#I'm really fucking nervous because everyone will probably think I'm just a kid and that I'm actually terrible at my job

[transmascsnearyou]

On my way to some teamleading seminar and I'm wearing a bright purple video game shirt an orange Beanie and sometimes I think it wasn't a good idea to let me make fashion choices by myself...

But I'm thinking I'm already going to be the youngest person there so might as well make the others feel out of touch.

Like watch me arriving 5 minutes late with an overpriced coffee and tell these people that I managed to get their job in less than a year when they've been working 5+ years to get to a position like this.

[jji-lee]

as he sat on your pink fluffy couch, haechan wondered how the hell he got himself in this situation. he fidgeted in his seat, silence eating him alive. he looked up quickly, catching a glimpse of you before immediately ducking his head back down.

if he had known he'd been called over to get stared down by five very attractive individuals, he probably would've ignored the job offer and forced himself to live with the burden of poverty. you five had been looking over at him and whispering to one another for the past ten minutes, leaving him sat there, tense and sweaty.

.

he had been greeted at the door by the short pretty boy, huang renjun, kinda mean but nice enough to appear welcoming. and then he was guided into your bedroom by a taller bulkier male, lee jeno, kind smile but kinda intimidating. as he waited for "the boss" to be out of the bathroom (that's what everyone had been calling you), he was questioned by another pretty boy, na jaemin. he asked him about photography which helped ease his nerves.

"donghyuck, you're like a camera god, don't look so nervous, there's no one better for this job than you!"

he wish he knew what the job actually was, but he'd just have to wait for "the boss" to be ready. he also wishes that you'd hurry up because during the wait, a female had appeared. she was dressed in all black, outfit simple yet very fashionable, aeri uchinaga or giselle which she preferred to be called. hyuck avoided eye contact with her as best as he could, only mumbling a little hi, eyes focused on the super interesting piece of lint on his pants.

.

when you had finally come in hyuck made the mistake of looking up, swallowing thick as he stared you down. you were gorgeous wow, well you were all gorgeous, but you, you were something out of his wet dreams. your cute little outfit snug tight against your body, wait was that appropriate for a job interview?

"taaa-daaa!"

you spun around on your heels, hands on your hips as you posed for everyone to see. hyuck's mouth went dry as he watched you.

"stop putting on a show you're scaring the poor kid, hurry up so we can do the interview."

jaemin rushed you onto the bed facing hyuck. you leaned forward from your seat reaching your hand out to greet haechan.

"hey hyuck-"

he blushed at the nickname.

"nice to meet you, i'm y/n, the one actually hiring you."

he shook your hand quickly, pulling his own back like he had just been burned.

"nice to meet you too, y/n."

he avoided eye contact eyes drifting towards your cleavage as you bent in front of him. haechan shut his eyes bringing his hands onto his lap to hide his arousal, are you a fucking teenager get a grip! you giggled sitting back down on the bed as your other four friends joined you, and that's how it began.

.

haechan feels like he's been sitting there for hours listening to you all whisper, occasional pushes and shoves being exchanged between the five of you. renjun was the first to speak, clearing his throat before starting,

"i'm gonna be blunt with you lee donghyuck. y/n is a cam girl and we want you to record her streams for her-"

"and occasionally take her sexy twitter posts!"

"yes... like giselle said, and take pictures of her. she's going to be nude almost all of the time, or as close to naked as she can get. can you handle that?"

hyuck thinks maybe god hates him, or maybe he really loves him because what the actual hell is going on. he stared at the five of you eyes wide, processing what renjun had just said.

"look now you've scared him!"

jaemin slapped renjun's thigh, an apologetic smile on his face.

"i wish i could make this better for you donghyuck, but i don't think there's any way to sugar coat this."

haechan bit his lip, looking towards you.

.

you knew from the moment you had walked in that donghyuck had zero experience with women. the way he avoided eye contact and the way he stole glances at your breasts and bare legs. so the shock on his face at the job description was more than expected, what you didn't expect to feel so bad for him. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, ready to run away at the slightest threat.

"everyone out."

your friends looked at you confused as you pointed to the door.

"you heard me everyone out. now- no not you hyuck sit down."

you watched as he nervously sat back down, ready to leave at your command. your friends exchanged glances as they exited the room, unsure of what you were planning on doing.

.

haechan could feel the heat rise in his body as you shut the door behind them. why on earth did you want to be alone with him?

he tried to calm his breathing as he watched you kneel in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs, dick twitching at the touch, for the love of god lee donghyuck relax.

"hey, hyuck look at me, please?"

he sighed before raising his gaze to meet your eyes, a gentle smile on your lips.

"i know this sounds crazy, and i know i should have told you what the job was before you came."

he nodded in agreement, a giggle leaving you lips,

"so, lee donghyuck, right now i am y/n y/l/n the college student, but when i do my job i am craftykitty the camgirl."

wait- you were who? craftykitty? the camgirl that kept him up for countless nights, moaning into his pillows so his roommates wouldn't hear him? the camgirl that he spends hundreds of dollars on? his dream camgirl that is kneeled in front of his hands on his thighs? he stared at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

"i've seen your work and i know you're capable of doing the job right hyuck, but it's up to you okay? i've been doing this cam stuff for a while but this is my first time actually telling someone who i am, so please if you don't want the job can you at least keep my identity a secret?"

.

you let out a nervous laugh, forgetting that donghyuck hadn't signed the NDA yet. what are you even rambling about telling a complete stranger your identity and you don't even know if he'll take the job-

"i'll do it."

now it was your turn to looked shocked. his cheeks were flushed and his nervousness was clear in the way he picked at the fur on your couch.

"i'll do it, just, i just need some time to adjust, i want my focus to be 100% through the lens, i'll be okay as long as i look at you through the camera."

you pushed yourself off the floor, a wide smile on your lips,

"perfect! we can do whatever you want hyuck! you can have that damn camera stuck to your eyes if you want!"

you sprinted towards the door hitting it harshly, yelps coming from the other side of it.

"i know you guys were listening! he said he'll do it! get the paperwork!"

you turned back to him quickly,

"how about we do some practice shots so you can get warmed up, hm?"

truthfully haechan wanted to say no, he wanted nothing more than to run back to his dorm and shove his hand down his pants, your face still clear in his mind. but as he looked up at your bright smile he fears that he might agree to anything you say, all you had to do was ask.

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> 3. chat spam mommy

previous -> masterlist -> next

notes: literally rewrote this like 10 times i am struggling guys 😭 i wrote like 3 midterm essays today i don't have brain power. but for nerd hyuck i will make an exception, hope you guys are liking it!

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyuckiebb-blog , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @nanaxwi , @yesohhsehun , @prettybluei , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @peterm4rker , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @cyjzzl , @livingdoll-hara , @this-is-lowkey-a-hyuck-fanpage , @ohwowzersthatscool , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @jenoleeaesthetic , @bananinhazz , @hyuckna25 , @doejaejung , @angeliqueiguess , @mymartiniblue , @aerivrs , @heyitsbreeeeee , @choizzn , @jae-n0 , @hyuckshinee

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

50 / 820 words / for @keegansshark who converted me to the cult of Hesh <3

...

"Anyone sitting here?"

"Uh, no. Knock yourself out."

You sit down across from Hesh. The mess hall isn’t crowded yet. You have plenty of space. "So. About yesterday."

"Remind me,” he says. “It's been a long week."

You roll an orange in your palms. "I was just wondering. Do you want to?"

"Want to what?"

You stare at him, brows raised, curving your thumbnail into the rind until it dawns on him.

"Oh. That."

You've never seen him nervous, and most people wouldn't peg him as nervous right now. You can see it, though.

"I think so. Yeah. I mean, yeah." Hesh looks down at his tray. "I want to."

You begin peeling the skin off in one long strip. "Haven't had time?"

"I haven't, no. I've... you know... been focused on other things." Hesh takes a long swallow of water. “Military stuff."

"Dad stuff."

"Yeah. Dad stuff."

"You looking to change that?"

"Eventually."

"Hm." You dig your nail into a stubborn bit of orange skin. "But not yet?"

Hesh falters. His eyes flicker down to your hands. "The issue isn’t when I want to. It’s how.”

“Ah.”

“I've never actually dated. Or had a girlfriend. I don't know where to start."

"If you want to give it a shot, I can help you out."

Hesh blinks like he's not sure you meant what you just said. "You? Help me out with women?"

You snort. "Not with women. With sex."

Hesh's brow furrows. "What?"

"You said you’re interested in sex. I'll have sex with you if you want."

For several seconds, Hesh doesn't respond. Then he asks, "Why?"

You shrug and tilt your gaze to the side, glancing at the other soldiers in the cafeteria. They don't pay your conversation much attention. "Because this is No Man's Land. If you're waiting for a golden opportunity, you'll probably die before it comes along."

"No, I mean-- why not one of the other guys in our unit?"

"Pretty sure you could get one of them to do it for you if you prefer that. Keegan once told me about this one time when he--"

"No. No, I mean," Hesh says hastily, "why me? Why are you offering me, uh... what you're offering me?"

You peer at him. He doesn't look nervous, but the tips of his ears turn a darker shade of pink. You lean back and bite an orange slice in half. "Because you've never done it."

"Right. But, I mean, that's not a reason." Hesh pauses, searching for the right words. "You can't possibly be interested in me."

"We're friends, aren't we?"

Hesh glances away again. Friends is strong language for it. "Still."

"You want to know what's in it for me," you guess.

"Yes. I do." Hesh crosses his arms, waiting for you to speak. You pop an orange slice in your mouth and chew slowly. Then you peel away another two slices and begin stripping them of their stringy pulp. "Yeah, what is in it for you?"

"I mean, I’m no golden opportunity, but I’d feel sad if you died tomorrow never having known the touch of another person or whatever. Life sucks out here. We have to take small pleasures where we can get them." You pull a piece of rind out of your teeth and flick it into the pile of orange skins. "Something like that."

"So, out of pity."

At his deadpan look, a smirk spreads across your face. "If that's what you wanna call it. I don't make this offer to everyone, if that's what you're asking. It's Merrick's job to fuck the newbies, not mine."

Hesh's eyebrows shoot up.

"I'm kidding."

“Uh huh.” He's not sure how to feel. It's almost a relief that it's not about him, personally. It's not about him at all. Just No Man's Land. "Aren't there rules about that? Fraternizing, or... or whatever."

You tilt your head at him. It's a little funny to see him flustered. He has the whole act down, usually—refined, quiet, confident strength. Almost a perfect soldier. Lab-grown for the Ghosts.

“It's fine, Hesh, really. No big deal either way. You know where my bunk is if you change your mind.” You scoop orange peel scraps off the table. “You've got a night if you want it."

"Wait," Hesh says as you rise. "It's not that, it’s…”

As you walk away, Hesh barely quashes the sudden urge to stand up, back straight, like the goddamn president is leaving the mess hall. He's not even sure what he wants to say. There’s a strange desperation in his gut to keep the conversation from ending yet.

Instead, he watches you go and his stomach flips sideways.

You dump your orange peel into the compost and head for your bunk. Merrick sits at the fringe of the cafeteria. He looks at you, then at Hesh, and his brow creases in confusion. You shake your head as if to say nah, don't ask.

...

more call of duty: ghosts / masterlist tag

[krakensdottir]

Also something really important I want to point out about Aziraphale's religious trauma.

It's often framed as him being directly abused by Heaven, generally emotionally. And while I don't doubt he's been belittled at points - probably not by Gabriel, the iconic exemplar of the Toxic Positivity boss, but we know how Michael and Uriel etc. can be - it also seems like he's received quite a lot of praise and has generally managed to pull off the appearance of being A Good Angel, or at least a satisfactory one. I don't think, and this is controversial, but I don't think Heaven was usually overtly hard on him.

Because that's not how this kind of cult mentality usually operates. Instead, it teaches you to abuse yourself. Your overseers don't have to directly hurt or insult you if you're so ingrained with fear of failure by the culture you were brought up in that you constantly question yourself as not good enough.

It's not as... satisfying, I guess? As an external abuser being the main issue. But it's a lot more real. At least to me, because I suffered so much anxiety over being 'good' when I was a kid, and it wasn't from direct abuse. It was absorbed from the culture I was surrounded by. I picked it up by osmosis from society at large, and it tormented me. I worried, I doubted, there was a time I literally feared going to Hell. And I wasn't raised strongly religious. My mother certainly treated me as a Good Kid, and never gave even the suggestion that I wasn't. But I felt that way anyway. And it tore me apart. Because internalizing that shit makes it so much harder to fight.

And to be clear at this point, I am not saying Heaven isn't abusive. I just think the nature of its abuse is more subtle and insidious than it's often given credit for. And - this is even harder to accept, but it's true, and it's important - it's not just abusive to Az. All the angels are victims of it. Yes, even Gabriel. The moment he, one of the most powerful forces in Heaven, steps out of line, we see that no one is exempt. Never even mind Muriel, who is literally on the lowest rung of the Heavenly ladder and has probably never been told they're worth anything beyond being, you know, an angel, so at least you're better than humans and demons.

It's a contrast with Crowley, who has long since accepted most (not all, there are definitely some deep issues remaining, but they're nothing like Aziraphale's) of his internal doubts and struggles. His fears are almost entirely external. He doesn't beat himself up if he fucks up. He doesn't have to. There are people happy to beat him up for him. So when things go really bad for him, his instinct is to run. To get out of the way of harm as much as possible.

The fact that Aziraphale is harder on himself than anyone else could be is a vital part of his character. He self-punishes. He self-criticizes. He feels awful every time he breaks the rules in the slightest, even though he isn't usually caught at it. Crowley can find some safety in solitude if he keeps his wits sharp and his head down. Aziraphale can't, because he carries Heaven's conditioning with him at all times. He doesn't need oversight, it doesn't take external threats to keep him in line. You don't need direct threats when literally everyone in your celestial workplace has seen firsthand the consequences of rebellion.

I don't know if I'm making sense here. Again, this is informed by personal experience and I can't claim to be unbiased. But I see so much internalization with Aziraphale. He literally can't even accept praise without being nervous as hell, and I don't think it's fear of punishment or ridicule that's his primary motivation. He simply cannot ever be good enough for himself.

That's how they get you.

Anyway, I think it's why his reaction to disaster is the opposite to Crowley's, why he feels he has to turn and face it and somehow avert the horror (or, alternatively, find some way to reconcile it in his head and accept it - because let's be real, that's often what happens) rather than get himself away. He's less afraid of failing his superiors than he is of failing himself. And God, who is, objectively, the biggest abuser in the entire story.

[weebsinstash]

Ok but fuck the people who mentioned abo stuff and omega Miguel to me specifically because I'm over here trying to think of-of- of other ideas that have some meat in them and now I'm just thinking about him becoming absolutely baby crazy in the freaky primal way only omegaverse shit can provide

-normal ass Reader meeting ABO people in the Spider Society and you have no idea what the actual hell any of them are talking about half the time but wouldn't it suck if you still felt some sort of effects from them and affected them too. But. Alpha Miguel obviously 🤌 somehow you make him purr however briefly bc he'd probably get embarrassed and be a dork but you just hear that motor kick in and it's like '👀 oh yall ain't HUMAN human? Idk that's kinda scary but... hot too'. Next thing you know you're finding out about Alphas having knots and you're having inappropriate thoughts about your boss. Also, what if scenting isn't just rubbing necks and such, what if it could be done from smaller touches too, so, suddenly you're sitting there "oh was he scenting me when he touched me on the shoulder" and you may or may not remember how people would often be nervous or avoid you on those days, or be polite but servile, one could day non-threatening, no competition

Alpha Miguel hearing you don't want kids like "I can fix them uwu". One day you realize "oh is he like, courting me" and you're confronted with the terrifying mortality of "holy shit does he want to date/have babies, idk if im ready for something that serious 😳" and also just, him having all these biological advantages over you like he eventually figures out how to tell your emotions by your scent and things like that, you hug the wrong person and suddenly he's in a foul mood and "wanting to speak to them" because their scent transferred onto you

-normal Miguel finding out about an Omega Reader and "no, I'm just studying them for science though--" *suddenly has terabytes of notes about you, your biological aspects, info from your home dimension about Omegas, plenty of personally written 'research notes'* he's just utterly obsessed and fascinated. He learns you're just basically a guaranteed baby machine amd suddenly he's astral projecting himself into another reality, man reads a factoid on how Omega typically have 3 or even more babies and he's sitting there thinking about the two of you with four daughters. Maaaaybe one son but, he loves the idea of all girls, he's just baby crazy for a daughter specifically and he's like "but wait, I could have multiple". But papi, four quinces sounds expensive lmao, lucky he's got that CEO money

-But of course, I'm growing especially fonder of female Alpha Reader and Omega Miguel and like. You're both kind of socially awkward and feel 'out of place', and being atrracted to each other is weird because you both lowkey hate yourselves and aren't sure how you two would work out. What does it mean for you to be an Alpha? Isn't he more dominant than you? Should he... act more submsisive towards you, like, you're both so confused and not sure how to act and also kind of being social recluses. One day you have your whole aha moment where you realize it's kind of a perspective thing and suddenly you cant thinking about him holding a chunky little newborn or having a tea party with his daughters and how, oh wouldn't he be so cute with a baby on his hip

Alpha Reader "I want to see him holding my babies and i wanna love n support him" vs Omega Miguel "I want to cuddle and kiss her while she carries our babies and protect her and love her 🥰" like fjfjff the nuance is THERE

-then there's the juicy idea or "alpha Miguel from a dimension without really any Omegas meeting an Omega Reader for the first time" and he's just kind of head over heels for you (and so is everyone else really). He starts realizing how powerful your "abilities" are when one day you're called into his office to see him throwing things around and shouting about "another hole in the multiverse" and Peter B is like silently begging for you to try and calm him down and you just. Panic and hug him! And you're hugging him and he can get a whiff of your scent and you hit him with the boo boo eyes "It'll be ok, please don't be so stressed 🥺 I'm sure we can figure something out. You're strong, you'll get through this"

Peter B and Jess just like exchanging knowing glances as you get him to settle into a chair and he's still grumbling and irritated but like significantly calmer now and you're just rubbing his shoulders and offering to get him a coffee and giving him a little pep talk amd being very, you know, gentle and nurturing :) totally disarms him and calms him right down, he goes from a red faced screaming mess to purring in a chair as you force idle chit chat about "are you hungry? When did you eat last? Or sleep?" And suddenly he's imagining being at the breakfast table with you and the pups he can easily see you two having together and from then on, Peter B knows to keep you nearby at all times to help calm the big bad Alpha down next time he's about to get an ulcer from stress

[paranoidginger]

Random headcanons for the TF2 mercs!!

Scout: ADHD hardcore, should probably be medicated for it, but isn't. This man cannot stand still for anything, he is always tapping his feet or fiddling with something. He definitely bites his nails, especially his thumbs. Repressed bisexual who is accidentally homophobic because he thinks he isn't supposed to like guys, and thinks everyone chooses to like the opposite gender. He's a surprisingly good artist, and he has dyslexia. That mixed with dropping out of highschool made him somewhat illiterate, spelling is hard, and so is reading any big words.

Soldier: Jack of all trades, he has had every job possible, but if he weren't in love with going to war, he'd probably settle on properly running a raccoon sanctuary. He is the reason why Medic had to invent a cure for rabies. Definitely thinks that being a lesbian just means that you like women, regardless of gender, he refers to himself as a Lesbian after learning that Pauling Identifies as one.

Pyro: Probably not even a human, uses any and all pronouns. They're really smart, despite acting childish, and are the one who built their flamethrowers. Probably collects stickers. Would definitely watch MLP and drag the other mercs into watching it with them, Pinkie Pie is definitely their favorite of the mane six. They draw a lot, and are pretty good at it whenever they want to be, they just prefer drawing silly things. Their room probably smells like burnt plastic and gasoline.

Demo: Only goes sober whenever shit gets super, super serious, like one of the other mercenaries that he cares about gets hurt. He's got a really strong caretaking instinct that gets drowned out by drunken recklessness. He's a total lover, and definitely the type of guy to kiss the homies goodnight. It takes a LOT to actually get him drunk drunk, like, I'm talking ungodly levels of alcohol that would probably kill the average person. He's Spy's drinking buddy, and probably knows the most about Spy's background from listening to his drunken ramblings about regrets and how he wishes he was a better father. Demo probably knows a lot about most of the other mercs, just because he's a good listener and a vault whenever it comes to sensitive information. He's also really fucking smart. Probably pansexual tbh, just based on vibes.

Heavy: He gets nervous whenever he has to help out any of the more 'delicate' mercenaries. He knows he's ridiculously strong, and he has excellent control of himself, but he can't help but feel like he's handling glass whenever he's helping out any of his injured teammates, especially when it comes to Scout or Spy. He's super fucking protective of all of his team though, and would absolutely crack skulls if anything happened to any of them. He is the only person other than Medic who is allowed to touch Archimedes. Probably bisexual with a preference towards men.

Engie: He's usually pretty polite, but can be one of the most brutal out of any of the classes. He's definitely autistic with a special interest in machines. He probably wants to capture one of the mvm robots just to run tests and see if they're sentient. Low-key god complex, like, moreso than medic, he's just super humble about it. He definitely talks to all of his machines. He's 100% a trans man, I can see him as being demisexual.

Sniper: Definitely autistic, he's probably got a shitload of random animal information. Total arachnophobe, but only towards small spiders. Hand him a tarantula and he's fine, but show him a stick covered in baby spiders and he's going to probably kick it as far away from himself as possible and run away. He adores lizards of all kinds, and probably used to lay on the ground watching them all the time as a kid. This man can't use a kitchen for shit, but he manages to make anything he cooks over a fire absolutely delicious, he probably refuses to share though. Probably Asexual. Has a shitty taxidermy rat in his camper that he's unnecessarily proud of, and he probably collects bones. Super into oddities and weird little knick knacks, and he still has all of his baby teeth that he keeps in a little jar on a shelf. Can't run for shit, but could walk for hours if need be. Likes doing arts and crafts, he knits in his free time, and almost always has a sewing kit with him.

Medic: Knows a little about every different medical field, he just sort of studied up on whatever piqued his interest. DOES have a PhD in medical science, he just lost his license to legally practice in a hospital or doctor's office. Gay, probably a trans man. Has definitely experimented on himself before, giving himself different deadly diseases and whatnot just to challenge himself to make a cure before he dies. Also autistic. Spoils the fuck out of his birds, and would probably Frankenstein together a human body for Archimedes if he could figure out how.

Spy: Bisexual genderfluid icon. Usually only gets caught because he's being way too much of a cocky showoff. Definitely wears eyeliner and says that it 'helps him see better' when it's bright out, even though it's 100% just a fashion statement. Has a collection of antique cigar boxes and lighters.

[suzukiblu]

i am literally for real obsessed with your timberkon pink kryptonite fic so i definitely would love to see another sneak peek, but i'm also loving all the superfam stuff you're putting out!!! something that i wish you would write because i love your works (and have since the darcy lewis stucky days) and i think you would do amazing things with the pairing is jaytim, but i know thats not everyones cup of tea

(i realize now that you were probably aiming for an ask rather than a reply so here it is in your inbox too hskdhsh)

Thank you! ❤️ And oh, asks and replies were both fine for this, no worries. I try to just specify in-post whenever I have a preference but it's not gonna bother me either way.

I DO like JayTim to read, but I've never really felt a particular bug to write it myself? At least not yet, anyway, that may one day change. Though I miiiiight still put Kon in the middle because I am who I am and all, haha.

I'm planning to update the pink K fic on AO3 tomorrow, though I'm pretty sure I've already posted enough of chapter two in excerpts on Tumblr to have posted basically all of it by now and I'm trying to avoid doing that with chapter three, sooooo instead please accept the beginning of this very niche Superfam omegaverse pack dynamics AU instead. I've been looking for an excuse to post this whole big long thing anyway, lol.

Read-more for length, 'cuz there's kind of a lot here, haha.

.

The representative from the wet nurse agency shows up fifteen minutes early with an unusual-seeming omega who can't be a day over nineteen, being generous. Bruce makes a note to look into the agency's hiring practices a little more closely. The current situation is something of an emergency, unfortunately, and he's only had time to run the intermediate-level background checks so far.

Maybe this isn't the prospective wet nurse, he halfheartedly hopes, and they're just another representative; one who's in training or just here as backup. The kid smells like milk, though, and also why the hell would the agency send out an omega representative? Omegas are typically secretaries and clerks and almost all do in-office jobs, where they're "protected" from the outside world.

The practice is stupid and demeaning and borderline abhorrent, but it's a step up from the days when an omega couldn't get any job that wasn't as a nanny or a sex worker or some fucked-up combination of the two. Clark being an actual reporter is something that was practically unheard of two lousy generations back, and even now Clark is still an unusual exception in his field. Typically, an omega writing for a newspaper would be doing gossip or advice or something domestic, not investigative journalism.

So no, there's no way that this particular omega is anything but a wet nurse candidate, unusual-seeming and concerningly young or not. And Bruce had insisted on the candidate coming to meet them in person, even when the agency had very unsubtly implied that it would be better to just have the milk delivered.

Bruce is absolutely looking into this agency's hiring practices. An omega this age should barely be presented. One who's already allegedly producing enough milk to be a viable wet nurse for what they're requesting . . .

It's concerning, yes.

"Master Bruce, the representative from the Waterton Agency and her associate," Alfred introduces politely, gesturing between Bruce and their guests. He doesn't look or smell disapproving, even in the mildest notes, but Bruce knows he is.

Of course he is, with an omega who might be being either abused or taken advantage of or outright trafficked in the manor.

Bruce should've run a better background check.

"Hello, Alpha Wayne. My name is Ellen Travers," the agency representative greets tightly as Bruce steps into the parlor. She's a harried-looking blonde beta with graying hair who looks very unhappy to be here and is doing a very bad job of hiding the nervous dissatisfaction in her scent.

She doesn't introduce the omega.

Bruce puts on his stupid "Brucie" grin and strides right up to Travers, sticking a hand out to shake. She puts on a weak attempt at a polite smile in return and takes it.

"Hello there, Beta Travers, thanks so much for coming out here on such short notice!" Bruce greets her with a lie of cheerfulness, but Travers continues to smell nervous and upset and her smile is no less forced. And the omega . . .

The kid smells downright sullen, which is not a typical scent to catch off an unfamiliar presented omega and doesn't do anything to make him seem any older.

And yes, he's definitely unusual. He's much taller than Travers–about Bruce's own height, in fact–and has a very broad build and a surprising amount of muscle on him on top of that. Bruce knows full-grown alphas who'd kill to be built like this kid. He's also much more "handsome" than "beautiful", and frankly couldn't look less like the kind of sweet and pretty little things the agency had advertised on their website if he tried, much less the soft and maternal type Bruce had been expecting to actually have show up, given the specific requests he'd made.

Well, it does make sense. Bruce obviously wasn't going to provide the agency with either a Kryptonian genetic profile or a Kryptonian pup's exact dietary needs in search of a suitable wet nurse, but the nutrient requests that they'd made would likely necessitate an omega of a similar build to Clark's to supply–hell, the kid even resembles him a bit, funnily enough. They've already had four agencies tell them that they simply didn't have an appropriate candidate on staff, and the milk samples they'd been able to provide hadn't proven very helpful.

Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, but Martha had at least had the advantage of having a pack bond with him. A packmate's milk always does miles better by a pup than a stranger's or any kind of formula ever could.

Though she'd had some very odd cravings while nursing him, she'd told them. And Clark had still grown up underfed, even with formula and yellow sunlight to supplement–the Fortress had observed marked evidence of childhood malnutrition in him, he'd said.

Occasionally Bruce wonders what a properly-nursed Kryptonian raised under a yellow sun from infancy would've actually turned out like.

The thought is . . . well. A thought.

A thought that still makes him leery of how Jon Kent might grow up, sometimes.

Those concerns aside, though, the really unusual thing about this omega isn't either his physique or his face. Bruce is perfectly used to omegas with "nontraditional" looks after knowing Clark and Diana this long, to say nothing of various other Justice League members or other superheroes and villains he's known, or of both raising and reuniting with Jason. But this omega isn't as demurely dressed as mild-mannered Clark Kent would be; he's wearing opaque sunglasses and an alpha-cut studded leather jacket and alpha-style jeans and an inconveniently inaccessible plain black T-shirt with no sign of a nursing bra underneath it, nothing soft or appealing in either his clothes or his posture. If anything, he looks aggressive; tense and guarded and ready to start some shit. Even Jason usually puts up a temporary illusion of traditional omega mannerisms when he's meeting strangers as a civilian, if only so he'll be underestimated. This kid isn't even pretending to make the attempt.

And the kid smells completely and undeniably stray, too. Bruce can't catch a single note of packscent coming off him. Not even the scent of whatever pup got him milked up enough to qualify for this job. Unbred omegas sometimes lactate in heat or when under stress or if someone in their pack either has or adopts a pup, but a stray who doesn't smell particularly distressed or anything like he's on his cycle shouldn't be producing any milk at all.

At least not without using the kind of stimulants that Bruce explicitly forbade when filling out the agency application, anyway. Those medications are necessary for some omegas, obviously, but in this situation . . .

Kryptonian pups don't respond well to getting anything like that in their milk, they've already very thoroughly learned.

The omega also has spiked stainless steel piercings in his ears, snake bites under his mouth, and two curved barbells in his left eyebrow. All his other jewelry is heavy alpha-styled rings and bracelets, and his nails are painted a chipped black. And he is, notably, not wearing any kind of collar or necklace, and his neck is completely unmarked.

Bruce is in no way oblivious to the obvious message that an uncollared and unbitten omega's neck presents when left so obviously bared. Especially on a stray one who's dressed like an alpha and standing like he's expecting a fight.

He cannot imagine why this kid is working as a wet nurse.

None of the theories that come to mind bode particularly well, though.

"This omega is our most fitting candidate for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, her smile turning increasingly forced. Bruce thinks he can safely translate that expression as that of a beta who did not in any way agree with that assessment but was stuck following orders. "She fulfills all of your nutritional requests, including the necessary iron content and the prioritized fats and proteins, and, of course, is not taking any manner of lactation-inducing stimulants or supplements."

"He," the omega corrects, sounding dubious. Travers's mouth tightens. Bruce knows a lot of old-school traditionalists who won't call a male omega "he" or a female alpha "she", no matter what said omega or alpha's preferences happen to be, and makes another note about looking into this agency more thoroughly.

Much more thoroughly.

"She isn't available for direct nursing, unfortunately, but her milk is a perfect match to your requests and she produces both excellently and reliably; her supply will be more than enough for your needs," Travers continues as if the omega hadn't spoken, and the omega's lip curls in obvious annoyance as he rolls his eyes with no attempt to hide his exasperation even in the presence of an unfamiliar alpha.

Bruce thinks of Jason with a brief pang, and pushes the thought aside. It's not the time.

Maybe he could've asked Jason for help with this, if he'd been a better father. A better alpha. A better . . .

But he wasn't, so now there's an annoyed stranger standing in his parlor instead of a content packmate curled up in their nest.

"Really?" he asks, tilting his head and blinking down at Travers with a deliberately surprised expression. "The consultant made it sound like you'd need multiple donors, for the amount we're asking."

If one goddamn barely-presented kid is actually producing enough milk to even half-feed a Kryptonian pup . . .

"This omega produces sufficient quantities for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers replies with another forced smile. She must know how ridiculous a statement that is, when she's talking about a stray kid and not a fully mature omega with at least a couple of litters under their belt who's well-established in a stable pack, but she says it with conviction all the same.

"Oh, good!" Bruce says brightly, because he's supposed to be a stupid knotheaded playboy who wouldn't know a damn thing about nursing either way. "That'll be convenient, then."

Frankly, he only wishes one omega could produce what they need right now, but requesting that much milk from one agency for just one pup would be immediately flagged as suspicious, and definitely turned down outright. They're still looking for other candidates under false names, but at the rate they're going, they're going to need to keep supplementing with formula, which already hasn't been going well.

If Clark could get milked up himself, this wouldn't be a problem, of course. A Kryptonian omega could easily produce more than enough for one Kryptonian pup, especially under a yellow sun. Clark nursed Jon without a problem for years and was actually overproducing when he was, Bruce knows very well.

Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Not since . . .

Clark would never forgive himself if something like that happened again.

Never.

And Kara and Karen are both alphas, and Jon's a beta and only ten anyway, and the only other living Kryptonians they know of are either remorseless criminals imprisoned in the Phantom Zone or the sickly little pup who's slowly wasting away upstairs.

Formula and concentrated yellow sunlight haven't been enough. Clark can't get milked up anymore. They haven't been able to synthesize any appropriate supplements either in the Fortress or in working with the Justice League or STAR Labs or even in collaborating between them.

And the pup is just getting weaker, and quieter, and sicker.

A human wet nurse probably won't even help that much, at this point, but . . .

Well, it's the best chance they have to keep the pup alive until they can synthesize something. Maybe the only chance, now.

"We strive to provide to our clients' convenience, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, and the omega rolls his eyes again. Bruce is less and less convinced of him being an adult in any way but the presentation of his pheromones.

It's rude to address an unfamiliar unpacked omega directly, especially as an alpha. Technically Travers is chaperoning them in a professional situation, though, and Bruce has increasing suspicions about this omega's personal standards so far as "manners" go anyway.

And everyone knows Brucie Wayne is stupid and shameless, of course.

So he flashes the kid a grin, and he says, "Well, it's great to meet you, we appreciate you making the trip! What's your name, Mr. . . .?"

The kid blinks at him, clearly surprised both to be spoken to and to be called "Mr." instead of "Miss" or "Ms." or even "Omega". Travers looks absolutely scandalized.

Bruce really doesn't approve of the kind of traditionalists who won't introduce an omega or use their stated pronouns, though, so fuck if he cares.

"Her name is Carly, Alpha Wayne!" Travers interjects quickly, her tone a little bit too bright to be genuine. "Short for Caroline."

"Just Carl," the kid corrects, shaking his head. Travers's mouth tightens again. It's not a very typical omega name, so no surprise.

It occurs to Bruce to wonder if Carl might be a trans alpha, which he probably should've thought to wonder as soon as he saw how he was dressed and got an impression of his personality. Obviously the kid's at least not currently on HRT if he's working as a wet nurse, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of him being transgender all the same.

Actually, affording gender-affirming care is definitely a reason that a kid like this one would be working this job, especially if said kid's family weren't supporting them. Wet nurses make more money than most other fields that omegas without a diploma can expect to get into, at least short of sex work, and Carl is very obviously too young to have graduated college yet.

Actually, Bruce still isn't even sure if he's old enough to have graduated high school yet.

He's going to burn down this whole damn agency if they're knowingly employing a minor as a wet nurse.

"Nice to meet you, Carl," he says easily. Carl's eyes narrow consideringly, and then he folds his arms and smirks, crooked and casual.

"Sure," he says. "Nice to meet you too, Wayne."

Travers looks agonized. The last non-alpha stranger who called Bruce "Wayne" instead of "Alpha Wayne" was a beta terrorist who was in the middle of kidnapping him, and he's not sure any omega who wasn't an active supervillain ever has, so he's not surprised by her reaction.

Carl is still watching him with the same cocky smirk, though, an obvious challenge in the expression and his posture both. Bruce puts another point towards the possibility of him being a trans alpha, though he's not stupid enough to actually ask if he is, especially not in front of someone the kid works under. Presentation aside, Carl might not be out, and Travers is currently at least professionally following traditional manners, so Bruce doesn't have much hope for this agency being all that progressive and doesn't want to accidentally get the kid fired.

Though if Carl is a minor, Bruce is going to have to see if he can't slip him a business card and find him another job. Especially if he's going to be burning down the agency he's working for.

"Why aren't you available for direct nursing, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks in a curious tone, because he still can't smell a pup on the kid and most wet nurses who aren't nursing their own pups do direct nursing, and he wants intel about the agency's typical practices. Carl shrugs.

"Stubborn tits," he replies, pushing his chest out as he gestures at himself with no apparent sense of shame or self-consciousness, and Travers looks increasingly agonized. Bruce is just increasingly missing Jason, himself. "Milk flows too slow and the pups always get all fussy and stress out about it. Which, whatever, pups are weird anyway, they're not really my thing."

"'Weird'?" Bruce repeats, carefully noting the lack of possessives in reference to any potentially dysphoria-triggering anatomy. Still not a confirmation, but another point. Carl shrugs again.

"I'm afraid Carly doesn't bond appropriately with pups, Alpha Wayne," Travers interjects quickly, and Carl scowls at her. "She has an unfortunate detachment disorder."

"I 'attach' fine," Carl grumbles sourly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just don't like kids."

Travers grimaces. Bruce keeps pretending to be an oblivious idiot. He has met omegas who don't like children. They exist.

They're just all deeply, deeply traumatized people. Or clinically insane.

Or both, frequently.

So . . . "detachment disorder" seems likely, yes.

Bruce doesn't consider either sex or gender to be the end-all be-all of a person, of course, but there are certain biological imperatives that no one can deny as existing, and a lactating omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–really, just about any omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–is not ever going to say they "just" don't like kids. Usually the problem with omega wet nurses is them liking kids too much, in fact, and getting distressed or depressed when the parents wean the pups and they won't be seeing them again. The decent agencies have psychological support for that in place and typically offer paid leave between long-term clients. The Waterton Agency does up to a month, which is one of the reasons Bruce chose it.

So yes, Carl is almost definitely traumatized.

Though really, a wet nurse who won't be around much isn't the worst thing, considering. Neither Clark nor Jon started developing any especially noticeable powers until they were older, but they can't assume anything based off a sample size of two, especially when said sample size is made up of biological relatives. And even if they didn't have to worry about that, well, the manor is frequently full of vigilantes and the cave is right underneath it. There's a lot that a regular guest could notice, especially over however long they might need to be nursing. Especially because nursing is a quiet, out-of-the-way activity that takes a while, and it would be very easy for someone to forget to keep their voice down or to not do a damn quadruple-backflip off a chandelier at the wrong moment.

And there's a reason Clark and Lois brought this problem to the shadows of Gotham, as opposed to staying in bright and sunny Metropolis with it. They've got something to hide right now, and a lot to figure out.

Plus if even a molecule of kryptonite gets involved in this situation, even secondhand . . .

Power Girl and Supergirl and Steel are the ones taking shifts watching Metropolis right now, and everyone is just going to leave it at that. Superman isn't coming out for anything less than the apocalypse.

"Well, the Lane-Kents will probably want you to meet the kiddo either way, if you don’t mind," Bruce tells Carl, offering an easy shrug. "Peace of mind, you know how it is."

"Not really," Carl says. Bruce debates slipping the kid a psychiatrist's business card, but he'd probably take it as an insult.

"Er, yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says awkwardly. "Actually, we were expecting Alpha Lane to be with you . . . ?"

"Lois is currently stuck in Metropolis traffic thanks to Metallo bashing up half of downtown this afternoon and Clark is upstairs getting the kiddo around. Little guy just woke up from his nap," Bruce replies with a pleasant smile, making another note of how Travers left off the omega member of the couple's last name, and also apparently doesn't expect to be meeting said omega at all. He is increasingly regretting choosing this agency, though he may yet manage to do some good in the world by subtly dismantling it. Or maybe just by buying it outright and doing a little restructuring.

Or a lot of restructuring.

"Wait, it's not your kid?" Carl asks, wrinkling his nose with a puzzled expression. Travers looks pained. The Waterton Agency isn't Gotham-based, so Bruce isn't sure why she apparently expects Carl to be up on the Wayne pack's current members, especially considering how she keeps talking over and outright ignoring him. Bruce has a hard time picturing her bothering to provide the information herself, at this point.

"Oh, no, just doing a favor for some visiting friends," he replies smoothly, still wearing the same pleasant smile. Which is a lie, of course, because actually the Lane-Kents are part of his secondary pack and "visiting friends" therefore in no way covers what they are to him. The Wayne pack is both his primary and his family pack, obviously, and the Justice League is a loosely-connected tertiary pack, but his secondary pack lacks both an official name and public recognition, because explaining to the public why Brucie Wayne's secondary pack is two award-winning reporters from Metropolis, a random museum curator in Gateway City, a decorated Navy SEAL, and occasionally a cat burglar with commitment issues is just not going to work out for anyone's secret identities.

And that even without counting how everyone knows about Lois Lane and Steve Trevor's respective very public connections to Superman and Wonder Woman, much less ever explaining anything about Selina. Bruce, meanwhile, still isn't sure how he ended up in a pack with any of these people. Clark and Diana definitely have a lot to answer for either way, though.

Mostly he blames Clark. Diana has more decorum. Clark is just . . . Clark, so now Bruce gets a scarf and cookies from Martha Kent every Christmas, never mind that he's technically Jewish, because God forbid he ever tells her that and she starts sending him Hanukkah presents instead. He cannot handle eight nights' worth of Martha Kent's colorfully-wrapped scarves and lovingly-packaged cookies. That's just not a thing he can do.

He doesn't even celebrate holidays, except when Dick cons him into it. Which admittedly he's been doing more often again the past few years, but–

This is off-topic, Bruce reminds himself, but then gets distracted as Carl cocks his head a little and frowns over something. Bruce instinctively wants to brace himself for trouble at the sight, because that frown actually very strongly reminds him of Clark's "what the hell weird and concerning thing did I just notice with my super-senses" frown, but A) Carl doesn't have super-senses and B) Bruce just heard the stairs creak, which means the actual Clark is finally on his way down to meet them. No one else in the manor would ever make the steps creak any way but deliberately except for Lois or Jon, and Jon is out on a walk with Damian and Titus while Lois is, again, currently stuck in Metropolis traffic. So: Clark, definitely.

Also Clark tends to make the stairs creak a lot louder than either Lois or Jon do, given the very notable size difference there.

"Has Alpha Lane authorized you to make decisions for his pup's care, Alpha Wayne?" Travers asks with another forced smile. Bruce is resolving to check specifically her background too, at this point.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, good ol' Clark's right here," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's his pup too, and he knows much more about ones this age than I do anyway."

"Yes, well, omegas tend to get a little . . . irrational about the idea of sharing their pups with a wet nurse," Travers says "politely", like she thinks she's stating a fact. Bruce would say something cheerful-sounding and subtly insulting back, typically, but Carl's frown is deepening and he looks a little bit . . . odd, maybe, or . . .

There's a strange little pup-call from the stairs, very quiet and echoing in unusual registers but still recognizably one all the same, and just as recognizably resigned-sounding. It's a pup-call that clearly expects to go unanswered, at this point, which is something that Bruce would like to never hear again in his life, given the option.

Though it's better than a pup who's given up on calling at all, he supposes.

He tries not to grimace at that thought, though he's sure Clark's grimacing enough for the both of them right now after hearing a call like that. The pup is starving, and they just can't feed him properly. At this point sending him back where he came from might be kinder.

Honestly, if Bruce didn't know exactly who his parents were, he might've already insisted on that.

It's just–

The pup calls again, even quieter. Travers looks perplexed.

"Er," she says. "I apologize, Alpha Wayne, but is the pup ill? We can't be around them if they are, it's against agency policy."

"Oh, the kiddo just sounds like that," Bruce replies dismissively, and then lies, "Vocal chord deformity, apparently. We're not sure what caused it, pediatrician thinks it's something genetic."

Well, it is genetic. Jon calls in exactly the same registers, and according to Martha and Jonathan so did Clark.

So it's genetic, yes. Just not a deformity.

Carl's expression looks–odd, still. Bruce isn't sure what to think of it, but it makes him a bit wary. A detachment disorder doesn't imply an actual negative reaction to the presence of a pup, obviously, but . . .

Clark steps into the parlor with Lor-Zod sitting on his hip, the pup no older than two or so and looking small and listless in his arms, his dark skin all washed out and his previously bright eyes gone dull and tired. When he first crash-landed in Metropolis in the rocket he'd been wrapped up inside, Clark said he'd popped out of it energetic and excited and clamoring for attention in toddler-level Kryptonian, but he's been slowly fading ever since, wasting away without the nutrients that they just can't provide him. He's probably only made it this long thanks to the sun.

Again, Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, though he was already at least three by the time they got him, which probably helped. A pup Lor's age is capable of eating solid food, obviously, but milk or formula is still a major part of a pup's diet until they're four or five, if not older, and the longer the better. Hell, most kids still at least semi-regularly nurse for as long as their dam can manage to stay milked up, or even until they present themselves. No one can wean a damn toddler and expect them to thrive.

Or even survive, in Lor's case.

Lor opens his mouth in another weak, resigned little pup-call, and Clark's own mouth tightens as he restrains himself from answering it and giving the pup false hope for milk he just doesn't have, and Bruce steels himself to–

Carl croons.

Travers startles. Bruce is . . . surprised, a bit. A detachment disorder doesn't really imply the kind of omega who'd croon at a pup they've never seen before in their life, after all.

It's an unusual and unpracticed croon, as if it's a sound Carl doesn't make very often, which Bruce supposes would make sense. Lor responds to it immediately, though, shifting weakly in Clark's arms and pup-calling again.

Carl, with absolutely no manners or decorum whatsoever, sweeps right past Travers and Bruce and Alfred and just plucks Lor straight out of Clark's arms. Which–forget the kid calling him "Wayne"; that's a damn etiquette breach. Hell, Clark probably only didn't take Carl's head off for snatching up his pup without permission because he's so clearly dumbfounded that he actually did it.

Bruce is slightly less dumbfounded due to having spent five seconds in the kid's presence, but still, what is he–

"Carly!" Travers chokes in horror. Carl very obviously doesn't even hear her and just starts purring at Lor and cuddling him close in a way that really doesn't even slightly imply "detachment disorder".

And then Bruce figures out what was "odd" about Carl's expression, before.

"Huh," he says, a little bemused. "Did he just go into feral drop?"

"Alpha Wayne, I assure you, this is not the Waterton Agency's standard of behavior!" Travers sputters, sounding even more horrified, and Clark just blinks and tilts his head.

"I think he did, yeah," he says, looking perplexed. Carl continues ignoring everyone in the room except for Lor and just purrs louder at him as they both nuzzle into each other. Lor makes more very distinctly Kryptonian pup-calls at him, and Carl croons back with no apparent concern over their strangeness, sounding absolutely goddamn enamored.

That is definitely not a detachment disorder, Bruce thinks. There is no possible way that an omega with a detachment disorder just went into full feral drop over a pup at first sight.

Or possibly first sound, he's realizing.

Bruce is perfectly aware that omegas can feral-bond with distressed pups whether they mean to or not, but he's never seen it happen this fast outside of a warzone or a natural disaster. He's heard hearsay and read studies about particularly compatible sets that have done it under less stressful circumstances, but distressed and starving pup or not, he wouldn't have even expected a human omega to be capable of bonding with a Kryptonian pup like that.

Or at all, frankly. Deliberately created and carefully cultivated pack bonds are one thing, but . . .

Lor chirps, the sound still a little quiet and fragile, a little weak, but also undeniably hopeful, and Carl gives him a low, rumbly purr in reply and yanks up his inconveniently-cut T-shirt to expose his chest with no trace of hesitation or modesty. He's already leaking sweetly-scented milk, already adjusting his grip on Lor to let the pup get at his chest as easily and comfortably as possible, and Lor latches without a moment's hesitation and immediately starts to nurse.

And then Lor purrs. Carl just watches him with undeniable adoration, still paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else in the room.

Alright, then, Bruce thinks carefully.

Well, that just happened.

"Thought you didn't like kids, Carl?" he inquires casually, putting on an easy grin, and Carl finally seems to come up enough to remember that the rest of them exist, though he still doesn't actually take his eyes off Lor.

"I would literally become a supervillain if this kid asked me to," he replies dreamily, keeping Lor cradled in one arm and tracing a finger down the pup's cheek with a soft, besotted expression that's unmistakable for what it is even with the sunglasses on. He looks like he might just burn down the world if someone tried to take Lor away from him right now, and his pheromones are so all-encompassing and so cloyingly sweet that Bruce genuinely might need to see a dentist after this.

"Well usually I'd say we keep Batman in the loop on that kind of thing around here, but if the kiddo asks, it only seems fair," he jokes with a laugh.

"I would drop-kick Batman off a roof for you," Carl informs Lor lovingly as he strokes his cheek again and then skims a fingertip along the little barely-visible scar splitting his eyebrow. Lor keeps purring sweetly and Alfred coughs to conceal a low chuckle. Clark looks a little pained to be watching one of his pups nurse from another omega so easily and eagerly, but his mouth quirks in amusement at the comment anyway. Bruce doesn't dignify any of them with a response, because he is an alpha with dignity and also is in no way threatened by a passing comment from a barely-presented kid who clearly isn't even combat-trained.

. . . although he also isn't going to be stupid enough to try coaxing Lor away from the omega he just feral-bonded with just yet either.

Then Tim walks by the doorway, takes one look at Carl with Lor, and trips over literally nothing and into a full faceplant on the foyer floor. Bruce pauses, then raises an eyebrow.

"Alright down there, Timmy?" he asks. Tim scrambles back to his feet, looking more genuinely mortified than he's ever seen him.

"Fine!" he blurts. "Fine. Everything's fine. All the things are fine. Uh. What? Who?"

"This is Carl," Bruce says, gesturing to the kid. "Wet nurse from the Waterton Agency. And his escort, Beta Travers. Carl, Beta Travers, this is my son, Tim Drake-Wayne. And also Clark Lane-Kent and his pup, Chris Lane-Kent, who I'm assuming you've figured out are your prospective clients."

"Yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says with a grimace. "We gathered."

"Ngh," Tim says, looking at literally everything but Carl and Lor. His face is bright red, which is an unusual amount of embarrassment for him to be showing just over tripping. Typically he masks that kind of thing a lot more effectively. Bruce would almost think he was actually embarrassed by watching Carl feed Lor, but Tim's literally never been affected by anything but passing curiosity when seeing a pup nurse before, so that seems unlikely. And he's a male beta, if still an unpresented one, so it's not like he's got any reason to care all that much about it anyway.

So his reaction does seem a little odd, yes.

Hm.

"Chris," Carl coos adoringly down at Lor. Bruce is in no way stupid enough to think that he absorbed any of the rest of that introduction or has even noticed Tim's presence at all. He wouldn't even put money on him having noticed Clark's presence, in fact, except as a pup-delivery system. The kid is very clearly in love with the pup in his arms and doesn't give a damn about any of the rest of them at all.

Detachment disorder. Sure.

[bardicious]

Thoughts before I go into rewatching s3 of Supernatural:

I maintain my original thought that Supernatural was generally at it's best conceptually in s1 and s2. The whole demon/angel arcs are a bit much even though Im sure I'll generally like the seasons going forward.

What I remember, from watching this show as a kid, I was generally annoying with Ruby's whole character? And I don't think I'm going to much like her this time around either. I remembered her introduction in the first episode of s3, that's a core memory, lmao. So is that one guy dying by bleach consumption (I have not looked at those the same way since I watched this ep as a kid)

In general, Ruby's existence is probably gonna annoy me. I kinda just loath manipulative and sleazy characters, not all of them, but some really just rub me the wrong way and I'm getting that vibe from my memory of her. Kinda like Shaw from Chuck (the tv series), fucking hated that guy even when he was supposedly on the good side.

I wonder how this season will go into "oh no is sammy gonna turn evil???" Will Sam actually have actions that back up this line of questioning? Or is it more gaslighting an innocent traumatized man? Like, is Sam's "evilness" really just going to be what everyone thinks he should be or is it just Sam getting rightfully angry sometimes?

I wonder if this will be the case of hypocrisy? When Dean gets angry and murderous, he's allowed to be so, because he's Dean and angels watch over him? But Sam has to be a saint, and if he shows even a little bit of anger, then something is wrong with him? Despite Dean constantly laying on the fact that he wont be alive to be with Sam for very long (and let me tell you that fucks you up), so Sam is trying to be more like Dean because being like Dean is the right way from his perspective.

Mind you, I like that Dean actually sees the opposite of what everyone else sees in Sam. Sam is his guide and moral compass. If Sam wasn't there, Dean would be lost, possibly murdering innocent people (by accident no doubt and then maybe not so much). So far, character wise everything makes sense (yes, can you tell I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop? lmao).

I honestly love both the brothers, they're dysfunctional as hell, so far mostly coming from Dean's end, but the codependency is totally a two way street. This is exactly why I loved the show as a kid, and why learning about the other seasons makes me nervous... but Ill get there when I get there.

[pablitogavii]

Doctora Pt. 2

Since many reached out to say they want a mini series, here it comes!

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Part 1 is HERE! <3

Pablo's POV

I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss and how her chapstick tasted like fresh strawberries on my tongue...fuck! I really wanted to kiss her again!

"¿Hola? Mundo a Pablo! You can pick your results after training" Xavi said and all I could think about was seeing her again not really knowing how to say that I want her to be mine.

"Gracias" I said and he smiled nodding approvingly as other guys joined us on the pitch.

"I can't believe we haven't heard you screaming from the changing rooms while getting your blood drawn" Pedri mocked me and I rolled my eyes still thinking about strategy for when I see her again. Should I play dumb and see what she does? But don't girls like confidence? Ugh! Es tan complicado!

"Ai! Ansu? Can I ask you something??" after training I seek some advice from one of my best friends still not deciding how I should act when I see her again. I haven't told him who I was talking about knowing that everyone on camp knows her but I presented him with a hypothetical scenario.

"Hermano, girls like to feel like they belong to a man who will pursue them tirelessly..so be possessive" were Ansu's exact words and I repeated them while walking towards the clinic.

When I came in and saw he laughing with one of the younger players while getting his blood drawn..I felt..jealous? Was she distracting him the same way she did with me!? Fuck! She can't do that with anybody else!

I came in with all my confidence on display as she turned around to safe me with that beautiful smile on her face. How can someone look so sexy in scrubs!? Focus cabrón!

"Hola nena" I said winking at her which certainly made the younger player angry but I didn't give a shit! He should know she is off limits and he has no chance against me!

"I will be right with you, let me just finish here first" she said which made the younger boy smirk this time and my jaw clenched as I sat down to wait for her to give me attention that I wanted right the fuck now!

Your POV

Pablo was angry, that much was clear from his demeanor when I came to give him his results. I was so nervous to look at him after the kiss we shared which I have to admit kept me craving for more.

He stood up after taking the paper walking towards the door and just when I expected him to leave without a word (probably forgetting about the kiss anyways), he locked the door walking back towards me.

He placed his paper on the table before going around to stand in fornt of me making me walk backwards until my back was glued to the wall and he was hovering over me dominantly.

"Um..what..are you doing Gavi?" I said with a shaken up voice which surely amused him as his smirk grew while his fingers raised up my chin like last time.

I closed my eyes expecting him to kiss me again (excited about it ofc!!) but just as our lips were inches from each other he spoke lowly.

"Did you miss me doctora??" he said and I opened my eyes blushing like crazy when I realized how close our faces were to each other.

"And..why..why would I miss you Gavi?" I said trying my best to be confident but his power was undeniable..he was making me nervous on purpose!

"Well..maybe because watching me in a sweaty uniform does things to you? Or maybe because you let me have a taste of those sweet lips of yours doctora?" Pablo was enjoying himself and I was a blushing mess staring from his eyes to his lips wondering if he craved to kiss me just as much as I craved to taste him again?

"Tell me something, preciosa..do you use the same distraction on other players too? Maybe ones from La Masia?" he said and I knew now why he was so angry before. Pablo Gavi was jealous! He was jealous after seeing me with that kid from La Masia. Now was my turn to make him nervous!

"So what if I do? I'm a free woman after all..." I smirked shocked when his hand wrapped around my throat and his lips came so close to mine that they touched as he spoke.

"Wanna try that again nena? You can only distract me like that!" he growled now completely ruining my panties while staring at my lips before kissing me again but this time with more force..like his life depended on it..and I loved every second of it!

We kept kissing one another for a few minutes like it was the most natural thing in the world before I realized that I needed to pull away and make him deserve me first!

"I should go back to work Gavi.." I said knowing that if he stayed here any longer..all hell would break loose probably ending in his suspension and me getting fired!

"Tu me vuelves loco nena.." he said resting his forehead again mine and I felt my heart speeding up as he leaned down and kissed me one last time before pulling away.

"I'm gonna need this. See you soon doctora" Pablo grabbed one of your visit cards with your phone number before leaving and making you finally breathe heavily trying to wrap your mind about what just happened.

Pablo's POV

As more days passed, and we spend nights face timing each other I got so hooked that seeing her face became a mandatory part of my day. We also agreed to be 'friends' whatever the hell that meant but I was letting it go slow for now not knowing how long I'll be able to resist kissing her again!

Also, my results showed that I will need to do some physical therapy but overall everything seems to be alright. I never felt happier to be told I will have to spend so much time at the clinic.

"So you know how you said last night that you couldn't wait for the new season to come out??" I said while she was applying some cold jelly on my thigh before my physical therapy. She looked so beautiful when she was focusing on a task like this!

"Mhm?" he said and I did my best not to get hard from feeling her hand on my inner thigh but it was getting quite hard to be honest. But these little sessions definitely made me crave her touch so damn much!

"I know a guy who sent it to me before it gets released. What do you say we watch it together tonight at my apartment?" I said seeing her eyes open wide as she comprehended the words leaving my mouth.

"No freaking way! The next season is coming out in almost two weeks!" she said and I smirked nodding my head knowing that I made an impossible bargain that she won't be able to refuse. Or I hoped she wouldn't refuse.

"I'm Pablo Gavi" I said proudly and she rolled her eyes making me groan in annoyance. She was definitely different..

"But if I do this..promise not to take me to your bed Gavi??" she said and I smirked making her chuckle before doing a pinky promise before she finally agreed. I was so excited but I acted cool while she was there.

I was manically cleaning my apartment when I returned from trianing waiting impatiently for her to call and tell me she is in front of the gates. Time never passed slower!

"Come in doctora!" I said escorting her inside as she took off her jacket making my mind go crazy at the sight of her in grey sweats and a tank top..this was the first time I saw her wearing no scrubs.

"What!? I didn't know there was a dress code. I kinda look homeless " she said making me laugh as we both walked to the living room.

"You look perfect.." words just slipped past my lips before I could stop them and she smiled sitting on the couch comfortably.

Your POV

I couldn't believe I was currently sitting next to Pablo Gavi in his apartment watching one of my favorite TV shows. Despite not showing it to him, I knew what a 'lady man' the boy was and was definitely a little star struck that he was pursuing me.

He kept his apartment pretty cold so my arms quickly filled with goosebumps which he noticed jogging to his room in the middle of an episode. He came back with his big Barca hoodie and my heart stared speeding up immediately.

"Gracias Pablo.." I used his name for the first time and it felt right especially seeing how he smiled when he heard it. I wore his hoodie which he definitely recently wore since it smelled so strong of his cologne as we continued to binge the episodes.

"I should probably head home..it's almost midnight!" I said completely loosing track of time not to mention that I was so sleepy that I had to lay my head on Pablo's shoulder to keep watching the end of the episode.

"But there are two more episodes..don't you wanna know how it ends??" he quickly replied and I really did want to see the ending but also not sure how I am going to drive back home at three in the morning.

"Are you sure??" I asked and he nodded smiling wide in reassurance.

"Tomorrow is day off so I can sleep in. No worries!" he said and I nodded as another episode began.

I didn't even notice when I fell asleep only waking up when he raised me up from the couch carrying me upstairs bridal style.

"Um..what's happening?" I said followed by a loud yawn that made me blush as he chuckled entering his bedroom..it was huge, with a king sized bed and his jersey on the wall.

"I'm taking you to my bed" he said and you felt your heart speeding up while your eyes were staring into his deeply.

"You promised.." I reminded him and he smiled kissing my forehead before laying me down in comfortable sheets that smelled like Pablo...I felt safe.

"I'm not letting you drive sleepy but don't worry, I will sleep on the floor if you need anything" he said tucking me in and I blushed smiling wide at his kind gesture.

It was the middle of the night when I woke up from how cold I was since Pablo took off my hoodie thinking I will be too warm under the blankets. Boy kept his room so cold, I felt like I was in Canada!

I stole glance at him sleeping on the floor fearfully getting up and laying down next to him getting insanely close immediately feeling warmer.

"Mm what a nice surprise doctora..." Pablo mumbled being cocky even when he just woke up and I rolled my eyes nuzzling my cold nose further into his neck.

"I'm cold!" I whine and he smirks wrapping his arms around my body before pulling me on top of him and rubbing my skin as I felt much warmer and started to again drift to sleep.

Hope you like it :)

[cleolinda]

I think, partly, writing about songs I like is therapeutic, maybe even a kind of exposure therapy, because I always feel very nervous when I do it. I wasn't, like, beat up as a kid or anything, I wasn't severely bullied, but it's like kids can smell the neurodivergence on you. They just know somehow that you're terminally sincere and earnest and easily hurt, you cry too easily, and they zero in on that. They sense that your feelings are the easiest to hurt, if they want to mock someone without really feeling like a bully. (I know this sounds nonsensical, but I've heard other ND people talk about experiencing this.) I didn't even know I was autistic, so I had no idea why people were seemingly compelled to be shitty to me. I just wanted to be nice to people and have friends, isn't that what everyone wants? What made me different?

Specifically relevant here: anything I liked was stupid because I liked it. Any movie, any band, any TV show: "That's so dumb." "I can't believe you like that." "Ugh." (There's a story about a cursed sticker I'll have to go into later.) Years and years of this, and I still don't really understand why. (The fact that I'm earnestly sitting here saying "I just wanted to be nice, I don't understand" is probably exactly why.)

So it must sound really weird that I would have a complex like this--being afraid to tell people that I like something--when you know me, if you know me, from recaps I wrote about books and movies and TV shows. But humor and a quasi-academic tone are ways of distancing yourself. "Her writing is really balanced about the parts that are good and the parts that are... not." Yeah, because pure enthusiasm is difficult for me unless I know I'm surrounded by people who feel the same.

But if I can't be enthusiastic about something on Tumblr, where the fuck can I?

So this is a ridiculously vulnerable thing to post on a fine sunny Friday, but if the internet has taught me anything, it's that there are no unique experiences. If I post about something I like, someone somewhere is going to say that they like it too, and someone is going to know what it was like to feel vaguely wrong and small about everything and not understand why.

[bonefall]

What was Leopardstar and Carpwhisker’s relationship like?

You know how in Fire Emblem Awakening how there's that side character whose entire existence is dedicated to a running joke that he's the biggest person in the room... but no one sees him, ever? To the point where they even end up thinking an extra goblet at dinner must belong to a ghost?

Face obscured by Chrom's knee on the box art, Mike Wazowski magazine style?

Carpwhisker.

I'm GUTTING Leopardstar's Haggis. It is in the bottom 5 WC entries for me. Leopardstar's childhood bullying was cheap and brainless. How fucking dare they, actually?

How dare they take their ONE confident, intimidating female character, DEFINED by how she was beloved in RiverClan and by her apprentice generation, had no romance, and wasn't a mother figure, and fuck up ALL THREE THINGS???

So. Anyway.

If anyone gets bullied it's Carpwhisker, still by Skyheart.

Brightsky didn't die; she became a kittypet. There were four kits.

Carp, Oat, Leopard, Water.

Mudfur took Carp and Leopard home, due to their resemblance to their famous ancestor, Volestar.

If Mudfur knew what Leopardstar would become... he would have left her there, with her mother. He regrets bringing her back to RiverClan

He feels he should have known better. He became a Cleric shortly after returning because he came to believe that the constant fighting was wrong, and yet...

What did he expect?

Carpwhisker is a nervous wreck who can't stand up for herself despite being as big as a badger, and Leopardstar eventually booked herself a rock appointment

I feel like at some point, Carpwhisker learned the secret about Brightsky... but keeps it to herself.

She can't imagine Leopardstar taking it well, "and um, she's..." (Carpwhisker grasps for words not wanting to outright say she's terrified of her) "...she's a wee bit intense about bad news."

You know that one post about the kid who got severely bullied in school, the teacher put on Dumbo, and they watched every single one of their bullies cheer for the underdog? All the bullies think they're Dumbo.

That's poor Carp. I feel like she used to really like Aftergatherings until Leopardstar told her about the reputation of those events, and that attending them was making Carp look disloyal.

People often take credit for her achievements. She was the one who made the Bonehill practical-- it's not solid bone, it's a mud facade with a layer of bone around it. Tigerstar said it was TigerClan's achievement, and his by proxy.

When Carpwhisker was struggling for breath to correct him, Leopardstar gave her a sideways glance and killed the thought.

So, Carp's relationship with Leopardstar is not great. But Carp defends her, and loves her, and insist she knows best.

Leopardstar is a better friend of Skyheart than she is a sister of Carp. Leopard's beloved by that whole group, and a natural leader from a young age.

I think when Leopardstar dies, Carp is distraught by it. Inconsolable, and it's really hard to tell her in that moment that it sounds like she's a lot better off without her.

She'd probably end up hanging out with Mothwing a lot, seeking spiritual advice. Moth just gives her normal, mortal, nonspiritual advice, but Carpwhisker thinks it's divine.

After all... they both did just lose very toxic siblings that they still loved very much, and are kinda working through that.

In terms of politics, Carpwhisker is a weak-traditionalist. Really, she just goes along with what's popular at the moment, and doesn't make waves. She's conflict-avoidant, and just tries to make others happy with her hard work.

Most of all she just wants peace, really. What if there were no problems forever and everyone was just nice and well-fed and we all took a big nap in this warm den I made. What then.

SO all that to say... She loved Leopardstar. Leopardstar was awful to her. "We're sisters! It's just like that!" (It Is Not Like That.) She was hidden in her shadow. She thought the shadow was normal. She's destroyed when her sister dies. She can only begin to recover once she's gone.

[amostimprobabledream]

Thoughts on Season 4 so far...

I know, I know, I should probably wait til it's finished, but I finally caught up with everyone else after being weirdly nervous about it.

Just what the hell was going on with the first couple of episodes? Like, episode one felt like it was written by someone with only a passing knowledge of the show. The dialogue felt clunky and it all seemed so rushed. It was a really boring episode. The second one was a bit dull too.

I felt so bad for Hughie when he heard his dad was in hospital and getting choked up over not talking to him and wishing he'd wake up so they could talk about the book his dad was excited about.

Fuck Hughie's mother! (If it really is her...) What a bitch. "Uwu, don't yell at me, son I abandoned for 20 years!"

I'm glad Kimiko seems to have been given more of her own story this season. Karen Fukuhara does such a good job with a character who doesn't talk.

On the flipside, I could not give a flying fuck about Frenchie and some guy he likes. I never care when the show tries to introduce non-Supe love interests. It's like Maeve and her dull girlfriend all over again, except I actually like Frenchie.

Wooow, Butcher has been so neutered this season. It's a real fall from his unchallenged rule In S1 & 2, but I can't say he doesn't deserve it after how horribly he treated his team.

Fuck off, Becca, fuck off Becca, Fuck OFF, Becca. God. Every time I see her I have to press the skip button. (Also it's really funny how she's inexplicably more blonde in Billy's hallucinations. What, did she get highlights in the afterlife?)

I don't care if he's a kid, I'm gonna say it: Ryan is SO boring to watch. He's saved by being important to Homelander and Butcher but god, every scene he's in I'm desperate for it to be over.

Has anybody noticed Homelander was talking to Ryan the exact same way Soldier Boy spoke to him when he called him "ungrateful?" He really is his father's son.

I didn't know what to make of Sage. The fandom was hyping her up to all hell so I was prepared to not be very impressed by her because of how much people were raving about her before she'd even done anything. I'm still confused about what exactly her motives are but her scenes with The Deep are pretty funny. I wonder why she told him about the lobotomy? Because she thinks he's too stupid for it to backfire on her? Hmm.

I know Firecracker is awful but she's so pretty and I love listening to her accent. I can't wait for her and Homelander to interact more.

I...am not loving Starlight's subplot? I get what they're going for, they want her to be this activist who's like a figurehead of La Resistance against Vought, but watching her campaigning and complaining about how she's not Starlight, she's Annie, is not fun to watch. I'm also not a fan of her hair or outfits this season, I think the shorter look suited her face more. (Also, the whole abortion thing came a bit out of nowhere. I feel like that might have been something that deserved a bit more exploration for Starlight, Hughie and their relationship?)

THAT BEING SAID - I do like her dynamic with Firecracker, because I think the writers wrote themselves into a corner with her in Season 3 because she's Starlight! She always has to be morally correct and good in every scenario! I'm glad they're making it clear she isn't this perfect angel - even the scene where Firecracker confronts her, Starlight kind of ducks responsibility by saying she's changed and "my mom taught me to be ruthless". Those aren't really apologies and Starlight only apologising because Firecracker is a threat to her reputation is really interesting - and not dissimilar to the scientists only asking for forgiveness when their monster came back to kill them.

Victoria's relationship with Zoe is confusing. I forgot Zoe existed, actually. I'm not even clear if Zoe is her bio kid or adopted one, because if the former, who's Zoe's dad?

A-Train's redemption wasn't something I was looking forward to, but it's being handled fairly decently, way better than how Maeve did like, one good deed per season and got handed hers on a silver platter. I'm still a bit upset that he's basically been absolved of Robyn's death though.

Homelander. Oh my GOD. He's so unhinged this season and we haven't even gotten to the big finale yet. His facial twitches, the little micro-expressions, his pissy little "ShutthefuckUP!" at The Deep, wow. Antony Starr continues to carry the show on his shoulders.

THE LAB SCEEEENE. Jesus. That was like something out of a horror-thriller, yet I was cheering for him the whole time. Antony Starr deserves ALL the Emmys.

[wolfawaycamp]

Alternate Truth or Dare "Truth" scene, because Emma's question in-game was super boring. She could've come up with something shippy for that, surely.

🐼 I had a million different ideas for this and maybe I'll write them out someday, but for the sake of brevity, here is (1) slightly shippier version of Emma Mountebank's infamously boring 'truth' question! Thanks for the ask :)

The warm smoke of the campfire mixed with the earthy scent wafting off of Lake Septimus’ surface makes for a nice, comfortable atmosphere for the Hacketteers’ last hurrah around the firepit.

Ryan can appreciate the sentimentality of it, as he had built up a nice camaraderie with these (mostly) strangers, but of course Dylan had to be Dylan and throw a Truth-or-Dare-shaped wrench into things. Ryan’s already nervous enough, what with Chris freaking out and demanding they stay in the lodge with all of the escapes locked as if there’s some wild animal on the loose.

To Ryan, the only thing worse than being attacked by a savage bear or feral hog is exactly what Emma is doing to him right now: putting him on the spot. “Ryan — truth or dare?”

He weighs his options.

Truth — knowing Emma, she's probably going to ask something nosy like "What were you and Chris talking about in his office?" which is annoying but ultimately uninteresting. Easy, painless, and forgettable.

Dare — she's going to make him kiss someone. Sure, he could be a killjoy and say no, but he's already on thin ice with this crowd and he's not so much of an asshole that he's going to ruin everyone's fun by refusing a dare. Besides, he knows it's either going to be Dylan or Kaitlyn. He can handle that. They're both attractive, and they both clearly have a crush on him. But what if she makes you choose? nags a voice in the back of his mind, and that gives him pause. Because — because if he's forced to make a choice, people are going to make assumptions and tease him and Dylan — or Kaitlyn — mercilessly about it for the rest of the night. Truly a fate worse than death.

He goes with the safe option. "Truth. I'm an open book."

"Okay, okay. Let's get right down to it." Emma narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"Let's do." Ryan makes his best attempt to match her energy. He’s sure he looks as terrified as a first-time camper during opening week.

"What were you and Dylan doing when you two snuck away from Mandatory Movie Night last month?"

Fuck. That wasn’t part of the script.

"You left the lodge after Mr. H told you not to? What a little rebel!" Abi blurts out in mock surprise.

Ryan rolls his eyes. "No, we...we went upstairs. Wanted to get away from the kids. Nothing really happened. We just talked."

Somehow, he’s forgotten that the other person in question is sitting six feet away from him, ready to call him out on his bullshit. "C'mon, tell them the rest of it,” Dylan encourages, taking another sip of his beer.

Betrayal. Ryan really was an idiot to think he’d get out of this one so easily. "Whose side are you on, man?"

"Well, obviously, as the one who's laying down the law here, I'm on the side of the truth!" Dylan responds matter-of-factly.

Emma, who’d been watching the exchange and quietly enjoying the drama, leans in. "What are you hiding from us, you mysterious bad boy?”

I’m really not beating the ‘brooding loner’ allegations, am I? "First off, never say that again." Everyone is staring at him in anticipation, except Dylan, who’s looking away and visibly trying (and failing) to maintain his poker face while reveling in Ryan’s discomfort.

Ryan sighs. "We also…might have found some vodka and drank it. But we were just drinking and chilling like we are right now. Nothing to write home about."

“Vodka and chill, huh?” Jacob waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“No,” Ryan responds, trying to sound as unbothered as possible. Unless you count Dylan acting serious for more than ten seconds as ‘chill.’ 

In all honesty, they didn’t do anything crazy. They'd started that night sharing childhood camp stories, and it had eventually turned into deep discussions about their fears, their dreams, and their plans for the future after camp, but the other counselors don’t need to know every detail. Ryan had seen Dylan in a different light since that night and they’d grown closer from it. That moment is special, and Ryan intends to keep at least some things between himself and Dylan.

Nick takes a break from basking in the warmth of the campfire to speak up. "Ugh. Boring!”

"On the contrary. My curiosity's been satisfied." Emma is staring at Ryan with an unnerving grin plastered onto her face. In the firelight, she almost looks like a demon. “Thank you for sharing.”

Jacob isn't having it. "No way. That can't really be it. Dylan?"

Ryan shoots Dylan a look that hopefully screams “save me.” Dylan obliges. "No, no, I'd say he's off the hook. That’s all she wrote. Scout's honor." He holds up his hand and crosses his fingers.

"Doesn't that mean you're lying?" Jacob presses.

Kaitlyn responds to Jacob’s comment with derision, "No, dumbass, that's only if he does it behind his back where we can't see it. Duh." Ryan stays silent, letting the two bicker amongst themselves. At least they’re not all still staring at him with those creepy fucking smiles.

"Children! Settle down!" Right on cue, Emma turns everyone’s attention back to their favorite social punching bag. Well, second favorite to Jacob. "Your turn, Ryan." She’s still grinning. She genuinely looks pleased. It wasn’t just some juicy gossip she wanted from Ryan; her goal was to make him uncomfortable, and he played right into her trap perfectly.

Scanning the rest of the group, he sure does feel the discomfort; half of the counselors are giving him and Dylan knowing glances, while the other half look deeply disappointed with his answer. Well, too bad. He’ll let them speculate.

Ryan finds his victim. “Kaitlyn. What d’ya say — truth or dare?”

As she ponders the question, his eyes catch Dylan’s and he can’t help but wonder what would have happened had he chosen ‘dare.’ 

[donnerpartyofone]

tagged by @moviesludge so this totally gratuitous info dump is his fault! Har har.

Do you make your bed? Sometimes! We usually just smooth out the covers, just so it's easy to get in at night and not all tangled up. I have a lot of just, executive and mechanical problems with maintenance and cleaning. I actually like having things neat and I like the monotony of cleaning, I have a fantasy life in which I'm just straight up a housewife, but I'm really bad at it. It causes me a lot of grief.

Fave number? 2! From when I was really little I had this sense that two was coming up all the time; obviously this must have been some sort of projection, but it stuck with me. I perceived some sort of subtext about being number two in life somehow, like being good but not meaningfully great at anything, which is fairly neurotic but typical of me as a kid. Anyway I was very disappointed when I learned by accident that Adam Levine has "222" tattooed on his arm, so I guess I won't be doing anything like that!

What’s your job? I guess I have to say I'm a writer, which feels embarrassing. If you say something like that, it sounds like you are succeeding at it, or that you at least make a living that way! Which is not, and may never be true. But it's the only thing anyone will pay me for right now. I have to admit that I feel pretty bad about this, I think I made a huge mistake by trying to see what I could do with my life, and not devoting absolutely all of my energy to finding and keeping a job in a cubicle or behind a cash register. Everyone automatically tells you it's best to "follow your dreams" or whatever but it's not very romantic to have no idea what's going to happen to you, and to be in danger because you're a fucking infant who doesn't know how life works.

Go back to school? Probably not. I was a good student up until I got into college, then I completely fell apart. Part of it was what I now understand are neurological issues, part of it was that I was so depressed I couldn't even get up and go to exams at times, and part of it was that I just had absolutely no idea what to do with my life or even HOW people do things with their lives (I still don't). Like I almost should have just done another four years in high school, or until I had some mental grasp of what college is even for, as a tool for transitioning into real life. The irony is that now I do college-level (possibly even grad level, sometimes) research and writing all the time, under my own power, just because I'm interested and I have a few outlets for it. My professors who struggled to get me to do anything would kill me if they could see what I'm doing now, haha. But if I were to go back to school, I would have to have an absolutely definite plan of why and what to do with it, that would make the debt and the time sink worth it. I admire people who do this, though, I do know adults who totally turned their lives around that way. I just don't have the brains for that.

Can you parallel park? I don't have a driver's license! I learned to drive, and I seem to recall being good at this during lessons. But I failed my one test, I genuinely think the conductor was being really confusing and getting angry with me--like, I was waiting at a light and when it turned green I started to go, and she goes, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!" and I said "I stopped at the red light and when it turned green I drove in the direction you told me to" and she goes "...WELL DID YOU *NOTICE* THAT IT TURNED GREEN???" which was a totally mindblowing question. And then I just felt so demoralized that I never tested again. But I also really think that if I got my license I would be dead by now, or someone else would be. I'm just so extremely nervous and absent-minded, and I also have pretty bad spacial understanding.

Job you had that would surprise people? My first job was working in a perfume factory! Or really it was like a plant that packaged these extremely toxic dollar store perfumes. It was run by a Russian family who were totally fucking insane and the machines were all janky, it was just a handful of us girls from high school working there and it's amazing none of us ever got maimed. The glue for the labels was really shitty, so they would set pallets of bottles out in the sun until they were blazing hot and then we were supposed to roll them between our palms to stick the labels back on. It was extremely painful and I remember thinking, they probably shouldn't be allowed to make us do this lol. The building was tucked back off the road across this wasteland, and there was a giant pile of broken toilets out front. I'll never forget that, I wish I had a photo.

Aliens real? You know what, I'm going to completely plagiarize moviesludge's answer because I find it so satisfying: "I feel like the scope of the universe makes this a certainty and it amazes me how many people think it’s a ridiculous idea. Talk about main character syndrome!" And I will just add that I read Whitley Strieber's Communion for the first time last year and it totally stunned me. I thought I knew what it was going to be like, because to some degree it established all of our cliches about alien abduction, but there's way more to it than that. He has this existential concept about what aliens even are, and what rules they obey, that is not at all restricted to the idea of animals that drive machines around. It's totally worth reading.

Can you drive stick? That's how I learned actually! And I have this concept that if I did have to drive I would be decent at it because I was fairly comfortable during lessons, and for years I have been riding my bike in really tricky situations all over the city. I know and obey the rules and I have a pretty good awareness of myself on the road. And also I always seem to be paired with a best friend or partner who LOVES to drive and I have spent huge amounts of time in cars, paying close attention and helping navigate. But as I said above, my brain is also garbage and I think if I drove a LOT and gave myself regular opportunities to get in trouble, I would inevitably have a nervous breakdown and/or fuck up way worse than a normal person.

Guilty pleasure? I'm with @thechurchofsplatterdaysaintssplatterdaysaints in that I sort of object to this concept. But I also spend a lot of time watching absolute shit movies and television, and some of the time I have an excuse--it's fun, it's anthropologically interesting, whatever--but a lot of the time I'm literally just deadening my senses because I'm so overloaded with depression and anxiety, and I'm not even paying attention, the TV is just ON. I don't think that's great. I don't know if I would call this "pleasure" but it is some form of indulgence.

Tattoos? A bunch! It's hard to explain but I kind of used them as a form of exposure therapy. I have struggled with some kind of phobia of doing anything that you can never change or take back, and getting tattoos helped. And I like them, I like most of mine. There's only two I'm really not crazy about, but they don't upset me that much, they have their good points too.

Fave color? Mainly red. Also orange and yellow and black. I kind of hate blue, my enjoyment of blue is highly conditional.

Fave type of music? In this phase of my life I generically prefer experimental or ambient music with no lyrics or vocals. This can span a lot of eras and genres.

Do you like puzzles? Maybe I would if I did them and I might find it therapeutic. Generally speaking I feel too stupid for them; like one thing I like about the original Resident Evil 4 is that the puzzle aspect of it is so primitive, it's almost in there just to check a box in between button-mashing violence. That's more my speed of game entertainment.

Phobias? Hm I'm afraid of lots of things, but as far as a proper phobia that's irrational: I have these fantasies of things exploding, like just shattering for no reason and being incredibly destructive. Like common household objects or whatever. And I have a lot of intrusive thoughts about people around me suddenly turning into psychotic monsters (monster can be literal or figurative) and I just can't find a rational defense reaction. But these are not true phobias in the sense of being a real, controlling force in my decision-making, I don't think they're really going to affect me. I really enjoy that thing about how trypohobia is not a real phobia because no one has to be treated for it in order to effectively navigate their life. It's just a dislike, and a pretty normal and understandable one. People on the internet have a lot of trouble telling the difference between things like phobias, moral objections, and just stuff that they don't like!

Favorite childhood sport? I was and am a total loser who can't do sports, but I guess the answer is karate. I took a year or two of that at a really great place sometime when I was 10-12, I really enjoyed the repetitive discipline of it and I was good at that kind of slow and steady, strength-based thing. I could say that I stopped because my mom was dying and that sapped my motivation, but I actually think the truth is that I was getting to the point where sparring was more a part of it, and I'm not fast or spontaneous and I don't like when people touch me, so I knew I was never going to test out of my last belt and I might not enjoy it as much as I advanced. I still think about doing another martial art, though. I think it might help me pay attention to my physical health, and get out of my head and into my body, and maybe it would also help me learn not to be so afraid of human contact. I need to pick something that's decent for people who are short and squat, though. Everyone always tells you there's no rule that says certain forms are suited to certain body types, it's all about integrity and commitment and building ability, but I really don't think that's true! (Let me know if you have opinions on this)

Talk to yourself? Yeah. Living in the city for a long time bred the habit of talking to myself like an absolute crazy person right out on the street when I'm not doing well; it's like, everyone else is acting crazy, who fucking cares! But I'll also talk to myself when I'm alone in the house just because I like words and making sounds and telling jokes. I have no problem with the stigma of talking to oneself.

Movies you adore? So many. Movies are my whole life. How do I pick, I don't know! Some recent ones I had to write about are UZUMAKI, DELICATESSEN, SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES, and DELLAMORTE DELLAMORE which might literally be my favorite movie of all time, although I have a problem with that concept.

Coffee or Tea? Mostly coffee, there's less action/decision-making involved. But I like tea also. Some of my favorites are licorice, anything with cinnamon, and also savory toasted grain teas.

1st thing you wanted to be when grew up? I wanted to be a screenwriter. I liked movies and my dad is a writer, and it just seemed obvious. But I never learned anything about the discipline of it or the professional trajectory. And I was really poisoned by the whole "you can be anything you want!" idea, I feel terrible for saying that when so many people get zero support or faith from adults in childhood, but it's true. I heard and believed that blanket statement, but I didn't have the clarity or mental toughness to specialize and understand the meaning and implications of having a goal. It was just like, oh I could be a writer, or I could be an artist, or I could be in the movies, or blah blah blah I guess one of these things will just land on my head some day. I had no fucking clue, I still don't. It's hopeless! But you wanna know what's really weird, when I was little I also had this strange fixation on being in the army--but I had zero fantasies about combat or anything exciting, it was entirely this idea about being really good at boot camp, being able to endure any form of punishment. And I had a similar concept about JAIL, I remember reading this children's photo book that explained all about prison, and I think it was just this whole fantasy about having intensely disciplined obedience and being able to endure anything! I still think I'm going to jail some day but it's just because I feel so guilty about everything. Obviously the main conclusion to be drawn from this is that I am a natural born pervert.

tagging @hechiceria @sleepsafe @columbosunday @clarabeau @barnsburntdownnow @punisheddonjuan

[whoblewboobear]

hiiii, I'm sending you a 📓 for that ask game

Eheheh thank you! Get ready for something so silly and dumb bc when I was writing part one of the period fic I got this idea for a fic that’s simply titled: Family Dinner.

So imagine Porter and Jace have agreed to give up the plan. They were kinda deep in it but it can’t be too hard to fix things and lay low. The only problem: how the hell do you reverse the effects of a shatter star? These idiots have no clue. That’s for them to figure out later. But first they need to tell the Rat Grinders the plan is off. So what do they do? Invite all of the Rat Grinders and their Parents into their homes for a big ol’ dinner party!!!!!!

Jace is very optimistic this will go well, he’s putting together the menu he’s SO EXCITED to host (but he is deathly nervous for the confrontation part of the evening) Jace doesn’t lift a finger to help Porter cook but he does tell him how handsome he looks and employs a mage hand or two to place something in the oven or to mix something if Porter asks nicely.

Jace does bail half way through to put on something really fancy and picks out something decent enough for Porter to wear. Porter manages to finish dinner on his own but it’s down to the wire when he hears the doorbell ring and of course the first to arrive are Kipperlilly and her parents. She’s low key freaking out messaging Porter like “Mr Cliffbreaker what the hell is going on 👀” and Porter just deflects and makes god awful conversation with her god awfully boring (but nice) parents until Jace taps him out to go get dressed.

By the time the rest of the kids and their parents get there, Jace and Porter gather them all at the table and are like “so before we eat, we have to come clean about something~” and pretty much lay out all the shit they did and go “But we promise to remove the crystals and they’ll also get extra credit for the dying part~” nobody says anything or moves and Jace is low key panicking bc this definitely feels like a moment where everyone in this room can and probably should kill them. And Porter is like 😬 bc technically this is all his fault.

Ruben raises his hand and asks if they’ll bring back Lucy too and that fully sets Kipperlilly off because what the fuck? What the actual fuck she did NOT work this hard just for it to go nowhere. And then she’s throwing food and family dinner just ends with Jace and Porter staring at their mess of a dining room and their nice clothes covered so much stuff.

Porter simply says, “I think that went well.” And Jace almost kills him.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Get To Know Me Tag

Thanks for the tags @lurkingshan & @telomeke! I really enjoy reading everyone's responses.

Do you make your bed?

Only when I wash my sheets, because then it's lovely to pull the covers down and get into a fresh bed. The rest of the time, I cannot be bothered. Plus I like naps, so will end up back in there at some point anyway.

What’s your favorite number?

I like 7 and 13.

What is your job?

Community Manager for a digital coworking/connection space. I'm also figuring out some outside consulting work.

If you could go back to school, would you?

What kind of school are we talking? Anything before age 18, hell, no. But more college? Sure. I would love to get more degrees if I had the money/spoons for it.

Can you parallel park?

Technically, yes, but realistically I will drive around the block multiple times to find a spot where I don't have to.

A job you had that would surprise people?

I'm not really sure what the average person finds surprising? I'm someone who likes to try new things, so I'm already on my 3rd career at this point, lol. Maybe some of my biology work? I guess that's a bit less common than office jobs, standing in a marsh in waist-deep water measuring crabs & eels, or building fences around plover nests to keep predators away.

Do you think aliens are real?

I think it's a very, very big universe and that pretty much anything is possible.

Can you drive a manual car?

Nope.

What’s your guilty pleasure?

Hmm, I don't know if I have one? I'm pretty blatant about all my pleasures, lol. I used to be more shy about what I liked, but now I just don't give a fuck what people think.

Tattoos?

One, an ankle tattoo I got while in college. I actually loved getting it, and would love another one, but I can't make up my mind on what I want for it.

Favorite color?

Blues & purples, usually of the deeper hues.

Favorite type of music?

I like so many different types. It just depends on what I'm in the mood for.

Do you like puzzles?

Love them! I'm also really good at them. Ever since I was a kid, I can do them much more quickly than my friends & family. Something just clicks in my brain.

Any phobias?

I don't think any of my fears hit the phobia level. I get nervous with heights but if I feel secure, I can handle it. I hate plummeting, so avoid roller coasters. I'm risk-averse, but it's more logic driven than animal-brain.

Favorite childhood sport?

Hahahaha. I am very klutzy and nonathletic, sports were never my friend.

Do you talk to yourself?

To myself, to my plants, to inanimate objects within my house. Just last week I was talking to myself so vigorously, with hand gestures, that I knocked my glasses off my face. (See note above about klutzy).

What movies do you adore?

Oh gosh, there are so many. I grew up watching the classics with my parents, so I have a very deep love for a lot of old movies. Inherit the Wind. Twelve Angry Men. Shadow of a Doubt. The Magnificent Seven. Some Like It Hot. I do like a lot of modern movies too, but I think there's something about the things we imprint on as children.

Coffee or tea?

One cup of coffee first thing in the morning (more accurately, one scoop coffee with one scoop Crio Bru, it's an awesome mix), and then tea at various times throughout the day.

First thing you wanted to be growing up?

I don't really remember. I always had interests in a lot of things, which probably explains my multiple careers.

Not sure who hasn't been tagged yet, @slayerkitty @italianpersonwithashippersheart @dramalets @sunshinechay @infinitelyprecious @mysterygrl20 @theelast-straw @karebear923 @troubled-mind?