like a Scooby Doo sketch with their heads right under the other, her torso over his head and shoulders as they press themselves against the wall.

"This might be it." she whispers, looking down to meet Eddie's face before she takes out the camcorder to engage it. He only gives a nod in response.

The scenario plays out as it should. The cops with their nightsticks strut around the camp, knocking things over nonchalantly and in general being total dicks. Candace keeps her breathing steady, holding the camera up to catch it all. They find two men to isolate, neither of which they knew, but Eddie feels that pang of guilt again as they get shoved together by the two policemen. They antagonize them, one getting hit about the face first, then shoved at each other again, the uniformed men barking illegal orders to figure out which one gets taken in for public intoxication and indecency, neither of which were true.

"I'm gonna get closer." Candace whispers, moving slowly along the wall behind the brush and various garbage. Eddie slinks behind her, not willing to let her out of reach.

The perfect shot is just out of reach it seemed, no matter how much she crept, she lines up the angles in thirds, the cops lit with an overhead light, the men fought reluctantly in front of them as they laughed and egged them on.

"Candy." Eddie whispers, holding her elbow as she kept creeping closer and he was starting to get nervous.

"I got it," she says, confident as always. "I have to get their faces." she informs, the zoom making the shot too shaky and blurred, she had to get to this final piece and it needed to be perfect.

She crept up the edge of the wall and brush, Eddie behind a pile of boxes, her hunched and shooting through a large, dead bush, the cover of night and the black hoodies they wore pulled over their heads their main ally at this point. One man hits the ground and doesn't get up. The scene was hard to watch, Eddie had turned his head away already, the sounds were bad enough. He kept his eye on Candy instead, one hand out and ready to grab her if she stumbled. She had the shot, it even looked good, not merely capturing the events but looking almost cinematic. Her heart was already pounding in her ears, she could taste the end of this endeavor being near.

One cop drags the man to the car, cuffing and opening the door to roughly shove him in. The other takes a last look out at the perimeter, and just as she's about to look down at the screen again, the dead battery light flashes, a beeping noise of warning comes from the camera and she curses. The cops flashlight beams directly on her, eyes caught in the light with a hood up and camera pointed directly at them.

"Shit." Eddie says yanking her back immediately.

"HEY!" they hear from the cop as Eddie picks her up and shoves her in front of him, making their way back to the alley. "HEY COME BACK HERE!" they hear him louder and closer. As soon as their feet start hitting and running across the wet pavement of the alley again, they hear him break through the brush, seeing the spotlight of the flashlight moving haphazardly over the grimy walls, garbage cans, and broken fire escapes. She stumbles, hitting her knees and hips as she runs as fast as she can down the small space, Eddie just a breath behind her. They move towards the more populated areas, the cop still shouting behind them.

They move small lane to small street, bobbing, weaving and jumping over obstacles, both in tune and looking out for the other as they meet a well lit, populated street. Their feet are still hitting hard and fast when she's jerked by the wrist suddenly, then an arm around her ribs Eddie grabs her up and they spin fast into another alleyway before she can ask anything he has her shoved against a recessed part of a wall, just out of sight behind a large dumpster. His body is pressed against hers, her head turned towards the slight even though she couldn't see anything. His arm is between her back and the wall, his hand rests on her arm, holding it tightly as his heavy brow is lowered, mouth open and breathing hard as his eyes stay on the street.

They say nothing, only their breathing and the loud drip of something making noise in the small space. Even though it's not even a full minute, the moments drag on forever before he finally slumps, closing his eyes and letting out a noisy exhale.

"He kept going down the street." he whispers, before looking back up with wide eyes and an open mouth of exasperation.

She lets out a heavy breath, letting her forehead hit his chest, "Oh thank god." she almost whines. His arm moves from around her and to her head.

"You alright?" he asks, a genuinely concerned look on his face. "You hit a bunch of stuff back there." he says, looking her over. The gesture makes her give him a slightly dopey smile at the sweetness of it and the way his hands were so gentle.

"No, I'm... fine Eddie." her tone is quiet as their breathing slows. He looks down as she looks up, faces a little too close to go unnoticed by either of them.

"You sure?" he asks, chin dipping back. As her eyes move across his face, he feels his heart speed up again, as his do the same. The moment is heavy and drags on before she responds back.

"Yeah I'm sure." she whispers, eyes back to his. "Eddie?" her voice is still soft and he stutters slightly.

"Yeah?" his lip turns up in question, his face would've flushed if it hadn't already been from exertion.

"We uh...we need to get moving." she says with her eyes large and catching the light as they look up at him.

"Oh, shit. Yeah," he says with a shake of his head, trying to get it back on straight. He steps back and starts taking off his hoodie. "Gotta get rid of these." he says laying it the dumpster. They'd both planned ahead, or rather Candace had by buying cheap black hoodies to ditch in case this exact situation went down. She follows suit and does the same, letting her hair down that had been pulled back to make herself look like they were just out together as they walked down the street side by side.

"Let's grab something in here real quick and check the video." she suggests, tugging him by the hand into a Kebab joint.

They sit in a tiny seat together, his arm on the chair back behind her, leaning into each other as they focus on the small screen.

"We did it." a huge grin spreads across her face. She turns her head fast towards his. "We fuckin' did it Eddie." her voice almost a squeak, a sound he'd never heard come from her before.

"We did." he smiles back proudly, stubbly cheeks rising to make his eyes smaller in an adorable expression that's half confident and have in disbelief. A win for him, something he knew he'd wanted but didn't know how desperately he'd needed it until now.

"We have to celebrate." she says obviously.

"What d'ya got in mind?" he raises his chin, supporting the almost childlike excitement she had on display.

"Food and booze." she says with a chuckle, shutting the camera and standing.

"I like the way you think, Candy, I really do." he laughs, holding the door open for her as they walk out onto the street in the direction of the place they left his bike.

"I'm gonna use postmates, and get us some nice ass whiskey...and we'll order some good food, and we'll start putting this video together." her hands wring together, her eyes bright and a smile plastered on her face.

"Sounds like a good time."

"Oh it's gonna be." she grins, he could hear the happiness in her voice and it was contagious.

It's a few blocks to the bike and in that time the sweat on their bodies starts to cool and chill, and in only t-shirts he notices her shiver, rubbing her arms as they walk.

"I can help with that if you want?" he asks hesitantly.

"Hmmm?" she asks, turning her head while she chews on her bottom lip.

"You're cold." he says, moving to put his arm around her shoulders as they keep walking.

"Was cold." she says with a chuckle. "It's like fifty degrees out here, how are you so damn warm?" she says shifting her shoulders, her casual response to his offer once again eases any nerves he had around her.

He shrugs. "Your guess is as good as mine." They reach the bike and he pulls out a hoodie from one of the bags. "Here, take this." he says, tossing it to her as he grabs his helmet.

"No, you take it," she says handing it back. "All the wind will be hitting you while you drive." she takes the helmet he offers her. "I'll have it all blocked by you, plus I'll have my arms around a human space heater, I'll be fine." she laughs, putting on the helmet.

"You sure? Don't wanna get to your place and turn around to find you frozen on my bike." he jokes.

"A Candy-sicle." she almost snorts. "That sounds delicious." she tilts her head as if in thought. "And now I want something sweet," she says like it's a complaint and he grins and shakes his head at her good mood. He settles in on the bike with her sliding in behind him. "C'mon Brock." she says wrapping her arms around without hesitation, a total change from the first time she'd done it she recalls. "Let's take ourselves a victory lap." she proclaims, her chin resting on his shoulder. ----------- They crash on the couch together, deciding to order expensive whiskey and cheap food, a great combination. With high ball glasses, she pours a drink, and they both let themselves relax. They eat, they decide to put the work away, announcing it was finished for tonight and now was a time to celebrate the hard work together.

More drinks and less food as the night went on made them both drunk and a touch giggly. Candace loves his high pitched little laugh, the way his nose scrunches and his chin pushes back into his neck. With the veil of drunkenness coming over her, he looked more attractive than he ever had before. She thinks back to the day she came over and he was working out, feeling the warmth gather between her thighs. She watches him laid back, hand around his glass on the couch arm, his other lazily scratching his lower stomach, leaving his shirt up and slightly exposing the strip of skin that was currently distracting her.

She knew she'd get like this if she drank and she couldn't really bring herself to care. She also knows that the sweetheart sitting next to her wouldn't be trying to sleep with her and she sat and chewed her lip as to what she wanted to do. They were at that nice spot of drunk and happy, not over the edge and messy yet. If she didn't ask, if she didn't try, she'd be yelled at tomorrow by both Steph and herself. She pulled her legs onto the couch, turning herself to face him, inching closer.

"You okay over there Eddie?" she asks, as he looks just slightly melted, the creases around his mouth settled in heavy.

He swings his head towards her, "I'm great over here. How are you over there?" he grins.

She can't help but laugh, biting her lip in a bit of an obvious sign as to her mood. "I'm okay...rather be over there though."

He notices the look in her eyes, a new one that he hasn't seen. "Over here?" he asks innocently, putting his hand on his chest and she nods in response. "Oh are you...ya cold again or somethin'?" he suggests, raising his arm. "I got some to spare, y'know." the alcohol helps keep him loose and not get his hopes up before she made any glaringly obvious moves. He wasn't about to let his neglected sex drive ruin this by assuming anything just yet.

She slinks over without a word, "You looked a little sad." she says as she sighs and settles next to him, his arm behind her back with her knees pulled up, their faces at the same height.

"Nah," he shakes his head. "That's just my face." he lets out that raspy chuckle. "I always look like this."

"What? Cute?" she says in a teasing voice that makes him sputter out another laugh. She watches the lines in his forehead shift, the crows feet forming at the edges of his eyes under his heavy brows wondering how she'd been able to wait so long to make a move on a man as sweet and good looking as he was.

"Cute? You think I'm cute?" he turns his face to meet hers, his eyes were bright with amusement.

"Yeah." she states obviously, a slow-growing smile catches as she's watching his expressive face pass through being flattered and embarrassed. "Among other things." she looks away with a smirk, a single shrug of her shoulder makes his smile fall and his brows raise. Oh, that didn't sound so innocent, he realizes.

"Wh-Like what other things?" his voice drops, his accent coming out heavy.

She returns her eyes to his face, looking down his torso, a hand reaches up to touch the cowlick near the crown of his head as she speaks. "Like... smart. Funny. Sweet."

He lets out a nervous chuckle, suddenly very aware of his arm around her. "Aw, Candy you..." he shakes his head quickly, a quirky little smile on his lips. "You goin' hard on the praise there, huh?"

"I might've even drunk enough to admit how handsome you are." she says with a calm, cool, collected smile that is the opposite of his.

"You think I'm handsome? That is..." he nods fast. "That is much preferred to cute."

"You are handsome." she coos. "You're also...." she takes a deep inhale, her words coming out breathily in an exhale. "Do you know how sexy you are Eddie?" she asks with a tilt of her head.

Another nervous laugh, this one softer, his pulse quickened under her praise. He watches her lick her lips and he feels a groan grow in his chest. "You are... you're all those things too y'know." he offers.

"You think so?" her smile is much cockier as she takes another sip of whiskey.

"Yeah. Yeah I do." he gathers the courage to admit.

"You think I'm sexy?" she says more playfully, a wrinkle of her nose as she raises her chin.

"Well, yeah." his brows are high and his mouth hangs open slightly, nothing but honesty to be found in his expression. "I just didn't...y'know...we were workin'."

"I have a rule, you see..." she begins, taking another drink of whiskey before setting it down on the coffee table. "To not fuck people I work with."

"That's...that's smart." he nods in agreement.

"But we finished our job tonight didn't we?" her eyes swing up to his, bold and fearless.

"Yeah," he whispers, a few slow nods. She sees his Adam's apple bob up and down.

Her hand moves up his chest, lips pouted just slightly. "So what do you think I want to do now that we're finished working?" she says, leaning in teasingly close to his face before pulling back.

"I bet I could guess." he whispers.

His response hits her as very funny with his obvious but nervous tone and she starts laughing, burying her face in his shoulder and it cuts the tension, the seriousness that'd been building. He laughs because she is, not having heard this sound from her before.

"Oh, Eddie." she sighs out, hand moving to the side of his face, a half smile on her face, hiding how she wanted to swoon over how adorable he could be when he wasn't trying. "You're too charming for your own good." she says thumb stroking his cheek. He blushes at the words and she feels the hunger for him growing inside her. "Do you wanna fuck, Eddie?" she whispers just inches away from those big plush lips. "Because I wanna fuck you." she nods slowly, their eyes meet and she shifts her weight to face him more head-on. "So bad." she says in a breathy exhale.

He feels a shudder run through his body. "Yeah." he says without hesitation, exactly in the strong out way she wanted to hear it.

"Yeah?" she says with a sweet tone and a sexy smile that travels right down to his balls as she moves closer.

"So bad." he huffs out and she feels that cold tingly rush down her spine. The words are exhaled by him and taken into her mouth as she closes in for a kiss they've both been waiting for. Their eyes flutter shut, a noisy exhale, a slumping of posture that gives away how much they'd both wanted it. She feels the arm around her backs grip tighten, holding her close to his side. She moves her other hand to his face, gripping his stubbled jaw with both hands. He might've had the softest lips she'd ever kissed, she left any reservations behind as she fully indulged in him. His other arm shifts, reaching over to grab her thigh. His hands bring her closer to him, and she swings her leg over his lap, straddling him on the couch.

He lets out a soft moan as she starts to kiss him harshly, sucking and biting his lower lip as their breathing picked up and started to match each other. His hands timidly rest on her back, one hand moving to cup the back of her head on occasion as she raked her nails through his hair. She reaches down to around his torso, kisses trailing down his jaw to his neck, her hand exploring the broad expanse of lean muscle that tensed under her touch.

She broke the kiss, his head pulling forward and keeping to her lips as long as he could. He'd been in a trance at the feeling of being wanted, having someone touch and taste him so needfully again. It was something he knew he'd missed but hadn't realized how much. He hadn't stopped to think about having it again, not realistically, not when it wasn't with Anne. Shit, don't think about her, anything but her, he whined to himself. He squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment. But as he sees Candy's body stretch, taking off her shirt, those previous things that haunted him dissipated and his eyes were only for her.

She leans in, lips ghosting over his, hands pulling up his hoodie over his stomach, "I want you Eddie." she whispers and he lets out a groan. She tosses it onto the other end of the couch before dipping down to kiss him again. He lets himself get lost in the heat from her smooth skin under his hands, feeling her ribs shift under them as she put her whole body into kissing him, something he appreciated more than he could properly express. She sucks his lower lip into her mouth, a wet pop on release as she hums. "Let's take this to bed, baby." she whispers in his ears and his eyes roll back at the soft sound of her, the feel of her breath on the shell of his ear makes his foot want to twitch like a dog getting an itch scratched.

She stands, turning off the tv and the lamp, leaving them with just the neon lights from the signs on the streets burning through her thin curtains over the window next to her bed. She hums again, pulling him up by the front of his shirt, fisted in her hand. Walking backward the short distance to the bed, she gives him a wicked grin and shoves him back with both hands onto it. He watches her like a goddess, mouth slack and eyes half-lidded. She stands and looks him over, licking her lips and smiling before taking off her jeans, he watches with a hypnotic bob of his head. Tugging his shirt over his head quickly, she points behind him.

"Scoot up the bed, Eddie." she purrs, both of them love the way his name sounded coming out her mouth, especially when it dripped with need like she currently was. He does as he's told and quickly. She crawls up the bed, sitting on his hips, feeling even more drunk with the way he stared and licked his lips, hand hovering cautiously over her thighs. She takes off her bra, throwing it blindly, he bites his lip and lets out a small moan at the sight. She gently takes his wrists, placing his hands to her chest. His nostrils flare slightly at the sharp exhale before he cups gently and squeezes. She smiles through a bitten lip of her own before leaning down slowly, hands running up his soft but strong stomach to the broad expanse of his chest. As his hands move across her breasts, thumbs brushing with pressure across her nipples, she moans lightly in his ear and he lets out a noisy breath of appreciation.

She nibbles his earlobe, plants kisses to his neck. She bites and sucks on his shoulders, marked with tattoos she didn't know he had, licking and nibbling across his collarbones and nipples as he lets his arms go limp, one raising to push her hair back from her face. He looked so tough but he was so gentle and the juxtaposition was fueling her lust. As she sinks her teeth just slightly into the pink hardened nipples on his perfectly fuzzy chest. He moans, letting his head fall back and she shuts her eyes, letting them roll back and listen to the helpless whine in his voice that she was the cause of. She could feel him pressing against her ass as his hips twitched and he grew harder, licking her way with a long stroke up to his thick neck where she sucks before joining their lips again. Her hands move up his big arms, bringing them above his head.

With one hand she holds down his wrists, the other taking one of her breasts that hovered over his face, taking the sensitive peak and running it across his lips. His arms shift under her weight, his tongue peeking out to graze her nipple and he hears that low hum of approval from her. "Suck on my tits, babe." she whispers out, placing her other hand on top of the one on his wrists. He makes a hungry sound, a breathy chomp as those luscious lips of his get to work. "Good boy." she says, grinding her hips against his. His eyes flutter behind his lids, groaning into the soft skin that smelled sweet from her perfume. "Fuck." she sighs out, arching her back and taking away his toys, noticing how his tongue reached out as she pulled away. "More of that later." she coos, running her fingertips across his wet lips. "My mouth is impatient to get on you." she says with a mischievous grin.

"Ah, fuck." he groans, watching her crawl down his body, kissing her way to the top of his jeans. She smiles and laps below his belly button, hands wasting no time in undoing his pants. She gives him a tiny noisy bite, fingers hooking under both his layers before she yanks them off. Standing for a brief moment, she makes herself also completely naked before settling between his legs. Running her hands up his thick thighs she sucks on her bottom lip and moans.

"You're so fucking hot, Eddie." she growls, hands grabbing his hips. Randomly placed kisses adorn his stomach, hips, and thighs as she watches him greedily grow and twich. "And look at this cock." she praises, her lips ghosting over the leaking tip as she speaks.

"Fuck, Candy." he whines, his brow low but no look of anger, only of want and adoration. She felt like a queen under his watch and she felt compelled to treat him like the loyal subject he was.

"That what you want Eddie?" she whispers, looking into his eyes and kissing the sides of his length. "For me to fuck you?" his lip snarls just slightly and he melts, she was...absolutely fantastic. He opens his mouth to speak, but she interrupts him. "What if I want to suck your cock first, huh?" she asks with an air of faux innocence that makes him give up and let his head fall back with a groan.

"Please." he moans out.

"Such a nice boy." she coos, kissing and licking her way back up before sucking on his head.

He hisses in approval, a whine released as she cups his balls, the other hand wrapping around his base as she gets him wet and slowly takes him into her mouth. "Shit." he whispers, moving her hair out of her face. She works her hands and mouth in tandem, stroking and following her mouths rhythm. "You're so good at th-aaaaaaat." he groans as she runs her tongue over his balls. He didn't need her down here any longer, she could already feel him pulsing under her tongue, his balls tighten as she sucked him off.

She slinks back up, rubbing herself back and forth over his length. "You feel how wet this pussy is for you, Eddie?" her voice low and teasing, rubbing herself frictionless against him.

"Fuck...yes, I do." he moans, one hand rubbing down his face before she takes them both and brushes his fingertips across her lips.

"You want it Eddie?" she gives him a devilish smile he hadn't thought her sweet face was capable of.

"Yes." he nods, watching her lips suck on his fingertips.

"Ask me." she directs. "Ask me real nice for it." she looks into his eyes, lapping away at his index finger and he can barely remember to breathe let alone form coherent requests.

"Please." he pants out. "Please, Candy, I want it so bad." he whimpers, chest rising and falling fast.

She releases his hands, moving hers to his face to hold his chin, rubbing her thumb over his lips. "Such a good boy, aren't you baby?" she coos again, her other hands raising and notching his head inside her. "Such." she pants out. "A good." her eyes shut, her head starting to fall back. "Boy." she sighs out, lowering herself onto him. Her composure breaks for a moment. It'd been too long, he was giving her a good stretch. "Fuck." she whimpers, mouth falling open, licking before biting her lips. She whines slightly, wiggling her hips and finding a pace. Resting her hands on his chest, his hands find hers and rest on top of them. "Oh, shit." she lets out a deep chuckle, hips now steady, the sound of breathing and skin to skin the only thing in the space around them. The lights from the shop signs outside, the red, blue's and yellows fade and change and shift across their bodies as they move together. A slow unfamiliar pace changes to something more frantic, less calculated as she leans forward, connecting their mouths again as they feverishly kiss. His hands on her hips, one of hers gripped in his hair, the other on the bed for support as she arches and bows against him.

Every helpless noise is passed back and forth between their mouths, everything turning messy, wet and urgent as they both drank each other in. Tongues stayed outside of their mouths as their breathing grew too fast, the moans forced out too often to bother with lips. As he held his head up to meet her, their foreheads pressed together as one of his hands move up to pinch at her breasts and she lets out a loud moan.

"Fuck, I'm close." she pants out. The moan tears out of him at the confession, other hand moving to the side of her face to hold it still and try to kiss her again and they briefly succeed. She raises up, hands on his chest and determined expression, she gritted her teeth and rode him as hard as she could. "C'mon." she growls, smacking her hand on his chest. "Fuck me." she orders, a yelp escaping as she throws her head back as he moves his feet to pump up into her. "That's it." a drawn out, low moan as she hangs her head. As they did in business, they do in bed as they work together so well. Her nails grip into him but he barely notices, his brow low and focused, trying to not come too soon and also give her anything she wanted. He watches her move, entranced as her hair stuck to her face with sweat, tits bouncing and ass pounding away at his hips. He'd needed this so fucking bad, she knew what she was doing, she was fun, it felt easy and this was what he needed. She chants "Fuck. Yes, Eddie." moving from growls to high pitched squeaks. Her eyes open, they swing down to meet his. Out of her open panting mouth, she says so helplessly, "Don't stop. So close." a sharp intake of breath and her hips stutter. He focuses, forcing his hand between their bodies, his thumb pushing between her lips, watching her face fight against the pleasure. "Make me come, baby. Yes, make me." her voice almost sound like a plea and he moans, feeling her start to shake. He hadn't felt so powerful in so long time. With a few swipes of his thumb and thrusts of his hips, she fell to pieces on top of him. A building moan with every breath, her hips stutter, trying to keep going but soon the convulsions took her body over. With loud, feminine gasps, she rolls her head back forward from its position of shouting towards the ceiling. He watches her eyes focus again before she dives down on him, the hungriest kisses of the night so far between them. Needy moans and groans as he met her with equal fervor. Although her hips have slowed they have not stopped, still riding him with the intention to end him. She moves to his neck, sucking and licking and kissing up into his ear and back to his shoulder, he lays back and enjoys it. With the pressure off now to perform gone, he lets everything come as it pleases. "You wanna come now, baby?" she whispers between licks to the shell of his ear.

He nods, "Mmmph, please." he grits out, his hips not working as hard as they had.

"Then come for me." she purrs, a hand tugging his hair, hips moving faster again.

"In...Inside?" he manages to ask.

"Yeah, I've got an IUD don't worry about it." she says in a more more controlled way than he was capable of at the moment. "You can fill this pussy up if you want to, Eddie." she coos, back to her low sexual tone that he was finding he was already conditioned to respond to.

"Fuck, Candy." he moans, a high pitched gasp coming after.

"I came all over that cock now you come for this tight little pussy, yeah?" his head falls back, eyes shut and lolling about behind their lids. He was going to follow whatever that mouth told him to do. And as if he could forget, the mention of the word tight makes him focus on how she felt, how wet, how warm and soft she was. Not just between her legs, her chest bounced against his chest, thighs and ass still bobbing as he grips her hips again, letting himself get overwhelmed.

"Shit, baby, gonna come." he whines, teeth gritting together, eyes screwed shut as he lets out a loud grunt that fills her with pride for her work.

"That's it." she whispers, her hips still working away at him, his hip pulsing as he gave over to it with grunts and wanton moans. He was very vocal, possibly the most vocal man she'd been with and not that he was exceptionally so, she just found his willingness to give in rather intoxicating. Once his eyes open again, she presses her lips against his softly and finds him wanting as he groans, one hand to the back of her head, the other moving from her hip to back. It was slow and indulgent and directionless and soft. She was charmed entirely.

Their lips pause and slow, soft breathy laughs as they part, looking at each other in the afterglow, both their heads much clearer. She shifts herself and winces. "Be right back." she says with one last peck before she rises and walks to the bathroom. He lays there, one arm behind his head after watching her naked form move across the room. They'd really done that, huh? He thinks, scratching his head, his hair down on his forehead, messy from her hands and sweat. He doesn't have much time to gather his thoughts as to what to do now as she reappears, washcloth in hand, reaching out to run it over his wet and now sticky bits as the air got to him.

He lets out a low groan that makes her smile and chuckle as she gently wipes him down before he can give any rejection to the action. She tosses the cloth into the hamper in the corner, he watches her throw her clothes in after, moving naked and confident about her apartment, he was fully enjoying the sight of her body and the acknowledgment of her confidence to walk around totally bare with someone seeing her in such a state for the first time. She puts his clothes across the back of her desk chair that was against the wall opposite the bed. "I like having everything put up before I go to sleep." she says with a half smile, tugging at the covers. He takes the hint, rolling and sitting up on the edge of the bed, not as confident as she was to stroll around naked, even in the dim light.

"I'm gonna..." he points in the direction of the bathroom. She nods in response, turning down the covers as she watches him walk to the bathroom with a smirk on her face. He reemerges, looking around to find the food put up, the whiskey closed and a glass of water and his phone by the bed on her nightstand, already plugged in. Man, she was thorough in every part of her life, wasn't she? He finds her on her side, comforter over her naked body, under her arms, her head resting on her hand. He reaches for his boxer briefs and tugs them on.

"Don't feel like you have to leave or anything. It's late, we drank, you can stay if you want." she says it casually with a shrug but she's more nervous about his response than she shows.

"I planned on stayin'." he says softly, moving towards the bed. "I just felt better with these on." he says with a shy smile, snapping the band of his underwear. She quietly sighs with relief, she wouldn't have been insulted exactly, but it was always nice to have the reassurance he wasn't appalled at what they'd just done. He lifts the covers, the sight verified she was in fact still naked. He notices bruises forming on her. "Oh shit, I didn't do that did I?" his face twists with worry, reaching out to run his fingertips across her hip where one of the spots were developing.

"No, I don't think so. These are from running from the cops I think." she chuckles, watching his lips pout.

"Good. I'd feel like an asshole if I did that." he admits, looking back up to her eyes, covering them both gently with the blanket.

"Man..." she sighs. "You really are sweet aren't you?" she smiles and he blushes.

"If me not wanting to leave bruises on you is the bar for sweetness for you for men I'd like to apologize on behalf of all of 'em." he says with humor in his voice as he settles back into the covers.

Ugh, how was a grown man so cute? She tries to make sure the oxytocin from the good sex doesn't cloud her brain too much. "Yeah...you're one of the good ones." she smiles, kissing his cheek.

He makes a groaned sound, not really works but it felt the equivalent of 'aw, shucks'.

"Night Eddie." she whispers, smiling down at him.

"Night Candy." he says softly, a yawn creeping up as she turned and laid on her stomach and settled into the soft bed. The sheet's smelled nice and fresh despite the dirty things that had gone down on them. They were cool and soft and he felt a welcome calm he hadn't in a long time. It'd be too much to reach out and touch her, he thought. But man did he miss having someone to cuddle up to as he fell asleep. Maybe next time he thought. Would there be a next time? He questioned. He wasn't sure what this meant. It was two friends sleeping together. Maybe it was was a fuck buddy situation. There weren't any romantic words spoken, just praise and lust beforehand. He feels sleep coming for him, another yawn as he turned to his side, facing her, looking over her soft features in the faint light before shutting his eyes for good. They were both wondering the same thing, both hoping it wasn't the last time they'd spend the night together like this.

Pt. 5 (NSFW)

@raceylacy​ @emerald-bijou​ @negansdirtygirl22​ @brianaisasongbird​ @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger@chortletortoise @onomatopoetic-aesthetic @anrm1 @jademox @nightcraver @venomous-possibiities

the beginning of a thing

This is the beginning of a thing. It is also published here >>>>> https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/178504141/write/705655879

enjoy :)  Who am I? Your guess is as good as mine, really.Am I simply the young hardware store cashier with blue hair and long roots who sometimes wears bright red lipstick (which, by French fashion standards, is more of a warm red than a cool tone red and doesn’t match my skin tone)? Maybe I’m not all that complex; it’s possible that my life really isn’t much more intricate than what customers see when I scan the barcodes on their oak two-by-fours in their carts and take their dirty coupons in my thin white hand with a smile. For the most part, I don’t speak to my coworkers unless spoken to, and as far as customers go, I am on autopilot: “Hello, you find everything okay?” If the customer only sets one or two items on my counter (usually a soap-box-sized carton of screws or some small random piece of plumbing piping): “Would you like a bag for that?” (It makes me happy when they say no; plastic bags are horrible for the environment.) The customers usually insert their cards into the card reader on my counter and then stare at me in their idle, waiting for me to perform some magical cashier trick on the computer, unaware until I peep up and tell them so that the card reader machine is waiting on them to push a button or enter a credit pin number. Maybe I’m just as dull and reticent when I go home after nine hours of, “Hello, you find everything okay? Would you like a bag for that? It’s gonna have you select debit or credit--here’s your receipt, and here is a coupon for five dollars off a purchase of twenty-five or more,” as I am when I take my lunch breaks alone in the quiet of the training room, reading some overdue library book and pinching small bite-sized pieces off of a gas station brownie to nibble at instead of taking direct bites out of the suspiciously oily pastry.Maybe I’m actually the notions inside my head. Maybe I am just a tool that they use to be heard and make their dreams a reality; maybe I’m not my body or job. Maybe I am a successful, peaceful, light-hearted artist and author--I just haven’t published my novels or hosted any successful art shows yet. Or any art shows, for that matter.Perhaps I’m my mother’s daughter; stubborn and crazy, with an invariably rotten attitude and enough financial issues for myself and all of my fellow cashiers to build a boat out of and sail away from civilization and debt.Maybe I’m always so quiet because I’m holding my tongue, like my mother, and thinking about slashing tires and throwing ceramic dishes at skulls and sinking screwdrivers into flesh, all in the name or petty revenge or an intense burst of anger. Except, come to think of it, my mother doesn’t actually ever hold her tongue, so I suppose I might just be quiet for reasons entirely my own.Maybe I’m just like my mother’s mother, like my mother is so committed to convincing me I am, except fifty years younger; nasally voice, although mine is less whiny and severe; sitting in front of a computer for hours a day, except she uses the computer her husband bought for her to do lazy transcription work so she can have money for cigarettes, the only thing in life her husband won’t buy for her, and I saved up my paychecks in high school to buy my laptop so that I could leave Mudcap High School and graduate early through online classes; we both sleep a lot, and, as my mother said when I was in high school, I “spent a lot of time on my ass” just like Grammy does--although my time in bed was always induced by an inability to find the motivation to get up, and Grammy’s bedridden state came from staying up too late playing online solitaire. Maybe I’m just that girl from Mudcap High School whose hair displayed a new fresh (done at home) short cut and color of the rainbow at the beginning and end of every month whose clothes all came from Salvation Army and whose stomach was always making obnoxious attention-seeking noises in Spanish--wait, you thought all that time that I was a boy? Well, yeah, I guess that’s reasonable. I wore a lot of huge baggy sweaters.Maybe you just know me because you know somebody who knew me. In that case, maybe I only exist in your world and consciousness as the girl who broke Jo-Ellan’s heart, or the girl who tried to look like a boy but then dropped out and grew boobs and is now hot (in the online pictures, at least). Maybe your friend has a friend who knew my twin brother, and so you heard from your friend’s friend who knows my twin brother that my twin brother’s friend saw me on a dating app, and my brother told him, “Don’t worry dude, she doesn’t like dudes. She’s just looking for a sugar daddy.” And so my twin brother, whom we will call “Z”, laughed about it with his friend once the shocking sighting of Z’s twin sister on a dating app had passed, and all was well, but now people know that Z’s twin sister is a sugar baby and not as quiet and sweet as she seems.Maybe you heard about me from Dan or Katherine; maybe you hope to meet me someday, because I sound like a very sweet person and you like the artwork of mine which they showed you. Maybe you heard about me from Tyler, the guy I made sandwiches with when I worked at Subway in high school--in which case you probably believe him when he says that I did drugs in the back room of the restaurant. Maybe you don’t even know my name--maybe you know me because you’ve seen the art I post online. Maybe you feel very connected to me, and feel pleased to see me when you see that I’ve posted a picture of a sketchbook page I’ve completed. Maybe You don’t know my name at all, but the way I layer paint and colored pencils and vary the thickness of my lineart is enough. Maybe the portraits and paintings I share are enough for you to care about me.Maybe you’re one of Sage’s friends. Maybe you hung out with us the October night when it was warm and I was seventeen and he was eighteen and he put acid under my tongue with his goofy smile and then left my house because he was high and felt like God and my bathroom-sized bedroom was like a birdcage for him at that moment in time. Maybe you were there when he skateboarded from my house to Sebastian’s with more acid and weed in his backpack and the intention to share. Maybe you’re one of the three other guys who were at Sebastian’s house, already under the magical intoxication of Sage’s acid when he called a cab to pick me up from my house and bring me there to drink canned beer and smoke mediocre blunts until the sun came up and I noticed how swollen my lips felt, because acid always makes my lips feel all swollen and purple. So maybe you know me as Sage’s girlfriend who he didn’t call his girlfriend until I finally dumped him months later and he begged for me to stay and apologized for never giving me attention or being a good boyfriend. And that was the first time he had called himself my boyfriend.I don’t want to think about nights like those anymore. The boy I’m dating now regards LSD with as much hissing ostracism as if it were all cocaine sold from the alley behind a gas station dumpster. Just thinking about that night makes me feel high, though--my anemia leads me to shiver even in sixty-degree weather, which Midwesterners consider quite warm, but I didn’t mind the wind blowing through my maroon flannel and thin anemic skin that night. As I sat on the cold chipped concrete steps in front of my house waiting for the cab Sage had called for me, the cold was refreshing and good-hearted instead of a brittle cruel punishment from Mother Nature. I didn’t feel insecure about my dingy old black high top Converse; my high-waisted jeans and black T-shirt didn’t make me feel like I looked like a twelve-year-old boy; and the dead-ends in my chin-length purple hair were not worth my concern. The sky all up above and around me and the globe, hugging the horizon of the sleepy little dangerous city, cradling the most dangerous place in all of Indiana in its arm like a tired baby, was stark black, and I could basically smell it; it was a nice undiluted solid black, and there was no pollution hiding the stars. The stars had had a grand day, and were ready to make sure that I was going to have a grand night.The neighbors on all sides of our house were drug dealers, and those were just the neighbors we actually talked to and knew anything about. The National Guard Armory to the right of my mother’s house, right across the narrow one-way street, was comical considering the neighborhood it was in. But none of that mattered; for once I didn’t hate it all. The sky was a rich fragrant black, thick enough to choke you if it had such bad intentions; but its intention were only good. The black was the many yards of high-quality fabric of a fine lady’s skirt flowing endlessly down from a well-tailored strapless bodice with a lovely fit and comely sweetheart neckline. The stars were bright and small enough to be all the jewels and shiny beads which her personal tailor had surely spent weeks or months or even a lifetime hand stitching onto the top layer of her many layers of skirts.It was such a good night to wait outside for a cab.I will never have nights like that again; life is constantly changing. I can try to recreate that, but I will never get it right. Recreating such good things is a privilege entirely out of my pale mortal hands.Maybe you know me as the girl who drew really nice insects at Emmons Elementary when we were nine years old who has since moved to and from at least three public schools in the next city over, and then left public schools entirely right smack in the middle of junior year. Maybe that’s how you know me.You could know me as Andy. If you still know me as Andy, you probably either haven’t spoken to me since sophomore or freshman year, or you knew me in eighth grade when “Andy” was still a thing, and calling me by my real name now just wouldn’t feel right after all that time. I told people to stop calling me Andy junior year, and people obeyed--well, really I just stopped talking to anybody, so nobody called me anything. But the man I am dating now called me my real name yesterday, and it just sounded strange. He never knew me when I was Andy, and Andy only lasted a few years, and I don’t introduce myself as Andy anymore. I don’t care to be called Andy anymore. Yet it feels so strange, hearing somebody casually call me by my real name. Not knowing that I ever had another name. I don’t think I’ve really spoken to people since high school, so that was one of the first times I’ve heard somebody say it. My mother doesn’t even use my name--she’s never really called me my name, or anything nice.I’m rambling. My name just sounds weird. I don’t like it when boys say it passionately.There are so many people that I may be--I can’t even begin to guess which one you may know me as. Even if I were to know exactly what experiences we’ve had together or who told you about me, maybe you don’t even see me as what we’ve done together or what you’ve heard--maybe your own personal thoughts and emotions warped what you know about me. Maybe for the better, probably for the worse. Maybe jealousy came into play somewhere along the road, and no matter what good things you’ve heard, you refuse to accept that somebody who dated somebody who you wanted to date can be genuinely kind and good. Maybe you don’t even remember anymore why you don’t like me. You just don’t.Maybe you’ve loved me since freshman year, before you even knew my name, before you cut your hair short and before I grew mine out, so no bad things you hear about me sound right or can scathe your love. Maybe you don’t want to know me. Maybe you wish you did. Maybe you’re thinking about checking the back cover of this book and scavaging the pages of tiny nonsense text that comes before the first chapter and prologue just so that you can find some email or way to contact me because you think I sound interesting.However you see me now, though, that will change. The way I see myself changes at least three times per hour.

I just rewatched the Ugly Truth and I feel like I need a bath.

I will preface this by saying, I watched this when it came out and enjoyed it. I didn’t think it was an amazing romance, but I enjoyed it for the romantic trash I often enjoyed. 

Rewatching it, post-women studies, post-academia, post-growing up and experiencing real relationships, it’s disgusting on so many fronts. 

All the critiques it appears to almost try to criticize, it instead holds up and applauds. 

We have this strong, capable, good at her job, smart woman who is a producer despite being a woman and somewhat young being completely undermined at every term by the men above her at her job and the man she’s supposed to be in charge of. This is nothing to say with the constant sexual harassment, degradation of women, and overall sexist message it constantly purports. 

Hell, Hitch somehow manages a better message than the Ugly Truth. Hitch at least had it turn out that the woman they were trying to lie to liked the guy who was lying better for all the things that were 100% him rather. The Ugly Truth quite literally proved the misogynist right and then rewarded him with our protagonist. 

Maybe this doesn’t come to a surprise to anyone else. I haven’t watched this film probably since 2012 or so, so it has been a hot second. I’m almost scared now to watch The Proposal, because that was a movie that came out the same year that I also liked. 

How in the hell two women could have written this movie is beyond me. At every second it felt terrible and degrading. 

I watch a lot of romantic trash that had terrible messages to women, but they usually at least have some redeeming qualities or empowered women. Not the Ugly Truth. There is literally nothing. No moment in this movie qualifies as redeeming. The love interest learns no lesson to be nicer, the woman isn’t given power over her career, the third wheel love interest doesn’t turn out to be a nice guy, there are no kind and supportive friends, and there are no funny moments that don’t involve the humiliation of the female protagonist I’m supposed to be rooting for.

To end my rant, let me propose how to fix this travesty, if only because it’ll make me feel better to imagine how I would write it better:

Abby takes control of her job and shows she knows better than the assholes who are always just ignoring her clear brilliance and ability to think on her feet. This has to happen for me to feel vindicated for what she has to go through with producing the Ugly Truth. There are three ways I see this going. Option 1: she quits in the end. Instead of Mike quitting or in lieu of him quitting and being told she has to find his replacement, Abby quits instead, declaring she deserves a workplace that values her talent. We are given one reason she stays at a small local network, but it’s not a good enough reason to prevent her from really going somewhere in my opinion, especially not at least to a different network than the trash place she works at. Option 2: there are massive protests against the Ugly Truth, and Abby leads the charge to instead turn the network around to be a feminist dream workplace. I do not buy for a second that 98% of women would like the Ugly Truth. Sure maybe the white women who voted for Trump would like watching it because they’ve been brainwashed to think toxic masculinity is chill, but the rest of us, and even a lot of those women, would disgusted either by the sexism or the non-Christian discussions. Ideally, the networks higher ups would be fired and Abby would be given the reigns to turn it around. Option 3: She turns the Ugly Truth around. By sheer brilliance. She brings in feminist women and men who could counter and argue against Mike’s Ugly Truth. She brings in academics who can show scientifically that Mike’s perspective is wrong. The Ugly Truth turns into a show breaking down the ugly truth about toxic masculinity and the patriarchy. This one is probably my favorite since it lends itself to really enabling Mike to be a better person so he can be a love interest. This is a romantic comedy (or its supposed to be at least), so I’m fine with some acceptance of a love interest. 

We need to overhaul these fucking asshole love interests. Mike and Colin are both absolutely terrible and Abby’s interaction with them give me no reason she would fall for either or them or that they would fall for her.  Let’s start with Colin though, since he’s clearly just the trope “boyfriend who causes conflict by existing”. There is nothing special about him. He’s rich and handsome, the protagonist spends most of the movie thinking he’s the one, he turns out to be a dick, and his being somewhere and the real love interest seeing him makes the real love interest go running. I hate this trope. I much prefer the newer(?), less common trope that I’ve seen in some movies where the established love interest is legit nice and things just don’t work out between him and the protagonist for some reason. I want a Colin who says yes when Abby asks him out. I want a Colin who is clearly turned off (to the audience) whenever Abby tries one of Mike’s ploys, but is too nice to just turn her down for them (because he likes her otherwise). I want a Colin who in the end says they should break up because while Abby is great, because she clearly won’t be honest with him. Or that Abby breaks up with saying that she has feelings for someone else and Colin is just like, cool, let’s be friends, I still like your cat a lot. And we get to see them hanging out on double dates in the end scenes. Mike... Mike is just terrible and there’s no way he can ever get the girl without major changes. In fact, if I just got description of them both, I would assume this was a secret “nice man right in front of you when you are chasing after the asshole trope” wherein Abby gets Colin instead. It would be a nice surprise. However, Mike has some interest character elements that lend itself to a potentially fascinating love interest. First off, let’s get out of the way, he has to learn, or admit, that the Ugly Truth bullshit is just that, bullshit. Otherwise, he can stay in the dumpster he lives in. However, putting that aside, there are some questions would might lend to a much more interesting love interest. His relationship with his nephew is one of them. He clearly is super potentially cute to his nephew and sister. He teaches his nephew terrible things, which is unfortunate, but if we fix that? Let’s say instead of Abby hearing him say that it’s awesome girls are already going to him [the nephew], we instead hear him saying that empowered women are the best and sexiest. Earlier in the movie instead of hearing him say that he should be insulting 20 year olds, we hear him say that he should never insult women, they get that enough from assholes who follow his show. If we have it clearly established that he doesn’t believe the things he says through the lessons he gives his nephew, we would have an easy way to show the dissonance while still seeing the cute uncle-nephew relationship.  This also brings up the potential for why he got started on the Ugly Truth. We get a vague comment once (that’s never answered mind you) about how he got hurt before, but that’s bullshit and a cop-out. I instead want it to have started out as a satire, or maybe he was really hurt from a break up- OR he was really angry when his sister’s baby-daddy left her so he went on youtube and ranted about “The Ugly Truth” about love. Basically, we just need some backstory to believe he stumbled on this character, whether because he was telling the truth for a moment or trying to make a joke, but now he’s earning money doing this and he doesn’t really know how to get out. Maybe he never got a degree because he helped his sister earn money (seriously, it’s so easy to milk this relationship he has with his family) or maybe he got one but its in something that doesn’t make money like art and he doesn’t know how to transition from acting to that. Now he’s stuck, and maybe he’s tired of people assuming he’s the character he plays so he stops disputing them. Maybe he’s knowingly using his male privilege because he knows this character gets along with the creeps who run networks. Maybe he’s just bitter in general and has a hard time turning it off anymore.  On the other hand, I would also accept swapping out a lesbian for Mike and have Abby turn out to be bisexual. The lesbian could say all sorts of bullshit to get on TV and it’d make sense considering what men in charge of entertainment expect women to do to get their airtime. 

At least one supportive friend to the protagonist. We get Joy, her friend/employee? But Joy almost just acts to support the idea that somehow women are okay with Mike. Besides getting Abby dates, we see no reason to suspect she’s actually a friend to Abby. Maybe they are trying to say Abby doesn’t have any friends because she put her career over all else, but I find that really hard to swallow. I spend the majority of my time on work and me-time recuperating from working, but I still have friends that I see semi-regularly and a significant other I spend a lot of time with. 

We need there to be a legit sexual harassment claim filed at this workplace and people to get fired. That’s all. 

The Beginning of Something

OOps, I accidentally put this on the wrong blog. lmao follow shyshysmind for my writing, i’m gonna repost this oops This is the first chapter of..... something. It is also published here > https://www.wattpad.com/705655879-lavender-whomever

Who am I? Your guess is as good as mine, really.

Am I simply the young hardware store cashier with blue hair and long roots who sometimes wears bright red lipstick (which, by French fashion standards, is more of a warm red than a cool tone red and doesn’t match my skin tone)? Maybe I’m not all that complex; it’s possible that my life really isn’t much more intricate than what customers see when I scan the barcodes on their oak two-by-fours in their carts and take their dirty coupons in my thin white hand with a smile. For the most part, I don’t speak to my coworkers unless spoken to, and as far as customers go, I am on autopilot: “Hello, you find everything okay?” If the customer only sets one or two items on my counter (usually a soap-box-sized carton of screws or some small random piece of plumbing piping): “Would you like a bag for that?” (It makes me happy when they say no; plastic bags are horrible for the environment.)

The customers usually insert their cards into the card reader on my counter and then stare at me in their idle, waiting for me to perform some magical cashier trick on the computer, unaware until I peep up and tell them so that the card reader machine is waiting on them to push a button or enter a credit pin number.

Maybe I’m just as dull and reticent when I go home after nine hours of, “Hello, you find everything okay? Would you like a bag for that? It’s gonna have you select debit or credit--here’s your receipt, and here is a coupon for five dollars off a purchase of twenty-five or more,” as I am when I take my lunch breaks alone in the quiet of the training room, reading some overdue library book and pinching small bite-sized pieces off of a gas station brownie to nibble at instead of taking direct bites out of the suspiciously oily pastry.

Maybe I’m actually the notions inside my head. Maybe I am just a tool that they use to be heard and make their dreams a reality; maybe I’m not my body or job. Maybe I am a successful, peaceful, light-hearted artist and author--I just haven’t published my novels or hosted any successful art shows yet. Or any art shows, for that matter.

Perhaps I’m my mother’s daughter; stubborn and crazy, with an invariably rotten attitude and enough financial issues for myself and all of my fellow cashiers to build a boat out of and sail away from civilization and debt.

Maybe I’m always so quiet because I’m holding my tongue, like my mother, and thinking about slashing tires and throwing ceramic dishes at skulls and sinking screwdrivers into flesh, all in the name or petty revenge or an intense burst of anger. Except, come to think of it, my mother doesn’t actually ever hold her tongue, so I suppose I might just be quiet for reasons entirely my own.

Maybe I’m just like my mother’s mother, like my mother is so committed to convincing me I am, except fifty years younger; nasally voice, although mine is less whiny and severe; sitting in front of a computer for hours a day, except she uses the computer her husband bought for her to do lazy transcription work so she can have money for cigarettes, the only thing in life her husband won’t buy for her, and I saved up my paychecks in high school to buy my laptop so that I could leave Mudcap High School and graduate early through online classes; we both sleep a lot, and, as my mother said when I was in high school, I “spent a lot of time on my ass” just like Grammy does--although my time in bed was always induced by an inability to find the motivation to get up, and Grammy’s bedridden state came from staying up too late playing online solitaire.

Maybe I’m just that girl from Mudcap High School whose hair displayed a new fresh (done at home) short cut and color of the rainbow at the beginning and end of every month whose clothes all came from Salvation Army and whose stomach was always making obnoxious attention-seeking noises in Spanish--wait, you thought all that time that I was a boy? Well, yeah, I guess that’s reasonable. I wore a lot of huge baggy sweaters.

Maybe you just know me because you know somebody who knew me. In that case, maybe I only exist in your world and consciousness as the girl who broke Jo-Ellan’s heart, or the girl who tried to look like a boy but then dropped out and grew boobs and is now hot (in the online pictures, at least). Maybe your friend has a friend who knew my twin brother, and so you heard from your friend’s friend who knows my twin brother that my twin brother’s friend saw me on a dating app, and my brother told him, “Don’t worry dude, she doesn’t like dudes. She’s just looking for a sugar daddy.” And so my twin brother, whom we will call “Z”, laughed about it with his friend once the shocking sighting of Z’s twin sister on a dating app had passed, and all was well, but now people know that Z’s twin sister is a sugar baby and not as quiet and sweet as she seems.

Maybe you heard about me from Dan or Katherine; maybe you hope to meet me someday, because I sound like a very sweet person and you like the artwork of mine which they showed you.

Maybe you heard about me from Tyler, the guy I made sandwiches with when I worked at Subway in high school--in which case you probably believe him when he says that I did drugs in the back room of the restaurant.

Maybe you don’t even know my name--maybe you know me because you’ve seen the art I post online. Maybe you feel very connected to me, and feel pleased to see me when you see that I’ve posted a picture of a sketchbook page I’ve completed. Maybe You don’t know my name at all, but the way I layer paint and colored pencils and vary the thickness of my lineart is enough. Maybe the portraits and paintings I share are enough for you to care about me.

Maybe you’re one of Sage’s friends. Maybe you hung out with us the October night when it was warm and I was seventeen and he was eighteen and he put acid under my tongue with his goofy smile and then left my house because he was high and felt like God and my bathroom-sized bedroom was like a birdcage for him at that moment in time. Maybe you were there when he skateboarded from my house to Sebastian’s with more acid and weed in his backpack and the intention to share. Maybe you’re one of the three other guys who were at Sebastian’s house, already under the magical intoxication of Sage’s acid when he called a cab to pick me up from my house and bring me there to drink canned beer and smoke mediocre blunts until the sun came up and I noticed how swollen my lips felt, because acid always makes my lips feel all swollen and purple. So maybe you know me as Sage’s girlfriend who he didn’t call his girlfriend until I finally dumped him months later and he begged for me to stay and apologized for never giving me attention or being a good boyfriend. And that was the first time he had called himself my boyfriend.

I don’t want to think about nights like those anymore. The boy I’m dating now regards LSD with as much hissing ostracism as if it were all cocaine sold from the alley behind a gas station dumpster. Just thinking about that night makes me feel high, though--my anemia leads me to shiver even in sixty-degree weather, which Midwesterners consider quite warm, but I didn’t mind the wind blowing through my maroon flannel and thin anemic skin that night. As I sat on the cold chipped concrete steps in front of my house waiting for the cab Sage had called for me, the cold was refreshing and good-hearted instead of a brittle cruel punishment from Mother Nature. I didn’t feel insecure about my dingy old black high top Converse; my high-waisted jeans and black T-shirt didn’t make me feel like I looked like a twelve-year-old boy; and the dead-ends in my chin-length purple hair were not worth my concern.

The sky all up above and around me and the globe, hugging the horizon of the sleepy little dangerous city, cradling the most dangerous place in all of Indiana in its arm like a tired baby, was stark black, and I could basically smell it; it was a nice undiluted solid black, and there was no pollution hiding the stars. The stars had had a grand day, and were ready to make sure that I was going to have a grand night.

The neighbors on all sides of our house were drug dealers, and those were just the neighbors we actually talked to and knew anything about. The National Guard Armory to the right of my mother’s house, right across the narrow one-way street, was comical considering the neighborhood it was in. But none of that mattered; for once I didn’t hate it all.

The sky was a rich fragrant black, thick enough to choke you if it had such bad intentions; but its intention were only good. The black was the many yards of high-quality fabric of a fine lady’s skirt flowing endlessly down from a well-tailored strapless bodice with a lovely fit and comely sweetheart neckline. The stars were bright and small enough to be all the jewels and shiny beads which her personal tailor had surely spent weeks or months or even a lifetime hand stitching onto the top layer of her many layers of skirts.

It was such a good night to wait outside for a cab.

I will never have nights like that again; life is constantly changing. I can try to recreate that, but I will never get it right. Recreating such good things is a privilege entirely out of my pale mortal hands.

Maybe you know me as the girl who drew really nice insects at Emmons Elementary when we were nine years old who has since moved to and from at least three public schools in the next city over, and then left public schools entirely right smack in the middle of junior year. Maybe that’s how you know me.

You could know me as Andy. If you still know me as Andy, you probably either haven’t spoken to me since sophomore or freshman year, or you knew me in eighth grade when “Andy” was still a thing, and calling me by my real name now just wouldn’t feel right after all that time.

I told people to stop calling me Andy junior year, and people obeyed--well, really I just stopped talking to anybody, so nobody called me anything. But the man I am dating now called me my real name yesterday, and it just sounded strange. He never knew me when I was Andy, and Andy only lasted a few years, and I don’t introduce myself as Andy anymore. I don’t care to be called Andy anymore. Yet it feels so strange, hearing somebody casually call me by my real name. Not knowing that I ever had another name. I don’t think I’ve really spoken to people since high school, so that was one of the first times I’ve heard somebody say it. My mother doesn’t even use my name--she’s never really called me my name, or anything nice.

I’m rambling. My name just sounds weird. I don’t like it when boys say it passionately.

There are so many people that I may be--I can’t even begin to guess which one you may know me as. Even if I were to know exactly what experiences we’ve had together or who told you about me, maybe you don’t even see me as what we’ve done together or what you’ve heard--maybe your own personal thoughts and emotions warped what you know about me. Maybe for the better, probably for the worse. Maybe jealousy came into play somewhere along the road, and no matter what good things you’ve heard, you refuse to accept that somebody who dated somebody who you wanted to date can be genuinely kind and good. Maybe you don’t even remember anymore why you don’t like me. You just don’t.

Maybe you’ve loved me since freshman year, before you even knew my name, before you cut your hair short and before I grew mine out, so no bad things you hear about me sound right or can scathe your love.

Maybe you don’t want to know me. Maybe you wish you did. Maybe you’re thinking about checking the back cover of this book and scavaging the pages of tiny nonsense text that comes before the first chapter and prologue just so that you can find some email or way to contact me because you think I sound interesting.

However you see me now, though, that will change. The way I see myself changes at least three times per hour.

Chapter Nineteen: Mission #1- Finding Toothless’ Partner and Finding Sophia and Rich Secret.

Mission Day #0

     When I asked my questions none of the boys spoke. They just stare at the floor. It’s was like they had a secret that they were afraid to tell me. But the Healers were there and they explained it to me. 

Sarah: Before you came into Sky’s life. Sophia always thought that Sky would be hers. But the Goddess had a different plan for her. When Sophia went to the Oracle Mansion on her 18th birthday. It wasn’t Sky that became her soul mate it was Rich. When she saw it wasn’t the person that she has been dreaming about ever since she was a little girl, she got really upset. She and Rich never got out of the Friendship Phase. Because Sophia thought that Sky wouldn’t find his true soul mate. So, all she had to do was show up at the Oracle Mansion when there is Soul Mate Searching Party. She try to flirt with Sky and even try to get into his pants. But Sky just stopped her in her tracks before she could go even further. Sophia, thought Sky was playing hard to get. But he wasn’t. Sky doesn’t like Sophia at all. He only pretends to be friendly with her because we all have to work together as a team. But the truth is Sophia isn’t a really nice person. If she can’t get what she wanted then she will stop anyone from having what she wants. Sophia never said anything to you for a whole week is because she knows that Sky is going to defend you. But when Sophia found out that you were Sky’s soul mate, she became really jealous and would come up with plans to make you either sick or hurt you. But the boys could see through Sophia’s plans and by the time you come downstairs everything is right. For example, when you and Sky is suppose to exercise on Sunday nights. The treadmill that you use is raised up 40 degrees higher then usual. Vicky usually exercise on Sunday nights. So, Vicky will lower your treadmill back to your normal level. When you’re about to eat breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Sophia always put rat poison in your food. But Charlie would always swap it out for a fresh plate. All of these things are done by Sophia because she is jealous of you and mad at the Goddess for not being  fair. As for why Sophia want to join King Eric. Well, that’s because King You had send her family into exile. Why Sophia’s family is in exile is because Sophia’s family were a bunch of robbers. They say they would change and not steal from anyone else. But since Sophia’s family are poor they have to rob others so they can survive. Sophia’s family tried to rob the Royal Family. But instead Sophia’s family killed something that was very dear to the Royal Family’s heart. That something was Frankie. Frankie was only 3 years old when he died. CCTV caught Sophia’s brother Max stabbing Frankie in the heart. So, Sophia traded her freedom to have her family to be exile while she stayed and train hard to become a Healer. Sophia wasn’t suppose to be a Healer. Because Sophia doesn’t have to the power to heal. But the power to kill. King You knew Sophia doesn’t have the healing power, but she traded her freedom to become a healer so that her family doesn’t have to die. Sophia’s freedom was to leave Sky alone and stop flirting with him. King Eric accepted Sophia’s family and they became hunters. But Sophia’s father wouldn’t leave his only daughter behind so he made a deal with King Eric, and that deal is to become loyal to King Eric. By becoming a hunter for life. If Mr. Gong did that then King Eric will get Sophia back to her family. Of course Sophia heard this and accept, but she has to stay in our team for a bit longer. Because King Eric wants to take over Mythical Kingdom. Sophia is the perfect choice to be their mole, and King Eric offered Rich the same plan. At first Rich didn’t want it but King Eric told Rich that he has a way to free Lee from prison. So Rich became the second mole. King Eric never liked the Mythical Kingdom and whomever becomes the strongest Royal Couple will be the end of King Eric. 

Jazzy: What is a strongest Royal Couple?

William: It’s called the Yin Yang Royal Couple. It is very rare. No one has come close becoming the Yin Yang Royal Couple. It said that the Yin Yang Royal Couple will bring peace to Mythical Kingdom. 

Jazzy: Oh. Well, now that we all know that there’s two moles on our team. We’ll just leave it be. Tomorrow we will get Snow and if they keep up with their stupidity then let them. 

Sky: What are you saying?

Jazzy: If King Eric wants to take over Mythical Kingdom. Let him. We just have to train hard and defend Mythical Kingdom. I don’t believe we can’t defend our home. So for now, we’ll just pretend that we don’t know about Rich and Sophia’s secret. I don’t want them to run away from us. I want to catch them red handed. But right now it’s not the time. Keep training hard and let them leak information to King Eric. 

Jeff: What if King You finds out about this?

Jazzy: -looking around the house and out the window- King You already knows about this. If he disapprove of what I’m planning then Sebastian would come and stop me on his behalf. Sebastian is King You’s advisor and he is also our guard who keeps an eye on us. The entire might not have any CCTVs but I have a feeling that there is CCTVs. Its just tinier and we can’t see it. But its there. I may not say much most of the time, but I can sense things. Before any one knows. Also, I’m not stupid as most people think I am. I may not tell you all what I’m planning, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan. My plan is to train hard and act like we didn’t find out about their secret. Let’s just through this last 4 weeks. 

Brandy: What if they attack first?

Jazzy: They won’t attack. It’s too early. My gut is telling me that they would attack later in the year. Also, King Eric doesn’t want Yin Yang Royal Couple. King Eric wants something bigger. Something that no one knows about. He thinks getting rid of Toothless and Snow, he would find what he’s looking for. Because King Eric thinks that Toothless and Snow is the key to something bigger. 

Sky: Like what?

Jazzy: Who knows. But it has to do with Mythical Kingdom. Something inside Mythical Kingdom. But we can’t just go charging in. That will be too dangerous. Training is our only option. 

Charlie: You’re not going turn into a monster are you?

Jazzy: -laughing- No. But first Toothless, you really stink. You need a bath. A real bath. 

Toothless: Finally. 

     I took Toothless to the bathroom and gave him a good scrubbing. 45 minutes later Toothless is back to his old self. I also cleaned up the entire house. Because it smell like a dumpster. 2 hours later the house was back to normal. We didn’t get to bed until 2 am. Tomorrow morning we will continue our journey to Hunters Island. 

-End of Day 0-

Mission Day #1, Getting Snow.

     The next morning we all had coffee and breakfast. Put on our walkie-talkies and set out. Toothless stayed at home with Sky and everyone else. While I, Will, Mike, Phil, and Sam went to the island. The new plan is for Mike to make the rest of us invisible. I knew that King Eric will move Snow into a different location, to make everything a little bit difficult. But that’s okay. I’m familiar with Snow scent so finding her wouldn’t be so hard. But I want to test the hunters. I know that King Eric is going to let us rescue Snow without attacking us. But after hearing what was said last night. I too want to test them. 20 minutes later we found Snow, she was in a cage sleeping. The poor thing was super skinny and scare. But when Snow knew I was there to help her and not hurt her. Since I don’t have the key to unlock her cage, I actually used my fire power to open the cage door. I was more surprised that I didn’t melt the entire cage. Mike used his invisibility to cloak Snow. We went back to the house without any problems. None of the hunters or King Eric came after us. This mission took no more than 30 minutes. I try to give Snow a bath which she didn’t like and she almost scratch the crap out me. So, I ask Sky to help me. To my surprise Snow like Sky and quietly let him bath her. 

      I left the bathroom and went to get my phone. I want to find out more about Yin Yang Royal Couple. So the best person to ask was Siri. That’s what I did. 

Jazzy: Hey Siri!

Siri: Yes. 

Jazzy: I need more information on Yin Yang Royal Couple. 

Siri: Yin Yang Royal Couple is a very rare couple. In a thousand years there was only one pair couple who have reached this stage of life. It was Goddess herself and her lover. Yin Yang Royal Couple is very powerful, they have the ability to heal anything that they touched. To achieve this stage you first need to find a soul mate, then you need to find a black cat and white cat, and then you need to have the Mating Mark. Once you have all these things then you have to keep training. The more you grow the stronger you’ll be. That’s all the information I have on the Yin Yang Royal Couple. 

Jazzy: Thanks Siri. 

Siri: No problem. Princess.

    Well, I have one black cat and one white cat. I have a soul mate. But I don’t have the Mating Mark yet. Also, I’m not strong enough. But my gut tells me that the Yin Yang Royal Couple is Sky and I. Why? Because Snow wouldn’t have allow Sky give her a bath, and Toothless wouldn’t have cuddle me every single day. 

Sky: Why were you asking Siri about Yin Yang Royal Couple?

Jazzy: Eek! -jumping out of my skin-

Sky: Sorry. 

Snow: Meow?

Jazzy: Because I want to know more about it. But Siri didn’t give that much information. All she said was how to become a Yin Yang Royal Couple. And that the Goddess and her lover reached the Yin Yang Royal Couple stage. 

Sky: You think its us?

Jazzy: That’s what my gut is telling me. Toothless has been cuddling me for a week and half now. Snow, would only let you bath her. She almost scratch the heck out me. I think Toothless is my Yin and Snow is your Yang. Siri also said that the harder we train the stronger we get. The only royal I know is you. And Siri won’t stop calling me Princess every time I thank her for something. Unless you’re going to tell me that there’s more than one royal member on our team. 

Sky: No. I’m the only royal. The boys are from noble families. Their families were middle class families that rose to the noble ranks. When I become King the boys would become Lords. Same with the girls. 

Jazzy: Well, that’s that. -smiling- Snow really likes you. 

Snow: I apologized for almost scratching you Princess. I don’t really like the way you were bathing me. You were scrubbing me too hard. 

Jazzy: I’m sorry. I was trying to get the stink out, and scrubbing you hard was the only way I can get it out. But if you like Sky can give you a bath when you need it. And I’ll give Toothless a bath when he needs it. 

Snow: You’re not mad Princess?

Jazzy: Why would I be mad. :) If you don’t like something that I’m doing please let me know. I’ll be happy to change it. I just want you to feel comfortable, loved, and be safe. Nothing else. :)

Snow: Okay. 

Jazzy: Hey Siri! 

Siri: Yes. 

Jazzy: Why am I being called a Princess?

Siri: Because you’re soul mate is a Prince. 

Jazzy: Oh. Is that the right title I’m suppose go by?

Siri: Yes. Your current title is Royal Princess Jazzy Tam. 

Jazzy: Do all get that title when you’re dating any member of the Royal Family?

Siri: Yes. 

Jazzy: Thanks Siri. 

Siri: No problem. Princess. 

Sky: I could’ve answer that question for you. 

Jazzy: Yes. But I have a feeling that you might tell me some weird answer. 

Sky: Like?

Jazzy: Something like you’re a prince and that automatically make me a princess. 

Sky: -laughing- That’s the answer I will give you. 

Jazzy: Ugh! -playfully pushes Sky away- 

    While Sky and I was talking Snow went to Toothless bowl and started eating his dinner. Drank his water and now she is sleeping. While Sky was fooling around. 

Toothless: -biting Jazzy ankle- 

Jazzy: Ow!

Toothless: Hungry. Thirsty. 

Jazzy: I put food in your bowl. Also there’s water in your water bowl. 

Toothless: Snow ate and drank it all. My bowls are empty. Feed me now! Or I bite. -going for Jazzy’s ankle again-

Jazzy: Okay! You crazy cat. 

    I refilled Toothless’ bowls. Toothless happily ate and drank. Snow finished cleaning herself and looked at me. 

Jazzy: -smiling-

Snow: Sorry. I was too hungry and thirsty to wait any longer. 

Jazzy: -smiling- That’s okay. Tomorrow is Friday. Sky and I will go shopping for you. 

Sky: Snow, I made you an appointment to see a vet tomorrow morning. 

Snow: -hissing and growling- 

Jazzy: Snow, you been in that cage for Goddess know how long. We need to make sure you’re okay. We want you to be healthy. And not sick. No one likes going to the doctors. But everyone needs a physical check up every now and then. I would’ve go with you but I have report to write. You’ll be find. Also, Sky will buy you nice water bowl and food bowl. Let me know what you like eat and I’ll make it for you. -smiling- 

Snow: Promise?

Jazzy: Mhm. -smiling-

Snow: Find. I’ll go. But I’m not going to be happy about it. 

Toothless: You’ll be find Snow. -jumping up to the bed- 

     Snow turned up her nose at Toothless, and curl up in between Sky and my pillows. I sense that Snow didn’t like Toothless that much. But I know they will be friends in no time. I went to shower and then start writing my report and catch up with my homework. I was so busy that I didn’t noticed that there was a knock on our bedroom door. Sky opened it and it was Mike. 

Sky: Dude, you’re not suppose to be on this floor. 

Mike: I know. But none of you answer your phones. So, I have no choice but to come knocking. 

Sky: Well, make it fast. What is it? Or we all going to be in trouble. 

Mike: Dinner’s ready. 

Sky: You could’ve scream that. We could’ve hear you. 

Mike: We have done enough screaming this week. 

Sky: True. We’ll be right down. 

Mike: Mhm. 

     Sky and I went downstairs to eat dinner. Then we did our usual routine and then we went back to our rooms. I finished the report and my homework. Sky was reading, Toothless and Snow was sleeping. I was about to go to bed when the alarms of the house went off. Snow freaked out by the sound, Toothless went on high alert with his hissing and growling. Sky and I ran downstairs with everyone else. We went outside and found the King himself trying to turn off our sensor alarms. Mike went to turn it off. 

Sky: Dad? What are you doing here?

King You: -sheepish- Sorry, I forgot the pass code. I’m here to talk to you guys. Sebastian isn’t at his usual spot. He probably went to eat dinner. 

Sebastian: -running towards us- Your Majesty! What are you doing here?

King You: I’m here to talk to them. I forgot the passcode. Sorry for tripping the alarm. 

Sebastian: Oh. It’s my fault I wasn’t at my spot. I was taking a shower. 

King You: It’s fine. Go finish your shower. I’ll just talk to the young ones. -smiling-

Sebastian: Yes, your majesty. -bowing- 

     Sebastian went back to his house to finish his shower. The King and the rest of us went back inside the house. Charlie gave King You some tea to drink and we all sat down in the Common Room. 

Sky: Dad, is something the matter?

King You: King Eric, contact me and he said that for now he wouldn’t declare war on Mythical Kingdom. But in the future he will declare war with us. 

Kelly: What?! Why?!

King You: Because King Eric still wants the Ultimate Prize. But he said that you guys got Snow, so he’s letting us with a warning. King Eric also said that Mythical Kingdom don’t have the Ultimate Prize, because he couldn’t feel it’s energy yesterday when he and his army was here. But he said that in the future the Ultimate Prize will be at Mythical Kingdom. 

Jazzy: -confused- Sorry. I don’t understand. What is the Ultimate Prize?

King You: The Ultimate Prize is not a what. It’s a whom. 

Jazzy: -confused- Huh?

King You: To simply put it. The Ultimate Prize is the Yin Yang Royal Couple. 

Jazzy: -shocked- What?! King Eric is after Sky and myself?! 

King You: Mhm. 

Jazzy: Why?

King You: Because if King Eric doesn’t destroy you and Sky. Then he won’t win. The Ultimate Prize is the heart of Mythical Kingdom. With it everyone and everything will be at peace. The Ultimate Prize is very powerful. The Oracle said that the Ultimate Prize is the only thing that would heal everything that is hurting. But you and Sky hasn’t have that much training. So, King Eric decided to give you the chance to train and grow. Then in the future he will have an even fighting field with you. 

Jazzy: What did I ever do to King Eric? For him to hate me so much. 

Kelly: Because you’re Sky’s soul mate. You two are the Royal Couple. 

Jazzy: -angry- That’s a stupid excuse. If I ever heard one. 

Sky: Ever since I was a kid, all the dark forces are after me. I rather die if it would make the dark forces stop looking for me and my love ones. 

King You: That’s why I never told Sky to Oracle Mansion when the Soul Searching Party. Because I didn’t want him to find his soul mate. Because I didn’t want both of you be the focus point of King Eric. 

Sarah: You’re protecting them. 

King You: Mhm. 

Jazzy: Your Majesty. You’re not being honest with me. Please tell me the whole truth. 

King You: Okay. The Ultimate Prize is the Yin Yang Royal Couple. The strongest couple there is. They are the guardians of Mythical Kingdom. A thousand years ago, Goddess and her love were the first Yin Yang Royal Couple. They would protect, heal, and fight what is right for Mythical Kingdom. All kinds of dark forces will always come after them, and try their hardest to bring them down. Each year there would be millions of wars between Mythical Kingdom and the dark forces. Each year more and more mythical creatures die along with the humans. But each time the Goddess and lover would defeat all the dark forces. After the wars Goddess and her lover would use their power to rebuild and heal everything and everyone. The sad thing about the Yin Yang Royal Couple is that when they use too much of their power, they become very weak and it takes them months or years to be fully recharge. The last dark forces was the ones take down Goddess and her lover when they were at it weakest. It was King Eric’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather who took down Goddess and her lover. 

Jazzy: Please don’t tell me that for Sky and I to be fully recharge is having sex after each war. 

King You: -laughing- Goodness no. The Queen and I don’t want a million grandchildren. The only why for Goddess and her lover to recharge was to go to the Healing Spring. They were about to go to the Healing Spring when they were attacked. The Healing Spring is the most powerful source of healing for anyone who need an emergency recharge. But if you use the Healing Spring too much it can lose it’s power. That’s why we don’t use the Healing Spring that often, because we have healers. Now, I don’t know how the Goddess and her lover use their powers to heal and rebuild things. But the Oracle did tell me that Goddess herself has the power of fire and her lover’s power is ice. Their combine power is wind. Also, the Goddess always have a black cat following her, and her lover always have a white cat following him. When the Goddess and her lover died, the black cat and white cat disappeared. When all four of them were gone Mythical Kingdom went down hill from there. 

Sky: Jazzy, and I aren’t safe. King Eric is waiting to attack us when Jazzy and I are strong enough. What if we don’t train? Would King Eric still come after us?

King You: It doesn’t matter. Whether you train or not. King Eric will still come after you. The only way King Eric won’t come after you is when you both chose not to use the Yin Yang Royal Couple powers. But I’m calling his bluff. To be honest with you all, King Eric isn’t going to stop hunting you both down until he destroys you both. Then we have to wait for another thousand years for a new Yin Yang Royal Couple. By then we will all be hunters or slaves. 

Kelly: -angry- That’s not fair! 

William: Kel, life isn’t always fair. 

Kelly: -angry- Well, we can protect them. We’ll train harder and we will protect Sky and Jazzy. If King Eric wants a war, then he’ll get a war. 

King You: You can’t always protect Sky and Jazzy forever. What are you going to do? Hide them in a cave for the rest of their lives. 

Jazzy: No one can protect Sky and I forever. But what King Eric doesn’t want is something that has to do with the Yin Yang Royal Couple and R.M.C. Hey Siri!

Siri: Yes. 

Jazzy: What happens when the Yin Yang Royal Couple and R.M.C. combine together?

Siri: When the Yin Yang Royal Couple and the R.M.C. come together they become the Ultimate Power. They are called Yin Yang Royal Mythical Court. A very powerful team that can help rebuild and heal everyone in the Mythical Kingdom. And destroy King Eric and his army. King Eric is most afraid of the Y.Y.R.M.C. Any questions?

Jazzy: No. Thanks Siri. 

Siri: No problem. Princess. 

Jazzy: Okay. Let’s get through the next 4 weeks. Sitting around and moping around isn’t going to help. If King Eric is afraid of Y.Y.R.M.C. then lets show him that we are not weaklings. Let him watch and see how strong we can be. 

Sarah: Can we actually do this?

Jazzy: We can do anything when we put our hearts into it, and never giving up. -smiling- 

Sky: Mhm. Okay, we have classes tomorrow. 

King You: Actually, you don’t have classes tomorrow. Because you’re on a mission. 

Sky: But we finish our mission. 

King You: I know. But after a mission you have the right to rest. So Sebastian already collected Jazzy’s report. I’ll be looking forward to be reading it. So tomorrow, just relax and do whatever you want. In the future there will be more missions to come. So don’t give up.  

Sebastian: Also, you don’t have to do any chores this weekend. 

Jazzy: Eek! -jumping out of my skin- 

Sebastian: Sorry. 

King You: -laughing- 

Jazzy: Can I make an request?

King You: Go ahead. 

Jazzy: From now on Sebastian can’t pop in and out while we’re in this house. He has to make some kind of sound. I don’t want him scaring me until I graduate. Or I might turn him into a toad. 

King You and Sky: -laughing- 

Jazzy: At least a toad would make some noise. 

Sky: Seb, you better do as she says. Otherwise, I think she will turn you into a toad. 

Sebastian: Yes, Princess. 

King You: Alright, I’m going home. Otherwise the Queen might think I’m with one of my mistresses. 

Everyone: Goodbye Your Majesty. 

      After the King left, Sebastian went back to his own home, and we went to bed. 

-End of Chapter Nineteen-

So, Tomb Raider: Angel of Darkness...

Warning, this is going to be a long-ass post, mostly me rambling about how TR6 was a game with good concepts but shitty execution. Expect a bit of non-linear ranting.

I have some serious Opinions™ on this game, now having finished it (which was a quasi-Herculean feat in of itself from fighting against the game the whole time, but more on that in a bit).

When I first got this game, eyes full of wonder and amazement, I was like “aw yeah, a new Tomb Raider for a new generation of consoles!”. Having only played it for a bit my opinion quickly soured, and the game was never played after having fallen down a hole and dying in the Parisian sewers. All I said to myself at the time was “wow, this game is shit,never playing this again :| .”

Which I didn’t, until recently.

Fast forward a bit, and a friend of mine lends me her PC copies of Tomb Raider 2-through-6 (sadly no copy of TR1  :’[ ), which I sat down and played, all while eyeing up the box containing AoD with animosity. Boy did I regret saying I wouldn’t mind if she lent me that one as well.

But after going through the other games with various degrees of ease, from the “wow it’s over already?” of Chronicles to the “Will it never end?” of TR3 (which I personally rate as the worst of the “old school” Tomb Raiders. Just....fuck that game, the best part of it is the credits, but I digress.), we were left with just one more game; Angel of Darkness, sitting there, almost expectantly.

“Well, it’s been a while, maybe I was just bad at the game, and it’s actually alright?” I said as I set about installing it, ready to give the game the benefit of the doubt.

Well the fact that controller setup was a pain in the arse should’ve been a dead giveaway that something was up. Though is was nowhere near as infuriating as Chronicles, which required a fucking JoyToKey configuration to get it to work smoothly, otherwise jumps would result in Lara just careening off to the side every.fucking.time.)

Actually, when you first play AoD, the controls are really the first thing you’ll pick up on. I.E: they’re the worst. Really they’re the biggest flaw of this whole game, and if they weren’t as clunky and gods-awful as they are, AoD might’ve been a much better experience. Lara controls like a fucking Mark IV from 1917; turns, speed, everything. It’s such a jarring shift from the previous installments that it really takes some time getting used to, and could be a reall deal-breaker. Also Lara no longer runs like she used to, more like a slow jog, only gaining the ability to sprint later in the game (you know, the thing she could do at the very beginning of TR3, 4 and 5? Like she has to learn how to use her legs, after all of her previous escapades?!). Jumping also seems to have undergone some hideous transformation; from somewhat fluid sequences to an absolutely jerky mess of a mechanic, not helped by Lara needing some space to build up momentum (from walk to jog). Like the only time she handles almost smoothly is when she’s swimming (which thank fuck no longer has her getting stuck on the walls and floor like she did in previous games.).

When you’re not busy fighting against the controls and some of the early Capcom-esque fixed camera angles, you might be able to notice some of the changes to the TR formula, for better or for worse.

Perhaps the most noticeable is Lara’s equipment; gone are her iconic (not Ubisoft iconic, mind you) pistols with unlimited ammo. In their place Lara can collect a plethora of new pistols, including a very nice taser. Though this is moot when Lara eventually loses all of her acquired weapons, as she is wont to do if TR1, 2 and 3 are anything to go by. You also get the classic shotgun and two SMGs. Though tbh, and this might just be me, but don’t all of the weapons in this game feel like the do the same amount of damage?

One thing that was a nice touch was the inventory revamp. The ring-like setup from previous TRs is gone, and now each type of item (health, weapons and puzzle clues) have their own inventory sections, making it less of an eyesore than the cluttered messes of the previous game’s inventories. Speaking of health, the repertoire of healing items has been increased, with various items granting various degrees of health restoration, which is nice, no more wasting medikits (though i do not understand how a chocolate bar could heal a person, but whatever, video game logic, i guess.). The puzzle clues section does get kinda cluttered though, as Lara doesn’t seem to want to get rid of anything she picks up, even if she no longer needs it, so her pockets are basically just full of security cards and bits of paper until the end of the game like JESUS CHRIST ON A STICK JUST DUMP THAT SHIT IN A BIN, LARA!”.

On the subject of puzzles, it’s great that that is an element that has carried over to AoD nicely, unlike some of the more modern titles (looking at you, Tomb Raider 2013). The Hall of Seasons was a great example of this, and is very reminiscent of the St Francis’ Folly from the original games, what with its God-themed rooms. Granted that there were other “puzzles” that were a little too obvious, like “push table to find mixture to kill giant plant”. But overall,  the puzzle side of Tomb Raider is definitely there. Although, there are no secrets to find (but after TR3 and 4′s “And your reward is FLARES” bullshit, I’m okay with that).

So, what about the story? To be perfectly honest, it’s as about as normal as a Tomb Raider story line can be: Secret sect looking for paintings so they can resurrect an ancient race of human/angel hybrids that was destroyed back in biblical times except not all of them, and Lara gets involved b/c they killed Von Croy and she was framed for it... Look, it’s certainly not as far-fetched as “Italian mafia dude looking for magic Chinese knife that turns people into dragons instead of corpses when stabbed with it.” (Love you, TR2, but what even...), or whatever the hell was going on in TR3 with its magical ancient Polynesian artifacts and “rapid evolution”, but it’s out there.

Mechanics wise, there have been some changes that are quite nice in concept, but are failed by poor execution (a running theme for this game). The grip meter is a new thing, and is influenced by Lara’s upper body strength (like how her jumping/sprinting and door-kicking are affected by her lower body strength), like a sort of RPG attribute. These body strength factors are a nice tough and could’ve been a plus in a good game, but here the attributes are given out at arbitrary moments throughout the game and feel forced, like at one moment Lara must gain an upper body strength upgrade by just shunting a pile of boxes around for no real reason. When you couple this with the sluggish momentum-based “running”, it’s almost like the developers were trying to go for a more “realistic” feel but didn’t really know how to go about it.

There’s also a certain Bioware-esque dialogue tree that pops up from time to time in the game. While it’s a nice touch, the fact that there’s no real change to the outcome (bar 3 exceptions) kind of makes the interactions pointless.

Going past the mechanics, the game itself (at least on PC), is a glitchy, buggy mess that would crash for no reason. Textures are missing, walls vanish in some of Kurtis’ (a boring, bland secondary character we get to play as, and I’ll get to him in a second.) levels for no reason, not to mention that one level can be skipped entirely thanks to a bug where Lara just has to roll into a fucking wall. Also, not certain if it’s more an exploit than it is a bug, but it’s kinda of an anticlimax that the last two bosses can be cheesed by just commando-crawling under their projectiles. The greatest menaces to humanity, outdone by toddler maneuvers .

Now, onto Kurtis...Kurtis is a member of an organisation dedicated to stomping out evil, particularly sorcery and alchemy (thus pitting him against the big baddie, Eckhardt, who looks like he just got done trying to audition for the part of Auron from Final Fantasy). He’s supposed to come across as some sort of bad boy with magical powers, but honestly he’s a boring, ugly, fucking Broody McGravelvoice with no personality. You get to play as him for all of 3 (or was it 4?) levels, and boy oh boy, you will hat him throughout all of them. Somehow, and I didn’t know it was possible, somehow he controls WORSE than Lara. He moves like he’s got a broom up his arse and jumps like he’s on the fucking moon. His levels feel like they were  some De-mastered edition of Until Dawn, full of enemies that serve no purpose other than to drain you of resources, and are capped off with the worst boss fight ever, thanks to twitchy auto-aim and Kurtis’ shoddy controls. Like fucking Mark Williard at  the end of TR3 was more feasible than this cavalcade of bullshit. Also the first time he meets Lara in the Louvre, the cut-scene is just so unsettling and creepy, she should’ve just beat his arse into the tiled floor there and then. I seriously hope he’s dead.

And the ending... What a bloody disappointment; Lara wanders off into a dark passage after killing the bigger bad, and then...nothing. No credits, no “the end” screen, the game just shits you back onto the “Press Start” screen.

But in the end, after all was said and done, I think my opinion of AoD has shifted somewhat. I don’t hate it like I thought I did, I’m just, I dunno, disappointed...This game had so many good ideas that were handled so poorly, and it certainly wasn’t helped that, at least on the PC version, it was a glitch-fest and the controls were piss-poor. And as a final insult? Jiggle physics. I’m not fucking kidding like Core Design  couldn’t iron out the bugs and do something about the arse-backwards controls, but they gotta make sure dem jiggly titties are in there? -_-’ Fucking hell what a dumpster fire of a game. Like I want to like it but the fuck-headedness of it all just, just no. 

hi guys. not doin too hot. and by “not doin too hot” i mean “I AM TOO HOT OH GOD WHY”

don’t worry. when i realized i would not be able to fix the ac myself (at like 8:30 pm) i put in a maintenance request. so hopefully that will be fixed tomorrow or friday. again.

i feel bad putting in so many orders but like, 58 degrees is too cold and 80 degrees is too hot. please. i’m not THAT picky but it’s so much and i’m sweating all over my papers and i can’t tell if poor snoopy is uncomfortable or not. she spends a whole lotta time by where i have the fan on by an open window.

it doesn’t cool off my desk/bed area but at least my kitchen is a nice temperature.

when my alarm went off i realized that i just... did not sleep very much. i had bad dreams but i don’t remember enough about them to say why. i ended up skipping my first class to try to get SOME sleep but unfortunately i just laid there with my eyes closed feeling hot and miserable for 40 minutes. i was so pokey getting ready for school that i was actually late for my second class despite getting up with more time to get ready than usual.

i took notes on my ipad. it was nice. i like the line sensitivity. i picked up my pen from the mail room in the afternoon so now i can write more than four words per line too.

keegan and harrison and i got spaghetti lunch and then i went to my doctor’s appointment. the doctor took a look at my throat and lungs and stuff and said everything seemed fine but i could take some allergy medication that might help it clear up faster. so i did that. also my other problem with the birth control is ok if it happens once. if it happens three times in a row there’s gonna be a problem but otherwise between missing a day (even though i caught up) and all the stress and getting sick it could be anything.

the allergy medication also serves as a sleep aid and anti anxiety medication so she said if it works i could use it for the whole month or when i start sleeping normally again and if it doesn’t work to just stop usin it and don’t worry about it.

i helped ammar and rebika and luis get set up with the printer network in our building after a lot of hassle with my computer. luis and taylor were talking so loud that i couldn’t think at all and harrison was getting annoyed because i wasn’t using any of the convenient tools that computers have like search functions.

and i took my accommodation letters to both my professors and hashed out the test plan with them. my stat mech professor invited me to sit for a while and then... blocked the door with his chair. i don’t think he did it on purpose but I NOTICED. i got antsy immediately and i couldn’t seem to find a good opportunity in the conversation to leave.

i doubled my score on the prelims! now i have a 22/120 instead of, like, a 10. all i gotta do to pass is get up to ~60 though. but it was a DEFINITE improvement. i feel conflicted about it. on the one hand, i did double my score and that’s really impressive. on the other hand, the score is still total garbage and kind of embarrassing if it wasn’t already incredibly well established that i am really bad at taking tests no matter how well i know the material.

hopefully next time i won’t have the worst and longest cold ever.

i ended up spending like 2 hours hanging out with harrison and drawing on his blackboard. he said i draw really fast when i did a blue in about 30 seconds and i said “yes i’ve always drawn abnormally fast.” i did some base shape stuff with him and he showed me one of the symbols he’d been working on. 

jennica wandered in at one point to talk about the em homework and i was gonna die. “what is that?” she asked. “harrison is teaching me how to draw,” i said. i knew that she knew it was total bs because i was holding the chalk and had been drawing when she came in so i made a big deal out of saying over and over that i definitely wasn’t the one drawing. i think she understood it was a joke.

i biked home and picked up my mail and ran a quick errand (the corner store doesn’t carry the item i want any more so that’s a bummer. i’m gonna have to figure out what i want to do about that. the cashier said they might start ordering it again). i fiddled around with the ac trying to get one of the buttons to do the thing i want but it doesn’t seem interested in doing anything but blowing hot air into my apartment. i made some dinner while i did my dishes... i was out of plates. 

i should be drinking more tea but hot drinks just really don’t appeal to me right now.

then i sat down and started drawing. it took like an hour and a half to do three panels out of the seven on this one page. i had made my boards too crowded because i drew too big so i had to take pictures of my pages, load them up on my computer screen, and then erase my work and redraw each panel with everything a little bit smaller. it would have been fine except IT’S SO HOT AND IT’S SO HARD NOT TO SMUDGE MY LIGHTER LINES TO HELL.

snoopy was a little more active than usual today, at least when she was “hunting” for her cookies. i put them in slightly more out of the way places than usual and it looks like she got all of them in about ten minutes. i’m going to have to bump up the difficulty for her just a bit. though earlier i noticed that if i hide her cookies in places that require using her paws to get them out she won’t do it even if they are easily visible. 

maybe getting all those mats off her underside improved her mood. seeing just how much fur got shaved off her stomach, it was probably really hindering her movement.

a good thing todayyyyyy isssssss while i was waiting for the doctor i wrote a whole bunch of notes about nastasia. since my classmates’ em period starts 2 hours earlier this semester i got to the doctor’s office about 40 minutes before my appointment so i just settled into a chair and grabbed my phone and started typing. i’m working really hard to give these characters a common thread and i think it fits pretty well with the general theme of the story. i don’t know if i’m laying it on too thick or not though. it’s hard to write drafts for comics except for the individual scenes you’re currently setting up. i can’t go back and change the beginning because it’s done and uploaded. all i can do is adjust the current page.

so that’s a challenge!!!

it’s fun that having a group of characters with different manifestations of the same flaw creates such a disaster though. count bleck is such a dumpster fire. 

(i am also a dumpster fire and i write characters that are almost exclusively trash man level of emotional maturify)

GAAHHHHH IT’S GONNA BE 80 DEGREES TOMORROW??? THAT’S THE EARLY JANUARY WEATHER I WANT TO SEE!!!!!!

ok anyway it’s 10:45 now so i should probably start thinking about maybe getting ready for bed sometime. i’m so tired. but i really, really don’t want to sleep. i’m so tired of nightmares.

a good thing that i like about myself maybe is, uh, i’ve been working harder at following up with people lately. i was doing it before, but now i’m trying harder to make sure i ask people how a thing went if they bring it up earlier. like suzanne’s cousins are visiting today. i dunno. suzanne seemed impressed that i remembered, last time i did it with her. but now i don’t remember what it was i had asked her about!! i’m trying to find more ways to show people i care, i guess. as i get more and more sleep deprived though i am getting less good at remembering things to bring up in my conversations.