#I hate removing my contact lenses

[abbeyofcyn]

Contact lenses

[sadiehasaheart]

i dunno but smt about elle not removing her glasses when she's going to prom makes me tear up a bit bc as a person that has to wear glasses and can't bear the idea of contact lenses I always hated the trope "she removes her glasses and now she's stunning". i wanna keep my glasses and i wanna feel pretty at the same time and elle shows us that that's possible and i know it's a small thing but now i'm emotional about it

[techs-goggles9902]

Can you do at Tech lives fan-fic (like if Tech is CX-2)??

CX-2 is all that remains

Warnings: prosthetic stuff, mentions of blood and stuff, contact lenses 💀 scars and stuff, bacta usage, memory issues (ik nothing super bad but what if you had a fear of contacts??) TBB SPOILERS

Word count: 1457 (WHOA I WENT OVERBOARD)

A/N: IM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG ANON. I genuinely love the bad batch but I HATE WRITING THEM SOMETIMES 😭 I feel like I’m butchering their characters. But I gotchuuuuu!!! Lmk if I should continue this.

Requests are open! See Masterlist for details!!!!

IMPORTANT NOTE: some of this was supposed to be italicized but my copy and pasting removes it, so some of this stuff are their thoughts. Just an FYI

“You recognized it, too,” Hunter whispers to Crosshair as the group hurries up the rocks.

”I did. You said he died on Eriadu,” the sniper replies in a low mumble.

“He did… Wrecker watched him fall.”

”Well, obviously he survived. Next move?”

”Follow through with the plan, Cross. I’ll have Echo double back and take us down there.”

”But… it’s him?”

Hunter pauses. When he speaks, his voice cracks, “Tech’s alive. And with the Empire.”

Tech - no, CX-2! He had to get used to that - needs to get out of the water, and fast. The current pulls at him as he grips a narrow rock beneath the surface.

His helmet can only keep him alive for so long, he needs air sooner rather than later.

This isn’t ideal. The cybernetics will never last if their circuits are drenched.

His slender fingers lose their grip on the rock. One, two, three. The Shadow loses his grip entirely, his gloves ripped apart at the seams as the sharp ridges cut into the calloused flesh of his fingers.

The current throws him back into another rock, his backpack absorbing most of the impact.

There, he thinks as the water starts to seep into his body suit, I just need to make it to that ledge and my odds of survival increase significantly.

He feels his cybernetics digging into the tender flesh of his legs. The part where the river meets land was so close, yet so far. Reaching out a bloody hand, his shredded fingers are met with rough sediment.

Finally…

”Echo, Rex, please. It’s him! I feel it,” Hunter says, trying to keep Echo from making the jump into hyperspace.

“Hunter, what if it’s n-”

”Rex, your buddy isn’t coming after us. He let us go. There’s no risk in going down there,” Crosshair cuts in. Echo and Rex glance at each other.

Rex, Echo’s expression says, what if…

Echo, Rex’s body language reads, you said it yourself. He’s gone.

You didn’t give up on me.

Rex’s gaze softens. “Fine. You have ten minutes.”

Hunter lets out a breath, clasping Rex’s shoulder. He says, “I owe you.”

”You owe me a lot, Sarge.”

Echo lands the ship just off the riverbank but is still hidden in the trees in case Wolffe changes his mind. The ramp opens with a soft hiss and plants itself on the rocks with a gentle thud. The river laps against the rocks like white noise, the water running down the cliff adds to the effect.

And there, lying on the rocks, still half in the water, lies the Shadow. Barely conscious and panting, his bloodied fingers groping the sediment.

“Maker… Gregor, get the med kit!” Echo yells back into the ship as Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker trip over themselves to get down to the riverbank.

“Shit… Hunter, is he…” Wrecker asks in a low tone, kneeling down beside the semiconscious clone.

“His heart’s beating,” the sergeant replies.

“Damn… Wrecker, can you get him on the ship? Gently?” Echo asks, leaning down to check the assassin’s pulse.

“I got him.” Wrecker slowly turns the clone onto his back and snakes an arm beneath his knees and back. “I gotcha, I gotcha…”

CX-2 feels himself being lifted up off the ground, his helmet removed, his head resting on someone’s shoulder plate. He hears voices calling out to him, hands lowering him down onto something somewhat comfortable. A bunk?

His armor taken off his wet bodysuit, said bodysuit is either peeled or cut away from his body.

“Cybernetics aren’t the best quality… just a pawn in Hemlock’s game,” a gruff voice says.

“Oh, Tech…” a softer voice says.

“I told you that you should’ve taken medic training,” a different voice comments. A scoff follows.

“Stow it, Cross.” Cross… that seems so familiar to CX-2. All the voices do, even the soft, feminine one. A warm liquid oozes out of where prosthetics meet flesh. Blood.

“Shit, Gregor, hand me the gauze,” He knows this voice…

“Echo, keep pressure. I’m getting him bacta,” Echo… warm hands trail down his body, checking for further injuries.

“Crap… these prosthetics are absolute trash, I should know. Not even connected properly… Tech, if you were awake to see this mess…” the voice, Echo, scoffs. CX-2 hears a smile in his voice.

“Are…are they as good as yours?” CX-2 hears his own voice ask that. He doesn’t know why he said that. In fact, his mouth moved on its own accord. All sounds around him cease and everything’s quiet except the soft hum of the ship.

“I… no, sorry, bud…mine are cooler,” Echo responds. CX-2 feels a subtle smile tugging at his own lips. Why? These are the enemy. Someone tends to his mangled hands, cleaning them and wrapping them tenderly.

“Tech…” CX-2 hears that name being called over and over again. Whispered in his ear. Murmured into his forehead as soft lips make contact with the scarred skin. Breathed into his hands as someone holds them gently.

His eyes open, just for a moment, meeting the gaze of five pairs of brown eyes. “Tech is gone,” he says. “CX-2 is all that remains…” He’s out like a light a second later.

Hunter’s heart felt like it was stabbed, trampled, cut out of his chest, and thrown out onto a rock to die. Tech is gone… the words echo through his mind all the way back to Pabu. This wasn’t the reunion he had in mind when he realized the Shadow was actually his little brother.

Crosshair doesn’t know how to feel. He abandoned his squad, his family, for the Empire. Is this karma, he thought.

Nonsense, Tech’s voice whispers in his head, this has nothing to do with you. The rational explanation is that the Empire succeeded in turning me into an assassin where they failed to turn you. Do not blame yourself, Crosshair. There was nothing you could do to stop this.

But I could’ve known, Crosshair’s voice whispers back to Tech’s, we would’ve been at Tantiss together.

And how could you possibly have known that, Cross?

Wrecker just tries to keep Omega away from their unconscious brother. “He needs his rest, Meg.”

“I won’t leave until he wakes up,” the blonde replies, crossing her arms. “I’m not bothering him, anyway.”

Wrecker sighs, placing a hand on her scrawny shoulder. He mutters, “Tech’s always been the one to take care of us… it’s weird that we’re taking care of him.”

“I know… what did he mean by ‘Tech’s gone’?”

“I… I don’t know. Cross said the Empire erases their previous lives while they turn them into… this. He’ll pull through and we’ll be losing to him in dejarik in no time.”

Echo was confused. Tech had just asked him about his cybernetics, meaning he did in fact remember them, at least somewhat. He stares out the viewport in the cockpit, his fingers picking at his scomp link. Tech always hated when he did that.

The next time CX-2 resurfaces, he’s staring up at a - wooden? - ceiling, definitely not a ship’s. A house? Hut? Cabin? He groans, lifting a hand up to pinch the scarred bridge of his nose. His face was littered with thick, ragged scars. Ever since Eriadu.

He looks at his hand in surprise as he sees its bandage has been changed recently. Where is he? CX-2 sits up slowly, orienting himself as he goes. The room is warm, small but not small enough that you feel claustrophobic. A window is above the bed he’s currently lying on, soft light filtering through the translucent curtains. He strains his neck to peer out of it.

Pabu…

He gets off the bed, looking down at his prosthetics, which start just below the knee. They’re sturdier as he stands and they don’t restrict his movement like they used to. They’re… comfortable.

He quietly - as quiet as you can get with two durasteel feet - leaves the room, examining the hallway. A kitchen is down the hall, so he heads there. Wincing, he looks around the corner to see if anyone’s there.

There is.

Crosshair…

“C’mere, Tech,” the sniper says, gesturing to the seat at the island beside him. CX-2 hobbles over to it, taking a seat silently.

“I’m not the brother you remember,” he rasps, looking out the window.

“No shit… no goggles?”

“Hemlock thought I should wear contacts so the goggles don’t break out on a mission.”

Crosshair hums in response.

“Why did you come back?”

The sniper takes a moment to respond, “Couldn’t leave you behind.”

It’s CX-2’s - no, Tech’s - turn to hum in response. He feels Crosshair leaning against him slightly.

“You’re not who you used to be, but we’ll get there. Right?”

“Possibly.”

Crosshair scoffs, “Good to have you back.”

Taglist: @will-is-silly @fionajames @sevdidntdie @hellhound5925 @dangraccoon @skellymom

Please let me know if you want to be taken off or join the list!!!

[everett-fornow]

Henris and Thatcher warm-up oneshot

I wrote this over a couple days and can't think of anything else to add to it but it was still a very good exercise to play around with their hate-y friendship thing

hope you enjoy it!!!!

A melancholy sigh washed over Henris as he laid on the carpet of the communal apartment atop the bar. It was quiet up there that particular night so no one was there to witness his usual pity party shenanigans. His favourite leatherback sketchbook sat at his fingertips, flat on the floor. He ran his fingers across the subtle indented pattern on the front cover, thinking of his purpose, what he wanted to be, what he wanted to do…and what he was. He rolled onto his back with another sigh.

“I should’ve been an artist..” he muttered to himself. He wished the dream he had of painting his days away and living peacefully were as alive as they were when he dropped out of high school and bought a canvas with his dads money. He wished that leatherback sketchbook beside him would beckon and beg for him to draw in it at least once a day but alas it sat still, as depressed, purposeless and worthless as its owner.

A set of footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs to the apartment, making Henris scramble to his feet and sit on the couch. Rule no.1 of a leader, never let your guard down. His eyes would join with the lense filtered pupils of their medic, Dr Thatcher. Perhaps he was trying too hard to look natural and was staring too intently because yes, she did notice. 

“What’s with the look?” she asked “is there something in my hair?” she continued across the room, removing a book from the shelf.

“No,” Henris replied sharply “you were just in my line of sight, okay? Not everythings gotta be about you”

“Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine tonight.” Thatcher sarcastically rebutted “and for future reference it’s ‘not everything has to be about you’ ” she laughed and muttered, “goodness, sometimes I swear you didn’t even attend elementary..” 

Henris frowned. He hadn’t. 

“Anyways, what are you doing up here all alone? I thought you would’ve been spending time wi- ooh what’s that??” she interrupted her own thoughts as she noticed the sketchbook on the carpet, reaching for it. Henris had grabbed it out of her reach before she even had a chance of snatching it up.

“NO” Henris loudly commanded, “this isn’t for you to look through, missy, so don’t even think about it!” 

Thatcher scoffed “aww, what is it? Your diawy?? Adorable” she sat down on the couch now behind henris with a smug sigh “y’know, for a grown man you’re awfully childish over things like, what is that, a sketchbook?” she stated as she observed the book he was holding to his chest closer, recognising the paper as that of drawing paper “I mean really, get over yourself. You can’t be all confident and powerful but get all fussy about a few drawings…” they held tense eye contact for some time after she finished, before Henris huffed and threw the book at her.

“Fine.” he caved. “you’re lucky I tolerate you” he continued to fester as she flicked through the pages of his sketchbook, feeling like parts were being gouged out of his dignity with every page she turned. God, she was good at getting him to cave. Too good.

“Wow…these are really good” she murmured in awe “when did you do these?”

“Just like…over the months or so…” he really didn’t like people knowing about his hobbies, especially someone as inclined to tease him as thatcher. He couldn’t tell if she really did like his art or not, her face and tone was unreadable to him. “It passes the time, gives me something to do…”

“I didn't know  you were such a good artist..” she complimented as she studied the sketches on the page. Henris sighed with agitation at this, used to her constant berating and mean-spirited comments towards him and thinking this was yet another elaborate joke to hurt his feelings about something he's passionate about. 

“You don't have to be such an ass all the time, Riley” he snapped, just wanting to be left alone at this point. She looked up at him, confused and a little hurt. 

“I'm being serious” 

“Really?”

“Yeah! These are really good!” She assured “I'm not taking the piss, I just like your art. Where did you do lessons?” 

“Oh, no, I didn't take any type of special lessons or such” He brushed off “I mainly learned art in school and off one of the maids who lived with us” great, now he was opening up about his childhood. “I used to think about trying to make a living off of it but..y'know..” 

“Yeahh” Thatcher laughed “would be quite the career change if you tried again nowadays” they both laughed together at this, thinking of the prospect of an underground crime organisation getting found out because their ringleader wanted to express himself.  “Can you imagine-” Henris started, already laughing “can you imagine the cops being called on an art show??” they both cracked up in hysterics at this. they have a weird sense of humour that only the two of them really get y'know? 

[aeoki]

Candy House - Electric Utopia: Chapter 11

Characters: Sora, Natsume & Tsumugi Season: Autumn

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Ten or so minutes later. Cyberworld “Candy House” Central Hub. >

Natsume: ⸻

(I sEE. This is amaziNG.)

(The scenery changed the moment I blinkED. We moved from our reality to “Candy HouSE” – to this strange worLD.)

(So this is what the new “SSVRS” that was made specifically for “Candy House” can dO.)

(In reality, wearing contact lenses and accessing the cyberworld that way feels much more comfortable than using the headsET.)

(It feels as though I’ve obtained a brand new pair of eyes in order to catch a glimpse at a strange world that shouldn’t exist in the first plaCE.)

(It feels much more immersiVE. But if we’re just viewing another virtual reality, then it’s no different than any of the other “SSVRS” experiencES.)

Tsumugi?: Master~...♪

Natsume: ………!?

Tsumugi?: Wow! It’s so cool! Not only does the scenery change, but you can actually touch the things here! You can even smell it!

It’s like we’re actually touching, Master~! Huuuuug ♪

Natsume: …What do you think you’re doiNG? Don’t casually hug mE – Do you have a death wish, you perveRT?

Tsumugi?: Ugh! Don’t strangle me! Sure, we don’t feel as much stress here compared to reality, but it still hurts!

Natsume: WeLL, since the game is going to be sold to the general public, they can’t make it so that the players actually feel pain when they’re huRT…

Or the players will die when they die in the gaME.

This virtual reality, “Candy House”, is a utopia that doesn’t have those undesirable real life factoRS.

Tsumugi?: P–Please don’t explain all that as you’re strangling me! It’s getting hard to breathe, but Sora will be sad if he gets killed by Master~

This actually feels pretty real?

Natsume: That manner of speakiNG… Is that you, SoRA? You look exactly like that Phantom MopheAD.

Tsumugi?: Yes! Sora did his best to make Sora’s avatar look just like Senpai! Tadaa~☆

Natsume: Don’t give me thAT. It’s revolting seeing Senpai move so cuteLY. It gives me the sudden urge to kiLL.

If the actual Senpai acted like that, then I’ll hire a hitman and remove him from this EarTH.

Tsumugi?: Uuu, but Sora worked so hard on this avatar~ Master~ doesn’t like it~?

Natsume: Why would you make your avatar look like Senpai, anywAY?

You can apparently look however you want in “Candy HouSE”.

So why did you choose to look like SenpAI? You didn’t think I was good enough for yOU? Do you prefer Senpai over me, SoRA?

Tsumugi?: U–Um? Sora just wanted to? Sora figured that he might understand Senpai more if he looked like him~?

Sora wants to learn more about Senpai!

Sora wants to learn more about Master~ too! After all, we’re all going to be working together in the same unit forever from now on! Heheh ♪

Natsume: UgH, don’t say such adorable thinGS! I want to hug you but your appearance is infuriating and it’s confusing my braIN!

Mophead: Um…

Natsume: …..!? Now whAT?

Mophead: Oh, it’s me. Me, you know? I can’t see myself but for some reason, I don’t think I’m human right now.

Natsume: I’m not going to be able to know if you just say “mE”. I don’t know any evil spirits or monsteRS. I suppose I do know someone who calls themself a vampire, thouGH?

WaIT. Oh, rigHT. Come to think of it, I think I set it so that you look like some sort of hairy monstER.

I think I also set your name to “MopheAD”.

Mophead: Why would you bully me like that…?

Well, it’s not like I hate it. In fact, it makes me happy to see you’re doing all these things for me!

Natsume: Shut uP. Anyway, you arrived late because you had to register an account and everythiNG.

But where’s Stheno-sAN? She said she would take us arouND.

Mophead: Huh? She’s not here? That’s weird~

Ah, I’ve heard that only the soul gets transported into the virtual world and since Stheno-san is a robot, maybe she couldn’t make it?

Natsume: She’s a real person so that wouldn’t make senSE.

Even robots should be able to freely walk around in this world if they make an accouNT…

???: “Welcome.”

“I’ve been waiting for you, ‘Switch’.”

Natsume: …SoRA?

Tsumugi?: Yes? Sora is here?

Natsume: Oh right, Sora looks like Senpai right nOW.

Then who’s that SoRA? Is that Stheno-sAN?

???: “I used a barrier to keep that ‘Witch’ out. I didn’t want any interruptions, you see.”

Natsume: A barriER…?

???: “Hehe. I spoke in a poetic manner to match your style. She was just denied access to ‘Candy House’ and couldn’t log in.”

“I don’t know how long I can keep that ‘Witch’ out, so I’ll tell you everything I can – as quickly as I can.”

“No. Before that, I should introduce myself.”

Euryale: “My name is Euryale.”

Tsumugi?: Euryale…? Wait, Ecchan!?

Euryale: “Yup, that’s me. We finally meet, Sora-kun.”

“This is our first time properly meeting each other, so I don’t want to act all friendly in order to ask you a favour, but…”

“Please, help me.”

“I’ve been trapped in this ‘Candy House’ since I was little.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[autismvampyre]

want to cut out my eye. have to go to hospital or eye doctor because contact lenses stuck. causing distress. amplified by moving to a new apartment where no comfort place or things are yet. autistic meltdown. hate everything. mom mad when i scream in distress because language too hard and my eyes is wrong and it hurts. mom is angry because we will be kicked out for noise if i do not control myself. something is stuck in my eye. whole body wrong. everything bad and i need to scream but not allowed to. eyes stuck. need to hide for comfort but we moved this week so no comfort or hiding place in new home. need to be alone but in pain because medical emergency. cannot go to er because mom said they will give me sedative if im not in control. cannot be in control of me while something stuck in my eye. catch 22 situation. im scared. im alone. i need help. i need my eye to be normal.

putting my thoughts down to help think. voice wont work thoughts do. mom keeps trying to help but make it worse. need comfort. need calm to get thing out of eye but will not be calm until thing is out. hate situation. hate everything. will never wear contact again. going to try to calm and send text to mom to leave me alone. then remove on my own. maybe go to hospital later if things calm down and mom stop being pushy. in distress. making plans to get ok again, will take time. will get better. i will find a way. i come back later

[miercolaes]

️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️𝖆 𝖈����𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖆𝖒𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖞

after scouring the internet for something to bring me back the muse, i have stumbled upon a collection of illustrations made by charles addams. everything found is from an internet archive which can be found here (though i suggest going for the .cbr files which are 100% safe). the pages feature more than just the addams family content. below the cut you will find edited versions of the screenshots i took + headcanons that apply to my wednesday based off of them.

where the name of principal weems originated from. that's all, in my version of wednesday she never had weems as babysitter, but i wanted you to know the origins.

watering plants runs in the family. wednesday has her own plants. most of them borrowed from morticia and some she has received from other family members. most of them are either deadly, poisonous or just beautiful through her dark lenses.

featuring a new family member, uncle cosimo. he's probably the one that set the tradition of aiming to be the worst and leave this world a worse place than it was before.

tooth removal. it's funny because i think most of us did similar things with our baby teeth, but instead of a trap door it was just a plain door. or if you were like me, you were using cars with remote control because you thought that was cool. i really hope i didn't just out myself and you did the same thing as a kid.

some father - daughter bonding. swinging on a broom to feel more like a witch. wednesday adores his father although she may appear a tad cold as she grows up. this version of wednesday loves her family very much, thank you for coming to my vero talk.

wednesday canonically has six toes on one foot. as you can see, she didn't mind physical contact as a kid. and she learned how to pry from her mother.

christmas eve. reading some skewed version of a christmas carol was tradition. both wednesday and pugsley were fascinated. you guessed it right, the children loved bob. it's even more funny that i already did that without knowing it was canon and well, i too read a christmas carol on christmas eve almost every year. i am becoming an addams.

the reason why the children do not like santa. why hurt / torture an animal when you can do the same but with people who most likely deserve it? they don't like santa. below this, you'll see how they are waiting for him.

burn that bastard. forget gifts, they don't even need them. but santa must pay for what he's done. wednesday probably made a whole campaign to free the reindeers and the elves from santa's tyranical wrath.

family photos are the best. which is why if you take a picture with wednesday she won't stay deadpan. she will sneer or make some creepy face. it's what she was taught, alright?

how fairytales should be. in this version, wednesday loved fairytales with this kind of happy endings. however, what she heard is public school was atrocious. she hated school ever since.

wednesday and pugsley maiming the postman. morticia and gomez caught it in 4k before hd ever existed. once again, wednesday sits on her father's lap and she's happy.

business 101 with the addams spawns. you know it's poisoned or something among these lines.

just another lovely day.

the addamses welcoming to all supernatural beings. morticia just couldn't recognize the werewolf from just the fur. if the werewolf would've howled, then fester would recognize who it was. but all supernatural beings were welcomed on their godforsaken threshold.

fester taking wednesday and pugsley on a fishing trip. as you can see, the children had a great upbringing. their parents had the best relationship, all family members were loving, in their own way. the children had the perfect childhood. and yes, that included dynamite. if you think otherwise, grow up.

wednesday and her dollhouse which she set ablaze a few times. poor lurch had to stop the fire hazards every time. she probably got the dollhouse from krampus because screw santa.

cheating is encouraged and required. which is why wednesday would cheat her way through about anything. and once again, it seems i have made the right choice for her dc verse, in which the addamses own a casino and lbr, the house always wins because it cheats. wednesday's one hell of a co - owner.

summer days. you must scare the other children, right? that's the social norm or something. wednesday definitely filmed the moment while pugsley scared the other kids.

if another baby boy comes into the addams family one way or another, we'll know the names.

they took turns being the executioner. beheading dolls is not gender based! all kids should be allowed to behead dolls for their own sanity and happiness.

bat house. wednesday built it with gomez. the bats seem to appreciate it.

kids coming from the camp. if they were caged, then everyone would be safe on the road back home. these two rascals would commit crimes at any age and it is a good omen for them to start at a young age.

wednesday throwing a tantrum. it happens quite often. this applies into adulthood. whenever she does something benevolent accidentally she'll throw tantrums because it's not what she meant at all. have some sympathy for this devil.

another christmas tradition. pour boiling liquid contents (may or may not instantly kill the victims with the flesh disolving from their bones) on the carolers. they had it coming.

the best way to end this masterlist. that's one happily ever after wednesday loves to hear. we love some justice.

[unladielike]

"Why don't you try contact lenses?" Fang wondered. "Then you look less smart but probably hotter."

          UNPROMPTED ASKS. » always accepting!

    "But it's such a pain, putting them on... and then taking them back off," Vivian complains before shaking her head. Why, sensory-wise, she hated contacts if only because they were uncomfortable to even wear and she herself had a habit of blinking too much, to the point where she couldn't really bring herself to go through that much trouble.

    "Honestly, my eyes are the windows to my soul, so no amount of attractiveness would be worth me potentially going blind just because I forgot to remove them... so I think I'd go the ugly, optically challenged route any day, thank you very much."

@badheart

[psychblurred]

another day of not so great news. my eyesight has gotten so bad that especially my right eye needs some real complex lenses… meaning that i need a new pair of glasses and also that most likely i won’t be able to wear contact lenses anymore.

and it’s like a kick in the gut. cause i hate myself with glasses. i’m ugly when i wear them, that’s it. they suck so much when i train. myself or others. i won’t be able to go to the beach or to swim cause i’m not removing my glasses so everyone can see that i’m cross eyed.

god… this is such a flashback to when i wanted to get my eyes fixed with surgery at 15 and my doctor told me we can’t do that cause my eyes are changing basically every appointment. and i started crying and she prescribed my first ever contacts and basically saved me. and now i’m back to being that loser.

my god my life has been fun the past couple of months!

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hi librarian, I hope you're doing well. I'm super grateful for your blog and your recs always get me through whatever I've got going on. I was wondering if you have a list for meet-ugly fics, they're my favorites

Hello friend! Your sweet asks always make this Librarian smile, and hopefully this list of fics will return the favor. There are…a lot of fics in this category so there are even more fics below the cut. Happy reading!

💞 Wolfstar Meet Uglies 😅

St-rain-gly Familiar by Judeyjude

prompt: Remus is having a terrible day. To top it all off, when he gets caught in a sudden downpour his umbrella refuses to open. Luckily for Remus, a black haired stranger comes to his rescue. The rescuing doesn't go quite as planned...

Smoke Signals by @kattlupin

Sirius Black, the reluctant God of Black Island, has his world turned upside down. Not by the smoldering volcano that has come back to life and is threatening to blow its top and destroy them all at any moment, but by the islands mysterious, surfing, pot smoking inhabitant, Remus Lupin.

The "Sweetest, Kindest Person" by @kittycargo

Lily's friend Remus comes to the dental office where Sirius works to have his wisdom teeth removed.

Strangers on a Plane by @halictus-writer

Sirius is planning on reading during his short flight. But his seatmate is rather handsome, if not a little standoffish. They're both short on tact today.

Operation Puppy Love by @goodboylupin

After a long string of failures, Sirius must take on the mantle of Man's Best Friend to help James win over one Lily Evans. As a treat for his good deeds, he meets the man of his dreams.

The Social Penetration Theory by @catewip

When Remus Lupin gets distracted by his insanely attractive new classmate, technology rebels and chaos ensues.

Fine Motor Skills by @my-coming-of-age-novel

Sirius Black's car needs work—again. Meanwhile, Remus Lupin is amused to see his favorite customer back at his mechanic's shop. An ode to classic "tattoo artist meets florist" fics, this "mechanic meets bookstore owner" one subverts the trope so the exact opposite marauder that you would expect to own each shop does.

To Fall for/on the Northern Line by @ptarmiganlettercarrier

What happens when the only other guy on the train trips over you? Well... if you're Sirius Black, maybe you start to flirt. And maybe, just maybe, he flirts back.

Tom Jones (A Love Story) by @wook77

The story in which Remus is a street musician, Sirius is a self-important banker that spends more on his coat than Remus makes in a month, James is James and Peter likes Tom Jones.

Hogwarts Bouncy Castle of Love by Children_of_the_Shadows

To many, Sirius in a bouncy castle may spell disaster, but to Remus it is where he has found true love.

Swipe Left for Safety by @remywrites5

His finger hesitated over a picture of someone who absolutely couldn’t be real. He had long, dark hair that fell well past his shoulders and grey eyes that Remus thought must have been either contact lenses or photoshopped. High cheekbones and sinful lips the man looked like a model. Remus was not about to get catfished by a picture that was probably of someone famous that he just didn’t recognize. Besides, what kind of a name was Sirius anyway? It was obviously fake. He swiped left. Not today, Satan. “Hard pass on that guy, huh?” Someone said from above Remus. “Ouch.”

Huckleberry by @wolfywordweaver

One dusty morning in a small town in the middle of the Wild West a gunfight brings the best gunslinger of the Greyback Boys face-to-face with the legendary Black Grim. Who's got the fastest hands in the West?

Chance Meetings, Therapeutically by @halictus-writer

Sirius is getting himself through post-divorce life when he re-meets the husband of the man his husband was cheating on him with.

Be Nice to the Wait Staff by wannnabesuper

Inspired by the instagram @overheardbumble: "I ended the date early because he was rude to the waiter." "Ugh, I hate that." "I know...But I ended up going home with the waiter, so it was worth it."

Headband by diiiangelo

When Remus finally agreed to go watch a soccer game with Lily, he didn’t know that the most gorgeous man he had ever seen would be playing. He also definitely didn’t count on said man kicking the ball right at his head.

Something Beautiful -orphaned account

When Remus Lupin's ex talks him into a drunken tattoo mistake, he goes to his friend and co-worker Lily for help. Luckily her husband's best mate is a tattoo artist who can help with the cover up. Unfortunately for Remus, the tattoo in in a rather compromising area, and he'll have to get over his embarrassment. Luckily for him, Sirius Black is just the man for the job.

Customers Only by Judeyjude

"Dragging her eyes back to Sirius, the hostess pointed a perfectly manicured nail to the sign on the podium that read: Restroom for Customers Only." A charming stranger saves Sirius Black from a sticky situation when little Harry's on the verge of wetting himself.

The London Underground Book of Love by Children_of_the_Shadows

The cardinal rule of the London Underground is to never, ever make eye contact. It is a rule that, among many others, Sirius tends to follow despite his otherwise rebellious, non-rule-following nature. So the first time he makes eye contact with a human being in the subway comes as much of a shock to him as anyone else. Especially when he's unable to look away.

False accusations -orphaned account

It's December 1981 and Sirius has his hands full with Harry, when one afternoon he receives an unexpected visit from Child Protection Services.

On Behalf of the Souls -orphaned account

When Remus gets into an unwitting row with a couple of drunk men at the pub, the last thing he expects is for the gorgeous person at the end of the bar to come to his rescue. But the Universe seems to be interested in seeing them together, as Sirius Black finds something he likes very much about Remus Lupin, and aims to keep him.

[whumpersdump]

Project Rebirth - CH4: Final Touches

Content! From Whumper’s POV. (They’ll get a title soon btw, I just haven’t decided on a name yet).

[ Previous ] -- [ Masterlist ]

TW: (None of these are graphic) Restraints / blink-and-you-miss it use of  “it” as a pronoun / dehuminization / non-con surgery (non-graphic, whumpee isn’t awake) / lab whump / pet whump / sedation / sensory deprivation (not from Whumpee’s POV) / brain-fiddling? (he talks of an implant that restricts basically everything from speaking to moving. It’s mentioned, not shown)

Everything is set for the first practical stage of Project Rebirth to begin. All that is need is some final surgical attention, and a last talk to Whumper’s new investors. Also no editing we die like Toby’s previous owner...

Whumper sat next to Subject One, like he had every moment of spare time in the past five days. The last two, they barely twitched a muscle. Of course this was in part because of the starvation, but it was nice to have achieved nonetheless. Even if would wear of. Their body may be still, but the occasional twitch, hitch of a breath, told him their mind was racing.

He already picked out a name for them. Their masterpiece, even if it would take nine months before he would see their frantic eyes again. Everything was prepared. Their nursery—which was a rather misleading name, but it fit the process, and the marketing—was almost done, the housing facility would be complete in three months.

Subject One was the only one who really needed to be in the container for the sake of the time that it would give Whumper, but the aspect fit the aesthetic his investors expected. It would be what kept the program running for decades to come.

Subject One shuddered. They’d gotten the message. He’d chosen one of his newly acquired sponsors to deliver it through the earpieces. Not because it needed to be. He could just as easily move, then sedate the subject. Make the chaos in their mind spike just before they’d awake in ominous calm. Comforting calm, though it would take a while for the subject to feel about in that way. They had nine months, it would be enough.

The sponsors needed to feel special anyway. Some of them could make perfect pets, the way they seemed to crave special attention. He could try it someday. With this Project, even they could be reborn.

He nodded at Toby. “Bring them to the surgeon. It’s time for stage 3.”

Toby exited the corner he’d been standing in for the past day. It was a test, to see how obedient he really was. So far, Whumper had been pleased. Sure, seeing pets shiver at the thought of accidentally moving a muscle without permission could be rewarding, but it didn’t bring the type of productivity he needed. Toby’s compliant personality, in combination with Whumper’s training, did.

Toby reached for the subject’s shoulder like he always did.

“Not anymore, Toby,” Whumper commanded. “No more touching of any kind. You can move them, tube and all.”

Toby obeyed. With precision, he took the hand truck out of place and rolled it over to the doors that opened to the medical wing. Subject One would feel this, but it wasn’t enough to skew the results. If anything, it could amplify the result he was looking for.

He followed behind Toby, but entered the door to the watching room instead of the OR like Toby did. That’s where his funding was waiting. He hated having to care about it, but money was simply necessary for him to scale up the Project. “Thank you for coming back,” he told the seven investors waiting for him. “As I’ve said before, most of the program is completely tailored to your pet and the pet you wish they become. That means, no program looks or feels the same. This part though, they all have in common.”

He guided their gazes down to the OR—where the surgeon had sedated the subject—and begun the procedure. Toby watched from his corner, as Whumper had told him to. This would be the only time he was allowed this close to a subject before Rebirth, so Whumper made sure he knew as much as possible. The pet didn’t lie. He used to, but his previous owner trained it out of him.

If he were to fulfill any purpose at all in the future, he would have to learn to. Knowing about the stages before meeting the Reborn subjects was a good way to teach them. After all, he’d be the one to truly push the subject’s minds over the edge.

The investors patiently waited for Whumper to explain what was happening. “The implant all subjects receive is what makes this project so realistic. Like a newborn child, they have to learn everything. Eating, speaking, resisting, if you want them to. All in an effort to recreate them into the pet they were always meant to be. Now of course, some of them have skills we do want them to keep. Take Toby down there, he’s a master on the piano. For each pet, the implant’s functions can be customized.”

One of the investors raised her hand. “What are your plans for this one then?” she asked. “Does it have anything worth keeping?”

Whumper smiled. “In a less dire situation, we might have chosen to keep certain parts of them, but as you’ve noticed this is not the average pet we’re talking about. They will be reborn a blank slate. The only thing any pets are allowed to keep is their understanding of language—so they can obey commands, and their ability form minimal amounts of coherent thought and memory. We’ve found that this process works best if to some extent, the pets are aware of the changes. A risk, I know, especially with this one, but it will prove efficient.”

He straightened his tie. “This one in particular has quite the mouth, and they tend to use a bit too much of what they hear against their trainers. For that reason, we’ve limited their access to their vocabulary a bit more than usual. They’ll be able to understand simple sentences, but we won’t have to worry about their natural perceptiveness.”

“What’s he doing to their eyes?” a second investor asked.

Whumper’s heart fluttered. He’d hoped they’d ask. “Those, are highly sophisticated remote-controlled lenses.” They weren’t necessary, they function was mostly aesthetical from the subject’s perspective. They helped make it all a bit more realistic on both sides, though.

“They don’t have to be removed, ever. Which is why we’re putting them in so early. They control the subject’s ability to see color, and light. Like them implant, we can control them from behind the scenes. They aren’t vital, but they smooth out the transition from the Rebirth into the following stages of the program.”

He glanced down into the OR, where the surgeon was finishing up, and the other staff had begun to prepare the subject for stage 4’s container. “I’m afraid that I can’t show you anymore at this point, so my staff can take on this challenge with as little distraction as possible. However I’m happy to answer as many of your questions as I can.”

Several hands shot up. Whumper smiled.

“What are they doing?” Was the first question.

Whumper gazed down. Four people were removing the restraints and the jacket, and outfitted the subject in the thin white suit that would help keep them healthy and alive throughout the following stage.

They connected the dozens of tubes and wires that would take care of everything they couldn’t handle from outside the container, as he called it. “I’m afraid this is another one of those trade secrets, but what I can tell you is that in spite of how it looks, this will make the pre-Birth stage as realistic as it can be.”

“What about these nurseries that your people kept going on about. I’m sure they’re important, but it all sounds a bit too… human for my taste. I prefer my pets are used to the necessary restraints and housing conditions, so to speak.”

Whumper nodded. He wasn’t surprised to hear this investor thought his standard approach too kind. She’d demanded her pets were kept muzzled and bound at the facility’s daycare, even though they were among the most compliant creatures he’d ever seen.

“As I said,” he answered. “Everything can be customized. This subject I believe, will gain more from approach that teaches them that as a placeable pet, they will be cared for as long they don’t resist. Should you trust us with your pets though, if we decide after the evaluation that another approach may achieve the desired results more efficiently, we’re prepared. We have nurseries of all kinds, and our staff is prepared to fulfill any role they need to play.”

That seemed to please them. Whumper turned to the last question.

“How long does this program take?”

“We have multiple options. The standard program Subject One will go through can take up to sixteen years starting at the Rebirth, with a minimum time of three years. Now of course, that is a long time for a pet to be away. We have two accelerated programs that last either a few months, or even just a few weeks. You’re free to choose, but after the evaluation we will provide you with a suggestion. Not all pets need the full experience. Especially if they’re not old enough to be placed, a longer program can harm the natural development.”

A frown formed on a few faces.

“I can see you’re worried about the results I’ve promised you. You won’t have to wait long. The program may be an intense procedure, but the results will start to show after just a few weeks. The rest of the Project is about making them last, so these—” He dangled the subject’s bright red collar in front of them— “will soon be no more than a reminder of what I’ve solved.”

Whumper clasped his hands. The subject was moved out of the OR, into the container hall. “I must go now. My assistant will be up shortly to escort you out. I should mention Toby’s not allowed to be too talkative around strangers, but he’s still learning. If he breaks any rules, please contact me. He doesn’t respond well to strangers punishing him, he’s a bit too loyal for that.”

Taglist (asks are open if you wanna be added or removed): @suspicious-whumping-egg

[sacredpit]

    he’d been expecting this conversation .

    since he’d come to italy to meet giorno   &   what remains of his closest friends ,   kakyoin had been increasingly aware of the figure looming ominously at the backs of both their minds ,   demanding attention   in death as much as he had in life .   yet ,   despite the whisper of a resemblance ,   he can’t see much of   dio   in the refined   &   lionhearted adolescent that shares his space now ;   giorno is all his own person ,   made up of a unique concoction of hardships conquered ,   ambitions pursued ,   &   passions cultivated .   verily ,   kakyoin cannot claim he’s ever met anyone quite like passione’s young but   powerful   don ,   though he thinks he catches glimpses of himself in him every once in a while .   the time they’ve spent together thus far ,   in spite of its brevity ,   has revealed to him a   golden child   for which a soft spot quickly grows at his core .

a weighted sigh gusts past parted lips ,   scarred eyes lowering toward the evanescing shoreline behind crystalline lenses ,   the light of day shifting against his glasses .   “   ‘ complex ’   is quite a diplomatic way to put it ,   ”   replies kakyoin ,   a bitter ,   but truly humored chuckle beneath his tone .   “   these days ,   i think of it more as nonsensical ,   even if i’ve long since given my younger self grace for falling into his mousetrap .   but giorno ,   as much of a   demon   as your father was ,   it isn’t so easy to answer your question .   not as easy as you may think it to be ,   anyway .   ”   

kakyoin’s lips curve into a gentle smile as he reciprocates the established eye contact ,   a softness to his gaze often reserved for those held closest to his heart .   “   of course you could never be like him .   you have empathy ,   &   a sense of humanity ,   &   a regard for life that he would view as weaknesses .   he was a man   ━━━━   a   being   ━━━━   so consumed by a lust for power that could never be satisfied ,   that he would exploit anyone   &   anything to the furthest extent ,   even if it meant he was only a centimeter closer to his ever - heightening goal .   ”   there’s a falter in his expression as he thinks back to the time he spent in that mansion ,   seeking a companionship that had been dangled over his head on a fraying string   &   losing more of himself with every second he spent at dio’s feet .   his jaw tightens just slightly ,   but the light does not leave his eyes ,   even as a dainty - looking hand raises to remove his glasses . 

“   but despite all of that ,   he wasn’t   all   bad .   no one is ,   ”   he utters ,   voice softening an octave .   “   it took me many years to be able to admit that .   nothing will ever be able to justify the atrocities he committed ,   &   the selfish motives he held for pretty much   anything   he did in his life ,   but there was a reason i was drawn to him ,   that i   trusted   him .   he gave me knowledge of myself i never could have received anywhere else ,   &   helped me to unlock the full extent of my stand’s capabilities .   ”   crimson brows thread together as kakyoin’s thoughts ,   strung together over years of reflection   &   growing maturity ,   present themselves with clarity he wouldn’t have been ready to accept at seventeen ,   freshly victimized .   “   as much as i hate that absolute fucking monster ,   i can’t disregard that .   

so ,   my point is   . . .   if you feel a connection to him ,   an urge to   love him ,   even ,   you shouldn’t feel bad about it .   you said it yourself ,   you could never be what he was .   but he’s still your father   . . .   it’s only natural that some part of you would seek him out that way ,   giorno .   ”   kakyoin watches as the boy stares at the photo he’s kept with him all these years ,   &   there’s a tug in his chest as he thinks of the comfort giorno may have sought in that mysterious image ,   the   value   it holds to him ,   that may have carried him through strife .   “   you are   so young ,   & though you have already accomplished so much ,   you still have a lot to learn .   dio cannot teach you any of those things ,   &   even if he could ,   i can’t imagine his perspective would benefit you much .   but it’s okay to take comfort in what he could have been .   it doesn’t mean that you want to be like him  . . .   just that you want what he should have given you .   ”

𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺▓ ❛  I know it feels like no one understands, but I'm listening now.  ❜ @sacredpit

❝ That's very kind. ❞ Seafoam hues can only stare with softness, the faintest hints of a smile lifting the corners of his lips at the sentiment. A breath is taken as Giorno looks away, his breath rolling with the breeze as he leans against the railing of a hillside near the ocean, his blonde hair swaying ever so lightly. ❝. . .I understand that the history between my father and you has had its complexities.❞ He'd begin, his eyes finally drifting to the shoreline, where he watched the ocean recede from the sandy beach. ❝ He and I aren't the same. . .I couldn't be like him if I tried. . .but to know my life is attached to someone so heinous. . .❞ A gentle sigh as melancholy takes hold of his voice, a hand gripping the railing tightly as he continues to look over his shoulder at the beach.

Finally, Giorno glances back to Kakyoin, ❝ Just how vile was he ? ❞ Giorno isn't even sure why he's asking, but he needs wants to know. What better person to ask than a victim of his father, and when would an opportunity like this present itself again? ❝ Please. . .Don't sugarcoat it, I want to hear it all. . .It's troubling missing someone I've never known. . .let alone someone like him.❞ Finally, a hand lifts, reaching to his back pocket to pull out his wallet so that he may look down at the photograph of DIO, a sigh leaving his lips once more as his thumb grazes the plastic covering the image. ❝ To only have a photograph. . .I imagine it's nothing compared to the monster he actually was. ❞

[alecxaheart]

Sunshower | Lee Felix Oneshot

✎ Genre : Friends to Lovers AU, Idol AU, Fluff, Angst

✎ Pairings : Lee Felix X Reader

✎ Word Count : 2.5k words

✎ Synopsis : We all know that sunshines together with the rainfall makes a rainbow. And that is exactly like how you fell for the freckled sunshine.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎. . . Sudden change of plans for the title. :P Enjoy!

In an early afternoon, Felix had to stop by for lunch at this wonderful bakery near the Hangang Park. Where they serve many delicacies such as bars, breads, desserts, cookies, muffins, and more. His personal favorite was their fudgy brownie bites, so favored that he's inspired to make one of his own.

As soon as he opened the door to the bakery, he felt the stress he had from practice a while ago were completely relieved. The bakery gave off a warm welcome when he stepped in. Contrasting to the cold breeze of autumn outside. The aroma of newly baked goods lingered around the room that it felt like Felix's being lured immediately to the cashier. It almost smelled like heaven, thought of Felix.

The moment that he got his desired lunch in his hands, he took a seat near the window. He savored each bite of the pastry, eyes rolling to the back of his head at it's deliciousness. Although a ring from his phone interrupted him from his feast.

" Oi Felix, " Chan greeted as soon as he answered his call. Felix first dabbed his mouth with the provided tissue before replying to Chan, " What's up? ".

While he's into the conversation with his friend, something – or rather someone on the streets captured his eyes. You were aimlessly running after a piece of paper caught in the wind. The breeze carrying locks of your silk hair. Your eyes reflecting the sun and eyebrows knitted as you continue to struggle. When the time that you've had it in your hold came, you accidentally slipped on the autumn leaves. Causing you to painfully land on your butt. A groan fell out of your lips as you rubbed your butt to ease the pain. All of the commotion that Felix saw from you made him break out a giggle, which left his friend confused on the other line.

" Ah yeah, yeah. Let's defo have a barbie this arvo. "

Felix thought that you were adorable.

" (Y/N)? " Called out by the person on the other line as soon as you picked up the call. Your phone was pressed against your right ear while you continued searching for the remote underneath the pillows. It surely has been a while since the last time you interacted with your boyfriend, Park Jongsuk, and God knows how much you missed him. Just hearing his soothing voice at this moment sent butterflies into your stomach. His voice is enough for you to make your day better. " Yes, love? " You asked, smiling to yourself. Also noticing how his tone sounded more requesting. As much as you wanted to beam at him a ' good afternoon ' and ask how is he, you decided not to.

Once you've found the remote to your television, you turned the volume down so that your conversation with him wouldn't be interrupted. You've been just passing some time by watching Netflix for about a week now. Actually, not only for passing time but it is even for avoiding yourself to overthink your current situation - especially about your relationship status with Jongsuk.

" Could we.. " He first trailed off for a moment, contemplating if he should persist with the plan. " Could we meet up later? " That question alone made you joyful and excited, smiling from ear to ear. You give him your enthusiastic approval before ending your call by telling one another that you're both anticipating for your meet up. Turning off the television, you were off to your room to fix yourself. Afterall, this is your first meet up with him ever since the day you were parted by long distance — that's been like roughly 8 months. Him achieving his dreams as a model and actor, away from your home country, Australia. He did brought you with him though. The first months you shared the same apartment, every moment filled with happiness and love.

That is until everything drifted apart. It began with him moving to a dorm nearby and supported by his Entertainment. His weekend visits turned to none at all. Everything that became a habit with him vanished one by one. Leaving you only with memories. But it seems like today's the day you'll start to get everything back.

Oh how you are so oblivious to your bittersweet fate.

Arriving to the said location, Hangang Park. It runs through thousands of miles and has many parks along the way. An environment friendly place for people to enjoy nature, sports, foods, entertainments, fountains, and more. You personally just adore how comforting it is to be there and to have a breath-taking sight of Han River, especially at night. Every locals and tourists savor their time to be here the same as you do. Although as of today, you couldn't help but notice that the park isn't as packed as it usually is.

You sat down on a nearby bench, waiting for Jongsuk to make an appearance. He did told you to come in the late afternoon and you did get there in time. Leaning onto the bench, you let out a sigh. Eyes finding itself staring at the sky covered with gray clouds. The cold wind crashing into your figure, making you shiver. You were sure that you checked today's weather forecast before leaving your household, told you that it'll just be a cloudy day.

Children's hearty laughs soon began turning to murmurs and whispers. The sound of silverware and plates clinking rang through your ears. It sounded like the family's starting to pack up and clean up their picnic space. " Come on, let's go! " Called out by a woman in her late 20's, assumming that she's the mother. You grew anxious when you noticed how everyone seemed to abandon you alone. Why is everybody departing out of the blue? You've just arrived.

" (Y/N), " You heard your own name being mentioned and it came from  behind you. Recognizing the owner of the cordial tone of his voice, you turned around to meet a pair of eyes wearing misty gray contact lenses. Seeing him washed away all of your worries. Your heart's about to instantly jump out of your chest due to the fact that it's filled with pure happiness. Unconsciously smiling brightly at him.

" Love! " Running towards him, you hugged his tall form securely. Mumbling the words, " I missed you. "

However, to your surprise, he never returned the hug. In fact, Jongsuk gently removed your arms around his waist. " (Y/N), I missed you too, " He started, crouching a little bit to face you better. " Although I have something to tell you. Something important, that's why I came. " Something's starting to creep into your guts. As if it's warning you that there's something off about today. He stated that but he never smiled back at you ever since he made an appearance. Plus, he always addresses you by your real name. Not your shared endearment which is strange.

You hummed in response, your smile slowly fading from your lips. " What is it? " Jongsuk saw how your eyes sparkled with hope. He knows that you're yearning for him to tell you that your gut feeling is wrong. Which made him more guilty for what he's about to do.

" (Y/N), let's.. " He hesitated, hating the fact that he has to see you in this state. However, he does know better for what's best for the both of you. " Let's end this here. " To be better off with someone else. Those words were enough to shatter your heart into million of pieces. Your face fully turning into a gloomy countenance with a hint of confusion. Your lips starting to quiver. For a second, you were frozen into place. You dislike how you couldn't control yourself right now.

" I'm sorry, we just didn't work out anymore. " He continued. Thoughts were flooded with denial, that this is happening at this very moment or you must've misheard everything. But no, Jongsuk's facial expression says it all.

" I understand, " Your voice sounded brittle, holding back the tears. Pity is one of the things that's written on his face. That's the least thing you wanted from anyone, to pity you. As if it's telling that you're incapable of overcoming the worst situations in life, that you're fragile and being belittled. And you clearly despise it. " I'll take my leave now. "

With that, you walked away from him. Your arms found itself wrapping around your own figure, trying your best to calm down. Your mixed emotions of fury and agony almost getting the best of you. Although each second that's passing is killing you. Heart aching, lips quivering, you were just in the worst state ever. And once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Resulting you to run away aimlessly. To wherever your feet may take you.

One drop, two drops fell from the skies that made you slow down until you come to a total halt. You looked up to the sky, seeing it covered with dark clouds. A droplet landed on your cheek, a simple gesture from the heavens of wiping off your tears and you'd like to think of it that way. It wasn't long after the drizzle transitioned to a downpour. As if the heavens are crying and mourning with one of its beloved (you) at what tragedy it witnessed. Unfortunately, you haven't brought your umbrella with you due to the fact that you believed at the false weather forecast. So, you let yourself get drenched in the rain. Not giving any piece of shit about the aftermath. You're currently already exhausted and under the weather.

You closed your eyes, body shivering to the cold air being left out from under the showering water. For a few minutes, you stayed there. Not even minding any comments from the people passing by. That is until you didn't feel the rain landing on your body out of the blue. Strange that you could feel a warm presence to your right. However, you could still hear water coming in contact with the pavement.

When you've parted your eyelids, you were greeted by a black fabric instead of gray clouds. " G'day mate, " A familiar deep voice laced with Australian accent greeted. Glancing to your left, he beamed a sweet smile at you. It was as warm, bright and blinding as the sunshine that it could possibly change the whole weather. To be honest, he's the least man you expected to see today since you thought he's as busy as your ex-boyfriend was.

Lee Felix.

" You know you'll get ill with what you're doing and that's least thing I wanna know from my mate. So, that's defo a no no from me, " He pointed out, handing you his umbrella. You timidly accepted it anyway, hand brushing pass his warm ones. Eyes instantly staring at the wet pavement as soon as it's in your grasp. Sighing, Felix took his jacket off and placed it on top of your shoulders. He also handed you a handkerchief after that, receiving a small thank you from you. Then took the umbrella handle back into his grip.

" You know, your ex-boyfriend's a dick, " That being stated by Felix, you let out a belly laugh while drying your face. Seeing your face lit up also made him laugh with you. Ever since the beginning, you both just clicked when Jongsuk first introduced him to you. The time one of you spoke the first " Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! " call, you felt the connection between the two of you while harmonizing at " Oi, Oi, Oi! ". And honestly, he's better at handling long distance friendships than your ex-boyfriend was. He made sure that he gives time for your friendship despite of his busy schedule from being an Idol. Which is impressive because that's just friendship, what more if he's in a relationship?

" I'm sorry, it's just – That came out from you very unexpectedly. I never saw that coming but I like the change. " You chuckled, now walking down the streets with Felix.

" Well, it's still true though, " Felix began, taking out his favorite fudgy brownies he bought from Sunny's. " How could he be so impatient and ghosted you for straight 8 months? And love is known to be patient. He let himself get defeated just by distance. " He took a bite at the brownie, chewing it thoroughly before continuing. " I even heard rumors of him and this make-up artist from his drama recently. "

" What the fuck, " You cursed under your breath, the last part surprising you. Avoiding the chances of you overthinking, you shook your head then changed the topic. " So you're admitting that you've been spying on me, huh? "

" Hey, it's not my fault that I was at Sunny's because my stomach's craving again for those pastries when I witnessed it, " Felix defended, earning a hum as a response from you.

" Though, it felt like I was watching a K-drama, " He jokingly added which ended with you smacking him upside the head playfully.

Reaching back home, you invited Felix for dinner and he gladly accepted the offer. As long as you agreed to his terms of conditions. Let him play League Of Legends on your PC and buffalo wings for dinner.

Coming out of the bathroom fully dressed and hair slightly damped, you saw Felix already busy playing on your PC. The headphones plugged into his ears. You're probably gonna kill him if you found out that he gave you a losing streak. Leaving the room, you went down to the kitchen. Preparing his desired meal. As you were doing so, you occasionally heard faint screams from upstairs which made you chuckle. It was quite odd how well Felix knows to immediately make your day better. Like as if nothing, no tragedy, ever happened earlier.

By the time you called Felix for dinner, he dashed down the flight of stairs and towards the dining area. His eyes sparkled and mouth almost drooling at the delicious sight plus taste of the meal. He didn't hesitate to dig in, taking one into his lips and you followed. While eating, Felix's eyes landed on a picture frame unintentionally, making him glare at it. " You should find someone better, " He suggested, his chocolate orbs meeting your own.

When you're always this close to him, you could see his charming points well. From his distinctive features to his gorgeous freckles. You still continued to believe that it was a constellation map drawn by the Gods so that people could never forget what the heavens looked like especially on cloudy days like today. It must've took a lot of patience, dedication and love to sculpt him. How blessed he is to be one of God's greatest masterpiece. Maybe, the heavens loves you so much that they sent him for you. Afterall, the heavens did show affection to you in a form of rainfall.

" Yeah, as if there's someone as better as you. " You murmured while continuing to feast onto the meal. However, Felix heard it clearly.

" Hmm.. " Felix pondered for a moment, chin resting on top of his hands. " Too bad there's only one of me. "

" Although this one does like you. "

End.

[purplelurkinghini]

Narcissus by the Pond

0. PROLOGUE 

Under the cut is the prologue to yet another multi-chapter mess I am planning to write. What is different about this one is the narrator: Edward Nygma himself. Another aspect of this piece that sets it apart from the rest of my writing is its epistolary form. That’s right, baby! First-person POV!

If you’ve seen >> this << post floating around, this is indeed me actually putting that second prompt to use. 

Enjoy!

Dear ▚▛▙▙

I found a cat toy while cleaning out my closet today. It was that ashy plush mouse stuffed with dried nepeta cataria which you spent money on instead of saving up for your student loans. If he were still here, he’d be rolling around on the floor in some vivid dream in which he was a lion and it was a gazelle. And, if you were still here, I would’ve asked you to stay.

The day you got that tabby’s claws into me was the day you checked into work late. Frank, our project manager and your internship supervisor, had to drop his showman act and instill in you the fear all WayneTech employees are motivated by. After you offered your excuses and exchanged glances with the floor, you were free to enter the kitchen to heat up the coffees that you went out of your way to fetch for us each morning.  

My daily routine, which you’ve played no small role in forming during your short stay with us, was disrupted by the absence of caffeine in my bloodstream. I remember my Rubik’s cube and how I crammed a corner into my palm, squeezing down on the still unscrambled sides. I would call it an ‘absentminded’ action, but we both know that would be an incorrect assessment. My mind is never not present, even as it wanders. For this reason, when you finally came out of the kitchen, I couldn’t not wonder what happened to your sweatshirt. It must’ve been soaked in rainwater, I concluded, and that was the reason you removed it. Or, rather, that was the excuse you used as you removed it. After all, your sneakers were soggy, but you couldn't exactly walk barefoot all over a corporate. Even so, there you were, in a far too small t-shirt which was too tight around your torso and too short to cover your stomach, walking around the office with your brewed bribes. 

“Here you go, Jim” you placed the foam cup right in front of his face to get him to notice you. I’d argue that that slip of skin that was eye level to him was enough to get that scatterbrain's attention. He must’ve made a joke, or attempted to, because you laughed louder than anyone should around him. 

“Cory,” you sauntered over to him. “I asked the barista for two tablespoons and a half this time.” Sure, he might’ve taken his glasses off before taste-testing it, but his lenses were fogged-up before the lid came off. You felt the most confidence around Cory, the least confident one in our team. While no line of code was too complex for him, women were a mystery he had yet to solve. You see, I haven’t failed to notice you making the most physical contact with him, brushing your hand against his as a means of disarming him. 

After he served you a stuttered smile, you moved on to Paul who was pretending to be preoccupied with his screen. He’d been watching you since you walked out of the kitchen, yet still acted surprised when you showed up next to him. You didn’t mean to disturb him, of course, so you tip-toed around his desk, silently setting the cup on a coaster. He thanked you without taking his eyes off of his work, but took the time to watch you walk away as soon as you turned away from him. 

"I'm sorry, Ed," you pouted as you placed the coffee on top of a stack of papers. "I know like to have your coffee before 8, but the storm hit while I was in the shop and the whole street took cover in there-"

"Slow down," I released the Rubik’s cube, flexing my fingers. "I'm not your supervisor. It’s not my forgiveness you need."

"Well, no, but I actually want your forgiveness," you covered your mouth in a coquettish display. "I mean-"

“Like I said,” I brush off the blush creeping up on my cheeks. "There's no use for that." Fetching the foam cup, I take a sip of the scolding beverage and brave through it. “There's no use to ask the barista to write our full names either. This calligraphy exercise cost you a scolding from Frank.”

“Actually,” you pulled the hem of your shirt down which only uncovered more of your cleavage instead of hiding your stomach. “I wrote your name myself.”

I stroked the surface of the cup right across the script. Again, I can’t call this action ‘absentminded’ either, but my mind had wandered off again. That lovely lettering was yours and so was the green marker, so you must’ve scavenged your backpack for it on a crowded morning train. You also must’ve taken your time steadying your hand for each stroke, each dot. E. Nygma. You also must’ve cleaned up the cup as it inevitably spilled and steadied your tongue for each stroke, each lick. Maybe you ever sampled the coffee yourself, the taste of cherry Chapstick staining the rim.

“Well,” you interrupted my intrusive thoughts. “Jim’s showing me the new user interface, so-”

“Of course,” I dismissed you and my daydreams.

“Talk to you later.”

Yes, that was the day the cat got his claws into me. It was after I’d drained the drink, and found myself restless still, that I made my way into the kitchen for another one. That is when I spotted you in the corner, cradling the sweatshirt you discarded earlier. At the sound of my steps, you straightened your back, but you didn’t turn your torso towards me. 

“Hey, Ed,” you smiled and it was a painful sight because I couldn’t ignore the panic I ignited in your eyes. “Lunchtime already?”

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, trying to dry my shirt?”

The closer I got, the more gregarious you grew. You asked about what I’d like to eat, what the guys would like to eat, if I’d like to order out. You didn’t stop until I asked it of you. 

“What are you hiding from me?”

Before you could bellow out something long enough to cover the sound, I heard it.

“Did your hoodie just meow?”

It was only then that you turned, facing me fully. “Please don’t tell Frank, but this is the reason I was running late.” Two pairs of eyes were pleading with me. One belonged to you and they were begging. The other belonged to an orange ball of fur and they were unblinking. 

You were holding a bottle cap filled with water up to its meowing maw, so you must’ve been attempting to keep the animal hydrated, even after rescuing it from the streets in the middle of a storm. You bought kitten kibbles on your way to WayneTech and that had eaten ten minutes of your time and cost you a scolding from Frank.

“I couldn’t just leave Eddie to drown in a ditch somewhere.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah,” you let it sink its little teeth into your skin as it held a single finger close with two whole paws. They feel like needles, I should know, but you carried on cooing the pincushion. “He reminds me of another green-eyed ginger. Maybe you know him.”

Yes, you remember now, don’t you? That was the moment Eddie sunk his claws into me, and I do mean it literally. He released your finger only to get his paws trapped into my button-up. I also mean it figuratively, as I swore to keep your secret the very next second. And, once you were by my side, shadowing me as I was coding like you wanted to since your first day of internship, you made me swear to keep him. How could I not? Your dorm had a ‘no pets’ policy and you had named him after me. 

The two of us had time to get acquainted after you left for your evening classes. I fed him the kibbles and was careful not to get caught. And, because I wouldn't be using it that day anyway, I replaced your sweatshirt with my gym towel. While it smelled like a sad, soaked kitten, whatever fruity fragrance you were using had yet to fade from the fabric. That evening I drove straight home as soon as I left WayneTech, skipping my daily workout. My daily routine, as I’ve mentioned, had been modified by you. 

“We don't even need to potty train him,” you giggled when you saw Eddie digging through the brand new litter box I had ordered. It had been waiting for me by the front entrance along with the delivery guy and yourself.

You got into a cab before even texting me, asking for an address only after the driver started the clock. I expected that stupid stunt from the likes of Jim, not you. 

“He's a clever boy,” I smiled when I saw you were still wearing the green button-up shirt I asked you to exchange that shrunken t-shirt of yours with. “Like his namesake.”

You kneeled before the kitten and produced the plush mouse I'd only seen Eddie play with once. “Did the shampoo arrive? He should be high enough to not scratch our eyes out now.”

After rolling around on the rug with a bag full of catnip, he seemed blissed out enough for a bath. And, after only scratching you twice as you held him for me to scrub his ginger fur ever so gently, we got him all dried and drained. Those green eyes were barely opened as he looked up at us from the cat bed he was supposed to grow into and the sweatshirt he had grown fond of. 

“Now we know he hates all water,” you said through gritted teeth as I sanitized your shaking hands. Your fingers were as fidgety as Cory's, yet I doubt his skin was ever that soft. “Not just the rain.”

“I bet he'd hate flees more,” I caressed your knuckles after bandaging the bloody bits.

“I hate the rain, too,” your eyes were downcast, much like earlier that morning, seemingly searching my sheets for something. “I never knew Frank could be so-”

“Terrifying?”

“Mean,” your giggle wasn't as gleeful as I'd grown used to. “I thought he was going to fire me right then and there.”

“He wouldn't,” I squeezed down on the shadows of your hands as they were snatched away from me. Then, I leaned in close and almost brushed your love with my lips as they moved: “He will let the anxiety that comes with that uncertainty eat you alive first.”

“See, now you're being mean,” you laughed, finally looking up at me. 

“Me? Never,” I said, satisfied with myself. You were laughing - actually laughing - because of me. 

When the dryer dinged, I was confident in leaving you in my bedroom with a smile on your face. After all, I was the one who brought you in there and I was the one who brought that out of you. Once I've collected your clothes, I returned to find you had already removed my button-up and was drying up the rest of your skin with one of my towels. You were turned only half the way, so you must've perceived me in your periphery. Paul pulled the same thing earlier today. Still, you sounded surprised as you covered the side of your breasts I bet you wanted me to see. 

"Forgive me,” I turned around, but, unlike you, I did it all the way. “Here you are,” I stretched my arm behind me to hand you the bra and t-shirt. 

“Thank you.” It was only after your bomber jacket was zipped to your chin that I dared to look at you directly. Your sweatshirt was Eddie's now, so you covered up with what you had. “For everything.”

“Let me drive you to your dorm.”

"You've already done enough," you pulled out your phone as I walked you to the door. “I'll just call another cab. Eddie needs you here. You need to wear him out, or he'll wear you out tonight.”

“Cats are crepuscular creatures,” I assure you. “Not nocturnal. I'm sure he'll fall asleep before I even turn in for the night.”

Yes, I was sure he'd fall. However, Eddie was so convinced. And, sure enough, there he was, meowing in my face at midnight. 

My mistake was letting him get his claws into me. You see, I couldn't bear waking that little bastard up. Not when he looked so small in the middle of your sweatshirt, in the middle of his bed. He finally had a dry place to dream in and I couldn't take that away from him, so I let him sink his claws into me that much deeper. 

And yours, as well.

After chasing him with my hand atop of my covers and letting him swat at the finger-spider, he was ready for bed. My bed. Yes, his green eyes were drooping when he surrendered to sleep. It just so happened that he did it on the left side of my bed. And I, not willing to risk another rude awakening, placed him atop of the pillow. Then, ever so silently, I slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. It was on my way back that I stumbled upon it: your sweatshirt. 

I recall calling it off the floor and taking it with me to bed. For Eddie, of course. He loved that sweatshirt, as I'm sure you know. However, as I placed it on his pillow, I caught a whiff of it. It smelled like rainwater, pet shampoo, Eddie, and you. It was your sweat and deodorant, sweet and soapy, just as I had smelled it on my shirt before tossing it in the laundry basket and I couldn't smell it on the left side of my bed. 

As I closed my eyes, I saw you. You were walking around the office, their wandering eyes watching you. You pass my desk and I am drenched in your scent. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Your sweatshirt is drenched, so you discard it. Your t-shirt is too tight, so I can see the dip of your belly button and the swell of your breasts. Though I am convinced you had a bra to cover them, my mind wanders. It wanders about the color of your nipples and it paints a picture of them peeking through the flimsy fabric. 

And, as my mind wanders further, that flimsy fabric is pulled down, your hands wriggling at the hem of it. That's when those peeks pop out along with the rest. All of a sudden, you're soaking. Sweet. Soapy. You even try to hide this from me, crossing your arms over your chest. I capture your hands, soft skin, and fidgeting fingers, and wrestle with them. Oh, how easily you surrendered to me, sighing in defeat. I lock your arms behind your back with one hand and squeeze your tit like a stress toy. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I had to taste it. 

When my tongue touched the tip, you pushed against it, filling my mouth with your flesh. You wanted this. That nipple is as sharp as a needle, but it melts in the heat of my mouth. You wanted this. After your tit is slick with my saliva and the peak is all puffy, I gather the other one in my grip and repeat. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

You wanted this and you told me as much. You said it loud enough for the others to hear. You wanted this. You wanted me. And, as if I haven't done enough, as if I haven't given you enough, I gave you all of me. Clearing the desk, cube, keypad, computer, and all, I slam you atop the surface. I had to pull down your pants for you, but your legs part all on their own. As for your panties, well, they all but dissolved under the duress. You attempt to hide from me again, tightening your thighs together. And, again, you surrender to me all too easily. After all, you want me. Your pussy? As I parted your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest, I saw how much she wanted me. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

However, I was not in a hurry. No matter how hot were your insides and how cold the chills were down my spine, I still took my sweet, soapy, soaking time. I set myself loose, my length slapping against your ass once it sprang free. You shivered, your back arching like a bow and your hands treading through your tangled hair. You wanted me. I took my time, sandwiching my shaft between your pussy lips, sliding across the slick and even wearing your labia as a hood atop its head for a maddening moment. It was only when you began begging, mewling to be mated that I gave myself to you. I crammed my cock inside of your cunt and went in so deep, I felt your heartbeat as your inner walls collapsed around me. 

Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I fucked you into a fever, your skin as slick as your insides and your mouth leaking as much saliva as your pussy was spilling precum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Soon, it would've been spilling cum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. When I did come, however, it was in my fist and not between your lips. 

As I opened my eyes, you disappeared. There was nothing there to greet me but the strike of the street lights slashing the darkness across the ceiling. Your sweetness had been replaced with my saltiness. It was indeed soapy and soaking, but it wasn’t you. Then, for the second time that night, I slipped out of bed and snuck into the bathroom.

The day you got cat’s claws into my shirt was the day you sunk your own under my skin. After that day, we shared a secret. I never told Frank about Eddie, but Eddie never told you about what I did in the dark. His glowing green eyes didn’t judge me, but they never let me forget. After you left without a notice, ginning up your internship, changing your phone number and never surrendering your real name, I couldn’t face them anymore. His eyes never let me forget, so I rehomed him.

I found your Gotham U sweatshirt while cleaning out my closet today. The name you gave WayneTech is nowhere to be found in their student records. Your name can’t be found in any police records either. Your real name, however, I am sure will uncover quite the mystery.

Yours,

E. NYGMA 

[nerdified]

Procedural Notes: Patient #3 (FKA Hugo Jensen)

NOTE: [At the time of this audio recording, Mr. Hugo Jensen (NKA Norville Nerdlinger) has just begun the process, and is restrained. The identity of the speaker is unknown. This transcript is reproduced here in order to assist with identification of this man, who has since disappeared, absconding with an undisclosed amount of the process agonist. Efforts to locate him have, to date, been fruitless. If anyone knows anything about this man or his whereabouts, please report the information to Central Command.]

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

Quiet, now. It’s no use struggling.

I’m not going to hurt you. Quite the opposite.

I see that look in your eyes, like you don’t think I could hurt you. You’re probably right. I’m not much of a fighter. But I know what you think of me, and other guys like me. I’ve been listening to you on the phone, you know. Hacked your telecommunications. What was it that you called me, on that call with the client yesterday?

Oh, yes, I remember. A walking pocket protector. I’ll admit, that was a new one for me. I’ve had “pencil-neck” and “four-eyes” and the good old-fashioned “nerd” lobbed at me before, but “walking pocket-protector”… Heck, it’s got a little poetry to it!

Shh. I know, it feels strange. It’s a little unsettling, at first, I’ll agree. But you’ll get used to it. It’ll go easier for you if you just relax and quit fighting it. In time, you’ll even begin to like it.

I’m sorry about the gag. Unfortunately, it’s just the beginning of the process, so I have to leave it in for…twenty-three more minutes, at least, if my calculations are correct.

Ha! Who am I kidding – my calculations are always correct.

I can see from your eyes that you hate my guts right now. That, too, will change.

You see, what’s about to happen to you isn’t out of the ordinary, or even very noteworthy. As far as I can tell, it happens to a lot of guys, especially those that zip through their twenties and then hit that speed bump called thirty, bank accounts empty and career opportunities shot. Those of us who didn’t win the genetic lottery couldn’t get by just on our looks and our charisma, like you did.

I remember how it felt when I was in high school, and guys like you were all A+ students and perfect jocks, too… gosh, it’s enough to make me swear.

But no. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. You couldn’t just be a jock, be good at sports, and leave the academics to the rest of us. We didn’t ask for much, you know. We just wanted to be left alone in our science labs, and in our tutorials, in our lives.

There's no escaping guys like you. You’re everywhere, and you’re spreading. For a time, we ignored it. Figured it was some kind of anomaly. But it wasn’t – it was a trend. And despite the fact that we didn’t see it coming, we are now prepared for its end.

Like I mentioned – it won’t surprise most people to see you change. Maybe a few of your close friends will worry about you. Express some concern. But by that point, you’ll already have accepted your new self. You’ll be able to say “This is just who I am,” and it’ll be their choice how to proceed. That’s a side benefit, by the way, of the process. You get to find out who your real friends are – and, spoiler alert: they’re not exactly big football fans.

You have to be prepared for some major shake-up in your life, though. The good thing about the process is that it won’t faze you in the slightest. Everything will be gee-whiz gosh-darn super-duper spiffy keen neat-o, if anyone asks, and for you, it will be.

Now, I know those terms are a little outdated. We’ve had to make a bit of an adjustment to the process in your case. The earlier version wasn’t quite strong enough for you, so we’ve had to over-compensate in a few directions. You won’t just be a little bit nerdy, you know, a couple of odd quirks, some new hobbies. For example, Derek – well, that’s his dead name, he goes by Derwood now – Derwood can sometimes get by in normal society. He even kept a few of his old friends. He’s just more into things like superhero movies, and he’s left behind all knowledge or passion for sports. I think I even saw him reading a comic book the other day, come to think of it.

But that’s not going to be you. Oh, sure, you might develop a taste for superhero movies, but if you do, it won’t just be a passing interest. You’ll become a rabid fan. I believe…obsessive…is the operative word, in fact. Yes, you see, that earlier version of the process would have worn off, and you’d have been back to your old self in no time, which would wreak havoc on your psyche, not to mention put our entire operation in jeopardy. We can’t have that.

It looks like some time has passed, but not quite enough for me to remove the gag yet. Do you feel your perfect white teeth shifting around in your gums, almost impatiently? Nod once for yes.

You don’t have to nod at all, not if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to confirm for me what I can already see happening in your eyes. Speaking of your eyes – how’s your vision? I can see you starting to squint every now and then. Trying to see past that blur? Don’t worry. I’ve already got your glasses, right here, for when it gets too bad for you to see. Talk about your Coke-bottle lenses - my calculations again predict that you’ll settle somewhere around…hm…negative six diopters, which is even worse than mine.

To put it simply: you won’t even be able to read the big E on the eye chart without your glasses on.

I know, you’ve never been to the optometrist in your life. You never needed to. And don’t think about getting contact lenses, either. I mean, go ahead and try, if you really want to embarrass yourself.

Oh, I can see it now: timid, nerdy little guy like you, shuffling into the doctor’s office – you say you want to get contact lenses, and they get you in the back for a fitting. They show you how to do it, you know, hold your eyelids apart and then just plop the lens on there. But you have to do it three times before they’ll let you leave with them, and you won’t even be able to get one in, because you’ll keep blinking it out. I wish I could be there to see it, honestly – you, all frustrated, trying to swear, but only able to say things like “Fudge!” and “Gosh darn it!”

It’ll be so beautiful. I’m getting teary just thinking about it.

I’m glad you’re starting to settle down a bit. Let me know when you need your glasses. Maybe while we wait, I’ll get started on your hair. That trendy fade has got to go, and so does that scruff on your face. At the start, you’ll have to shave a lot, but as the process continues, you’ll start producing more of a 5-alpha reductase enzyme. This will convert your testosterone into dihydrotestosterone, or DHT, which will actually miniaturize your follicles. Kind of like using a shrink ray on them! Oh, and there will be no taking of inhibitors, like finasteride or anything like that – our process contains a potent agonist, with an affinity of 0.25 to 0.5 nM for the human androgen receptor.

It’s all very scientific, I assure you. And with the miniaturization of your follicles, your sebaceous glands will begin to over-produce sebum, which results in – you guessed it! Acne. Pimples. Zits. I know you’ve never had to deal with that before, so I’m just preparing you for it now. Pizza-face, I think the popular nickname is. Get ready for a lot of that.

Let’s see…what else can I tell you.... Gosh, this is kind of like the orientation for a new job, isn’t it? Ah, yes. I know. Speaking of jobs...

Yeah, this is the tough part. It’s all very natural, I assure you. Just like with your friends, your co-workers will come to see you in a different way. I know you have quite a few cutthroat underlings who would eat one another alive to get your corner office, and the moment they sense you’re not as much of a threat as you used to be, they’ll swarm.

I give it two weeks, tops, until you’re gone. If you choose that road. Or you could make it much easier on yourself and resign. You won’t be financially ruined – not with all that new information surging through your brain – you’ll be an asset to the right company, the right department. Maybe IT will take you. Or accounting. Maybe you won’t work corporate. Maybe you’ll work retail.

God, that’s cruel even for me. I wouldn’t wish retail on anyone, even a jerk like you. But there’s no telling what could happen. For all I know, once the process has completed, you could end up one of those Geek Squad guys at Best Buy! Have you seen the uniform they have to wear? It’s company-mandated dress code. You’ve seen them, haven’t you? White, short-sleeve, button-down shirt. Black polyester clip-on necktie; black, pleated trousers; black lace-up shoes…and white socks. Yes, white socks, kept completely spotless and bright. All this is enforced, too, with routine inspections, to make sure you’re being compliant!

You see, there’s really an infinity of possibilities for you. If anything, this is a new chance for you – a fresh start. I know it feels scary, all this change. But change is the only constant. Everything is always in flux. Heck, every seven years, your entire body regenerates – every cell is new and different, so why shouldn’t your personality and identity change, too?

It’s logical, isn’t it? Nod once for yes.

Good! You’re starting to come around, aren’t you? Like I said, it won’t be so bad if you just accept it. If you don’t fight it. That sudden urge to position your tongue up behind your teeth when you say ess. Eth. Eth. How your voice keeps breaking, and in the most unfortunate ways, and at the most unfortunate times – all of this is being etched into your muscle memory as I speak to you.

There isn’t much longer now until I can remove your gag, and I can see that the physical alterations are beginning. Too bad all that hard work at the gym all these years is so easily eroded by our process, but then, those muscles were mostly for show, weren’t they? Well, no longer. It isn’t exactly sarcopenia, but it’s close. You’ll be at least one and a half, possibly two, standard deviations below the relevant population mean, and no amount of exercise will restore your former abilities.

Yes, the ropes are looser now, because you’re much smaller. Rapid onset muscle deterioration. You could struggle out of them. Maybe you could even escape. You could try. But there’s no way you’d make it very far without your glasses. Who would believe you, anyway? What would you even say?

Like I said, you might as well give in. It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. And you’ll have me. I’ll be with you for the whole beginning process, so you can acclimate to your newly nerdy life. You won’t be able to continue living in that luxe apartment you’ve got – no, you’ll be moving into a nice little basement apartment I’ve got fixed up for you, in the suburbs outside the city. The landlords have just got it refurbished, with some nice wood paneling, and there’s a spare twin bed that should be just your size! There’s also tons of room on the walls to put up all your posters. You won’t need much room for anything else, really. You definitely won’t be needing that enormous closet of tailored, fitted button-down shirts, or all those sneakers, definitely not those expensive Under Armour boxer-briefs. What a waste. No, the new you is way more frugal with his money, seeing as he’s paid so little of it. The new you doesn’t even think that much about clothes, or fashion.

This must be a lot to handle. Maybe I should have a little mercy on you.

Tell you what. I’ll let you choose your underwear. How’s that, pal? That make you feel any better? Nod once for yes.

See, I’m not that bad. That’s right. So, here. You can choose…Hanes, or Fruit of the Loom?

Oh, I see. You thought I meant what kind of underwear. Haha, no. You’ll be wearing tighty-whities from now on. Sorry, them’s the rules. Besides, you won’t need much support…down there, if you catch my drift!

Don’t look so horrified. You won’t even notice that it’s gone. Mostly. You’ll still have some length, just, you know, not a lot. You won’t be able to call it a “cock” or a “dick” ever again, either. Oh, look how cute – you’re blushing just hearing me say it! You might call it something else, like your ding-a-ling, or your wiener.

Okay, okay, I can tell you’re getting embarrassed, you’ve gone all red and blotchy in your cheeks. We don’t have to talk about the … “no-no place” anymore, little buddy.

All right. Here’s your glasses. I’ll just set them on your nose, for you…there. Wow, they sure do make your eyes look tiny!

I can tell you’re getting near to the end of the process, and I’m curious to see how big your two front teeth have gotten. From that bump in your upper lip…gosh, it looks like you might be giving Bugs Bunny a run for his money!

You’ve really been behaving better, so I’ll bring you a mirror, okay? So you can see for yourself. I must say, it’s already quite the improvement. I wasn’t expecting your hair to turn so red, or get so curly. Maybe if you can’t get a job at Best Buy, you could run away and join the circus as a clown!

I’m just horsing around with you, pal. Don’t pass out on me. You promise not to scream? I hate it when they scream. Nod once for yes.

You’re a little excited, aren’t you? It’s okay. You can tell me. I bet you get a little more excitable than you used to. Maybe you even get a little clumsy, with the loss of all that hand-eye coordination. Trip over your own two feet and go sprawling.

But who knows. There’s so much potential.

And you’re just the beginning, too. Let’s just say that my proposal for introducing you to the process wasn’t well-received by Central. What do they know? They have this power, and they don’t use it. Well, you snooze, you lose, by golly! If you have a gift, you use it, otherwise it goes to waste.

Anyway. Enough of the supervillain speech. You don’t need to know anything more. It’ll probably be wiped out in the massive crush of nerdy trivia about Star Trek and Star Wars that’s going to download into your brain soon, anyway.

So, this is it. Are you ready to see? Nod once for yes, and I’ll pull the cloth off this mirror here.

Alrighty, dweeb, you asked for it. Here goes.

Say salutations to the new you!

[END TRANSCRIPT]

[darkeninganon]

(So, this storyline now has a name; it is the Ender Family AU! Dream’s design was based off @winifreyd and their White Enderman Dream! They are awesome and do amazing artwork, and this story would probably not exist if they did not  share their art! Warning for gore, blood, very heavy torture, passing out (as a fear/pain response), forced drugging/drinking (Potions are canonically drugs/alcohol), unwanted contact (Dream doesn’t like people touching his fur), and (there is no nice way of saying this) flaying. If you spot something else, message me and I will add it and apologize profusely. The beginning is deceptively sweet btw, just as another small warning.)

Ranboo looked between Tommy and Tubbo. His face was burning, but only one side showed a tinge of color.

"You mean you really don't remember staring down Quackity?" Tommy found it hard to believe, and was currently the main person opposing such an excuse.

"Really, I don't! You know how much I hate eye contact."

"He's got a point..."

Michael oinked in agreement. The trio were currently in the zombie piglin's room, Ranboo holding the child as the little monster drew something. Tubbo was kneeling next to the table, head partially resting on said table. Tommy was the only one standing, arms crossed, glaring at Ranboo.

Ranboo sighed, shaking his head. "Even if you don't believe me, it is the truth."

"Oh, I believe you, I just want to know why this is the first time we are hearing about it!" Tommy hissed, throwing his hands up. "I mean, if you hide that, what else are you hiding?!"

"Oh come on Tommy! Ranboo wouldn't-"

"Quite a bit because I would rather NOT be the reason someone kills Tubbo or Michael." Tubbo snapped his head towards Ranboo, horror plastered on his face.

"WHAT?!"

Michael snorted, holding up his picture. It depicted Ranboo holding a red square, and speaking in scribbles. Ranboo groaned as Michael proudly displayed his picture. The baby zombie piglin still had yet to learn to speak, but his writing skills were far beyond where most thought he should be at.

Tubbo stared at the picture, clearly concerned. "Michael, sweetie, have you seen daddy act weird?" Michael nodded, borderline enthusiastically. The little zombie pigling then grabbed a sheet of paper, scribbling most of it in red crayon before writing three large letters on it, and handing it to Ranboo.

Tommy and Tubbo stared.

"So, I guess I blew something up." Ranboo stated, staring at the crudely drawn TNT. He looked back to Tubbo and Tommy; "I think it's about time to tear down the walls of your old house."

"Damnit Ranboo!"

"I'm sorry?!"

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Dream stared, listening to the murmur of Quackity and Sam talking outside the wall of lava. It is a new day, Quackity is back. Dream could only wonder what Quackity was going to do today. Maybe he'll take my teeth, that would make sense. Or perhaps my other eye. Yeah, that sounds like something they could justify doing. Dream sat up as the lava fell away, Sam and Quackity standing at attention. Quackity was decked out in netherite armor. Enchanted netherite armor. Dream's ears fell back as a low growl fell from his chest.

Quackity made his way across the pit of lava, standing across from Dream with nothing in his hands but a potion and a pair of shears. Once the lava covered the opening again, Sam came through, glaring at Dream.

"Huh, what's the special occasion?" Dream smirked, tilting his head. Of course Sam; dear, dear Warden Sam; would want to help Quackity. "Don't tell me I actually scared you two." The prisoner chuckled, glancing between the two.

Quackity held out the potion; it looked like mud mixed with glitter. "Drink this."

"Excuse me?"

"Dream, do as Quackity says. I really don't want to have to force you." Sam stated, monotone. Dream stared at the warden, incredulous.

"No! I'm not drinking anything that crazy moron brings in here!" Sam sighed, striding over to Dream. "Get the hell away from me!" Sam went behind Dream, locking the prisoner's arms in an uncomfortable hold. Dream began yelling, kicking his legs out as Quackity approached. Quackity took Dream's jaw into a tight hold, digging his nails right into the joint and forcing Dream's mouth open. Once that was done, Quackity tore the cork from the bottle, shoving it into Dream's mouth.

Dream gagged, coughing and thrashing in an effort to get the bottle out of his mouth and not swallow the bitter liquid. Eventually, the potion's effects won out over Dream's own desires, his body going limp and his struggles ceasing.

Dream's eye darted around the cell. He wanted to move, wanted to cry out, wanted to not be sitting still. No matter how much he tried though, his body just sat there, even as Quackity removed the bottle and let go of his jaw.

"Hell yeah!" Quackity cheered, throwing the now empty bottle into the lava. "I told you it would work!"

Sam let go, gently resting Dream's head on his lap. "Yeah. You're sure he can't feel anything?" The warden sounded worried as he placed Dream's tongue back in his mouth and closed his jaw.

Quackity chuckled, "Yeah, I'm sure." He dragged his hand through Dream's fur, drawing lines at seemingly random points.

He's lying. Dream wanted to scream, Quackity's hands were cold and he hated as the "visitor" ran against the grain, causing the fur to stand up on end. Sam, he's lying! Please! But he couldn't say anything.

Sam, for his part, was staring at Dream sadly, carefully petting the prisoner as if he didn't co-sign this. He jumped as a hand snatched his wrist, holding it still. Sam looked to Quackity, who was still smiling.

"Seeing as how Dream isn't going to feel it, why don't you feel how soft he is!"

Sam looked at the prisoner, resting helplessly in his lap. Even though Dream's body couldn't move, his eyes were glaring at Sam. Still....

Curiosity won over the Warden as he took off his glove. Even with Dream unable to move, Sam was hesitant to touch the fur. When Quackity had entered the prison, that was all he talked about. It was just fur, what made it so special? What it because it was from Dream, and the prisoner never let anyone touch it?

Quackity groaned, snapping Sam from his thoughts. Without warning, the visitor grabbed Sam's hand and buried it in the mane around Dream's head. Sam could only stare. It was... So freakishly soft.

"Right!?" Sam glanced at Quackity, who was smiling like the cat that got the canary. "Seriously though, seeing as how he's going to be trapped in here for eternity, he really doesn't need this fur. He'll just overheat!"

No, I won't! Sam, please stop this! Tears fell from Dream's eyes, his mind racing. Taking his fur was the one thing he never expected.

Sam nodded, resuming petting Dream. "Just... be as quick as possible."

Quackity nodded as Dream's eyes darted to the man with the shears. "Let's see... Let's start here then!" Quackity stated, opening the shears and pulling Dream's skin right at his hip. Dream watched in horror as Quackity carefully cut a thin layer of skin and fur from his body, pulling and cutting just enough to make a starting point for him to continue. "Man, this is going to take a long while. Sam, would you mind grabbing a few more potions, just to be sure?"

Sam nodded, carefully setting Dream's head down on the obsidian floor, giving the prisoner one last pet before drinking a potion and diving into the lava.

As soon as Sam was gone, Quackity looked at Dream, and slid his hand between the skin he had just cut free, and the lower levels of skin and muscle. Dream tensed, the salt from Quackity's hand burning the fresh wound. "Man, this must really suck for you." The visitor laughed, a cruel smirk coming across his face as he wiggled his fingers in the wound. Dream gave a weak whimper, tear pouring from his eyes as the wound became wider and burned more. "Do you have any idea how hard is was to get the potion just right? Make sure you can't move, can't talk, but also heal you and make sure you can feel it? It was hard, man." Quackity finally removed his hand from the wound, marveling at the lack of blood. "This is probably what Tommy felt like. I have no idea what the afterlife is like, but maybe one day, I'll ask him."

Quackity straightened up as Sam came back, carrying a bag filled to the brim with the potions Quackity had made. The visitor smiled, turning back to Dream and resuming his work. Dream watched, heart racing as he finally saw what his fur and skin hid. Thin muscle hung from bones that showed painfully through in some places. It only took about two minutes for it to look like Dream was wearing a furry shirt or hoodie; a quiet whimper bubbling up from his chest as the first “hem” was finally completed.

Sam snatched a potion from the bag, opening Dream’s mouth and doing his best to make sure the prisoner didn’t drown on the vile liquid. Quackity gave Sam a weird look, getting ready to cut open Dream’s front.

“Really? He has another hour or so on the first potion.” Quackity muttered, pulling the skin up with his fingers, smirking as the muscles underneath twitched in pain.

Sam cast an unseen glance at Quackity, removing the empty bottle and throwing it into the lava. “He must have some form of tolerance, even after all this time. The numbing factor wore off I think.” Sam sounded distant, did Sam even believe his own words? Surely he knew.

“Well then let him deal with it. It’s not our fault he’s weird.” Quackity retaliated, making one final cut right at Dream’s collarbone, stopping as he noticed Sam flinch. “Hey, I’m sure Tommy felt way more pain than whatever little pin pricks this monster is feeling. Need I remind you-”

“No!” Sam winced, “No, I don’t need to be reminded.” He repeated, softer. Through the thick lenses of the mask, Dream could see Sam’s eyes darting between the prisoner and Quackity. Sam went back to petting Dream, unaware he had stopped for so long.

Quackity shrugged, cutting a gracefully curved line around Dream’s collarbones, stopping about halfway on either side. He grabbed Dream’s arms, inspecting both before dropping one to the ground, and making a quick slash around the whole wrist.

Blood poured from the fresh wound, diminishing to a trickle as Sam’s hand wrapped tightly around the small wrist. “Quackity! What the hell?!”

“Wow, language Sam.”

“Screw the language! What the heck were you thinking?! Get the bandages out of the bag now!” Sam glared at the visitor. Removing Dream’s fur was one thing, but getting so close to such areas… Sam would not stand for it.

“Will you relax? Look, it’s already closed!” Quackity pried Sam’s hand away, revealing a thin, bare scar circling Dream’s wrist. “Nothing to get pissy about.” He huffed, grabbing the prisoner’s other hand and doing the same. Sam was quick to cover the wound again, glaring hatefully at Quackity. “Alright. I need you to turn him onto his stomach so I can finish up the neck. I was not going to risk cutting your legs.”

“Quackity…”

“What? Don’t tell me you actually feel bad for this piece of trash.”

Sam looked between the visitor and prisoner. Dream looked terrified. Sam held out his hand. “I’ll take care of it.” Quackity stared at Sam, hesitantly handing him the shears. Quackity watched as the Warden made a shallow cut along the back of the prisoner’s neck, breathing heavily and muttering. Sam practically threw the shears back to Quackity, petting Dream as soon as they left his hands. “There, done.”

Quackity nodded, looking down at the paralyzed prisoner. He struggled to pry Dream’s skin open, humming and inspecting where it connected. Quackity took out a netherite knife, sliding it under the skin and between the muscle.

Dream watched, muscles burning and twitching. A ringing filled his ears, his heart racing, his lungs tight. He couldn’t breathe, and he felt way too hot… no, he was cold… Well, his body was cold, his arms freezing, but his face felt like it was right next to the lava. Sam… Sam something’s wrong… SAM! Sam please! SAM! Dream was suddenly in a void, screaming and wailing filling his head. He blinked, back in the cell. Quackity was further along in removing his skin. He could see his ribs laying right underneath the smooth muscle, his vision flitting to Sam, distress hidden by dark lenses. Sam’s head snapped to look at Quackity, muffled words demanding something. Dream’s mouth was pried open, another bottle shoved down his throat.

Black consumed him again. Back to the cell. Something hard and soft was in his mouth. Sam was holding his head, forcing him to look at the warden. Sam kept calling his name. Black again. Back to Sam. Black again. Sam. Black. Sam. Black. Sam. Black. Cloth?

Dream could feel his mouth was open; he could feel something wrapped around his body, arms, even his legs. Everything hurt. His eyes were wet, not from the cloth.

“S….Sam…?” His voice sounded too quiet. A hands was suddenly placed on his head; a gloveless, unarmored, calloused hand.

“It’s…”

“Sam… I’m sorry… I’m really, really sorry…”

Sam sat there, staring at Dream. Dream’s whole body was covered in tightly bound gauze. He looked almost like a mummy rather than… whatever he was. The only parts of him that still had fur were his head, hands, and knees. Sam had to fight with Quackity over leaving the fur on his knees. Sam sighed, closing his eyes as he took a breath, one hand resting on Dream’s chest while the other continued to pet him. “I know you are. I know.” Sam opened his eyes, staring at the creature laying on the floor before him, “It’s not me you have to apologize to though.”

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Quackity held up the pure white pelt. He had just finished cleaning it.

“Damn.” Quackity turned, smiling wildly at Schlatt. “Where the fuck did you get a coat like that?” The goat-man ghost lit up a cigarette, reaching out and touching the fur. “Again I say this: Damn.”

Quackity laughed, “I got it from my dear friend in prison.” Schlatt paused in his appraisal of the fur, staring at Quackity as if the still living man had grown another head. “Not like he needed it with how hot that place is. Besides,” Quackity pulled the fur away, brushing the soft hairs against his face. He froze, jolting to look at Schlatt, “Did you know his fur was this soft?”

The ghost stared, Quackity had a look to him that made Schlatt happy he was already dead. “No…” He spoke softly, lowering the cigarette he had. “I had no clue.” Schlatt watched as Quackity skipped way, the beautiful white pelt held close. Schlatt shook his head. Not for the first time in his life was he thankful that Quackity was on his side.