This blog is for drafts, oc stuff, and smut ideas and basically any writing stuff thats not polished enough to go on my main writing blog. Some links below the read more.
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Delilah O'Grady is a socialite, quite adept at maneuvring through the politics and culture of the upper class and criminal underbelly until the Great War. Wakes up 200 years later to a wasteland that does not care about her social acumen.
Jo is a human-cyborg searching for purpose and peace after surviving a violent attack. She thinks she might find it on the Rho-7 space station.
âGeneral
Full name: Jo "Jo-7" Better-Angels
Age: 25
Birthday: tbd; (au that doesn't adhere to the gregorian calendar)
Nationality: Rho-Quadrant Human, Spacer
Gender Identity: Cis, mostly
Sexuality: Omni
Preferred pronouns: she/they
Languages: Common language, Spacer dialect
Accent: tbd
Occupation/Profession: Pilot and jack of all trades on MV Better-Angels, belonging to a larger family owned fleet known publicly as Kravchenko Logistics.
âAppearance
Hair: Dark brown curly hair (long prior to accident, short cropped after)
Eyes: Brown
Skin: White
Facial Features: tbd
Height: prior to accident, 5'6, after, dependant on parts. On average her artificial legs make her 5'9
Weight: prior to accident, 175 lbs, after, dependant on parts. On average, 275 lbs.
Tattoos: I fear they got blasted away with the rest of her, but she decorates her artificial parts as it suits her.
Face Claim: Tatiana Maslany
âRelationships
Parents: Hazel, Opal, and Dex
Siblings: Fern (Brother)
Significant Others: tbd, Librarian
Pets: Air-vent (a robot companion she built)
âPersonality
Traits: tbd
Alignment: Chaotic good
Temperament: tbd
Expressiveness: tbd
Anger Expression: tbd
âHealth
Physical: OK BUT NOT GREAT. Due to a violent attack on her home ship (just shy of her 19th birthday), the majority of her body is replaced with cybernetic implants and artificial parts. Issues with shoddy aftermarket parts damages her body, meaning biologically all that's left is her head, shoulders, and most of her torso. Has some lingering phantom pain. Some real pain. Often confusing signals where biology and artificial parts meet. Is on a strict nutrition/medicine cocktail.
Mental: Ditto. Has PTSD, depressive bouts.
Fitness: Dependent on cybernetic implants.
Vices/Bad Habits: Experimenting on herself, finding out the extent of her artificial parts capabilities. Has a fear of losing the remains of her biological body, but at the same time does not always properly care for it.
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Yeoman Wright lives and works on Gagarin Station as a Cerberus threat unravels. She prides herself in her work, is very particular with her responsibilities, and starts to notice discrepancies. Has to seek out her rival for help.
â General
Full name: Morgan Wright
Nicknames & Aliases: tbd
Age: 26
Birthday: 2157 CE
Nationality: Alliance Spacer, parents are English
Gender Identity: Cisgender
Sexuality: Pansexual
Preferred pronouns: she/her
Languages: English, Chinese Mandarin, outfitted with a universal translator
Accent: British
Occupation & Profession: Alliance Navy Liaison, Yeoman
â Appearance
Hair: Black
Eyes: Black
Skin: Dark Brown
Facial features: Thick eyebrows, large eyes, high cheekbones
Height: 5'9
Weight: 190 lbs
Piercings: Currently, only lobes
Tattoos: Designs based off an ancient astrology map in illustrative tattoo style, on her back and arms
Face Claim: Lashana Lynch
â Relationships
Parents: Imani & Shanice Wright
Siblings: Beryl, Celia
Significant Others: tbd
Pets: A stowaway pyjak has more or less adopted her, she calls him Mouse.
Expressiveness: has learned to be exaggerated in how she emotes while at work as a way to not be misunderstood, but naturally she's a deep thinker and is slow to react. Even speak sometimes. She'll text you hours later to tell you how funny your joke was, how happy she feels for your promotion etc
Anger Expression: When Morgan gets overly complimentary and polite, you know you've fucked up.
â Health
Physical: Healthy, average
Mental: Agoraphobic, pertaining to anything planetside
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Rhian's family tried hiding her the best they could, but the templars find out about her magic and bring her to the Circle on her 10th birthday. Always a curious soul, her curiosity causes no small amount of grief at the Circle and she spends her days waiting for a chance to escape.
â General
Full name: Rhian Marshe
Nicknames & Aliases: Sister Madalena
Age: 24
Birthday: 7th day of Cloudreach
Nationality: Ferelden
Gender Identity: Transgender
Sexuality: Bisexual
Preferred pronouns: she/her
Languages: Common tongue (fluent), Orlesian (fluent)
Accent: Ferelden
Occupation & Profession: Circle mage, formerly. Chantry sister, currently.
â Appearance
Hair: Black
Eyes: Grey
Skin: White
Facial features: Dark circles under eyes, ghostly complexion
Height: 5'8
Weight: 155 lbs
Scars: Cuts on back and stomach from torture at Circle
Kalus was a spectre agent caught up in the Relay 314 Incident (called the First Contact War by humans). On his way to the Citadel to discuss findings with other spectres, an apparent accident leaves him stranded on an uninhabited planet.
â General
Full name: Kalus Viator
Nicknames & Aliases: Redacted
Age: 44
Birthday: 2119 CE
Nationality: Born and raised on Palaven (Turian)
Gender Identity: Cisgender
Sexuality: Bisexual
Preferred pronouns: he/him
Languages: Turian (fluent), asari and salarian trade dialects (limited), English (knows a handful of words, but has difficulties speaking it), has a universal translator
Accent: Cipritine accent
Occupation & Profession: Spectre and former Blackwatch member. Involved more in the intelligence and infiltration side than the spec ops side.
â Appearance
Hair Crest: Silvery brown
Eyes: Grey
Skin: Rich brown
Facial features: Larger than normal mandibles, wide bridge of his nose
Height: 7'3
Weight: 332 lbs
Scars: Several knife fight and burn scars. Two of the spikes from his crest have been visibly split and lifted from his head, and been surgically corrected.
Current moods: On average, even-tempered, controlled. When angered, blunt and impatient
Anger Expression: Snarls, mandibles flatten against his face, gets real quiet when heâs truly angry, no noise, only action
â Health
Physical: Mild malnutrition, length of isolation has left him with some trauma, mainly taking the form of dissociation (more specifically depersonalization)
Fitness: In shape
Vices/Bad Habits: Was addicted to uppers/stim pre-Stranded, now it's just turian moonshine. Prioritizes work over life. Nosy as fuck, but acts like it's intel gathering. Lust??? Bit of a xenophile(is this right term???), not quite in a fetishistic way, but curious to a fault, and sex is on his list of curiosities
After university, Andromeda planned to help develop agricultural colonies out past Shanxi, but the discovery that humans aren't alone in the universe puts her life on hold. She's working a dead end job for Sirta when an apparent accident has her stranded on an uninhabited world.
â General
Full name: Andromeda Smith
Nicknames & Aliases: Andi
Age: 27
Birthday: 2137 CE
Nationality: Spacer, formerly of the coalition of United North American States (UNAS)
Gender Identity: Cisgender
Sexuality: Omnisexual
Preferred pronouns: she/her
Languages: English (fluent), French (conversational), Spanish (conversational), has universal translator
Accent: Neutral
Occupation & Profession: Pilot/technician for medical shipping/logistics company contracted to Sirta.
â Appearance
Hair: purple, with blond roots showing
Eyes: Brown
Skin: Tan
Facial features: Double chin, chubby cheeks
Height: 5'5
Weight: 240lbs
Scars: Extensive surgical scars, went to have standard cybernetic implants (translator, haptic, etc) but they were originally rejected. Had to have multiple surgeries to correct the issue.
Piercings: Septum, nose, 1st and 2nd lobe, helix
Tattoos: Is on wait list to surgically remove the worst of her scars, in the meantime is getting tattoos to cover them up.
Face Claim: TBD
â Relationships
Parents: Paul & Ana Smith
Siblings: Tomas
Friends: Had a handful of close friends going into university, after the events of the First Contact war, three of them are assigned to the diplomat team to the citadel in various roles. Two of them join the Alliance navy.
Significant Others: (*Polyamorous), Kalus Viator
Pets: A cat named Marshmallow
â Personality
Traits: Obsessive, anxious, curious, determined
Alignment: Neutral good
Temperament: Melancholic
Expressiveness: Doesnât hold in her emotions. Has no sense of locking it down, when sheâs happy she's laughing and singing and boisterous. When sheâs angry sheâs ranting and word vomiting and pacing. Unable to hide her expressions or body language.
Current moods: SCARED
Anger Expression: When she gets real angry, she kinda loses situational awareness? Sheâll end up hurting herself through carelessness.
â Health
Physical: Body rejected cybernetic implants and standard body modifications, causing her to have noticeable scars that do cause occasional pain.
Harriet doesn't remember her whole childhood, but every once in awhile a memory sneaks up on her. She's infamous in her hometown for having vanished as a child, only to be found a week later wandering the Mount Rainier National Park. Harriet's keen on leaving the area behind to live someplace where this childhood incident doesn't define her. Unfortunately the visions follow.
â General
Full name: Harriet Lalu
Nicknames & Aliases: Harry
Age: 26
Birthday: Sept 19
Nationality: American
Gender Identity: Cisgender
Sexuality: Bi/demi
Preferred pronouns: she/her
Languages: English (fluent), Malayalam (conversational), French (limited)
Accent: PNW
Occupation & Profession: Archivist & Researcher
â Appearance
Hair: Black
Eyes: Dark Brown
Skin: Brown
Facial features: Wide eyes, full lips, nose with a high bridge, beauty mark under her eye
Height: 5'7
Weight: 161 lbs
Scars: A faint scar at the back of her neck, and one just below her belly button. No recollection of how they got there.
Piercings: Multiple; two in lobe, nose and septum
Glasses: Yes, nearsighted.
Face Claim: Varada Sethu
â Relationships
Parents: Madhuri Lalu, Owain Bailey
Siblings: Navin Bailey
Friends: Best friend is Prema (Prem), who runs a community art studio and art collective in Seattle.
Significant Others: Alex Keller
Pets: Calico cat named Card Catalogue
â Personality
Traits: Fidgety, Earnest, Curious
Alignment: Neutral Good
Temperament: Melancholic
Expressiveness: Very internal, not very reactive. Not in a shy way, she just sits and thinks and thinks and thinks.
Current moods: A constant state of yearning, but she likes to pretend sheâs content.
Anger Expression: Gets real quiet, doesnât engage, until something tips her over and then she blows up.
â Health
Physical: Has frequent headaches that a ~specialist~ treats.
Fitness: Average.
Family history: Diabetes
Other: a functioning haphephobe
Vices/Bad Habits: Curious to a fault. Nosy too. Will spend hours deciphering social media comments to get to the source of random internet drama. Video games hyperfixations.
Bug is kicked out of home as a teenager, and ends up in Hereford looking for work. Gets hired by the owners of a local funeral home who end up taking her under their wing. Still, wanting more and unable to afford trades college or a higher education, finds herself at an army recruitment office.
â General
Full name: Mererid Jones
Nicknames & Aliases: Bug
Age: 35
Birthday: April 20
Nationality: Welsh
Gender Identity: Cisgender
Sexuality: Bisexual
Preferred pronouns: she/her
Languages: English (fluent), Welsh (reads, limited speaking)
Accent: Welsh
Occupation & Profession: Team lead role with the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers in the UK Army.
â Appearance
Hair: Ginger, curly
Eyes: Hazel brown
Skin: White
Facial features: Dark, heavy freckles spread over entire body, gap in between two front teeth
Height: 5â8
Weight: 180 lbs
Scars: Has burn marks across knuckles and forearms, work related. Got a few stitches from injuries as a kid.
Piercings: Currently, just a single earring in each ear. Had many more during her edgy mid 2000s teenager phase.
Tattoos: generic ones got while drunk, one personal one I haven't figured out the design for yet.
Face Claim: This constantly changes. I like the above pic of Natasha Lyonne, but itâs more for the attitude.
â Relationships
Parents: Boyd and SiĂąn Jones
Siblings: Dylan Jones
Friends: Best friends to Agnes and Lavinia, owners of the local funeral home.
Significant Others: John Price
Pets: By proxy, a dog called Tolstoy, and a semi-feral cat she calls Jackass.
Expressiveness: Very expressive. Thereâs no guessing what sheâs feeling. Is not discrete with her feelings.
Current moods: Mostly content, but with an asterisk. Now that sheâs in a serious relationship and nearing her 40s the subject of retirement from the army is a serious question, one she doesnât know how to talk about yet.
Anger Expression: Very loud and brash, but cools off really quick.
â Health
Physical: Mild rheumatoid arthritis, but is stubborn and convincing herself itâs just normal aches from being in her 30s
Fitness: Other than the above, healthy, in shape.
Family history: Osteoporosis, cataracts.
Vices/Bad Habits: Will share a cigarette/cigar once in awhile, but prefers a joint. Drinks often, but not to the point of drunkenness.
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I had a dream A*tivision announced that Soap was coming back for the next game as Gaz's boyfriend after everyone commented resurrect the gays on every official cod post.
Guys, imagine having such a mundane dream about the war propaganda game. Embarrassing. Anyways, here's some disgusting boring soapgaz fluff I would write if I had the time:
Everyone's crashed at a pub, both Gaz an Soap are being a bit flirty with everyone. Soap keeps asking how much money it would take for any of the others to kiss him. No one's taking the bait until Gaz says it'll cost their tab, he says it with that cheeky, charming grin of his. Soap gets pissy until Gaz plants one right on his lips. Tells him it's incentive .
Also is there anything better than people tumbling around while play boxing/wrestling. Just them being playful with each other until it's more than that. Idc how overdone it is, sparring -> heated looks -> making out, will always be elite. Like.. just imagine Soap pinning Gaz and intrusive thought wins, so he kisses him right on his cheek scar. Gaz uses this distraction to flip him over and straddle him SIGHHHHHHHHHHHH
Soap's off duty plans get dashed and on a lark Gaz invites him to come home with him. He's heading to his hometown, it's a whole family beach weekend, soap gets conscripted to haul the chairs/coolers/charcoal for the barbeques. Hits it off great with the fam (course he does).
Sorry a new idea just took over this whole list. Retired husbands Gaz and Soap. Maybe in their 50s. Arthritic grizzled ole bastards. But I like the idea of them having a shared hobby of rebuilding classic cars and showing them off at car shows. Theyâre having troubles with this recent one so Gaz has invited Simon over. They have a playful argument because Gaz and Simon used to rebuild motorcycle engines together during off-duty in their younger years. Johnny isnât upset per se, but perhaps is nursing a bit of healthy jealousy. He claims itâs because if Simon helps build the engine, heâll say it gives him rights to drive the vehicle, and âthat fat headed muppet never saw a nice car he wouldnât crashâ.
this is so self indulgent of me to ask but let me embarrass myself by asking for tummy kisses for Prem and Bug
FGSGHSH I LOVE YOU POSH. I'm sorry this took so long - Christ I feel so rusty - and the ending is a blunt as a gunshot, but I THINK IT'S CUTE and I hope I didn't butcher Bug too much đđ„č
Prem is taller than Bug. Thatâs a fact of nature. Even on flat-feet, Premâs a good five inches taller. But. Shit. Sheâs got this pair of five inch Louboutin heelsâthe fuckinâ sharp-anâ-pointy kind, flashy black patent leather, with those retina-searinâ red bottoms Bugâd only seen in magazine pages until Prem had pulled âem out of her luggage.Â
She wears them with a Barbie Doll heel foot on her prosthetic, walkinâ well balanced with a sleek, dark-oiled teak cane with the silver head of a mallard for a handle. Looks a bit vampiric, but not in a bad way. Sort of way that makes Bugâs mouth run dry, and reach for Priceâs sipping whiskey to quench her pinching-parched throat.
âMm?â the man hums, rubbing his recently trimmed beard, following her eyes, and then he gets that fuckinâ pinched up, pleased smirk on his face, like he knows somethinâ about somethinâ. âYeah. The heels always have me fucked up, too.â
âPiss right off,â Bug grunts, taking his glass in full, and he only chuckles to himself, joining her in watching Prem swim her way through the gallery show. Feels strange to Bug, a bit, to see Premâs death masks mounted on black grids of metal, lit harsh and bright from above with studio track lampsâbut by no means wrong. No, more was like seeing an old friend finally finding a place they belonged. Been on the womanâs ass long enough to get her to agree to a show.Â
Premâtrue to her callsign, Premonition, the woman that sees the future and all that lies hiddenâmust feel the eyes on her, because she turns her head to look over a sleek shoulder, and a smile warps her painted-burgundy lips. She lifts a hand and waves with a little wiggle of her ring finger, right at her.
Bug can just feel Price making that goddamned quokka face again, staring dead at the side of her face. She swills the giant cube of ice around the dregs of his whiskey, and she jabs him where it smarts, but only a bit, âThink Soapâs gone and let your mutt get picked up by the RSPCA yet? Or you think heâs still wanderinâ some back road like a bum?
Price shakes his head. âNah. Dogâs fine, probably making moon-eyes at Bordelon,â he starts, but he shrugs his shoulders with a thoughtful look, âSoapâs probably up with Agnes trying to dust her crypt.â
âOh, you dirty old fuck,â Bug snorts, pulling a face of disgust, âAgnesâs taste is so much better than that. Disgusting youâd even suggest that.â
âMhmm,â Price purrs, leaning back against the bar, resting a hand on the small of her back, rubbing his blunt fingers into the small pad of soft pudge he finds there.
+
Prem is the one to pinch Priceâs jaw, giving it a good jiggle around eleven, when the crowdâs gotten thicker with the hipster art scene rats, and she can no longer functionally give a fuck about showing face. âJohn. My darling. My dear love. My...sweetest, closeted Nine Inch Nails boyââ
âFuckâs sake,â he grunts, jiggled.
ââcan you please, please find us some good scran?â she finishes, leaning heavily on her cane, her weight bent toward Bugâs figure. He rolls his eyes, but thereâs a smirk pulling at his mouth under the chopsâjust a little one, like itâs a bit shy of showing itself. Prem knows sheâs won the moment she sees it, pulling him in for a *pap!* of a kiss before giving his cheek a chummy clap. âGood man, crack on.â
Bug slides right into Premâs free side, sliding an arm around the womanâs waist as one of Premâs snakes around her shoulders. âSo, what was the trick for pullinâ that off, eh? He gives me all sorts aâshit when I try to boss him,â Bug laughs, sinking into the scent of Premâs perfume.
âYâjust have to get his dick a little bit hard, thatâs all,â Prem hums in return, waggling her brows. âYouâre a dabhand at it, yâknow? Just gotta harness it, eh.â
âOoh, Iâll have to practice on that then, wonât I?â Bug is beaming, and she knows it. Doesnât try to hide it, either. Neither does she try to hide the way that she keeps glancing at Premâs lips when she looks up into her face, tugging her toward down the sidewalk in the direction of their hotel.
Premâs eyesâalready dark under the streetlamps, wet and deep like pools of inkâgo half-lidded, and she dips her head, tucking her nose under Bugâs heavy mane of curls. Fuckinâ embarassinâ it is, how fast Bug grows wet between the legs as she feels Premâs lips pressinâ slow and warm against her neck, where the print of her lipstick will remain hidden.
âMm,â Prem begins to murmur, âwanted to do that feck-off bad all night. Kept seeinâ you and John standinâ together, and donât know whatâs wrong with me.â Her eyes squeeze tight, still breathing against Bugâs skin. âCouldnât stop thinkinâ about watchinâ you two fuck the daylights out of each other. Him on top, feckinâ you all slow, and hardââ
âOh, for fuckâs sake,â Bug barks with laughter, shaking her head, yoking Premâs throat loosely in her hand, pushing her back a bit, burning head to toe with a bright flush and a thumping desire that starts in her cunt and booms out to her fingers, toes and lashes. âCanât even wait âtil weâre back in the hotel, huh? We got you in that bad of a way?â
âAlways!â Prem sniffs, grinning.
+
Thereâs only a single lamp on in the room, and Prem is wearing only her prosthetic, and her panties, with a tube of her lipstick tucked in the band. Demon of a woman had the gall to let Bug get all the way dressed down to one of Priceâs black t-shirts and her drawers before she made her move. Bug had to admit, thoughâgood fuckinâ move, that one. Might have to tuck it in her own pocket for later.
Bug snorts as Premâs hands slide up to her hips, gripping the softness she finds there, and deeper, until her fingertips knead tight muscles. Bugâs hands slide directly to the womanâs neck, resting with her thumbs over the pulsepoint, urging her down to kiss, and Prem falls right into the trajectory of it.
âOh, aw, feck,â Prem laughs, pulling back from Bugâs lips, and the remorse sounds utterly put-on, âIâve gone and shitted up your face. Look at you, youâre all smudgy. Didnât mean to do all that.â
âAnd youâre a shit liar, darlinâ,â Bug tosses back, feeling wild as she runs wide-open, letting Prem move her back to the bed, urging her up onto the pillows.
âYeahhhâyouâre right.â Prem has the audacity to fuckinâ giggle, burying her face against Bugâs neck once again, sliding between her spread legs, her hands moving farther up Bugâs shirt, savoring the soft curve of her waist, the structure of her ribs. But, goddamn, does she touch Bug as if considering her angles and construction like a well fine piece of art, wanting to pick up the techniques to copy into her own repertoire.
Up trails Bugâs shirt, a slow and subtle climb as Prem cups her breasts, rolling her nipples beneath her thumbs, pinching and tugging them slightly. Her grinâs impossible for Bug to ignore as her lips press more and more burgundy prints into her skin, and they both just find themselves laughing for no reason at all apart from sheer delight.
Premâs knee slides up, coaxing Bugâs legs further open, and Bug sighs heatedly with the move, letting Prem push her shirt up over her breasts. âYouâre a wicked-ass little thing,â she accuses, and Prem nods in emphatic agreement as she begins to kiss Bugâs freckled sternum.
She's kissed Bug's breasts, teasing her nipples with her soft, warm tongue, leaving behind prints of burgundy lips on the areola, the bottom swells, the top. Made herself right at home, groping Bug's hips tight before she leans up enough up to smart-ass-casual swipe more color onto her mouth, leaving Bug squirming and laughing under her. It only turns into a cackle when Prem dips to her stomach, kissing a belt across her waist, her bellybutton (where she dips her tongue, causing Bug to howl a surprised laugh and buck), and justâall over.
Makes Bug's head swim, it does. âThink you're just showinâ off at this point, sweetheart,â she snorts, brushing her fingers over Prem's short curls, slipping down to draw nonsense over the nape of her neck.
âOh, no,â Prem hums, and Bug can feel her grin as it meets her hip, âam just stallinâ forâŠâ
The door of the hotel room groans open, and Price's heavy steps are unmistakable alongside the shuffle of a paper bag in his arms, and the wrestling-out flap of his fleece lined denim jacket snapping. He doesn't stop what he's doing, but he sure takes a long look, and Bug can't help but grin wide under crinkled eyes and stick her tongue between her teeth as she gives a little wave. âHi,â she says, simple as can be.Â
Price drops the bag on the empty dresserâ they'll find out in an hour or two he'd somehow managed to find cut italian hoagies by some miracleâand he sits on the other bed, looking at them as he unlaces his boots. Prem kicks her feet up in the air, crossing them at the ankles while she pressed her cheek to Bug's belly.Â
âAm I early or late?â he grunts.
âCourse he don't wonder if he's invited,â Bug teases, but she continues to smile. They've all three caught each other in compromising enough positions to play grab-ass about itâPrice is the only one that acts caught when it happens.Â
âActually,â Prem sighs, rising to her knees in a well practiced movement, sliding forward to kiss Bug's lips as she goes, âyou're right on time.â
Prem's got the audacity to sneak launch a playful clap between Bug's legsâover her soaked, but clothed crotchâearning herself one wicked bark of indignation and a swat at her arm for making Bug's neglected pussy throb. But Prem continues regardless, ordering lightly, âGet your shite-arse over here and eat her. Poor thing's tremblinâ.â
RAGS OMG RAGSSSSS IM TRYING TO ORGANIZE MY BLOGS AND I WAS REREADING THIS WHILE PUTTING IT WITH THE OTHER BUG FICS. RAGSSSSSSS IT STILL TAKES MY BREATH AWAY. I LOVE YOU PLEAS MARRY ME AND KISS ME SLOPPY STYLE
MY HAIR ON FIRE. MY HEART RACING. AMI EARLY OR LATE?đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„đ„đđđđđđđđșđđâĄâĄâĄâĄđđđđđđđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠGRILLA NOISES ALL OVER. I LOVE YOU FOREVER FOR THIS. FIVEEVER
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