#SORRY IF IT SUCKS YALL

[brooklynisher]

Alright, I'll post it here. Please be nice, it's my first published writing on here :}

CW for emotional distress, yelling, and animal abuse

Green Light

The Spine has been called on by Peter Walter to participate in a few tests, but The Spine can’t help but feel that there’s something very wrong about these tests.

The Spine stood still counting the number of wires in the room. He counted the wires, then the flasks, then the ratio of flasks, empty to full to partially full. He would read the paper. Making sure to read each and every word carefully and slowly. Refusing to continue until he understood every last bit of what he just read. This is how he spends his free time. It’s not like he has much else to do. Aside from the fact that he and all of the other robots haven’t been around for more than a few months, there’s also a lot he’s simply not allowed to do. But as much as he hates being unable to do anything he wants, he has developed some essential skills considerably faster than the others.

When he learned how to read, that’s all he really did, though he limited himself to the newspapers. He was pretty caught up in current events as a result. Counting, fractioning, identifying things around the room, while being relatively simple tasks to most adults, was a huge learning experience for the titanium robot. Anything he can do to be just a bit smarter was propitious. 

Peter Walter walks in with a strange expression on his face. The Spine can’t tell if he’s angry, passionate, if his feelings are strong or dull, he simply can’t tell. He feels it’s a failure in his ability to identify facial expressions.

“The Spine,” Peter starts.

“Yes sir?” The Spine straightens his posture.

“I need you to come with me.”

He makes a small gesture urging The Spine to follow him. The Spine spine responds with a simple, “Yes sir.” before taking his inventor’s lead. He tries to make sure any anxiety doesn’t show. He’s a robot after all. He’s not supposed to be feeling things like anxiety. Yet he can’t help but feel slightly anxious every time Peter calls on him to do something he doesn’t know anything about. They arrived in a small concrete room. It’s mostly empty with the exception of an oddly colorful board hanging high up on the wall. The board contains the names of each Walter automaton followed by 5 red lightbulbs. A few of the bulbs for each robot are green, but none are out of order. Peter orders The Spine to stay put before leaving the room. The Spine tries to make observations while he waits.

“Rabbit… 3 green lights… 2 red… Zer0… 5 green lights… 0 red… Hatchworth-”

Peter Walter has returned. The Spine straightens his posture once again. Peter seems to be pulling a large wagon of some kind. The contents inside the wagon are covered with a beige tarp. Peter approaches The Spine.

“The Spine,” Peter starts.

“Yes sir?”

“Take my wrist.”

He pulls up his sleeve. The Spine notices that Peter’s wrist seems to be oddly beat up. He’s not sure what this could mean, but he must obey orders. He grips his wrist as gently as possible trying not to harm him.

“Squeeze it,” Peter commands.

Squeeze it? But The Spine is made out of metal. Peter is made out of flesh. The Spine doesn’t have sensory receptors. Peter does. For all he knows, he already has a tight grip around Peter’s wrist. What if he hurts him? What would he do? But The Spine has learned that obedience is better than defiance. Even if it’s at the risk of causing more issues. He squeezes his wrist.

“AUGH!”

Peter pulls his hand away and turns his back towards The Spine. The Spine is instantly filled with regret, grabbing his own hand as if to keep it under control. He canes his neck just enough to see the damage he has caused. Peter’s hand is limp. Oh god.

“Pe- Mister Walter! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- I- I was just-” He tries to apologize, but the words struggle to escape him. He’s not even allowed to apologize. If he apologizes, then that means he made a mistake. And mistakes are a no-go here.

“Stop your stammering!” Peter hisses at him.

The Spine only hangs his head low. Ready to endure whatever it is that he deserves. Peter takes a big shaky breath in.

“You’re… you’re fine… This is good. You’re very strong. Maybe even the strongest automaton I’ve built yet… I could do without the apologizing and the stuttering.”

What? Good? He just broke his inventor’s wrist! Of all the mistakes The Spine made in his short lifespan, how was THIS the one that Peter excuses? Hell, he seems more angry about him apologizing and stuttering than he is about him breaking his wrist. What kind of twisted logic is that? Does he want The Spine to hurt him? But those are questions for later. The least The Spine can do right now is be considerate. He waits for a couple of moments to gather his thoughts before speaking.

“Sir, will your wrist be alright?”

“The depths of science in which I have delved are unlike any other. If I can build such a great number of automatons in such a short period using a substance I alone have discovered, then surely I can heal a broken wrist.”

He takes a controller out of his pocket with his good hand and pushes a button. One of the lights next to The Spine’s name turns green. He then turns to the wagon and pulls off one of the tarps, unveiling a dummy. He drags it out of the wagon and places it down on the ground using one arm. The Spine feels bad leaving him to struggle on his own like this, but he didn’t ask for help, so it’s best he just leaves it to him.

“Alright The Spine. Hit it.”

“... Anywhere?”

“As hard as you can.”

The Spine nods and faces the dummy. He can’t necessarily hit “hard” as he doesn’t have muscle but he can hit fast. So he curls his hand up into a fist and punches the dummy in the head as the humans do in news stories at full speed. The body is pushed back, head flying off. The head slams into the wall creating a small shockwave of dust. The Spine flinches. Peter side-eyes him but doesn’t say anything. He hits another button, and another bulb by his name goes green. He moves back to the wagon unveiling another dummy. He drags it to the center and looks straight towards The Spine.

“Activate voice protocol. The Spine,”

The Spine nods involuntarily.

“Activate blue matter ray projector arrays.”

And just like so, The Spine’s arm shifts into an intense-looking weapon. This throws The Spine off guard, but he keeps quiet.

“The Spine, I’d like you to shoot that dummy.”

The Spine looks at the dummy, then back at his hand.

“... How… How do I do that sir?” The Spine asks unaware he even had this feature installed.

“You’re going to have to figure it out on your own. Just as you will in order to disable it.”

The Spine looks back up at the dummy. He doesn’t understand what to do but still points his arm in its direction. He tries to move each part of his arm as if it were normal, and to his surprise, he is successful. The blue matter ray charged up. He aimed it toward the chest of the dummy feeling slightly uneasy. Something about this feels wrong, but he shoots. Before the beam hit, Peter managed to open up an umbrella, shielding himself from the bright red substance that now covers the room. The Spine’s body becomes a mess of red. He opens his mouth, but no words come out. What… What was that? While The Spine was still trying to process what had just happened, he didn’t notice Peter’s glare.

“Relax yourself.”

The Spine closes his mouth, straightens his posture, and tries to rest his shoulders and eyes. However, he finds that he is struggling to calm down. He doesn’t know why he feels so distressed, but something about that didn’t sit right with him. The third light next to his name turns green as Peter hits the button. He pulls out one more dummy, which makes The Spine feel nervous. 

“Activate voice protocol. The Spine, activate chainsaw.”

His other arm switches into a chainsaw, alarming him quite a bit. He tries to disable his other arm so that he has a free hand. As he does this, Peter simply stands against a wall and watches. He doesn’t say anything. The Spine looks back at him, hoping he tells him to do something different, but Peter only observes. It’s obvious what he wants him to do. The Spine turned back to the dummy.

“It’s probably just ink…” He thinks to himself still feeling uneasy. He preps his chainsaw and turns it on. The vibrations it produces are undeniably strong. It was almost as if he could feel it. He closes his eyes and slashes the chainsaw through the dummy. His eyes reopened to the sound of screaming. It’s even messier than before. He pulls his chainsaw back staring at the brutalized dummy now dyed red. Did it scream? Was it alive? He doesn’t move. His chainsaw slows to a full stop. What did he do? Another light turned green, he’s now down to his last light before all five of them turn green.

“Are you ready for your final test?” Peter asks.

Is that what they were? Not that it mattered what they were. The Spine was not ready. If anything he was afraid. He was afraid of what came next. He was afraid of Peter Walter. So of course, he nodded. Peter unveils the final hidden object in the wagon as The Spine deactivates his chainsaw. The final hidden object is none other than a crate. A crate… He opens the crate and pulls out a dog…

“No.” The Spine accidentally says out loud. He looks away, trying to hide his face.

“I’ll let you use any method you’d like.”

“No.” Though it was stupid before, it’s almost as though he can’t control himself. He knows what’s going to happen. He’s not going to follow through with this. Peter doesn’t say anything for a second. He then starts to speak.

“You know… there’s a reason why I’m not with the others right now.”

The Spine doesn’t respond.

“The others are sweet robots. And lighthearted ones at that. But they’ve always been a little bit… zany. Compared to you at least.”

The Spine grimaces.

“The only reason why I’m so ‘normal’ compared to the others is because you forced me to be! If I had it my way, I’d be just as wacky as the others, if not a bit more mature.” He wanted to say. But he knew arguing wouldn’t do him any good. Especially in a situation like this where that’s not the problem. So as much as he wanted to fight Peter on this, the best he could do for himself was bite his tongue.

“Such wild and eccentric personalities… They’d never want to hurt a soul… but that doesn’t mean they won’t.”

By now, four of the six main automatons have already achieved all five lights. That leaves one other who has yet to complete the test.

“And I’ll admit, it was partially my fault. My idea of the perfect robot would’ve never led up to this moment, yet it has. So for the sake of humanity, I’m going to need you to let go of some of what I had taught you. Obedience is key. Listen to me The Spine.”

The Spine slouches a little shaking his head.

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

“But I can’t.”

“The Spine-”

“It’s a living creature! I can’t make myself do it…” The Spine then makes the mistake of looking at the puppy. It yawns a big yawn before lying down. His resistance grows stronger. How is he supposed to kill this thing?

“Kill the dog The Spine.”

“Why don’t you just make me kill the dog? Won’t that be easier? It’s not like you don’t have the power to.” His response comes out much more disrespectful than he meant it to, but it seems like there’s no stopping himself at this point. Peter’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to kill the dog whether you want to or not.”

“That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it? You’re asking me to do things on my own accord but not unless you allow me to. What kind of sense does that make?” It was unlike The Spine to talk back so much. Even during moments where he was defiant, he’s never been this much of a brat about it.

“Spine-”

“You want me to kill Rabbit next? Make me kill your favorite robot just so you can yell at me for it afterward?” At this point, The Spine’s retorts became less relevant. Peter is getting fed up with his behavior. His patience now gone.

“DO YOU WANT THE BECILES TO WIN OR NOT?” Peter yells. This is enough to get The Spine to quiet down. He’s not sure if he knows what he means.

“WE ARE ON THE BRINK OF WAR. BECILE HAS GONE MAD AND IF HE WINS THIS COULD DETERMINE MORE THAN THE FATE OF SCIENCE. IT COULD DETERMINE THE FATE OF OUR STATE. IT CAN DETERMINE THE FATE OF THE WORLD. A SCIENTIST AS CRAZY AS HIM SHOULD NOT HAVE ACCESS TO SUCH INTENSE TECHNOLOGY AND SUCH INTENSE POWER. DO YOU WANT HIM TO GET AWAY WITH THAT?”

The Spine only looks down at the ground out of guilt. He’s not quite sure what Peter is talking about, but he knows he’s blaming him for… something. At least, that’s what it feels like. He pauses for a few seconds before finally saying something.

“I’m sorry Mister Walter… but… I can’t help it that I’m… I’m an individual… and I can’t… I can’t kill an innocent creature. I just can’t… I don’t want the Beciles to win, but I’m just not capable of this sort of thing. I’m sorry…”

Peter is about to respond when he hears a small yelp from the other room. The Jon’s 5th light has turned green. He looks back down at The Spine, but he doesn’t say anything. Even so, The Spine knows what he would say. When it comes to animals, The Jon was always the best with them. Something about his presence would just attract animals stronger than any bait. He loves animals, and the animals love him. It could not have been an easy assignment for him to kill a creature of any kind. Especially one as innocent and as sweet as a puppy. Yet he still had the guts to kill it. The Spine’s relationship with animals was minimal, yet he refused to kill one just because he didn’t want to. He knew this made him weak, but it didn’t change his stance. He simply hangs his head low out of shame.

Peter notices that he’s still reluctant to complete the task, so he turns to his last resort. He sighs as he lights a match. The Spine hears this and looks up at him. His eyes widened in terror. He’s heard horror stories about being burned alive. He knows what he’s going to do.

“Don’t. Please Mister Walter don’t hurt it-”

The Spine continues to beg Peter to leave the puppy alone, but ultimately he ignores him. Soon enough, the small animal begins screeching and yelping in pain. The sounds were enough to drive The Spine over the edge. He pulls out his blue matter ray and shoots the poor thing down as quickly as possible. The Spine can feel an intense amount of steam leaving his body, yet his body still feels unbearably hot. It’s as if the steam from his body wasn’t releasing fast enough. That was the last thing The Spine wanted to do, but he really didn’t have another choice. There was nothing he could’ve reliably used to put out the flames and even if he did find something, he wouldn’t know how to heal the small pup. It would only die slower. The only thing he could do was speed up the process.

Peter places a hand on his shoulder. The Spine stiffens. He’s using every last atom in his metal body to resist the urge to tear his inventor apart.

“Why did you kill it?” Peter asks.

“I- You set it on fire! It was suffering! It was in pain! I couldn’t just let it die such a terrible fate like that…”

“Mm..” Peter nods.

“The Spine, there’s something you need to understand.”

The Spine only looks at him.

“In war, everyone is always suffering.”

“...”

“Now, come with me. It’s clear to me that you need some serious repairs.”

The final red light turns green.

[l-cereta]

i think honestly the craziest thing abt transmisogyny isn't like the active moments of hate but the complete unwillingness and uninterest in anything we have to say — this assumption that if a trans woman is talking it's not worth your time and you can just scroll past. and then you'll have fuck terfs in your bio like nothing happened! wild

[bigcatbulges]

Source - BladeTiger_Art

(Artist's Facebook and Bluesky)

[bugboybuck]

Cake?

(For the one-word butcktommy prompt 🥰)

"Babe," Evan calls through from the kitchen. "Why is there like, a whole cheesecake in your fridge?"

Tommy's sprawled out on the couch, shirtless in sweatpants, flicking through the TV channels trying to find something that might appeal to Evan's picky watching habits. It's gone eight PM but Tommy just woke up - a long shift followed by a long day of crashing out in his bed - and Evan, on his own 48 off and smug about it, had turned up just to hang out. A few months in and they're still slowly getting the hang of how to parcel out enough time together around shift work, often chasing the end of each other's naps, sharing a meal that's breakfast for one of them and dinner for the other. But they're making it work.

Still, it's maybe a sign of Tommy's remaining grogginess after sleeping the day away that he has no idea what Evan is asking him right now.

"Where else would I put it?" Tommy calls back. He can just about see the backs of Evan's legs poking out from the fridge; Tommy's living room is part-open to the kitchen through a wide archway in the white stucco walls. Keeping one eye on the TV, he says, "Cheesecake goes bad if you leave it out."

"No, I don't mean-" Evan cuts off, and then closes the fridge and re-ermerges a moment later with half a zucchini muffin stuffed in his mouth. He'd apparently worked out after dinner and then come over to Tommy's still ravenous. Tommy is a little enamoured by the way Evan always eats like he's trying to set the world record for how much one person can fit in their mouth in one go. Evan swallows with great effort and continues, "What's the cake for? I didn't miss your birthday or something, right?"

"Don't worry - November thirteenth," Tommy says, beckoning Evan back into the room. Evan happily comes and flings way too much of his 200-plus-pound self on Tommy once. "Oof. You know I'm not the couch, right?"

"Really? Look like one to me," Evan says, grinning and prodding Tommy a few times while Tommy shoves him off until they're more cuddling than wrestling.

"The cake's just cake," Tommy says. "I felt like cheesecake this week."

"You - wait, so you bought yourself a whole cake? Just for no reason?"

Evan sounds completely bemused, which is unfairly adorable. Tommy presses a kiss onto his shoulder while Evan finishes the rest of the zucchini muffin. Tommy had bought those special because they're keto friendly, and Evan's still on a kick with that - no wonder he can't imagine buying cheesecake for the sake of it.

"The reason is that I like it," Tommy tells him. "I realised a few years ago that one benefit of being an adult who doesn't have to listen to a miserable tyrant of a father or CO or captain is that I can have cake whenever I want. So I do. Is that okay?"

Evan sort of melts into him. One of his long, strong legs brackets Tommy's ribs as he crawls more into Tommy's lap. "That's really cute and kind of ridiculous," Evan tells him. "I swear nobody believes me that you're like such a big kid sometimes."

"Hey, now," Tommy protests, lightly, teasingly.

"Your sweet tooth is very cute," Evan assures him.

"Well, yeah - why do you think I like you so much? You're like cookie dough cheesecake in human form." Tommy bites down lightly on Evan's strong shoulder, like he might eat him, and Evan laughs.

"It's cookie dough too? Oh man, babe, you really do have a problem."

"Alright, captain keto, that's enough out of you," Tommy says, and finally drags Evan into a kiss. He really is the only thing better than cake.

[theloveinc]

jo togame x reader - on possessiveness

(warning: she/her reader, pet names, alcohol, etc.)

-

Jo Togame has quite an odd way of showing possession over you.

He is, of course, always happy to fight with his fists when need be, but unlike some of his… friends, he doesn’t usually feel the need to use violence to show others that you belong to him.

In fact, if anyone asked you about it, you’d probably answer that you’d never even seen your boyfriend jealous—that even when you’re shaking your butt when you’re out with him in a skimpy little number, he’s cool as a cucumber, just like normal.

But that’s not entirely true, as there is a little something he pulls when he notices others paying attention to you the way only he ever should—

“Baby?”

Togame presses his hand against the warmth of your lower back, slow to let it creep down to the curve between your hip and ass as he approaches from behind. You’re leaning against the bar of the busy club, smiling sweetly at the bartender who’s currently adding extra cherries to only one of the two drinks you’ve ordered, now starting to sweat on the lacquered wood where they wait to be handed off.

You are a sight for sore eyes. In Togame’s mind, you always are, but there’s something about tonight especially that has you glowing and has seemingly everyone noticing. If he were anyone aside from your boyfriend, or he was two inches deeper in a nicer mood, it’s possible he wouldn’t be so … irked by the attention you’re receiving… but something about the way this stranger appears to be gunning for more than just a tip doesn’t sit right in his stomach.

“Jo!” you turn away from the show easily, smile going from cheeky to something soft when your eyes lock with his. You’re quick to abandon your previous conversation, full of what Togame observed were comments made for batting beautiful eyelashes and forcing giggles, and lean into him, standing on your tippies to press a kiss to the side of his mouth as a version of hello. “What are you doing? I was just about to find you.”

You’re not just a pretty thing, you’re a sweet thing too, and it’s clear you had no intention of finding yourself swept up into a conversation with the man mixing your drink, but nonetheless, anyone who runs tabs at a bar should be able to recognize when the only reason someone keeps responding to their frivolous comments is because they’re too polite to cut short a conversation.

“Is everything okay, my love?” you ask, as though it’s clear something is on Togame’s mind, and you thread your fingers through the soft hair at the back of his scalp to draw his attention back to you.

He has to suppress a grin thinking about the little show he’s giving your new friend.

“I’m not sure,” he responds, letting the words settle one by one, watching as worry starts to weigh down your brow. Though he’s more intent on keeping your focus away from anyone other from him, the bartender’s annoyed expression does not go unnoticed out of the corner of his eye. “The music’s making my head hurt, thinkin’ I might head out soon?”

“Oh no!” you suck in a sharp breath, your lips tightening in a concerned frown as you move to press the back of your hand to his forehead, “want me to come with?”

“It’s okay, baby. Stay. Enjoy yourself, alright?” he presses a kiss to your pout, maneuvering your hand from his face to hold to his chest. He milks the moment, pulls away from the lights, the noise, and the people to drink you in, and remind any animals who think they have a chance at something more than just your courtesy that they don’t, and never, ever will.

“No, no,” you break the silence, dropping your hands from him only to make sure your tiny purse is still attached to the chain hanging from your shoulder before linking his arm with yours, “I’m going. No reason to stay, anyway. Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

(Togame can imagine what will happen when you're home: you'll run him a hot and herbal bath, he'll coax you into the water with him, and the steam will get you both get light headed enough for the medicinal to turn into something more erotic—and by the time the both of you wake up tomorrow, naked, limbs sticky and tangled, he'll be perfectly refreshed.)

“Miss, your drinks?”

You’re half away step away when the bartender calls, but without letting go, you throw a couple hundred yen behind you without even a cold look back.

"You can dump them, sorry.”

And while you take the lead to the road, Togame looks over his shoulder and grins.

She picked me.

[whorrorbvby]

Happy titty Wednesday** 🤣

technically 2 days late but can you forgive me for a gif 🙏🏻

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

Let Tord feel Matt's bite already, he wants it so much, ahah

*SIGH* well okay then, if you insist ;)

Content warning: suggestive content, mild blood

[purplebehittindifferent]

I guess I wouldn’t want my friend to know I committed genocide either…

masterpost

prev (INTERLUDE) / next (3::2)

[i-would-like-to-be-an-a-i]

Eepy

[mamamangaka]

Valentino: what does he have that I don’t?? *pointing accusingly at Husk*

Husk: *drinks while giving Val the finger*

Angel: literally everything

Valentino: IM FUCKING VALENTINO—

Angel: yeah no shit sherlock, that what’s I don’t like about you

Husk: *audibly purring*

[laurzvahll]

kiru belongs 2 @wewerebornsextuplets

[g3othermal3scapism]

People who like violently hate Claire, call her ugly and say she’s a bad doctor, are generally misogynistic towards her or say awful things about her because she “gets in the way of sydcarmy” are wrong and stupid (and fucking weirdos)

…On a separate note, people who think Claire is a genuinely well-written and realistic (or interesting) character who was a perfect person and right all of the time and should end up with Carmy….. are also wrong.. and I’m not gonna say stupid but

[gg-neptune]

Severus when he's sick

This is for sure not my best writing, but I wanted to upload something, and I just got rlly bad news so yeah. I hope you enjoy it if there's any feedback pls give it I am always trying to improve. I am currently working on something, and I am putting like my all into it and yeah, it's a work in progress. Also sorry this is rlly short

Warnings: Sickness, really bad writing, emetophobia

He will ignore the fact he feels sick for as long as he possibly can

No matter what you do you cannot get him to admit he is sick

He will be hacking and sneezing and throwing up all while saying, “No I’m FINE.”

Like a stubborn little child

While he is doing his power walk to the Great Hall Professor McGonagall sees him

He’s pale and sweaty and his power walk is not looking so good today

She is very motherly and in a very motherly was grabs him by the ear and drags him right back into his chambers

Which you are very grateful for

Because it was going to have to be you or her that did it and you did not want to have to be the one

When you finally convince him to stay in bed (Professor McGonagall tells him she will drag him back if he gets out of bed again) he just sits there and grumbles like a big baby

He is used to having to take care of himself when he is sick so having you there is very different for him, and he’s not accustomed to it

After you explain to Dumbledore the condition, he’s in he lets both of you take off for as long as you need

He falls back asleep pretty soon after getting back into bed and after

So, you join the poor sick man back in bed and fall asleep with him

You have to cuddle in a position you normally wouldn’t because he’s all congested and can’t breathe but he’s honestly just happy you're here

And your happy he’s resting finally

Only to wake up to him grumbling messing around in the kitchen attempting to make soup in his half-asleep sick state

You have to drag him to the couch and finish making his soup for him because right now he is a hazard

You have to explain to him that you are perfectly ok with taking care of him while he is sick and that he is not weak for needing it

He finally starts to believe you just a smidge as he eats

When he starts getting comfortable, he gets clingy

Like really bad

He’s going to find every excuse to have you near him no matter what and if you aren’t he acts like you just killed his puppy or something

After finally having someone to take care of him his body recovers quick

It finally can take time to rest and recuperate and not have to work so within the next two or three days he is ok even if he doesn’t take any healing potions or anything

However, he is eternally grateful for you helping him through his sickness

Because if it wasn’t for you, he would have had to just take care of himself and while yes, he would’ve been fine it is much nicer to have someone else dote on him and make sure he was properly hydrated and fed and even he couldn’t deny it

[manchesterau]

seeing so much about dan's height yall pls open up your dan and phil cat calendars and look through them

[farther-north]

Day 3 of drawing Hermitcraft members daily: Team ZITS

[gomzdrawfr]

No ghost in a box today bcuz i got sick :(