#according to my server anyway

[deltadescent]

good [time of day here], i’ve been told this drawing of minnow makes people very extremely gay

looks like the hypnoshades are working in reverse

[sthenored]

Reason #5927 that PIDW is problematic

[takethelx3]

I'm a little late cuz time slipped away from me but happy birthday Hiiro (even though,,,,, uhhhh,,, I ended up drawing everyone in ur bday image?)

(Hiiro is overcome with love for his besties on his bday I put tears in his eyes I know he's not the type to cry a lot but I think it's not illegal if he cries on his bday bc he loves his fam)

[llumimoon]

thinking abt dot and sobbing AUGGHHH CRIES I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

[transgender-catboy]

why does walter bad want you dead

Furry ↑

[lemonlover1110]

𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃

Choso

Pairing: Bass Guitarist!Choso x f!Reader

Summary: You usually hang out with Choso after his concerts, only this time he wants to talk about your relationship. Luckily for you, you know how to distract him from important matters.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Friends with Benefits, Car Sex, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Squirting, Creampie, Angst if you squint

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

This art was sent in my server and I was forced to write about him in this AU, anyway I hope you lovelies enjoy!! likes and reblog always appreciated❤️

There’s a whole crowd that screams Choso’s name from the top of their lungs as his fingers strum against the strings of his bass. Choso, a very reserved man, someone who is not even the star of the band but the most beloved amongst fans. Is it because they barely know anything about him? Or is it because he looks too hot while he really gets into the song? For you, it’s the latter. 

Choso lets himself loose as his mind, body and soul embrace the song. It becomes an issue for him to stay close to the microphone, until he realizes his vocals come up. He’s sweaty, his eyeshadow smudged and running down his cheeks; it’s a look that drives the fangirls wild, and you can’t exactly blame them for it.

They get louder when they hear Choso’s voice, and you wonder if it drives Suguru insane that even though he’s the lead vocalist, he doesn’t get as much attention as Choso. There’s just something about Choso that has everyone in a trance. He looks so seductive even when he barely tries.

The song ends, and the crowd cheers, wanting more from the band. For a moment the only thing you hear is the crowd chanting Choso’s name. You don’t understand why they go wild over him, but then again, you guess that the lack of knowledge about him makes him intriguing. However, you know all you need to know about him. 

“I really don’t get why they go so crazy over him! I’d argue that Getou is hotter.” You yell to your friend, and she rolls her eyes. She knows you’re just talking to talk because given the option, you always choose Choso.

The noise dies as the sound of the bass begins again. All eyes are on Choso until Suguru begins to sing. Your eyes stay on Choso, and his eyes scan the crowd until they land on you. A smile comes onto his face as you maintain eye contact. His eyes finally look away, looking down at his guitar. You know you’ll be seeing each other later.

Just to tease you, he does something that he rarely does. Something that makes the crowd get louder, his tongue running up the neck of his guitar. You roll your eyes as your cheeks get hot. You fucking hate him. 

You have no issue getting backstage after the show. The security guard looks at your friend funny, but he knows you so he assumes that she’s okay to pass. He doubts that anyone will have a problem since you’re beloved among the band members.

“Hi, Lexi.” You wave at the woman who talks with her boyfriend. Suguru’s arm is thrown over her shoulders while they head to the door that you just walked through. She waves at you, blowing a kiss your way before focusing on her boyfriend again. 

“Where’s Gojo?” Your friend asks, her eyes searching for the white haired man, after all, she joined you just because she knew you could get her the opportunity to talk to Satoru. You were going to come either way since Choso sent you a message, it didn’t hurt for her to tag along. 

You’re about to help her, but your eyes land on Choso. There’s a subtle smile on his face when he notices you. He walks toward you, and you completely ignore your friend as she continues asking about Satoru. She rolls her eyes, knowing damn well that you were acting tough and annoyed as everyone chanted Choso’s name because according to you he isn’t a big deal. It’s clear jealousy.

From what she knows, you and Choso have an unusual friendship– Which is another way of saying that you’re friends with benefits. You both came to an agreement where you could use each other’s bodies with no strings attached, however, tonight it might all come to an end. Whether you like it or not. 

“I’m glad to see you here.” Choso says as you give him a side hug. You don’t like to get too touchy while others are around. He still kisses the top of your head, before he looks at your friend. “Who did you bring with you tonight?”

“Just my friend. She wants to meet Gojo.” You tell him, as his fingers intertwine with yours. Choso calls out for Satoru, hoping that the sooner your friend meets Satoru, the sooner you’ll get out of the place. Although getting out of the place so soon isn’t the best idea since there’s still an army of fans outside that will do just about anything to get a picture with Choso. 

The band’s popularity has increased over the past couple of months, and suddenly Choso always has someone throwing themselves at him. It ticks you off more than you’d like to admit. 

“What?” Satoru asks, clear annoyance in his voice. He notices you and he begins to approach you to give you a hug, but it earns a glare from Choso. All the members know you well and they consider you a good friend, which means they all know your situation with Choso. When Satoru notices the look, he sticks with a simple greeting. “Hey.”

“Hi, Gojo.” You smile at him. You then point to your friend, informing him, “She’s here to meet you.”

“Are you her ride home?” Choso questions, and you shake your head in response. She brought you here knowing that you would go your separate ways after the concert. She saw the message that Choso had left on your phone, and she urged you to come. “Does that mean we can leave?”

“I think so.” You answer. You still check to see if she’s okay being left alone with Satoru before leaving. When she says yes, you lead Choso out of the building. Your eyes stare at the case of his guitar and you ask, “Do you need help? I’m really strong, just so you know.”

He laughs, “No doubt about it, but I can handle it.”

“You’re in a hurry.” Choso comments when you step outside. He takes the lead, dragging you to his car. 

“Weren’t you the one that was asking if we could leave?” You chuckle, and he laughs as well. He opens the trunk to put the case in before walking to the passenger door and opening it for you. He watches you get inside before he shuts the door for you. He nearly runs to the driver’s side, embarrassingly impatient.

“Do you want to join Lexi and Suguru tonight? Or what do you want to do?” Choso isn’t exactly the person to go hang out with his friends after a concert, especially at a bar. But he knows that you like that sort of stuff, so he sticks with you until you’re ready to go back home– Or back to his apartment, whichever place is closest to the place you’re hanging out in.

“Can we just go back to your place?” You respond, your eyes focused on his side profile. You were too jealous earlier to admire just how good he looks tonight.

“Can we talk about–” He begins, but you grab the collar of his shirt and put your lips on his before he can finish his sentence. You know he wants to talk about the message that he sent, something that made you want to stay home tonight. Can we talk about us? Or something along those lines, you just know that you don’t want to change this perfect arrangement.

Your tongue enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hands go to his belt. He doesn’t know why you’re so eager tonight, it doesn’t click in his head. Maybe the little trick from earlier worked to rile you up, and he’s certain that it was that when you unbutton his pants and begin to pull them down. 

“Here? Aren’t you scared–” He begins when you pull away from the kiss but you begin to kiss his neck. Your lips go to that one sweet spot that makes him weak, sucking on it. You aren’t scared that you’ll get caught, that’s good to know. He’s the one that should be worried about getting caught since he’s the one that has to hold a public image. 

The parking lot is private, and it’s pretty much empty. He isn’t too worried about that. 

“Don’t you want to go somewhere more private?” He still asks but he doesn’t bother to stop you as you spit on his cock, your hand wrapping around the base and slowly stroking it. 

“We can talk later. Right now, I need your cock in my mouth.” You kiss his shaft before your tongue drags on his length and begins to circle on his tip. You begin to kiss the tip, causing Choso to bite down his lip. He’s certainly not going to stop now.

Your mouth wraps around his cock, hearing the moan whimper just at the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Everything you do drives him wild. It’s why he can’t stop you when he wants to talk about more serious issues– Issues that concern your relationship and what you’re doing. 

He doesn’t like it like this though. He loves the sight of your pretty face as your mouth is wrapped around his cock. He still loves the feeling though. He praises you, “You’re doing so good, baby.” 

You take all of him in your mouth, gagging on his length which causes the tears to build up in your eyes. It’s a sight that usually drives the man wild, although he doesn’t like to admit it; unluckily for him, he only sees the back of your head. 

His head is thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head. You have complete control over him, and he hates it. But he certainly loves the way he feels at the moment. When the tears fall from your eyes, you lift up your head, detaching yourself from his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his cock.

“Can we do it here?” You ask him as your thighs rub against one another, the heat between your legs getting too unbearable. Your libido is too high, you can’t wait to go back to his place. You need him now.

Choso’s cheeks are flushed, and the man’s brain goes a thousand miles per minute. What you’re thinking of is riskier, and if anyone walks by, you’ll get caught. But he doesn’t care. He needs you too. 

“Yeah, let’s do it here.” He agrees, and you crawl over to his side. You lift up your skirt, moving your panties to the side. Two of his fingers run through your folds, noting just how wet you are when he’s done nothing to you. The mere thought of him drives you insane.

You align his cock with your entrance before slowly sitting on it. His lips land on yours, feeling your moans vibrate through your tongue as you move on his cock. 

You move back and forth on his cock. You feel euphoric as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot. 

Choso pulls away, grabbing the back of your neck to pull your face away. He needs to admire your beautiful face, taking in every single detail about it. You look so alluring with your messed up makeup. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, and he gets a sense of satisfaction knowing that he caused it. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, his nose burying in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent, getting more intoxicated by you. You’re controlling all of his thoughts lately, even though you’re not even trying.

“You’re so big.” You say, your back arching as Choso begins to thrust his hips instead of leaving it to you to handle it all. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, giving you more stimulation so your high approaches sooner. The faster you finish, the faster you can go again. “Oh– Choso!”

“Fuck–” He can’t help but curse. He’s getting so lost inside of you. In more ways than one. 

His hand pulls down your tank top, and the man gets upset at the bra that gets in the way of what he wants. He pulls down the cups of your bra so his tongue circles around your nipples. He greedily kisses and licks before his mouth finally wraps around one of your tits. 

His other hand begins to toy with the nipple that isn’t in his mouth, teasing it and pinching it. All the stimulation makes your brain foggy as your climax begins to get the best of you. You continue to chant his name, getting louder and louder. 

“Oh, fuck!” You yell as you come around his cock. You make a mess all over him, squirting on him. You’d be embarrassed with someone else, but Choso has seen you do so much worse– It helps that you know he absolutely loves it. Choso bites down on your nipple before unlatching.

“You’re such a good girl. Making a mess all over me.” His hands move to your hips, his nails digging into your flesh. 

“You always take me so well.” He’s kissing your neck, his thrusts getting sloppy. His warm cum fills you up not too long after, and you bite down your bottom lip to not moan. You fucking love it when he fills you up, but he rarely does it. He got too caught up in the moment. 

He stays buried inside of you, continuing kissing your neck, going up to your face. He almost whispers, “Can we talk?”

“Your dick is buried inside of me, might as well.” You chuckle, and he awkwardly returns the gesture. His soft eyes look into yours, and the look tells you all you need to know. You were suspecting it since lately Choso has been more… Romantic than what you had agreed upon. Getting flowers weekly isn’t what your friend is supposed to do.

“I want you.” He can’t put it any other way. Choso’s written what feels like hundreds of songs but he can’t find the right words to express himself. You don’t want to have this conversation now, or any time soon for that matter.

You take advantage of his indistinct way of expressing himself. It's not that you don't want him the same way, it's just easier to keep what you have going on. Choso is getting too big so fast, you don't want to start something that'll end up badly. Which is simply ironic.

You reach to the side of the seat, reclining the seat, pushing his back down. Your lips go to his ear, whispering, “You have me.”

It’s not the way he means it, not one bit. But he’ll take it until he can express himself properly.

[kurophiliac]

Hello, It's Plato. I am making this post to provide additional context on the accusations for those who do not use Twitter. As you saw from @bezierballad 's apology, the screenshots were all faked. But there's more proof I wanted to add that they did not include. I'm sure many of you have already heard this on Twitter, so my apologies for the repetition. These are just the main points I want to get out.

Zex, the creator of the screenshots, has been caught in several lies.

According to the time stamps in the fake screenshots, it would have been impossible for the messages to have come from the server where they claimed the conversation took place. Charlie left in 2023, Zex joined in 2024, and the screenshots were all marked "today." They also can't be old screenshots because Zex and Charlie were not on the server at the same time.

When asked to provide message IDs, Zex said that they had already left the server (where they claimed to have obtained the screenshots from). However, as of right now, they are still on the server. They will be promptly removed once a moderator wakes up.

Charlie and I's nicknames from the screenshots are not nicknames or pfps we ever had in the server they supposedly came from. These nicknames were exclusive to a 7-person group chat. The only reason Zex knew of them was because of a screenshot I posted a month or two ago. It would have been much more believable if they had used our actual usernames.

(Edit) Something I forgot to add- when Zex was questioned about how they got onto the server, they said they pretended to be a proshipper and DMd me for the link to the server where they took the screenshots. However, I haven't been active in that server lately, and I never sent anyone any server links within the past 6 months.

How were the screenshots faked?

There are two likely scenarios. One being that they were generated by a bot. There are *many* services out there that will generate fake discord texts. OR they used an alt account or friend to "roleplay" Charlie and I thirsting over Charlie's non-existent 5yo cousin. Which is infinitely worse.

So, who really is Zex, and what was their motive?

The easiest explanation regarding motive is just that they wanted to make proshippers look bad. This is pretty typical anti behavior. Charlie and I could have been selected at "random" as we are two bigger sebaciel accounts. But there might actually be more to it.

Now, from this point forward, we are stepping outside the realm of fact and inside the realm of educated guesses. There exists a person who has serious grudges against me, Charlie, and Bezier. Only one person who we are aware of. This individual is a proshipper with a history of going undercover as an anti to stir up trouble and a history of faking screenshots to make antis look bad.

This person was also in the server where the original confession/accusation was made.

They had deleted their account prior to the confession. Zex is actually a new account that only joined the anti server (where the confession was made) yesterday. They basically came into the server just to make this accusation. Pretty suspicious. It's likely that Zex, in an attempt to ruin Charlie and I's reputation as revenge for us ruining theirs, created these screenshots. As seen in the posts by Bezier, Zex asked them to make a post because they didn't want to deal with the repercussions. Zex knows these screenshots are fake, and they also know that people will eventually figure it out. So, if their attempt to frame us didn't work, at least they'd be able to ruin Beziers reputation. Or perhaps even all three, if people were more divided and hadn't come to a consensus. Please keep in mind that there is no evidence that the individual with the grudge and history of faked screenshots and causing drama is actually Zex. However, it is seeming more and more likely.

Anyway. This has been a very tiring day. I am grateful to Bezier for taking down the OP and writing an apology. And as for Zex- I will likely be taking legal action against them.

[covetyou]

the howler monkey

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Mature (18+ only!) warnings: no smut but some nudity, implied drug use/addiction, little bit silly, mildly angsty, performance anxiety, screaming, Dieter Bravo's soft cock. basically mild hurt/comfort/fluff with my usual bit of silliness. word count: 2.8k summary: You got him here, he was safely tucked away upstairs and everything was going, mostly, according to plan. So, who the fuck is screaming?

A/N: For the Dieter Bravo Brain Rot Club March Server Challenge - you're unhinged and I love you all. Dieter would be so, so proud of us. Circus mention in honour of Clown!Dieter.

TROPE: Only one bed and forced proximity PROMPT: "You're going to get us arrested." "Oh, I've always liked the idea of you in handcuffs."

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for fic updates

On days like this, getting Dieter Bravo out of the house was more like wrangling an overtired toddler than it was dealing with a full grown man. At least, you assumed it was. You didn't have a toddler for reference, but you did have a Dieter and, sometimes, that felt worse. He stalled and delayed for so long that by the time you finally - finally - got him out of the door, it was quite literally a race to get the the airport.

The flight hadn't been much different, having to practically drag him through the terminal with head down and sunglasses on to cram him into his window seat. Truth be told, you didn't know why you were flying with him anyway, only to fly back later tonight. Still, as long as it wasn't your money on the line, what Dieter wanted, Dieter got.

But now it was done. You got him here relatively unscathed, all things considered, and Dieter had been deposited in his room, ready to get a full nights beauty sleep before the press descended and the festival opened. All that was left to do was check in with his publicist and you'd be on your way back home, where you couldn't wait to crawl into bed and have a few blissful days to yourself.

So, as is the natural way with these things, it's when you're just finishing up with his publicist in the back of the bar that it all starts. It's nothing but a few strained looks from the hotel staff to begin with.

Then the phones start ringing. Every single one.

And when the phones can't be answered quick enough, hotel guests start crowding around the lobby, whispering amongst themselves about the screaming.

The screaming.

And your blood turns cold. Because it's not. It couldn't be. He wouldn't.

The publicist pays no attention, continuing swiping through his phone and yammering away. Not your circus, not your monkeys, you try to think to yourself as the lobby just gets busier and busier.

But then the hotel manager rushes in, sickly sweet smile plastered on his face, Dieter's publicist blissfully unaware as he stares down at his phone, looking at schedules and interview times and literally anything but the chaos evolving around you.

"Excuse me? Excuse me," he's saying, wringing his hands together as he approaches the table. "You're with Mr. Bravo?"

His publicist doesn't even bother looking up, simply nodding as you stare, open mouthed, into the lobby.

"It seems we have... a bit of a problem," he whispers with wide eyes. "Mr. Bravo is uh... well, screaming. It's disturbing the other guests. I'm afraid if he doesn't stop we're going to have to ask him to leave or call the police."

Well, shit. This is your circus, and that is your monkey in particular.

You're swiping the extra key card out of his hand and making your way out of the bar and into the packed lobby as quick as you can while his publicist sits there, arguing that Dieter would never (he would), that he was quiet (he wasn't), and so it couldn't possibly be him (it absolutely could).

The elevator feels so slow, the whirl of gears and an unseen mechanism pulling you up and up, as you ascend the many floors of the hotel. Then, in a blink and with another creak the doors are about to pull themselves open, and you swear you can hear it already.

The fucking screaming.

You're running now, the elevator doors barely open before you're squeezing through them, not caring for the noise you make as you thud heavily down the hallway. What would a little extra noise matter when there's someone screaming blue murder inside one of the hotel rooms.

Tapping the card, the lock on room 819 illuminates green and you're throwing open the door, the screams having subsided for a moment, and shutting yourself inside and trying to catch your breath.

Aside from the silence, it's dark. That's the first thing you notice. The second thing you notice is Dieter Bravo is nowhere to be seen, even in the dim light creeping around the window.

"Dee... Dieter?" you whisper into the darkness, hoping beyond hope that he's not here and he hasn't been screaming for the past fifteen minutes.

A small, hoarse voice floats toward you from much further away than you'd expect him to be able to be given the size of the room, "Who is it?"

"Dieter? It's me. What the fuck is going on? Where are you?" you loud whisper into the hotel room, running your fingertips across the wall as you creep forward. From what you can tell it looks the same as when you left him here. Nothing is wrecked or overturned, and he hasn't had another sudden burst of artistic inspiration - the walls look the same as they did when you shut the door to Dieter looking forlornly out of the window to the city below.

"What do you mean?" comes the muffled voice. It's closer now, but you still can't see him. There's no lump on the bed, no one sat in the chair, and he's not lying spread eagle on the floor.

"Dieter, where the fuck are you?!"

He sighs, and you hear a slap, like the sound of a hand hitting a flat, solid surface. "Under here, numbnuts."

You take another step forward, peaking under the desk, seeing no sign of Dieter. Turning toward the bed, you try to find somewhere else to look under to find wherever Dieter has stashed himself when you see it.

Two bare legs sticking out from under the bed, the end of his soft green robe just poking out from beneath the frame.

"Dee... what is going on, why are you under there? There was screaming, they think it's coming from in here."

Dieter's silence is all you need to confirm it was indeed coming from in here, from him. Pinching your nose, you ready yourself for whatever he's going to throw at you this time.

"Why are you screaming?"

"Come under here."

"Dieter, no, it's disgusting under there, they don't clean these -"

"I'll tell you if you come under here."

"No, I know this is a nice hotel, but the floors are still filth-"

Dieter cuts you off, a loud scream ripping out of his chest and rattling around your head at a frequency that makes you feel like your skull is about to burst. It must hurt, is all you can think, his throat must be raw and his mouth dry. Panic sets in - hearing a scream like that will do that to a person, you suppose. You panic not just because it must hurt, but because if there was one thing you knew, despite Dieter Bravo's flair for dramatics, he wasn't a man to scream for no reason. And, as much as you hate to admit it, you can't help but think down to Dieter's publicist likely still sat in the bar - Dieter will be impossible to interview tomorrow if you don't stop him soon, and that's if he's even allowed to stay in the hotel much longer.

So, you do the only thing you know how to do when a metaphorical fire in the shape of Dieter Bravo threatens to burn everything down. You throw yourself over it and hope for the best.

"DEE! DIETER! OKAY, OKAY!" you shout, trying not to grimace as you get on your hands and knees to crawl under the cramped space under the bed, ignoring the grit and dust already on your palms.

"Fuck. Shit, Dieter. Ow." You're wedged under there with him now, ass sticking up in the air as you cram your upper body under the bed frame. You can see the vague shape of him under here, a Dieter shaped profile visible in front of you as he stares blankly up at the underside of the bed.

"What's wrong with you?" you ask, somewhat breathlessly, only to watch Dieter tense up at your words. Shit. You didn't mean it like that, and you certainly didn't say it like that either, but before you can take it back and apologize, he beats you to it.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong with me," he says in a voice so much smaller and quieter now that your head is right beside his.

"Sorry. Look, I didn't - I meant, why are you screaming, Dee. They said they'd have to kick you out or call the cops. You're going to get us arrested."

"Arrested, huh?" he says thoughtfully, turning to look over at you. "I've always liked the idea of you in handcuffs."

"No, Dieter," you say, and even though you know he can't see you, you roll your eyes in the dark anyway.

Dieter's sigh is so big it picks up errant dust swirls it around under the bed. The urge to swipe at your nose is strong but you resist, knowing from the state of things and the chalky feeling of your palms that it'll only make things worse.

"I'm nervous," he finally says, and that's all you needed to hear.

His face is turned toward the underside of the bed when you crawl backwards. It takes a moment for him to notice, but as soon as he does he's whimpering and taking in a breath big enough that you know he's going to scream again. But you're not leaving, and instead you roll onto your back with an oof and slide yourself under the bed to look up into the nothing with Dieter.

You think back to other times he'd been like this. Too scared to perform, anxiety taking root, frightening him off into some dark quiet corner of a set or his house. You'd found him in his closet once, the only thing apparently capable of coaxing him out was watching you unbutton your shirt a little more because you'd gotten so hot sitting in the stifling little room with him. When he'd finally made his way out, it had been with his eyes glued to the extra patch of skin you'd uncovered and the trickle of sweat dripping down your chest.

Dark as it was, visual distractions wouldn't work this time.

"How many times do you have exactly the same thoughts, and how many times does everything turn out okay anyway? You're good at this, Dieter. You're going to be amazing tomorrow, just like you always are, and I'm not saying that to pressure you to perform, but just because you are. You're amazing."

"Yeah, right," he scoffs, slapping a hand dramatically down on the floor again with a grunt.

"I'm serious. You have a lot to be proud of."

"A lot to not be proud of too."

"Well, you know what to do about that."

"I'm not going to rehab."

"I've never told you to."

Dieter sighs again, because you were right. You had never told him to go to rehab. You never would. It didn't feel like your place to - you were only his assistant. He knows this and you think - know - that sometimes he'd like for you to just tell him to get it together and go, but you don't. "I know."

You don't know how long you both lie there in silence and darkness after that, softly exchanging breaths under the bed. You do know it's long enough for your mind to wander back down to the bar and all the people now going about their evenings. It's not lost on you that no one came in to check on him before you. That now that he'd been silent for several minutes, no one had bothered to knock on the door to see if he was okay. None of them cared, not really. You knew that and, worse of all, Dieter knew that. The people here didn't care about him unless he was being a shiny, glitzy movie star who could say and do the right things in front of the cameras.

Scuffling feet alert you to his movement as Dieter move shuffles toward you, his head colliding gently with the side of yours. You make no effort to move and neither does he, choosing instead to lean his head against yours and rest it there.

The signs are obvious then. The small weave of his head as his eyes track invisible shapes in the dark. The twitch in his fingers, the bounce of his foot. He'd been a mess all day, you can see that now, and whatever he had taken since getting here was somehow making it better and worse all at once.

"How much have you taken this time?"

His breath catches, caught doing something he said he wouldn't do, not here, not this time. But he doesn't lie, not to you. He'd stopped doing that a long time ago, and that was as much progress as you could ever hope for.

"Too much. Not enough. I don't know."

"Okay," you say, even though it isn't, not really. He should stop. You wish you could do more to stop him.

"Will you stay?" he murmurs, even though he knows you have a flight to catch. He'd paid for it when he demanded you come with him, promising you a few days off while he was stuck at the festival answering the same questions over and over again.

"You know I can't, my flight is in a couple of hours, I need to get through the traffic -"

"Please stay."

"There is nowhere for me to stay, Dieter. You don't need me here and I couldn't get a room if I tried. Everywhere nearby is booked." Assistants don't sleep with their employers, assistants don't sleep with their employers...

"I do. I do need you. I'm not asking you to stay anywhere else, I'm asking you to stay here. Stay with me," he mumbles. "I can sleep under here if I have to. Just stay." Assistants don't sleep with their fucking employers...

"You're not sleeping on the floor. And I- I can't." By this point you don't know why you can't, because maybe assistants don't sleep with their employers, but you and Dieter were always a little bit, well... y'know.

"Please."

And your resolve never was that strong where Dieter was concerned. Not really. "Fine. I'll stay. I need a shower and I need to go -"

"You can borrow some of my clothes," he says quickly. "We can shower - separately, I mean - get room service - fuck I'm starving - and then when we sleep, we can cuddle?"

You can't help but laugh, smiling up at the bed at how quickly his mood could turn around, particularly where cuddling and a good meal were concerned. Sometimes, when he was really tired, or high, or sad, or a combination of all three, he'd ask you to cuddle. You'd always settle on stroking his hair instead, watching his face as his jaw relaxed and sleep finally pulled at his features before sneaking away. Today, you had nowhere else to be so, you think, you may as well stay to cuddle.

"Yeah, Dee. We can cuddle."

You talk over room service - fancy toasted sandwiches and warm chocolate chip cookies that weren't on the menu, but Dieter had the audacity to ask for anyway. When you shower, he waits outside the door for you, restlessly stepping from foot to foot. You wait for him too, convincing him to leave the door open a little just in case, and he does so without question. A few minutes later he comes out, flushed red from the heat of the water and totally naked. You don't bat an eye.

Your skin still feels damp when you're climbing into bed, grateful to be on top of it and grit free now rather than under it. Dieter soon follows, crawling naked on all fours before tucking his legs under the sheets beside you.

You talk for a little longer, listening as Dieter sounds more and more slurred with sleep, before flicking the light off. He fidgets, shuffling closer to you until his arm wraps around your chest, resting his hand softly on your shoulder, his nose nuzzling into your neck on the pillow you now share. It's not comfortable, not for you, but the contented sounds coming from Dieter and the way his face twitches against your bare skin tells you he's holding back tears, that he needs this. You can be uncomfortable for one night, you think, just before he hooks his leg over yours, well and truly pinning you to the bed.

"Dee?"

"Yeah?"

"Your cock is on my leg."

"I know."

"Okay, well... G'night Dee."

"Night," he says straight into your ear, smacking his lips as he snuggles into your side, soft cock squished against your leg. And when, somehow, sleep ignores your discomfort and pulls you under barely a few minutes later, you swear you can feel Dieter press his lips to the bare skin of your neck.

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Frank is Pisces

I made a thread for this theory on TSBS Discord server and it blew up (it blew up so much more than I ever thought it would, like Jesus Christ. I'm super happy about it though). I figured that since I moved all my canon info stuff over here from the server, I might as well move my theory stuff over too

Long post warning, since there's a lot here. A lot of this exists because I was possessed by my adhd demon one night, noticed something about Frank, and then ran wild with it

(Last two pictures are part of a chart that SqarletGecko made for this theory. If Sqarlet sees this at any point, hi, hello! I appreciate you for feeding into this, Sqarlet)

There will be more images tacked on later. I'd add them now, but unfortunately, there's a 10 picture limit to posts. As stupid as that is. ANYWAY

Frank’s strong enough to kill two different witherstorms. Although him outright killing them was never verified, it was one of the only ways he could’ve come back so soon. The only other way would’ve been to wait by the portal, but assuming Moon would’ve closed it off due to the dimensions that Frank was in housing witherstorms, Frank would’ve had to find another way out

His name is neither Frank nor Forkface, so it’s entirely possible that it could be Pisces

Sqarlet pointed out that Castor said “Pisces is probably off doing his own thing”, which could be anything, and it certainly doesn’t preclude Pisces being on earth as Frank, doing whatever he’s been doing

In the “Lunar Gets Friendzoned” vrchat episode, Castor mentions Pisces again, this time saying (in reference to how Lunar’s “final test” would go, and how someone would be sent to judge his ability to control his powers) “Could be Nebula, could be Libra. Could be Pisces, but I doubt that. Hell, it could even be Taurus.” This is the second time Castor’s mentioned Pisces, as if he doesn’t have a whopping 10 other signs he could pull names from (minus Gemini and Pisces, obviously). This could be a case of simply sticking to a smaller pool out of the 12 names, but still

Castor has mentioned Pisces offhandedly two different times. Yeah, there could be a really simple explanation for that, but it sticks out to me, and I can't pinpoint why

During an Uno video, they did a “one breath for yes, two for no” thing with Frank, and he confirmed that he had a bad past. Given some of the things that Castor has said about Taurus, it’s a possibility that Frank/Pisces was trying to get away from him. Some other Pisces traits are that they’re supposed to be super empathetic and deeply emotional. If Taurus said or did something that impacted Frank/Pisces enough, he could’ve chosen to leave

For a while, Frank didn’t seem to react much when people acted scared of him, but as he’s spent more time with the channels, he’s developing more emotionally, which would make sense if he was younger. According to a google search I ran, “Pisces emotional sensitivity is high, helping them to remain in tune with others also leaving them vulnerable to criticism, worrying about about the effects that their actions might have on others,” which could explain why he acted so sad when he briefly appeared in the lobby in an FFFS episode and everyone acted scared of him

Pisces has a heightened emotional sensitivity, they're very in tune with the emotions of those around them, and this in turn makes them worry about how others might react to them

In another Uno video, Foxy made a lighthearted comment to Frank about how he reminded him of his son, since he has a habit of inserting himself into situations and things. There are other characters who do this too, meaning that Foxy could’ve compared Frank to literally anyone, and yet, he chose a character that’s a child. If Frank is Pisces, he’d be the youngest of the astral bodies

If you watch him, Frank does have some childlike mannerisms and behaviors. The first thing is the way he sometimes wants to show someone something, but then gets upset when they touch it. It’s like when a kid gets a new toy and shows their friend, but then gets upset when their friends tries playing with it because it’s theirs. The second thing is him apparently drawing on the wall underneath Earth’s bed. Drawing on walls is something that kids do. The third thing is him trying to feed Earth a piece of pizza. Kids will sometimes try to feed people too, though it’s typically only with people they’re close with, that they know pretty well

If Frank is Pisces and therefore the youngest of the astral bodies, there’s a chance that he chose to show up in the daycare because he knows it’s a safe place for kids, and that there are good caretakers there (Sun, Moon, Earth, and Lunar). He could’ve chosen a daycare attendant-esque form to blend in better with the daycare environment, or he could’ve copied what he saw of the caretakers there, much like how kids copy the adults they see

Pisces is the youngest of the astral bodies, so everything that Frank does that seems like something a kid might do,, could sort of tie in with that. Frank has seemed to somewhat mature and "grow up" in a sense as of recently though, so these childlike habits and behaviors have begun to become rarer and rarer

Pisces has ties to illusions, dreams, and the subconscious. This could explain the times when Frank appeared in both Monty and Earth’s dreams, and then dragged the Stitchwraith into his own mind. In the case of Monty’s dream, Frank knew that they’d had problems with their dad and he’d even offered to be their listening ear, so seeing the shape Monty was in emotionally and mentally after their dad died, Frank may have guided them to an image of their dad to try to promote a form of closure and emotional healing and recovery before Monty woke up (did I mention that being a healer is also a Pisces trait?). He was silent in the dream, so Monty’s mind couldn't have heard his signature heavy breathing and did something funky with that. In Earth’s case, Frank somehow knew that she was having a nightmare and he came to wake her up, repeatedly saying “no fear”, as if he was telling her not to be afraid. With the Stitchwraith, the Stitchwraith wasn’t aware that he’d been pulled into his own mind. Frank didn’t confirm that he was until he told the Stitchwraith that “It’s just a bad dream, a nightmare”, and told him to wake up

More Pisces traits are wanting to help people and being a healer. Adding in the ties to illusions, dreams, and the subconscious, I feel like creating dreams to help people recover from things wouldn't be too farfetched. In the case of Earth, Frank knew she was having a nightmare and wanted to wake her up so that she wouldn't be scared anymore. To this day, I have no way to explain how he could've possibly known about her having a nightmare, aside from sensing her distress and/or having some kind of connection to her subconscious

I found a snippet of an article that said “When we meet Pisces, we are taken aback by their remote coldness; they often act like confused geniuses or oddballs who have trouble interacting with others.” It’s confirmed that Frank is highly intelligent; he somehow knew how to get into Moon’s computer and registered himself as the primary user, and he somehow swiped Foxy’s voicebox and installed it in himself, then took it back out and reinstalled it in Foxy. Frank is also an oddball, but I don’t really need to explain that one

Frank has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t like Ruin. He’s had many opportunities to take him out or even just attack him, but he hasn’t. Castor has stated that astral bodies typically don’t get involved with things or associate with people unless they really need to. If Frank is Pisces, he may have avoided going after Ruin because it’d go against the rules

There are some mixed messages on whether or not Pisces is a rule follower, but a couple things I found that stuck out to me implied that sometimes they follow the rules, and sometimes they do whatever they want as long as they’re satisfied. We were given a glimpse of this with Frank when Lunar tried to run him over with a car in a vrchat episode. Frank didn’t seem to care as much about the fact that he was nearly run over, and instead, became agitated with Lunar for parking incorrectly. He also made Lunar get in his car, and then proceeded to move it out of the alley and to the drive thru, where Lunar was supposed to be anyways. He might’ve also reacted poorly to Monty and Earth bringing a goose into the restaurant they were in, since animals don’t belong there. Beyond that, Frank’s also gotten upset with Sun and tried to menacingly follow him around the room when Sun cheated during a game of Uno, showing that he doesn’t like cheaters

Frank seems to have a knack for interrupting people’s dates. Most of the time, he’s trying to help but doesn’t seem to grasp that his behavior might be making people uncomfortable, BUT according to google, the Pisces sign is known for being jealous of other people’s love lives. After the death of Ruined Monty, Frank may have started to feel a little jealous of others

According to google, “most Pisceans are very good at earning a stable living,” and “they are usually very effective in any career that needs collaboration with others or inventiveness.” It’s been stated before that Frank works in at least three different restaurants, and a restaurant type environment would require collaboration with others to keep everything running smoothly. He’d be earning good money from those three restaurant jobs, and another Pisces trait is wanting to help people, so working in a restaurant would be a way for him to do that

Strengths of Pisces would include being selfless and thoughtful, passionate and creative, gratitude and self-sacrifice, tolerance and a keen understanding, and being kind and sympathetic. Weaknesses of Pisces include being influenced by their surroundings, being careless, rash, and ill-disciplined, having an inability to confront reality due to an absence of confidence, being insecure, sentimentalism, indecisiveness, and a lack of foresight. These are all from a chart I found, and although I don’t think we’ve seen too many of these weaknesses in Frank yet, we’ve definitely seen a lot of the strengths

We have no idea where Frank was before he first showed up at the daycare. Fazbear apparently had him shipped in to replace Moon, but with how easily he got into Moon’s computer, it wouldn’t be too farfetched to assume that he could’ve possibly also hopped onto a different device and sent a fake email, posing as Fazbears to keep people from asking too many questions about why he’s there

Like Sqarlet has said, we’ve noticed a pattern of astral signs following the usual astrological descriptions, but it’s not necessarily a rule, nor is it to a T. It’s very possible that Frank mostly follows the general tendencies of Pisces, but still has individual quirks and such that are different. It could be a case where perfectionism or a preference for rule-following/organization is just a lil personal thing of his, unrelated to astrology

Another thing suggested by Sqarlet is that the Pisces dealio might explain why Frank’s general choice of appearance is generally uncanny/unsettling. Astral bodies don’t necessarily have a spectacular grasp on how to Aesthetic effectively, at least from an earthling’s perspective

Eclipse once used star power to get into Puppet’s dreamscape, when Puppet was on his way to get Lunar. If star power is what makes dreamscape stuff possible, then Frank would need access to it in order to do the same (see: all the dream stuff he did with Monty and him showing up in Stitchwraith’s dreamscape)

Whenever Frank appears, whoever he appears around is usually experiencing a negative emotion of some sort. Some instances of this can be seen when he showed up and tried to talk to Monty after Monty had a fight with their dad and was frustrated, when Earth and Sun were worrying about Lunar when Lunar lost his voice, when Sun got turned into a dragon and was panicking, and when Earth had a nightmare and was freaking out over it

Foxy’s implied that Frank was probably trying his best to be helpful, during all the dates that he unintentionally ruined. Which… means that although Frank is trying his best to be helpful, he might not understand what “normal” behavior looks like, then he messes up, and then he gets upset when people misunderstand him and his intentions, or when whatever he’s doing ends up backfiring in some way. Pisces’ loves to help others and can’t stand being misunderstood, so this lines up beautifully

During a podcast episode, Frank breathed heavier when Castor and Pollux were mentioned, implying that he may know them. Given how he even attempted to speak again, he likely had some kind of thoughts or feelings toward them, too

The astral bodies are typically aware of almost everything that happens. This might explain how Frank (if he’s Pisces) knew that Foxy would be alone on Christmas. It was only Foxy, Freddy, and Francine present when the Stitchwraith took FC, so unless Frank was spying on everyone or has taken to watching the channels like Ruin apparently does, he shouldn’t know what happened

If the Foxy’s Intervention episode is anything to go by, no one ever knows where Frank is, and yet, he still knows where he’s needed and goes there to help

With the way that Pisces deals with illusions just as much as dreams and the subconscious, it’s possible that the Frank that the Stitchwaith saw was just an illusion. This could explain why Frank wasn’t hit by Stitchwraith’s weird chest laser thing (unless he quickly teleported out of the way), and why we never saw him go up to the Stithwraith and try pushing him around or anything, despite how Frank was acting toward him. We’ve seen Frank physically interact with people before, so we know he can, but if he was an illusion, that wouldn’t be possible

Something else to consider that I haven't shared with the theory thread yet (that I can remember) is that when Pisces feels hurt or betrayed in any way, they can be incredibly vengeful. Their vengeance, according to a search I ran, could be intense enough to break trust and damage relationships, if they're not careful. In killing ruined Monty, Bloodmoon may have unknowingly made Frank feel so deeply hurt that Frank has now decided that he needs to get revenge on him. He kept saying things during their encounter that made it feel like he may be entertaining the idea of getting rid of one of the twins, which... follows a very "you took away someone who meant the world to me, let's see what happens when I do it to you" sort of logic

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable? 

Here me out please, before you all make assumptions. 

A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3. 

Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside. 

Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said… 

Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from. 

So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?

What are these acronyms?

[owo-writing-man]

Erm actually I have fictive role play disorder.

You can tell cause I have fictives who proxy

And according to twitch streamer aspen frost you can't use pk and be a system. That's crazy. It's why she removed it from her general. And the like waves of people who all left her server around that time were clearly just fictive role play disorder havers. Who were upset over that. And not other things.

Like the way she talks to minors.

Or when you threatened another minor

Oh this was also after she had made a public video fake claiming @rotten-heartthrob after her and several of her mods had harassed them, went through their pk, and took away their system role.

Who is again repeat after me : A MINOR.

And remember it's never aspens fault. It's the bad faith actors. Yknow all of her mod team.

The ones who all left her server(due to mistreatment) and publicly talk about their concern for her still.

You know the ones who actually handled the toy box situation. The situation she has publicly stated how she got sent proof of when she started her public friendship with toybox.

Also remember when she lied about a well known member of her community being groomed by toybox when asked why they left?

The person she said got groomed was also a minor

Anyway love my mutual @illusions11 fighting the good war. (You know the person she called slurs. And refused to apologize to for also fake claiming them. And telling them that the intorjects they have are "foul")

Illusion is also a minor.

Also aspen pls don't mass report my account.

I'm not a minor. And ik that's your preferred target of harassment😇🙏

[theminecraftbee]

can i request three somehow forced into a fake dating situation

Three stares directly into Martyn’s eyes. They are blue and of an average size. It feels as though maybe this should be against the rules, but according to the book it had read, this was… normal. A normal thing to do on a date. Look deeply into someone’s eyes. It would not be suspicious at all, even though Three isn’t really sure how to look more or less deeply into anyone’s eyes at all. Eyes are not flat, but even when Three Looks, it isn’t as though there is anything interesting in there.

Martyn is sweating somewhat. He looks away first.

Three’s pretty sure this counts as a victory, especially given Martyn can’t see Three’s face behind the mask anyway. It is good Three has now won the game of ‘staring lovingly into its date’s eyes’, because that had been a strange, threatening mortal ritual. It would rather not do that again.

“Haha, thanks again for agreeing to this date,” Martyn says, very suspiciously looking around the small cafe in a bustling semi-private Origins server. “It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to hang out like this. Gods, do I sound stupid.”

“You do,” Three says.

“You don’t have to answer those,” Martyn says.

“Will comply,” Three says.

“Oh, for the love of—we’re on a date. A date!” Here, Martyn winks obnoxiously. “It’s not a mission.” He winks obnoxiously again. “Besides, you should lighten up!”

“Will comply,” Three says.

“You know, I had forgotten how obnoxious that was,” Martyn says cheerfully. “Anyway, I should order us some drinks! Have some conversation! Keep an eye out around us, yeah, for our waiter?”

“You are not very subtle,” Three says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Martyn says. “Besides, honestly? I am really glad to just hang out with you. Because we’re dating! On this server for fancy couples. Yep.”

The problem is, of course, that a fancy origins server is a great place for the strangest of people to hide.

When Martyn had asked a favor, Three had been… uncertain. This was not because Three doesn’t care for Martyn—it does, greatly—or because Three didn’t want to see Martyn—they’d met up a few times before now, tentative and quiet and frustrated and all the things that were hard to explain, and then in all the ways they were okay again—but because Martyn, for all Three cares for him, is still an idiot.

Three is its own handler, now. It does not have to follow handlers that are morons. It had told Martyn this. When Martyn had stopped wheezing, he’d explained that it’d be fun. Not Listener business, he promised; he still hadn’t quite gotten out, but he wouldn’t drag Three in, Scout’s honor.

(Three believes him. It’s never been that Three doesn’t trust him.)

It was a friend of Martyn’s that had gone missing. Apparently, on some fancy modded server? And now, Martyn wanted Three to come help him do some recon because, quote, “Jimmy laughed at me until he cried and that hurt me a little bit, not going to lie, and I’ve used up the favors Ren owes me, and Oli was busy. Have you met Oli? You’d like Oli.”

(Three did not like Oli.)

Three agreed, despite its better judgement. The reason it thought this may be a poor plan was because—

“Ah, the lovely Valentines,” the waiter says. He gives them a plate of lovely heart-shaped calamari. Three wonders if they had belonged to heart-shaped squid. “It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s wonderful here with my beloved!” Martyn says.

The waiter and Martyn both look at Three. Three doesn’t say anything and sits perfectly still.

“Um,” the waiter says.

“It’s for a health condition,” Martyn says, which technically isn’t a lie.

“Very well, sirs, although it may get in the way of the kissing competition!”

Martyn, who had just started sipping some wine, chokes on it.

“I will win the kissing competition,” Three says.

Martyn chokes harder.

“I will see you to it!” the waiter says. “And of course, our patented species comparability exam is the highlight of the evening.”

“Oh. I am not sure I can produce viable offspring,” Three says.

The waiter stares at Three. Three stares back, although not into the waiter’s eyes, as to not cause any confusion. The mask somewhat prevents that from working, though.

“Very well then,” the waiter says. “I suppose just—do you need help?”

“It knows what it’s doing,” Martyn hisses.

“I did do research before coming here,” Three says.

“I’ll just head on,” the waiter says, in a tone that suggests to Three that maybe it did not do enough research before agreeing to help Martyn.

Oh well.

At least the mask means it doesn’t have to keep a straight face as it picks Martyn off the ground and, completely flat in tone, says: “Do not die. I would be sad if you died of something as stupid as choking on wine.”

“I asked for this,” Martyn says.

“Yes,” Three says. “You did. That is why I am here.”

(Beneath the table, it grabs Martyn’s hand. Martyn squeezes Three’s hand back. It had missed him, though. For all they do not see each other often—)

(Well. It had missed him, though.)

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - IT Ticket: Print Job

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU Byte-Sized Microfic

The LIST │ Read the main series here!

Chapter Rating: T

Story Summary: What if Joel tried to print out his list to put in his wallet but botched the print job? Who does he call in his time of need?

Word Count: 430

Inspired by this ask from a sweet anon:

A/N: Lately I've been receiving a lot of messages in my Asks and it's led to a lot of me sharing the lore and backstory of 'The Girl in IT'! I decided it would be fun if I answered these with a short, byte-sized fic! Thank you, sweet anon for the ask! Keep them coming!

"Ellie?" Joel's voice echoes from across the hall. "Get in here for a sec."

Ellie strides into Joel's office, hand on her hip. "What's up? I'm about to head out to the job site with Tommy."

Joel looks somewhat sheepish. "Need a hand."

"Okay… is it going to take long? I needed to be in the parking lot five minutes ago."

"Well, I tried to print out a document-"

Ellie groans, plopping onto the chair in front of him. "Isn't that why we hired Sugar? To help you handle your computer mishaps?"

Joel sighs, "She's with Tess right now. I figured this wasn't pressing enough to warrant the interruption. Besides, you know Tess."

Ellie rolls her eyes as she nods in agreement. "Fine. What happened after you hit print?"

Joel scratches his head, avoiding eye contact. "I may have pressed the wrong button. Instead of printing one page, I accidentally printed the entire manual for the printer. Now it's sitting in the tray, and I have no idea how to fix it."

Ellie chuckles, "You're lucky I'm here. Let's take a look."

They both stroll over to Joel's desk, and Ellie surveys the printer, a cascade of papers flowing out of the tray. Ellie bursts into laughter. "Yeah, you definitely printed the manual. Congratulations, Joel. You just set a new record for the most paperwork generated by a single print job. We should frame it."

Joel smirks, "Well, at least I know how to complicate things."

"What were you printing anyway?" Ellie asks, trying to peek at his laptop.

"Nothing! I mean, there was this form-"

"So a PDF, then?"

"I think so?"

Ellie shoves him aside, grabbing the mouse to check the document. "Joel, this is a Word doc, not a PDF. All you need to do is click on-" her eyes narrow as she looks at the screen, her eyes widening in shock. "Joel, WHAT THE FUCK!"

"Ellie-"

"Are you out of your mind, Joel? Printing this at work? Tess is going to kill you," Ellie admonishes.

"How is she gonna know?"

"Don't you know that Sugar monitors all computer usage for all of the employees? That includes all print jobs, moron!"

"I own this company, Ellie! My computer should be off-limits!"

"Not after the stunt Tommy pulled, getting the servers hacked with all of his explicit internet usage. If you have a bone to pick, take it up with management!"

"Hey! I AM management!"

Ellie shoots him a look as she heads to the door. "Not according to Tess!" She gives him a one-handed salute. "Adios, Romeo!"

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Fucking Machine

Loceit (Logan x Janus) Kinktober 2023 Day Ten: Fucking Machine Warnings: robot porn, wire play, electrocution, overstimulation, premature ejaculation, grinding

"Forgive me if I don't exactly trust you to check my hardware," Logan states, as Janus leads him through the house and up a flight of stairs. "Typically, I run an analysis on myself, and - if I need human assistance - I ask Virgil. You, on the other hand, have never been that... mindful of technology." 

Janus shrugs off Logan's concerns. "I'm more trustworthy when it comes to technology than Patton." 

"That's not hard to accomplish," Logan refutes, as Janus guides them into Logan's own bedroom. It's decorated to look human, but the metal table donned with a singular pillow clashes with the dresser, closet, and framed photos quite a bit. 

Still, it was what Logan had requested. He had no need for a bed; he didn't much like laying on his front, and his charging port was on his lower back. If he needed to sit at all, he'd rather do it on a table akin to the one he was created atop of. It also meant he could sit straighter while charging. 

Janus guides him to the table and encourages him to sit, before sitting criss-cross behind him. Janus finds the cold metal to be rather harsh and uncomfortable, but he keeps quiet about that for now. 

"I don't understand why you're doing this anyway. According to my recent self-scans, I've been running perfectly fine." 

"Isn't it nice to double check, though?" Janus asks, as his fingers slide beneath Logan's polo. 

Logan's skin is synthetic - it's made to feel human, but lacks warmth. Janus can even press his fingers into Logan's sides or arms and they'll sink a bit into the fake flesh, but it's just an outer layer designed to protect his wires and circuitry, the same way the skin is just an outer layer made to protect muscle and bone. 

Logan frowns. "It won't be nice when your unskilled prodding causes a server shutdown," he argues, as Janus slowly pulls his shirt up and over his body. 

He's able to process each touch to his body due to an array of microfibers built into the synthetic skin. He's been told it should feel identical to the way a human would feel when being touched the same way, but Logan had no way to compare the two. So Janus's fingertips brushing against his soft back makes his internal nerves spark, with Logan stiffening and straightening his posture. 

"If you're going to pull out the panel, I'd suggest you get on with it. I'm not here to entertain you." 

Janus chuckles softly. "Aren't you made to be patient?" 

"I can tell you that I'm definitely not made to be tampered with." Logan turns his head to the side, and gives Janus a cold glare. "Especially by someone already acting so unprofessional." 

"Such a snarky tongue. Is that programmed, or just preferred?" 

"Preferred." 

Janus grins. "Hm. I like it." 

"I'd like for you not to damage my hardware." 

"Relax," Janus soothes, as his hands push into Logan's back in two specific spots parallel to each other on his left and right side. The pressure causes Logan's skin in a rectangular shape to sink a bit, before it springs out with a soft hiss. Janus dips his hand underneath the left-hand opening, just barely able to wedge two of his fingers under it, and undoes a latch. This allows him to fully swing the panel open like a door, and reveals Logan's innerworkings beneath. 

There's a metal spine down the center of his back that allows Logan to turn and bend like a typical person, but Janus is able to reach his arms into Logan around it, which immediately has Logan clicking in disapproval. 

"Anything you'd need to look at would be on the screen on the inside of my back panel," Logan states,  though Janus is fully aware of this. "There's no reason for you to be sticking your hands into my body." 

"Physical checkup," Janus reasons, before sitting up on his knees. He places his chin on Logan's shoulder, with his hands sliding up Logan's spine. "You can't exactly see inside your back; how sure are you that everything's still in order? It seems to me that every time Virgil's worked on your system, he's only paid attention to your digital data or reports. When was the last time he made sure there were no exposed wires, twisted circuits, or dented metal?" 

Logan hesitates, before claiming "I think I'd be able to feel if things were damaged." 

Janus's fingers reach back into his innards, and his fingertips lightly caress the thick, black wires braded around thin metal rods, which all formed together into a makeshift ribcage. The action makes Logan bite his lip, an artificial - but incredibly noticeable - flush spreading over his cheeks in an almost cartoonish manner. 

"Careful," Janus murmurs. "We don't want you to overheat, now do we?" 

Logan's fingers tap against his thigh. "No. No, I suppose not." 

"Good. May I check?" 

Logan glances at Janus, knowing full well what Janus means by "check." And yet, he nods. "Only if you're careful." 

"I'll make sure you're still functional afterwards," Janus assures him, before adding "but I can't promise much more than that." 

He kisses Logan's bare shoulder, before leaning back down to poke at Logan's autonomy. Logan's mostly still as Janus's hands explore his insides yet again, but he knows it's only a matter of time before Janus is determining what looks the most fun to play with and decides to pull and push at it. 

And seemingly, the first thing that seems to interest him are the coloured wires, which he runs his fingers over. 

He decides to tease the yellow one first, and pinches the cord lightly, before sliding upwards, and then dragging his fingers downwards, tugging briefly on the wire and making Logan jolt suddenly. 

"Careful!" Logan insists, but his voice glitches as he rubs his hands over his thighs. 

"Trust me," Janus responds, pressing a kiss to the back of Logan's neck. He hears a click, followed by a soft whirring sound as Logan's fans begin, with his outer layer heating up ever so slightly. Janus smiles against Logan's skin.

"Do you secretly like it when I pull on that wire?" Janus asks, as he tugs on that very cord again. This time, Logan hisses, but it's not the reaction Janus wants. So he hums, and runs his fingers over a few others, before stroking the red cord. That has Logan moaning and jolting, his hands gripping the edge of the table they're seated on. 

"Ahh," Janus muses, "I see. You were just waiting for me to find the right wire. This one is fun, but I wonder what the blue one does..." 

Janus again switches wires, and tugs a lot more harshly on the blue one, with something becoming unplugged and Logan's innards sparking. Logan lets out a glitchy cry as Janus rushes to pull his hand out of Logan's back, not wanting to injure himself. 

"Fuck," Janus curses quietly, before setting a hand gently on Logan's upper shoulder. "Are you alright?" 

Logan pants. "You just... unplugged my ethernet port." 

Janus chews his inner cheek. "Do you... do you need that?" 

Logan huffs, turning to glare at Janus over his shoulder, who smiles prettily at Logan's narrow eyes. "You're going to dismantle me someday." 

"I'm going to take that as a 'no.'" Janus grabs the loose cable and ducks a bit to try and figure out the plug the small, cylindrical plug into. He sees the silver ring clear on a small black box up inside Logan's body. Janus reaches up to rub over the port with his finger, making Logan moan softly. "However, I'll be nice. I'll plug it back in for you, so you can... connect to the ethernet." 

"It allows me to tap into the local network in order to access speedy data transmissions," Logan murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as Janus circles the hole with his plug, teasing the very tip of it at the plugs entrance. Janus pushes it in just enough for it to be noticeable, and then pulls it out again, making Logan shudder and stutter as he attempts to continue. "It doesn't... it doesn't do much for me at home, but it's useful for when we're out." 

"Oh yeah? So should I just..." Janus slips the cord in just enough for it to be noticeable, but not fully, edging Logan out of that satisfying click, "not plug this back in, then? It doesn't do anything anyway, right?" 

Logan whines, taking in a shuddering breath that lets Janus watch as small pistons nestled in his faux ribcage pump the air back out. "Please. Plug it in, please." 

Janus smirks, and does just that, and while normally plugging something in wouldn't feel this intense, something about the way Janus speaks or the way he teases his outlet makes it such, and so when Janus fully plugs the ethernet cord in, Logan jolts and sparks, eyes briefly flashing fully white, and moaning outright. Again, Janus has to rush to pull his hand out, before huffing. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to electrocute me." 

Logan pants, arching his back and reaching behind him, as if trying to dig his fingers into his open panel and play with his cords himself. "I'd just be electrocuting us both, in that scenario. I spark because this is unnatural; it's not my fault I wasn't built to be played with."

Humming, Janus's hands circle around Logan's body and run his hands down between Logan's thighs, feeling the straining bulge in his jeans. "What's this for, then?" he asks, while grinding his palm over the area, making Logan squeeze his legs together, unintentionally pushing Janus's hand further against his crotch. 

"Anatomical accuracy," Logan weakly explains, but he knows Janus doesn't care. 

Janus blindly undoes Logan's jeans, struggling briefly with the zipper before he can get it down, and pulls out Logan's cock. 

He was built to be average in terms of size, but sensitive in terms of touch. The purpose of that feature was so that he could touch distinct surfaces and identify what they're made of, but it meant he was also incredibly sensitive to touch from others, especially in areas which weren't normally stimulated. 

Janus strokes his fingers over Logan's cock with little hesitation, before pulling his hands away and peering into Logan's back. 

"Your... fluid compartment... does that connect to your shaft?" 

"Of course it does." 

As Janus's eyes find the small, round-shaped, bag-like compartment, he's delighted to see it's full of a milky white liquid. "Is that for anatomical accuracy as well?"

Logan swallows the nonexistent spit in his mouth. "It is." 

Janus reaches out to touch the compartment, and cringes with fascination and disgust at how it feels. It's like a ball made of nano-tape; just thick enough to hold firm, but malleable when squished. And so, out of morbid curiosity, Janus squishes it.

Perhaps he wasn't thinking about where that fluid would go when squeezed out of its compartment, or maybe he wasn't aware that such an easily overlooked piece of hardware was essentially created to be similar to a human prostate, but either way Janus is incredibly startled when Logan's body jolts as pleasure rushes through him, and he lets out a warped cry as an orgasm is quickly forced out of him before he's ready. 

The sudden excitement has Logan sparking with delight and surprise of his own, and despite having previously been careful to avoid the loose electricity, Janus couldn't possibly have seen this coming. 

A loose wire comes into contact with the back of Janus's hand, and before he can even gasp electricity is coursing through his body, and sending an overload of electricity through Logan's as well as he conducts it through his flesh and back into Logan's hardware. 

The shocking, the pain, and the pleasure last for mere seconds before Janus is pulling away, but it's just long enough for them to both fall of the table in opposite directions. 

Janus falls onto his backside near Logan's wall. Logan falls forward onto his chest across from him. 

Struggling to catch his breath, Janus holds his hand and turns to look at Logan, who's laying limp. Immediately, he freaks out. Sure, he's human, and that much electricity could be dangerous, but Logan was a fucking machine. He's not supposed to be electrocuted; Janus could have seriously damaged him!

As Janus moves to stand up, he realizes he's hard in his pants, and curses at the poor timing as he circles the table and drops to his knees beside Logan. His pants land in a sticky mess of Logan's artificial come, and he cringes, but attempts to ignore his disgust in favor of flipping Logan over, closing his back panel in the process. 

Logan's eyes are shut, but when Janus slides his eyelids up, he sees that his eyes are completely black. 

Filled with a rush of anxiety, Janus reaches his hand around to the back of Logan's neck, and feels a button at the base of his hairline, which he presses and holds down, praying that it starts to glow. 

And thankfully, it does.

There's a small power-up tune that plays as the button on the back of Logan's neck flashes, before Logan's eyes are slowly blinking open. They shift from solid black to bright wide, and then with a few more blinks blue irises are forming, swirling around like a loading screen before solidifying with a black pupil. 

Logan stares blankly for a minute, before his face heats up into an embarrassed flush. 

"Sorry," he mumbles, as Janus helps him sit up. 

"Sorry?" Janus repeats, in disbelief. "I'm the one who should be apologizing! Are you... hurt in any way?" 

"No."

"Are you sure?" 

Janus's hands reach for Logan's face, but Logan grabs his wrists and causes him to stop short. Logan's eyes flicker away from Janus, before settling back on him as he admits "I shut myself down." 

"What?!" Janus frowns and smacks Logan's shoulder. "You're not funny. The others would have never let me hear the end of it if I'd damaged you!" 

Logan clears his throat. "I could feel a server overload coming due to the electricity and so shut myself down in order to reprogram myself and install better hardware. It's still processing, but it should finish in a couple minutes." 

"Better hardware?" 

Logan stretches his arm out, wiggles his fingers, and then circles his arm around, testing his mobility. "Yes. Better hardware. Obviously a surplus amount of electricity can cause physical damage, but I'm fairly resilient. My main concern would be my hard drives or servers becoming overwhelmed and either corrupting or frying them altogether. So... I installed a few failsafes." 

"Such as...?" 

"I lowered my electricity output temporarily," Logan begins, listing items off the top of his head, "both for my benefit, and yours-" 

Janus looks away at the implication he'd be reaching back into Logan's insides. 

"I downloaded some protection agencies that increase my server's abilities to withstand extreme stress, I copied and uploaded some of my most important assets to the cloud, I ran a diagnostic and made sure no permanent damage was done, and reprogrammed myself to shut down in the event of extreme electric damage so that neither of us would be killed if that intense of a shock were to happen again." 

Staring blankly at Logan, Janus clasps his hands together. "So... we're good to resume?" 

Logan sighs, but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Yes; if you so desire." 

And Janus does so desire, and so flips Logan back over without warning, where Logan obediently stays on his hands and knees. He lets Janus push his chest against the ground and flip his back panel open once more, and tries to keep his body from overheating when he feels Janus's bulge push against his clothed ass. 

"Your fans flicked on again," Janus comments, as his hands plunge back into Logan's innards. He feels wind blow over his scales and shivers, but is more than amused at how quickly they were activated. 

"It's a precaution," Logan murmurs, visibly embarrassed. 

Janus leans over Logan, grinding his hard cocks over Logan's backside and groaning into his ear, before Janus searches for a new item inside of Logan to play with. He pokes the small compartment, though now it's lacking fluid. While that means no more mess, Janus suspects that Logan won't mind having a dry orgasm or two. 

Logan lets out a shaky breath as Janus's fingers rub over his ribcage, his spine, and then back down to his wires, some hanging looser than others. Briefly, Janus's fingers rub over an unused outlet - fit for a hard drive, if Logan ever needed to transfer outside information to his servers - and it makes Logan moan outright. 

"I've heard of plugs being used during sex, but you take it to a whole new level," Janus teases, as his other hand tugs firmly on an intertwined group of wires, which makes Logan suddenly cry out, arching his chest against the floor. Janus grinds his thumb more purposefully over the empty socket. "Maybe I'll download some of Remus's porn onto a hard drive and plug it into you without warning. Would you like that? If I overwhelmed your intellectual technology with graphic, defiling content?" 

Despite Logan's typical stoic behavior, he actually pushes his forehead against the floor as he moans out "yes." His voice is glitchy and quiet, and it causes Janus to let out a shuddering breath of his own as he ruts his hips against Logan's ass. 

As Janus's hand continues to slide against the open plug in the lower right hand side of Logan's back, his other caresses the wires up to where they disappear into a black box. And so, he slides it back down to a circuit board, which he is gentle when touching despite Logan beeping in surprise as Janus's fingers tap against it.

"Careful!" Logan again exclaims, though he sounds more excited than anything. "That's fragile!" 

Janus grinds harder against Logan's ass at just how cute he sounds. "I am careful," he assures Logan, while pushing his longer thumb nails into both the plug and the circuit board. 

Little flickers of electricity bounce off the circuit board, shocking Janus once or twice, but it's significantly tamer compared to what he's already experienced. And with Logan's little jolts and whimpers, Janus can assume he's feeling the shocks too.

But what Logan's really amazed by is how foreign and obviously wrong the protrusion of Janus's nail is into his outlet, and the scratching of his circuit board, and yet... he's getting off on this technological malpractice. 

Everything that Janus is doing to him is unique. New. And so Logan desperately tries to record and memorize the strange way it feels. However, the light touches also allows Logan to breathe - both metaphorically, and artificially. In this brief respite, Logan's reminded that he's pathetically hard due to the weight of his cock hanging between his legs. He knows his fluid compartment is empty, but that doesn't negate his ability to have an orgasm, and he knows Janus will going to push him to his limit again and again and again if he so desires. 

Embarrassed, Logan hides his face in the floor, picturing how lewd and unprofessional he's being. He must look like some sort of sexbot! But before he can complain, Janus is dipping his face into Logan's panel, and lightly blowing air over his circuit board, causing Logan to gasp as his head shoots up in surprise. 

He tries to crane his head back to look at Janus, who just grins at him in response and grinds a little harder, reminding Logan that Janus is also getting off on toying with him like he's some sort of do-it-yourself robot kit. 

Logan opens his mouth to complain, but nothing comes out. Still though, Janus playfully explains "I thought I saw a speck of dust," lying right through his teeth. His words however have Logan whining anyway, and Janus draws a particularly loud noise from him when he begins to snake his fingers around a couple wires. 

Even the faintest of touches make him moan and shut his eyes, submissively pushing his face back into the ground as Janus messes with him. 

"What-" Logan starts, but his voice abruptly glitches and cuts out, making him flush and focus for a moment on steadying himself. After clearing his throat, he tries again, and asks "what are you doing?" 

Janus just smiles. "I think I see a few tangled wires..." he says, as both of his hands move to a cluster of them. Feeling Janus's fingers caress the cords makes Logan gasp, only for him to moan when Janus begins to carefully pluck and untwist a set that were indeed wrapped around each other. They're guided out of sockets in order to be looped through the meshed cables, and then re-plugged in such smooth tandem that Logan's never given a break to catch his breath. 

He's touching multiple wires for a prolonged amount of time, gently maneuvered back to where Janus believes they should be, even if it doesn't affect their ability to function at all. 

And Logan repeatedly moans and groans as Janus continues to slide the wires past each other, rubbing them against other cords and in-between his own warm, fleshy fingers. Logan's noises increase in pitch the longer Janus touches, and raise in volume the firmer his caresses get. 

And while Janus takes his time initially in playing with Logan, he can't help but become impatient at the lack of pleasure he's feeling himself, and so grabs Logan's wires more tightly - almost as leverage - while he grinds harder against him, moaning into Logan's back panel and breathing over his sensitive hardware. 

A click is heard followed by Logan's internal fans whirring slightly louder, as though they've increased in intensity and kicked into high-gear, and Janus can't help but laugh softly as he rests his forehead against the side of Logan's back - teetering on the edge of his synthetic flesh and Logan's exposed innards.

"Feeling hot?" Janus teases, before his forked tongue licks across the rim of the panel's opening. That has Logan crying out; the power button on the back of his neck flashing excitedly. Janus raises his eyebrow as he looks at it. 

"Is this draining your battery?" he asks, and watches Logan slump in humiliation, as pleasure rushes through his body as Janus continues to twirl his wires around like they're fidget toys for his amusement. "My, we might just have to leave you plugged in all night to recuperate after this!" Janus's fingers pull out of Logan's panel, sliding over his inner walls before leaving entirely, and instead move to circle around his charging port on his lower back. 

Lightly, Janus rubs his pointer finger over it, and that's all it takes. 

Logan's gasping, crying and glitching - his moans a stuttering cacophony of different sound bites and start-up noises, all mixed in with his artificial breathing and the differing noises spilling from his back. His charging port sparks and the electricity catches Janus again, shocking him more intensely this time, but he moans against Logan and just presses his finger harder against it, rubbing it feverishly against the outlet as Logan's worked through a dry orgasm before he lays limply on the ground, wonderfully overstimulated and burnt out (literally). 

Janus smiles as he moves his hand away from Logan's port, and spends the next minute or so humping against Logan's ass before he comes in his own pants with a soft moan, and then closes Logan's back panel before falling against him. However, the constant light from Logan's flashing power button bothers him, and so he pulls away. 

"You really should plug yourself in," Janus comments, as he helps Logan to his feet. 

Logan struggles to stand for a moment, mumbling "hold on... recalibrating balance settings..." while trying to get his loose cock back into his jeans, before he falls over onto his metal table chest-first.

He lays against it limply, and thanks Janus after the latter struggles to lift Logan's heavy form fully onto the surface. 

Janus circles around Logan to his wall outlet, where he takes Logan's charger into his hand and promptly plugs it in. Logan whines, as though he's still sensitive, but his power light glows happily at being plugged in. Janus leans against the table and sighs. 

"How are you feeling?" 

Logan turns his head to the side, so he can speak without sounding muffled. "Fine. I don't think anything's permanently damaged." 

Janus huffs out a laugh. "That's a relief." 

"Knowing you? I agree." 

Janus smacks Logan's lower thigh playfully, before focusing on his breathing for a moment. Logan's rhythmic, synthetic breathes contrast greatly to Janus's more irregular exhales, but there's both visibly pleased, albeit a tad messy. He'll get himself cleaned up after catching his breath, and he supposes that when he's done with a bath he'll come wipe Logan down. He'll even be extra careful! He's sure Logan will appreciate it. 

[ilexdiapason]

(part one here) (part three here)

(CW: character experiences a severe derealization episode)

“D’you want me to order pizza?” Oli asks, somewhat redundantly, because Martyn is twenty-two (according to the police report) and a gamer, of course he’s not gonna turn down free pizza.

“Oh, god, yeah,” says Martyn. And, a second later - “Please.”

He fires up the Domino’s website obediently, pulls up the deals and picks one that’ll leave him some leftovers for when Martyn’s long gone tomorrow. Meateor for himself, as usual, and then he spins the laptop round on his knees to present Martyn with the options. “What are you having?”

Martyn stares at the screen, unblinking, for a few too many seconds.

“... Something wrong?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, no, just. Um. Been a while.”

“D’you just want a margherita, then? Keep it easy?”

“No, I don’t - I was -” he grimaces, shakes his head roughly, and thumbs at the fabric of his shirt where the tea stain sits “- trying to remember what I liked.”

“Vegetarian?”

“No,” Martyn responds immediately.

“Olives? Mushrooms?”

“I’m not picky -”

“Pineapple on pizza?”

Martyn snorts. “Okay, yeah, I don’t much like pineapple on anything, I’ll give you that.”

“But as a concept.”

“No problem with it.”

“Then, Marty, my friend, you’ve lost the plot.”

He sits another moment, deliberating. Then - “Sweetcorn.”

“Yeah?”

“I like sweetcorn on pizza.”

“Alright,” says Oli, and spins the laptop round again to check the options. “Vegi Supreme or Chicken Feast?”

“I’ll take the chicken,” Martyn says, resolute.

Oli sends the order through, with potato wedges on the side, because it’s his money and he’s gonna pick the extra items for the deal. Then, once the little order tracker with the fake AI has popped up and started telling him stupid jokes to amuse him for the next 25 minutes or so, he turns back to look at Martyn. “Can I ask something?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Ask what?”

“And you don’t need to tell me if it’s, like, personal or whatever, just… what were you eating? If you haven’t seen pizza in however long?”

Martyn makes a face. “Whatever, honestly. It wasn’t a big worry for me - I mean, not like I could - yeah, it was just whatever. Not dead yet, so I’m clearly not malnourished.”

Oli cocks his head. “Whatever like whatever you were given, or whatever like you were scavenging?”

“Like - uh - like - I mean, I wouldn’t say scavenging, that’s - like whatever I could find? I know I’m not explaining this very clearly, it’s -”

“No, no, I said you didn’t need to tell me! Don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.” (It’s not like Oli doesn’t want to know, but he doesn’t need to know if it’s going to make Martyn uncomfortable to explain it.)

“Anyway. It wasn’t bad, it was just… y’know how Covid makes it so you can’t taste anything? Little bit like that.”

“Original Covid did. I don’t know about all the new variants.”

“Ah, yeah, heard about those! Did they ever run out of Greek letters?”

“Don’t think so, thank goodness.”

“Yeah,” Martyn nods.

Beside Oli, the little Domino’s robot lets him know that their pizzas are now going in the oven.

It feels odd, to be sitting here on the sofa, taking an extended lunch break with somebody who he’s only known from Minecraft servers and scratchy in-game prox chat. It feels odd to know that he’s doing hospitality for a man six or seven years younger than him, a friend who’s never answered out-of-character about himself before today. It feels odd to know that he’s actually looking at the real Martyn - not some rat, not some pirate, just… some guy.

Oli swallows and steels himself for what he’s about to say. “Erm - again. Don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But… besides this whole Doc thing, what was your life like? Your normal life?”

Martyn’s expression flips into something unreadable for a second, then mellows again into neutrality. “Yeah, uh - nothing special, really. Born and raised in Nottingham, did alright at school, got the grades for uni but I ended up deferring. I was trying to get a job in my gap year but I didn’t really wanna end up behind the counter at GAME or McDonald’s or anything, and nowhere else ever got back to my applications, so… spent a lot of time at home, playing video games. No girlfriend, no mates who really stuck after college; not much worth writing home about. I wasn’t much of anything, really, not then.”

Oli is, he decides, going to ignore the implications of that comment. “Family?”

“Mum, dad, sister who’s been moved out for a few years. Dog. Oh, I hope he’s still alive, that’d suck if I never see my dog again.”

“Fingers crossed,” says Oli.

“What about you? What’s the home life of OrionSound like, when he’s not at the computer?”

“Oh, Marty, my entire life is at the computer,” he quips. “I work in software development. I actually did my degree in psychology, but you’d be surprised, there’s not a lot of room in the market unless you’ve done a load of other certifications as well. I guess I could have got a therapy licence, but as it turned out, I’d spent enough time in first year making terrible visual novels that by the time I got into the workforce I technically knew how to code. AI snapping at our heels now, of course, but it’s probably gonna eat itself by Christmas, so I’m not too worried about that.”

“I dunno,” says Martyn, “I’ve seen some pretty advanced AI.”

“So, yeah. I spent a few years freelancing, contracting for one place or another - I’m quick, which people seem to like, although that’s mostly so I can get back to gaming as soon as possible. And then… like two and a bit years ago? Yeah, would’ve been two years this past July… then I got a really nice position at CHESTCorp, it’s mostly remote work, I drive down to London every few months so they can “review my performance in a controlled environment”, whatever that means, and they pay well enough that I can afford this place on my own, which is -”

Oli stops talking when he notices Martyn’s face has gone white as a sheet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I knew it,” Martyn murmurs.

“What?”

“I knew it,” he says again, stronger, “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, I knew you - I thought - he told me this would happen, I’ve seen it happen, I should’ve just learned from my mistakes the fucking first time, but clearly I’m stupid.”

“Marty, what are you -”

“Didn’t wanna believe this shit could follow me out here, but evidently it - oh. Oh, no, no, you fucking - it’s not over, is it? I’m still - that’s why nobody picked up the phone, it wasn’t real, you couldn’t synthesise my mother’s voice, I’d know! You’re CHEST, of course you’re CHEST, the one person I thought - I mean, I hoped - you’re fucking cruel, is what this is, it’s cruel, and you’re not fooling me twice. Don’t know how you got the food this realistic, but -”

“Martyn,” Oli tries to interrupt, “are you okay?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Martyn says through gritted teeth. “You’ve given the game away now, CHEST agent. Should’ve known it wasn’t real. Should’ve known I couldn’t get out that easy. Or you caught up before I got out, one of you fuckers, planted something, or - I don’t know, made me think I was finally out of this stupid place. Made me think it was fine so I’d start giving up secrets. Well, you’re not getting another word out of me, you fucking idiot. Some interrogation room you’ve got here, huh? This your best simulation? Get a better model for your TV, I’ll tell you that for free, the reflection’s too smooth.”

Well. Er. “Martyn,” he tries again, “I think you might be having a flashback?”

“Nothing back about it, you bastard. Giving me false hope like that. Thank god I don’t actually know Doc’s name, or you’d have been able to track him too, wouldn’t you? Fuck you. Don’t ever bring my family into this again, any of you.”

“Okay,” Oli says slowly, rifling through his psychology knowledge for grounding techniques, “you think this isn’t real, right now?”

“I know it isn’t real,” Martyn spits, “and it’s getting worse the more I’m poking at it. See, look -” he stomps a foot at the floor “- you’re losing resolution trying to keep it running.”

The carpet, which has not changed and is certainly not lower resolution than it was when they got here, endures being scuffed at. Oli doesn’t want to actually lay a hand on Martyn right now, though; he’s got a bad feeling that’ll end in something much worse than being kicked. Instead he dips into the kitchen across the room, pops an ice cube out of the tray faster than he’s ever needed to, and brings it back over to the sofa. “Here,” he says, chucking it at Martyn’s lap, “that real enough for you?”

Martyn catches the projectile reflexively. He stills, silent, both hands cupped around the ice cube, staying in the air.

Then, gradually, his eyes unfocused… his arms lower.

He opens them and stares down at the piece of ice in his palm, and, slowly and almost imperceptibly, begins to rock forward.

The Domino’s tracker chimes again. Their food has finished cooking, and it’s being delivered by Amal. Oli almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Whatever Martyn’s running from, it must go a lot deeper than he thought.

(part five here)

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Hello!!

Soooo I've been thinking of my glorious days of writing back in 2020

And like. Yeah I write now too but nothing like what I did then right. Like I literally wrote nearly 250k words in 2020 alone according to my ao3 stats, and that's 5 times what I wrote last year.

So I was thinking back on those days as one does, and I think one of the things that helped me write as much as I did (apart from the endless free time) was this server I was in, where I'd share all the ideas I got and even received some from the other people there, and it was this very nice cesspool of creativity.

Anyways this is probably going to end in yet another dead server in my discord but atleast I can say I tried- I made a discord server for Malec writers!!

It's 2:00 am here and I'm immediately going to sleep after this, so don't mind if you join in and it's all crickets. If you do join, see you in like 8 hours <3