#Taking my stickbug for a walk

[its-a-beautful-day]

If stickbugs where the size of small dogs, I would take them on a walk to the park. Maybe they would enjoy playing with sticks or would I loose them up a tree?

[sister-lucifer]

Brian/Hoodie, Toby, + Eyeless Jack with a chubby S/O

Brian, Toby, + EJ x Gender Neutral Reader (Separately)

[Anonymous Request]

Genre: Fluff + NSFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW but no smut, lots of body talk (all positive), so if that makes you uncomfortable be aware, oral sex (reader receiving), Toby likes to suck titties, Toby is very handsy 

A/N: i’m almost definitely projecting on this one cuz i have a chubby partner and i lub him🥺 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Brian 

[SFW]

Brian’s a pretty lanky lad, he’s built like stickbug 

So having a chubby S/O would be a WONDERFUL contrast for him!

His favorite thing is being able to use you as a human weighted blanket 

He cant fall asleep without you, not after that first snuggle session! Your presence is so warm and calming 

You’re just perfect for cuddles, especially spooning 

Any excuse he has to wrap his arms around you, he’s taking it, 100% 

Big bear hug with a playful squeeze to boot 

+ He’s asking you to sit on his lap any chance he gets 

Oh there are three other chairs you could use? But he loves you:( Sit with him:( He’s just a little guy:(

( (manipulatively) )

I’m sure we all know that finding plus sized clothes that are cute but not expensive as FUCK is way too hard, but that problem is completely out the window now 

Brian has mad sewing skills, so he can alter OR duplicate anything you’d like! 

(The only catch is he has to make/get a matching one for himself, this is non-negotiable, sorry) 

[NSFW] 

Of course, we can’t always be family friendly wholesome here 

Let’s just say he loves having so much soft, plush skin to grab onto 

This man is a head giving god, like ridiculously skilled 

And not only that, he really enjoys doing it. For him it can sometimes be more enjoyable than the actual sex part 

He looooves grabbing onto your thighs and hips while he eats you out, just grabbing handfuls of everything he possibly can 

He gets really into giving oral too, like closing his eyes and moaning and just giving it his all, completely invested 

He’s gripping on for dear life 

Don’t be surprised if you have bruises in the shape of his fingertips 

And if you’re feeling especially generous, make sure you squeeze his head with your thighs 

It’s his fave ❤️ 

Toby 

[SFW]

Honestly this segment is gonna be pretty short 💀

Writing anything SFW for Toby is hard, he’s too much of a horndog 

He’s also a cuddle bug much like Brian, so a lot of those headcanons could apply to him 

He’s very tactile so he tends to be grabby, especially with your thighs and love handles 

Not even exclusively in a sexual way, a lot of the time it’s really just a sensory thing 

His hands just absentmindedly wander, and you just happen to be close by most of the time 

He’s not a big fan of anyone or anything laying on top of him at all since it makes him feel trapped, so he likes laying on top of you instead! 

It really helps calm him down after he gets hyper or upset 

[NSFW]

Forgive me if this is a controversial take, BUT: 

Toby is a boobs guy 

And I don’t just mean breasts, I don’t just mean AFAB chests

Any sort of soft chest fat will do 

He’s using his mouth a loooot, sucking and biting and leaving little marks all over your chest and nipples 

And every chance he gets he will grab your chest 

You could be fully clothed doing something completely unrelated to him and if he walks by he’s slipping his hands under your shirt 

He’s grabbing everything tbh 

Once again, it’s a sensory thing that can wind up horny 

He loves your thighs even more than Brian does 

Thigh jobs are his fave ever, not only because your thighs are easy to get to at all times but because they’re so warm and soft and perfect!! 

And the entire time his wandering mitts are squeezing and groping every bit of skin he can get to 

Jack

[SFW] 

Since EJ can’t exactly rely on his sight, he has to use his other senses, one of the most common ones being touch 

He can be touchy too, but not in the same way Toby is 

He doesn’t grab or squeeze or anything, he simply runs his hands over you, often over your clothes 

He likes feeling the softness and the curves of your body, just tracing his fingers over your hips and tummy 

Especially holding your face, rubbing his thumbs over your round cheeks and admiring your beauty in his own way 

He also headbutts like a cat when he wants attention, so don’t he surprised when you randomly feel his face against your stomach or leg 

If you really wanna show him love, let him lay on your chest while you scratch his head 

He likes to be able to listen to your heartbeat 

Jack has many animal like behaviors, one of those being kneading or ‘making biscuits’ like a cat 

If he’s kneading the soft skin of your stomach or thighs, that’s how you know he’s suuuuuper comfortable 

Like, as comfortable as he can possibly get 

Be prepared to be used as a pillow very often 

[NSFW] 

Jack is also good at giving head, but not in the same way Brian is 

He’s not as skilled or practiced, but you can’t go wrong with up to five squirming tentacle tongues working to get you off at any given time 

(Plus, he purrs, which basically turns his mouth into a vibrator) 

He also really enjoys fingering you, and will often use his hands and tongue at the same time 

Your insides are just so warm and soft, and he’s attracted to that heat 

He could get lost in your warmth and sweet taste 

He’ll run his hands gently over your body the entire time, and it’s certainly not unusual for him to knead during these sorts of activities 

He likes to lick you as well, and if you allow him to get a bit carried away, he’ll run his tongue up and down your body 

There’s just something about your plush skin and wonderful curves that completely captivate him in a way that nothing else can 

[the-kr8tor]

who decided to name sleepovers 'sleepovers'? THE LAST THING YOU DO IS SLEEP..it should be 'tryingtosummonjesusat1am-overs' (Ive been invited to one again) Daily Hobie HC! General hcs for this one>:) - Hates maths with a passion but is godly at it, and good at explaining it. He is a massive science lover though, and is also good at it. - Very accident prone, especially in places he's not familiar with. It's like Hobie forgets he's a walking stickbug. - Definitely has a kazoo somewhere just to annoy people with. - Gets unusually flustered and shy with compliments towards his glasses, especially coming from you. He hates them, but contacts sometimes irritate his eyes with how often he's had to take them out with shaky hands from being Spider-Punk. - Probably pretty good at shadow puppetry with how long and lanky his fingers are. - If it's your birthday, rest assured all of your gifts are handmade and customized to fit your interests. - If it's winter, his feet go cold while the rest of his body is still hot. - If you're laying on his chest, absent-mindedly (with your permission beforehand) he'll definitely be playing with your hair, lightly scratching/massaging your scalp and making sure not to tug. Hobie will even go so far as to take the time to make small braids in your hair, keeping only a few to tease you and undoing the rest. - His way of dealing with cuteness aggression is to go nom, so watch out. - DEFINITELY has some plants on a windowsill of the boathouse, which he cares for on his life. - If he reads, Hobie is CURSED with books that are apart of an incomplete series, leaving him on a cliffhanger for months until the next book comes out. - Originally his laces were white, but Hobie dyed them blue to convey the 'cop killer' lace code. - Despite the spiky appearance, he's got a soft body (when relaxed). Think of a giant plushie, cus that's him. -🐦‍⬛

Yeah it should be tryingtosleepwithoutablanketbecauseyourfriendforgottogiviveyouone 🤓☝️ have fun at your party!!!

Daily Hobie HC ❤️❤️❤️

Yay I always love general hcs!

Can't be me who is an absolute idiot with numbers 😭 (can he tutor me pls)

Imagine someone talking abt something shitty that he doesn't agree with and he brings out his kazoo and plays it to annoy the person like "yknow they should just---" pfft 🪈 (let's pretend that's a kazoo)

I'll never take my eyes off of him whenever he wears his glasses 😍🥰🥰

I bet Billie and mona loved it when he does shadow puppets! They'd be like "a kangaroo next! A whale!" Then he actually does it well!

He better be prepared to make his own merch then 🤭

PLEASE I WANT THAT 🥹🥺

I'm gonna bite him back 😈

Lmaoo imagine him accidentally waking you up in the middle of the night bc his book ended in a cliffhanger

I just want to cuddle with the stickbug 🥹

Yummy HCs

[joemomrgneissguy]

"They're moving in herds... They do move in herds"- Alan Grant, Jurassic Park

Happy Jurassic Week!

December 15-20th (201.3-145.0 Ma)

Ceratosaurus enjoying a picnic on the beach

If the Earth's history were compressed into a single year, now would mark the Jurassic period.

While Ichthyosaurs and Plesiosaurs swim the seas, Dinosaurs undoubtedly rule the land at this time.

A wide variety of theropods such as ceratosaurus and early tyrannosaurs walked the earth alongside the titanic sauropods, as well as early ankylosaurs and stegosaurs. Some dinosaurs were even experimenting with challenging the pterosaurs for their dominance of the skies, with early avian adaptations taking place for archaeopteryx.

While this period is primarily known for the dinosaurs' rise to prominence, many modern families and forms begin to take shape during this time.

Modern sharks begin to swim the seas while the ancestors of turtles begin to branch off and diversify. The ancestors of all modern lizards and snakes diverge from the rhynchocephalians (whose only living member is the tuatara), while frogs learn how to hop and modern salamanders take their place in the shallows. Early pines and cedars begin to take root alongside gingko trees, marking a transition from plants reproducing primarily via spores to seeds. Stickbugs, spiders, butterflies, moths, dragonflies, weevils, mites and many modern beetles skitter or buzz through the brush as mammaliaformes take a myriad of forms by adapting to anything from living in the water to gliding through the air like a flying squirrel. All of these, and other recognizable forms such as gar, sturgeon, paddlefish, crabs, octopuses, and vampire squid are known from the Jurassic, even though they didn't get top billing.

This is all to say, do you think they should have had mammal enclosures, or botanical gardens, or even a proper aquarium in Jurassic Park?

Who do you wish was included in the "dire consequences of my actions" theme park?

[pogchampia]

here we go...

I'VE DONE IT

i've never loved a stickbug more in my entire life i could kiss it right on the mouth

look at that BEAUTIFUL filled out card

(ignoring the fact that i made such slow progress over the years lmaao)

i am OVERJOYED

and OVEREXHAUSTED

FINALLY I CAN GO TO BED

it's 1am, despite what the in-game clock says

GOOD NIGHT, CROSSINGBLR,

(but i might take a good walk thru the completed bug exhibit before i call it a night)

[sc3n3kitt3h]

@kkandikid BOY OH BOY MAN OH MAN AM I GLAD U ASKED!!!!!

sillyclan is one of many clans living in the silly little unnamed city in my very twisted and fucked up mind. specifically they live in a back alley, with empty boxes and whatnot acting as dens. They eat pidgeons and rats and discarded food and stuff. The founder and clan leader, sillystar (who was previously a kittypet show cat named princess which is why she gets 2 have a cute ponytail), founded the clan after meeting wolfblood, the current deputy of sillyclan and at-the-time renowned warrior of emoclan. while sillystar and by extension the rest of sillyclan are completely for peace between the clans and are very kind to other clans, emoclan sees sillyclan as their rivals. so they have a completely one sided rivalry that sillyclan is somewhat oblivious to.

wolfblood is completely devoted to sillystar and sillyclan, and will take any and all perceived threats, no matter how minor, VERY seriously. She swore to protect sillyclan with her life and her life revolves around that duty. this also sometimes ends up in some scuffles with other clans, but it never gets too serious because its a small clan and when theres a fight, EVERYONE gets involved and so sillystar is always there 2 put a stop 2 it. since wolfblood is so devoted 2 sillystar it might SEEM like theres some romantic stuff going on, but theyre actually just queerplatonic bffsies.

Sillyclan also has 2 healer cats! softpaw, who is very shy and has a one-sided schoolgirl crush on wolfblood that she will NEVER confess 2, and frogwater, who sort of has a mad scientist thing going on. who knows what her deal is! either way, she gets the job done, even if her demeanor and fascination with deadly things are a bit offputting.

The rest of the sillyclan members are: lilydream, palecloud, batfang (who has a rivalry with frogwater going on. theyre both mean old ladies hehe!),stickbug, cherrybliss, fuzzyfeather, mossystone, mothglow and nova, whos a runaway kittypet and sillyclan's most recent member. he decided 2 keep his kittypet name though!!! mothglow and cherrybliss are mates and so are lilydream and palecloud!!! :)

more on emoclan: emoclan lives at the local dump! the leader is edgystar, who is secretly wolfbloods father! natrually he's pretty upset about the whole wolfblood fucking off 2 go found his own clan with some random kittypet, so thats what really drives emoclans rivalry with sillyclan, even if the rest of emoclan doesn't really know it. They just sort of go along with it 4 funsies and territory. i havent REALLY developed emoclan or the rest of the clans beyond that though.

The other clans are gardenclan (very iffy on the name still), who reside in a community garden, and spireclan, who live on top of buildings, jumping from roof 2 roof and walking on wires 2 get from point a 2 point b. I have a few ideas 4 them but nothing concrete yet :P maybe i'll come up with a few more!!!

this is all the definite stuff i have so far, but im coming up with new stuff ever day :3 and i have soooo many more ideas!!! i hope u all like what i have so far hehehe >u<

being really autistic about my warrior cats clan rn. my oc clan. its called sillyclan i love it very much. ask me anything pls pls pls pls pls

[qingxintea]

heartbreak avenue (3) || albedo x reader

heartbreak avenue (1) heartbreak avenue (2) -- tell me how, do you do this thing called living? when theres nothing more to gain. gn reader -- ignore the link below idk how tf to hyperlink on mobile but that’s ur part 4 ig

damn. imagine missing mond so much that you visit just for the vibes and accidentally become a one time vigilante for dominating over a couple abyss mages

how oddly specific!

you moment.

TO BE FAIR, you didn't mean to and also ur just strong with that 245% crit damage ugh yeah yeah get it ig

it was night time, like, idk 1am and you were in this cloak because idk look swaggy and comfortable

abyss mage went ŏ̸̡̡̹̘͉̫̬̬̭̘̙̝͐͒̆̈́̒̿̄́͠͝ǒ̸̧̺͕̣̬̝̱͈̭̭̻̮̈̏̔͆̑̀̍ǫ̵̡̜̲̭̠̤̰̹͍̣͎̤̈́̓̍͠ḩ̴̡͍̣̹̯̭̩̮̣̩̭́̔̀̍͊̂͒́̆͘͜͝͝ȃ̷̧̡̢̡̨̛̪͓̤̜͕̳̦̼͊̏̃͆̓̈́̈́̽̈́͌͐̋̚ͅh̸̡̩͍̟͕̥͚̰̰̟̮̖̪̉̈́͛͂̍̾a̸̧̢͕̙̞̳̩͈̲͉͕̒̆̎̐̎̍̀͊͘̚͝h̸̡̼͓̝͕̫̤̰̱̬̣̗͚̙̀͜ and you were like "lmao shut up"

and like it did! because you made it shut up and also mans diluc was watching in his dark knight hero thingy

of course you noticed his presence from the beginning, you just wanted to piss him off and act like he wasn't there at all

you walked. straight past him like he was actually on the bridge in the middle and you just w al ked .

i mean ofc he gonna say something. and he did. dude said "who r u"

stared at him directly in the eye and said "the embryo made of chewed bubblegum."

he stared. sh o ck ed . what were you even saying

"jk im a resident of mondstadt, visiting from my liyue trip."

"and how do i know you arent lying?"

you sighed and grabbed your dendro vision, letting him look at the frame. "its incased in a mondstadt styled frame." after a few seconds, you put it back. "if that is all, i'll be going."

"k"

"literally fuck off" you responded and walked inside.

sometimes you forget how rude mondstadt people are lmao loser.

ok so like this donna girl really went up to you like "JFKLSJFLKSDJFL NUMBER ??? HELLO ?? UMM THE WAY YOU SAVED MONDSTADT RLKDFFC" and you resisted every urge to flip her off on the spot.

you just stayed and let her talk, smiling through all of it. your hood was still on but it was quite windy s ooo

its been ten minutes. girl please let us go. you were literally begging for anyone to cut in because ur too nice (or unbothered) to tell her to shut up even though you totally went off on diluc aadahahhshdf

and someone did! not the one you expected though.

"good evening donna, and... oh? who would you be?"

ALBEDO LMAO GET STICKBUGGED? ? ? ?? AH a hjfkahfjah . im so funny .

guys i meant that ironically please

anyway

you got even more uncomfortable lmao and you just looked at him and smiled. what do you respond? "no one of importance."

he heard your voice, saw your eyes and it registered. it was you...

or was that what he wanted to believe?

cause this whole time hes been waiting for you, only using experiments as a thing to pass time. it got... a little more lonelier, because nothing could replace you.

he decided to not believe it. because 1) you knew well they welcomed you with open arms, so there would be no need to hide yourself

(which is also proof of how much the whole situation fucked up your thinking)

a second of silence before he continues on the conversation with normal evening meeting stuff things idk

then ur like "ahhshaaajk i must be taking my leave now for matters i will not disclose ahaha skidoosh"

skidoosh

so you go to the big venti statue next to the cathedral and just stand. stare. yikes

no ones out right now and theres nothing to do. but you remember this place because its where the both of yall would eat together whenever he had free time (which wasnt that often, but he still made the effort)

you look up to the sky, counting all the stars like you used to.

no ones gonna know that you're here, you decided on that. you only visited because you simply missed it, but after this, you were going back to liyue.

no ones gonna know. because no one needs to know. no one needs to know that you were here. that would only cause more trouble to the situation you tried to avoid

albedo ends up catching up to you later, still having some spark of hope left that it really was you

i mean lowkey there isnt really anything saying it wasnt. he wanted to believe that he was just overthinking when he thought it really wasnt you

like you look the same. sound the same. its just the reasoning of you coming here, but he can push that aside

"(y/n)."

you flinch but didnt react with anything else. he doesnt need to know that its you.

"(y/n)?"

you turn around to meet his eyes as he was approaching you. slightly distancing yourself another inch away as you were not used to the proximity, you responded, "i'm afraid i'm not the one you're looking for."

albedo stops for a moment, and was about to apologize,, but then

yknow that wind i mentioned earlier? like right after donna started bothering you

yeah that same wind blew ur hood off! lmao L

okay time to get serious !

you stay composed and sighed, your breath visible in the cold air.

so your features are exposed, and its so obviously you, like theres literally no way it cannot be you

"it really is you..." he doesnt understand why youre not admitting to it. "(y/n), please.."

you shake your head and walk away but mans grabs your wrist gently

"(y/n), whats wr-" he starts, but youre quick to respond

"im not (y/n)." you flat out said it and looked right into his eyes. and you swear there were small tears even if he was deemed nonchalant.

he doesnt understand, its your physical features, and your same energy, there is no other person that completely matches it.

he pulls you closer to examine this black smudge on your hand, a small yelp of surprise coming from you.

"this is... ink," he studied the properties of the substance. "you responded to my letter a day ago. (y/n)... i know by now. there's no reason to hide it."

you step away, freeing your hand from his grasp. your voice broke, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "i'm not... i'm not (y/n). i never will be. i'll never be so vulnerable again, i'll never be so naive again, i'll never be so lonely again, i will never ever be anything like they were again."

your vision blurred, but you werent oblivious to the tears streaming down his face as well. reaching to brush them away, you paused and let it drop to his shoulder instead.

"albedo. i... the (y/n) you knew... they're gone now. and if i could revert back to them any time, i would, i swear, but... i'm al-... they..." you buried your head in your hands. "i'm broken. to the point that i refuse to identify as the (y/n) you know me by."

doesnt know what to say, so he almost pulls you into a hug before you move out of the way. something you never did.

"don't... please. it never works out in the end." you shake your head, facing the other way. "for me at least."

"..we could work together, no?" he tried, still oblivious about your feelings towards him.

"only if you're willing to cross your moral boundaries," you looked back and tilted your head. taking a deep breath, you continued, "but you know that neither of us are willing to do that."

he couldn't say anything, because as much as he hated to admit something for once, you were right about that. at this point, he would've thought that literally any extent would've been fine to reach to bring you back.

yet in multiple situations where he's doubted himself before, theres always a line he will never cross.

"...i wish you the best. treat her well because i worked hard." you walked away without him stopping you this time. i worked hard. not we worked hard.

even if you had honestly felt that way, there was no chance the old you wouldve actually voiced that.

and so he watched you slip from his grasp again, only this time, he stopped himself from holding you back from his own will.

yet he swears- the next time he meets you again, he will bring you back.

[ridreamir]

Edit: This is all scrapped, but I'm not sure if I want to delete the post or not. I guess you get to see the really really ugly part of my trash writing process :stickbug: for now, that is

I think I'll also be writing oneshots/smaller things to keep me going

This song is going to be the inspiration for one of them :^) I have not slept for the longest time :E __________________________________________________

A simple practice of mindfulness. 

On a day of light rain, take special care in noticing the sensations of the body. This can be done alongside gentle exercise, what is most important is understanding the equilibrium of the self. Though not required, mindfulness of one’s inner voice is suggested, as training the body and mind together is a practice of both balance and mindfulness. Just as one cares for the body and soul, so too does the space in which one dwells. Awareness of one’s surroundings can also be considered a meritable practice of mindfulness.

After all, there is a spiritual element that may be maintained when considering one’s place within the walls of a sacred space, and reflexively, within the structure of the world. On days of less gentle rain, none could go out into the main courtyard without dragging a trail of water following close behind, so many stayed inside. Some of the temple hands would stay to watch as you went about polishing what you could find in an effort to keep busy, but no words were ever exchanged beyond a simple, polite cordiality. Cleaning for the monastery has been a rigorous form of training in its own way, despite not being the standard breed of spiritualist. Not just the physical strain, but your emotional strength had constantly been under question, and it was easy to make a fool of yourself by saying the wrong thing. Silence was a virtue itself despite the problems it brought. 

 It must have looked like a simple practice of gratitude in exchange for indefinite sanctuary. 

.

.

Often, there is a mat laid out beside the open columns that overlook the courtyard. Without elsewhere to go, It is you that rests in solitude, beneath the star laden sky. The marble of the floor is cold to the touch. A hand rests against it, smoothing slow patterns down along the weathering. A cold front rolls over the mountain, bringing a breeze to caress a sliver of exposed skin. Your side is warm, flush against the bamboo, dry in the absence of rain. 

It is not always unpleasant to sleep outside during the rainy season. But it does remind one that there are few pleasures afforded to those who seek to obtain spiritual piety. For those that remain, they must be sought out. You could think of a select few. 

 The meals are offerings of rice and grain on most days, meant to sustain the body. They were hardly frivolous by any means, but they did well to feed and nourish. On days of light rain, the tin rattling of the roof follows no pattern nor rhythm. A single rain catcher is allowed to hang underneath a barren tree, its branches not yet over-cumbered by a million tiny blossoms. The light green papules on the bark are a sign that they are soon to come. Though welcome to walk amongst the temple hands, you have not been recognized as one. Many offer you no acknowledgments as they wander along, fulfilling their simple duties. It is clear that you are in many ways not a member of the temple, but rather a charitable case living under its roof. These have been your observations in your time at the monastery. You were not upheld to pious standards nor teachings, so long as you did not disrespect sacred space. That did not at all mean that you hadn’t picked up a few of the teachings that were common practice. As the unfitting puzzle piece, you had begun to trace the cracks in the marble, looking for a place to belong. 

.

.

There is one sole monk that never fails to address you in times you find your paths interwoven– usually in the early morning and just after dusk. 

He is a teacher, an overseer of some kind. He seems to be of the belief that one need not be of pious background to benefit from mindful practices. Thus, it was he who offered you the most in terms of conversation. You let him do the speaking, not looking to showcase your ignorance of their customs. He seemed not to mind, and even less like he’d be the type to judge, unlike many others living under the monastery in the name of ancient tradition. 

It had made sense, that he had taken some interest in your doings. When you had woken underneath the ornate ceiling of the main atrium for the first time, it had been his name that the temple hands had called for. After some intense questioning, he had since concluded that appearances made little difference in genuine innocence. Though you had wanted to express some sort of gratitude for his willingness to consider you, daily duties had kept you on separate sides of the complex, leaving you locked out of the restricted areas he’d been expected to frequent. It was lonely, truthfully, watching him disappear behind a row of arches that seemed to lead to a staircase far down the hall.

From what you could glean, the libraries had also been past the forbidden arches, not that you could even read the Hanzi scrolls, yet there was little left for you to memorize past the scars on the bark beneath your favorite tree and the days it last rained. 

.

.

You continued to look for ways to practice mindfulness, unconventional as your methods had been. It did not matter to you how you achieved a sense of bettering yourself, so long as you had been making progress. Not that it was easy, being self-taught. Trying to catch the movement of sprouts as they broke from the earth, you’d attempt to sit in place without any care for the time nor any external sensations, and dusk would often break before your daydreams of drizzling rain and perfect blossoms covered in dew faded into meditative quietude.

Despite the passing time, and the slow crawl of the blaring moon across an arc in the sky, there had been a noticeable lack in progress in your spiritual endeavors. The only visible difference had been in how intensely you longed for something to change. 

.

. “I understand how you feel, young Omi.” You had overheard earlier that day. “The start of your journey may make the road ahead seem impossible to trek, but you must focus on the small steps your feet must take to move forward and nothing else.”

Somehow, it felt like those words had purposely found their way to you, as well. 

.

.

A heavy thick layering of deep swirling grey had covered the skies the morning before the first storm of the season. Without the warmth of the sun, frost had dusted over the courtyard marble, leaving it moist to the touch. The thunder had come not long after the first flash of lightning, and it reverberated over the many mountain peaks in a foreboding grumble. The crashing downpour came suddenly, ripping away any peace that came with meditating under the light trickle of rain. You’d already been soaked, and it would be no different whether you went in now versus later– the floor would take up puddles either way. So instead of seeking shelter, you stayed put in place, once again trying to sink back into a state of peace. The lightning flashing behind the darkness of closed eyes did little to deter you. .

.

[inthememetime]

The Company (+Gandalf, Dís, & Tauriel)- Do they have a Tumblr in a modern AU which I'll probably never write?

Dwalin- Like this? *holds out a tumbler style cup*

Balin- Yes, and he uses it to shitpost constantly. 'Your teeth are always wet.' 'On average, the number of human skeletons in a human body is more than 1.'- style posts. No one in his friend group knows, but some suspect since he's suspiciously up to date on memes.

Thorin- Yes, but he's only on like twice a week. A friend of his suggested he posts some of the tattoos he does, and he likes the validation. He also does watercolors for commissions. He was confused about why some of his regulars told him they were 'looking respectfully' until he was tagged in one of Bilbo’s livestreams where he came downstairs in nothing but a pair of boxers with mistletoe on the front. Somehow he always forgets what night Bilbo streams on despite the fact it's posted on their fridge.

Glóin- No, but I think Dwalin has one you can use. Oh. Is it that thing my lad Gimli is always on? You know, my son landed 1st place last week in his- wait. Where are you going??

Oín- The what now? How do you get on a mug? Like a painting thing? I think Thorin does those if you want one.

Dori- Yes, he's on a few times a week. He's very active in the embroidery and needlepoint circles. He doesn't have a lot of followers, but he's ok with that.

Nori- He's more of a Reddit guy. But sometimes he gets on and spams the porn bots with requests for free toasters or tacos for funsies. He also teaches people how to legally get away with breaking and entering, theft, and similar crimes as long as they promise to only use it on rich assholes.

Ori- Yes, he has 2 Tumblrs. One that's active in needlepoint, crochet, and calligraphy that Dori knows about, and the other is a fanart blog. His Zukka, Johnlock, and Destiel work gets a lot of reblogs. Hates Post+ with a passion.

Bifur- He likes plants, so he started looking them up and posting them online. Eventually, somebody on Reddit told him he should get a Tumblr and now he's known as the plant guy. He's very active, and talks about his disability sometimes which lost him a few followers but gained him a lot more. He's actually made a side gig out of it through Ko-Fi.

Bofur- Yes, and now it's a legitimate business model for him? He still can't figure out how that happened. All he did was post pictures and videos of his handmade toys, link his Etsy and tell people he did commissions, and he's actually had to hire people now to keep up with the workload. 90% of it is the toys. The other 10% is the internet swooning over the super nice goofball who has to stop streaming to shout 'kitty!' every time his cat walks in and forgets to edit it out.

Bombur- Not really. He has a Tumblr, sure, but he hasn't used it since 2015.

Fíli- Yes because he can talk to people about swords and knives and axes and not be considered weird. He's known as the Weapons Discourse Guy, don't tag him in anything else. Unless it has explosions. Yes he's seen the video of his uncle in nothing but the world's tiniest mistletoe boxers, please stop tagging him in it.

Kíli- He has the blog his brother, mother, and uncle all know about- the one where he talks about hunting, archery, prehistoric animals, and dream vacations. He has his main blog, which is full of writing prompts, fanfic he's writing, and an insane amount of reblogged fanart for Reasons.

Bilbo- He finally got on Tumblr to see what the lads were on about, and posts a lot of baking videos. He runs a sweet shop and he's found lots of people enjoy watching him make candies, cupcakes, and pies. He also accidentally made Thorin a little more popular because he lives above the shop and sometimes Thorin comes downstairs shirtless while he's filming. His views always spike when there's the Baking Trifecta- complicated candies, shirtless Thorin, and Thorin talking to him from the side. His viewers like Thorin's voice; Bilbo doesn't blame them.

Bonus:

Tauriel's blog is NSFW, but not for the reason you might think. She's a Forensic Pathology major, and some of the research papers and pics she reblogs are disturbing to say the least. Despite using (some would say over-using) trigger tags, she still gets a lot of anon hate. Despite that, there are a lot of people who actually like her blog, because they get to find a lot about what happens when they die and find it comforting. She's also exposed a lot of racism and classism in the death industry, and now she writes books on it.

Dís: Everyone thinks she doesn't, but she does. She's not very active, but takes the time to send Thorin pictures of stickbugs (he hates them) because any opportunity to troll him is one she'll take.

Gandalf: He doesn't know how he got onto this hellsite, but he's blaming Pippin. Pippin was maybe 3 at the time, but he'll still blame the kid. But now that he's here, he might as well devote some time to raising absolute HELL on TERFs, Karens and pedos.

[bluntforcefem]

ocs of your choice + 23?

23. in relief

“zachery!”

zachery makes an unintelligible noise as they sway, shaking petals out of their hair before their entire body veers to the side. duncan sprints across the field to catch them, toffee and vivi right on his heels.

they’re too warm in his arms, fingers still sluggishly tearing flowers from around their eyes, but they stop when toffee pulls at their wrists and starts to handle them herself. vivi gestures to itself and duncan laughs, a little unraveled, draping zachery across both their laps. keyes walks over, cecil’s body left unconscious behind them.

“are they okay?” their eyebrows furrow in worry as they detransform their arms from their half-scythe state, leaning down to examine toffee’s work. “they look—”

“’m fine,” zachery mumbles. they squint up at the group surrounding them, before turning their head to shove their face into vivi’s stomach, ignoring toffee’s sigh at the interruption of her work.

“you’re fine,” duncan echoes, excitedly, so relieved it hurts somewhere faint in his heart. “c’mere, man, let toffee and us take care of you, we’re doin’ a great job of it so far!”

vivi unceremoniously pushes their head away, its expression somewhere between amused and worried. “what he said, stickbug.”

“agh,” zachery says, but they don’t protest when toffee starts plucking petals from their hairline, or when duncan leans down—too full of nervous energy to wait, practically buzzing with it—and knocks his mouth into theirs. it’s a bad kiss, bad angle, but it makes them laugh, hoarse and breathless.

“my turn!” duncan leans back as toffee moves to kiss her weapon, smiling giddily against their mouth as she crushes a rose in her palm. “all gone,” she promises as she pulls away, “for good, this time.”

“for good.” zachery relaxes fully, melting as they close their eyes and take a deep breath. “okay. okay.”

keyes crouches down and takes their hand, squeezing it once. contact, not needed for them but for zachery, with all their clingy tendencies. “okay,” they affirm, and as if they were waiting for keyes’ word, zachery finally lets themself rest.

[doodledrawsthings]

How do you come up with ideas, both for the premises of and characters for AUs, and the dialogue you use in comics? I can sometimes come up with fun idea, but I've always struggled doing it with any kind of frequency, and I struggle with funny/functional dialogue all the time.

Idk... I kinda just.. have an idea and then go ham?? Like don’t worry about doing what you think other people will like or want to see, fill it with stuff you, personally, like and think is funny or cool. The frequency comes purely because I just like doing it. If you like what your doing it’ll be easier to come up with ideas for it. Don’t force it Though, that might burn you out. Let the ideas come and then go stupid crazy coming up with cool stuff for it

Now writing dialogue and stuff for comedy is... different. I’m no expert either so take my word with a grain of salt. Though that can be said with any kind of advice. In mostly going off my own experience. So to start,something that helps me is reading my dialogue out loud or trying to write/read it in my voice. It can help you tell whether or not your dialogue sounds natural.

Now for writing stuff that’s funny, well... Ngl comedy is hard to write. I find angst easier to write than comedy cuz with comedy, you aren’t always sure whether the jokes will hit or not. It’s easier to make people sad than to make people laugh XD. But it also kinda depends on personal taste I guess? Like watch a lot of TV and read comics and books and you’ll find you have a certain taste in comedy/ drama/ writing/ etc. And it helps you build a library in your head of references to pull from. For me, some of my biggest inspirations are Bojack Horseman and Gravity Falls. While a lot of people praise these shows for Well Written Drama or A Good Mysterious Story. they were also funny as hell. And I frequently look back on them for reference for both and often reference both in my own content. My personal taste in comedy kinda boils down to things like exaggerated reactions, awkward situations, and good comedic timing. I also love shows like parks and rec and the office which show funny exaggerated moments in mundane life. Another thing in comedy is playing with people’s expectations. Like- the stickbug meme even does this. Take the crows from Coffee Shop AU for example. They’re incredibly unnerving an mysterious, potentially dangerous even, but then you have em do things like huddling together over the shop counter and asking for BEANS, or they trip over their trench coat while they try to mysteriously walk away into the shadows, or they’re usually very synchronized and apathetic but suddenly one of them breaks the synchronization and bumps into the crow in front of them, causing the other crows to yell at them for messing up their flow (“GOD DAMMIT JERRY, NOT AGAIN”). Break peoples expectations. It’s why we find it funny when the Great And Powerful Snatcher gets all flustered about getting his non-existent butt kicked by a 12 year old. We set up our audience with expectations about certain characters and then pull the rug from under their feet.

[kanerallels]

HEHE UPDATE ON THAT STICKBUG THING.

So, that night I asked for your help—I threw a binder on it, pretty certain it was dead. WELL GUESS WHOS FLYING AROUND MY ROOM NEXT NIGHT.

THE BUG. So I lured it in the corner and threw a notebook on it. It’s dead now. WELL. Last night it was STILL ALIVE. HOW. I squashed it twice! Anyway, I lured it in and shut it in the closet. This morning, I checked on it. It was chilling on the shelf, so I squished it with a binder. NOPE. Still alive. So I am seriously considering cutting it in half with scissors when mom walks in and calmly takes it outside.

SHE DIDNT LET ME PUNISH THE THING. It’s alive. Against my will.

NO THAT'S AWFUL!!

Ugh, I HATE multi-leggers. Especially the ones that take SO LONG to kill like that, that always SUCKS.

And I'm sorry you didn't get to exact your vengeance properly-- it's my firm belief that if the bug is in your personal space, it has forfeited it's right to live, should you choose to act on that.

To make up for that injustice-- tell me about something that's been making you particularly happy lately!

[locallysourcedfriend]

The wanderer had been rattling and whining again at collymore, occasionally reaching down to nip at the lab coat and pointing at their hat before any other two legged being in the vicinity.

The first time she took the hat and tried to walk over to hand it to the folks the creature pointed at before being stopped by a hand about as big as herself got in the way queued by a polyphonic "No-".

Second time around was a drawing of misshapen buildings and a few stick people, one of them had a hat and a similar hair style to them. Leaf style?

"Ms. Romero went missing in the desert." she squinted back up at the wanderer, what the fuck was that supposed to mean? Oh. One of the reports before they got to the facility had that surname... Third and current time the beast overheard Kathryn and Tamilyn talking and learned what a car is. To an extent. It keeps calling it a rig.

"Please? I won't say anything and I can just sit in the back. Could say you were removing a diseased tree if people ask?" She blinked. It preferred sounds and playing charades over full sentences.

"I'll... Think about it." She wouldn't mind taking an early vacation but this'd need planning that she probably doesn't have the time for and have to borrow someone else's truck since her car's too small to fit the Yucca La..trans? Yucca concolor? God she doesn't think they even agreed on what to call these fucks yet. She's also got other cr- interrupted by loud rattling and a nip on the shoulder from the cryptid. This earns it a clipboard to the face.

"Teeth." the rattling stopped almost immediately and with a short whine it let go, an alternative was picked up- that being rattles and sort of dance that resembled a stickbug's defense, it'd be endearing if she didn't see it punt Deimos and start hissing at him immediately after just the other week when the dance was over- she backed up towards the exit and it started to whine again but it stopped the rattling and possible threat grooving. Sighing, pen and paper prepared she walked back to do the last few tests assigned for that day with an escape plan sitting on the back of her mind.

Im not done but the power's out in my neighborhood n im using the library's wifi to finish all my work so I won't be able to do part two until maybe the 17th if im lucky 😭

YOOOO THIS IS A GOOD START THOUGH. @itsflowers yo new collymore fic just dropped

[selanpike]

Abandoned Trollcops/Problem Sleuth fic

i’m bored so i’m posting this old trollcops concept i wrote a couple years ago

i meant to have it be this big sprawling thing, including all the trolls and the beta kids and team sleuth and the crew, but it was way too big for me, so all i ended up writing was the first three chapters--basically, the intros for sleuth, pickle and ace. 

i don’t plan to return to it. i still can’t get my head around the whole thing. but i like what i wrote, and maybe you might like it too? so here u go.

Chapter One

Spending any amount of time with Spades Slick is dangerous at best, you knew that. You also knew that you were making things worse by spending so much time with him, but you were counting on bruises and stab wounds, not this.

The interrogation room is sickeningly bright. The lights make it impossible to know what time it is outside. You know it was close to sunrise when they brought you in, but you’re not sure how long you’ve been here. Even the ticking of a clock would be a welcome reprieve from this boredom. You wish they’d just throw the book at you already.

The door finally opens, creaking a little as it does so. Apparently the Alternia Police Department can’t even afford a can of WD-40. Two officers walk in. You recognize them from your various interactions with the police in the past few years--Sergeants Terezi Pyrope and Sollux Captor. Sergeant Pyrope pulls up a chair and sits down at the table across from you, lacing her fingers together. You can’t read her expression through her opaque red glasses. You’ve heard that she’s blind, but she seems to stare right through you.

“Problem Thleuth.” Sergeant Captor reads from your file, standing behind his partner. “Thirty-five yearth old. Prothpitian. Failed out of polithe academy at age twenty-four. Ith that right?”

“I wouldn’t say failed,” you say, choosing your words carefully. “I jus’ didn’t like how y’all--I mean. I wasn’t a fan ‘f the bureaucracy.”

“Is that so,” Terezi says.

You nod.

“So you dropped out and became a private investigator,” she says. “Is that right?”

“You know the answer to that,” you say, rubbing your temples. “Don’t pretend like we’re strangers.”

The silence that breaks out is painful. You run a hand through your hair, quietly wondering if your hat is okay, wherever they’ve taken it. Why the hell did they take your hat? What sort of monsters would mess with a man’s hat? This sort of shit is why you could never cut it as a cop.

“You’re charged with being an accessory to arson,” Pyrope tells you. 

“Do me a favor ‘n arrest th’ guy who actually did th’ arson-ing,” you mutter.

“The alleged perpetrator is one Thpades Thlick,” Captor says, reading the file. “Damn, man. Thpades, really?”

“I ain’t an accessory t’ nothin’ that asshole does,” you say, slamming a hand on the table. “I was tryin’a stop that goddamn arson!”

“We have multiple witnethheth who thay they thaw you making out with the thuthpect before the fire broke out,” Captor says.

You wilt under their stares.

“I was tryin’a distract ‘im,” you say, weakly. “He’s a dangerous customer, after all. ‘S the ol’ honey pot maneuver, y’know?”

“It didn’t work,” Pyrope says, grinning her sharp-toothed grin. 

“N--no,” you admit.

Sergeant Captor hands Pyrope the file, and she makes a show of flipping through it. It’s a pointless gesture since you know damn well she can’t read it. You try to look at what’s written on the pages, but she pulls the file away so she can give it a good long sniff. You slump over, leaning your arms on the table, thinking about how fucked you are, and what you’re going to do to Slick to get back at him for this. They’ll put you away for ages for this, you just know it. The APD have never been fans of yours, and you’re sure they’ve been waiting for the opportunity to put you away. 

You jump when Pyrope snaps the folder shut. She puts it down on the table, sliding it to the edge.

“I’m going to admit,” she says, slowly. “That, considering your history of making trouble, we took this opportunity to get a warrant to search your office.”

“You--you what?!”

“Well, the thusthpect is thtill on the looth,” Captor explains, and you wonder if you punch him hard enough if he’ll stop with that goddamn lisp. “We had to check and thee if there were any clueth ath to hith whereaboutth.”

“And what did you find, huh?” You’re raging mad now, and you aren’t bothering to hide it. “A whole bunch of jack shit. Or are you going to charge me with possession of a deadly writing implement or something?”

The two of them stare at you for a moment, and then Pyrope pulls a photo from her jacket. She places it in front of you. It shows your evidence wall, a large corkboard you’ve set up in your office to collect clues in the murder you’re investigating.

“So, what? You gonna charge me with murderin’ th’ District Attorney now?”

Pyrope and Captor look at each other, then back at you.

“We’ve been investigating the DA���s death too,” Pyrope says. “But we haven’t turned up a thing.”

“And here you are,” Captor adds. “With evidenthe we never even thought to look for.”

You grin a little. “Oh darlin’s, are you jealous?”

“We know Kingpin was behind it,” Pyrope says, and her voice is uncharacteristically devoid of humor. “Like he’s behind every other high-profile murder in this city. I’m sick of him making a mockery of this force.”

“Stop bein’ such a joke, then.”

 She stands up, slamming her hands on the table. “Take this seriously!”

You raise your eyebrows and wait for her to get to the point.

“We’re willing to offer you a deal,” she says. “We’ll ignore this latest… indiscretion, and you’ll help us put Kingpin behind bars.”

You laugh.

You can’t believe they’re actually coming to you for help. How many times have they impeded your investigations? How many times have they told you to buzz off, leave this to the real cops? How many times have they told judges not to accept your evidence, or straight up confiscated your evidence and claimed they found it themselves? And now they want you to help them?

“Sorry, sorry,” you say, still chuckling. “I musta misheard. Y’ couldn’t possibly be askin’ for my help. I mean, I ain’t a cop or nothin’. I ain’t got no authority.”

“Don’t be a jackathh,” Captor snaps.

“This is in your best interest,” Pyrope says. “You are, after all, still under arrest.”

She does sorta have you, there.

---

You have your hat back when Sergeant Captor takes you outside, to the back of the department. The sun has definitely risen by now, and you’re treated to all the sounds of the city waking up.

“Thith whole thing ith completely off the record,” Captor tells you as he closes the door behind him. “Honethtly, I think it’th dumb ath hell, but at leatht if you get into trouble, nobody’ll blame uth.”

“As long as I don’t trail it back to you,” you add.

“Obviouthlly,” Captor says. He pulls out his phone and types into it. “But we need one of ourth with you. Making thure you’re not fucking up too bad.”

“I’d really prefer we skipped that part,” you say, fixing your hair and trying to find just that right angle at which to wear your hat. “I don’t need no cops following me everywhere. It’ll slow me down.”

“Think of it like exthtra security,” Captor says, still typing into his phone.

The door opens and a short troll walks over, hands shoved in his pockets. He isn’t wearing a uniform, save for a badge he has hanging on a lanyard over a ratty red hoodie. He approaches you and Captor, then squints at you.

“I know you,” he says.

“I get around,” you reply.

“You’re that drunk fucknut that’s always making a scene in Crew territory.”

“Guilty as charged. Y’all’re jus’ gettin’ me on ev’rythin’ t’day!” You nudge Captor. “Sorry officer, looks like y’ gotta charge me for another crime.”

Captor groans and rolls his eyes. He slaps the newcomer on the back and mutters, “Good fucking luck,” before heading back inside.

You wait for the door to click shut before you say, brightly as you can manage, “The name’s Problem Sleuth. Solicitations for my services are--”

“I’m sorry, do I look like someone who gives a fuck?”

You drop the friendly act. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Vantas,” He says. “Karkat Vantas. I’m the undercover guy. I figure I got stuck with this because they figured I could tell the Captain I’m investigating you.”

“‘N I’m sure she’ll buy it,” you add.

“Yeah.” He sniffs, and looks you over in more detail. “I don’t think I’m the only one they’re gonna hand you. I know for sure they said they’re putting my partner, Nepeta, on this case too.”

You rub your face. “Great. Good. More cops, beautiful.”

He asks for your phone, and you exchange numbers. You then tell him to find something else to do with his day, because you’re going home and going the fuck to bed. This investigation can wait until tomorrow. 

---

It’s well after 8am by the time you get home, and all you want to do is sleep for ten years. Pickle and Ace will bitch about you not being at the office, but you can’t bring yourself to care. They’re already going to bitch when they hear about this new arrangement, so what’s a little more?

Unfortunately when you walk in, you find Spades Slick rummaging through your refrigerator.

You toss your keys onto the table and sit down. He turns around, cold pizza hanging out of his mouth, and slams the fridge door shut behind him. 

“I figured they’d have ya’ in th’ slammer a few weeks,” he explains through a mouthful of pizza. “So y’ wouldn’t mind if I ate yer food ‘fore it went bad.”

“Y’ couldn’t possibly post bail for me?”

“Fuck no. Who do y’ think y’ are, my Crew?” He moves his mug of coffee from the counter to the kitchen table, and then sits down across from you. “So who’d y’ call. Th’ stickbug? Did ‘e hafta give up his booze fund for th’ month?”

“No, nothin’ like that,” you say, reaching over and taking the coffee. Obviously sleep isn’t happening anytime soon, so what the hell. “They let me off.”

There’s a loud clatter as Slick’s chair falls over, and a knife is at your throat. It always amazes you how fast he is. You raise your hands in a conciliatory manner as he snarls at you.

“You fuckin’ snitched, didn’t you?”

“Slick, my most precious of darlin’s,” you say. “I would snitch on you all day, ev’ry day. But that ain’t what happened.”

“Bullshit!” The knife presses harder against your neck, and you feel blood beading along the blade. “Th’ APD don’ jus’ let people go, ‘specially not when they been with me. Th’ fuck did you do?”

“They hired me.”

He looks at you like you just sprouted a second head. He doesn’t move the knife at all.

You go on. “They’re investigatin’ Kingpin. They wanted my help.”

He finally pulls the knife away, but he doesn’t sit back down. “Great. Jus’ what I need.”

“Yeah, Slick,” you say, sipping the coffee. You’re not surprised that it tastes like shit. Slick probably isn’t used to brewing his own. That’s what he has lackeys for. “It’s exactly what you need. You want Kingpin outta th’ way? Jus’ let me ‘n the cops handle it.”

“Kingpin’s mine,” he growls.

“‘Scuse you.” You put the mug down. “‘M sorry, but did you know th’ stiff we found last week? No. Fuck no, y’ didn’t, ‘cause he was th’ law, ‘n he was my fuckin’ friend, not yours. Kingpin’s mine. He owns this fuckin’ apartment, my fuckin’ office, he’s got me by th’ balls without even tryin’ ‘n he murdered th’ DA ‘n none’f that’s got anythin’ t’ do with you.”

Slick narrows his eye at you, before pocketing his knife and stealing the mug back. He chugs the coffee down. 

“Fuck you,” he says, slamming the mug back onto the table. “I’ll do it my fuckin’ self.”

“Right,” you say as Slick grabs his jacket and makes for the door. “So I guess I’ll see ya’ tomorrow, then?”

He grunts in response, and slams the door behind him as he leaves.

You know he’ll be back. Partly because you know he can’t resist making your life miserable--the two of you have been caught up in your fucked up little dance for too long, and he’s not about to give that up--but also partly because you know he can’t take down Kingpin on his own. He’s tried for months to do things his way, to just murder his rival crime boss, but Kingpin is careful, and he’s elusive. In the end, the best way to go about bringing him down is to turn the city against him, to get the law on your side. If you can get an arrest warrant on him you can have the whole of the city’s resources helping you track him down. You could freeze his assets, plaster his face on every bulletin board in town. You’ll leave him no place to hide.

You’re going to do it. Your name is Problem Sleuth, and you are going to bring down Mobster Kingpin’s criminal empire.

The APD are definitely going to steal the credit when it’s all said and done, though, and that fact makes you sick to your stomach.

Chapter Two

> Be Pickle Inspector.

You feel as though you’re being punished for Sleuth’s poor life choices.

Nepeta Leijon is a new hire at the APD. She, and her friend Karkat, used to be common criminals. Pickpockets, for the most part, although you remember seeing a few other items on their rap sheet. You’d encountered them once or twice. Never up close--their crimes were never complicated enough to necessitate your intervention--but they’d show up sometimes as witnesses.

Uncooperative witnesses.

You were aware of their being hired. Something about the APD seeing them as valuable assets for undercover investigations. You see the logic, but you’ve never been a fan of undercover operations. You stand out too much. You’re too tall, too gaunt, too recognizable. Your preferred method has always been surveillance. You set up cameras and wiretaps all over the city, in all the seedier bars and meeting spaces. Nothing escapes your omniscient ogle.

Nothing except Kingpin. He’s careful. He doesn’t discuss anything important on the phone, least of all the phones in any of his businesses. You can’t figure out where he lives or where he holds any of his most secret of meetings. Even if you could, he always has too many guards patrolling his places, making it impossible for you to sneak in and plant anything.

It was infuriating before, but now with the death of the DA it’s got you on the end of your rope. And now they want you to babysit this rookie cop? How the hell are you supposed to get anything done?

You asked Sleuth what he did to invite this upon you, but he won’t tell you. You suspect Slick was involved. Slick is always involved these days. 

You have a solution to this problem, though. Well, not to the Sleuth-Slick problem, there’s no solving that, but the Nepeta problem was easy: let her work on transcribing your recordings so the two of you can finish them twice as fast. It leaves you with just enough free time to make tea and doodle in the margins of your notes. 

You’re halfway through a wonderful drawing of a horse wearing a bonnet when your phone rings. You have specific ringtones for every person who calls you often enough, and you put your head in your hands when you hear this one. Nepeta notices, and watches you as you sigh and answer the phone.

“I’m busy enough,” you whine into the receiver.

“That’s a shame,” says the smooth, dark voice of Diamonds Droog. “And here I had something I thought you’d be interested in.”

“What is it?” you ask.

“Meet me on the corner of 34th and Feldings,” he says.

“D--do I have to?” you say, clicking your pen. “Can’t you just, just tell me? On the phone? Like a normal person? I p-promise the line’s secure.”

“34th and Feldings,” he says again. “Now.”

He hangs up. You put your phone down, put your head on your desk, and groan loudly. Why is this your life? All you wanted to do today was transcribe audio logs and not interact with anybody. You even packed a lunch so you wouldn’t have to go out and talk to any fast food workers. 

Without your realizing it, Nepeta has picked up your phone and unlocked it. You make a mental note to change the passkey and not let her see you input it next time. “Diamonds Dickhead?” She makes an exaggeratedly surprised face, and puts your phone back on the desk. “Is that who I think it is?”

You stand up and fix your tie. “I have to go out.”

“Oh! Let me get my coat.”

“No.” You grab your own coat, put it on, and start buttoning it. You make a deliberate effort to put the buttons in the right holes, and you’re secretly glad you haven’t had much to drink yet today. “S--stay here and, and keep transcribing.”

“I’m paws-itively sure that’s super important,” she says, putting extra emphasis on her pun. You’ve noticed that she likes cat puns. In less infuriating circumstances, you’d think it was cute. “But I’m not here to help you so much as to watch you.”

You smooth your hair out and put your hat on. “That’s a terrible idea. N-no, you should just stay here, and not tell a soul I went out. U--unless I don’t come back. Then tell Sleuth. Understood?”

She grins a catlike grin and says, “Nope!”

Droog is never going to let you hear the end of this.

---

34th street is where his tailor is, so Diamonds Droog didn’t have to go out of his way to meet you. It is also clear on the other side of town relative to your office, so you had to go especially out of your way to meet him.

This is par for the course, and you make an effort not to look exhausted when you get there.

He’s waiting for you on a street bench outside his tailor’s, smoking one of his expensive cigarettes. You approach him, but don’t look at him directly. You stand behind the bench, facing away from him, pretending to read a bulletin board. Nepeta follows along, but she sneaks a few glances at Droog when she thinks you aren’t looking.

He breathes out a long puff of smoke before speaking. “Is the detective business so bad that you had to take up babysitting?”

“I n--needed the second job to, to support my tea habit,” you respond.

“That’s a funny way to say whiskey.”

“Oh, no. I steal that all from m-my boss. You see, he has a wealthy patron with a vested interest in, in keeping him too drunk to make good decisions.” You lean back onto the bench, crossing your arms. “I’m s-sure you don’t know anything about that.”

“I’m sure I don’t. Can she leave?”

“I don’t know.” You look down at Nepeta. “C-can you leave?”

“I can, yeah,” she says.

“A--are you going to?”

She shakes her head.

“Sorry,” you say to Droog. “It’s a, a long story.”

He pauses and takes another drag from his cigarette. He taps some ash out on the ground, then reaches into his jacket pocket. You have just enough time to hope that he isn’t pulling out a weapon with which to kill the witness you’ve brought along, before he pulls out a couple of photographs. He passes them to you. They all depict various old-looking artifacts. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen some of these in the museum.

“All of these have gone missing in the past month,” Droog explains. “Obvious signs of a break-in, but no evidence pointing to a culprit.”

“D--do you think Kingpin was involved?”

“Absolutely.”

You scrutinize the photos further, and notice that all the artifacts share a theme. Every one of them either depicts a horrorterror, or symbols associated with said terrors. “This, um. It looks like your sort of thing.”

“Hardly,” he says. “The four of us get our magic from the Terrors, but we don’t need trinkets like this to channel Their powers. They give it to us freely.” He illustrates this by producing a small purple flame in his hand. “Kingpin, though. He’s Prospitian, like you. He doesn’t have the connection to the Terrors that we Dersites have.”

You think about that as you pocket the photos. “Do you think he’s trying to make a pact with the Terrors?”

“Perhaps,” he says, extinguishing the flame. “It’s possible he’s seen what we can do and wants that power for himself. I doubt he’ll be successful.”

You wonder whether it would be possible for a Prospitian to make a pact with the dark gods. You’re almost tempted to let Kingpin try, just to get an answer. It’s not your best idea. If nothing else, these robberies give you one more thread you can follow in your attempts to get any charge at all to stick to him.

“I’ll look into this,” you tell him. “Call me if--if you hear anything.”

“As usual,” he says, before standing up.

He smooths out his suit, throws his cigarette to the ground and snubs it out with his heel. Without once looking at you, he strolls away. Nepeta waits until he’s out of earshot before she says, “You know, Mister Detective, you don’t act much like a detective.”

“H--how’s that?”

“All the wiretapping, and purr-tive meetings with shady guys,” she says. “You’re more like a spy.”

You let out a small laugh. “Don’t say that one to the others. They’ll start coming up with spy names for me.”

“Pickle Inspector’s okay for a spy name,” she says. You start walking, and she follows you. She has to trot a little to match your walking stride. “Spies don’t put ‘spy’ right in the name! It’s too conspicuous.”

You’re enjoying this flight of fancy, despite yourself. “I’ll need to imagine up some clever gadgets, to uh, to get me out of pinches.”

“And you’ll need a car,” she says. “A fancy one, that turns into a submeowrine.”

“And a, a dangerous love interest,” you add.

“Oh? You don’t have that already?” She grins up at you. “You and Diamonds Dickhead had an awful lot of chemistry. You aren’t caliginous?”

“What?” You shove your hands in your pockets and look towards the street. “No. Obviously not. Th-th-that’s just, just gross, ew.”

She giggles, and you don’t like the knowing look she gives you. You reach into your jacket, produce a flask, and take a long gulp. It doesn’t help your mood any. It just reminds you of the last time Droog caught you drinking in the middle of the day, and had the audacity to call you “pathetic”, as if lots of people don’t drink before noon on a weekday.

She’s still giving you that look. Fuck.

“A--anyway, the, the case,” you stutter, trying to get back on the subject of work.

“I know somebody,” she says. “That might help.”

“Who?”

She shrugs. “Old friend of mine. She knows all sorts of things about old stuff like what got stolen.”

“That would be, it���d be really useful,” you say.

“I’ll call her when she gets off work,” Nepeta says, adjusting her hat. “In the meantime we can get back to listening to your wiretaps. The part I was on was pretty juicy.”

You’re relieved she’s so easily given up the subject of Droog and gotten back to the task at hand. She might, despite your initial misgivings, be useful to have around.

“I’ve also started a shipping chart for everyone you’re surveilling,” she adds.

After she explains to you what a shipping chart is, you are simultaneously horrified, and intrigued at the new avenues this gives you when cataloguing and interpreting your data.

Chapter three.

> Be Ace Dick.

Once upon a time, you were a police detective. You like to give Sleuth shit over his lack of occupational experience, but he seems to think that his two weeks of police academy are all he could need. For someone who brags about his charisma, he really doesn’t understand the importance of making connections.

You haven’t been working on the Kingpin case with Sleuth and Pickles. You think they’re out of their league. Kingpin’s ruled this city since Sleuth and Pickles were still in grade school, they didn’t stand a chance. So while they ran around on their fool’s errand, you were out hitting the pavement, solving more sensible cases and keeping the agency afloat. Sergeant Pyrope was a rookie when you left the force, but she remembers you. Whenever you have a case that requires some APD know-how, you hit her up. There’s a little diner next door to the station that’s popular with the coppers, and that’s where she meets you to give you the low-down on some two-bit drug dealer who skipped out on a debt.

You buy her a second coffee once she’s said her piece and you’ve finished writing it all down. Then you tuck your notepad back into your coat pocket and say, “So I heard y’ gave Sleuth a job.”

She shrugs, grinning. “It should be worth a laugh. He always says he can do better than us, so let’s see it!”

You shake your head. “Here ‘m always tryin’ to tell him to stay off that case, and you’re just eggin’ him on.”

“So you’re not going to help?” she asks, before taking a sip of coffee.

“Hell no,” you say. “I quit the force to get away from that malarkey. You at least payin’ him?”

She laughs. “Do you think he’s going to ask?”

“He damn well will, because I’m goin’ to tell him to,” you say, jabbing a finger at her. She can’t see the gesture but she usually can tell that you’re doing one. You’re not sure if she hears the movement or somehow smells it. You don’t know how her weird sense of smell works. “We got rent to pay, missy. If he’s runnin’ around chasin’ Kingpin he isn’t doing other cases.”

“We’ll have to set up a collection,” she says. “I’ll put a little can in the break room. ‘Pay Mister Candy Corn’s rent’.”

Detective Vriska Serket walks over, whacking your hat off your head as she passes you to sit next to Terezi. “Can’t be too much, right? Doesn’t he live in a cardboard box?”

“That sounds right,” Terezi says. “But in this city that’s what, 500 bucks a month?”

“Depends on how new the box is, probably,” Vriska responds.

Terezi nods. “Either way, Kingpin owns it so it is absolutely drafty and leaks in the rain.”

“I’m not opposed to makin’ jabs at my dumbass not-boss,” you say as you straighten your hat out. “But I’m serious. You’re payin’ him. And Pickles too, if you got him involved.”

“We do,” Terezi says. “He’s got poor Nepeta bored to tears.”

“That’s a lie,” Vriska says, taking Terezi’s coffee and putting it in front of herself. “She started writing fanfiction about those counterfeiters on seventieth street. I’m going to try and convince her to submit it as evidence.”

“While that is hilarious, don’t. The Captain doesn’t need to know about any of this.” Terezi takes her coffee back and chugs down the remainder before Vriska can make another attempt. She coughs. 

“Now there’s an idea,” you say. “If you don’t pay up, I’ll go let Captain Peixes know what you’ve been up to.”

“Why Ace,” Terezi says, leaning forward. “Are you threatening me?”

“Might be.”

“Maybe if the Captain finds out she’ll get embarrassed enough to put me on the case,” Vriska says.

“Gettin’ tired of solvin’ murders?” you ask.

She throws her arms up in the air. “The only interesting crimes are the mob ones! All the regular crimes are just dumb shit, there’s usually a witness or a camera or something, there’s no challenge!”

“I thought you liked racking up wins,” Terezi said.

“I fucking love racking up wins,” Vriska says. “But I want ones worth my time. Kingpin’s the biggest baddie there is, I gotta get in on that.”

“Maybe you should let her follow Sleuth instead of that angry kid,” you say to Terezi.

She snickers. “No, I’d give her to Tootsie Roll Frankenstein.”

Vriska slaps the table. “You think you’re kidding around but I’d love having that guy work for me! He’ll do all the tedious boring shit so I have more time to pound pavement and beat in faces.”

“I’m glad you appreciate Pickles’ special sort of appeal.” You stand up, straightening out your suit. “Thanks for the tip, Pyrope. Now please stop takin’ advantage of my teammates.”

She salutes at you, and it’s dripping with irony. “No, I don’t think I will. You’re welcome to come get taken advantage of, though!”

“Fat chance,” you scoff, getting out your wallet. You pull out a few bills, enough to pay for your coffee and Terezi’s, and drop them on the table. “Take care of yourselves, ladies.”

“Tell Sleuth if he gets evicted I just got a washing machine and he might fit in the box if he gets on all fours!” Vriska calls as you leave the diner. You hear the two girls snickering behind you.

They laugh, but you know the APD’s pay is shit. You do much better for yourself working as a private dick. The lack of benefits are a kick in the nuts, but at least you don’t have to deal with all the paperwork and politics, and every now and then you got a client who paid you a ridiculous sum for some dumbass thing. Sleuth could do as well as you. He’s certainly got the sleuthing skills for it. He just keeps wasting his time worrying too much about justice and too little about the real world.

You figure he’ll learn eventually. Kids like him always do.

[sztefa001]

OMG YOU POSTED IT FUCK YEAH :D!!

Lemme copy paste my ideas from discord:

I'm imagining like… a whole youtube playlist with just that. There are clips of humans approaching various tfs, sometimes randomly as they meet them, sometimes it's visibly set up like they're on a couch with the purpose of playing the game. Examples:

The autobot side is rather tame and they mostly play nice, if you stumble upon OP and ask him about a creature he'd pause… say sth along the lines of "Uhhh an interesting living creature worthy of respect." "You have no idea, do you?" "No, not in the slightest. What is it? Why... is it maned like that? Really? That's amazing! Incredible creature!"

A few autobots are sat on a couch and take guesses what the animal is and how is it called, they have a whole ass game and the winner gets a pizza.

Someone walks up to Ratchet who tries to shoo them 'cuz he's busy but it's supposed to be quick so he takes a look. he gets it somewhat right but when given the real name rolls his eyes saying "not gonna fall for it" and goes back to work. The info was true.

Someone makes a 2 real 1 fake or (2 fake one real) with another group. Everyone bets a platypus is an obvious decoy. Someone (idk maybe Arcee) says it's looking too fake to actually be fake and wins the round.

Someone approaching Shockers in his lab and asking him to identify an animal, no cheating. He takes a very good educated guess and is told that yeah, he's right, that is in fact a coral-imitating fish. But it's common name is actually a seahorse. "Horse? Illogical."

Seeker trine chilling together on a couch and guessing together. Chaos ensues. Warp yeets the stupidest ideas and what pisses Star off the most is that he has the same chance of getting it right with his own educated guesses. TC is just confused but good with guessing dogs. Warp probably calls everything a dog 'cuz this way he's bound to get it right sooner or later. At some point Star flips the table.

"Ok and what's that" "OH I SAW THAT ONE BEFORE IT'S A GIUENA PIG AND IT'S NOT A PIG IT'S A RODENT!!" "Well, you're right about one of those things, it is indeed not a pig. But it's not a guiena pig, it's a miniature yorkshire terrier which is a dog." "WHAT"

Guess the creature or true/false but it's ocean edition. Probably the craziest. Weird deep sea horrors. Cute sea slugs. No one believes the ping pong tree songe is a thing. Bumblebee guesses the association with the ping pong. And maybe Warp. They don't take it seriously so ofc they have higher chances of guessing right xD

For the ocean edition Shock gives a very accurate classification of stuningly similar creatures he saw on other planets.

Masters of camo edition. Is this leaf/stick/flower/rock/coral actually alive? Time to see if they can spot an octopus or a stickbug or a mantis or whatever on a picture!

So many possibilities and so much chaos xD

The Autobots and Decepticons play "Guess the animal" and the humans have a great time

Silly idea, but like imagine how weirded out the armies would be just looking at all the animals that exist on earth. From common animals like cats and dogs to the weirder ones like Pika and Tibetan Fox

To help them get used to animals on Earth, the humans decide to play "Guess the animal" to help them get used to it

What happens is the most chaotic learning time

First off, the two armies learn that there is WAY more animals classified under "Dog"

Human: (Showing pictures of a Samoyed and a Corgi) "Alright which one is the dog?"

Megatron: "That's easy! Neither!"

Human: "No, they're both dogs."

Megatron: "What."

Next they show a Tibetan Mastiff and well...

Optimus: "This can't be a dog, it has to be a bear with all those markings and size."

Human: "Actually, this is a dog!"

Optimus: "I'm sorry what, they get that big?"

Next the humans show a Chihuahua and none of the mechs don't know what to say.

Ironhide: "Is this a giant possum?"

Skywarp: "It has to be a squirrel that lost its fur!"

Blaster: "I say it's a rabbit."

Human: "It's a dog."

Cue the mechs trying to comprehend how does a Chihuahua, Samoyed, Corgi, and Tibetan Mistaff fall under "Dog"

Next thing you know, humans decide to throw in "Guess what does the animal eat"? into the mix

Human: "Okay, true or false. Killer Whale eats Moose"

Starscream: "This is a joke, it's in the water how can it eat something on land! So false"

Humans: "Wrong, it's true"

Starscream: "HOW, IT'S ON LAND?"

Human: "Moose swim and sometimes get eaten by Killer Whales"

None of the armies don't know what to say at this point, and it keeps going. Examples but not limited to,

Starscream and the fliers reacting to a Sugar Glider.

Starscream: "This thing isn't real, this is just a napkin with eyes that someone made for an art project"

Human: (Holds one up) "It's real!" :D

Starscream: "You've got to be kidding me."

Skywarp: "IT LIVES!"

Next is showing a guinea pig to the mechs.

Megatron: "Okay, and this furry potato?"

Optimus: "How should I know, it's just hair."

Humans: "Times up, it's a guinea pig."

Optimus: "How's that a pig?!"

Human: "Well, it's not actually a pig, it's a rodent."

Megatron: (Flips table) "Who the frag is naming these animals?!"

I can see the humans putting this on YouTube for the world to see the mechs struggling to comprehend animals.

They showed them a platypus, and the video is just them trying to figure out if its real or not, some are even phoning the smartest mechs they know to help, and Shockwave hasn't been okay after being sent the image and is currently 404-ing

[c-mon-babayyy]

Space streamer, part 2, slowly loosing my will to write

Synter was a good little space escapee. He listened to the big man on the big speakers, found the computer, hijacked it, erased the AI and firewall. He allowed the big man on the speakers to download many of things onto this computer, and pre- programed the fabricator to build the things he needed for the chemical water maker and extra computer hardware. The Xeno hardware wasn't too far ahead of earth's, but the electrical storage was way ahead. Synter had patiently pulled up the programs that kept track of his oxygen levels stored and electric battery capacity filled and how the waste programs works, all on the too low for the xeno's but too tall for him built in monitor.

He waited patiently and listened in as the alien code got turned into human code from the AI that installed itself from the outside, and as the rest of the ship prepared to deploy. Something went wrong out there. Despite being one of the first set of human cat food to escape, the yelling indicated that their ship was one of the last to deploy the Escape pods and Warehouse pods that acted like Escape pods. An announcement from the AI that downloaded herself, as her pronouns are she her, Xill, came that sometime during the escaping process, another alien race came to interfere with the researcher alien race that captured them. In the process, the alien race started shooting down some Escape pods, capturing most of them, and boarding the ships specifically for the researchers.

Luckily the Escape pods the Xeno's all shut down were filled with the researcher aliens, but as every ship was starting to set off their human passengers, a huge chunk was now finding that they had to fight the new Sentient species. Some humans like his ship fought the Xeno's as they entered the ship, taking over the new ship before launching off. Others weren't so lucky, as the offending Race stuck to shooting the entire researcher ship down, and that escapees were shot in any direction to avoid the ship lethal weapons.

His escape pod was now going in a straight line parallel to earth, but not to it. But the shock of waking up being walked to a glass cell on an alien vessel was still running in his veins, and the shock from the announcement short circuited his brain even further. His mind stuck on how he was a good escapee, building all the necessary machines to live for as long as possible.

End of day 0 log, traveling in space.

...

When things shock Erin Terry Acevedo, otherwise known as Synter, he usually just shuts down. If it's more of a scare than a shock, then he would come down crying, but he hadn't been scared and he didn't have a bed to let the tears flow. So the shock of realizing you've been abducted by aliens, escaped, and left all the people behind to have his own space box that now hurdles in a direction not exactly earth, Synter locked up for a while.

By Xill's logs it took 7 computer calculated earth days of Synter waking up and allowing Xill to rule his day when he finally curled up in the empty back seat of his truck and cried. It had become empty when Xill instructed the robotic Synter to pull out everything he had to record. And by coincidence standard he had everything for survival. By coincidence Synter had gotten his washer machine broken, and the day he drove to the city for his pre-ordered supply and mail run he had stopped by a laundry parlor early in the morning to clean his entire wardrobe of clothes. Because he was doing clothes, he had a bag of laundry essentials, a bottle and a half of laundry detergent laundry softener and dryer sheets.

Being alaska, he had an extra gallon or so of gas in his truck, along with a wilderness survival kit thrown in his passengers seat that his father pushed onto him. Seeing as it was a supply run he had clothes and toiletries for every part of the house, stocked for a year sine even when his weight is below average for his size he can blow through in 6 months. Xill calculated that by possibility it would be well under 5 before they came across a planet who's orbit they could inhabit. By coincidence Synter had splurged on seeds of many kinds, 8 bags of dirt he had the store workers pile onto the bed of his truck, and sunlight plants that were sure to be in the boxes or bags of mail he got from the run.

Synter is a Streamer and YouTuber, he has fans that sent him letters and gifts, even to his year long home in Alaska. Synter was a programming expert and computer building expert, he could build any machine he wanted. For a few videos he even did build a few machines, but at his core he was a wimpy 5ft2 hazel Brown haired grey-Brown eyed 21 yr old man that escaped hard times by streaming videogames to people on the internet. He was not a space scientist or expert of any sort.

Hearing Synter's muffled hiccups as he softly cried made the copy of Xill that stayed on the ship remember the human emotion of overwhelming expectations and sudden sadness. His slight praise kink wasn't gonna save him from this tragedy.

...

Day 42 of AI Xill's computer timed logs.

Some boxes of whatever had been stored near the computer and fabricator had been successfully organized for Xill to keep track of. With it came the placement of every machine needed to keep maintenance on every aspect of life for Synter, and the farms he's build. They're wall farms, far more effective than farming on the floor, but even then they need care. The hover panelling needs maintenance and the lights need controlling, although most controlling is by Xill. With Xill keeping track of all the trackable things, Synter started exploring the ship to see what he could do. Turns out, behind a large wall of boxes was a gift either Richard or fate left him, his own air proof air lock.

With it Synter could upgrade the outside of his ship with the many metal scrapes he has. His warehouse has enough metal to make 3 large ships bigger than his square cube. So, taking advantage of it, Synter and Xill designed a human based space craft that he could build onto the outside of his home until its fully complete and he could move in. So, he did that, spending a few weeks building the outside as Xill slowly planned the details. Building proper engines would be close to impossible and not efficient with the too small 4 ft tall fabricator, but building frames and piecing them together on the outside of the non spinning box of 0g's.

During the building of the frames, something that was finished just by this date, Xill had gotten the idea of setting up large Xeno based receptors to collect news from earth as a member of earth. The news that she collected was that of war. It saddened Synter to know that some of the escaping humans didn't make it, under 300 of them shot from free space and the rest from fighting the mystery offending Xeno's that decided to interfere. It turns out the stickbug race directly translated was called Aquamarine, but seeing as that was a color and didn't describe them they were renamed PhasmaSapiens. They were tricked, by an almost equally tall yet chubbier grey-yellow race with large smooth heads and 3 fingers + looong thumb, and were told that despite being deathworlders the humans were the squishiest and weakest of the tough world, even weak enough to be pushed around and experimented on.

This strangely familiar grey race was called Wrinakticcka, and they were far away from the sol system. A third race, the Space faring species Synter never saw that sent a military envoy to kill, was sent to kill the researchers and re-abduct the humans to be guarded, killing any that resisted. Seeing as the shock of being abducted the first time and now knowing they were way stronger biologically, almost all of them were "resisting", hence the yelling voices as these new Xenos shot on sight.

The new race, Deemed Trutarin, was a low yet strong military force, and allied with races that thinked. So when humans declared a rule of old galactic law ordering the heads that ordered the abduction and killing of their citizens. They also declared hostility until a majority of the humans abducted were returned. With the Trutarins disrupting Richard's, the guy on the speaker, team's work, a whole bunch of humans were scattered in any direction except outside the galaxy. The AI thankfully managed to point everyone in a direction that would reach a planet or space colony. Luckily Synter's situation was the same, but there was a small error.

Among all of the wrong calculations, Xill of the hijacked PhasmaSapiens mega research cruiser, he was meant to be shot towards a relatively newer colony only 7 months away at ftl speeds. However, with Xill being attacked by anti-AI tactics and calculating another thousand things while acting on a thousand actions, she had mistakenly not thrown his cargo box at FtL speeds, not even Equal to light speeds. They were under faster than light speeds, and although that didn't change how his inside gravity wells worked or how his magnetic boots clung to his craft without air or gravity resistance. It did, however, slow his estimated time to 5 years, and while he could do that their box was flung slightly off course, more towards earth.

The news depressed Synter as he curled up in the back seat of his truck, playing tetris.

...

Day 104 of AI Xill's counted days log.

A report, as it has been stated and corrected from Synter's memory of grammar.

Synter's weight has decreased the calculable amount, compared to how strange his new life has become compared to his life on earth. He had eaten all of his snacks, moving onto real meals as he works on the ship. Fill calculated that because of bow dense space is, until solar panels get set up properly the ship would need to conserve energy. The plants would get the minimal cut of energy, alongside the "life making machines", but lights and dimness on computers were downed. Synter's work increased, and he started wearing less clothes under his void suit, revealing his thin frame.

Xill may relearn guilt and regret at the non- willingness to recharge Synter's phones in turn for saving power. Yet over time his view on his situation has improved. He was sad about missing the anniversary of his 100th earth calculated days in space, however seeing as until the 103rd day he was still acting robotic even if he was responding with emotions, all Xill could do was apologize. Despite Xill's attempts at making Synter's schedule not overexert his body, he continued meticulously welding the frames of the ship together. Soon enough Synter was able to build the outer walls with the thicker yet smaller panels.

It appears Synter is less interested in talking about his future of returning home than he is living in space. How destructive this newly formed tendency will become.

...

Day 124 of Xill's computer counted reports.

After meticulously fusing the outer panels of the large ship, large comparative to Synter's human height, the ship is completed. Vented atmosphere is slowly being released into the new ship, and weak spots are being immediately eliminated from the outside. It was difficult and meticulous, and at one point flying space debris the size of a pebble broke some panelling off. Yet because it was close to complete success, Synter's mood about his work has gotten better.

Synter's mood had improved overall, and he's requested conversation through the speaker system within the warehouse. His destructive quality of working long hours was calculated to be aligned with bad memories. However, after discovering that he could play music through his truck, his dreams changed. Along with this as a correlation his positive mood grew, and he started taking breaks to help Xill design the inside and outside of the ship.

They not only need solar panels to collect energy as a basis, but also a fabricator, more computer servers, a small chemical reactor, and many high tech servers for Xill to function. Preferably in that order. Synter was informed that with the computer upgrade she can control the ship faster and easier, and also possibly control robots to help around the ship. The helicopter and small space cruiser would become a good base for various projects, and an essential model for if they ever reached a planet on their own. The tesla was also useful, it served as a reminder of several evolutions higher quality batteries needed for quite literally everything onboard. If not batteries than a constant source of power.

Of course this was only plausible after he had finished building the outer ship. It would be the first ship built out in the cold traveling at high speeds, and if not the first then a record for the fastest the base is moving, although it is indeed the first in human history. Xill has recorded Synter's frustration on not being able to upload things from his phone to the computer, and vise versa on downloading things from the pulled galactic and terran web. Xill informed and assured Synter that once he was able to build abler servers and data storages and processors that she will be able to do all that, and even write code so that he could do it on his own.

This made Synter surprisingly happy, and his mumbles on "100 day space challenge depressing addition" was recorded in silent.

...

Day 180 on Xill's computer counted logs, a Report.

Promises that Xill did not know were promises made were certainly kept. After filling out the holes, not that there were holes but more like weak points, the outer ship became suitable to move into. Intensive installing of walls and lights seemed slow, but it made sorting rooms and rooms with vital machines easy. Synter's weight although lighter than prescribed has become stable again, and his mood has gotten brighter other than being the same as when he became talkative again. This leads Xill to speculate that this is Synter's personality even back on earth, although the stress of being in space does "hit home" whenever he tries to sleep.

This insomnia re-taught Xill the human emotion of disliking and concern, although doing so nearly maxed her data banks. Luckily, Synter worked just in time to create the chemical energy factory and the many computer types, sitting and waiting for Xill to move in. One wall between the designated kitchen and living room, the walls covered in screens that Xill and Synter can control. The past months were spent moving things around, linking internal wires with the new 2nd layer internal wires. Giving the machines for life more space around them as boxes were moved out or crushed for furniture usage or fuel.

Things have become almost homey for even a human of large capacity, 6 ft 10 at least, but even still it is empty. However, despite the empty feeling Synter noted on, once videogames were set up his feelings on his new environment disappeared, as he spent 2 entire days playing an older version of Minecraft that was easy to download through electronic signals. He built a house and tamed a dog, and then Xill expressed great concern that he was not sleeping.

On a bigger note, Synter pulled out and looked through many of his fan mail that he had avoided since day 3 when he found that he had it. According to him it was filled with heartfelt messages and many physical gifts, like extra clothes and the odd gift. It reminded him about cleaning the clothes he hadn't cleaned, and as soon as he told Xill she got to work redesigning the washing machines and building showers so he could feel clean. Being clean is very important. There was only one piece of mail that was not so positive, and a completely different postal box that help a miniature vibration machine.

Synter blushed at the item and threw it in an empty box, claiming that he would not be using it.

...

Day 275 on Xill's computer timed logs, a Report.

With expanding the productivity of the ship in all regards came the uptick in productivity of the many plants on the vertical farms. By now mode food preserved for long times in the cabinet or modern freezer Synter bought at the time of his abduction had run out, not a single gram left spoiled before consumption. The meat was preserved before eating, the fruits were eaten quickly, and any heartburn from overly greasy foods made too greasy from human error were delt with through fabricated medicines.

Because the gravity well was extended and the chemical power generator/solar an energy collector became smooth runners, the whole ship has the luxury of upgrading to human acceptable lighting. This is even more pleasing to Synter when this meant replacing the dimly lit alien lights for highly effective human LED lights. As soon as the inside was made comfortable enough for living in easy access and cameras along other sensory processors fitted to the outside and inside of the new ship, Xill left Synter free to start doing things he wanted to do.

Compiling the stored data on Synter's body cam from his void suit was the first thing Synter did. Naming everything "big" on board became his second task. The warehouse cargo container his space of living use to be limited to was named Big boy Kermit, the new outer shell and ship as a whole was named Warlock Necesthia. The machines all got human names, and the antennas satellite names. After the naming spree, he became dedicated to filling the space in his private area.

His days became filled with replacing all he had on earth with upgrades on the ship, downloading data on his past life on earth. Thanks to Xill hacking, Synter was able to find out that his friends believe him missing, and his father having joined the American space army to hopefully return him home. But it was only Synter's closest of friends that were reportedly told of his disappearance via abduction, and all of his closer friends were scattered across the North american continent. Not to mention his wider connection of friends being scattered across the English speaking world.

His savings have added up, and with his being paid to live in alaska his house, by the cameras installed in them, had become warm and dusty, perfect for a family of cats to start on his front porch. His front door lock reported an error, and be deduction Xill predicted that the front door was broken and frozen closed. The colder season had long since started, so even in alaska there would be a very below 1% chance of burglary. Synter ordered for his mail to be collected, an already large collection of fan mail wishing to know where he disappeared to as his fan base rose to a full mill in his absence. His home computers would've already posted any videos he had saved up, and fans were starting to post conspiracy theories.

Yet, despite learning of the consequences of his life back on earth, Synter admitted to having contradictory feelings about wanting to go back home. The contradicting feeling was that Synter didn't want to return to his home on earth. If not at least not ever then at the very least not anytime soon. By calculations it's been near 9 months since being thrown into space, and although Synter started a concerning habit of talking to himself, a habit Xill noted he didn't have while living by himself in alaska, Synter has proposed many reasons for living in space.

The first reason being he was just to use to the overly modern comfort in space compared to the still slowly developing earth cities. His waste could be remade into nutrients for plants, the electricity running in the walls and computers were efficient, powering down when he stared away from the screen to think, only to power up when his head snapped back for total concentration. Plus, among other things in his physical space there was less use of ads! Videogames and video development proved to be important for him, as Xill found out while watching Synter edit down the heavy amounts of footage for his "100 day challenge".

So back to his conflicted goals, earth and it's culture was nice but living on it was kind of a pain. He wanted to reassure his father that he was doing alright, and maybe even reconnect with his fans back down on the ground, but stepping foot on some grass was not his top priority. Before Synter could have a breakdown, Xill reminded him that even if he wanted to meet his homeworld again, it would be over a year flat before they would reach a comprehensible civilization, and months before the engines harvested enough energy to attempt a thrust that would make a difference in their high speeds.

Basically, unless Synter really wanted to hurry home, he had time to relax. Do what he wanted. And although relaying his exact position to the Xeno's of the galaxy would be somewhat dangerous, if he really wanted a connection on earth Xill could create satellites that scrambled their exact location. After all, with the new robots it was an easy project.

...