#also yeah sorry I have asks temporarily disabled for reasons

[lizardthelizard]

@lovecanbesostrange WAIT but I missed/forgot about this (is this when she's talking to Belle at the hospital..?) Please, they absolutely should have given her a call 😭 Ruby meeting Nemo would have been a very strange (but potentially funny little/interesting) interaction!

[ningningsplushie]

The Cute Barista

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Word count: 2263

Genre: Pastel cafe?? Jimin being a comforting person :3

Summary: Your favourite barista has moved away and in her place is the ever charming Park Jimin. Can he comfort you just the same?

Warnings: Cringey pick up line (rip but it fit well with the story), stressed and upset reader

After a long day, a trip to the cafe was exactly what she needed. Classes were kicking her ass, what with essays, assignments, and presentations piling up on the daily, not to mention her trying to keep up with work and her own personal life. A calming sit-down, with a nice book, along with her favourite barista, Hwa Young, would surely cheer her up. 

Opening the door to the cafe, the smell of brownies and buttercream frosting immediately wafts up her nose. The overall atmosphere of the place, with its pastel pinks walls and baby blue trimming, its bubbly aura due to the dainty display of desserts, large windows, and sweet jazz music instantly calms Y/N after a hectic day. 

Walking up to the cash register, she realizes that Hwa Young isn’t at her usual station, neither is she wiping down the tables or serving customers. 

She spots a blond boy standing in place of her favourite barista and decides to ask for her whereabouts. “Excuse me, I was wondering where Hwa Young was?”

The boy looks up from the till and gives her a warming grin, cheeks almost covering his eyes. My, he’s really handsome. Handsome, however, was an understatement. His face had an innocent, boyish charm to it, with large, honest eyes, plump lips with a subtle cupid’s bow, and a soft jaw. 

“I suppose you’re in the dark about her.” Hearing this, Y/N grows worried and the boy sees this. “Oh don’t worry,” he scrambles, panicking for frightening her, “she just moved to Japan for university. She left just last week.” 

She left? Crestfallen, Y/N looks to the ground. Damn, I was really looking forward to seeing her. “Really? It’s just...she has a really comforting aura and it was something I needed right now. I suppose I won’t be getting that ever again, if not ever again.” 

Y/N realizes her mistake of oversharing and clasps a hand over her mouth with wide eyes. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. The last thing you need right now is for a stranger telling you her problem.” 

The new barista chuckles, “It’s alright, my sister was a big help to a lot of people so I understand.”

“Yeah, she- wait. Sister? She was your sister?” Y/N squeaks out.

“Is, not was. She’s still here with us, just far away. But yeah, after she left I decided to take her place here to help our mom run the cafe.” 

“That’s sweet of you…” finding no reason to stay any longer she decides to leave, picking up her wallet from the counter. “Anyways, I’ve got to go, but uhhh, thank you for telling me about your sister. Have a nice day-” she reads the boy’s name tag. “Jimin. I’ll be going now.”

Just as she’s about to turn, Y/N feels a grip on her wrist, disabling her from leaving. Jimin looks at his hold on Y/N and quickly lets go. 

“Listen, I know you’re not exactly in the best of moods right now and I know I’m not my sister but please, stay and give yourself a rest.”

She considers his comment for a moment before turning back to him and offering a tight-lipped smile. 

“Alright. I’ll have a medium honey latte, please,” she says, offering Jimin money for her order. 

Taking the money from her, he gives a mock salute, chest puffing out. “Coming right up, Miss.” 

Y/N can’t help but giggle at his gesture, hands going up to cover her smile.

“Yeahhhh! That’s what we like to hear. My goodness, if I knew your smile was this bright, I never would have bothered to change the light bulbs in the chandeliers.” Jimin puts his arms out as if protecting himself from a bright flash and at this, Y/N laughs some more. Giving the barista some more material, he pretends to swoon, resting the back of his on his forehead. “Wow, wow, wow. I might as well just shut off our radio too. Your laugh sounds much nicer.”

Y/N blushes, earning a “cute,” from Jimin but then composes herself. “Call me Y/N, please.”

Nodding, he begins tinkering with the espresso machine. “Y/N, I might not be as comforting as my sister but I’m certainly more charming and cuter than her, aren’t I?” throwing a wink to the girl. 

Y/N rolls her eyes and replies, “You guys share half of the same DNA.”

“That’s true but my DNA gave me the upper hand in looks.” Y/N couldn’t deny that. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips, how they formed when he smiles, or the position they were in whenever he pouted whilst concentrating. 

“Alright, one medium honey latte for Y/N,” he whoops, placing the porcelain cup before her. 

“Thank you so much.” Taking a sip from her drink, she closes her eyes in pure bliss, the warmth of the latte spreading throughout her body. 

“How is it? Is it too sweet? I think I might have put too much sweetener in it so-”

“It’s perfect,” Y/N sighs, opening her eyes once more. 

He gives a proud smile and pats his head. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll leave you alone now, let you decompress for a while.”

“Thank you for everything… for being so patient and kind. I appreciate it,” Y/N says, gazing out the window. 

“A little kindness never anybody. I just hope I made your day somewhat better.”

“You definitely did.”

 And with that, Jimin leaves the girl alone, moving on to his own barista duties of washing the dishes, clearing tables, and taking the orders of a few people who wanted a kick of caffeine. It was close to the evening which meant that the cafe was nearly empty, something Y/N found most agreeable as it allowed her to enjoy the soft music playing through the speakers while enjoying her recent read. For about thirty minutes or so, Y/N was enjoying her novel whilst sipping occasionally on her latte, and at that moment, she was finally at peace. Here, she was able to temporarily forget about school, work, and her general stresses in life. All that mattered was her tranquility, the porcelain cup sitting ahead of her, and the cast of characters splayed out in her book. Y/N realizes that her brow had loosened, curing her blistering headache ever since she stepped foot into the shop, especially since she talked to Jimin. 

Leaving all her worries aside, Y/N gazes out the window and ponders. Everything is so beautiful right now, what with the snow gently falling and families walking hand in hand, she thought. It’s a shame I can’t fully enjoy life with all my stress plaguing my thoughts. I should just enjoy it while it lasts. 

It didn’t last long, that is, only because Jimin came over with a fresh piece of what appeared to be strawberry shortcake. He places the plate in front of Y/N and leaves with a simple, “Bon appetit.”

“Hey wait! I didn’t order this.” she rushes to her feet to return the cake. 

Jimin comes back, pushing Y/N by her shoulders so she’d sit back down. “I know you didn’t. But you can’t drink something on an empty stomach,” he urges, nudging the cake towards her and turning back around once again. 

With her mouth shaped into an O’, she reaches for her wallet to pay for the dessert but before she can do so, Jimin, with his back towards Y/N, protests, “don’t even think of paying for the cake. It’s on the house.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly eat this without paying. Besides, won’t you get in trouble?” 

“You can, and you will,” he affirms, now facing Y/N, slinging the rag over his shoulder, adding with, “plus, what’s the worst my mom can do? Not feed me Jjajangmyeon for two weeks? I can survive.”

Warily, Y/N begins to stab the fork into the cake before venturing with a meek, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he declares, giving her a warm smile that makes her want to eat the cake all the more, wanting to see his smile once more. “Also, I uhhhh,” Jimin stammers, “I wanted to give it to you cuz uhhh...it m-matches your sweater vest,” he declares, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment from his statement. 

Confused, Y/N looks down at herself. As per usual, she was in a rush to attend her first lecture of the day and just threw on the first thing her eyes met, which was a pink, strawberry printed sweater vest over a white button-up. Wait. He just gave me a slice of cake because it matched my vest. How much cuter can this guy get? With a blush creeping up her face, she shoved a piece of the cake in her mouth, and in an instant, her tense shoulders dropped, like a weight lifted off of them. The sweetness and acidity of the strawberries coated her tongue but was soon covered by the velvety taste of the buttercream frosting. 

“Wow Jimin, this is...absolutely delicious.” 

He hums, “I’m glad you think so. I’ll be sure to tell my mom.” 

“Yeah, you def- wait. Your mom?” Y/N interjects, mouth full of cake.

Jimin takes a napkin from the dispenser and wipes the frosting from the corner of her mouth and asks, “Did you really think I was the one who made the cake? You overestimate me, my dear friend,” he leans in closer to Y/N, lips frighteningly close to her ear and whispers, “I appreciate the sentiment though.” He pulls back and winks at her, hair falling over his eyes. “I just thought it befitting to feed you something as sweet as yourself.” 

Shocked at his boldness, Y/N goes back to eating her cake, not quite sure how to respond to him, especially since she was turning redder and redder by the second and it feels like her tongue had been swallowed. 

“Cute,” Jimin chuckles, going back to washing the dishes. 

By the time Y/N finished eating, the sun had set and it was closing time, leaving only Jimin and Y/N to be the only two in the shop. She looked at the time and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Oh god, I’ve got to get going. I’ve got to wake up early tomorrow.” 

Y/N scrambles to gather her items in her bag, her book, her phone, her wallet and is about to zoom out the door before she hears Jimin calling her name. 

“Y/N hold up! You forgot something.” Bewildered, lets go of her hold on the door handle, and looks to the boy. 

“Come here,” he beckons for Y/N to come closer. 

Walking closer to the counter, Y/N has her hand reached out for him to place whatever it is she left behind. Jimin, placing something unbelievably small in her palm, smiles bright, cheeks overcoming his eyes. She looks down and sees a single Hershey’s chocolate kiss. Y/N looks back to Jimin for an explanation and what he says next throws her off completely.

“Hershey factories make millions of kisses a day, but I’m asking for only one...perhaps after our first date?” 

Y/N is silent for a few beats as she registers his cheesy pickup line. Jimin, panicking, quickly regrets his words and goes to take back the kiss but is stopped when Y/N doubles over, shoulders shaking. 

Concerned, the barista walks around the counter and puts his arms around Y/N, scared that he triggered what he thought were waterworks. “Y/N...I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” But then he hears laughter, belly-aching laughter, one that Jimin wants to hear all the time. 

For a good minute, Y/N is hunched over, cackling while Jimin lets out small giggles but then ceases her laughter, wiping her tears away, and looks towards Jimin. “Wow, thank you for making me laugh like that. I haven’t done that for so long.”

Jimin frowns, “I’m happy I made you laugh but are you laughing at me or with me?”

“With you, I’d never laugh at you, especially since you made me feel so much better today,” Y/N replies. 

“Oh thank God,” he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “So about that date...would you like to go out with me? I know it’s weird since we just met today but I heard a lot about you from Hwa Young and-and I always wanted to see what you were like. Our paths crossed and I didn’t want to give this moment up.”

Y/N considered how much of an impact he had on her in just one day and thought what it would be like being with him every day. She knew she’d feel tremendously better. As of now, she’s felt more comfortable than she had for a long while. Being around him reminded her of all the beautiful things she’s failed to notice and allowed her to feel like herself once more. If being around him felt like this, she never wanted it to end. His presence comforted Y/N and made her feel right at home. She definitely wasn’t going to turn him down. 

“I’d love nothing more than to go out with you. But you better not break that promise of a kiss.”

Brushing a small strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, he replies with, “Oh, I promise.”

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

i’m an idiot. i screw everything up.

Titans 3.03

still here, still doing this. these reviews take a fair bit of time that i cobble together across days (like, ten minute chunks during breaks, etc) and i tend to struggle to keep up with episodes as they come out. this means that by the time i’m done with one, most of my stuff is jossed (or geoffed in this case? idk) or outdated and the post sinks like a stone into oblivion. so! i’m going to change things up a bit with this one and write as i see the episode rather than collecting my thoughts later. in my experience with spn, that was a faster way to get them done. 

anyway. let’s see how it goes! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS ahead.

1. an auspicious start with some grave-digging!

digging up a grave and breaking open a coffin is some serious, back-breaking work--that dick did it on his own, likely straight after that fight with red hood, is a testament to the sheer intensity, stamina and discipline that he’s capable of. like, we like to joke about dick cooking cauliflower crust pizzas and making gar and rachel spar and memorise sun tzu--and despair at the obvious consequences of some of bruce’s parenting skills--but imagine crime-fighting almost daily without any superpowers, performing some of the most intense parkour in bulky, uncomfortable armour, doing detective work, pushing through every last barrier of exhaustion and then getting up to repeat it all over again the next day. dick probably thought he was going extra-easy on rachel and gar.

1.5. then again, dick probably had a hundred different easier ways to confirm whether jason was still buried or not, from using equipment to merely asking connor to have a quick look with his x-ray vision. but, no, he’s too caught up in confusion and terror, not really having come to terms with jason’s death in the first place, leave alone the possibility that he could be alive after all. he can’t possibly let the others know until he’s confirmed it himself, even if it means digging all through the night until his arms are jelly, thinking over and over again about jason’s eyes, jason’s voice, from behind that red mask. 

... besides, dick has good reason to believe that he could’ve been hallucinating. wouldn’t be his first psychotic episode, after all.

that just imbues this sweaty, desperate, fingers-scrabbling-in-gravedirt scene with that much more poignancy, and a fair bit of bone-chilling terror. dick is horrified to realise that jason’s grave is empty, but a part of him is also probably relieved.

1.75 (... also it’s curious that we’re never shown any of the team asking to see jason’s grave after they come to wayne manor. i guess it’s because the writers--and the audience--know that jason is actually alive, but these people don’t know that. i don’t know if it’s sad or infuriating or both that they’re barely shown mourning him.)

2. oh GOD the sheer TENSION in kory saying, “i don’t want to say it, but--” and dick quickly interrupting, “it was jason. i saw him,” and hank giving him this loaded sidelong glance. i love how dick’s precarious mental health from last season is still this big elephant in the room but at least nobody’s blowing up in his face and questioning his every decision yet

2.25. i love the relative matter-of-factness with which they’re discussing a possible resurrection. and, of course, ra’s al ghul is brought up and quickly dismissed

(still wouldn’t put it past this show to bring him up at the very last second as the real real mastermind)

2.5. “maybe they can bring donna back” OH KORY

2.75. didn’t they have this same conversation about killing/not killing rose last season? man, the og titans make me tired.

and i don’t know if it’s just hank, but there’s a definite in-group/out-group vibe going on with the og titans, where they’re not only ready to consider killing anybody who threatens the group but makes it difficult for new people to fit in. donna and kory got along well with each other, but the dynamics between hank/donna/dawn and gar/rachel/rose were somewhat strained, and with jason, they were really fucking terrible. it makes sense when you think about how the titans started and how they broke up the first time--both were fairly disruptive events, i’d imagine, in that they probably got together to break away from their mentors and strike out on their own, and when they split up, it was the first time they felt directly responsible for the loss of an innocent life.

but the titans that dick is leading now is explicitly about mentoring a young generation of heroes, about second chances and found family. dick definitely wants to reach out to him first, and i have a feeling he’s going to be forced to make some sort of terrible Choice later on in this episode. 

2.8. (honestly tho, this also seems like hank struggling with his own guilt re: jason; if red hood is not the kid that he failed, it’d be easier to fight him.)

3.

HANK NO

4. honestly this season is already ticking off so many things on my wishlist, but i really wish dick would sit down with the newer members of his team and trust them with important information the same time that he’s telling them to the other members. gar searching for help and reassurance from a man who just dumped all of his responsibilities on his son overnight and went AWOL is a sad sight

4.25. has it only been just 48 hours????? wow! jason’s definitely been planning the red hood gig for a long time now...

5. ezekiel, my man! shady looking guy gets into your cab without a destination in mind... no problem, get right in! said guy gets a call to go to the observatory when he’s barely even looked out of the window so far at gotham... yep, a damn tourist! i want more ezekiel in this show.

5.25. (of course jason has upturned table lamps all along the floor... we have to *gritted teeth* balance the TEAL with the ORANGE don’t we?)

5.5. “dick’s a fucking psycho--he could be following you right now.” hank... has no objection to that lol

5.25. hank, hank... this is bad-decision-palooza. i can’t imagine that hank actually thought that jason was reaching out to him for help, given that the last time hank and jason had any substantial interaction hank had been one of the people accusing jason of sabotaging the team. but for him to go seek out jason and go along with his demands without any backup, weapons or equipment? not the best idea he’s ever come up with.

(add to that getting into the swimming pool of a condemned gym... oh yuck.)

((yes, i have enough self-restraint to not cap his ass.))

(((cap his ass! HA!)))

5.5. do you think jason has bugs/monitoring equipment planted in wayne manor to monitor the titans, or remote access to the cave’s systems? wouldn’t put it past him.

6. oh man, hank came back before dick and the others could meet ezekiel! this is TRAGIC

6.25. i mean, it’s plot-convenient that connor was able to give so much information about the bomb from just looking at it once, but i also like to think it’s the luthor-side of him coming to the fore. it also reminds me of that (in)famous scene from the new52 run of Nightwing comics, where a bomb was attached to nightwing’s heart and luthor disabled it by killing nightwing (temporarily). it’s a neat little callback. 

6.55. “where i come from, you go after family? there’s no mercy.” BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM ISN’T IT

6.75. i mean, dick’s making sense: this is a game, and they need to get it off playing out on jason’s terms. but having a member of his team in his face, doubting his reasoning and every decision? a very familiar sight. 

6.8. krypto with an a+ sense of humour? also a very familiar sight.

7. wayne enterprises... providing the military with... bombs that can be implanted in humans? a BIIIIG yikes. i guess it’s not too many steps above developing clandestine intra-dermal trackers and implanting them in your own sons, and bruce probably thought they could be used as part of negotiation tactics, but still... YIKES.

7.5. on the other hand, conner being asked to build a deactivation advice seems part of a growth arc that started from last season... he knows so much, but part of growing is learning, and part of learning is using what you know to create something new.

8. oh man, my heart broke at hank going “i’m an idiot... i screw everything up.” like. for him to go like this, after being brought down to such a low last season? struggling with pain and addiction and his relationship with the love of his life? it’s so sad.

9. oh, oh, oh! ronnie from schitt’s creek! i love her!

9.5. “one of jason’s minions” took his body out of the morgue... how deliciously morbid that he planned out his own death like this!

10. TALK TO HANK, DICK

honestly, tho, i’m quite impressed with dick here. trying to think beyond just the most alarming part of the crisis at hand, keeping his cool, delegating tasks, frequently touching base with different members of his team... well done. 

10.25.... whoops, spoke too soon. i’m genuinely confused here, tho. where did the van full of gold bars come from? why did they stop there and get out? how did dawn even know about this?

on the other hand, it’s cool to know dove has bulletproof feathers!

10.5. eh... curran walters isn’t really selling red hood’s menace to me so far. but then again, if titans version of red hood is vulnerable-kid-with-father-issues-trying-to-overcompensate, then yeah! yeah, it makes sense. 

11. “when bats have sex, they gotta have something to hang from” OH GOD HANK

... because i want smiley!gar on my blog :)

11.5. awww. i feel sorry for hank but NONE of these fuckers deserve gar except maybe kory

12. ohhh FUCK! look at jason being exactly one step ahead of the titans at every turn. nice.

no really, i love the building stakes and the building mystery - i feel like the deathstroke arc from last season should’ve been more like this. the flashbacks about jericho and rose came too late and after too much build up, which resulted in a very underwhelming and confusing season throughline.

13. HANK AND DIIIIIICCCKKK

“you’re doing your best by me. always have.” WAILING HERE

it also kills me to think that hank thinks that his imminent death is because of his failure to keep the team together (when he was clearly struggling with his own issues and was spiralling towards rock-bottom) and his fear that he will once again be the cause of the team falling apart. 

also:

14. “i grew up... you can, too. you just have to face your fear.”

yep, got scarecrow’s grubby little fingerprints aaaaalllll over this. 

14.25. nightwing’s got specialised batarangs! yay! (somehow i can’t see this universe’s dick calling them “wingdings”)

15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh man, that was devastating. well done, show. fuck, well done, jason.

this is going to bring up all sorts of “if onlys” for the team. i can’t wait for some fucking aftermath. 

[theplumsoldier]

the bystander is as bad as the bully

summary: you are a mutant and who knows for what reason donald broke you out of transigen, risking his job and life for your freedom. despite this one suspiciously nice act, you will make him face his soiled past—bring up his deepest insecurities and [now] most regretful past. if he did not hate himself before, he sure does now. part of a miniseries! pairing: donald pierce x reader word count: 3191 warnings: vulgar language, mentions of blood, angst, violence, unhealthy dealings with emotions.

How you had gotten yourself in this situation was beyond you. You sat in a chair in the apartment of the mutant-hunter who also had broken you out of Transigen approximately half an hour ago. Your eyes cautiously took in your surroundings, observing the life of an apparent minimalist. It was rather large, his apartment, albeit austere and seemingly having no personal touch. It was neat and looked as if he had he had only lived there for a very short amount of time. It made you wonder if Donald Pierce was a psychopath. But, of course, you can’t judge a person by their living arrangements. However, what it is appropriate to judge a person on, is their actions. And now, from where you stand, it appears to be a fact that Donald has kidnapped you.

Jumping in surprise, you were forced from your trance once Donald dropped a small box onto the dinner table, and you gulped, unsure what was next.

Back in captivity - not to say being held here was not the very same bar the scenery - you had been caned for speaking unless spoken to, so as the questions clouded your mind, you merely kept quiet for your own good. Because it is for your own good.

Meekly, you watched as Donald dragged another chair to sit before you and as he slumped down with a heavy breath, he wiped his forehead. His eyes avoided yours at every cost and his jaw clenched and arms flexed as he reached the box.

A ragged breath escaped you from the anticipation, and you were confused to see medical supplies. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, a deep crease between your brows and your blood-stained, quivering lips slightly parted. Was he going to take care of the wound oozing blood out of your thigh?

Donald was not bothered enough to give you a smart comment in retaliation to your glare. He was too exhausted. But he knew the gash in your leg needed help, or else he had rescued you from Transigen only to let you bleed out at his hand.

“Take off those pants.”

Your eyes shot up, whitening.

“What?” croaked you, no longer able to hold back your words.

Your voice was weak, hoarse, and it scraped in your throat as you spoke. The last time a sound had come out of you was a week ago, and it was screams from being tortured.

“Your pants. Take them off,” reiterated he, this time nodding your way.

But you sat completely still. Your head was foggy, it was as if your thoughts were not your own, just about everything in your body was hurting, except for your right leg which had gone numb due to the loss of blood. Above everything, you still could not piece together what you were doing in Donald Pierce’s home.

He sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. Then he looked up at you, eyes flashing a flinch of emotion. Something certainly never seen before.

“Do you want to die?” asked he plainly, swiping his tongue across his chapped lips. You shook your head tentatively, your eyes fixated on him with much concern. “So let me close your wound.”

But this was the man that had stood by, stern-faced, unbothered, and at times even spoken the order, as Reavers had beaten you for not obeying. Surely, he had never himself laid a hand on you, but you believed that was merely a question of exertion. Why would he get his fingers dirty when he had a whole crew of men perfectly willing? You had been temporarily disabled more times than you could count as a result of Donald Pierce’s rank.

A bone-tired moan emitted from him and as Donald shot up from his seat, his hands went to the back of his head. Pacing for a second, he turned to look down at your debilitated person.

“Jesus-fucking-christ. Y/N. I am not going to hurt you,” enunciated he, leaning forward. His imposing frame heaved up with every breath and you pushed back in your seat. “Not deliberately, at least. I didn’t break you out of the facility only to let you bleed out here, okay?”

A pregnant pause passed by and the longer you looked into his piercing eyes, the more you felt compelled to nod your head.

“So then we understand each other, yeah? I can’t take you to a hospital, so we’ll have to fix you up here. Will you let me fix you up, Y/N?”

Donald felt like he was talking to a child or someone who did not speak English. His patience was wearing thin, because he could not help but think Transigen soldiers would soon come-a-knocking. Not only had he given up his job for you, but he too had risked his life in the process. He had doubted it was even worth it before he finally had been reckless enough to save your life, but a force of something he had never felt before drove him past sanity. Now he very well might have been a mutant himself, being a traitor would undoubtedly be considered just as bad if not worse.

Your mouth opened to speak but then closed again. You looked down, your tired eyes staring at the makeshift tourniquet. Lifting your hands from the edge of the seat, you trailed down your shaking fingers to release it from its task.

Very good, thought Donald, exhaling and moved to sit before you again.

When you tentatively had dropped the tourniquet, you moved to your jeans. You felt weird exposing yourself like this, but even more odd was that you did not feel as uncomfortable revealing your bare legs under Donald’s sharp gaze. He was concentrated on the gash cutting open your thigh, and to be fair you were growing exceedingly tired, your eyelids feeling heavier than ever, but that was just a result of the bloodloss. You could not give up now. Even if you did give in to the inviting deep sleep that hovered over you, Donald would not let you.

"Here," murmured Donald, bowing down to tuck at the ends of your jeans, pulling them off of you.

Weeks worth of small hairs created a pattern of blood as it trickled downward, captivity evident on your appearance. You had only been allowed showers whenever they had finished experimenting on you. Turns out even an anti-mutant organization such as themselves had certain regulations when it came to hygiene.

You hissed when the coagulated stain of rough material grazed the wound and instinctively pulled at your leg, only making it worse.

"Sorry. Sorry," mumbled Donald, giving you a reassuring gaze as he held back his hands. "I won't hurt you. Okay? I'm not gonna hurt you again."

Again.

Even at times where it had not been him two pull the trigger, to give the order; he had kept quiet and observant. You were not quite sure if he was saying "sorry" for you getting shot, or because he had let the torture go on for so long, or if there was something entirely different burden weighing him down - which, to be fair, you would not be surprised with should it be true - but Donald's left hand shook ever so lightly. You let him continue to clean up the smeared blood for although this man had contributed to your pain, you could see it in his eye he wore the guilt the rest did not dare face. He had all the reason to, of course, for, after all, the bystander is as bad as the bully.

After cleaning the wounded area up, Donald proceeded to search through the toolbox. Inspecting the laceration, his hand touched your thigh ever so cautiously, treating the skin like it was the most delicate porcelain.

"Looks like it was jus' a through-and-through. Lucky, but you'll need stitches."

"Lucky..." enunciated you in a whisper, your eyebrows knotting together and you were certain your heavy eyes were twitching but candidly you could not tell for you felt numb just then. Even the burning sting in your thigh seemed to fade and as you stared vacuously at Donald the word repeated itself in your head with seething spite. Lucky.

At a loss, you watched him work the thread through the needle. Even when he made the gesture to close up the wound, you were not fazed.

"I am lucky?"

The purest of venom.

That had to be a joke. Right?

Through his eyelashes, Donald looked at you, not giving it a second thought as he tried to concentrate.

"Could have been worse," mumbled he, going for the first stitch.

A disgusted laugh escaped you, unable to believe what he was saying.

"I was held captive for—fuck, I don't even know how long! I was tortured by you people, experimented on, drained, barely fed, isolated, and forced to undergo surgery three times just because that fucking doctor wanted to know how much I could withstand! And you tell me, that I was lucky?"

Now he understood you did not care you had been hurt as a consequence of him getting you out. The thing was, he had not saved you. He had merely made himself your captor instead of one of Transigen. But he was a Reaver at Transigen and now you are at his house. Who was to say he would treat you any differently? Through your eyes one captor is the same as the other; it does not matter as long as you are deprived of your freedom.

Your words got through to him, clearly, but he simply cleared his throat and shifted the way he kneeled before you, trying to get the bleeding under control while he tended to the injury.

"I didn't ask to be like this! The same you are you, I am me! I have done nothing wrong! And you try to play God by wiping out a whole new generation so you can—what? "Reclaim" your home?"

"Sit still."

"You can't change nature! Nature is the change and my people were just the first generation to play role in evolution! I don't know what made you this belligerent jingoist, but whatever fucked up childhood you suffered—that is no reason to be scared—"

"I ain't scared of a thing, okay? Now I didn't save you just to let you die, so how 'bout—"

"Save me?"

Pierce denied he merely relocated you from one captive situation to another. If he wanted to save you, he should have brought you somewhere you could get the medical help you needed and be safe. Granted, he was now, on his knees stitching you up, but nevertheless, he had made it abundantly clear you were going nowhere without him.

"You moved me from one shitty situation to another, you dipshit! What makes you any better than your people? All this time you watched me get tortured! You stood by the doctor's side, insensitive while I screamed and cried for them to stop! Doing nothing is not better than the ones doing the harm!"

Donald tried his best to keep his cool. But he had a lot on his mind. Fair enough, he thought, you cannot be grateful for a mutant-hunter to save you from your captor, but it took him a lot of courage to free you from Transigen.

He had tirelessly spent his nights planning your escape, at long last apprehending the iniquity of his actions and coming to terms with not only giving up his job but too becoming a deserter of a powerful and well-connected organization.

"You should have just left me there. That way they wouldn't be after you, anyway."

"I get it! Okay? Just... Sit still 'n let me fix this shit, yeah?"

Your glare remained, intent but you had no fight left in you.

And as much as you did not want to, you were beginning to think he was no longer in denial of holding you captive. But what was he to do? Let you go? You would never make it out of Mexico City without his help—hell, Donald was not even sure you guys would make it out of the city before Transigen tracked you down.

After all, he had never had a reason to hide a thing for Transigen. He had only ever been loyal to his job and crew so now that his moral-compass had grown overnight, he had not had the time to plan anything before he saw Doctor Rice taking it too far. Surely he had planned the escape for some time now, but he decided to commence the mission weeks before it was safe to get you out. Now, shit he was not too sure either of you would be safe for long. That was why he prioritized getting you patched up before attempting fleeing the country.

The next time the needle pierced your skin, you felt every bit of pain.

This time you let him work on you, staring intently at him as he did. When he was finished, he leaned down to your thigh to bite over the thread.

Pierce looked up at you.

"There. You should get some sleep. I'm gonna make the arrangements so we can leave in a couple hours."

You shook your head with great exhaust. No matter how you tried to envisage the two of you on the run, you could not. Was he really counting on the two of you now being partners? Fugitives on the run from an anti-mutant organization. With a mutant-hunter.

Donald stood back up and offered his hand to lighten the pressure on your leg. Tentatively, you held onto him and let him pull you up. This was the first time you had touched his bionic hand. At Transigen you used to believe it would only ever touch you to scar. But this was gentle. A careful gesture of kindness from a man seeming the opposite. You could not possibly believe that this man had ever been described as kind, but here he was, and although you suspected the various reasons behind his actions, he had successfully freed you from the grasp of Transigen.

However ungrateful you may appear, you could not be thankful until you were free, with your own kind. Besides, how can one be ungrateful to their captor?

Then you realized if he would not let you go on your own, perhaps you should try your luck. You could not possibly return to your friends with a mutant-hunter at your tail. For all you knew, this was merely an act of that very same mutant-hunter who contributed to your torment all those weeks, to lure him to your friends and family.

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

Donald cast a glance over his shoulder before he reached down to collect something from under the couch. A briefcase. But when he opened it, a workstation was hidden inside. A satellite computer.

"Not if we're going to survive."

You could not quite make out if he was genuine about the fact that he too was in trouble, or if Pierce was on his way to an Academy Award.

"You can go sleep in the bedroom, I'll be in here sorting things out."

You looked to where he nodded. Swallowing the cry in your throat, you shifted your weight. You were really not comfortable sleeping in his bed. However, if you picked the couch, you would not be able to snoop around, searching for possible weapons or plan much of an escape. Your head was a jumble of ambivalent thought, still not fully assimilated with whether or not Donald was indeed in this with you.

Gulping, you hesitantly moved to the bedroom, vigilantly stepping inside. The bedroom was as clean as the rest of the apartment; no personal photographs, ostensibly no possessions of value, emotional or otherwise. You looked back to Pierce and were sure you caught him looking out the corner of his eyes, but his gaze returned to the computer, typing rapidly.

Closing the door behind you, you exhaled. You had not even noticed that you had been so tense, but only as you leaned back against the white door, you felt your body slump with lassitude. The walls were white, so was the ceiling, the bedside table, too, as well as the bedspread. The curtains were black and drawn. If he was no psychopath, he certainly seemed to be the kind of guy to hide arms under his pillow. You went to check.

Nothing. Shit. Fucking shit!

Your breathing came out unsteady, ragged, and scraping in your throat the same way it did when a panic attack would surprise you. This was no time.

Lying on the bed, trying your best to stay calm, you put your hands over your head, crying out. In out, in, out, in and out.

When you finally had managed to collect yourself, and perhaps even gotten just a tad bit shut-eye - for at some point you remember waking up, although with no recollection of greeting slumber - you felt the need to inspect his room for any other weapons. You could not imagine a professional mutant-hunter not being loaded with artillery. If you had no choice but to let him take you wherever - hopefully, that was, as he vehemently asserted out of this damned country - you figured you, even if only for precaution, a gun might very well come in handy.

While you methodically scoured every inch of the room, you feared you might not have been too hushed as you had believed for suddenly the door was flung open.

Gun in hand, hard bearing, and piercing eyes, Pierce stood in the doorway, ready to shoot if necessary.

You had been so accustomed to surrender at this point, you did not think twice before your hands were raised to head-level.

He had many times seen fragile mutants, begging for their lives, all the same begging for him to end it, but the expression on your face just now hurt him. This was his fault.

Howbeit, he like any man in denial repressed emotion when feeling a hint of arcane feelings. Donald was experiencing those exact feelings and he did not like what he did not understand. Masking the unknown into anger, he propped the gun back into his belt and looked majestically wroth.

“Please don’t do anything to upset me. The mess wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

Slowly, your hands fell parallel to your body, and you leaned against the bookcase for support.

Donald easily justified your expression of anxiety. But he would not have shot you. Even if you did try to escape. The hunter merely comprehended the facts of a fugitive and the two of you were just that; he was ready to take down whoever dared break into his hideout, but if you believing him inclined to shoot you hindered you from absconding; he could live with that. However much it hurt him, he could. At least until your safety was assured.

"I was just—"

"Don't matter. We’re leaving."

[tadmean-aa]

YEP, HERE WE ARE FOLKS

   so. this is a post i didn’t want to write, but here we are. if you’ve followed me for a while you know i don’t like drama / public discourse, but i genuinely have no other choice. i’ve tried to handle this privately to no avail. and while i’d appreciate the word being spread about this person, you’re welcome to block this post or blacklist the tags. i’m not here to tell you who to interact with or start a fight. i’m not here to discouse this or argue. the facts are the facts, and the facts are that this user has stolen from me repeatedly, even after being asked to stop, and has taken credit for intellectual property and an interpretation largely inspired by coping with trauma. massive drama under the cut. sorry folks. i’ve tagged it as ‘long post //’ as well for mobile users. 

     tl;dr? @cvffeinequeen (whats good?) ripped me off majorly. it’s driving me nuts. tw for ic abuse mention.

  on one hand, i thought about not writing this because it’s literally just tumblr roleplay. on the other, writing coco this way, this very specific way, has been a way to cope with my own similar struggles, and the last straw was seeing this person getting credit for their “creativity”, aka the things they blatantly ripped from me. to see someone being praised by unknowing people for taking a story that i crafted from my own hurt, a story that they’ve gutted and repurposed so they can roleplay with it instead of coming up with something of their own, was the absolute final straw. not to mention that if they’ve stolen from me and gotten away with it, it’s not unlikely they’ve taken from other sources as well. maybe someone else will come forward, idk.

   if any of the screenshots or links below are not conclusive enough, feel free to come to me and i will try to get you better ones / answer your questions. this is a long post, but i’m not about to call someone out for the first (and hopefully last) time without bringing some hard ass motherfuckin proof. my old blog (tadmean.tumblr.com, or tadmean-a.tumblr.com if the first doesn't work) is available multiple times on the wayback machine if you need to check some of these for yourself.

    for context, i found this user in the coco adel tag through an edit. i always like to see duplicates (it gets lonely being the only coco), so i clicked the url to see what their blog was like and maybe follow if they were cool with that. immediately, something stank. on closer inspection, i realized their bio was ripped directly from mine and reworded—examples below. bear in mind that they have changed their blog background color since then, which is why some of the caps dont match the current blog; it used to be this shade of red (?), now it’s a brownish pinkish color. the bio has also since changed, but i’ve included the three different versions. i sent these screenshots to a close friend the night i found this blog, as well as to another friend a couple days later / a week maybe? so that’s why some of these are discord screenshots.

BIO POSTS: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 ) ( pt 10 ) ( pt 11 )

screenshots in hand, i instant messaged them and let them know i saw what they were doing. screenshots below:

DM CONVO: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 )

NEW BIO AT THE TIME: ( pt 1 ) ( pt 2 ) ( pt 3 ) ( pt 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 )

BIO AS OF NOW ( 11 / 29 / 18 ): ( PT 1 ) ( PT 2 ) ( PT 3 ) ( PT 4 ) ( pt 5 ) ( pt 6 ) ( pt 7 ) ( pt 8 ) ( pt 9 )

      past this, we just agreed to be mutuals and that, i thought, was the end of it. sure, the bio wasn’t all that changed, but they’d seemed to realize the error of their ways and i was naively optimistic.

   from here, it temporarily got better. then got way worse. whether it was formatting ( x, x ) ( x, x ), ( x, x ) the names of tags ( x, x ), ( x, x ), personalized tags ( x, x ), musings posts ( x, x ) ( x, x ) (these being just a few), etc. this user has mimicked my blog to a T. but this is all just context. the thing that i’m here to talk about, however, are headcanons. i started writing coco as a way to cope with my own trauma/abuse & personality disorders; it started from the thought that if a strong character like coco can manage it all, then so can i. and it’s not like we have a whole lot of canon content for coco that might lead people to the same conclusion about her life—coco is a character that has maybe? 30 mins to an hour (being very generous) of overall content? the things i’ve written about coco is not stuff you can conclude from her canon material. period. she’s essentially an oc based on five seconds of material. if you have any doubts, remember that: coco has essentially no canon content or backstory. almost everything on my blog is a headcanon. that said:

LIST OF A FEW STOLEN HEADCANONS:

stole coco’s troubled home life as an heiress ( x ) and how she runs away later in v4 ( x ). this is the biggest one.

coco’s father has been the main antagonist of her story (way before weiss’s bg was revealed, or jacques was really even a character). this person has not only ripped off coco’s bad home life, but ripped off her father being the particular antagonist ( x , x ). they’ve also mentioned the similarity to weiss’ story but i can’t find the post. however, because this is ripped off, there’s no reasoning for why he’s the worse of coco’s parents. this is a common theme with this person: they take a headcanon and remove the fat from it so it’s not as recognizable. this also removes the context and reasoning for the headcanon.

ripped off small bits and pieces off my page: like coco barely sleeping ( x , x ), often getting detention ( x, x ) (something that’s not mentioned in their bio), sweet tooth ( x , x ), scars ( x, x )

coco’s full name being something she only gives to people she trusts ( x ,  x ) or people who would have it off her record, since it’s a reminder of her family.

oh, the best one! i posted a headcanon post specifically to literally see if they would take anything from it, and they did! blatantly! here (hair hc: x , x ) and here ( x , x, x , x). a link to my post: x and theirs: ( x, x )

    in their bio, they write that these are headcanons they’ve been writing for years. well, funny enough, lots of the things they’ve taken are things i posted and started writing about years ago. so i guess in a way, that was honest. throwback thursday!

   let me be clear: if you’ve interacted with this person, or if you didn’t notice, or you noticed but didn’t say anything, you’re not the bad guy. in these situations, the bad guy is the thief. period. i realize to some people this might seem silly, but i’m extremely sick & disabled and cannot work or really do much of anything; writing coco convincingly and making her relatable has essentially been my job, my sole motivation, for these past 3-4 years. i’ve poured hard work into this interpretation, only for someone to come along, butcher it, and claim it as their own. to you, it’s not a big deal, but to me? it’s years of work, stolen.

   i hate to make this post. i hate serious posts, i hate drama, i hate anything that might discourage someone else writing for coco. i love duplicates! i’ve never had any issues before! but this person isn’t roleplaying as coco; if anything, they seem to be roleplaying as a version of my blog. which, not cool but also, creepy.

 so, yeah. please dont send anon hate their way, this person is still a minor. but being a minor doesnt make theft okay! apparently we still needed that said out here in the rpc. thanks for reading guys, peace

[redrobinfection]

“Mi cama es su cama”

JayTim Week 2018 | Day 5 - “Bed Sharing” (Day 6), Pt 5 of 6

AN: Okay, so, March is definitely one of the worst times of year for me, surpassed only by April, so, originally, I hadn’t planned on participating in this JayTim Week. But I couldn’t stay away from the “bed sharing” prompt, and thus this massive oneshot was born. Since I don’t like posting long works to tumblr, and the fic naturally split into six, roughly-even parts, I’ve decided to release one part each day up until day six, at which point I’ll also share a link to the entire work on Ao3. I particularly enjoyed writing this spur-of-the-moment monster, so I hope you enjoy reading just as much!

Tags: enemies to friends to lovers, pre-N52, slow burn, blood and injury, tw: blood

<< Part 4

---

Tim blew out a breath and sagged down onto the bed, running both hands through his hair. At this point it was a waiting game, nothing to do but wait until the man tucked into his bed woke up again. He carefully smoothed out the blankets he had draped over Jason's still form, mindful to keep his touch light so as not to aggravate the wounds stitched and bandaged underneath, and mused over the events of the past two hours.

The ordeal had begun with a bewildering alert from one of the safehouses at which he and Jay would often meet up to discuss cases or catch a nap if one or both of them were running on fumes. The napping part of it had started out as a joke between them after the time Tim had crashed at Jason's place right after the invasion had ended. Since then, every other week or so, one of them would show up at whichever safehouse the other was currently occupying just to beg a nap, hang out, and eat the other's food. These days, they were hanging out together at least twice a week, and Tim was actually starting to depend on those extra naps to keep him going throughout the week.

So when he had gotten the alert, he had wondered if maybe Jay had thought that he was there for some reason and just hadn't thought to disable and reset the security? It was that or someone had legitimately broken into the place; all of the Bats knew to either call him or disable the security themselves upon entering, so it wouldn't have been one of them. He had been particularly bewildered after he had pulled the security feed and saw that it was indeed Jason who had entered. Uncertain and a little concerned, Tim had peeled off from his patrol route and circled back to check, just in case.

Maybe Jason had info for him but had lost his comm? Or maybe he'd been hit with fear toxin or something similarly nasty and just homed in on the closest place to crash, just as Tim had months ago when he'd been hit by Freeze? Or maybe he had just really needed a nap?

Those possibilities had circled like impatient vultures in his head as he had cautiously entered the safehouse through the false wall Jason had carelessly left ajar. Upon seeing nothing immediately out of place, he had turned off the silent alarms and reset the system. He had then walked from room to room, seeking Jason out, until he had found him in the only bedroom.

At first glance it had appeared that Jason had snuck in for a quick nap, stretched out on his stomach across the bed, hood nowhere to be seen, head buried in a pillow. The second thing Tim had noticed was that Jay hadn't bothered to remove his boots before flopping across the bed. It was at the point that Tim had opened his mouth rouse his guest and gleefully rib him for his oversight that he had noticed the third thing, the spreading pool of blood just seeping out from under Jason.

Tim had instantly cried out and jumped forward, gingerly rolling the man onto his back. The stain hadn't spread too far, but thinking back to when he'd first gotten the alert and by looking at the deep color and wet glisten of blood that could no longer be absorbed by the saturated material, Jason had clearly been bleeding profusely for a while.

Heart in his throat, Tim had jumped right into crisis mode, quickly stripping out of his gauntlets, pulling on the nitrile gloves he kept in one of his bandolier compartments, shaking Jason to gauge level of consciousness - completely non-responsive - and feeling for a pulse as he gauged Jason's color and breathing. He had clearly lost a lot of blood, as confirmed by the paleness of his skin, his rapid, shallow breaths, his rapid, thready pulse, and the total loss of consciousness, but at least Tim had made it back while he had still had a pulse.

Tim had wasted no time in running into the gear room for his vigilante first aid kit, IV fluids and oxygen. He then quickly identified two gunshot wounds to the torso, in the lower right quadrant, and one superficial wound to the left shoulder. He had staunched the bleeding temporarily with sterile gauze and pressure bandages, then set Jay up on fluids and oxygen while he had made some calls out to Oracle and the Bats to call in some favors.

He had then cleaned and stitched the wounds in record time - Jay had been lucky the bullets hadn't gone deep enough to rupture viscera or nick any major arteries, otherwise he would have been taking a trip to his least favorite cave in the world, if he had survived long enough for Tim to call in the cavalry - and then he had gingerly shifted Jason over on the bed so he could strip the blankets and sheets from under him. The blood had soaked all the way through, as he'd thought - the mattress was a total loss - but it was the only bed Tim had, so he had done his best to soak up as much liquid as he could, then laid down a layer of towels before stretching clean sheets over the bed.

He had only just then finished tucking Jason back into the bed, setting him up on a unit of blood, cleaning up the bloodied sheets and towels, and putting away the first aid supplies. It had been two hours since he had first gotten the alert from his security app, but it had felt like two of the longest hours of his life.

He hadn't realized until he'd seen the pool of blood and seen Jason's pale, slack face how much he actually cared for the man. It scared him, just how much he cared. It frightened him, just how much it had frightened him to find Jason bleeding out and unresponsive in his bed.

He shifted his attention back to the man lying in his bed in the present moment. He threaded his fingers into Jason's and squeezed, his fingers mimicking the fear he felt squeeze his chest in that moment as he thought back on how close to total disaster they had come tonight. If he had been a few minutes slower or if the bullets had gone a little bit deeper or if they'd hit just a little higher. So many 'what-ifs' and it terrified him that the mere act of considering those possibilities terrified him so much.

He'd felt fear for the safety of those he'd worked with before - for Bruce, for Dick, for Steph, for Bart, Kon, Cassie and the Titans, even for Damian, once - but he'd never felt fear like this before. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Now that he was waiting for Jason to wake up, he wasn't sure whether he was more nervous about what would happen when Jason woke up again - what he would say, what Jay might say, what would happen next - or at the possibility that Jason might never wake up again.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft sound from the bed. The significance of that sound pulled a relieved smile from him in spite of the churning feeling he felt in his stomach as he watched Jason begin to stir. He subtly shifted his grip around Jason's hand, lightly feeling for a pulse and feeling a greater measure of relief from the strong, steady beat he felt gradually quicken under his fingertips. After a minute or so, Jason's eyes blinked open once, twice, then stayed open, at which point his face immediately twisted in pain.

"Wha' happ'n?" Jason groaned.

"I was hoping you could tell me that," Tim responded smoothly. It took Jason a few tries to focus his gaze on him.

"I was… trackin' down a weap'ns deal an'… turned bad… got caught in th' crossfire as I tried t' break it up… an' then… I dunno," Jason recalled woozily, frowning slightly. He pulled his hand from Tim's and pressed it lightly to the wounds on his abdomen, hissing slightly.

"And then you somehow made it out here, broke into my apartment, took a little nap in my bed, and bled all over my sheets. Not to mention you forgot to take your boots off first," Tim finished, keeping his tone light and teasing.

Jason huffed a laugh, then grimaced and pressed his hand harder against the wounds. "Shit, man… don' make me laugh. Hurts." Tim rose smoothly and retrieved two syringes from the dresser and rounded the other side of the bed to fiddle with the IVs. "Sorry about the sheets, though. And the boots, of course," Jason finished, shooting him a wink that was nearly indistinguishable from a wince.

"Don't worry about it," Tim assured him, patting the hand just below the IV sites patronizingly, "I mean, you forgave me that one time with Freeze, so I'm sure I can give you this one."

"H-how generous of you," Jason choked out, clearly trying his best not to laugh.

"I've got some painkillers and antibiotics here for you, if you want them. No allergies, right?" Tim asked, waving the syringes. Jason nodded vigorously to each, so Tim carefully uncapped and injected them into the port he'd placed with one IV catheter for this express purpose. "I would have given you the painkiller sooner, but I wanted to make sure you'd wake up first."

The tension visibly drained from Jason's face and body within seconds of the painkiller going in. He let out a pleased sigh as he relaxed back onto the pillows Tim had propped him up upon. "No problem, man. I'm just really grateful you got me the good stuff. Oh, yeahhhh… that's the stuffffffffff." He practically melted into the pillows, a happy little puddle of high-as-a-kite Jason.

Tim snorted. "Yeah, I had to call in a few favors to get my hands on it, so you're welcome." He capped the empty syringes and set them aside. "Had to call in one for the blood too. You're lucky I had the rest of this stuff on hand here or we would have been shit out of luck and you would have had to take a ride in your least favorite automobile in the city."

"Hey, nah, I love the Batmobile - awesome wheels on the thing - I just can't stand the jerk who drives it," Jason explained drowsily, eyes slipping closed in spite of himself. "But thanks for not calling in big B or Dickie and the Demon Brat."

"Well, it was Damian who brought us the morphine and blood, so…"

Jason's eyes snapped open and he stared. "Wait, Damian did you a favor? Wait. He owed you a favor? How even…? What did you do for the demon for him to owe you a favor?"

Tim laughed, slowly rounded the bed, and sat down beside Jason once more. "Yeah, he owed me a favor, and part of the favor I did him involved not telling anyone why he owed me that favor, so, you know, I really like not getting stabbed and thrown from high places, and rather dislike having my grapple lines cut, so I'm gonna keep that one to myself."

"That's fair. But jeez…" Jason whistled. "To use a favor from the Demon Brat on me. Wow. I'm honored."

Tim grinned. "No problem, man." He was just about to stand and go in search of extra blankets when Jason's hand unexpectedly shifted from his wounds down to where Tim's hand rested on the bed, his chilled fingers wrapping around Tim's slightly sweaty ones with a firm grip.

"But really, Tim, thank you," Jason murmured seriously. "Thanks for catching the alarms I must have set off coming in here and a special thank you for not taking your time coming back and checking on them - coming back and checking on me. Thanks for patching me up." He paused, then smiled and squeezed Tim's hand, instantly rekindling the heavy churning feeling in his stomach that had fallen to the wayside during their easy banter. "Thanks for sharing your beds, particularly this one, tonight, with me. Means a lot to me."

Tim nodded and swallowed. "Y-yeah, no problem." He shot up from the bed, yanking his hand from Jason's abruptly. He fluttered for a moment before rambling out some words that might have conveyed a desire to find more blankets and get Jay some water, but probably came out too quickly to be understood, and then he fled the room. He took his time pulling the spare blankets from the main closet and filling a lidded cup - complete with straw - with water before he made his way back to the bedroom. He steeled himself outside the door, running what he planned to say over and over in his head.

"Here are more blankets and some water," he began as he walked in. Jason accepted the water silently, taking a few small sips before setting it aside. Tim draped several of the blankets over him carefully, then stood back from the bed. He sucked in a deep breath.

"Jay, I-"

"So where're you gonna sleep, Timbo? You got a couch in this place?"

"I uhhh… hadn't thought about it actually," he admitted. "No, I don't. I'll probably just make myself a pallet on the floor, to be honest. Plenty of blankets left."

Jason shook his head. "No, don't sleep on the floor, man. There's plenty of room on the bed."

Tim immediately began to protest, but Jason raised his voice to over him. "I'm serious, get yourself outta that suit and climb in. I can use all the extra warmth I can get right now; blood loss fucking sucks."

Tim wavered. "I don't want to accidentally elbow you in the middle of the night, or worse, kick you or something."

Jason scoffed, then fiddled with his nasal cannula with a grimace. "Like that ever happens. You're not a kicker, anyway. If anything you might snuggle me until my stitches pop, but believe me, I'll wake you up loooong before it gets to that, so stop stalling and get in. After all," Jason explained with a loopy grin, "we're not really sharing a bed if you're not in here too."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, but didn't argue it further. He had wanted to keep a close eye on Jay tonight, anyway. He quickly shucked off the remaining pieces of his suit and carefully climbed into the right side of the bed - ideally he would have liked to have avoided Jason's sore side, but with the IVs on the other side he didn't really have a choice - purposefully giving the injured man wide clearance. Jason huffed and dragged him closer, pulling him nearly flush against his side.

Eventually they settled in together, the sound of Jason's breaths growing slower and softer while the drip-drip of the IVs filled the silences in between. Before Jason could drop off completely and before Tim lost his nerve entirely, he sucked in another long breath and went for it.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"You really scared me tonight."

A long pause. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I… I don't know… I can't…" Tim struggled and he felt Jason shift beside him in confusion. "I'm not sure what I'd do if you had…"

"Died. Again," Jason finished, his words reminiscent of the many jokes he often made about his death. There was no humor in his voice this time, only understanding.

"Yeah. I'd… It scares me, Jason. It scares me how much it scares me. I'd really hate it if something happened to you."

"I'd really hate it if something happened to you, too," Jason admitted softly.

Tim let the silence stretch, weighing his next words carefully on his tongue and in his heart before he whispered them to the ceiling. He wasn't even sure Jason was awake anymore.

"Jay, I think I like you."

The admission floated into the space above and around them and Tim felt an overwhelming sense of peace at having finally gotten the words past his lips, words that he felt were true down to the depths of his soul, a truth that had grown between them for months without him ever realizing it.

Jason wasn't asleep. The response he gave without pause echoed in Tim's head until sleep finally took him and then all the way through the night and on into the morning.

"I like you too, Babybird."

---

Part 6 >>

[anyazombot]

Dear @haganenoheichou, I’m your secret Santa :) 

I tried to incorporate a few of the different things you asked for and I hope the end result is to your liking. Happy Holidays to you!

 “You’re too reckless,” Levi grumbles and prods the blasted shoulder plate of Erwin’s mechanical arm. “Looks like the actual socket is damaged. I’m gonna have to remove parts of it. Gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Erwin smiles at that, but his good hand squeezes the edge of the pod ever so slightly.

“Well, I’m glad it’s you doing it. I’ll look forward to it.”

“Not funny, old man,” Levi mumbles in response and sticks a screw driver at the edge of where prosthetic connects with skin. Erwin draws in a sharp inhale, too sudden for him to try and cover up the pain. Levi sighs. Tearing parts out of the flesh and reattaching them back always hurts and he hasn’t even started yet. 

“I should have been there with you,” he says and starts to disconnect the damaged arm from the socket. He already knows what answer to expect, but he’s going to try anyway. Last time they had this conversation Erwin’s arm was in a less sorry state.

“I told you I need you here,” the captain says, tone level. “You’re my best engineer. I can’t risk you on those kinds of operations when you’re not a hundred percent.”

“Yeah, I’m also your best fighter,” Levi counters - he’s not being cocky - he knows he is, and adds quieter, pointedly keeping his eyes on the burned wires and the ruined socket. “I hate it when you go out and come back with the thing being a mess and then I have to fix it. I’d rather be there with you and not let it happen in the first place. It’s called preventive medicine, ever heard?”

“Not until we get the spare for your leg, you know the deal.” Erwin says, as unwilling to budge on the issue as he’s been for the past three weeks.

Levi frowns.

 His prosthetic leg was blasted two raids ago and has been malfunctioning since. He hates being grounded like that, but he was too reckless with it in the first place. With all their mechanical enhancements, it’s too easy to forget that they are still far from invincible or immortal. Still, he doesn’t regret saving that rookie, even if his leg was smashed. Kids these days, the more wide-eyed and enamored with the idea of changing the world they are, the more utterly unprepared for the actual battle.

He was able to patch it up afterwards but it’s not fully combat ready and they don’t have all the required parts on the ship. Erwin ordered him to wait until they find a safe opening to dock somewhere at a major station and sneak out to procure parts for the full repair.  Being on the Union watch list of most dangerous, shoot-on-sight rebels does come with its disadvantages. No going out for casual drinks for them any time soon.

He’s always found it weird though, that when it comes to it Erwin always ends up prioritizing his engineering skills over other things. Levi can’t say he could ever follow Erwin’s line of reasoning on that.

It's not like he was born with a remarkable talent or anything. Everything’s always been out of necessity.

The shithole of a planet he came from wasn’t exactly a great place to be a tiny disabled orphan. He had to pick up engineering because that was the only way to survive. Although ‘engineering’ sounds too big of a word for a scavenged assembly of mismatched parts that was his first leg. Levi hated the fit and it was ugly and dirty, but it functioned more often than it didn’t and that was enough.

Same could be said about his fighting skills. It wasn’t natural talent or physical advantage that made him so dangerous to face in combat. It was his relentlessness, good instincts, and ability to think on his feet.

Use what you can, keep at it till it works, don’t let anyone look down on you.

 He thought it was that that made Erwin approach him to be recruited in the first place, but he was quite surprised to discover that Erwin decided to single out his engineering skills instead. ‘Did you build this?’ was the first thing he asked Levi and pointed at his leg. Levi gaped.

He’d never really considered working on other people’s body parts before joining the cause. Or, in retrospect, maybe he just hadn’t had anyone trust him enough to do it before Erwin.

 Levi sighs and fully disconnects the mechanical arm from the socket. Now that he gets the full view the thing looks even more damaged that he assumed. It’s going to be a pain and it’s gonna take hours to rebuild. And here some deep part of him naively hoped that they’d actually maybe get a little bit of downtime after all this. Should have known better.

Erwin was gone for four days on this last one and that equals to ten years of anxious tea drinking and scrubbing the ship’s hallways in Levi’s time.

The plan was to take one of the shuttles down to recruit a group that’s been engaging the Union forces out on F673, with the main ship staying hidden and away from the orbit. Erwin never completely trusted the gang, and was right to do so, but he had to try. They always have to try. That’s the times they live in.

In the end, the negotiations failed and they were attacked and Erwin’s arm was blasted to pieces.

Even though he hates to admit it, a part of Levi understands Erwin’s reasoning for not letting him dispatch. He trusts Erwin and the plan, but even so he still can’t help feeling on edge not being out there with him, not being able to do anything, especially when the results turn out to be as shitty as they did this last mission. If this has to continue any further he’ll be out of his emergency tea supplies soon too. Who know what he’ll do then.

 “We do have Hanji, you know?” He says as a last-ditch effort at making Erwin reconsider. His leg might not be a hundred percent, but he thinks he can mostly handle it. It’s been through worse situations in his lifetime, and there is another engineer on the ship whose knowledge and education Levi considers to be far superior to his own.

Erwin sighs.

“Hanji has other jobs to concentrate on, you should already know that, and they are not a replacement for you,” he says and puts his remaining, flesh hand on Levi’s real knee. Levi pauses his prodding of the socket. The warmth of skin seeps through the fabric and Erwin’s tone changes unexpectedly, to something softer, something less like a ship captain, fighting a partisan war against corrupt Union, to more like the mysterious man Levi gets to see sometimes in the quiet hours when his doors are closed and most of the crew is asleep.

“Besides,” Erwin leans in and his warm breath ghosts over Levi’s cheek. “You’re the one most intimately familiar with all parts of me.”

Levi’s breath catches. What is Erwin trying to do? The hand on his knee moves ever so slightly, warm fingers wide and strong over the fabric of his suit. Levi’s eyelashes dip. What persuasive distraction. Erwin has always been good at those.

They can’t though, not right now. Not with a screwdriver in his hand and a bunch of exposed connectors on Erwin’s shoulder.

“Whatever you’re trying to do, we gotta fix your arm first, you know it, shitty captain,” he murmurs, warm all over, and pulls away slowly. He has to put some distance between them right this second or the arm won’t get worked on for hours.

“It can wait,” Erwin cuts him mid-motion, and Levi stops, surprised, with their faces level, just in time to be caught like a rabbit in the captain’s eyes. How is he supposed to say no to that and look away now?

 Erwin leans in once again, slowly. His lips find Levi’s jawline and plant a tentative kiss. It’s a distraction from their previous conversation, Levi knows. Knows, but his lips part with a soft exhale and his head tilts all on its own. He couldn’t stop it if he tried.

Damn Erwin, always knows what to do, always finds what to say to make him melt right there and do whatever he wants him to. Levi scoots closer, argument temporarily abandoned.

He never wins these things, or anything Erwin doesn’t want him to, he realizes in between kisses. But it’s not like he minds terribly. He’s long accepted the order of things between them. Besides… How long has it been since they kissed like that? And how long will it be till they are able to again? With the way things have been going recently, he might as well allow himself be distracted, if only for a few moments.

 “I’m putting you under right after this, you get it?” He whispers, trying to catch his breath, as Erwin’s hand works its way past his belt and Erwin’s lips are on his neck.

“Hmm,” Erwin hums in response, amused.

“And I’m gonna do all kinds of painful things to you when you’re asleep. You’re gonna be so fucking sore when you wake up,” Levi tries to sound like he means it. That makes Erwin chuckle.

“Why don’t you try when I’m awake instead?” He murmurs while planting a trail of kisses on Levi’s collarbone. The joke makes Levi’s face flare up. How do these things always backfire? He can’t even joke-threaten the guy without it being turned on him immediately.

Some unabashed part of him gets infected with the idea for a split second though. His brain gets flooded with images of things that are absolutely inappropriate to do to an injured person, to his captain, but still are oh so, so what Levi would call ‘not entirely terrible, something he might want to do some time, given the right circumstances’ kinds of things, and at that his body lights with fire and he’s both ashamed and exhilarated by the instant pull of it. He squeezes his eyes shut. This is not that place and not that time, he has to think of the arm first. Damn Erwin stirring these things in him. Does he even know?

That’s it, he decides, no more talking, no more thinking, grabs the back of Erwin’s neck, pulls him in and kisses him full mouth. No more talking, Erwin seems to agree and guides Levi’s on top of him. His arm is too useless to do it any other way.

 The lights in the second maintenance room, aka Levi’s quarters dim. He watches the stars shine quietly outside the ship as Erwin sleeps peacefully in the pod, recovering from the socket reattachment.

Levi blew his own chances at peaceful night rest when he decided to do the procedure right after their unexpected bit of love-making. His body was warm and lax, but his mind was still sharp and he went all out on his earlier promise to knock Erwin out. Not the pain part though, he tried to be as gentle as he could, Erwin has already had too much as is.

Levi runs his hand along the seam where the socket is newly reattached to flesh, moves up, touches Erwin’s neck, his warm cheek that’s beginning to grow stubble, adjusts the lose strand of blond hair on his forehead, sighs quietly. Erwin will be asleep for hours. He made sure of that. Now, maybe there’s something he still hasn’t tried about that leg.

[chiauve]

Algernon - Day 21

(Note: We are 21 days in and Jet isn’t awake yet omg how do I do this every time...)(But SOON)

           Gilmore was there to greet them when they arrived that evening. His welcome of his colleague was warmer than Joe's, but then Gilmore and Grant had been sharing correspondences long before the cyborgs ever met the doctor.

           "I figured we'd let you settle in for the night and then get started fresh in the morning," Gilmore explained, ushering Grant and Joe indoors. The rest of the cyborgs were in the front room and a round of introductions took place, though they had all met Grant before once or twice over the last couple of years, but he could never seem to keep them all straight.

           "I was hoping to look over the lab before retiring, if I may? Maybe take a copy of the plans for the 002 unit for some bedtime reading," Grant suggested.

           "I'll show you the lab and introduce you to Jet, though he's still unconscious. I'm sorry but I do not leave hard copies of my cyborgs' designs lying around. They would be too easily copied or stolen. I hope you understand."

           "Of course. You can give me a rundown of the plan of attack while we're down there, then."

           Joe took Grant's bags up to his room while the others dispersed, Chang to prepare dinner and the others to find something to busy them until then. Joe would stay the night with Francoise during the duration of Dr. Grant's stay. She'd earlier taken one look at Joe's room before he left for the airport and pulled at her hair.

           "How does this place look worse and worse every time I see it? How are you so messy?"

           "Honestly? Jet was the one who always cleaned up, not me. I kinda got used to it."

           "Jet's been gone for two years!"

           "It's been a messy two years."

           She'd all but tossed Joe out of his own room to clean up and prepare it for Dr. Grant herself. Joe hurried out the front door but still heard her scream when she got to his sink. He might have forgotten to rinse it out for the last couple of weeks. Two years of not having an angry six-foot-plus American after you when you didn't clean up tended to make one careless.

           That was one of the reasons Joe never realized Jet's hair was dyed. When he was done with the sink it was immaculate. Clean sink, clean shower, swept floor, but otherwise Jet's bed was unmade and he had a habit of tossing his pants wherever.

           The house hadn't been the same without Jet's clothes showing up in random places.

           Joe placed Grant's bags on the bed and hurried back downstairs, catching up with the two professors as they descended into the underground laboratories. Gilmore glanced back at him and Joe just shrugged. What else was he going to do for a while?

           Dr. Grant looked like a child in a candy store as Gilmore showed him the labs and equipment. He oohed and ahhed and wanted to admire and touch everything. Gilmore couldn't help but beam in pride a little.

           They moved into the battle room so Gilmore could show Grant 002's specs on the large 3D projector.

           "What I'll mostly need help with will be the construction of the body itself and the primary artificial organs," Gilmore explained, scrolling through the broken down sections of the cybernetic specs, "Even now I could attach 002's limbs in my sleep."

           "Are you planning on making any alterations to the design?"

           "Not this time. I'd rather not add extra stress to Jet by making changes he's not expecting. I can always upgrade him later; he's used to it. However, I'd like to keep the thrusters offline until I know he's ready, so we may have to temporarily disable the neuro-connectors. He knows how to override and refuel the jets himself otherwise."

           Grant gestured to the bright neon lines streaking through the framework, dulled only by the mechanics related to the thrusters. "Is that an accelerator? Like 009?"

           "An older model, but yes. 002 rarely uses it, though that's probably for the best. He wasn't designed for heavy power output of that kind and the accelerator is draining; that power is better used for his high-speed mode. The accelerator also has a tendency to disrupt the bonding of his armor. I leave it active though, you never know. One split second could mean life or death, right, 009?"

           "Yeah," Joe muttered. There had been many split seconds, Joe thought, and Jet still never used it. He could have saved himself using it when the two of them went after the nuclear warheads in space. He could have brought down Maximoff without destroying himself with it. Had the accelerator been damaged and Jet just never said anything? Had he been that low on power?

           Gilmore led them to a smaller side-lab that also functioned as his office where he could escape his sometimes very noisy cyborgs to work on his own projects.

           "Before we head up for dinner there's one last thing to show you," he said to Dr. Grant, and went to the containment unit in the back of the room. "This is Jet Link. It's his body you'll be helping me construct."

           Once moved from the Dolphin III's lab, Gilmore had placed Jet's head in containment and ran a gamut of scans and performed full diagnostics. He'd happily reported no physical damage to Jet's brain and that the cybernetic one was still registering as acceptable. Since then Gilmore installed a new pair of eyes and replaced the tongue and some missing teeth, as well as all the scanners, the chronometer, the translator, and the near-burnt out emergency power and oxygen supplier. He also installed a new transmitter and receiver but planned to keep them offline until Jet had been conscious for a few days.

           Aside from the fact Jet's cheeks were still too hollow, he looked much more like how Joe remembered him. His hair was a bit shorter, but blond and unmatted. Francoise did a good job combing it in such a way that the patches where his hair had fallen out or been shaved were covered. The dangling vertebrae were still there and made a macabre addition but Gilmore pointed out that there were some surviving nerves he would try to preserve so the damaged vertebrae would stay intact until they fused Jet's head with his new body.

           Despite these improvements, Grant took a look at Jet and stepped back in shock.

           "I, uh…" he stammered.

           "It's okay," Joe assured him, "I know it's a bit unnerving, but trust me he looks much better than he did."

           "Yes, of course. Excuse me, I just didn't expect that, I guess."

           Gilmore's brows rose slightly in surprise at Grant's discomfort but then shrugged. "You're brilliant at cybernetics, Phineas, but you always forget cyborgs involve people."

           "Yes, yes, you're right. Sorry." Grant still hurried out of the room once he was able.

           Joe smirked. "You make the weirdest friends, Doctor."

           "Let's just hope he's still able to eat dinner," Gilmore sighed then followed his colleague back up into the house.

           The cyborgs were banned from the labs unless Gilmore specifically called for one of them.

           This may or may not have been due to uncomfortable hovering.

           As such, they went about their chores, played the same board games again and again, or sat around pretending they were reading, or working, or doing anything but thinking about what was going on in the labs below them.

           Two years they thought Jet dead, but now the fact that he wouldn't be back and walking among them for at least another week was too long for Joe to stand. He'd given up trying to play video games when he couldn't focus and kept dying and now was just sitting in front of the fireplace waiting for Gilmore to call him, even though the professor was far more likely to call Francoise if he needed one of them.

           Still, among the impatience was an underlying feeling of happiness. Jet was alive and would soon indeed be back among them. Chang already announced he was going to make the American's favorite meal for him once he recovered.

           "What would that be?" Albert asked over his newspaper.

           "Chicken curry tetrazzini."

           "I was not expecting that."

           "Well it was either that or grilled cheese sandwiches but that seemed a bit underwhelming, considering."

           "Wait," Pyunma said, "you said his favorite meal. Don't tell me you're also serving…"

           "Yes. With the tetrazzini we'll be having alcoholic root beer floats. And some crappy chicken nuggets leftover from that fast food place in town he loved so much. I would never serve such a thing normally but he loved them so…"

           "The longer in the fridge and the more congealed the grease the better, yeah."

           Chang visibly shuddered. "And for dessert…"

           "No!" Pyunma and Albert yelled simultaneously.

           "Yes! Banana slices in milk with sugar!"

           "Oh thank god I thought it was going to be something deep fried again," Pyunma sighed, "I'm not gonna eat it anyway but still."

           "I'm pretty sure Jet will be the only one eating it," Chang agreed, "But I'm going to have to get the ingredients soon, I don't have everything here."

           Albert folded his newspaper and put it on the coffee table. "We could do that now, it's not like we're doing anything. And this early in rebuilding Jet's body I doubt the professor will need our help.

           Joe leapt on the idea. "I've been thinking. Jet doesn't have any clothes. We're going to have to get him some."

           "Oh damn, you're right. Anything of his burned down with the house two years ago," Pyunma said.

           "Well," Albert fidgeted, "Not everything. He had a box in storage, but the only thing wearable in it was a pair of slippers and his old AC/DC shirt."

           "Then we'll get that for him."

           "Uh, thing is, that was the shirt he got at that concert he dragged me to. We stood around forever to get a shirt and by the time he got up to the table they didn't have his size, so he bought something a bit bigger."

           "…You've been wearing his shirt, haven't you."

           "I waited with him for that damn shirt and it fits. I mean it's kind of snug in the chest but…"

           "Is that why you always wear it when Lucy's around?" Chang snickered.

           Albert glared.

           In the end, just about every cyborg piled into two cars and drove into town. They'd barely finished asking Ivan if he wanted to go when he turned around and glared at them. He hated his car seat and drove nowhere unless absolutely required.

          It was apparently too much to ask just to buy a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts for Jet. For one thing, no one could remember what sizes he used. The other problem was Joe himself, who insisted on getting more than just the bare essentials.

           "We have to show we care, you guys! Get him some stuff he'd actually want, not just what will do."

           "He likes to do his own shopping, Joe," Albert sighed, "and he prefers to do it by himself. I don't even know where he usually bought his clothes."

           "You could just give him back his shirt, Heinrich."

           "No."

           "You don't even like AC/DC."

           Pyunma walked up carrying a few jackets and vests. "Did Jet like plaid? I can't remember."

           "Only if you're okay with him singing the 'Lumberjack Song' nonstop."

           "That's a no, then," he said and hurried away before he got sucked into whatever Joe and Albert were bitching about.

           GB was next to pop up, leaning unhappily on a shirt rack. "Unfortunate question, my lads, but was Jet a briefs or boxers man?"

           Joe sighed and rubbed at his temples. "Recently, when he had to, boxers."

           "When he had to? Don't tell me."

           "Commando. Jet had no shame. I think I saw his dick more than my own."

           "Sorry I asked. Why didn't you tell us rooming with him was so horrible, Joe?"

           "Because then you'd make sure I was stuck with him so you wouldn't have to be."

           "Damn straight."

           "Look what I found!" Francoise cried, holding up a shirt as though it was the Holy Grail. It was a hideous collared shirt with tiny American flags printed on it.

           "Put that in the cart right now. I'm going to go find an ugly tie to go with it," Albert said and ducked away into the racks.

           "What about shoes? Anyone know Jet's size?"

           "Gilmore makes Jet's shoes so he can fly with them. Don't worry about it."

           "I'm getting Jet this cute pink toothbrush and no one can stop me!"

           "Those jeans are too loose, Jet likes to show off his ass."

           "…Why do you know these things."

           "I got him a brush too!"

           "I'm pretty sure this is Jet's cologne. It smells like 'I'm trying too hard'."

           "Jet doesn't like big sweaters, Franny. He wears jackets."

           "Too bad, he's getting a giant woolen sweater. He's going to be adorable."

           "Look at this shirt. It's got a little angry eagle on it. I'm getting it for him."

           Geronimo tossed a cowboy hat into the cart without a word.

           "We're not buying him a whole wardrobe, guys!" Pyunma shouted as he looked at the overflowing cart.

[queerascat]

i found an old post about a poc ace and went on their blog and they know say they don't identify as ace because aces are bad, basically. and like, i'm literally crying. idk what to do, that just really struck me. someone who wrote about being queer, ace and a poc like me shitting on me and telling me my identity is inherently problematic when it's the reason i can't access mental health atm, which is something i need cause the 'discourse' & the violent abuse i faced on this website for (cont)

(suicide ideation, death threat and conversion tw) including death threats, caused me to fall back into suicidal ideation. and the only therapist available to me suggested conversion therapy (i live in a small central american country, there’s not much knowledge about these things- she thinks if i can be converted to straight, i will no longer suffer from my orientation). this is horrible tbh. i’m sorry to unload but as another poc ace i feel safe around you. i guess what i’m trying to say is that this ‘discourse’, which is just a bunch of people thinking they can gaslight and abuse aces or call the ‘bad’ or ‘cringy’ and don’t want to have any sort of intra community discussion but literally deny us our experiences and be abusive, is harming my mental health. friends i trusted turned out to be acephobic, send me literal death threats. in what kind of WORLD is that fucking ok? idk where im going with this, im sorry. do you know of any ways i can deal with this wave of ace and aro hatred that’s spread this website? i don’t know how to go about it. and now in the spanish speaking online lgbtq+ community, enbyphobes have copied it to exclude enbys for ‘being actually cis’ and are calling us ‘cisnb’ after regs in english calling aces and aros ‘cishet’ so that’s just fucking great :( that’s because the community is only now starting to realize enbys exist. and it’s also learning that about aspecs, so im starting to hear it in spanish too. i just can’t escape it.

i genuinely feel like i’m in no place to be giving any sort of advice on things of this nature– especially right now when i’m just managing to keep my own head above water for various reasons, but…

i’d first like to say that venting has been (and continues to be) a significant part of self-care / coping for me personally and i am beyond flattered that you feel safe enough to vent your feelings to me. no need to apologize, anon. i don’t know if i can be of any help to you, but i hope that the very act of venting in and of itself has been a step in the right direction for coping for you like it often is for me.

i also want to say that i’m very sorry to hear about all of the shit that you’ve been (and continue to be) put through. while i haven’t had your exact experiences, i can very much relate to feeling like you can’t escape “discourse” or otherwise harmful ideology as both it itself and the effects of it pervades other aspects and intersections of your life both on and outside of Tumblr. not to mention how it feels to finally find that rare, illusive something or someone that you share important but seemingly less common intersections with only to discover that that thing or person contributes to the very thing that’s, for lack of a better expression, fucking you up.

…ah, yes. like those old posts by a formerly self-identified ace and queer person of color who now not only advocates against asexuality but who does so in a way that blatantly shits on aces of color by pitching them against other QPOC, among other things. that’s some fucked up shit, ain’t it?

cough. anyway… my personal coping and self-care strategies.

my go-to strategies for coping and self-care certainly don’t work for everyone or in all situations, but with Tumblr and social media-related thing in general i often try to:

remove myself from the source of the distress.

even if only temporarily for a few hours, days, a week– whatever, i do what i can to mentally and / or physically check myself out of whatever it is that’s negatively affecting me and do my best to turn my attention to other things. i go to Starbucks, read a book, clean my apartment, focus on a personal project, catch up on shows, turn off my computer and my phone and finally make myself food– whatever. i focus on things that are actually tangible and perhaps offer some form of self-gratification even if it’s just in the form of tasting good because goddamnit, the time and cost required to get a caramel macchiato is (and quite frankly should be) far more worth it to me than the time and (mental) cost spent giving a damn about someone else’s bullshit. or so i tell myself.

if the source of the distress is outside of the internet, as might be the case with a therapist, i cut that person (or thing) out of my life even if it’s just by silently breaking off communication with them by not returning their calls or not going to their therapy sessions temporarily or indefinitely. as i said above, that person / those people / that thing is not worth the time or (mental) cost required of me by dealing with them.

limit or manage my exposure to the source of the distress when removing myself from it completely isn’t possible.

i feel like this often ends up being more taxing than simply removing myself all together, but blocking / unfollowing immediately upon coming across something or someone that can potentially or does set you off is important. blocking applies to more than just people, blogs or posts but also blacklisting tags, keywords etc using something like Xkit for Tumblr, the native block & mute features on Twitter, etc. if the distress comes in the form of asks, instant messages, etc then i disable those things at least temporarily, especially when blocking an IP fails to get the job done. i also avoid browsing through tags, which can be tough when you actively want to find something to help yourself feel better about yourself / your experiences / etc…

when the source of the distress isn’t online-based, i try to manage / limit my exposure by avoiding the person or thing in question when possible. again, actively avoiding someone or something requires effort on my part and can in and of itself be taxing, so it’s not ideal… but i do what i can.

venting.

while venting is by no means The Solution to anything and comes with its own set of risks / problems when done publicly, venting can be done in so many different ways. it’s a relatively easy form of instantly relief for me regardless of how small that relief may ultimately be. whether it be tweeting, journaling (online or pen & paper), venting on sites specifically made for that purpose, scribbling feelings onto a piece of paper and then immediately ripping that paper to shreds, typing heatedly into a text document and then closing it without saving– whatever, it helps for me to take even a moment out of my day to acknowledge how i feel and speak those feelings into existence beyond just the mess that is my own head at times. even if those feelings only exist in the world for seconds before i delete or physically destroy them because Anxiety And Shit, it still helps.

but perhaps most importantly is to:

focus on the fact that no matter what anyone else says or does, i am The Authority on who i am, how i feel, etc.

i know who i am, but i also know that who i am is not the problem even when others make me feel otherwise. regardless of how i may feel about the things that i face in regards to my sexuality, my gender, my race, etc, i try to keep in mind that those things that i face are a product of the society that i live in and the people who insist on interjecting their own personal bullshit into my life. imho, this is as true of Tumblr “discourse” as it is of life in general.

while it may not be possible to escape society or shitty people all together, there is a lot more to society and life in general than the bullshit that we find ourselves faced with at times. i try my best to look beyond or through “discourse” on Tumblr and see the communities of people both on an off Tumblr who, like me, are against such bullshit. while shitty therapists and shitty people in general may rebrand and rehash the same old tired, hurtful shit that’s been said to others for forever, i try to look past that and focus instead on the fact that a lot of people aren’t like that and have actually learned from the past and and are better for it. i try to focus on a future where i will have access to competent mental health resources and care even though i do not have that now…

…….i’m not sure why i ended up writing this short novel of a post that ultimately amounts to nothing, but yeah. anon, no matter how hard things get, please know that you’re never going at it alone. there are others out there struggling, coping, surviving in spite of the same or similar things, it’s just that if hardly anyone talks about it we end up feeling alone in it, unaware of others’ company…

….which is one reason why despite the potential risks, venting publicly even in the form of anonymous asks can be worth it sometimes and i very much welcome such asks on this blog.

all the best, anon.

[dragonbagel]

Bonded - Part 4

buckle in kiddos, this chapter’s a wild ride

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

The anxiety plaguing Rhys didn’t relent as the rest of the work day progressed, much as he hoped it would. He did feel a bit better once he was alone in his own office and distracted by debugging a virus threatening to corrupt Hyperion’s storage files, and by the time seven o’clock rolled around (because of course Rhys never failed to work overtime), the nervousness inside of him had dulled from a burning to a low discomfort.

He stopped by a Chinese restaurant to pick up dinner on his way to Jack’s, knowing that Jack had probably forgotten to eat or tried to make one of his practically inedible microwave meals. The man would probably starve to death if his freezer malfunctioned. Rhys had even found a Lunchable in the fridge once while looking for a beer, and he’d made certain to never let the alpha live that one down.

Jack had been quite appreciative when Rhys appeared at his door with the food, although Rhys saw a strange look of surprise flit across the alpha’s features before he happily let him into the penthouse. Not before he’d pulled him in for a quick kiss, of course.

“I missed you,” Jack said as he closed the door behind Rhys, no less than fifty locks sliding into place.

Rhys snorted. “Damn, clingy much?”

Jack simply scowled, leading the way to the living room and pointing to the couch.

“Movie night okay with you?”

Rhys smiled, dropping the bag of food onto the coffee table and plopping down onto the sofa. “Sounds perfect.”

Rhys’ heart fluttered at the smile on Jack’s face, because dammit if he was making Jack happy then clearly he was doing something right for once. Jack settled onto the couch beside him, patting down the cushions in search of the TV remote as Rhys began pulling their food out of the takeout bag. One of Jack’s hands landed on Rhys’ crotch in a not-at-all-accidental manner, and Rhys nearly dropped the container he was holding.

“Quit it!” he hissed, although he was more amused than anything.

Jack shot him a devilish grin before squeezing Rhys a few times, teasing. The omega elbowed him far harder than necessary.

“Can we at least have dinner first?” Rhys asked, sighing.

Jack grabbed his food from the table and broke open a pair of chopsticks, winking at Rhys as he did so. He started shoveling his food into his mouth with a mad determination, going so quickly that noodles started dropping from the container to his lap.

Rhys simply laughed as he ate his meal at a normal speed and degree of cautiousness; not everyone had the cash for a new suit just lying around.

“What happened to dinner and a movie?” Rhys said, utterly amused at Jack’s ministrations.

The alpha groaned. “C’mon babe, it’s been like a week.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, causing Jack to bounce his eyebrows.

“You know you want this handsome dick.”

“I want to eat my food in peace,” Rhys retorted.

“Fine,” Jack grumbled, turning on the TV with the remote that was not, in fact, in Rhys’ pants.

Rhys ate fairly quickly as Jack flipped through the channels. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t really eaten since the few bites he’d taken at their nightmarish lunch date. He could still feel some of that underlying uncertainty, anxiety, whatever the hell this thing was grinding his insides together, sitting with him as he drizzled more soy sauce onto his rice. With Jack’s attention focused on the pay-per-view movie channels, Rhys booted up his ECHOeye to run a system check. Maybe this was all just some cybernetics malfunction that could be fixed and over within a few days.

The scan, to Rhys’ dismay, yielded zero results. Instead, an email alert popped up, temporarily obscuring the vision in his left eye. It was from Baron Flynt, and Rhys begrudgingly opened it. He didn’t really want to think about work right now but, then again, when wasn’t he thinking about work?

The message, about two paragraphs in its entirety, reiterated the same corporal bullshit that Rhys had seen a million times before: Atlas was oh-so happy at this opportunity, thank you Hyperion for not bowling over us, et cetera, et cetera.

His ego-boosting reading was interrupted, however, by an annoyed huff from Jack.

“Sorry,” Rhys said sheepishly, raising his hands in surrender and powering down his ECHOeye. He knew how much Jack hated work invading their private life.

“Yeah, whatever,” Jack said bitterly before bouncing back to his usual infuriatingly energetic self. “While you were all busy moping and adult-ing, I found us a little something to watch.”

“I swear to god Jack if you try to make me watch porn with you one more fucking time I’ll--”

“Relax, kitten,” Jack said, laughing. “You disabled all my adult movie channels, remember?”

Rhys snorted. “And for good reason.”

Jack looked ready to protest but Rhys quieted him by pressing his lips onto his, pulling back after a few moments. “Let’s finish dinner and then maybe I’ll blow you during the movie-- if you’re lucky.”

The grin stretching across Jack’s face was obscenely wide, and Rhys felt color rising to his cheeks. He loved teasing Jack like this, loved making him happy. Yet there was another part of him that most definitely did not love this. Something felt wrong, very wrong, and the fact that he couldn’t find the source of his aggravation somehow made the situation even worse.

Rhys ate the rest of his meal in silence, which Jack took to be his complete enthrallment in the old Western movie that he’d for some reason actually paid money for. Cowboys and rodeos certainly weren’t Rhys’ definition of entertainment, and he’d told that to Jack on multiple occasions (to which he’d only received “but guns are cool babe” as a response).

He just couldn't seem to put his finger on what this...nagging was inside of him. It felt basic, instinctual, like there was nothing outward that could either cause or relieve it. Had he been taking his heat suppressors? The answer, as always, was yes, considering the degree to which he needed the medication to mask his smell. But then...

His face fell as he realized what was happening; it was the bond. An omega was supposed to be near their alpha at all times, needing protection and reassurance and all that super outdated jazz. His biology never failed to fuck him over; he had heats, for fuck's sake, even though there was clearly no way for their intended reproduction to ever occur, what with his lack of a uterus. He'd spent his life fighting his genetics, his instincts that told him to submit and obey, his scent that put him in constant danger of being taken advantage of. And now, despite all his efforts, he was at the whims of a stupid bond that he didn't want in the first place.

He mentally shook his head. There was no way he was going to back down now or admit defeat. He would do what he always did: he'd fight it.

So when the bond told him to stay as far away as possible from Jack, an "unfamiliar" alpha, he did the exact opposite, setting down his now-empty plate and crawling closer to Jack. The alpha smirked as Rhys situated himself in his lap, burying his face in the juncture between Jack's neck and shoulder.

"Well hello there, Rhysie," Jack said, sounding smug.

Rhys didn't respond, instead beginning to suck a bruise on Jack's collarbone and then kiss up and down his neck.

"This movie's boring," Rhys said, pausing his assault on Jack's neck.

Jack laughed. "I know, pumpkin."

Rhys simply groaned. "Then why the hell would you pick it? There are plenty of other things we'd been meaning to watch and--"

"Rhys," Jack said, interrupting his tirade with a smirk as he slid his hands around to cup Rhys' ass. "Stop talking so much."

Rhys huffed angrily, wriggling in Jack's lap.

“If this movie's too boring for you, we can always just head to the bedroom a bit earlier," the alpha said, smirking.

Rhys groaned, dropping his forehead against Jack's shoulder, which was shaking from his laughter at Rhys' annoyance.

"You picked this movie on purpose, didn't you?"

"Aww, come on Rhysie, don't pout," Jack said, pressing his nose into the top of Rhys' head. 

"I wanted to watch that stupid movie Yvette's been going on about so she'd finally shut up," Rhys grumbled, although his voice contained no malice. He was a bit too preoccupied with Jack's hard-on pressing against his thigh and the way the alpha had started nosing around his neck, scenting him.

"Why don't we watch it in my bed after I've fucked you into next week?"

Rhys rolled his eyes at Jack's shit-eating grin, but the lust in Jack's eyes was making his body go haywire with desire. 

The omega nodded, wrapping his arms around Jack's neck as the alpha lifted them both to stand before guiding Rhys towards his bedroom.

"You're an asshole," Rhys said as Jack began to strip him of his clothes. He'd at least thought to change from his work outfit, considering the last time he'd worn it to Jack's the other man had practically torn it to shreds in horny eagerness. "But I love you."

Jack smiled, and Rhys knew that his face was flushing beneath his mask. "I love you too, kitten. Now get on your back so I can wreck you."

Jack was talented at everything he did. That much was obvious to anyone with eyes and at least one brain cell, considering he was the youngest CEO in the history of Hyperion and had led the company to an unprecedented level of profit and power. He was also a smooth talker, a solid businessman, and an overall nice guy to talk to (as long as you weren't on his bad side). His ability to murder bandits in a litany of creative methods was, although Rhys' weak stomach didn't always agree, nothing short of awe-inspiring. The majority of Helios either wanted to be Jack or be on Jack.

Luckily for Rhys, he had the man wrapped around his finger. He also knew the almost impossible degree to which Jack's skills manifested in another area: the bedroom.

Sure, Rhys had had some pretty great sex before. He'd also had average sex, not to mention shitty sex to the degree of practically needing to be repressed. But Jack-- Jack was on a whole other level. Rhys was instinctually submissive in the sheets, and as much as Jack exhibited his primal need to dominate, he never did so in a way that made Rhys feel unsafe or taken advantage of. It wasn't hard to manipulate an omega during sex, especially when that sex occurred while in heat. Apply the right touches to his bonding site and fuck him into a state of bliss, and he would turn to putty, willing to follow any commands despite his typical refusal to do so. It wasn't his fault, of course; the tranquility and submissiveness caused by stimulation both sexually and on his bonding site were just more "perks" to his endotype.

But with Jack... with Jack, Rhys felt safe. At least, he usually did. Now, however, as he laid in Jack's bed watching old game show reruns on mute as the time ticked ever later, he felt off. His body was quite happy, covered in drying sweat and deliciously sore; but his mind was another story. Strange intrusive thoughts told Rhys that he was a traitor, that he should feel guilty and horrible about what he'd done. At some conscious level, Rhys knew that it was just the bond fucking with him, and  that having amazing sex with Jack was nothing short of a privilege. But his defenses were weakened, his resolve softened by the euphoria of an orgasm and reinforced acting as the submissive omega that his genes wanted him to be.

As if the shame wasn't bad enough, Jack's scent was repulsive to him; never mind the fact that hours ago he'd been desperate to cover every inch of his body in it. His scent was wrong, and it rankled something deep within Rhys. Having the scent of an alpha other than the one that was technically his coating his skin and surrounding him was nothing short of traitorous, and his body was doing everything in its power to remind him of that.

Rhys rolled over onto his side to look at Jack, who had passed out an hour ago and was now lightly snoring. His unmasked face was relaxed and at ease, and Rhys found himself feeling jealous. Didn't Jack know that he'd done something wrong, that he'd slept with someone else's omega?

Rhys grimaced at his train of thought, knowing it was ridiculous yet being unable to stop it. He needed Jack's scent off of him, and he needed it off now. He peeled the covers off of himself as he quietly slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb Jack even though he knew the other man slept like the dead. He headed into Jack's obscenely large bathroom, splashing a bit of water on his face in an attempt to bring himself back to his senses. 

Unfortunately, he had no such luck. 

Sighing, he stripped off his boxers, placing what he checked to make sure was a clean, unscented towel outside the shower before stepping inside. He quickly scrubbed his skin raw with the high-end soap bar that no doubt cost three figures, ridding himself of the smell of Jack and that of sex.

Even after he'd dried himself off, he still felt dirty. He left his boxers in a pile in the corner, deciding he'd rather sleep naked than put anything with Jack's scent back onto his now-clean body. He soon realized, however, that to go back to sleep, he'd have to crawl back underneath the sheets, thereby re-surrounding himself with the alpha's stench. And that simply wouldn't do. Rhys slid open the linen closet from which he'd grabbed the towel to find a large, fresh blanket. When he pressed it to his nose, it only smelled like lavender laundry detergent. Perfect.

Wrapping the blanket around his body like some cross between a cape and a burrito, he walked back into the bedroom, relieved to see that Jack was still asleep. He pulled the covers taut over his side of the bed before climbing on top of them, making sure that his body was only touching the clean blanket. What with the fact that it was honestly more of a comforter, he was easily able to cover the pillow with it before laying down, only having to pull his gangly legs slightly up towards his chest in order to fit them on the blanket. 

He took one last look at Jack's peaceful face before completely cocooning himself in the blanket, sealing himself in a scentless warmth. 

This time when he closed his eyes, he was finally able to sleep.   

[cyberdelusionphilosopher-blog]

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why car insurance agent put 16 on car insurance quote even you got your license when you were 18...?

""Got my first speeding ticket, will my insurance go up?

Im 20yrs old if that matters.. And this is only my first ticket. I was going 80mph on a 70mph. Will my insurance go up? If u know please tell me. I have state farm.

How much will motorcycle insurance cost me in CA?

I'm 20 years old college student, I'm getting the 2013 Ninja 300 (my first bike), I have had no accidents driving my car since I've started driving. I haven't gotten my motorcycle liciense yet, how much will it cost me on average..?""

""Hit a mailbox, will cost $2,500 to fix, how much will my insurance go up?""

The other night i crashed into a mailbox. It was completely my fault and it will cost $2,500 to fix it. I was wondering how much my insurance premium will go up per year about? I am 20 years old and have gotten 1 ticket before.""

Insurance question?

When setting up your insurance online does the company know how many years NCB you have? if not could you lie?

Health insurance for a pregnant college student?

Okay, so my baby is due in August, and that will be in between semesters. so the only way that my parents insurance will cover me is if I am still considered a full time student, which means I'd have to be enrolled in the next fall semester. By then my baby would only be a month old, and my university is 4 hours away from my mom. so my question is: what other ways could i get health insurance? is there a good online school that i could do, and would i be considered a full time student if i took online classes? and/or what companies offer health insurance benefits and what do you have to do to be eligible? thanks!""

liability auto insurance quote

liability auto insurance quote

Car insurance?

I am a newly licensed driver and i dont know who insures them. Please help. I am 19 and own a jeep cher. If you are or know anyone that could help it would thanked. I am also in California.

""If the mandate to buy health insurance wont stand the supreme court review, why am I forced to buy...?

car insurance in the state of California?

""Out of these cars, which one will have the cheapest insurance?

Suzuki Forenza 2007 Mazda3 2005

""If I am under my wife's health insurance plan, do i need to get my own insurance under Obamacare?""

Currently, my kids and I are under my wife's health insurance plan. I heard that if we stay under her plans, we will be penalized once this Obamacare goes into effect.""

Riding a 49cc scooter in NY without insurance?

can you register a 49cc scooter with the dmv without having insurance for it first? and what are the fines if i get pulled over riding the scooter without insurance? the cheapest insurance i can get is with progressive and it's 531$ a year! thats too much!

How much can i spend on a car with the money i make?

im 17 years old and i have a job that pays $8.30 an hour and i work about 16 hrs per week, and i also tutor afterschool, for $20 dollars an hour, for 6 hours, so i make about $240 a week, and im planning to get a car, but i dont know what car i could afford. how much money can i spend in a car if i have monthly car payments?, oh yea plus insurance. thanks""

Anyone claimed their Car a Wreak through their insurance before? what happens exactly?

Ok, so my car has Hail damage ALL over it from a recent storm. I am covered for insurance but i wanna know what to do?! i can't call them at this stage cos they call centre is down :( SO, if my car is worth $30,000 & the damage is worth about $5,000 - $7,000 how do they work out if it's considered a wreak or not? My premium is about $1000 (cos i'm under the age of 25) so what happens if they declare it a wreak? Do i just get a cheque and then they take the car? or what? If anyone has had their car considered a wreak through insurance before, please enlighten me :) Thanks x""

What states don't require auto insurance?

As a young driver auto insurance is way to expensive. Since I drive a Mercedes most quote me at thousands of dollars a year. More than what I can afford. I know some states don't require car insurance if you can prove you have the financial means to pay out if you cause an accident. I need a list of those states that don't require auto insurance if you can prove you can afford to pay out. On top of this question how do I prove I can afford it. Do I need to keep a minimum amount of money in a bank account or do I have to buy a bond how does it work. And if it works with a bond or bank account please list the states with the minimum $ you need in bonds or account money. The reason Im asking is that I can easily get a minimum amount in my account (hopefully under $10,000) because id rather have $10,000 sitting in a bank I cant use than having to pay thousands a year for insurance I don't need. I been driving for 3 years and I never had an accident and im confident I never will (at least not one that's my fault) so I don't wanna waste thousands of dollars I need for my school. The reason Im asking is cause im looking for a state that suits me. So far Vermont and new Hampshire have laws to my liking but hopefully you guys can give me more possibilities by answering this question. Thanks""

Where is the best place to get an online car insurance quote?

Well, I just got a new car and need to get insurance. I was wondering what the best site is for insurance quotes and where I can get the cheapest insurance? Thank you in advance!""

What insurance company offer the best auto insurance quote?

What insurance company offer the best auto insurance quote?

Best insurance companies for 18 year old passed my tes?

ok ive pased my test a month on friday and i gettin a car this week and i need some insurance on the car obviiously lol, well basically whats the cheapest car insurance all you 18 year old have and who is it with, please :)""

Why do people buy insurance?

is it for saving or protection of life? What are the reasons that motivate people to buy insurance?

""In the state of Texas,Do you have to have auto insurance?""

If you are in a car wreck which the other person is at fault,Can you still file a cliam on their insurance company and have phisical therapy paid and can paid for the damage for the car and get paid for pain and suffering? Even if the insurance was off for less than 24 hours""

What is the average cost of life insurance?

I know individual circumstances apply, but there must be an average monthly cost somewhere. 33 years old, Looking for term life insurance, 500K I was just given a monthly quote for $28 per month""

Can i switch my health insurance policy -?

hello, i work for a small consulting firm , < 10 employees..on their w2. they provide me a group health insurance for my family (me ,wife and < 1yr old kid) and i pay around $900 every month without vision and dental coverage..all my contribution..and it is with united health care group now - with this new obamacare what options do i have 1. if i switch , will i get a cheaper coverage ? 2. what is that policy exchange ..i hear this a lot these days 3. if i had to switch my policy.who should i approach.. what would you advise for me..pleae advise me on getting a cheaper coverage""

Free Health Insurance?

no it didn't help. it has nothing to do with health insurance

Fuel economy and average insurance prices of mitsubishi 3000gt?

I'm thinking of getting a 1991 Mitsubishi 3000gt. I would prefer the VR4 (DUH!), but if I can't find one(Right now I can find 3, so I'm not too concerned), I'll just get the SL. I don't want the base model. So what is the average fuel economy of this car( vr4 and sl)? And the average insurance prices? Anybody have experience with owning this car? I've heard that it's fairly cheep to insure, because it's considered a coupe by insurance companies, instead of being recognized as the high performance sports car that it is. Is this true? And is it as fun as it looks? ;)""

""First time buyer buys a new car, how much was your interest RATE?""

Maybe I mean insurance instead of interest, I'm not sure, I don't know that much. I've heard that first time buyers, when buying a car, had little to no interest simply because they've never bought before. Is this true? Please give examples.""

How much would it cost to insure my scooter?

I'm looking for a fairly inexpensive way to get around So I found a 49 cc Honda Ruckus moped/scooter that I'm looking to buy and insure (because of mandatory insurance laws in Florida) How much would it cost to insure it if I'm looking for the lowest available plan for be in the confides of Florida law. I keep it inside my house at night. and BOTH if I HAVE HAD a learners permit for a year and DON'T and just got a license I'm 18 and want to see if the savings will be worth waiting a year to drive the thing.

Can a dying person get life insurance?

I found out recently that my terminally ill father-in-law has no life insurance, or only a tiny policy. How can we pay for a funeral?""

When will we be required to have health insurance?

When will government make us buy insurance?

""How can I find affordable health insurance that covers chiropractic adjustments, acupuncture, or both?""

I live in Colorado. I only make slightly above minimum wage. I am not eligible for health care benefits through work. I have a chronic issue and am in pain if I do not go. I spend $250 on chiropractic and $250 on acupuncture for a grand total of $500 a month. Is there a health insurance plan that could cover either one or both kinds of treatments for less than $500 a month? If not, I will just continue to pay out of pocket although it is very expensive.""

Good health insurance for a small family?

My husband and i are looking to health insurance for our family and i was wondering if any one knew of a good company (in Florida) that was affordable. He is 21, I'm 17 and our daughter is 10 months. We are also expecting another one in November and need prenatal care as soon as possible. Thanks.""

Is it illigal to drive without having the proof of insurance IN your car.?

I have insuarance and i will be getting the papers tuesday. Is it legal in Texas to drive without the pyhsical papers, even though I have the insurance.""

""Moving to Toronto Canada, Need Car Insurance?""

I am moving to toronto, canada and looking to see what company provides the best coverage for the lowest cost as I understand insurance is privatized in Toronto.""

liability auto insurance quote

liability auto insurance quote

What lawyer is best to sue an insurance company?

kid was killed in car accident and want to sue the drivers insurance because all 3 boys died. the insurance company is only offering a certain amount but i want more. who should i call

How much would a 2010 mustang cost to insure under your parents insurance and if you are the primary driver?

My dad is going to finance it so we will split up the pay I woyld pay for the car monthly which I can afford and my dad pays insurance monthly

How much would it cost me to get a motorbike include CBT and insurance?

I am 18 years old. I am wondering how much would it cost me to have a yamaha R1+CBT+cheap insurance. please help

What is the cheapest motorcycle insurance?

so im gonna get a motorcycle but i dont know much about all the insurance and stuff..and i just wanted to know which is the cheapest? i go to school with a guy who pays $80 every 3 months, which is only about $26 every month, which seems like a pretty good deal.""

Why would someone buy life insurance from Colonial Penn (whoever that is)?

instead of a reputable well known insurance carrier? Second question: Seniorites, do you remember the boob tube without googling.""

How much do teens pay for car insurance a month?

If i am 17 years old buying a brand new 2009 car sedan about how much will i pay monthly on insurance?

What would Jesus do I f he didn't have car Insurance?

what would Jesus do I f he didn't have car Insurance ? and there was no help from god?

Can I use my no claims discount for scooter insurance?

I am seriously considering dumping the car and using a scooter. I have full no claims discount on my car insurance, would I be able to use this on my scooter insurance? If not, would I loose that no claims I have built up i.e. if i go back to driving a car will I start again with zero no claims discount. This is a UK based question.""

Does it cost anything to add someone to your insurance policy?

Does it cost anything to add someone to your insurance policy?

What auto insurance company has the best rates for teenagers?

i live in ontario ca if that helps and i drive a 95 caprice

What kind of insurance?

What kind of (liability) insurance would i get for a restaurant i'm thinking about opening? I don't know how to find out so if someone could suggest some to me :) Thanks!

How do you compare insurance for Yamaha R6 and Ninja 300?

I just want general idea of motorcycle insurance cost between these two bikes.

If you separate from your hubby and the health insurance is through him would I still be covered??

or do I have to get my own policy?

Has anyone heard of transamerica health insurance and if so is it worth it??

Thinking about getting insurance and would like some input on the Co.

Mortgage Life insurance or regular Life insurance?

My husband and I got information on Mortgage Life Insurance which basically is kind of like Life Insurance I guess and pays off your mortgage if someone dies. For example, our house is $180,000 and I die in 10 years and the mortgage balance is $80,000 then my husband still gets the original $180,000. He can use this to pay off the mortgage plus have money left over and use for whatever. This sounds like a great deal to get but I want to get other people's opinions who know information on this. It is called Forester Mortgage life insurance. Also, what is the difference between this and regular life insurance? Is regular life insurance better? Thanks!""

What car and insurance?

hi can anyone help my daughter wants a car she likes the fiat punto td sx i think it is and the vauxhall corsa merit and the citroen saxo and the ford ka and fiesta what is the best car for a first time car and what has the most cheap insurance as it would be a provisional licsence ? and what website has the most cheap insurance? if anybody has any idears for any other cars like these please help also is auto trader any good? thanks any Question plz ask

I need liability insurance?

I'm 20 years old almost 21 and I've had a permit for a year next month on the 14th. I want to get a driver's license asap. I know I need liability insurance in order to get it but how do I do that if I can't get insurance without a license? Everytime I call the dmv they say I have to go in person to have my question answered only problem with that is I live 20 miles from the nearest one and no way to get there in the day time. Someone please help!

Health Insurance question?

I live in California and I will be 20 years old when I have my baby. I am currently still on my parents health insurance plan and all of my prenatal visits are covered and I believe my hospital stay is also. My boyfriend and I are not married yet and we live together I am not currently working. And I am aware I need to get insurance for my baby from her being born on but does anyone have any suggestions of what company to use? Could I still be approved fr a low income plan?

How much is insurance for young drivers?

Young drivers 18 & over

Can I buy car insurance if the photo on my driving license needs renewing?

Hi. Ok I appreciate I am technically breaking the law on a number of fronts with this. I have bought a car, It is taxed and tested. It is parked on the road. However I don't have any insurance and the photograph on my license has expired. It is still possible for me to buy insurance (and therefore make the car itself fully legal) before I have received my new license? Reading the DVLA websites implies I can. The license is still valid it just needs renewing. I have no convictions, health issues, etc. Just wanted to make sure as I don't want to pick up a load of points just for a misunderstanding. Thanks!!""

Do parents really expect their teens in highschool to pay for their own cars?

Its enraging when I hear my parents/parents in general tell their kids, who have their licenses to pay for a car yourself . Not even a split? A loan? These kids are still in highschool! Even after highschool in college, I just don't see how one can pay for even a cheap used car themselves unless they dedicate their life and save every penny for the damn car. People that age usually earn close to minimum wage, and if they spend all their time working instead of studying, that's all their ever going to make. Ex) my friend earns 9.25 hourly at a grocery store (he's worked there for a while so its not exact minimum wage), and works 40 hours a week. He is ALWAYS at work. At the end of the week, his checks are worth about 338 after taxes. A crappy used car is probably about 5000? I'm not fully sure. Someone that age would have to work 40 hours a week for quite a long time. Since they're teenagers, that would pretty much leave them no time for studying/doing homework and a social life in general. Don't parents want their children to perform well academically as well? Aside from financial issues of their own, why wouldn't a parent with a decent amount of money atleast agree to help their responsible teenager pay for a used or inexpensive car? I'm not suggesting brand new BMWs or mercades, but why not like an 06/07 used toyota or honda in good condition? Why not agree to help pay for.half or a smaller fraction of it? And don't they get sick of their kids always using their cars? What do you think?""

How would you fix health care in the US?

I feel good and bad about this law. I'm conservative. I don't entirely agree with the law. But it's good that people are able to get on an affordable insurance plan if they have a pre-existing condition rather than being left out to die. But what about the people who are getting kicked off insurance plans and now have to pay even higher rates than they already were? I get a subsidy for my plan. I don't feel like I deserve it. I saw a lady on the news who had cancer and couldn't get insurance. I feel like she is the one who deserves a subsidy so she can get a plan. How do you feel about this law? And what happens if a Republican gets into office or they control the legislative branch in 2014 and repeal the law? Then what?

How much is car insurance for an inexperienced first year driver 18 years old in North Carolina?

Like can I get estimates from each company. I've never had a license and my family refuses to pay for my car insurance...so I have to pay it...

How come different auto insurance agencies charge different prices for the same insurance company?is it a scam?

yes i went to three different insurance agencys to see what quotes theyll give me. one say said ill pay 50 a month and 140 down payment for access auto insurance . the other agency said ill pay 60 a month and 90 down payment for the same company. and the third agency said i would probably not qualify for access auto insuranc. im 20 year old male riverside ca 94 accord. why would three different agencys quote diferently for the same auto company ? whyyy is it a scam

Can an auto insurance company suspend my license?

I was hit by a woman in a parking lot. In Texas where I live, certain parking lots are no fault zones if they are private property. I was in one of these no fault zones. I was uninsured at the time. She had Uninsured Motorist Protection as part of her insurance policy. I suffered no damages to my vehicle or person. She suffered $1500 worth of vehicular damage. Her insurance company paid for her damages. I was backing out of a parking space and she came flying around the corner and messed up the entire passenger door of her car on my rear bumper. Like I said I received no damage to my vehicle since I was the one barely moving. She called the police immediately after this minor accident took place. I was not cited on the ticket I received for any accident, only for no insurance. The officer informed me verbally that the accident was my fault only because she had the right of way but that there was nothing they could do about it because of the no fault zone policy. Anyway, now her insurance company is coming after me to collect payment of the $1500 they paid for her damages. I have not agreed to pay this amount because it was a no fault zone and I don't feel I should pay for it. She should not have been going that fast in a busy parking lot with a car full of kids. Although the unofficial technicality states that I was at fault, legally no one was at fault. Her insurance company is also threatening to have my license suspended if I do not pay the amount specified. I did not think that they, as a private company, had the power to have that happen. I've never been in this situation before and need an answer as to whether or not the insurance company can do that or if its just some kind of scare tactic to jolt me into paying but really has no merit behind it. Someone please help!""

liability auto insurance quote

liability auto insurance quote

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