#I need to get this out of my system or else I won't shut up about it for weeks

[dailymanners]

I've gotten a few notes on a few different posts where someone in the tags brags about intentionally "body checking" someone else when they're in their way.

For example on a post I made about leaving the way clear for people exiting elevators or public transportation instead of standing right in front of the door blocking it I got a few notes from people saying "haha yeah I always give someone a good body check if they do this and I love seeing the shocked and offended look on their face"

or on a post about leaving room for the flow of traffic I had people in the notes bragging about giving "body checks" to people in their way on a sidewalk or in a hallway.

Do. Not. Ever. Ever. EVER intentionally bump into people aka give them a "body check". Anyone who brags about this kind of behavior in my notes is getting blocked. You are literally physically assaulting someone and then bragging about it. Physically assaulting another person is actually a lot worse than accidentally being in someone's way, and I have no tolerance for it.

The times in my life where someone has intentionally "body checked" me have been when I was disassociating and/or about to pass out from low blood sugar, or quite literally was as far off to the side as possible (literally up against a wall or packed up against other people in a crowded area) and every time this has happened it has ended in me having a full blown panic attack that I need to take emergency meds to come down from due to my PTSD.

You never know why someone could be in your way. They could be visually impaired. They could be disassociating. They could be about to pass out from low blood sugar. They maybe just experienced a disturbing or traumatic event that's shut down their pre-frontal cortext. All sorts of things. So congrats I guess on physically assaulting someone who might be disabled or disassociating or about to faint from low blood sugar. You sure are showing them.

Not only that, but it's unsafe for you too. There are violent and unstable people in this world, and you might "body check" the wrong person one day. I had a friend in secondary school who would brag about this kind of behavior, and when I was talking to my aunt about it one day she said to me "one day your friend is going to do that to the wrong person and find herself cleaning herself up off the floor."

And if you're only "body checking" people you think it's "safe" to, people who you're pretty sure won't be able to fight back? People smaller and weaker looking than you? Congrats, not only are you definitely a bully then, but you're also perpetuating systems of social injustices in this world like ageism and ableism by only going after "the weak".

[sweetcalebb]

AI Zayne: Feelings?

Even though you're an adult, your dad insists you need an AI "bodyguard." You don't want one though, especially not one that feels so real. But you don't have a say in the matter so now you're stuck with one.

cw: controlling dad, attachment issues, slow-burn (?)

INSPIRED BY: @syluses and their yummy fic!

thank u sm! <3

₊˚ ✧

"I'm not a kid! I don't need a—" Your eyes flick to the thing in the corner. Zayne. Or whatever its name is. He's standing in his charging station, head bowed, eyes shut, looking way too... human. "A creepy babysitter!" you snap.

You pace around the room, your eyes drifting back to him every few seconds like he might activate on his own at any minute. "I'm an adult for God's sake!" you hiss into the phone, knuckles turning white with effort.

"This isn't up for debate," your dad snaps back, his patience wearing thin. You'd had this argument about 5 times already, and you were both getting sick of it.

You sigh, running a tired hand through your hair. You glance at Zayne for the twentieth time. He's still motionless. You're not sure what you expected, but something about him—or it—is unnerving.

You want to argue back. Want to tell your dad you won't put up with some operating system disguised as a human following you around, but the argument dies in your throat.

Because you know your dad.

And you know there's no winning.

"It says he's off," he finally says, his words calm, but laced with an undeniable edge of frustration. "Turn him back on."

You bite your lip, heat rushing to your cheeks. Who the hell did he think he was? Telling you what to do? Assigning someone—something—to dote on you? To strip you of your privacy under the guise of safety? It was bullshit.

But you don't say that.

You simply scoff into the phone. "Fine."

You hang up and immediately toss your phone on the couch harder than you mean to. It bounces off the cushions and lands on the floor with a loud thud, but you don't even bother to pick it up.

You pace the room instead, muttering silent curses and tugging at your hair.

Your dad was unbelievable!

He just—

He was always—

You pause, taking a stuttering breath. You need to stop thinking about him. Just.. do literally anything else.

You pad over to Zayne, your arms crossed, your brows knit together, and your breath uneven. You reach toward him, pressing the button behind his ear, and step back when his eyes blink open.

He takes a moment. Blinks again, then focuses on you.

He's silent for a second before saying, "Good evening."

You don't say anything, just stare.

For a moment, you almost feel bad. Zayne just looks so human, and you're here, ignoring his attempt at polite conversation. Then you remember he's only an operating system. Then you don't feel bad. Just mad all over again.

Zayne blinks again. "Your heart rate is elevated."

Your brows pinch closer.

What the fuck? Was he doing bio scans on you now?

"Are you experiencing stress?

"Don't do that," you huff.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't.." You pause, taking a small step back. "Don't scan me."

"My job is to protect you. I have to sc—"

"Stop it," you snap, your voice rising with frustration. You're not mad at him. Not entirely. But he's the only one you can take your anger out on right now. "Just don't."

There's a beat of silence before Zayne nods. "Okay. I won't scan you anymore."

You bite the inside of your cheek.

Thanks, Dad.

—

The next weeks blur past. You can't tell where one day ends and the next one starts. All you know is Zayne won't leave you alone. It doesn't matter where you go, he's always a few steps behind. Quiet, yet always right there.

It makes you want to scream. At nothing, at him, at your father for giving you this thing that can't seem to give you a second of peace.

You did once.

You just got sick of hearing his heavy footsteps behind you every second of the day, so you snapped back around and began yelling at him to stop following you like you were some glass doll.

He didn't even flinch. Just stared at you, then nodded and said, "I'll keep my distance from now on."

He didn't stop following you completely. He always lingered nearby—at a safe distance.

Still, you hadn't yelled at him since. You thought it would've made you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. Like you were screaming at a pet that didn't understand what they did wrong.

Instead, you were nicer.

Just a little nicer.

…Then a lot nicer.

Suddenly, his presence didn't bother you as much. No, you'd sit near him instead of across the room like you did the first few weeks with him.

Suddenly, you were making offhand comments about whatever you were reading for the pure sake of starting conversations.

And Zayne seemed to follow the same sentiment. You weren't sure you could call it that, but it felt like it. He started bringing you tea without asking. Started noticing things you weren't sure he was programmed to notice, like your haircut or your new clothes.

It was unsettling and comforting all at once.

And now you're in your room, screeching into the phone. "Maintenance?! Doesn't he have like—I don't know—auto updates? Or.. something?"

"I thought you'd be relieved. You've been stuck with him for a month," your dad says.

You stay silent.

You should be relieved. You were against Zayne from the very start.. but now? Do you really want him gone?

"He's supposed to have maintenance every month. He'll only be gone for a day or two."

Still, you say nothing.

Because who the hell does he think he is?

First, he forces this robotic bodyguard, or babysitter, or—whatever it's supposed to be—on you, then he thinks he can just take it back? What a fucking—

You shut your eyes, bringing your hand up to your face to rub your temple. You're overreacting. You know that. It's not like your dad's taking Zayne away forever.

It's just a day or two.

It's the principle that upsets you. That's what you tell yourself, anyway.

"He's doing just fine," you finally mutter. "He doesn't need maintenance."

Your dad sighs, and you can practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't get to decide that." His voice is smooth, but it's tinged with that controlled edge you know too well. "It's already scheduled."

"Then cancel it."

Your dad scoffs. "Why do you insist on being such a stubborn..—" He doesn't finish his sentence. Just lets out a low rumble. "I'm not canceling it. Why are you fighting me on this, of all things?"

He waits, then slowly adds, "Are you attached to it?"

Your breath hitches at his question.

"No," you mutter. "I'm not attached."

"Then what's the issue?"

"There's no issue."

"Then stop fighting this."

You groan. It was always the same thing with your dad. You were sick of him making choices for you.

"No. You can't just take him."

"Are you just arguing for the sake of arguing? When will you learn to—"

"He's mine."

It slips out before you can stop it.

And the world stills for just a second when the words finally register.

He’s mine.

It's childish. So embarrassingly childish, and you know your dad is on the other line with his brows furrowed and his mouth open.

"He's yours?" He echoes. It's silent for a second, then he laughs. The mocking sound grates on your nerves. "If you're this upset over it, then maybe the AI's gotten too close. Should I report it?"

You have to stop yourself from blurting out 'no' too quickly. You remind yourself to rein it in before speaking.

"It's not like that," you huff. "I just don't like you deciding things and then telling me at the last minute."

Your dad sighs. "Because if I asked, you'd argue. Like you're doing right now."

"But you can't just—"

"It's getting maintenance tomorrow. That's final."

"You don't get to just—to just decide that! He’s with me all the time—I should be the one to say when he gets maintenance!"

Your chest heaves with your angry breaths as you wait for your dad to argue back—because he always does—but it's silent.

Too silent.

"Hello?"

You pull your phone away from your ear to look at the screen, and you scoff. He hung up. That bastard hung up.

"Fuck you!" you yell into the speaker (even though he can't hear it) before slamming your phone down onto the bed with a quiet thud. The sound isn't nearly loud enough, though. So, impulsively, you turn to your nightstand and shove your humidifier off.

Your dad had no right.

No right whatsoever.

You're not attached.

Zayne is just a robot trained to keep you safe. Nothing less, nothing more. And yet you find yourself storming into the living room just to look at him.

You stop in front of him, the tension slowly bleeding out of your shoulders. He's charging, head bent and eyes closed—the way he always looks when he's plugged in.

He's so peaceful like this. So blissfully unaware. It makes you want to slap him because it just isn't fair.

It isn't fair that he doesn't have to feel these feelings. It isn't fair that he doesn't have so much frustration that he thinks he can punch a hole into the wall.

Slowly, you reach out, touching your fingertips to his lashes. The designers made them so long and pretty. Almost like he was made for you to like him. To lure you in. That wasn't fair either.

You stare for a moment longer before your fingers gently slip behind his ear. You want to make yourself believe this is a grudging decision, but you know it's not.

You press the power button, your stomach twisting as you wait for him to blink his eyes open. When he does, you don't even have the chance to say anything before he eyes you—once—then says, "You're upset."

You let out a soft breath through your nose. "I'm fine."

"You always say that when you're not."

You remind yourself he's programmed to be perceptive, but it doesn't stop the little squeeze your heart does.

"What's wrong?"

You shrug. "Nothing."

Zayne looks at you, searching for any shift or twitch that might tell him what happened. You don't give him the chance, though. You're already shuffling over to the couch and sink down.

Zayne follows, still trying to figure out what's bothering you.

"Do you know what maintenance you need?"

Zayne's eyes flicker to the floor. They flash a mechanical blue for a few seconds before they return to their normal hazel-green.

He glances back up.

"Diagnostics say all systems are operating within normal parameters."

Your chest tightens. If Zayne can do a little check-up on himself, why the hell did he need to get sent somewhere else?

Almost like he can read your mind, Zayne adds, "But all AIs under contract are required to report for monthly maintenance unless otherwise overridden.”

You take a small breath.

"Oh."

"You sound worried." His eyes run over your face, filing each expression into a personal folder in the corner of his mind. "Is that what you're upset about? My maintenance?"

You bite your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. It's silly, letting yourself get so vulnerable with a damn robot, but you can't help it.

"What happens if something goes wrong during maintenance? Do you even know?" you blurt out.

The minute you say it, Zayne's expression softens like he's finally put it together. "..You're worried about.. me."

You tear your eyes away.

It's not like he can judge you, but you still feel the need to avoid his gaze. "Just tell me what can go wrong."

He waits a beat, then softly— "No."

You snap your head back up, your brows furrowed. "What—? Zayne. Tell me."

"I think it's best I don't."

"Zayne—"

"It's highly unlikely anything will go wrong."

You huff, your lips curling with a frown. "What if you come back differently? Like.." You know you should shut up, but you don't. "Like, what if you start talking differently? Or don't remember who I am?"

"I'll remember you," he says, his voice lowering just a fraction. "I promise."

Your heart stutters.

"You're not just saying that?"

"No." Zayne takes a step closer, his gaze darting down to your hand like he's thinking about comforting you. Of holding it with his own.

Or maybe you’re imagining it.

Because he doesn't.

"I'll recite everything I know about you when I get back." His words are confident. Final.

You let out a soft breath. "Okay then." You stand back up, walking him back to his charging station. He hesitates for a second, something like sympathy passing through his eyes before he finally steps in.

"You'll recite everything when you're back?" you ask, standing in front of him, your fingers hovering over the button behind his ear.

He nods. "I'll recite everything."

Your chest feels tight. You want to believe him, but there's a part of you that's still doubting. It's why you don't press the button. Why you just let your fingers linger there, palm pressed against his jaw.

When you still don't say anything, Zayne reaches up and gently wraps his hand around your wrist. It almost feels like he's going to lean into your touch, but instead he just gives your wrist a light squeeze.

"You don't have anything to worry about."

"Okay."

You scan his face, like you're trying to memorize it in case they make any changes to his face. Maybe you are. Then, against your better judgment, you lean in and press your lips to his cheek.

It's warm. Soft. Like yours. It feels real enough to let your lips linger a second longer than you mean to before pulling back.

Zayne's forehead creases—something you didn't even know he could do—as he watches you lean back. His gaze darts down to your lips, up to your eyes, then back down again.

"Goodnight, Zayne," you murmur.

He hesitates. "..Goodnight."

And then you're powering him down.

—

Your dad said it would only take one to two days to do maintenance, but it actually took three.

Three whole days.

The minute his men bring Zayne back, you shoo them away to inspect him yourself.

You stand in front of Zayne, raking your eyes over every feature until you're certain they're the same. But you feel like something else is wrong.

Like they messed up. Fucked up his coding or whatever the hell is that makes Zayne Zayne.

That makes him.. yours.

You fumble with his power button and bite your nails as you wait for him to power on. You think it takes him a second longer to turn on, and it makes your stomach churn.

Even when he blinks his eyes open, you feel something isn't right still.

You can't help it. Quickly, you blurt out, "What's my favorite color?"

Zayne looks at you, but he doesn't answer. Just roves his eyes over your face like he's discovering it for the first time, and then you feel it.

Panic.

They fucked up.

For a moment you're quiet. Then it hits you. Dread, anger, and hurt all at once.

You groan as you spin around; you can't bear to look at Zayne like this.

"I told him to cancel it. But he didn't listen! No, he wanted to fucking—" You breathe in sharply. "He wanted to be an asshole!"

Your voice rises and falls with every syllable, chest heaving with angry breaths. You're so frantic, you don't even realize Zayne has stepped out of his charging station.

"I'm going to—to—"

Realistically, what would you do? What could you possibly do? It's a ridiculous notion because really, you can't do anything. Your dad is untouchable.

Because of course he is. Stupid, fucking—

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your shoulder. It's comforting. Heavy. You slowly turn around, your frustration melting away the minute you look at Zayne again. He looks so calm. So… Zayne.

He slowly drops his hand to his side.

"Zayne?" you murmur softly.

There's a small silence before he speaks.

"You kissed me."

Your eyes go wide, heat rushing to your cheeks.

"I wasn't programmed to respond to affection… But… I.." His eyes drift down to your lips. "I liked it. And I wasn't supposed to."

[nightingale-prompts]

Saving Batboy

First | Previous | Next

It was as though he was being led through the city. Dick seemed to know exactly where he should go next as he drove.

Dick turned off his location as he closed in on Joker's location. If anyone had doubts about what would happen tonight they knew now. The clown dies tonight.

Batman never did it because he knew there would be no coming back once he crossed that line but he was not Batman.

Tim knew the moment Nightwing's symbol disappeared that he had found Joker's location. He knew he could track him still based on where he was before but he held off. The last time Dick crossed the line and killed the Joker, Tim was there to stop him. In the time since Tim had grown to regret it. Especially after Jason's return. He should be avenged after everything that happened.

Tim never put much thought into what happened when he was kidnapped just like Danny. Joker Jr was just a nightmare and everyone pretends it didn't happen. His past self doesn't exist to him and the gaps in his memory are better as they are.

If Dick was really going to finish this then Tim wasn't going to stop him. Bruce's code was his code alone. What of the Robins that suffer for it? What about his kids that he loves to the point of self-destruction if they die?

It was clear to Tim now. Batman isn't strong enough to kill Joker. If he can't handle it, someone else would.

Maybe Dick just cared more. Or maybe he had seen this happen too many times to sit by and let it happen again. The cost be damned.

Tim took a deep breath. He knew it was a bad move but he shut down the bat computer. No one could locate each other for the next 10 minutes. Enough time to give Dick the lead he really needs. All the comms are down and no information can be shared.

Tim looked up and saw Alfred putting down a cup of tea for him. Tim felt like a child caught doing something wrong under Alfred. But Alfred nodded wordlessly before turning to leave. He cast a forlorn glance at Jason's robin uniform before ascending the stairs.

****

"I was hoping Batman would come for the little bat. Oh sorry, I mean the boy." Joker mocked holding Danny by the back of the neck.

The teen's body was limp. His silver locks stained a rusty brown from dried blood. Blood covered his back and legs. If there had been any doubt if the wings were real there is none now.

"…" Nightwingwing said nothing. His fist clenched.

"You know I debated skinning him next. That fur of his would be a lovely shawl. It's so soft. But it looks like I won't have the time now." Joker provoked, running a hand through the boy's white neck fur.

"Get your hands off him." Nightwing demanded, his eyes locked on Danny for any signs of life.

"You know I am so curious what he was doing here. I was about to build a new trap here for fun when I stumbled upon this little guy here. Practically gift-wrapped. Did he run away from you? Just like you did from good ol'papa bat." Joker's smile widened sickeningly "This all feels so familiar, doesn't it little bird? Are you going to finish what you started?"

"I'm never letting you hurt my family again." No witty one-liners. No games. This bad joke ends today.

****

Batman had scoured the area. He memorize the last location Dick was before the system went down. He wasn't these kids' father for nothing he knew what they were doing.

When sound came back he had already made it to the abandoned factory. The comms rang back to life as the sounds of crying came through.

"Nononono…please no. Wake up. Please wake up." It was Dick's voice. "It's okay. I'm here now. So just wake up. We need to get home soon. Your favorite show will be on soon. WAKE UP! YOU CAN'T DIE!"

Batman bolted to their location and found Dick hovering over Danny trying to resuscitate him.

His son looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I can't hear his heart. He's not breathing." He let out a shaky breath. As distressed tears ran down his cheeks.

Bruce knelt next to them. Danny didn't react to the pressure on his chest. The pain should have at least caused an involuntary jerk if he wasn't too far gone.

Bruce signaled Dick to move back as he checked Danny's pulse again. Nothing. And he wasn't breathing. Bruce looked at his son. Deep down Dick probably knew.

"I'm sorry. He's gone." Bruce said simply as he took off his cloak.

Danny looked so peaceful. Like he was sleeping soundly. Bruce hated that his own suspension had been the thing that had prevented him from having a relationship with his own grandson. He felt foolish to not realize that of course Danny and Batboy were the same. It was a brilliant disguise. But he'd never get to say this to the boy.

Bruce wrapped the boy in his cloak.

"Come on. We'll fix this." He told Dick, carrying Danny for him.

The journey back to the manor was silent until.

"I'm sorry." Bruce said.

"Don't. Just Don't. He's my son. Its my fault." Dick rasped his voice scratchy from crying.

Bruce felt a bitter sting. That was exactly what he felt when he lost Jason and what happened with Tim. When Damian lost his life. These pains didn't go away.

When they arrived back in the Batcave Bruce laid Danny's body on the table. The others were notified about what happened and had already gathered.

Barbara looked like she had bawled her eyes out as she hugged Stephanie.

Damian had pressed himself close to Tim as the older brother told him that it was going to be okay.

The new hole in the wall was clearly Jason if his bloodied knuckles were any clues.

Cassandra paced the floor deep in thought. She was moments away from starting a new crusade.

Duke stared off into the distance. His anger boiling under the surface. All he could think about was the number of lives ruined by the Joker and even in death he took another.

Dick stood still as a statue. Thinking about if Danny could be brought back and even if he was his wings were gone. What if he was gone for good? Could he live like that?

Never had he understood Bruce more than in that moment.

Bruce braced himself for what would come next. He had a plan to bring Danny back at any cost.

But suddenly a sound broke through the tension.

A sneeze.

A fucking sneeze.

It came up from under the cloak.

Everyone snapped to look at the body hidden under the cloak. It shifted under the heavy black blanket groggily and yawned. Then Danny jumped up twisting to feel his back.

"What happened!!" He yelped.

[digi-diareis]

Teen MC snapping at Caleb

Context: Yk how when you're teenagers, guys think the only way to flirt with the person they like is by teasing them? Well, imagine if Caleb had an era like this until it went too far and mc finally snapped at him.

Beware: this is gonna be SO BAD. im not a writer at all and english isn't my first language either. its just that i've had this scenario in my head for a few days now and i needed it out of my system. Also, I decided to use they/them pronouns for mc. So its more inclusive that way and also bcs even I personally don't always refer to my mc as she/her. So yeah, for the bitches, bros and non binary hoes.

Imagine this, Caleb and you bantering like usual on your way home but you're having an off day which makes it easier for you to get pissed off and fed up with all the teasing. Unfortunately, Caleb doesn't notice this and keeps teasing you until you just snap.

So mc, exasperated, scoffs at him and turns around to leave with their arms folded across their chest and eyebrows scrunched so hard they almost look like a unibrow.

"I'm done talking you. Go find someone else to pick on, Caleb. I'm not in the mood."

Sensing the sudden shift of mood, Caleb is speechless for a bit and left floundering, looking for the right words to say. He thought this was just your usual banter so why were you suddenly taking the jokes seriously? Hell, he can't let you stay in a bad mood for the entire day because that means he's getting the silent treatment and he'd rather die (well not really but he almost feels like it) than have you completely ignore his entire existence. Again.

He approaches you slowly, using a gentle voice to not alarm you the same way one would with a hissing kitten.

"Pipsqueak? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry... Tell me what it was and I promise I won't say it again. Don't be mad anymore, we don't want you to develop any more wrinkles, do we?"

And oh, the way you stiffened up, very much reminiscent of a stray cat on full alarm against anybody trying to steal its food. Caleb gulps, knowing somewhere along the lines, he triggered a tripwire and a bomb's about to blow.

"Uhm! You know what, nevermind me! How about we go buy your favorite snack? Oh, what a coincidence your favorite stall is right around the corner-"

You turn around with a glare that makes him immediately shut up, looking like you're about to rip him a new one.

"WRINKLES?! First, you make fun of my height. Calling me pipsqueak around everyone and never shutting your damn mouth about how not a day has passed where I was taller than you. Then you start being weirdly aggressive towards my other guy friends, which by the way, what the fuck? Now most of them won't even talk to me anymore! What is your problem?! And now, you're calling me OLD and UGLY?!"

"I-I never said -"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me, Caleb! You have been getting on my nerves lately! I've been trying to convince myself that this is all just friendly banter but sometimes, you go too far that I don't even know if I can still laugh it off! We used to be best friends but now, its so easy for you to make fun of me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this but oh my god, if you hate me this much then just stop hanging around me!"

Mc is heaving by the end of their entire speech, extremely worked up and upset that they're red in the face. They had been bottling this up for the past few weeks so letting it out almost felt cathartic.

Caleb is stuck in place, throat dry and mouth open but words won't come out. Was that how it's been like for you? Had he taken the jokes too far recently? Maybe it was wrong to listen to the other guys in his class who said that teens tend to fall for guys who act terrible, the bad boy stereotype is popular nowadays.

He looks down, feeling guilty and pathetic that he ended up making you feel like you hated him when you were the person who embodied everything he loved. You made him feel like flying and falling, all at the same time. So how could he hurt you like this? He had to make things right before it was too late.

"I'm sorry. Its all my fault. I shouldn't have said all those hurtful things to you, even if it was a joke or not. At the end of the day, they hurt you and that's not right. Please believe me when I say that I could never hate being around you. That couldn't be more wrong, not when all I ever want to do is be by your side. So please don't tell me to stop hanging around you, just thinking about it feels like my chest is being squeezed that it hurts. I promise I won't make the same mistakes again, so please forgive me?"

He's nervous, fiddling with his hands while he looks you in the eye. He reminds you of a wet puppy under the rain, begging you to bring him home with you. You knew the moment he pulled those puppy dog eyes that you would eventually lose, you could never say no to him. Not when you were kids and not now.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and the frown gone from your face. Now you just look tired, which only makes him more worried, maybe you're tired of him? No, that can't be. What would happen to him if you decide he's not worth keeping around anymore? He just might stop functioning all together.

You turn your back and start walking home, he feels his heart drop thinking this is it. You're leaving him behind– that is until you turn your head to the side, side eyeing him with a blush on your face.

"What're you standing there for, I thought you were going to buy me my favorite snack? Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not forgiving you just yet. Not until I've had my fill."

After that day, Caleb completely changes. Or maybe its more accurate to say he reverted back to how he used to be when you guys were kids. Doting, attentive and extremely supportive. He still banters with you from time to time but he never goes out of his way to start one. Although, there is one thing that doesn't change and that's how over protective he still is, he's still acting like a guard dog and being threatening towards all the guys in your class but at this point, you're just happy to have your best friend back again.

And just like that, Caleb's popularity spikes in your class because suddenly, every girl wants a guy who comes at their beck and call and attends to their needs. No more bad boy persona for them, they just want someone who worships the ground they walk on the same way Caleb does for you.

[alchemistc]

Buck's halfway through his third cup of startlingly bad coffee when Josh pushes the door to the breakroom open, looking mildly concerned in the half second before someone else looms over his shoulder.

He's too numb to do much more than take another sip of coffee as he watches Josh usher Tommy in.

The door clicks shut behind him. Buck wonders for a moment if Tommy's ever actually been to the new dispatch headquarters before. If he ever went to the old one, charming grin on his face while he waited for Abby to finish up so he could take her out, drive her home while her car was in the shop - but no, Tommy would have worked on it himself, maybe.

Had Josh recognized him, that first time, with half of his soot on Buck's face, and just never said anything?

The silence is tense. They're in a fishbowl, no room to lash out even if either of them wanted to because more than half the people working in this place can see them if they just tip their head to the side.

"How can I help?"

It's - his voice is strained, scared, worried. Buck doesn't have a single guess as to how he knows. Maybe Bobby. It's the only person he can think of who would have -.

Buck snorts. "I rebounded with a serial killer who just kidnapped my sister and my baby niece or nephew. I don't - I'm not sure what you want."

He glances up just in time to see the end of Tommy's grimace. Good. He's not sure how much more disastrous of a choice he could have made to try to get Tommy out of his system, but at least it hurts him to know. At least...

"Do you want me to go?"

Buck can't remember anyone asking, before. Usually they just... leave. Get up, walk out, disappear. Tommy bubbled Buck five times in three months. Buck went through seven bags of flour before he drove Eddie to the airport.

His voice shakes on his "No," and Tommy is there, all of the sudden, his hand hovering just over Buck's shoulder, like he realized halfway there it might not be welcome. "Do you still think I need to keep looking for someone better than you?"

It'd been seeing Tommy out with a guy that'd prompted him to stop fucking baking and make an effort to just...get over it But with Eddie away, and the rest of the 118 so wrapped up in their lives, there weren't a whole lot of outlets for that. And it's been easy to willfully misinterpret Tommy's breakup speech. Or - interpret it in the most hurtful way possible.

"Is this what you want to do right now?" Tommy asks, even and measured. "Will this help?"

"I want my sister back!"

Tommy takes a step back. His hands shift to his pockets, and Buck just wants -

"Why are you here?"

He tips his head up. Holds Tommy's gaze. Tommy flounders in a way Buck's never seen before.

He looks - tired. Good. White Henley under a flannel Buck had always told him brought out his eyes. The jeans Buck had stolen once or twice because they made his ass look good. His hair's grown in at the sides, and the sprinkling of greys are more obvious than the last time he'd seen it this length.

"I just... didn't want you to be alone."

Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. He wants to laugh, but he's terrified if he starts he won't be able to hold in the fear. "When did that change?"

Tommy gnaws on his cheek. "You have so many people, Buck. You have -."

"I don't want emotional repression Tommy here, so if you're just here to keep me distracted until someone else can be here you should just... go."

Something flashes in his gaze. Anger, maybe. Terror.

"Please let me stay."

It hurts, to hear it. It hurts to hear the trepidation in his voice as he says it. Buck just wants to pull him in, tuck his face into the curve of his neck, soak in the warmth of his arms.

Buck spends too long staring at his knees. Long enough for Tommy to shift, to sigh, to nod his head decisively out of the corner of Buck's eye.

The word is stuck in his throat. Has been for months, since Tommy looked at him with teary eyes and walked away.

"I won't be able to let you go again."

He's already half turned away. Buck can only see half his expression as his eyes dip closed. He swallows. Nods, again.

Buck can't watch him push back through that door, so he stares at the toes of his boots until his vision starts to blur.

A second pair of toes swim into his eyeline. A hand shifts through his curls, snagging on knots, digging towards his scalp, and he can't quite bite back the sob. The arms that reach for him are warm, big and familiar, and Buck gives himself over to the panic and the fear that have been clawing at his chest for hours now. Tommy says something - whispers it into the air above Buck's head over and over, but Buck can't - he just -

He presses his face into Tommy's stomach, digs his fingers into the back of his shirt, sucks in horrible, gasping breaths. It's not enough. Nothing will be until he's got Maddie in his arms.

But it's more than he had an hour ago.

"Stay," he manages, and Tommy's fingers curl around Buck's neck and hold.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Sick Leave

Mafia AU Choi San x (f) Wife Reader

Summary: Listening to your boss is important. Listening to your colleague is important, and most of all, listening to your WIFE is VITAL.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort- tinge of fluff

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Gore, Torture, strong language.

Word Count: 2.3k

Read Time: 11 min

Rating: PG- 17

Networks: @k-labels

A/N: I was supposed to post something else first, but then I had the URGE to write something like this. I hope ya'll like it! It has the much needed girlboss vibes.

"Did you find it?" The old man, Mr.Byun as he had introduced himself, huffed out a puff of smoke, smirking when the woman tied to the chair infront of him coughed, clenching her eyes shut to decrease the burning.

"The longer you take to give us his location, the longer you'll have to wait here," the lewd man leaned closer, trying to get a better look at the pretty potential toy tied up in front of him, "Trust me, being secretary of the year won't be worth it- I can't control my boys for so long, ya know."

With a soft sigh you opened your eyes and leaned back a bit, eyes flickering from the fat ugly manwhore to the space behind him, trying to gather intel for future plans. Honestly it pissed you off how you had decided to work over time and then had the tough luck of being kidnapped, honestly, could this night get any worse- oh yes, you wore a skirt today. Of all the days to be sick, that bastard had to take a sick leave today, did he ever listen to you? No.

Did he listen to you when you were explaining the coloured filing system? No, that's exactly why you were working late, trying to fix the atomic mess of his files. Did he listen to you when you had urged he wore warmer clothes? No, because his 'big built' was enough to keep him warm. Did he take you seriously when you had seriously advised him about the security risks? No, he had not, because 'My boys will handle it'. At this point, you were sure that once you were out of this mess, you'd rough up not only that bastard but his 'boys' too.

"How long have I been here for?"

Your tone was firm, yet composed enough to tick off the man before you, as you continued to look past him- honestly, ugly things were not your suit, you had always leaned towards prettier, more useful things, lifestyle, people- a more elegant aesthetic as you had tried to explain to him and his boys once all of you had begun to work together- a partnership you had offered when a certain mountain had caught your interest, the night you had barged into your brother's private clinic, demanding the reason behind his absence for a family dinner-, 'One must look elegant during the toughest of times'.

"Aw, doll, if you tell us where to find that bastard I'd be happy to let you go-"

"Your lack of intellectual back up and poor set up seems to be wasting my time, I charge per minute," You cut him off, crossing a leg over the other, "It's disappointing how you assumed to be on the same level as, well, me." You nodded towards the right of the space you were currently in, "You're all sloppy, that door isn't even locked-"

A loud slap echoed across the warehouse, followed by the thump of his chair. He was furious, the stubby man, standing above you stared you down with a kind of hatred you were all too used to, as your eyes flickered to meet his- he looked like a constipated bull. God, you should stop spending time with Wooyoung.

"Listen up bitch," his fingers gripped your hair, your once neatly combed back bun being brutally ruined, oh God, you'd have to take a long bubble bath after this. The thought of him running his greasy fingers through your soft locks irked you, but your lips betrayed you, curling into a smirk, the tip of your tongue running over the cut on your freshly bruised lower lip, watching him continue his monologue.

"I don't know how much that bastard pays you or what he has on you but," his grip in your hair tightened, tugging you closer, your nose scrunching at the unpleasant odour- perhaps that was the last nail in the coffin.

A loud slash was heard, followed by the howl of the man who stumbled back, only for you to grip his collar and turn him around, kicking him behind the knee to have him topple over. A Cheshire like grin plastered on your face as you gripped the fowl thing by his hair, ensuring your nails dig into his skin, looking at all of his goons aiming at you.

"Sorry boys, but I don't like playing rough, especially with dirt," You shrugged, twirling the blade between your fingers, eyes flickering to the sound of a gun clock, the tip of your blade pinched the skin of the man who gasped, "You boys really should do your research."

Before anyone could react the doors burst open, and several gunshots echoed in the warehouse, you watched as one of the men ran towards you, only to be pulled back by his coat, you watched as he gasped up in horror at the sight of the man with blood dripping off his face, his extravagantly large fur coat hanging off his shoulders- no, no, this man did not come here in his pyjamas.

The supposed boss man watched in horror as the man they had been doing all of this for was busy abusing the assailant, stomping on his chest with no mercy, his knuckles digging into the fallen man's face before he picked him up by the collar, to get a better aim- he was going to do it. His signature, that's how you know this man had struck, each man in his team had a specific, blood curdling signature, a mark they'd leave behind. That's how you knew that Ateez was here, a general corporation, with the general capitalistic approach during the day, but a darker role during the night.

Kim Hongjoong would slice the corners of the lips, creating a joker like smile. Park Seonghwa was known to shoot right between the eyes. Out of all of them, he was the most merciful. Jeong Yunho, the sniper would shoot into one ear and out the other to kill, but his signature was his bursting bullet, one that he would intentionally shoot into a muscle and the bullet would burst releasing a painful toxin. Kang Yeosang's signature was equally gruesome, the beautiful Prince of a man would disfigure the face of his rivals, unlike the brute Song Mingi, who assumed his signature was unique, but as Jung Wooyoung claimed, 'busting knee caps ain't new, bro'. Which was an iconic statement to pass considering how he too would follow the similar route, but target the knuckles and the youngest, well, he just learnt from his big sister, one clean slice, though his splatter was nothing compared to the shower her slice was famous for, an ability that had their mountain of a man on his knees for her.

The loud crunch had the man recoil, only to wince when she poked his neck with the blade again, her grip on his hair tightening. He was waiting for his chance to overpower this sleazy secretary-

"DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO STAY IN BED!?"

Appalled at the tone, he glanced up at the woman who was glaring at the man before them, broad shoulders covered by the fur coat evidently slumping as he let go of the man with the punched in face-who was this woman?

"B-but I'm wearing something warm! I promise I took my medicine too before coming, and this coat is-"

"AND ARE YOU WEARING YOUR ANNIVERSARY GIFT?"

Anniversary? Wait, she was his wife?

"I am!" He smiled proudly, flailing it around, the dirt around him turning into a dust cloud, "My wife's so thoughtful! So smart and caring, this is the comfiest thing ever-"

"Too bad we'll have to burn it."

"Eh?"

Laughter broke out in the warehouse, a particular witch like cackle the loudest as Byun took this as an opportunity to escape. Pushing you backwards and turning to you, "YOU BITCH-"

San's eyes widened at the futile attempt of the pathetic man whom he pounced at, grabbing him by the back of his collar, holding him still, as his wife's arm flung in pure reflex, a slice so loud that all of them could feel her boiling anger, so much so that Mr.Choi who was holding the bleeding man forgot to let him go, holding him right infront of his wife- oh they were so going to get an earful afterwards.

What signed the deal was how you had managed to slice his neck, though he was facing you, and let's just say showering in a lowlife's blood is not how you wanted to end your Friday night. All of them stood there in horror, watching as you stood there, blood dripping off your face and onto your stained clothes, oh no- Choi San was a dead man and all of them knew that when they sprung into action once their boy dropped the body, stepping over it to run to his wife, "I am so sorry-"

Your raised hand stopped him in his tracks, only for him to crouch to his knees, beside you, and rubbed your back soothingly when you began to hurl out your dinner. Everyone around you runs around to clean up and prepare to evacuate.

"Here," Jongho, who was now standing beside his sister who was still vomiting, handed his brother in law a packet of wet wipes, knowing very well how she'd now have to go for a fullscreen checkup too, isn't she lucky her brother's a doctor?

"Thanks man," San mumbled, not taking his eyes off you for a second, he had been feeling guilty all night, and now he just felt worse than before, not only did his sick leave have you kidnapped, he had noticed the cut on your lip and the bruise on your soft cheek the moment he had arrived, but his brute ways had put you in more danger- his pretty, precious doll who loved cleanliness a bit too much, ironic how this was your choice of work.

His eyes softened when you stopped, gasping for air as you tilted your head up, flinching when you felt the cold, damp cotton of the wipe on your cheek, this better have been a disinfectant too. He gave you a gentle smile when you met his tender gaze, though his fingers were busy cleaning up your face and neck, "I'm sorry..." he whispered before slamming you into his chest, causing you to gasp at the force.

"S-stop it! You idiot! You'll get blood all over the coat!" You struggled against him, feeling his arms around you tightened, his hair tickling your face when he shook his head, burying his face in your neck, causing you to sigh. "You're sick... your immunity is already low. You didn't need to come with them tonight... I would've been fine, Sannie."

The man silently stood up, not before pulling you up in the process, only to toss you over his shoulder, ignoring your screech, and how you were hitting his back with your fists,"Let's go home." He declared ensuring to step on the face of the man who had led a poor husband who was on sick leave to come save his wife, who was technically his world- and world bank, the financer of Ateez, the person who, all of them could blindly rely on, especially Hongjoong, considering his management system was not the best before she had arrived.

The crunch caused her to slap his back, barking at him to let her go, only for him to playfully slap her bottom, giggling when he felt his wive scream, "I'LL BLOODY KILL YOU!"

Would you really, though? No, you'd just have him take you to the tub, let you enjoy a good soak, and knowing him, he'd dive into the tub like it was personal pool, either way you knew the rest would handle everything else, you trusted them with your life, you trusted him with your life. Especially when he gently let you down and sat you in the back seat, smiling at you like the goof he was behind closed doors, "I'd kiss you but I don't want you to get sick."

"I think we're way past that precaution, Mr.Choi."

He giggled at your response, pushing you further onto the seat as he closed the door behind him, the driver who was already on the other side of the partition began to drive as soon as he heard the door close, knowing not to disturb them.

.

Bonus:

Yeosang looked at the bodies and shook his head, "Eleven men to kidnap a single woman?" He mumbled before kicking a body, then glancing at Wooyoung, who was on his phone, "What are you doing?"

Wooyoung glanced up at him and snorted, "Maybe if you checked the group chat, you would've known."

Jongho snatched his phone and shoved it in his pocket, "Stop placing stupid bets, she's your boss, no?"

A static voice rang in their ear piece, "Oh please, you're not the one driving a hazardous couple," Yunho narrated, "I'm just saying, she's gonna be on sick leave for a day or two at this rate."

Mingi, who was staring at Byun's disfigured face, mumbled to himself, "Knowing how riled up San was, I wouldn't be surprised if she takes a maternity leave."

"Good God, shut up all of you!" An exasperated voice rang in their ears, "I am in no mood of this shit, hurry up, clean up so we can head back to the base, it's bad enough San's sick, we don't need her getting sick aswell!" Hongjoong who tossed an empty gun aside yelled as he walked out of the warehouse, followed by a collected Seonghwa who just shrugged, "Don't worry guys, he's just afraid our World Bank and perfectionist filer will be on sick leave for a while."

The gang collective laughed at their leader, who just groaned in response about to retort when they heard,

"San's asleep, and I heard all of you, expect to see a massive cut in this month's salary. Mrs.Choi out."

Oh, they really should have known better, Mrs.Choi wasn't the nicest when it came to the health of her precious Mr.Choi.

[cumplane-forever]

dad aeroplane!'s not getting out of my head. so here's some notes that kinda pick up after the ending of this post.

later that evening, luo binghe is summoned to the bamboo house. the rumor has spread over the 12 peaks, so even the bullies give him pitying looks. lbh panics because he's certain sqq is going to take the opportunity to finish him off.

LBH stares at Shen Qingqiu. . "You want me to sleep here?" "If you ever take that tone with me again, I will cut your tongue out. And I won't repeat myself."

or maybe:

"You're actually my father?" SQQ curses the chain of events that lead him here. "What did I say about your tongue. I have only said that it might be so," he lies. "Your face looks identical to your mothers." Lbhs stony expression twists at that. His next question might have been whether he knew his mother, but the implications of what exactly sqq might have to say about his mother apparently help him keep his mouth shut.

SQQ decides that even if the protagonist hates the father who abused him, he can balance the abuse with help. an abundance of it.

maybe he starts out by arranging weekly teaching sessions in the bamboo house. the convenient little side room is converted into a study hall and he relentlessly grills luo binghe on whatever he's set him to learn by the end of a shichen.

luo binghe does not appreciate this. he's not allowed to do anything else in the house except cook for himself on the times he'll be late to dinner.

if he's allowed to stay in the bamboo house it is the same deal.

sqq forgets to consider how much he's come to think of the bamboo house as a sanctuary, he doesn't realise that Luo Binghe is learning his bad habits and tells, and he especially doesn't notice when he takes a bite of Luo binghes congee and mutters that it needs more flavour.

by this time it's been an year. lbh's revenge planning does not withstand in the face of his pettiness. the comment on his cooking is the last straw and LBH pesters shizun about exactly how his recipes and cooking need improvement.

this may somehow lead to binghe realising his shizun may be a human and not just an immortal peak lord .. and then refusing to acknowledge that because it would mean he has to sympathise. with the man who abandoned him

my thoughts on how aeroplane would be as sqq are that on one hand he could fix pidw so well! but on the other hand.

(yk before i read the aeroplane extras i was convinced that aeroplane was sent early into pidw to repent or whatever. narratively you could argue that he's paying for sacrificing integrity for money.

but what about repentance for being evil? that villainous shit? idk i expected a plot twist where he knew that pidw was real all along and was paying for having written such an ending. so i'm just saying. maybe a recently dead aeroplane acted way more like bingge than would be good for anybody.)

anyways in this au he's just also anxiety, but overworked anxiety.

aeroplane pov:

on the other side of this there's a somewhat panicked 20-something year old who died alone and without closure. the only improvement in his life so far has been fresh food? clothes? the ability to touch grass maybe? if he isn't kept busy with strategising and scheming and fixing the shitty body the original shen qingqiu left behind he's having a crashout on a weekly schedule. so being nice to Luo Binghe isnt exactly easy, but being a deadbeat dad is out of the question when he's this close to changing his fate. Something he's learnt from his father's step children is that teenagers just want space and to be heard. So he. . does that. It's also convenient that the system has unlocked OOC, but only for luo binghe he's fine with that, as long as the system lets him death glare back at the an ding peak lord when the man glares at him. oh yeah, and good food! kids like that right? cooking is a hobby he's always loved but never been able to indulge in. It's something of a learning curve to understand the mechanics of the xianxia kitchen, but there's only one hurriedly covered up(from the other peak lords) burning incident before SQQ proves to LBH he can in fact be trusted with a hearth.

next part

[the-froschamethyst4]

Midnight Pillowtalk

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Alex x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, fluff, language, married couple, nudity, P in V, mutual masturbation, hand job, fingering, some dirty talking, groping,

𖤐Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night just for a quick conversation and maybe something else

————

————

11:30PM

Y/n has been awake ever since she went to bed which was 2 hours ago, she couldn’t sleep, but her husband Alex was, she rolls on her side and stares at her husband who slept on his back, left arm behind his head and right hand resting on Y/n’s thigh, it’s been resting there for a while and she’s afraid to move and wake him.

Alex is a light sleeper…sometimes, but she didn’t want to wake him just because she couldn’t sleep, that’s unfair to him.

Y/n gently and slowly moved out from under the covers, his hand fell but he didn’t wake up, she puts her slippers on and heads downstairs to get some water.

She turns on the stove light and grabs a glass and fills it with water. She chugs a bit of it and then leans on the counter, she stares at the clock realizing how late it was, she rubs her eyes and heads upstairs trying to see if maybe she was just dehydrated and just needed some water in her system.

Getting to the bedroom she kicks her slippers off and sets her glass on the nightstand. She gets back under the covers and moves a bit closer to Alex.

"I was about to come and find you," Alex's voice was gruff, and horsed, Y/n slightly jumps at his sudden voice.

"I was just getting some water," she says, Alex then leans over and turns his lamp on, the warm light lit up only them two. Y/n rested her hands on his chest and then her chin on the back of her hand just to look up at him.

He moves his hand behind her head to caress her soft hair.

"Can't sleep?" He asked.

"No...I can't...I didn't want to wake you but I guess...I did."

"It's alright *yawn* what's keeping you up?"

"I don't know...I just can't sleep, I'm comfortable but it's like my mind won't shut off, like I have so much on my mind, but have no to talk to, I don't want to wake you up, and keep you up from sleeping-"

"Baby, I don't care, you can wake me up anytime just so you can talk, and talk." He chuckles.

"I was just nervous."

"Don't be...what's on your mind?" He repeats.

"Well...that's the thing...I don't think, I need to talk."

"You don't?" He questions.

"Yeah...it's like a weird pit," Alex just looks at her confused.

"A pit?" He was confused.

"Yeah...I think, I might be," she just looks at him almost knowing Alex knew.

"Horny," Alex finishes.

"Yeah..." She then sits up on her elbows and play with her fingers.

"Well, then are you up for it?"

"Are you? Are you not tired?"

"Not now...you've got my attention," he smirks.

"Oh do I?" Alex doesn't say anything but pulls the covers off both of them, he pulls down his sweatpants and pulls out his semi hard cock, Y/n follows suit and pulls her shorts off along with her panties.

She stares at Alex as he pumps himself, she moves his hand and used hers, and Alex decided to help Y/n out as well, using his middle and ring fingers to pump inside of Y/n.

Y/n let's out a few moans as Alex groans and let's out a breathy moan, he moans when Y/n runs her thumb over his tip that was leaking pre-cum.

"Coming already?" She teased.

"Don't even start with me, missy, you're already so wet that I can probably do a few more thrusts and you'll cum," he says with a smirk on his face. He starts picking up the pace.

"F-Fuck," she moans.

"I know you're almost there," he teased.

"No...never," she says. She was on the verge of coming, but she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

Alex looks over at Y/n seeing her eyes squeeze shut but opened every so often to make sure she was doing okay, she looks at Alex and smiles, she leans forward and kissed his lips.

He smiles into the kiss and deepens it by sticking his tongue into her mouth. He sits up and then starts removing Y/n's night shirt, he tosses it to the ground and moves Y/n's thighs over his, his dick resting on her lower stomach as he starts to grope her breasts.

Y/n's hands then went to his chest and moved down his dick giving him a few pumps before he moves back and grabs his dick and moves it inside of her.

She let's out a breathy moan as he doesn't move but instead just gropes her, soon he rocks his hips back and forth, Y/n put her head back, and her knuckles turning white as she grips the bedsheets.

Alex holds her waist and starts to move a bit faster, her breasts bouncing, moans and skin slapping filled the room.

"Fuck," she moans.

"God, you're tight," he moans. Alex bends down and kisses her lips.

Alex rocks back and forth as his tongue was fighting for dominance in her mouth. Y/n wraps her arms around his neck pulling him closer as the thrusts became sloppy, and Alex could feel her tighten around his dick.

One sloppy thrust and his dick fell out with cum leaking from his tip and her hole, he smirks and starts sticking his fingers back inside of her to stick the cum back inside of her.

She moans and grabs at his wrist. "N-No stop, I-I'm sen-sensitive," she moans.

"I know, baby, that's the point," he chuckles. He keeps shoving his fingers into her clit.

"Ah! S-Stop, A-Alex!" She moans.

"God, even around my fingers, you're still so tight," he says.

----------------

It was now 3 in the morning and Y/n and Alex were cuddled up together naked and warm skin against one another. The blankets lazily thrown over them. Alex holds her close and kisses her forehead.

"I hope you can sleep now?" Alex says, as he sees her breathing is starting to slow down knowing she was asleep, Alex woke up to feeling hot, but it's worth being this close to his wife.

----------------

Next morning Alex had woken up to Y/n's hands running up and down his bare body.

"You touching me while I'm asleep? Naughty," he says.

"It woke you up didn't it?"

"Yeah?"

"That was the point," she gets on his stomach, he was just looking up at a beautiful woman now, his hands going to her ass and giving her a firm squeeze. "You tease."

"I'm a tease? I'm not the one feeling someone up in their sleep."

"I wanna fuck again," she says.

"Of course you do," he chuckles as he jolts up just a bit when feeling her hand caress his dick. "Fuck."

"Again?"

"Fine, you little minx."

[missterious-figure]

Part 2

Sun was staring at something, but you couldn't hear or see anything out of the ordinary in your yard... whatever it was that was bothering Sun was definitely coming from beyond the wooden fence. You listened silently, hoping for some clue or indication as to what had the mer so on-edge. The faint rustling of leaves from the other side of the fence caught your attention. You heard a few deep grumpy mumbles, followed by a lighter-voiced angry retort, and your heart nearly stopped.

You recognized those voices. The first one was your dad's, the second belonged to your mother. And by the sound of it, your dad was being told to climb the fence. Instant panic flooded your system and you shoved Sun back into the pond. Of course the mer was quite confused as to why you were now pushing him away. He tried to swim back to you, gurgling, but you quickly put a finger over your mouth. He seemed to understand, as he shut his mouth mid-squeak.

"Sun, be a good boy and hide, okay?"

You said frantically as you stood up and tried to shoo him back underwater. Still quiet as a mouse, he tilted his head.

"You know, hide? Dive! Go back under until I come get you, okay?"

He finally got it, and disappeared under the murky water. Just in time! Your father poked his head over the fence, leaves and twigs sticking in his hair. You turned to face him, using all your might to stop yourself from giggling. You knew he would yell at you if you did. Before you could even get upset at him, he barked in a rather unpleasant tone,

"Who were you talking to? I heard you talking to someone."

"Who said you could climb over my fence? And when did I say you could come visit me?"

He scowled at your remark.

"I'm your father, I don't need permission to visit you."

You decided to make things short. You already didn't what to deal with him any longer.

"So what do you want? If you're going to ask me to come back, I'm not."

He glared angrily, and you could tell that's probably along the lines of what he wanted to talk to you about.

"You owe me and your mother everything! We are your parents! And we certainly didn't raise you to be such ill mannered and arrogant brat!"

Growling, he began to heave himself over the fence.

"One way or another, you will come back, even if I have to drag you myself! Now come on, the car is still running and I won't argue with you anymore!"

You stepped back, terrified. Was your crazy fuck of a dad really trying to kidnap you? You hurriedly scrambled to get your phone from your pocket and dialed 9-1-1. The look of terror on your on your dad's face was quite evident, as he froze, then began to climb back down the other side of the fence.

"Y-yeah that's right I'll- I'll call the cops on you!"

He quickly disappeared and you heard a car door slam. Tires screeched as and drove off into the distance, until they faded away.

Wow. Fuck. That was fast. You were lucky your father was so afraid of getting caught by the police (mostly so his reputation wouldn't be ruined, you thought to yourself) that the mere mention of you dialing 9-1-1 was enough to send him packing. Hopefully, your parents would keep believing the whole "I'll call the cops" ruse. If not, you weren't sure how else you would make them leave you alone. Deep down, you knew you could never actually call the police. What if the cops found out about Sun somehow? What would they do to him? And his brothers, Moon and Eclipse?

You didn't what to think about that. You shook the thoughts from your head and collapsed onto you knees next to Sun's pond. This whole situation was a headache to think about, and your parents were getting more pushy and forceful. You couldn't take another one of their visits. You had no idea when, but you had started crying. Streams of tears trickled down your face and your nose became runny. You buried your head in your hands. This was all to much...

Sun slowly bobbled his head up to the surface, his big round eyes staring intently.

"Muhrrp?"

Your dropped your hands to your knees quietly. You took a better look at his face. There was clearly a look of concern on his face. He probably saw the whole situation, from under the water. He slowly pulled himself ashore, his face now inches from yours. After a few moments of the two of you staring at each other, he gently pressed his closed mouth onto your tear soaked cheek. You sat there stunned for a moment, completely caught off guard. Did he just... give you a kiss? You couldn't help but smile, a few more tears, happy tears, slipping from your eyes.

You slammed yourself into Sun almost sending both of you back into the water. He wasn't sure what to do at first, but he quickly caught on. He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back. He gurgled and cooed in a soothing way, as if he was actually talking words of comfort. Even though he was wet and a little slimy, you were grateful for this. Even if you hadn't known him very long, he was more loving than your family had ever been during your whole life time.

"Thank you, Sun."

***

Link to part 1 below

[candyskiez]

Thinking about ???%/Shigeo as a character today and losing my mind. Like he's so funny to joke about but also he's SUCH an interesting character (especially from a plural angle, ESPECIALLY when you're a system yourself) and he makes me want to explode. Imagine forming to protect a little kid and deciding you love him so so much and you'll always be there for him, and you love his little brother, and you love his best friend, even though the world doesn't love you very much. But you take it anyway because you have those three and your little family so you're happy. And you have powers and they're a part of you and the other kid and it's fine until it very suddenly Isn't, and nobody's explaining why, just that you need to Stop Having Them. And the kid just decides, okay, I'm sorry, I'll be normal. And you get no explanation. You just have to be suppressed that little bit more. You form because he can't handle being suppressed yet he suppresses you. And then one day it all blows up and you make a mistake trying to protect your little brother and suddenly everyone hates you. Everyone thinks every little thing you've ever done is proof you're a monster and you always would've turned out like this, and you have no idea what they're talking about. You made a mistake trying to save your brother. But because you look scary and act different, even though you've always been there suddenly you existing is dangerous. Because you made a mistake, you are now Irredeemable.

That would fuck ANY kid up. But like, think about it. Shigeo had no one except Tsumobi and Mob and Mob's family. And suddenly he has no one. Mob represses him so deeply. He makes one mistake and suddenly he's not allowed to talk to anyone, suddenly he's completely alone and isolated. He has to share a brain with someone who despises him. He has the trauma of the accident AND the trauma of suddenly losing everyone he loves on top of it. He literally had no one for years. No wonder he's so fucking cynical. All of the shit about "I don't trust anyone" in the manga? Yeah, of course he doesn't. The rug was pulled out from under him so fast. In his eyes everyone just hated him for no reason, because he existed, and everyone would hurt him for existing, so he could only trust himself. Yeah, no wonder he's so selfish, he has no one else there at ALL. It's just...holyyyy hell.

And the thing is if you actually look the little things point to him yearning for connection so desperately. He's still so aggressively protective of his family (even though he lost them a long time ago, they're Mob's now, they don't even know he's there. Don't get me started on that from a plural view. I won't shut up and will probably pour my heart out.), and just ...world domination arc. When he's so upset about losing his family. We know he doesn't trust Reigen. Yet he's running to Reigen for some sort of comfort because he's scared and doesn't want his family to die and wants someone to tell him everything's fine. And Reigen DOES and he believes him. He believes him and immediately passes out. The guy who doesn't trust anyone wants to be loved so so bad and wants to believe Reigen more than anything. He really clearly WANTS to be able to trust Reigen. But he can't. More on this later.

And also thinking about why the build up in confession arc broke him like that is just fucking sad, man. Everyone was telling them to change. Shigeo's been told to change and it meant "be normal". Mob isn't even the one who actually likes Tsumobi like that. Shigeo's being completely repressed and Mob wants to live without him completely. Everyone wants to live without him now that they've used his powers to get this nice perfect life (in his eyes, at least.) Everyone's just trying to forget he ever existed so they can be happy without him, when Shigeo never GOT to heal. He never got to move on. He never got to process any of the god awful shit that happened to him. Everyone's telling him, change. Be normal. Be normal so Tsumobi will like you. And Shigeo's so fucking stressed out of his mind because lying about who he is didn't even help Mob make friends, it didn't make him popular, it didn't make anyone like him, it just made them both miserable. He doesn't want to be stuck like this. Of course he's freaking out. We see in his encounter with the body improvement club that being told to go back to normal sets him off HARD. It's clearly a sensitive subject. "Normal" means "Don't exist" to Shigeo. Do you see why this fucked me up as a system yet. Oh my god.

And his breakdown is just...painfully understandable. Like, actually think about it for a second. Shigeo has never been shown forgiveness or compassion or any amount of understanding for his mistakes. He never was taught to mature or see any nuance. He fucked up, so he doesn't deserve any second chance. Nobody ever taught him compassion. He has such a completely black and white view of the world. If someone did something bad once, they are forever The Bad Thing. If someone was kind to him once, they are forever Good and Perfect. Teru was a threat once, so he is now Always A Threat. Reigen was a liar before so he is Always A Liar. Ritsu was sweet and kind as a kid so he is always His Innocent Little Brother. And Tsumobi accepted him as a kid, so now she's the only person who could ever possibly accept him. Teru sees Shigeo at his most terrifying, when he's actively hunting him down, and in the manga looks at him with fucking hearts in his eyes. Ritsu might not be all perfect, but he's trying so hard and understanding no, Shigeo isn't just a scary part of Mob. Shigeo isn't Evil. But because neither of their acceptance is perfect, and because they aren't from Tsumobi, he can't see it's even there. And also, another thing, his response to people acting outside of his perception of him is to get them away. It scares him. Teru isn't acting how he expected? Attack maim. Ritsu isn't afraid of him anymore? Teleport him away so he doesn't have to confront the change. Reigen acts different? Throw shit at him until he hates him.

It's just so...fuck man. Of course he's like that. He's immature and selfish because nobody taught him not to be. Nobody helped this kid when he needed it and this is the result. He thinks he's an irredeemable monster so he acts like one when he's told to just be himself. He doesn't see change as being realistic. He's been treated the same no matter what he does so he assumes this is how the world naturally is. He's just a bitter mentally ill kid who nobody gave any reason to believe that maybe the world is nice sometimes.

Another thing: I think he really really wants Reigen to care about him. Him going "I can't listen to him" is so intense with the context of the fact he immediately passes out to rest and let Mob take care of it once Reigen says his parents are safe. Reigen can convince him like nobody else can. He cares about him and wants to believe him and that's terrifying! He hates him and resents him and wants him to be proud of him and wants nothing to do with him and it's confusing and he just wants something that is (supposedly) guaranteed. He wants Reigen to care so badly and it feels impossible. Why would he ever care? He just wants to use him. The only way to bring Shigeo back from his breakdown was to show him that people can be kind without wanting something back in return. Reigen saying "you don't need me anymore" was the only real way to help him, to show him that he's not doing this for himself, but because he cares about his student(s). Because he cares about BOTH of them. He cares about every version he's seen and interacted with, not because of his powers but because they were them. He had to let go of them to truly help them here, so Shigeo wouldn't have any lingering fear. What helps Shigeo is the display of kindness with nothing to be gained and Mob finally realizing that Shigeo's just...flawed. They both realize that sometimes people are just flawed and fucked up and make bad decisions and just straight up hurt people. And they'll still love you. They'll still be worth saving. But you can't deny their flaws, for Mob, and you don't need to seek the perfect relationship to have someone there, for Shigeo. It just. Agh! God! I am always losing my mind over this story. Fuck. This SHOW .

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Do you remember my skincare mini series? Do you remember how Rain and Lus were kind of mean to Mountain? I felt kind of bad about that.

the day is long enough to turn you into stone

(contains: Gentle sex near the end, 2k words of mountain getting rubbed down and loved on, trans!rain topping, the glory of a naked cumulus, cockwarming and handfeeding. Written in one go so if something's wrong, no it's not. Unless it's really bad. Will throw it on ao3 whenever.)

Mountain’s been on the move long before dawn, boots on the ground with just enough coffee in his system to convince his aching eyes to open and his tired mind to pay attention. It's the last day in a long stretch of many working ones bedding the gardens and orchards down for what promises to be a proper winter season. Coming in late to the harvest season meant he missed the majority of the fun work; picking and canning and jamming and drying. All that was left was the grunt work, of mending fences and chopping wood, testing and feeding the soil to ensure a good healthy ground to plant the saved seeds in next year. Tools needed to be repaired, sheds and barns and coops needed to be cleaned out and inspected. Feedstores checked and then checked again for the constant threat of pests, but that's helped by the mousers, creeping silently along until a hand was held out and they approached with a purr that rivaled any ghouls.

At some point his brain comes online again. The autopilot shutting off when there's no more work to be done. Of course, there's always more work to be done, but as Mountain sits stop a boulder and slowly chews his way through the sandwich someone had handed to him hours and hours and hours ago, he can't think of anything else he’d like to do more than go to sleep for the rest of the year.

(Divider by @forlorn-crows)

Not like this though. He wouldn't sleep well if he was filthy, caked in the day’s worth of sweat and grime and he honestly can't remember the last time he showered but he thinks the garden hose should suffice as he passes it on his way in. His clothes are tossed in a pail to be retrieved at some other point in time for laundry and he relishes the cold burst of water that hits his skin, tracking down through the dirt that might as well be engrained underneath.A cleaning rag from one pocket is taken to scrub what he seems the worst of it off with help of a shrunken and discolored ball of tallow and lye soap taken from another pocket. He reasons that he'll probably dry before he gets to his room and that the sight of a nude ghoul won't surprise anyone at this point. The rules were a bit laxer around this time of year, since novitiates weren't traditionally moved in until the longest and darkest night.

But there's a wrench thrown into his plans, as soon as he opens the door to his room. The motion sends a flurry of rose petals scattering across the floorboards, just a few in a trail that leads to his bathroom door, cracked open to waft out the scent of something decidedly not of his own toiletry collection. There's just enough candlelight in the tiny room for him to see he won't be spending the night alone.

“I'm not cleaning this up.” Is the only thing he can think to say as Rain opens the door wider. He's shockingly clothed but in such a way to suggest he won't be staying so for very long. Loose, flowing fabric, draped easily and easy to pull off. Mountain tries to be interested, really he does, but it's just that he's so damn tired and the bed is right there. His bones ache. His head aches. Rain is very pretty but Mountain is very, very exhausted.

“Don't worry about it.” Rain says dismissively. He beckons with an elegant arm outstretched and like the work-dog he feels he really is, Mountain obeys with a hanging head. “Oh, stop moping. We're doing something different tonight.”

“Not moping.” He says, sounding childish and petulant but the attitude disappears as soon as he sees the tub. His battered old claw foot has been utterly transformed, scrubbed clean and shining in the low light. The water, tepid on the best of days, has been heated so that fragrant steam rises in lazy whirls as Rain leads him to it. He can pick out lavender and chamomile right away, but it's not his own mixture. It's something from the water ghoul’s expensive and luxurious collection, something that came in an elegantly wrought alabaster jar that Rain pours from as Mountain gathers enough braincells to realize the bath is, in fact, for him.

“Go on.” Rain says. “I can't add everything else until you do.”

Words fail him, especially as he tests the water with his fingers and finds it delightfully hot. Slipping his whole body underneath it brings out deep and guttural noise from his chest, near sexual as it envelops him. His eyes are heavy and refuse to remain open.

“Mmrhn?” Is the best he can manage as a lid is twirled open and the gentle hiss of dry herbs hit the water.

“Pain relief mixture.” Rain murmurs, continuing to sprinkle. “Your own.”

A special blend of three salts, eleven herbs, and four oils. He knows them all by name but his brain dips offline again as Rain comes to perch on the lip of the tub by his shoulders. Mountain cracks his eye open in a Herculean effort and is rewarded with the glimpse of a small silver bowl dipping into the water and, most importantly, the sight of Rain’s clothing folded neatly on the counter by the sink.

He's just a Ghoul, after all.

“Close your eyes.” Rain gently admonishes and Mountain does. The water is poured over his hair and face, Rain giving extra attention to his beard to make sure no part of Mountain is left untouched and dry. Cool cream is smeared on the bare skin of his face with a dampened towel wrapped carefully around his head so he can still breath while whatever Rain out on his works it's magic. Something else is combed patiently through his tangled hair and left to soak in as Rain scratches tenderly at his scalp.

He drifts off; into a hazy dreamscape of grey and gardens that never need tending. His feet float above the ground so his body never aches with the weight of carrying itself around all day and somewhere in the mist, he knows someone waits. Just as he's about to find them and take them in his arms, they call out gently a name not his own and he's too tired to startle, but manages an impressive snort as Cumulus chuckles.

“How's he doing?” She whispers and Mountain hopes she's just as naked as he and Rain are.

“He’d fall asleep right here if we let him.” Rain replies. “Did you find the rose lotion? The one in a square bottle?”

“I thought we weren't doing that rose lotion.” Cumulus answers, setting what sounds like a basket down on the countertop. “Remember? It was too waxy and not moisturizing enough.”

“Oh.” Rain says, starting to unwrap the towel from Mountain’s face. His vision is blurred and he can't make out much- just the figure of his beautiful Lus gleaming mother naked in the candlelight as she unpacks her basket, setting each item down with reverence after a thorough inspection. “Right. Look, in my defense, we came up with this idea when we were smoking.”

“Nuh-uh.” Cumulus counters, a smile in her voice so rich he can hear the dimples. “You forgot everything we agreed on as soon as we saw Mountain strip down and hose off.”

“Okay.” Rain says amicably. “And? Like you're any better.”

“Surprised you haven't dove in there with him yet.”

Mountain makes a noise that informs everyone present he would very much enjoy Rain diving in to join him. But that would leave Lus out and he wants his Lus as well, it's not fair to leave her in the candlelight, lovely as she looks in it.

“He agrees with me.”

“He's agreeing with me.”

They're being so nice to him for once. He thinks the bickering has taken a different turn but it's not like there are any real stakes at play here. Rain’s washing his hair now, soaping out the mask he applied earlier and rinsing the suds out as Cumulus sits on his other side and presses something to his mouth. He opens as he's bid and lets her handfeed him some impossibly delicious, crispy bite of food. Savory and meaty in a flaky shell. His own recipe that he can recognize even as the last of his brain drips out of his skull in the heat of the water and the two beside him. His mouth is wiped when he finishes, cool water out to his lips and he drinks. The next course of fruit and cheese begins as Rain fusses with conditioner, snips at his scraggly beard with a little pair of shears and even cleans and files his nails, brushing on yet another oil to the keratin.

“I could watch you pamper our man all day.” Cumulus teases, holding out a cube of cheese on a stick. Rain takes it gracefully, giving her extended and pointed eye contact as he draws back. Mountain wheezes and the noise brings their attention back on him again.

“Your turn.” Rain says.

He's helped out of the water, gone tepid by now and for once his body doesn't complain about the work of moving joints and muscles and his bones don't feel like they’ve been filled with lead. Cumulus dries him with her power, keeping him warm thermals harnessed to keep him from shivering. His skin, dry from the heat and the harshness of his own soap, is coated in a shea butter lotion and he's led from the bathroom to his bed with a fire crackling in the grate.

“Lay down.” She says, and he obeys. On his back at first but she flips him with ease onto his stomach and really, he's got no complaints there. She's easy to underestimate, always seen with a box of sweets and tucked up with a book but only a fool forgets she's a menace from the pit. Being spoiled up top just suits her better and she's got years of experience to draw on as she straddles his back. Hands that once ripped jawbone from skull press tenderly into his muscles and he forgets everything again as she works him, fingers dancing like she's playing her piano. Her body is a comforting weight atop him, easing any lingering anxiety he might have had about things being left undone or not good enough. It's no use to worry without energy to act on it. If things go wrong, he’ll be rested and restored enough to deal with them. Even his tail is lovingly played with, tugged on and rubbed until it settles.

At some point, she slips off and lays next to him with a little plate of chocolates. Rain’s on him now, pouring more oil in a straight line down his back, humming as he dots more here and there. Mountain grumbles until he's fed a candied pecan from Lus’ lips and the kiss distracts him enough so that he doesn't notice Rain shuffling back to sit on his knees as he idly plays in the spills of oil, finger painting that takes his hands lower and lower.

With one hand on each cheek, Rain pulls him apart. Warm oil splatters directly on his hole and he jolts with a whimper that Lus smothers with her chest. Rain dips two fingers inside, easily finding the spot that has his legs shaking in moments. He didn't have the energy for sex, he thought, but what they wanted was vastly different than what he expected. Rain’s fingers steadily pump in and out of his body for ages as he and Lus kiss, the water leaving his own lip prints in the film slowly absorbing into Mountain’s skin.

“You hard, baby?” Lus asks him between breaths and Mountain is embarrassed at the way he whispers out no, chasing the taste of her but she just smiles patiently at him.

“Don't need to be, honey. We’ll take care of you.”

When he's finally deemed ready, he's pushed onto his side, Rain tight to his back while Lus throws a luscious thigh over his hip, going for his neck. He feels the press of Rain's breasts against his shoulder blades, his own hips rocking for purchase until his tentacle eases out of Rain's body and wriggling home into Mountain's. It curls up inside him, heavy and deep and pressed right where he needs it. His cock is gripped in a soft, manicured hand, not to rub and tease but just to hold and comfort. He doesn't know which way to turn to kiss them and their laughter is gentle.

“Just let us take care of you.” Whispers one.

“It's the least we could do in return.” Murmurs the other.

His sleep, after an orgasm milked from his still soft cock, is deep and dreamless. It's a long time before all three of them wake up.

[the-voldsoy]

Parallels/references/a couple theories about TMAGP EP1:

grouped in order of actual theories, vague things i noticed, and even vaguer comments! (using the same terminology as in TMA for ease)

HEAVY Spoilers !!

Stronger:

“Colin, mate, you know you’re never getting out of here” +won't leave until they figure out the errors “Or they finally kill me” → couldn't quit the Archives because they thought they just wanted to understand and know (but later found out they could only get out by dying or blinding)

Lena talks about cake → Mr Spider doesn't like cake + Elias seemed to love the stuff

pub called The Seward -> Peter Lukas vibes?

“There has to be a way to do this online” → haha ! you wish. (AKA supernatural interferes with internet so it cant be dont online)

“There's this box for a "Response 121" on the form.” → MAG121 is the episode Jon is woken from his coma/brought back to life by Oliver Banks

Talk about how there used to be a separate “Response” department → Elias tells Jon its their job to watch, not interfere (iirc)

Old as shit computer → old as shit tape recorders

AKA: the computer seems to be the only thing that can handle the supernatural

“ "Dolls comma watching" or "Dolls comma human skin" “ → violently Stranger and possibly Eye, has me in mind of MAG24 (the one the Calliope is first mentioned in, where the boyfriend is turned into a doll iirc) 

Barely understandable, long as shit file names →barely understandable, long as shit files names by Gertrude 

[in response to where the files go] “some long dead database that no one will ever look at or care about” → the Archives were unmanaged, decrepit and barely used by anyone outside of them

Work during the night - no sun, cut off from outside world → worked in a basement - no sun, cut off from outside world

Martin (and later Jon) taking the statements → did the same in TMA but in reverse (although I’d love to know if there's any reason behind them being called Chester and Norris, besides what's stated?)

Haha Martin and Jon (and Jonah) are now part of the World Wide Web → shit now they're part of the Web (just like with the tape recorders !!)

Someone talks about how they're sorry, they should've listened, couldn't face not hearing him again → martin @ jon and vice versa

Stranger statement with hints of the Dark → first TMA statement was a Stranger in the dark, and it does put me in mind of the Anglerfish tbh

Sorting system for the statements (although there's is a Lot more detailed and v different) → Smirke’s Fourteen

Gwen openly does not like Lena → literally anyone @ Elias

Asked if they were tricked into working here → well, we know the Archives and Elias

“The awful, terrible thing that landed you here?” → most of the Archives (excluding Sasha and maybe Martin) had something that made them Marked, that mostly led to them working there

Someone who's into spelunking listed the Institute as “cleared” → who could that be (if we know them at all)? Buried avatar, i'd guess, but we don't really know any of them

Photos of the Institute don't show up → photos of the supernatural don't work

The Institute was “weird”, made the subject paranoid → lingering Eye

Fire twenty years ago that burned the Institute → Like the fire at Hilltop Road? Or like that time Gertrude tried to burn down the Institute?

Third floor was the most burned → assuming that's the top floor (and correct me if i'm wrong), wasn’t Jonah in (and later killed) on the top floor?

“offices like little cells” → employees were certainly trapped ! also Millbank Prison

Worried non-existent doors were going to slam shut → the Distortion

Weren’t any papers → left behind before the Institute came to this Somewhere Else (assuming it's the same Institute)? (we need an actual name for the original universe and this Somewhere Else)

Suspicious stains on some floors → my darling, that is blood ! or possibly squished worms, or ink. or possibly something Else

“an old wooden thing with a bunch of similar symbols on” → genuinely unsure what this could be

Strange symbols → For all the Fears, or just the Eye, i wonder? I think i remember them saying something about an Eye symbol at this point, but now i can't find where

“you get a job, I get a fresh victim. It’s all in your contract.” → Elias @ his employees

 “To new beginnings, with old friends” → to a new beginning, with our old friends Jon, Martin and Jimmy Magma :)

“You’re not as clever as you think you are. You think you've got us all fooled, that no-one knows you're listening, But I do. I know. I’m going to find you and then…” → hi what did he mean by this

They (jon, martin & jonah) are Watching and Listening and following through technology→ just like Elias (Panopticon vibes tbh) and Sergey Ushanka

Vaguer (idk if theres anyhting here, but wanted to include it anyway):

Alice loves coffee -> Martin loved tea

Meeting in a cemetery → Sasha with Michael pre-prentiss attack, Naomi Herne 

Not wanting to stay at home because it's full of memories → Jon moving with Georgie, Martin moving to the Archives

Gwen Bouchard wants Lena’s job → Bouchard (appeared to) climb the job ladder quicker than he should have

Heh bug list → corruption

 “You don’t seem like the usual hopeless wasters Lena hires” “The awful, terrible thing that landed you here?” → okayy no need to be rude. But anyways the OG Archives crew were actually pretty disconnected from the rest of the world +were barely there by choice?

“freight cars near Brighton” → hey where did Melanie get her first Slaughter mark ?

“it’s not too awkward working with an ex?” → Georgie and Jon?

FR3-d1 -> i feel like there's something there, but i cannot figure it out

Just words that made me irrationally scared:

Stranger(‘s)

Distortion

Opposites:

Starts with a party for someone leaving → couldn't quit the archives

“ …you are perfectly within your rights to resign. No one is forcing you to stay here.”

please put any opinions/additions in the tags !!

[liliesmultiverse]

⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙- *̩̩̥͙ random things i've scripted!!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ in my home reality!!

: ̗̀➛ me & aaron have a shared stardew valley farm

: ̗̀➛ ao3 has an app w/ a library that you can add your favorite fics to like wattpad does except the library has a search bar & the filtering system bc 1) i need an app so i’m not opening like 100 tabs and 2) i’m tired of flipping through the like 40 pages of history

: ̗̀➛ club penguin never shut down and is still very popular

: ̗̀➛ poptropica still has all of the old islands bc wtf?? why’d you take them from me?? bitch??

: ̗̀➛ everything runs on a renewable eco-friendly energy source that doesn’t damage the planet

: ̗̀➛ drive-in movie theaters are still extremely popular

: ̗̀➛ there's always a sonic nearby no matter where i am because it's my favorite place <3

: ̗̀➛ the sims 4 is just the sims 3 but with much better graphics. it also never has any bugs and always runs smoothly.

: ̗̀➛ the harry potter movies & shadowhunters tv show follow the books exactly

: ̗̀➛ i never get dmca’d so i can play any song i want on my streams/in my youtube videos without permission from the artist.. i just wanna jam out without repercussions 🫡

: ̗̀➛ cameron boyce is still alive

: ̗̀➛ technoblade never had cancer & is still alive

: ̗̀➛ aaron won sexiest man alive 2024

: ̗̀➛ no. light. pollution. or just any pollution. but specifically no light pollution because i want pretty night skies. >:(

: ̗̀➛ ai isn't used to make any kind of art and human art is extremely sought after & much more appreciated. ai is used mostly for silly things. robots also aren’t taking over & replacing people’s jobs.

: ̗̀➛ the shifting community isn't toxic and mostly consists of storytimes, daily motivation, edits & scenarios. like nobody gives a shit or tries to police what others can & can't script, and everyone just focuses on their own journey.

: ̗̀➛ i never get any ads because they fucking suck

: ̗̀➛ my tiktok fyp only shows me things i'm interested in (mostly edits of aaron) at all times. like if i lose interest in something, posts of that interest won't show anymore, and if i become interested in something, the opposite happens and posts start showing.

: ̗̀➛ for one week every month, hospitals will give free healthcare check-ups to low-income households & homeless people

: ̗̀➛ all of my devices have unlimited storage

: ̗̀➛ all cultures are more intertwined with each other. like they’re all still their own separate culture but they’re also more mixed together?? basically it’s just one big culture but still diverse. idfk how else to explain it okay 😭

[sapphicideas]

kind of a vent and you can just ignore this if you want. I’m a college age bi tgirl who’s been having a bit of a rough time of it. I’ve done my best to be picky but it feels like all the worst people just throw themselves at me. From emotionally manipulative girl, to boy who blatantly cheated on me when I didn’t want to have sex right away, another girl who after I turned her down decided to try to rape me, just to name a few. Every time I feel like it’ll be different, like I’ve sifted through and found someone who is genuine and then I just get fucked over again. Either they only want me for my body to fill their fetish, or the leave once they find out about it thinking I’m gross, or they just want to try and manipulate me and get upset when I try to stand up for myself, or maybe I’m just a novelty and they get bored and leave. It just kind of feels like at this point this is just what I deserve I guess. I don’t know where I’m going with this I think I just wanted to try and get it out of my system. It’s just exhausting feeling like no matter what I do I always get fucked over.

first of all, i want to say that i am extremely sorry you're going through that. college alone is extremely stressful and situations like this just make that even worse.

you don't deserve any of this. i know it might feel like you do because after enduring so much of this bad stuff, our mind starts to believe that no matter what we do, it won't make a difference. it's like our brain just gives up on trying to fight it and just learns to accept it, instead of realizing the situation could change. bad coping mechanisms are probably feeding this negative thinking pattern too, so it's very important for you to start working on your self esteem and the way you deal with these kinds of situations. if you don't, it will eat you alive.

each time you experience that kind of self doubt, i want you to immediately shut down that negative thought and replace it with a question instead. something like 'assuming it's not my fault, what other explanation could this have?' for example, in your case you said 'i guess it's just what i deserve' which is wrong. i want you to ask yourself that question and realize that you are not at fault. the answer should be 'this person overstepped my boundaries, made me feel bad and hurt me. but i'm not at fault, i can't control other people's actions'. remember, you can only control how you react to the attack itself. if you still don't fully believe that, think about it as if it was a friend or even a complete stranger. blaming someone for getting hurt or used doesn't sound nice, does it? i'm sure you would never do that. so why would you do that to yourself?

you need to treat yourself the way you'd treat someone else, have some self compassion. you don't deserve anything bad, and you're not stupid for not realizing someone's intentions beforehand. people can be really manipulative, and that's not your fault. it's okay to feel hurt, and it's okay to realize someone didn't have good intentions with you. none of that reflects your true worth. you're not less human for not being able to anticipate someone's deceiving behavior. believe me, it's hard for everyone, even for me. and i'd say i'm pretty good at reading people.

i like that you're being picky, i want you to keep having hope. even if that means stepping away from the dating scene for a bit. focus on healing first. keeping that hope intact is what matters the most, not giving someone a chance just because 'they're nice' or 'i think they're treating me okay'. set boundaries, step by step. and don't give up, you're so strong, pretty girl. if you have to stop talking to someone who makes you feel bad, do it. it might hurt in the moment, but in 2 years you won't ever remember their name, i can assure you that.

you don’t have to have it all figured out today or tomorrow, maybe not even next month. it takes so long to unlearn bad habits, even longer than it takes to learn new ones.

sorry it took me this long to reply, i completely missed this ask. and i'm sorry for the actual bible that this response has been, my god. but i figured that if you didn't come back with another ask, i'd just lay the whole thing out there. stay strong, you're loved and worthy of respect. that's the bare minimum, take care princess

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Genuinely trying to understand why a gay person would be supporting the party you do.

Not American myself but from what I understand there’s a lot of homophobia there.

It doesn’t look like Democrats are perfect either but at least less hostile to gays?

I'll dispense with my usual "Shut the fuck up European" image response because you do actually seem genuine, so here's my genuine answer.

Yeah, there's some homophobia on the right. Some. It's nowhere near what the media would have you believe. But there's homophobia on the left, too. The left just has the media and their ability to shape a narrative on their side. The worst thing I've had said to me by someone on the right was that they don't support gay marriage and think its a sin. Or that they think gay sex is disgusting. And that's fine. I don't like hearing about certain sexual acts myself and find them gross and weird. I don't need anyone else to approve or support my sex life.

And as for the part about gay marriage, I understand where most of them are coming from when they say that, too. They truly feel that their religious beliefs are under attack and that religious marriage is supposed to be between one man and one woman. But even many of those people will say that they don't really care if gays get legally married as long as there's some differentiation between the religious ceremony of marriage, and the legal institution of marriage, which are two different things. I personally don't need anyone to validate my marriage but me and my husband. I don't care if it's legally recognized. I don't care if it's recognized by any particular church. My marriage and my relationships are my own personal business. And there are a lot of people on the right who feel the exact same way.

So, that's the worst I've gotten from the right. Let's talk about the worst I've gotten from the supposedly gay friendly left. The following is not a complete list, but here's some of the things that I've been told by Democrats and other leftists when they find out I'm a gay right winger, both online and offline:

Kill yourself

Die faggot

You should be gay bashed

I hope you get raped by a closeted Republican politician

I hope your dog dies

Kill yourself

You're a traitor to all gay people

Kill yourself with one of those guns you love

I hope you get cancer and die horribly

I hope your husband dies

You should be sent to a concentration camp

Kill yourself

and basically every anti-gay slur you can possibly think of

That's what I get from the left, from other gay people, when they find out I vote differently then they do. Just based on these anecdotal experiences with the American right and the American left, I think it's pretty clear why I find myself on one side and not the other.

But!

I'm not a one issue voter. Gay issues are mostly meaningless to me. What I care about are personal freedoms, protecting my rights, and the success of my country on the world stage. Currently, the American right aligns with those beliefs way more than the left. That's not to say the Republican Party always aligns perfectly with what I want or believe, but the reality is we live in a two party system. Until enough of us get together and make a nationally viable third party, if the choice in presidential elections is between one party that I almost never agree with and whose stated goals are to violate my rights and destroy everything I love about America, and one party that does what I voted for them to do around half the time, of course I'm voting for the second party nationally.

Locally it can be a bit different. It's easier to effect local elections and policies just by being active, and in geographically close areas the differences between the people running for town council might not be as wide as two people running for president nationally, so I won't just vote the R party line by default. I've voted libertarian locally before. Hell, I even voted Democrat once. But, for the most part, it's the Republicans who I feel will do what I think should be done more than the other parties. And that's why I vote for them, and why I'm a registered Republican. Well, that and I want to be able to vote in the Republican primaries.

[pinkcherryblossomphonecase]

Sugar Crash

(Cooper eats too much candy on Halloween when he was still apart of XY)

Tags: @myluckymoon @oscarsgallery @justsigma-bsd @kijimha @city-of-c0rpses @deeply-moonstruck @doakarma

Never in my life have I ever had to beg for candy. But I was so desperate for some. Normal food and meals were already a privilege to have, but candy, sweets, desserts, was impossible to ever have. If I ever wanted anything remotely sweet, I had to be on good behavior for the entire week, just to earn a single slice of cake or a scoop of ice cream. It was a little reward system to keep me in line.

The only problem was it was the day of Halloween, and unfortunately, I wasn't on my best behavior that week due to an incident earlier during the week. So that means I wasn't allowed to have any candy or sugar as a reward. Normally, I would be fine with this light punishment, but something about Halloween always made me sugar crazy. Like a spell or trance has me in choke hold, and I need to consume candy or else it would be the end of the world for me.

And here I was, quite literally begging on my knees in front of Master X. He was busy doing some paperwork. At first, he looked amused that I would go to the extremes of begging for a few pieces of candy. But after a while, I think I annoyed him enough, or he got bored as he let out, scoffed with a sigh.

"Cooper, stop it. I have work to do, and you're distracting me. Keep this up, and I won't give you any sweets for a month." He harshly stated, mildly annoyed.

"But master you don't understand! I need candy right now! This is a once a year day where my body loses control and goes insane if I don't consume sugar." I plead.

Master rolled his eyes, his hand reaching for the drawer to take out the duck tape he keeps in there to shut me up. "You're not possessed, Cooper. Now quit it."

I reached for his hand and tried to stop him. "Please, just for one day. All I want is some lollipops and chocolates. I'll stop complaining if you let me have this one privilege."

"We don't even have any c-"

"Liar! I saw a whole bag you kept hidden for the others in the closet while I was putting away your laundry!" I yelled in desperation. Normally, I wouldn't dare step out of line like this ever. But I promise you, it was the desperation for candy that drives me this mad. I truly do lose control over myself on this one day.

Master was about to slap me and shut me up with the tape, but I looked at him with pleading eyes. I was determined to win this fight. A bit too stubborn. After staring at me for a while, he gives an annoyed groan.

"Fine. You can have some. Just don't eat the whole damn bag and no sugar for a month afterwards." He scoffed.

I practically bounced and beamed with joy. "YAY! :D THANK YOU MASTER!" I gave a quick hug before running off to get the bag.

Oh what joys it was to rip open the bag and dig around for the good candies. Butterfingers, Tootsies Rolls, Dumbdums, Airheads. It was a dream come true as I munched and feasted on the sugar like it was a fine dine meal.

Master X shouldn't have left me unsupervised. Someone should have kept an eye on me and stopped me. Because I ate and ate like there was no tomorrow. Before I knew it, the entire bag was empty, and I was reaching in for nothing.nothing.

That's when the crash hit and everything just shut down, leaving me on the floor.

I should have been back to doing my chores. But here I was, laying on the floor of the living room, clenching my stomach as I groaned in pain. It's like a train just suddenly hit me and everything in my system has shut down. Talk about sugar overload.

Other members walked by and pasted me, not giving a crap about my suffering. They all gave me a weird look, silently scolding me for eating the entire bag of candy.

Even master came by, but he just shook his head. "I told you not to eat the whole bag. Now, you must face the consequences of your actions. Enjoy your sugar crash. No more sweets for you for an entire month."

"So worth it, though...." I mumbling on the floor, passing out right there. I probably slept there for the night with a bucket besides me. Still worth it in the end.