#and he always sounds so excited talking about the great work these researchers are doing

[transmechanicus]

Am not gonna lie, considering David Attenborough's documentaries got me through the toughest month right before my prelim exams, it really is heartwarming to know he's fighting for trans ppl, he's so fucking kind and im tearing up.

[animeafro]

mha boys x black! reader :3

HOW MHA BOYS WOULD INTERACT WITH YOUR NATURAL HAIR

ꕥ summary: all of the mha boys are (presumably) unfamiliar with black hair, so i thought it'd be fun to headcanon their behavior with a partner who has natural hair!

ꕥ includes: izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, eijirou kirishima, denki kaminari, katsuki bakugo

ꕥ warnings: slight nsfw for bakugo and kaminari, otherwise just fluff :)

Izuku: 

Is curious about your hair but doesn't wanna ask too many questions for fear of sounding disrespectful, so he conducts his own “research project” by spending hours on YouTube watching natural hair creators and learning how your hair is cared for

He takes notes on the different hair types, determines which kind yours must be, and curates his remaining research based on that

Randomly shows up one day with a bunch of expensive natural hair products that he thinks might work for you since you often complain about how hard your hair is to maintain and how you don’t wanna invest in expensive products that may not work for you

Follows you into the bathroom and convinces you to let him do your wash day for you

It takes some guidance from you (the detangling process is not as easy as they made it look in the videos) but he does great!

You're shocked at how well he managed to define your curls. Your hair damn near looks like you went to a curly salon to get it done!

He even learns how to define his own curls in the process! But you both end up preferring his signature fluffy style instead.

Shoto:

Doesn’t mention anything about your hair for a while, but secretly wonders about it

When you talk to Momo and Mina about your routine during a conversation about hair care, his ears perk up. He listens intently, but still doesn’t say anything

The next time he comes over, your hair is in braids. “Your hair is different,” he observes. “Do you like it?” you question. “Yeah, you look… gorgeous. How did you do that?”

His curiosity gets the best of him, and the next 10 minutes is a flurry of questions he's been holding himself back from asking. “So why'd you put it in braids? What's a protective style? How long can you keep them in? How do you wash it? Why do you have to put oil in it?” He can't help but be in awe at how different your hair is from his own

Since he’s so interested, you offer to give him a few temporary braids, just for fun. After scrolling Pinterest for a while for inspiration, you both agree on giving him some cornrows on the top of his head

He is incredibly tender headed. He winces every time you pick up a new piece of hair to add into the braid, even though you’re braiding rather loosely

After you’re done you show him in the mirror, and he falls in love with it. “It looks so cool,” he beams, his usually deadpan tone taking on a hint of an excited lilt.

“Can you do it again for me tomorrow?” he turns to you to meet your gaze, his eyes wide with admiration. how could you say no to that face?

Denki: 

Loves everything about your natural hair

You always have to swat his hands away because he’s constantly reaching up to play with it, saying it feels so soft like a pillow and it’s not fair for you to keep it all to yourself

When you put your hair in long box braids he’s confused as to how it grew so fast, but he just assumes it’s something that black people can do and doesn’t question it. Maybe it has something to do with that “shrinkage” you’re always complaining about…

When he sees you braiding your hair, he insists that you should do his next. He doesn’t care about how his hair is styled nearly as much as he just likes having his hair played with

Gets hard every time you put on your bonnet

Kirishima: 

Tries to convince you to dye it red so that you two can match

Part of your morning routine with him is you both standing in front of the bathroom mirror, him spiking up his hair with ungodly amounts of gel and you working on whatever curly style you’ve chosen for the day

One lazy Saturday, you guys decide it’d be fun to do each other’s hair

Since the gel is available, you decide to try giving him finger waves. His hair is super thick, and on the longer side, so it’s not easy to get the waves right, but eventually you manage to finesse it into a style that looks close enough to finger waves. He won’t know the difference anyway, you think to yourself

Meanwhile, he sculpts your afro into a star shape. He marvels at how your hair can stick up on its own, without any gel. He wishes his hair would do the same so he wouldn’t have to spend so much money on product

When you reveal each other’s hairstyles in the mirror, you both overflow with giggles, admiring one another’s artistic visions

Of course, he insists, the session is not complete without a backyard photoshoot!

Bakugo: 

Won’t really ask questions but when you’re in the bathroom, styling your hair with the door open, he’s off to the side, observing with bated curiosity (unbeknownst to you)

He’s always careful not to touch or mess up your hair since he knows how much effort you put into it

That’s why he prefers when your hair is in a protective style– because then you let him pull it

He likes to buy you things for your hair– silk scarves, braid jewelry– he even pays attention to when you’re running out of your favorite products and buys refills for you since he knows you always forget

One day he buys you a pair of hair clips with his signature orange & black explosions on them. Gets a good chuckle when he notices that you’ve been wearing them nearly every day, the other hair pieces lying neglected in your cabinet

But why wouldn't you want to rep your man every day?

POST FORMAT CREDIT TO @rumisgf i haven't figured out how to make pretty posts myself yet lol

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"The Test." Part One. Sugar Daddy AU. Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Sugar Baby Reader.

Okay! OKAY! SO! Do you all remember this, from Kinky/Do-Over-December back in the day? A Stu Macher sugar daddy AU I was fucking around with? This is set in that AU again, in said fic, I mentioned a little beach house weekend getaway with some breaking and entering Ghostface role play, this? Is that! Fully realized, or at least, partially realized for now. This thing is long, I have been working on it on and off for over a fucking YEAR! I started it shortly after I met Matt and Skeet last summer at fan expo, (can you guess why I was feeling inspired?) So because this is so long, (12.6K as of right now) I figured, why not break it up into two parts? And if you guys like it a lot, I might do some more! This is meant to be a three day weekend and this thing when it is done will be just the first night technically, so hit me up and let me know what you think!

PART TWO NOW HERE!

---

Rating. Explict. Length. 7.6K. Billy Loomis/Stu Mach/Sugar Baby FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Age Gap. Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. Sex Work Is Real Work. We Respect Sex Work. Talk Of Sex. Vaginal Fingering. Talk Of Threesome. Extreme Role Play. Mask Kink. Breaking And Entering. Masturbation. Chase. Predetor/Prey. Stalking. Voyeurism. Restrained Reader. Knife Kink. Dirty Talk. Threatening And Possessive Behavior.

---

Initially, it wasn’t something you put much stock into. I mean, it was one of those things that sounded too good to be true, you make a profile, you meet up with men, if you click, and they like you, they pay you to spend time with you. They take you out on dates, and buy you things and sure, they fuck you, but still you could do that? Get paid money to be good company, attractive and a great sexual partner? You think you could at least attempt it. So you figured why not, after some serious online research and looking into other people who had been successful at sugaring you decided to give it a go. You find one of these sites, you spend a good two days on your profile before it goes live and then, you wait. 

When you got your first message, it was honestly pretty exciting, even though you never ended up meeting with said first person, it got you more sure about the process. After some more interest, you end up starting it in earnest. 

You meet up in a public location, the first meeting is always feeling each other out, the next one, if there is one, is getting to know each other better, and then the next is talking about expectations on both sides. You have some real duds here and there, but over time you cultivate some good and regular clients, you make friends on your sites of choice as well as while working, a lot of the guys who look for girls like you tend to keep similar company. Regularly you go to parties or work events or the like and come across another girl just like you and begin to form relationships with them, some becoming good friends because they got it, understood what you went through because they were in it themselves. 

The guys you saw were overall good, you didn’t even have a sexual relationship with all of them, not everyone who seeks out girls in your line of work even want that, a lot just want company, to be heard, or to have someone to show off, and you made for very good arm candy.

You’d been doing good, barely had to do any regular work, still had a part-time job, but most of your lifestyle was paid for by the guys who you saw and entertained and the quality of your life had improved massively at that. You had experience and a good reputation, so when a regular client dropped off, as they sometimes do, he moved too far to be able to continue to see you as he liked, you needed someone to fill the gap. In no particular rush, still fairly comfortable, you were able to be picky about who you accepted into your life. When you got the message from him, it wasn’t this huge defining moment, it was plain and perfectly average, but aren’t most things that end up being fantastic? 

After some regular chatting back and forth together, you and he agree to a meeting, lunch out at one of your favourite spots for testing out a new potential client. 

To say that your life totally changed after that lunch would be incorrect. It was more of a slow burn. Stu Macher was significantly older than you, attractive, had some job pertaining to finance, runs in the family apparently, and had money to toss around. You are not the first girl he’d had in an arrangement like this but, he told you, he has some particular qualities he is looking for in a long term set up. He was up front and honest, he wanted to see you more, he liked you, thought you and he got along well, and you thought the same, but he wanted to test you out. 

“Test me out how?” You asked, and he said, “Like we see each other for a few months and see how it goes, if this can be what I’ve been looking for.”

Interesting. You appreciate his candour if nothing else, you can get behind someone who is explicit and clear about what they want, especially in this respect. “Can I ask what it is that you are looking for?” 

He has this smile that is dripping in undeniable charm before he speaks, “No need to rush, right? Let’s have some fun and not stress.” You assumed that is what will tell him if this, and by extension you, are “right.” 

You could do that, could be fun and easy and go with the flow. What did you have to lose?

Stu is a fun guy, he works hard and is desperate to have a good time and de-stress, you take that want seriously and he takes notice. You do all manner of things together, mostly he plans dates, but you suggest some once you get more comfortable, and he likes that, it not being all up to him, more of a joint effort after a certain point. You clean up amazingly well, he can bring you to any event he wants to, and you slot right in. As for the physical aspect, you didn’t rush into it, but once you got there, it was kind of hard to stop. It became a very frequent thing, you did not mind at all, especially because it led to a slow shift, Stu wanted you around more and more, other clients got in the way of that. 

It was the afternoon, you’d been with Stu since the previous evening, you were trying to leave because you had to go get ready for an event someone else was taking you out to, and he didn’t want you to go. You were sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get your boots on, getting the rest of your outfit back on thus far had been a total fight, he was currently holding you. Arms were loose around your neck as he was leaning into you, “Come on, stay. Let me take you out to that dinner spot you like, the one that we hit up last month, the rooftop place that does the pasta thing-” 

You cut him off with a grin and a laugh, “Stu, I can’t, I have to go. I’ve already stayed way later than I was supposed to but I gotta go home, shower, change…” His arms had slipped down, hands rest on your arms near your elbows, he was laying some kisses along your neck, and you let out a groan with a roll of your eyes, “Knock it off.” You try to let the smile drop off your face as you complain, but you fail.

“I don’t know why you have to go.” He sighed, sounded like he was pouting, his head leaning against yours, and you tell him as you zip up your left boot, “Because I have other people to see.”

“See, that is what I mean! I don't know why you have to see anyone else.” 

You shake his arms off of you and stand up, you turn to see him, sheets are pooled around his hips, and he is shirtless looking up at you. It is a sight that is all too welcome, one you seriously wish you didn’t have to leave. Instead of telling him that, you say, “They help pay for my life, this is my job.”

It is true. Stu had become such a regular that in combination with him and your other clients you were able to quit that shitty part-time job, able to do this full-time. The past couple of months with him were great, you felt good about shifting gears to doing this all the time, thankful he was able to help make it happen.

He looks thoughtful, something is weighing on him, it is as if you can see him turning over the thought on his mind and as you are collecting your bag and coat he says, “What if I gave you more money?”

“What?”

You glance at him over your shoulder, and he says with a shrug, effectively repeating himself, “What if I give you more money? Then you wouldn’t have to go, could stay here with me.” 

Your eyebrows raise as you deadpan, “Stu, please. Don’t joke about that.”

“Who says I’m joking? Does it look like I’m joking?” He asked, and you respond, “You are grinning like you do when you are joking.” 

“What can I say? I just look better with a smile on my face.” You had to agree, but you don’t verbalize it. He speaks again before you can, “I mean it, though. What if I give you more, then you can have more time for me.”

Was he for real? “It would take like a lot more.”

“I have a lot more to give.” He challenged. Searching his eyes, you could tell he meant it. You said, “I need time to think on it.”

His reply is immediate. “Why?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, you don’t want to offend but you and he could be open, honest, and you appreciated that about your set-up, so in the interest of continuing it, you told him, “Because like you said this is meant to be a more casual thing right? You are testing me out, I don’t wanna burn bridges with great clients I copped before you came into the picture if you are gonna leave soon. What am I supposed to do if you bail out?”

It’s tense for a moment. You are staring at him, and he is staring back. It was true, what were you meant to do if he leaves? You could seriously struggle until you build up a good clientele base again. 

“You trust me so much.” He teases, the tone is light and affectionate, and you let your shoulders fall back down, happy he didn’t take serious offence to what you said, “Stu, I do, but seriously, this isn’t a choice that can be made quickly, give me some time to really think on it?”  

“No, no, you’re right. You are just being careful, it’s smart, responsible. I respect you for it.” His smile drops, he says it earnestly, and you believe him as he adds, “Think it over.”

You walk to him, bag over your shoulder, coat folded over your arm, your hand comes out and cups the side of his face, you lean down and kiss him. You linger in it, he lets it be what it is, doesn’t take the opportunity to try and entice you back into his bed, even though if he tried hard enough, he probably could. 

Once you pull back, you tell him, “I will.” You leave him slowly, fingers caressing him, your thumb passing over his cheekbone as you go. “See you Stu.” 

You didn’t bring it up the next time you saw him and neither did he, you think he was waiting you out, seeing when you’d say something. You think about it the whole time, but you just aren’t sure if it is right. Things aren’t weird between you both, if anything, it gets even better and so you at last initiate the conversation, or rather, you are going to, but he starts a different one with you first. 

“Are you busy on Sunday morning?” It was Thursday, you were having lunch, you tell him honestly, “As of right now, no. Why?” 

“I was thinking we could go out to brunch. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.” 

He’d introduced you to lots of people, but usually it was when bumping into someone while out and about or at a party or some other thing he dragged you to. You had never been asked to some specific date to meet a particular person. You asked, “Oh, and who’s that?” 

You had heard a lot about Billy Loomis. Stu had told you a ton about him, shared old stories and made frequent mentions of the times they hung out over the past months you’ve been in Mr.Macher’s life, he even showed you some pictures. One evening a month into your arrangement, he showed you a picture from back when they were in high school. You take it from his fingers with a grin as you exclaim, “Oh my God! So you’ve just always been hot, huh?” 

You don’t comment on it at the time, but you thought his lifetime best friend who was sitting next to him on the fountain in the photograph was pretty hot too. When Stu posed the idea of you meeting him? You jumped at the opportunity, a passive thought at the back of your mind wondering if he aged as well as Stu had. 

It is quarter to eleven o’clock when you stride into the place with Stu. You have your hand on his arm, and you are caught up in something he is saying, looking up at him until you see his gaze catch something, original thought and sentence abandoned as his grin widens and calls out, “Hey man!” 

You follow where he is looking and eyes fall on who is unmistakably who you are here to see, yeah he was of course older than he was in the picture that you saw but no doubt it was him. He gets up as you both approach, a polite gesture and one that isn’t necessary, but the fact he did is telling, it resonates. You like that. 

He is also very obviously checking you out, you also like that. 

Seeing how Stu interacted with him first hand is a total treat. The greeting and how they touch shows a friendly familiarity, both leaning into the hug like it was the most natural thing either of them had ever done. You knew they were still in touch and spent time together regularly but witnessing it all in real time is a different story. They get along well, a clear history and investment between them both. He asked you questions and genuinely listened, seemed interested, he also responded to your questions too.

“When did you and Stu meet?” 

“He didn’t tell you?” He asked with a smile, and Stu cuts in, “She never asked!”

“What am I gonna do with you, man?” He sighs the sigh of the world-weary and put upon yet still with a smile on his face he next imparts, “Let me tell you how it happened since he apparently won’t.” 

They’d known each other since they were kids, well before high school, longer than you’d anticipated, lifetime best friends indeed. You thought it was nice, a friends forever kind of deal, the fact they’ve remained close so far into adulthood and still made time for each other was honestly kind of touching. The conversation even went into some stories of their friendship while they were growing up, excited recollections shared over crêpes, eggs benny, coffee and fresh fruit juice.

It was a good time, you were glad you agreed to come, and after you ate but before the check you excused yourself to the bathroom. 

As soon as you were out of earshot, Stu was staring at his friend as he asked, “Soooo?”

Billy looked away from your retreating form, and more in particular your ass, and instead back across the table to Stu, “Soooo what?”

He scoffs with a roll of his eyes, “So, what do you think of her?”

“Oh she’s great. I totally get what you mean when you’ve been talking about her, funny, cute, lively, a real good time.” He admits with a half shrug and Stu sighed, “But?”

It hangs for a moment before the response comes, “But I dunno if she is right for what we want to do.” 

“There it is, I fucking knew it!” A light hit of his hand on the table that made the dirty plates jostle slightly, a quiet rattle before he goes in on Billy. “Why isn’t she good enough?” Stu is leaning forward on his crossed arms as he presses, and Billy says, “It’s a serious thing, man, it isn’t for just anyone.”

“You think I don’t know that? I wouldn’t bring her if I didn’t think she was right. I’ve been seeing her for months and really, Billy, she is something else.” Stu insists, and Billy sighs, “So you keep saying.”

Lowering his voice next, he responds with,“You helped pick her out, remember? You liked her first, and I put in the effort to do this.” 

“Don’t act like it’s a chore, you and I both know you don’t hate the selection process or the ‘trying them out’ either. You’d be seeking out these kinds of arrangements even without my hand in it, this is just a bonus for us both, one that doesn’t need to be rushed into either.” Billy told him and Stu said, “I am not saying that at all, of course I like it dude, and I am not rushing this, I am just saying, what do we have to lose by trying this and by you trusting me?”

The small staring contest across the table lasts less than a tense silence filled minute before Billy speaks, seemingly surprised, “Shit, you really do think she’s right.”

“Duh, that’s what I’ve been saying. Listen to me, I’ve been careful, I’ve played, pushed the boundaries and I think she is the best we could ever hope for so.” The pause isn’t long, but it doesn’t need to be before the real question is posed. “Can I ask?” 

When you came back to the table, the brunch lasted less than twenty more minutes before the bill was paid and you and Stu parted ways from Billy. Warm goodbyes and waves, and promises to do this again sometime soon. 

Naturally, on the way back to his place he is asking what you thought of it all, and you admitted that you thought Billy was cool, enjoyed getting to know him and were looking forward to next time. That real question was asked with you spread out on his couch, him leaning over you, hand between your legs and two fingers curling just right inside you, his mouth lifts off your neck as he asks, “What are your feelings on the topic of threesomes?”

An indulgent smile crosses your face, a deep breath as you ask, “Was this what pushed you to introduce me to him today?”

Another flex of his fingers makes it hard to breathe normally, and he says, “Answer the question.” 

You nod shakily and tell him your stance on threesomes over the wet sound of his fingers working in and out of you, “Pro. Very, very pro.”

That answer was just what he wanted to hear, but it didn’t end there. “You’d be into it then, hm? You wanna fuck my best friend?” 

You were helpless to do anything else but moan your consent as you clenched around his fingers. “Yeah, you want it. Want to get split open from both ends, totally used.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact that you completely agreed with. You did. The more he talked about it, the better it sounded. More words shared, more dirty talk, hopeful ideas posed, and you were clearly eating every last bit of it up. Soon enough your legs were around his hips and he was as deep as could be, hands on your back and asking low in your ear, “We were thinking next weekend, you’d like that?” 

Holy shit, yes you would. 

It wasn’t just a threesome he, or rather, they wanted, it was a little more complex than that. He outlined what he wanted in full, when you weren’t actively fucking, and it was so clear, so precise, it was impressive. Clearly, they both had wanted it for a long while, he seems very excited when telling you about it, and it got you excited, the whole thing sounded so hot, you readily agreed, you trusted him, the plan was made. 

You could hardly contain your excitement for the next week, but soon enough you are in your rented car, driving yourself to where you’d been instructed to for this weekend’s plan. The drive is a good one, relaxing, it’s summer and mid-morning, the radio is playing and you are feeling good.

Upon arrival and getting out, you place your sunglasses on top of your head, staring up at the multi-level beach house you’d be residing in for the next three days, it’s massive for only one person and stunning, well maintained. Bags gotten from the back, you don’t waste time on the driveway and make your way inside. The outside didn’t even do it justice, looks even better inside, big windows, lots of natural light, the living room is comfortable, the kitchen is gorgeous, the back patio looks like the perfect place to have lunch later. 

You scope out the rest of the place, drop your bags in the bedroom upstairs, and you spend the rest of the day however you like. A trip into the nearby town, you get some good food, plan out what you are going to make for dinner, when you are back you have that lunch on the patio and the rest of your afternoon? After you change, you head down to the beach and spend it in the water and on the sand, relaxing with some music and a book. 

It’s hours and hours later. 

Dinner was fantastic, you’d made one of your favourites, indulged in dessert and drew a bath that you soaked in for a long time before finally pulling yourself out of it. Fluffy robe around yourself, you make your way back to the bedroom and take advantage of your very relaxed state at the moment, you hadn’t even bothered to tie the robe up, flopping back onto the bed. The robe was open, mostly just looped around your shoulders at this point, one hand slipping down your body and intent on working up a sweat, adding to the moisture on your already damp skin. 

You put on a very good show. 

They’d let you arrive first, but had been casually watching from afar for a while. They didn’t tell you when they’d arrive, they’d showed up when you had been cleaning up from lunch and then got changed for the beach. The pair had brought their bags in while you were in the water, hid them in the basement before really watching you, too far down the beach for you to recognize them, looking like just two average beach goers. This was fun, the casual stalking, the clear thought and intention, building anticipation for later that night. 

Stu opens the cooler upon his friends’ prompting, passing him the cold can, “How long have we wanted to do this?”

Billy exhaled as he accepted the beer, “Fuck man, years, don’t ask me how many, but years.”

A small beat before Stu asks, “Think it will live up to it?” 

“I’m trying to keep my expectations…” He hums as he cracks open the can, he takes a sip, leaves Stu hanging before finally saying, “-Realistic.”

“Come on, don’t act like you aren’t excited.” Stu nudged him before opening up his own can and Billy shifted in his comfortable beach chair, he was half hard watching you coming back out of the water, totally unaware of them. He was excited, really excited but again, talking about it and experiencing it are different, he isn’t trying to get his hopes up too high. 

“I’m into it, I swear, just again I dunno how it’s all gonna pan out.” 

“Your lack of faith is staggering.” Stu deadpans and Billy proceeds to defend himself, a gesture of his hands trying to communicate his point more strongly, “Listen, I am being open, I’m just not convinced.”

Receiving a harsh look, Stu’s mouth a flat unimpressed line is what makes Billy add on, “Yet.” 

Billy’s smile makes Stu smile too, and he says, “I’ll make you eat those words.” 

A small shake of his head as he brings up his drink for another sip,“I honestly hope you do.” 

The conversation on the beach was hours ago, their own shared meal eaten outside in the dark, hidden, watching you through the window as you sat at the table and indulged in what you made. After that, while you were bathing, they busied themselves with getting geared up in the garage, they’d stowed the outfits there earlier and had let themselves in through the side door. 

The excitement permeates the space between the pair. 

There is no talking at this moment, but both are thinking so loud, it was as if they were having a full-blown conversation, memories of previous times and feelings of exhilaration over what new stories to recall could be made tonight. Boot laces tied tightly, and robes over street clothes, masks on making breathing sound so much deeper and gloves pulled onto hands, over itchy fingers desperate to do all manner of depravity. 

It starts the way they always wanted it to, the only way that it should, with a phone call. 

Your phone on is on the nightstand, and it rings, your head lolls back, a look over, nose scrunching up wondering who is calling at this time. You roll onto your stomach, you scoop up your phone with one hand before rolling back over, you look at the screen, unknown number, but you shrug and answer it anyway, what have you got to lose? You swipe and bring the phone down to your ear and say, “Hello?”

You hear a laugh, small and a tad surprised, before the greeting is returned, “Hello there.” 

Curious, now why would the person on the other end be laughing? It prompts you to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it.” Interesting, you ask, “Sorry, so, uh who is this?”

“Awfully inquisitive, aren’t you?” He asks, and you ask in turn, your hand that wasn't holding the phone is up in front of your face, you are looking at it as you speak, “Am I?”

“All you’ve said so far are questions, from greeting to now, can’t it just be enough that I am a…Curious party.” You spread your fingers, they are still wet from your earlier activities. You are still soaked, aching, throbbing, thighs rub together restlessly as you ask further, “A curious party?”

“Yeah, just someone looking for some good conversation on a lonely Friday night, desperate for someone interesting to talk to, and you seem very, very interesting.” 

You spread your fingers again, watch the creamy strings of arousal break apart from the action, you ask, “Really? I seem that interesting that I am your best option to spend your time with on a Friday evening?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” Whoever he was asked, your hand comes down without thought, you suck the mess from your fingers, the taste is tangy and salty, thoroughly you, delightful. You pull your fingers back out of your mouth as you respond wetly into the phone, “Nothing terminal, it’s just a tad…”

You swallow it down and then finish your thought, “Pathetic.”

The voice sounds almost offended on the other end, shocked as he asks, “Pathetic?”

“Just a little! Like you don’t have a hot date or plans to see a movie, you are just, what? Cold calling strangers in hopes of someone to talk to? Kinda screams pathetic.” You are smiling, damp fingertips linger on your bottom lip and the voice speaks, once again curious as if still in disbelief over your assertion, “I’m pathetic?”

You roll your eyes and say, “Half-pathetic, is that better? C’mon, don’t get hung up on it, we were having fun, weren’t we?”

“Seems you were having more fun before I called.” He bites, and it’s your turn to laugh, “What makes you say that?” 

The question was genuine, how did he have any idea what you were up to before he called?

You got your answer very quickly, “As much as I am enjoying this conversation, I think you were enjoying having those fingers buried in that pretty little cunt a Hell of a lot more than this back and forth we are having at the moment.”

Heart drops, stomach tightens and your thighs still, hand dropping from your mouth, silence overtakes, how the fuck did he know that? 

It’s heavy for a moment until he breaks the quiet, “Oh you got nothing to say to that? Now who’s pathetic?” 

Your mouth opens and closes, tongue runs nervously over your lips as you try to find the words to respond, attempting to conjure up an adequate response but none springs to mind fast enough because he cuts in again, he sounds a mix between dangerously venomous and utterly amused, “You really are struggling! Did your brain leak outta your skull, hmm? No blood flow between the ears, it seems, it’s all pooled between your legs.” 

You sit up, mouth having fully fallen open, the words trying to soak into your grey matter as you bite back, “I have a brain!” 

The response from the receiver is sharper in tone than the edge of a fucking knife. “Act like it.” 

Holy fucking shit. 

You still have not spoken, so he continues to, “Because right now, you just seem totally fucking brain-dead, can’t even string a single sentence together. Is your mind elsewhere? Do you want to keep putting on a show for me instead?-”

He can see you. He has to, how else would he know what you have been up to, he is fucking talking, again,  “-I bet you do. Go on, go ahead, get those fingers back in that tight looking little hole, I’m waiting.”

You were not about to do this, were you? There was no fucking way that you would give in so easily, no you weren’t about to start masturbating for this freak on the phone, you were going to do something far more productive, track the son of a bitch. You are sitting up, looking around, the still wet hand closing your robe over your chest while your other hand held the phone to your ear. 

Get your body covered, get up off the bed, make sure the doors are locked, make it, so this freak can’t get in, go, go, go- his voice cuts through your train of thought once more, “Oh you are so cute! You are not going to find me that easily.” 

He might be right, but that doesn’t mean you were going to give up that easily, you are out of bed, robe is closed, and you are across the room, hand on the door knob, you twist, pull, the door opens, and it is revealed that you are in fact not actually alone in this beach house. 

“Surprise!” 

A tall figure clad in black hooded robes, a bleached bone white mask staring down at you, black eyes and mouth twisted open in a permanent scream, it makes you want to do that yourself. 

Instead, what you do is react quicker than you ever thought you could, you drop the phone, your hand comes up, and you move, slamming the door closed, one hand on the wood and the other still braced on the knob moves, you click the lock closed. Backing up, hands held up, bare foot brushing against the discarded cell abandoned on the floor as if on a cue the phone starting ringing when you made contact with it again, you jumped and vowed not to answer it. The pounding on the door is loud and incessant, he’s strong, he can get in here if he really wants to, and it sounds like he really fucking wants to. You think fast, you look around the room and make a choice that you can’t stay in here, you have a place you can go, but it’s risky, you have to be careful. 

You turn on your heel and move, abandon the door and still ringing phone and as you leave both sounds gets a little quieter, you enter into the ensuite bathroom, you close its door and lock it too before you hurry to the window. Cinching the robe’s belt tighter around your waist, you double knot it, and then you open the window, the breeze rolls in, fresh air on your face feels nice, soothing and calming, a slight balm to your currently frayed nerves and overactive mind, the smell of sea salt is strong. 

Fingers deftly roll your sleeves up, folding them, so they rest around your elbows, and then you set to your plan, you start to climb out the window. This place had a slanted roof, at a small angle, one you’d have to be cautious walking on, but you could walk on it all the same. You were going to hold on for dear life and make your way to the guest bedroom window, creep in quietly and then be able to hopefully get downstairs and out, away from this freak who wants to do God knows what to you. 

Doing this barefoot, is it smart or stupid? You find you can’t decide as you carefully step on the rough tiling, you have one hand on the top of the windowsill, and soon you are out into the open air, you keep one hand up, and slowly you start to move, hand braced on the roof, fingers passing over as you shuffle and move. You feel like a bit of a cliché’ as you keep thinking, “Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down-” 

You manage to make it after about a minute of mindful manoeuvring, your hand grips onto the window’s ledge and your other hand forces the window open, thank the Lord it wasn’t locked. The want to throw yourself inside is immense, but you have to be careful, instead you ease yourself in, ears strain to listen, you don’t hear the pounding, did he give up? You have to check. You creep to the door and peek out down the hallway towards the bedroom you’d been staying in, the door is open, and he is nowhere to be found, shit. 

No point in lingering, you have to make a move, or he will find you, quick and quiet feet carry you through the door and to the top of the stairs, your hand grips the railing, and you are about to start your descent when your periphery catches it, a flash of black fabric. Your heart seizes, and you swallow thickly, stomach dropping you don’t wait to confirm it, sure your mind might be playing tricks on you in your heightened state of terror, but why risk it? 

Down you go. 

You think that outside is best, try to make it down the dark beach under the cover of the night to the next beach house, ask for help, the robe you wore is white and not exactly the best for sneaking around, “Beggars can’t be choosers-” you muse as you pad down the hallway and towards the kitchen. You make your way through and were headed to the doors at the back leading out to the patio, so close, you’d be outside again and could hopefully make your escape. 

You have sincere hope. 

That same hope was short-lived. It died when the door swung open before you could reach it, when that same figure from earlier in that same outfit stepped inside. Tall and imposing, the air carried in from outside smelt like the beach usually does, salt tinges the air, you can hear the faint crash of the waves outside. The fragile and glass like pane of your now clearly false sense of security, that bubble of unearned cocky confidence that you could do this, get out, unscathed? It burst, popped, lays shattered at your feet that were currently trying to go backwards again. You don’t turn, try to back up as the one your eyes are locked on is advancing, the door had been closed, it’s too quiet, black boots on tile as he approaches, and you back up into something solid, firm, warm. Eyes look up, head tips back, a second figure, another mask, ah yes, of course. 

There are two of them, after all. 

No chance to move, hands settle slowly on your shoulders, a squeeze that is firm and felt through the plush material of the robe. The feeling of another hand on you makes your head snap back down, leather clad fingers trace down your chin and neck, “You did better than I thought you would. You mighta got away with it if it was just him, if I wasn’t outside watching, I saw your little stunt on the roof. Impressive honestly, real brave.”

His hand is moving lower, fingers dipping into the split in the front of your robe and something in you snaps, you don’t want to give in or give up yet, so you, once again, move. You pushed, both hands land on his chest, and you shove him backwards, the action is fast, it catches him off guard, perhaps he was a little too confident himself, assuming his accomplice having his hands on you would root you to the spot in fear alone. It is not enough, the other man’s grip was loose and with an elbow thrown back right after, catching him in the stomach you are off the second his hands slip away. 

You go to the left and try to pick up the pace as fast as you possibly can, you can still make it out of this intact, but you didn’t account for a few things. The floors are tile transitioning to hardwood, you are barefoot and sweating from fear and adrenaline, and how far they can reach, the minor moment it takes to recover after partially slipping is more than enough to give them the edge they require. 

You had made it a whole five pathetic steps before the hand is locked firmly onto your arm and yanking you back, hitting into the solid wall of his chest. You feel the touch of cool plastic from the mask he wore on the side of your face as he breathes out, “Aweee, too fucking bad.” 

The grip is unyielding as you are moved against your will, dragged towards the kitchen table, you struggle the whole way even though it is futile, helpless to the point it pulls a laugh out of them. 

“Such a try-hard!” Croons the one hauling you over hardwood, your toes barely skimming the smooth surface as you try to kick and wriggle away, “It’s adorable.” Calls the other, you can hear his smile behind the mask, following behind at a leisurely pace. 

Soon you are right in front of the table, and you are turned, ass pressed against the corner, there are hands-on your wrists, holding your hands behind your back, the grip painfully tight by the figure behind you. Yet you don’t give in, not bothered by the unusual angle of the edge of the table that between you and him. The table is heavy and thick wood, even the smallest part of it combined with his hands make your continued attempt once again laughable, no way you can have enough strength or leverage to budge the piece of furniture. You are still struggling, but the other one steps forward, his hands lock onto your shoulders. “Knock it off.”

Held by them, the multiple points of contact, the support of the table, you are thoroughly fucked. The bright flame of hope of escape inside of you dims, but the part of you that is acutely aware that this is a game, that under these masks are the men you know, one who you trust immensely, Stu, and the other his best friend Billy, and that thought? Instead, makes arousal spark in terrors place. You can truly allow yourself to feel everything, can give yourself over and into the game they set up.

“Seriously, you’ve lost. Accept it honey.” The last word is spoken with a particular spine-chilling bite that allows a tinge of fear to remain, you let it fuel the want further. 

You were just in this position. Your eyes flick over the few feet where you were bracketed by them both, totally boxed in, you had not been able to get away, no match for them. One hand is off your shoulder, the leather clad hand is gripping your face, it makes your eyes snap back to the mask staring you down. “Your eyes should always be on us, understood?”

Which one was this? You thought you’d be able to tell because of all your experience with Stu, but you really cannot nail it down, you are intimately familiar with Stu’s touch and his voice, but they sound different, not at all familiar. Not in a bad way, the voice they’ve adopted somehow is more than working for you, deeper, smooth yet still rough around the edges; the timbre of it resonates deep within, makes you think if pressed to bone it could vibrate you from the inside out, shake what makes you, you from your very body, separate spirit from flesh.

You’d have to ask later how they were doing it. 

Right now, you respond to what he said, a small nod as you confess, “I understand.”

“Good.” He all but purrs as his hand pats your cheek, condescendingly. 

“Ready for us to start having some real fun? Make that lame little conversation we had on the phone seem dull in comparison?” The one behind questioned and the one in front seemed all too enthusiastic. 

“God yes.” Came the response, “Watching her on the beach earlier was a total tease and I could barely get a good look at her in bed, I need to see this body up close.” 

No chance to react to the knowledge they were watching you on the beach, they probably were stalking you all fucking day without you even realizing it. Hands grip and your robe is pulled open and pushed down, your arms are locked to your sides by how the material bunches and sits, your tits fully out and on display. 

“Look at her.” Gloved hands are on you, touching you, palming your chest, groping, thumbs pass over your nipples lightly making you inhale a hair harder. You feel the mask on your bared shoulder, the assailant behind you also taking in the view and the slow, easy touches of leather encased fingers on delicate flesh.

“She’s not made of glass, you won’t break her.” The encouragement makes the treatment get rougher, a pinch of the sensitive peaks makes you tense momentarily from the jolt of pain. 

They take notice. Amusement is back as the one currently rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers says, “Oh, we are gonna be a lot rougher than that, but, don’t worry, you can take it.” 

As if to punctuate what he said and prove he can make good on his promise, one hand abandons toying with you and smacks your breast. The pain is different, sharper, it gets a bigger reaction, you squirm, body bows, and he hits again, another rock of your body, another hit lands. You exhale sharply, and you can feel the energy between the pair, it’s light and giddy. 

“Can’t wait to see all the reactions we can pull outta her. Get her on the table.” 

“In a minute.” Calls the one behind you. He lets go of your wrists, confident you are too distracted to do much of anything in the midst of your tit torture session. He unties the robe’s belt around your waist and pulls it behind, using it to bind your wrists, he twists and twines it, wraps it around, knots it tightly, with the thick material still bunched around your elbows, your arms are effectively useless. 

“There.” The one behind says before he hooks his fingers in the expert knots and pulls hard, your back hits the table, your tied hands rest in the small of your back, your weight on top of them will make them fall asleep you are sure of it as you groan. Between them both, you are adjusted, your head is hanging off the edge of the table, legs half hanging off the other side. You are exposed totally now, the robe is barely on and has fallen to the sides, neck, chest, stomach and lower all bare.

One of the chairs next to your head is pulled out, leg raises, black boot on the seat of the chair in plain view of you, and you watch as the knife on the ankle holster is removed. The knife is large, you’ve seen it before, in a movie once, the name flashes through your mind, bowie sounds correct. 

His boot moves, swings down, connects with the floor again and in a swift movement you feel the edge of cold steel against your throat. Your eyes go wide, a harsh swallow and the knife is held closer, if you attempted this action again you are sure that your skin would break, and you would bleed, a frightfully exciting concept. 

“This here is what we like to call incentive.” He all but purrs and the one at the other end of the table, currently standing between your legs, pipes up, “That’s a big word, you might want to spell it out.” 

A shared laugh, “Good point.” The flat of the blade taps, and he expounds, “This is here to make sure that you do every filthy, fucked up thing that crosses our minds, understood?” 

You had no option but to comply, to play nice and play the part of the good pliant fuck doll. 

The next move couldn’t be clearer to you. Eyes flick up and meet his hidden behind that mask, you tilt your chin up, holding your head with confidence, leaning into the blade, not shying away, not fearful and asked, “What’s first?”

[hannahbarberra162]

Under the Microscope, part 2 (Yandere Sabo x Reader)

18+ MDNI on Ao3

No smut, but some not great behavior from Sabo.

All other chapters

You caught yourself getting excited for your next shift guarding Sabo. It was sad, really, if you thought about it. You’d resorted to being friendly with convicted prisoners to relieve your loneliness. You were no stranger to being on your own, you had been since childhood, but the active hostility from the other Marines on the base had taken its toll on you. Was it so wrong to look forward to someone who was excited to see you? Who shared common interests? You decided to stop beating yourself up and to enjoy Sabo’s company while he was here. Soon he’d be transferred and you’d be all alone once again. 

You didn’t have a shift everyday, today you were just working on your research in your office. It was slow going, you wished you’d been given a research partner. You’d always done better when you had someone you could bounce ideas off of. But the nature of your assignment meant that you had to work alone. The other scientist at the base was a Marine biologist and your work didn’t overlap at all, so you couldn’t even use him as a sounding board. You had a lot to do, so you rolled up your sleeves and magnified until your vision swam. You weren’t any closer to figuring out the genetic sequencing and the meeting with Admiral Sakazuki was getting closer. Not only that, your hands were shaking so badly you couldn’t hold your cup of coffee. You decided to take a break to try to refocus.

Going outside, you realized it was already late at night. You missed lunch and dinner again, working in your office in complete concentration. You weren’t hungry anyway, your stomach twisted in knots. You sighed and looked up at the night sky. You’d always loved the stars and constellations. Your devil fruit had only enhanced your love, allowing you to see deep into the beauty of the cosmos. Your hands were shaking but you tried to magnify some of your favorite constellations. After a few unsuccessful attempts, you were able to see the Andromeda galaxy clearly. It had been your favorite since childhood, allowing you to remember that your problems were so very small and the universe so very large. You’d also loved the story about the princess in chains being rescued from a monster by a brave hero, and their happily ever after. Of course, such things only ever happened in stories, no one was coming to save you from your own life. 

You magnified the galaxy several times, enjoying the swirling stars in motion. The hairs on the back of your neck raised - you had the feeling someone was watching you. Looking around, you couldn’t see anyone in the darkness. But you couldn’t shake the feeling, it was unnerving you. You flicked your hand through the magnification, erasing it. You felt like an animal snared in a trap and you wanted to get away quickly. With a heavy sigh, you went back inside to continue working. You wouldn’t see Sabo for a few days, so you needed to concentrate while you had unbroken blocks of time.

~~~

You had barely been sleeping during the nights, and had early morning guard duty with Sabo a few days later. Well, not with Sabo, guarding Sabo. You had to keep reminding yourself that he was dangerous and violent, not someone to pal around with. You yawned as you entered the room, saluting to your fellow officer as he left quickly. You’d heard the other ensigns talking about how they didn’t like guarding Sabo, that he creeped them out as he silently stared through the bars. That they didn’t get within a meter of the cell for fear he’d hurt them. It was hard to reconcile that image when he spent most of your shift trying to talk to you and had been so relaxed when you’d stupidly gone inside. 

You took a huge gulp of your hot coffee and slumped down on the guard bench, dropping your papers next to you. You leaned your head back against the brick behind you and closed your eyes, taking a moment to settle in for the next few hours. Sabo was already lounging by the front of the cell, ready to engage with you.

“Good morning Sabo,” you stated, not opening your eyes. You could feel his stare already.

“Good morning, Mag. I’m so glad to see you again,” Sabo said exuberant. At least he had a positive attitude. You yawned again, covering your mouth with your arm. “Still tired, hmm?” Sabo queried. You cracked open your eyes. Not this again.

“Like always, I’m fine.” You knew you looked like death, but you didn’t have to admit it.

“Have you made progress in your work?” You stiffened. You still couldn’t talk about your work with Sabo. Besides, it was a sore point and you felt defensive. You hadn’t gotten as much done during your break from guard duty as you’d hoped. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I understand.”

“Your wounds look better,” you said, glancing over his body. You were glad to see he was healing. Sabo hummed, uninterested in that line of conversation. His eyes flicked over you for a moment.

“Are you aware you’re losing weight?” You frowned and looked down at your uniform. You hadn’t noticed at all, but he was right. Your uniform was baggy and loose, you might have to go ask for the next size down. You often missed meals when you were working, but even when you noticed it was meal time your anxiety decreased your appetite to practically nothing. 

“Oh, um, I guess so.”

“Do they not take care of you? Along with working you half to death?” You bristled at his patronizing words.

“They don’t need to take care of me. I’m a grown adult, I take care of myself.” You said testily, narrowing your eyes. You knew you weren't at your top physical condition, but you didn’t need yet another person to tell you that you were helpless and weak. Especially not someone who was currently in seastone cuffs and behind bars . Your hands started to shake, which didn’t help your point.

“Not very well, it seems. But that doesn’t matter. When we get back to the Revolutionary Army, I’ll take care of you.” You snorted out a laugh. Sabo was just referencing his joke from the other day, he was only kidding. You felt better, he wasn’t criticizing you or your lack of self care. You rolled your eyes and smiled at him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sabo said cryptically. 

“Probably not, but go ahead.” You never knew what Sabo was going to say.

“You think I can’t take care of you, because I look like this,” he said, gesturing to his frame. “Rest assured, when I get back, eat more and resume my training, I’ll be more to your liking.” You thought you were going to pass out from all your blood suddenly rushing to your face. That was nowhere near anything you were thinking about.

“Oh, uh, right. Sure. I mean, I can - uh - ask for you to get supplemental food, uhm, if you want,” you stammered. What on earth were you supposed to say to that? 

“Always so kind, Mag. You’re a diamond in the rough. But there’s no need.” Sabo gave you a soft smile. You supposed there wasn’t, it wouldn’t be approved by the higher ups. You drank your coffee to end this conversation and hopefully never bring it up again.

~~~

An hour later and your eyelids were barely open. The room was warm as always, but because of the early morning chill, it felt wonderful. The room was calm and peaceful, and you were leaning against one of the supports by the bench. You’d decided to give Sabo a long article you wanted to read but hadn’t had the time. It wasn’t specific to your research, so you didn’t see how it could hurt. It was better than him being bored and saying embarrassing things to you. He was reading in silence on his metal bed, and you on your guard bench. The quiet was comfortable, punctuated by the sound of turning pages. You had your book open in front of you and were re-reading the same paragraph for the eighth time. Your eyes kept sliding closed, your head lolling forward. You couldn’t fall asleep - that was the entire point of guard duty. If you were caught, you’d be in huge trouble. So you tried to keep reading, blinking rapidly to maintain your focus.

Sabo POV

Sabo watched you drift off to sleep, happy you were getting some needed rest. It warmed his heart to see that you felt comfortable in his presence, enough to let him watch you while you slept. You had dozed off leaning against the wall, your face now relaxing. You looked younger without anxiety clouding your features. You always insisted you were fine, but it was obvious to him that you were working yourself to the bone. He knew you’d taken offense at what he’d said, but he had meant it. You weren’t taking care of yourself - the weight loss, the sleeplessness, the anxiety, your shaking hands, all of these would take a toll on you the longer it went on. He couldn’t wait until he could leave the jail and take you with him. 

You were such a delightful person, Sabo couldn’t believe you’d become a Marine. In his experience, Marines were weak, idiotic fools who were sacrificing themselves for a government that didn’t care if they lived or died. They didn’t even see the issue in doing so, as long as they got to beat down some poor villagers now and again. But you were different, so very different. You were brilliant, even if no one saw that here but himself. You were kind, having helped him with his shoulder for no reason other than empathy. It had been a foolish choice on your part, Sabo could have easily killed you. But that was something he liked about you - you were completely clueless to the way the real world worked. You were so eager to learn and understand the world but so helpless within it. You’d be alright now, you had Sabo to look after you. You didn’t understand what kinds of people lived in the world and what they would do to such a weak little thing like yourself. Luckily Sabo had found you, and he’d keep you safe. 

Sabo had been to Bayonette on assignment from the Revolutionary Army a few weeks prior to his “capture.” The Army had gotten a tip off from a mole at the base that a gifted scientist had been tasked with isolating the gene associated with the Will of D., the practical application unknown. Sabo was supposed to derail the scientific progress in any way deemed necessary, including assassination of the scientist leading the project. Given the delicate nature of the research, he had assumed the lead scientist would be heavily guarded, with a large support team to help them with their work. Imagine his surprise when he found that the bright researcher was you, working alone, in a regular office. You didn’t have any additional support, guards, or even a lab. He supposed he shouldn’t have been that surprised, the Marines had never been good at resource allocation. Or anything, really.

He’d watched you from afar for about a week, monitoring your every move. He quickly realized the strength of your Devil Fruit, as he watched you poring over DNA for hours. Your fruit, combined with your intelligence, made you an incredible research scientist. He had no doubt that if given enough time, you’d be able to sequence the Will of D., to the detriment of the world. Yes, you needed to be stopped, but you didn’t need to be neutralized. Sabo didn’t think you had malicious intentions, he wasn’t even sure you knew why the Will of D. was important. He could refocus your work to something more beneficial to the RA, he was sure of it. 

You were unintentionally difficult to get access to - you didn’t leave the base or take missions. The only way he was going to see more of you was from inside the base. So Sabo had allowed himself to get “captured” by some weaklings and sent to jail to get closer to you. The more Sabo interacted with you, the more he liked you. You were smart, sweet, well spoken, and alluring. You drove him to distraction and he couldn’t always reign himself in when you were around. He felt like a boy again, always putting his foot in his mouth around a crush. He’d been kicking himself over his “darling” comment, along with a few others. Sabo hadn’t made such a bad slip up since he was a teen. He could tell he had embarrassed you and that you didn’t understand he was trying to flirt. You had just met Sabo, or so you thought, and were still reserved. That was ok, Sabo would have plenty of time to woo you once you were with him.

Sabo quickly realized why you weren’t utilizing your fruit as a spy or for counterintelligence. You were completely oblivious to almost everything. You didn’t notice him spying on you, you didn’t notice the way the other Marines looked at you lustfully, you didn’t notice when it was time to eat, you didn’t notice when others were jealous of you, you didn’t notice when he’d made it into the jail. You didn’t take stock of anything besides your work. You were so unperceptive, it was endearing. Even little rabbits knew when they were being cornered, but not you.

What did surprise him was the absolutely terrible state that the Marines pushed you to. Given your mild and intellectual nature, he thought they would have taken better care of you. Instead, he could feel the anxiety and loneliness radiating off of you. You were losing weight rapidly and looked like you hadn’t slept in months. Your fellow Marines treated you like garbage, speaking down to you and roughing you up. Sabo adjusted his gloves thinking about those who had hurt you physically and emotionally. It was a tell he’d tried to get rid of without much success. Dragon had warned him time and time again that it telegraphed his desire for violence, but when he saw you get checked in the guard room he couldn’t contain himself. He wanted to hurt anyone who made you feel less than - whoever told you that you weren’t beautiful, whoever had made up that gauche nickname, whoever told you that you weren’t useful, whoever was giving you more work than you could handle alone. Sabo had already taken care of Koji, and he was planning on returning to the base for some additional retribution in the future. It had been irritating allowing Koji to strike Sabo but he didn’t want to make it seem like his own attack was unprovoked. After all, he didn’t want to have to break free before his plans came to fruition. 

~~~

Your POV

You awoke with a start, immediately realizing two things. First, you had fallen asleep sitting up during guard duty. You prayed to a higher power (caffeine) that no one had seen you. Second, Sabo was staring at you again from within his cell. 

“Don’t worry, no one came in,” Sabo said calmly, assuaging your fears. 

“Ah, thank you. I… didn’t sleep much last night. I, um, didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You were feeling self conscious at the thought of him watching you sleep.

“I should hope not. What if I had escaped? Or caused some mayhem?” Sabo asked teasingly. The truth was, if either of those happened you wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’d have to call for help. But you felt comfortable joking back since it seemed he might keep your secret.

“Maybe I would stop you by boring you to death talking about my research,” you chuckled.

“Oh, no. That could never happen. I find it all very fascinating. In fact, I wanted to discuss this article with you.”

“You finished it already? It was over 60 pages long.” How long had you been asleep?

“Mm, I couldn’t put it down, it was engrossing.” He talked about the scientific article like it was a novel. The only other person who thought like that was, well, you. You came and sat in front of the bars, close enough where he’d be able to reach you if he wasn’t wearing cuffs. You brought your now half full coffee with you, wanting to finish the cup before you got another.

“I haven’t read it yet, actually. Can you give me the synopsis?” Maybe Sabo could help you just a little bit in getting your work done. He didn’t know the exact implications of the article, and it was publicly available. It would be no different than giving him a random book from the library.

“Sure!” Sabo said, grinning. He spent the next few minutes telling you about theories regarding Next Generation Sequencing, a way to look at many DNA fragments simultaneously. You nodded along and took a few notes. Without the right equipment available, it was unfortunately pointless for you to try. You peppered in a few questions, which Sabo was able to answer easily.

“I think that kind of sequencing could only be done by Dr. Vegapunk,” you mused. “I don’t even have a real microscope here, I do everything by hand, so to speak.” 

“Or, maybe you could try to expand the use of your Devil Fruit,” Sabo suggested. “You know, awaken it.” You frowned. You had heard rumors of what that meant but hadn’t met anyone who’d done it. You’d try to research it in your free time after your assignment. You drank deeply from your cup.

“Well, it’s interesting either way. I hope they use it to help sequence some of these Grand Line viruses, to help cure them.” Sabo laughed bitterly and your face fell.

“You don’t really think that’s what they’ll do, right? It’s always about control and power. It would get used to create biological weapons for warfare, something like that. Destroy some island without having to be there.” You looked away, thinking about Sabo’s words. You knew that your work wasn’t always used to benefit people, but surely some of it was. Or maybe you were just deluding yourself. The voice in the back of your head had often asked what your work was being used for, you just squashed it and took your paychecks. Your hands started to shake in your lap.

“I’m sorry, Mag. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want you to think of yourself -” Sabo started to say softly. 

“It’s fine, I can’t - it’s just a job,” you finished lamely. You looked at your watch, you only had a few more minutes with him anyway. You got up and collected your things quietly, thinking about the implications of your work. You weren’t told exactly what the “D” you were looking for came from or what it was connected to, that was outside the scope of your work. You were just a pawn, doing what you were expected to do. “Thank you for reading the article, I enjoyed discussing it together.” It almost felt like having a lab partner again. You hesitated - you wanted to give Sabo more to read but didn’t want to get in trouble. It had helped you to have a synopsis without having to do the work yourself, maybe it would be good for both of you. He'd have something to do and you could get some use out of his intelligence. 

“Can you - I can give you more to read, if you’d like,” you offered. Sabo nodded his head enthusiastically. You approached his cell, extending a textbook through the bars. He gently took it and smoothly turned it to look at the cover. It was about tryptophan receptors in centromeres, or how to turn key DNA on and off in difficult locations. Yes, it would confirm that you were working on genetic sequencing, but he had already figured that out. “Read as much as you want, we can talk about it my next shift.” With that, you left Sabo’s room. You were out the door for the changing of the guards when the other Marine stopped you before entering the cell room. Officer Shiff was cordial to you, you didn’t mind speaking with him.

“Are you taking the rest of Koji’s shifts?” Shiff asked. 

“For the next week, yeah. He assigned them to me,” you tried to keep the grimace off your face. Shiff looked at you confused.

“Mag, what are you - he was severely beaten, he’s in a medically induced coma right now. Koji attacked the Flame Emperor from within his cell, underestimating his strength. Koji’s not going to be working for months, or maybe ever again. You might have to cover for him until other arrangements are made.” Your eyes opened wide. Sabo had done that? While wearing seastone cuffs? You glanced back at him through the window in the door. He had taken off his tophat and was reading the textbook you’d given him. He looked up at you and grinned. You trembled and your hands shook so hard you dropped your papers. You quickly picked them up and scurried away back to the safety of your office.

~~~

Despite finding out the extent of Sabo’s fighting capabilities, you couldn’t stop yourself from enjoying your shifts with him over the next week. You had been right, Sabo was an excellent lab partner. He quickly understood any material you presented him with and you could discuss deep scientific ideas together. He was funny, polite, charming and so handsome. He hung on your every word - you didn’t think anyone had ever given you so much attention. But it wasn’t like he had a choice, you thought, he was literally your captive audience. Still, he seemed to enjoy your company as much as you did his. Sometimes you played with your Devil Fruit, showing him his own DNA or random cells and molecules. You showed him the cosmos, your favorite pastime, and shared your favorite stars. To do that, you had to get near the bars. You’d been more uneasy since you’d heard what he did to Koji, but you couldn’t resist. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 

One evening shift, you had been magnifying space for Sabo, just for fun. You had brought an extra large coffee, filled to the brim with cream and sugar. The two of you spent hours looking through the cosmos, talking about space and making other small talk. You’d ended up showing him Saturn’s enchanting icy rings, magnifying them until you could see individual chunks of ice and rock. You sipped the last of your coffee and tossed the paper cup into the trash. It had kind of a salty aftertaste. Must have been a bad batch.

“Absolutely stunning, right?” you said, watching the icy rings.

“Mmm. Nothing compares,” he replied. You turned to look at him, and he was watching you. Your face heated. 

“Sabo, don’t.” He hummed and reached for you between the bars. His hand slipped through, uncuffed from the other. You froze. Sabo didn’t seem concerned, just brought his hand back and reapplied the cuff to his wrist. 

“They - they’re broken?” you whispered. You wanted to bolt from the room as fast as you could. You didn’t want to be the next Koji.

“Mm. I broke them before they were put on me. The seastone still works, though, if I keep them on.” Sabo was speaking conversationally, like you were still talking about Saturn’s rings, not about how he was completely free to do whatever he’d like. 

“That’s just to escape, right? You’re not going to hurt us?” you whispered, head down. You were truly scared.  You weren’t sure why he’d waited so long to leave. If he could break the seastone cuffs, he’d easily be able to break through the iron bars of the cell. There was nothing keeping him away from you. You would have maybe a second to react if he decided to do anything. 

“Not you - never you,” Sabo breathed to you. You glanced up at the earnest and dashing man in front of you, looking at you like you were worth something. There were many things you could do, many choices you could make. You should have rang the alarm, had others come in to fight the Flame Emperor. But the truth was, you didn’t want Sabo to have to fight, to be sent to Impel Down. You didn’t want him to be tortured, you didn’t want him to be hurt. Tossing and turning in your bed at night, you had occasionally thought about the possibilities if you had met Sabo in another life. If he wasn't second in command of the Revolutionary Army and you a Marine. If you would have been friends, or colleagues, or even lovers. You made your final foolish choice.

“They’re transferring you soon, you need to leave,” you said quietly. You looked at him imploringly. Sabo took his hand out from the cuff once more and cupped your cheek, to your shock. He smiled kindly at you. Your vision was wavering, maybe you were more tired than you thought.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be gone soon. I was just waiting for an RA ship to be close enough for us to leave easily.” You pulled back with difficulty from his grasp. Maybe he was still joking?

“I’m, um, staying here. I can’t come with you to the Revolutionary Army. I’m a Marine.” You had hoped to speak firmly but both your voice and hands were shaking. Your voice felt foreign to you, like someone else was controlling it. Sabo smiled at you condescendingly, like you were a small child.

“Mag, do you know what the other scientist on the base does?” You weren’t sure where he was going with this. It was becoming difficult to concentrate on his words.

“Mark? H-he’s a marine biologist. He’s working on s-synthesizing some kind of s-secretion from crabsss.” Mark’s research wasn’t classified, but you didn’t know how Sabo knew about him. You also didn’t know why you were slurring like you were drunk.

“That’s correct. Mark specifically works on synthesizing a toxin from Grand Line Blue Crabs that can be used as a benzodiazepine. He’s had a lot of success. He’s created a scent and odor free drug that can be added to liquids. Its use is primarily as a surgical anesthetic, but can also be used to drug unsuspecting victims, causing them to pass out quickly. It is highly effective, even in small doses.” You were glad you were already sitting down, your legs felt numb, like they were detached from your body.

“It has a slight salty taste, but if diluted in say, coffee with cream and sugar, it is rendered nearly tasteless.” You nodded, but which Sabo should you talk to? There were two now. And they both seemed to be leaving the cell.

“Go to sleep. I'll keep you safe.” You nodded again. That sounded like a great plan. You were carefully lifted from the ground and held tightly. “You’ll never have to worry again. I’m going to take care of you from now on.” You fell asleep to the sound of a crackling fire and the sensation of being carried by strong arms. 

[eustasskidagenda]

omg hi hi! i adore your writing so much :3! if its alright with you, could i get headcanons for how crocodile, law, kid, and ace would be with an autistic s/o who loves to infodump, but is nervous to do so. theres always this odd bit of shame that accompanies infodumping for me because i get so excited i cant properly articulate myself *lays down* its just a mess of stimming, stuttering, and laughing at my own jokes. i feel embarrassed after, even if its totally an illogical response. im unsure if you write for autistic y/n so feel free to ignore this if you dont. thank you so much <33

☆Crocodile, Law, Kid & Ace with an autistic s/o who loves to info dump 

Hello, dear anon! I'm not used to write autistic y/n, because I don't know enough about this and I wouldn't like to be harmful. However, the situation you're describing is something close to ADHD, which I know well. So I've made some additional researches to be sure and come up with something, I hope you will like it. Thank you for your request, it was a sweet one ♡

CW : g/n reader, slight curses for Kid, fluff 

WC : Around 1,500 words

Crocodile 

Crocodile doesn't talk much, he's always serious and quiet. It's just that he's often thinking about his business and plans. But he's a good observer and would immediately notice if you want to say something but are too nervous to do it. He knows you perfectly, so he would recognize the way you're fidgeting.

He's a man with good manners, so his first reflex would be to lock the door and make sure no one can enter and destabilize you. When it's done, he will point his chair towards you.

"Sit. I'm listening, y/n." 

Actually, he likes hearing you speak during hours. He knows it's a way to express your love and feelings. He's flattered that you want to share your world with him. Go ahead and speak, he will listen. Even if he's just nodding or commenting short sentences in response, he has a good memory and will remember everything you said to him. 

If you're talking too fast and start to get really flustered, he will let you know that you're speaking too fast, like 'y/n, what did you just say?' 

Your hyper-focus and info-dumping are appreciated by Crocodile because he enjoys learning new things and you're a source of knowledge. Maybe he's impassive and struggles to express his feelings, but sometimes you will hear him talk about what he learned with you, so clearly he listened to every single word. 

"Don't be ashamed, it was interesting. Can we talk more about this specific point?" 

If you say something that he is really curious about, he has no shame asking for more. It's a way for him to express his genuine care for you. For him, it's a way to prove to you that even though he's always quiet, he cares.

Law

Law is similar to Crocodile in his lack of emotional expression and limited speech. He is always busy, struggling with his parasitic thoughts and taking care of his patients. Finding some private time with you is a challenge for him. 

If you run into Law with excitement about your passion or new hyper-focus, he may feel embarrassed because it's not the perfect time for him. Autism is something he knows about, and he is an intelligent and educated man. And, he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable. 

"I'll be yours in a moment, y/n-ya."

He has a complete understanding of you and is an excellent observer. The way you're already blushing, fidgeting, and swallowing nervously. He can even hear your heart racing. So first thing first, he will tell you to take a deep breath. After all, he’s a doctor. 

"What do you wanna talk about?" 

As Crocodile, he's a great listener. When you're full of passion and excitement, he thinks you're cute. He likes the sound of your voice. He loves when you want to find him and talk about your passion, because you're offering him a break from his work. If you weren't there, he would be stuck either in work or in his own head. When he's with you, he can forget about his dream of avenging. You're his safe place, truly. 

He doesn't speak a lot. But he is listening.M and asks questions from time to time.

"Yn-ya, there's been no urge. Take your time." And if you're stuttering a lot, he would just say nothing because it's pointless to make a remark, as long as he can understand what you're saying, he will never say something about your elocution. 

"That's interesting, where did you learn that much?" 

Law is a curious and intelligent man, so he likes to learn more about almost everything. If it can help him with his plans or maybe his patients, it might even be beneficial for him.

During your bedtime together, he would ask you to talk about your passions. The way you talk and laugh is like his own lullaby. When you speak, he can find inner peace because it shuts down all the voices in his head. He might fall asleep sometimes when he feels tired. It's just that you're providing him with some relief. When he wakes up, he would be deeply sorry. "So, yesterday, you stopped at this precise point… what were you trying to say after?"

Kid 

Kid is so goddamn loud. And really passionate. He's focused on his goal of becoming the next PK and has loved mechanics and robotics since childhood. He would be aggressively sweet, like frowning when he notices how stressed and nervous you act towards him. "Hey, Y/N, why are you so fucking nervous? Just speak" 

He thinks you're cute with your cheeks all red. On the flip side, he's a bit confused. Why are you nervous? Is it his fault? He knows he's loud, hard to love and rough, but he cares about people he likes. Have you seen how he acts with Killer and his crew? He loves his people. 

And, as a punk, Kid is marginalized. He knows a lot about being different, and if you feel ashamed about it, he can understand. "Come on y/n, let's find a private place" 

Grab your wrist in an aggressive yet sweet way and lead you to his workshop or bedroom. He sits you on the bed with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. "Now we're alone." 

So, you start talking nervously. It doesn't matter if the topic is interesting to him or not, he will listen. Because as I said, Kid is a passionate. Everything can be made interesting by passionate people. So, yeah, talk about birds, cakes, plushies, or anything stuck in your head. He will like it. And he enjoys the sound of your voice. He’s even flattered to be your special someone, the one you’re looking for when you need to talk. It fuels his ego and pride.

He will deal with your stuttering as he deals with Killer's laugh. He'll shut up and smash all the people making fun of you if there's something you hate about yourself. You're his s/o, no one can laugh at you and continue to live without facing his rage.

"Goddamn, slow down" yes, not the best with kindness, but at least he's paying attention. 

He wouldn't help but think you're really cute, with your eyes shining as you finally manage to relax and express how passionate you are. He understands your excitement because when he talks about robots, music, punk or weapons, he's exactly the same. 

Kid is not the most culturally advanced, it depends on the topic. He enjoys learning new things thanks to you or Killer, it's important for him to be credible, and he hates looking inferior in front of others. 

"See, there was no reason to be that nervous" When you finished speaking.

Just poke your cheek, grin and leave a mark of lipstick on your front-head before returning to his activities and yelling proudly to everyone he knows everything about the subject you just info-dump about.

Ace

The sweetest. Ace's personality is both compassionate and protective. He grew up with Luffy, so passionate and talkative people are something he knows a lot about. As he's proud of his brother, he's proud of you and can listen to everything you say for hours. 

"Y/N, is there something wrong?" 

Yeah, he would immediately notice that you're starting to get nervous. His first reflex is to find a more private place, if that's not already the case. He wants to do everything to make you feel safe and loved. If it's winter or just cold, he would even use his DF to warm the room. As soon as you're all comfortable, he'll run his fingers through your hair. "You know I will always listen." 

Ace doesn't speak a lot about what's on his mind. He's way too stubborn and always struggles with guilt due to the blood running through his veins. So he enjoys having someone like you. Your voice is soothing him, and he loves how passionate and honest you are always. 

For him, it's even amazing and unreal to have someone talk to him. You're treating him like a normal human and not a failure, because he feels like it often: unloved, unwanted and unworthy.

"Sweetie, you don't have to rush, we have the time, I'll always listen" if you start to speak too fast.

Would entwine his fingers with yours when you're stuttering and laugh heartily at your jokes. You remind him of his dear little brother. He feels lucky to have you by his side. 

"I could listen for hours." And he's totally honest.

If someone makes fun of you, he's truly mad. You are as significant to him as his brother or Whitebeard. And if someone makes fun of his loved-one, Ace is merciless and really impulsive.

"Please, say more about this specific point!", "Oh, really, that's so funny?" He wants to make you talk even more. Until you're finally relaxed and able to speak without stuttering, blushing, or anything else. He doesn't mind it, even if it lasts for hours. Once you're done, he has his usual sweet smile on his face. "That was so interesting, why are you so embarrassed?" 

So you explain to him that you feel embarrassed about your info dump because you're afraid to annoy people or talk too fast etc." It's alright, you won't bother me." 

You're his sunshine. He feels loved with you. He feels more than just the son of someone; he's just Ace, and that's the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

Such a sweet boy. ♡

[strangesthirdeye]

Being Sherlock's wife and going through the pregnancy would include:

Warning: It's Sherlock, he's a great man. fluff, aftermath of The Final Problem, sweet, baby, Sherlock is a great husband, pregnancy, Baby William creation.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

• Him, dumbfounded and stunned when you told the news that you are pregnant which causes you to be concerned with the lack of response from him.

"I think you broke him" John.

•But later Sherlock recovers from the state of loading his information by hugging you tightly and repeatedly saying you two have become parents.

• Since you are still in the early stages of pregnancy, Sherlock will monitor your diet and recommend routines that should be followed by pregnant women. That's after he did research for pregnant women on Google.

• Concerned with the safety of you and the baby when you insist on joining him and John to solve cases. Even if you are still early in your pregnancy and capable of doing your work, saying that you don't need to tire yourself, but later let you join him and John.

• Morning sickness? don't worry Sherlock is always alert to your situation so don't be surprised if he suddenly appears behind you just to hold your hair as you vomit all the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

• Headaches? Sherlock can give you paracetamol and massage your head. Body aches? automatically, Sherlock is good at massage

• When it comes to the middle of pregnancy, the majority of pregnant women will have cravings with weird combinations of food. So you are no exception.

• Lemon and Honey? Sherlock can take the pickle and peanut butter? Sherlock doesn't know if the one he married all this time is human or not.

• wake up late at night just to eat something spicy? Sherlock automatically got up and left the flat for the sake's of you.

• you are also no exception to mood swings and your victim is Sherlock. Obviously.

• from sad to angry to happy and Sherlock handles your mood easily because he really expects you to be like that. He will be the place where you release your mood swings as long as you don't kill him.

• John being an expert about pregnancy (Mary preggo tadaa) gave him advice to handle pregnant women.

"and don't stress her out, Sherlock" John obviously.

• And now the awaited time has arrived. As your stomach is getting bigger and rounder, Sherlock can't keep his hands on his side because he always puts his big hands on your stomach just to feel the baby in that stomach.

• he will kneel and talk to the baby in the stomach which becomes a daily routine in these few months. He excitedly talked about his cases. Obviously.

• Him, excited when he gets a response from the baby in the stomach like a baby kicking your stomach because the baby is excited with his father. Often leaving you gasping for breath due to indigestion being kicked by the baby in the stomach.

• rub your belly every night and hug you from the back every time you sleep.

• when it comes to last month of pregnancy, your body aches and back pain are getting worse and Sherlock always helps you.

• he will whisper words of comfort in your ear as he hugs you from behind and strokes your hair to convince you that you are a strong person as you are having a mental breakdown.

• But overall, everything turns out fine and you don't have a mental breakdown anymore. Thanks to your loving husband.

• Excited because there are only a few weeks left before he will meet his baby and always finding some good names for his baby.

• Gender? nahh he doesn't care about that as long as the baby comes out well.

"Tina?" Sherlock.

"sounds like somebody's aunt" You.

•talking with baby has become traditions now. And he cannot wait to hold his baby.

• last week of pregnancy, he already took you to the hospital in case you give birth early. Bags and all facilities such as baby clothes and diapers have been packed by Sherlock. So no need to worry.

• John gave him a word of advice about the newborn. Such as what he should do and what he shouldn't do so that he won't panic.

• Rosie is excited to meet her new friend and always stuck with you while talking to the baby in your belly. She already sees you as a mother figure as hers has passed away. So no wonder she always stuck with you.

• When it's time for you to give birth, Sherlock will be where you endure the pain when you push the baby out of your vagina. He doesn't care if his hand is broken because you grabbed it or you swear at him. He's always there.

• Him, saying that you are strong and encouraging you to push the baby.

• panic when everything was quiet for a moment but sighed in relief when he heard the sound of his baby crying for the first time. He rubbed your head happily.

• Him, support his bundle of joy in both hands and smile genuinely as he found out that he got a boy.

• William Scott Hamish Holmes. That's your baby's name and his.

• Kiss William's forehead tenderly and whisper some words like welcome him to the family of Holmes.

• He is always there when you need him. What a great husband.

[mistydeyes]

hey, can i please request headcanons of 141 boys with reader that is a youtuber?

omg yes ofc! i used to (and still am) a HUGE YOUTUBE WATCHER so this was so fun to do :) thank you again for requesting!

vidcon but the uk version

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summary: You're not any regular civilian, you're a Youtuber ;) In all seriousness, here's some headcanons of how the boys interact with your channel and support you!

pairing: 141 x YouTuber!Reader

warnings: swearing

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price - beauty and skincare

you were already big on YouTube when you met John

he can't go into a Sephora without someone mentioning your latest video or TikTok

someone would assume you were an employee based on how you were able to help the fan pick out the best skincare and makeup

he was shocked at the sheer number of brand deals you participate in

he also is in awe at the corner you had dedicated to your ring light and makeup desk with a nice camera set-up

when you eventually move in together, he's just used to the number of parcels you get daily

he will insist on at least giving you some money when you do a beauty haul (even though you tell him you don't need it)

one time he tried to surprise you by picking out some things that you mentioned

now your most popular video is “trying out makeup that my boyfriend picked out”

his only annoyance is when you accidentally stain one of the face towels

eventually just buys a new set meant specifically for you when you wash off a look

you're planning on having a new video where you do skincare on him and finally get at some of his blackheads

soap - gaming

prior to meeting Johnny, you already had a sizable channel

you primarily did long lets plays and the occasional stream

your setup is absolutely gorgeous -i'm talking led lights, two monitors that have the best processing power, pro gaming chair, and posters

it took awhile to curate but it's your baby and you make sure he knows that

loves watching you game and will occasionally keep you company for those long streams

it reminds him of when his younger siblings would watch him game on their early Playstation and X-Box consoles

your subscribers love when he's there though because he has the best reactions

your most popular video? "my boyfriend plays five nights at freddy's ⚠️headphone warning⚠️"

despite having amazing technical skills on the field, his multitasking sucked and he would always forget to check on foxy or overuse the battery

you had a great time editing the video after and emphasizing the jumpscares

he won't subject you to rewatching your videos with him but he likes watching other channels or collars you've done

"This guy is absolute shite" "I know, that's why I don't play multiplayer with him anymore"

he'll be so excited if you ever get invited to a big event like Pax, E3, or Gamescom

you basically have to keep him on track as he loves stopping in artist's alley and looking at all the trinkets and merch people are selling

make sure to bring a huge suitcase because your game room is getting a few new additions

gaz - internet documentaries

think of Internet Historian or Down the Rabbit Hole vibe

your channel is dedicated to internet phenomena like Florida Man or the movement to Storm Area 51

you'd tell the facts of the trend and then add a few funny commentary pieces

usually your videos are 45 min to an 1 hr long so a lot of work goes into it

it's more of a hobby than anything but Kyle always thinks the amount of research you do for it is insane

"Babe I think you need a new laptop" "Why?" "I always know you're about to make a new docu-series because it sounds like a fucking airplane takin off"

once your laptop doesn't sound like its going to blow up, he'll be sure to keep you company as you write down your script

"Did you know that there was a convention for X or X happened?" is how most of your conversations go

he'll always smile and let you give him a spark notes version of what happened

will be the one telling you too sleep and that you can continue editing tomorrow

loves when companies send you things for ad reads

hoards all of the items from Dollar Shave Club and Raycon (his absolute favorite sponsor of yours)

he'll occasionally watch your videos while he's cooking or at the gym

always loves learning something new even if its about a failed furry convention

"I liked your latest video" is such a huge compliment from him because he knows how much effort you put into it

he'll occasionally feed you ideas that he sees while he's scrolling through social media

"You should do something on Hat Man" "WHO??" "Yk the guy you see when you take too much Benadryl, apparently Soap sees him too"

ghost - asmr

tbh doesn’t think much about your channel

you’ll just occasionally leave the room to record or crack some slime in front of a camera

however when your channel is mentioned in conversation, he considers revisiting

“have you heard about this asmr thing?” Gaz asked the group and Soap immediately interjected

“OH YEAH some of them are amazing to watch alone,” he said with a wink

“Like this account-“ Soap wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Ghost snatched the phone out of his hand

“Sorry just couldn’t see it” he apologized and he tried to suppress his disgust that someone else was listening to you at night like that

after that, he takes another look and watches a few of your more popular videos

ofc its your series roleplaying as a nurse or doctor taking care of someone

as well as one where you act like a sleepy girlfriend waking up next to their significant other

he will never say that he watches your videos but you do notice the uptick in views and likes (it's a cute little secret of his)

one time you attempted to ask all these questions about being in the military to help you write dialogue for your latest combat medic series

"People seriously want stuff like that?" "You'll be surprised, not tell me what you usually have in your pack"

he will cringe when you pull your asmr voice on him and whisper in your ear

"Cut that shit out."

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

You've Got Some Nerve Trying to Buy Me

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Not proofread.

(Spending an entire day with the winning bidder!?)

Merchant 1: "I see, an auction. That's fair."

Merchant 2: "This is getting quite interesting."

The merchants were all in agreement, and I was the only one panicking.

(W-What should I do!?)

Silvio: "But I don't want money. Bring me what I want the most right now."

Silvio: "Whoever can provide that will win the bid."

(This has turned into a big deal.)

About an hour after the party ended, I was sitting on my bed, holding my head.

The traveling merchants were given a place to stay at the villa, and tonight, I'll also be staying in the guest room.

(The auction is tomorrow night.)

(If I can't prepare what Silvio wants by then, I won't be able to spend his birthday with him.)

(But what does he want the most?)

Emma: "........"

(No use, I need to get some fresh air.)

I was about to leave the room but hesitated at the last moment.

(Yeah, I should at least put on my wig.)

I quietly walked down the hallway and heard a familiar jingling sound approaching from ahead.

(Is that...?)

Silvio: "Hm?"

Just as I thought, it was Silvio and Carlo walking down the hallway.

Silvio: "Where do you think you're going?"

Silvio: "You're not going to run away with your tail between your legs, are you?"

Emma: "No, I was just going to get some fresh air."

Silvio: "Is that so?"

Silvio: "Carlo, you go ahead. I have something to discuss with this female merchant."

Carlo: "Great! You're finally willing to have a proper conversation."

Carlo: "Even about the letters—"

Silvio: "You really want your research funding cut, huh?"

Carlo: "Sorry, sorry, never mind! Take your time!"

Carlo bowed repeatedly as he passed by, then hurried away like a rabbit.

(Letters?)

I was curious about what Carlo was about to say, but more than that, I was excited to see him for the first time in five days.

Emma: "I missed you. Are you okay? I heard you were busy."

Silvio: "Ha! You're talking like you're my fiancée. If you're going to make a move, you'll have to do better than that."

Emma: "What?"

Silvio: "What's with that face? You're a merchant, remember?"

(That's right. Right now, I'm not Emma. I'm just a merchant.)

(Emma is forbidden from approaching the villa, so I have to play the part properly.)

(But why is he trying to keep me away so much?)

(Sure, I'd be a distraction to the negotiations, but I feel there's more to it than just that.)

Silvio: "Looks like you still haven't prepared anything."

Silvio: "Talking big and failing to win me would be so damn funny."

Emma: "Don't worry. There's still time until tomorrow night."

Emma: "I’ll get what you want most and win your birthday."

Before I could finish my sentence, I found myself cornered against the wall.

Emma: "P-Prince Silvio?"

Leaning against the wall, Silvio cut off my escape route and slowly brought his face closer.

(H-He's so close!)

Maybe it was the fact that five days had passed since we saw each other, but my heart was pounding like crazy.

Emma: "T-There are important people here, you know? Are you sure this is okay?"

Silvio: "What, didn't you come here to seduce me?"

As if provoking me, his face drew even closer.

(That's how you want to play it, huh?)

Emma: "Take this!"

I hugged him tightly, and his face immediately turned red.

Silvio: "Don't cling to me, idiot! Let go!"

Emma: "Nuh-uh!"

Silvio: "Ha?"

Emma: "Just as you said, I'm seducing you. I won't let go until you tell me what you want."

Silvio: "This is the worst seduction attempt ever."

Emma: "But you're flustered, so it's working."

Though I tried to appear strong, the moment I felt his heartbeat and body heat, the loneliness I had been holding back overflowed like a dam.

(Of course, I want to know what he wants, but more than that, I just can't bear to let go of him after so long.)

(If I could, I'd stay like this with him forever.)

Silvio: "Geez, that's not the face of someone trying to seduce."

He pulled me away sharply and suddenly lifted my chin.

(Ah…)

As our faces drew closer,

Silvio: "........."

He turned away just before our lips could touch.

Silvio: "You'll never be able to get what I want."

Silvio: "The other merchants might have a slight chance, but for you, it's impossible."

Silvio: "At least, not as you are now."

("Not as I am now?")

Silvio: "Well, do your best."

Silvio: "If you can buy my precious time, that is."

He turned on his heel and walked away. For a brief moment, his profile seemed like he was going through something.

(That expression.)

(Could it be that what he wants is...)

The following night—

As Silvio had declared, the auction to win his birthday was underway.

Merchants and nobles from all over had gathered, filling the venue with an intense, almost oppressive heat of competition.

Amidst this, I participated in the auction as a "merchant," just as I had the day before.

With what he wants most in hand.

Silvio: "Alright, let's see what ya all brought."

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Part 3 ╎ Part 4

[hunieday]

Yamato, Sougo, Momo 2024 Shuffle talk RabbiTV Episode 1

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

*Doors opens*

Momo: Good morning~! You two are already here! You’re early~!

Nikaido Yamato: Good morning, Momo-san. We just got here a little bit ago.

Osaka Sougo: Good morning, Momo-san.

Osaka Sougo: It’s an honor for me to be able to join you on this "Monthly World Travel" special series. I know I greeted you at the raffle drawing, but I would like to thank you again!

Momo: No no, I'm the one who’s super happy to travel with you to Australia! I may be a bit clumsy, but I’m looking forward to working with you.

Nikaido Yamato: No no no no. I’m still inexperienced, so I would appreciate your guidance and support, Momo-san...

Momo: Ahaha! Everyone's being so humble!!

Momo: It’s gonna be just the three of us on this trip, so you can be more relaxed!

Osaka Sougo: I’m sorry for being so formal... Even Tamaki-kun tells me I’m too stiff a lot of times.

Momo: Oh, then how about you try talking more like Tamaki? Maybe you’ll sound a bit more casual!

Nikaido Yamato: Sou’s gonna call you “Momorin”?

Momo: Yup! Give it a try!

Osaka Sougo: Mo, mo... Momo... Mo...

Osaka Sougo: I’m sorry! I really still can’t do it after all...

Momo: Ahaha! You’re so cute! Thanks for trying your best to call me by that name!

Momo: Well, looks like this project’s gonna be quite relaxed so let’s take it easy. Yuki said there would be photo shoots and missions, but also plenty of free time!

Osaka Sougo: You’re right. I’ll try to take it more easy!

Nikaido Yamato: Looks like the weather will be nice too, so I’m looking forward to it.

Momo: It’s winter over there, isn’t it? I was considering going to the ocean for a swim but that might be impossible.

Nikaido Yamato: That’s true. It’s warm enough to wear short sleeves during the day though.

Osaka Sougo: Melbourne has many tourist attractions such as the Royal Botanic Gardens and zoos, so there should be plenty more to enjoy aside from the beach.

Momo: Aren’t you two a little too well-informed? Did you already do your research!?

Osaka Sougo: Yes, I was so excited that I ended up researching a lot of things.

Nikaido Yamato: He ordered all sorts of books. From travel magazines to Australian history.

Osaka Sougo: I thought I would appreciate the trip more if I understood its historical background... Yamato-san, you were also studying common English conversation phrases at the dorm so you could use them during the trip, right?

Nikaido Yamato: Just a little bit. I can speak English pretty well, but if you don’t use it you’ll forget it.

Momo: Having two capable little juniors is so reassuring!

Momo: I usually push myself real hard, but Momo-chan can probably just take it easy and enjoy himself this time!?

Nikaido Yamato: Re:vale works a lot overseas, right?... Must be hard to work together with that guy.

Momo: Ahaha! I’m used to it by now!

Momo: I always think about Yuki whenever I’m planning a trip and ask myself if he would enjoy it.

Momo: Thanks to that, I fully prepare everything from in-flight entertainment to what drinks to order at the hotel!

Nikaido Yamato: Oh, sounds good~ I’d like to try some of the local Australian beers.

Osaka Sougo: It seems like they tend to have a lower alcohol content and are easy to drink.

Momo: Sounds good! Let’s clear the missions and enjoy some delicious drinks together as a reward!

Momo: Wow, so this is Brighton Beach! Those colorful warehouses are so cute!

Osaka Sougo: Everyone’s taking pictures here and there.

Nikaido Yamato: Should we take a pic too?

Osaka Sougo & Momo: Yaaay!

*Camera shutter*

Momo: Yup! All of us have nice smiles!

Osaka Sougo: This will be a great memory of our trip!

Nikaido Yamato: How nice would it be if we completed the mission by spending time on the beach.

Momo: Things would be boring if it ends this quickly! Let’s enjoy the mission too~!

Accompanying Staff: Thank you everyone for traveling this far!

Accompanying Staff: Here’s the card with your mission written on it. Please take a look at the hint and the exploration map as well!

Osaka Sougo: Thank you. Um, for starters, the mission is... “Let’s meet a mermaid!”

Nikaido Yamato: And the hint is, “Under the water.”

Momo: A mermaid... under the water... Maybe we can swim to an underwater palace from this beach!?

Nikaido Yamato: That’s more like Urashima Taro than a mermaid, isn’t it? (1)

Momo: Haha! Nice one, Yamato!

Osaka Sougo: Hmm, I can’t make anything out of the hint being under the water.

Osaka Sougo: Shall we start by looking for clues around here?

Momo: Ah! Then it’s time for this!

Momo: Tadah! I brought soap bubbles from Japan!

Osaka Sougo: Momo-san, you went through the trouble of preparing this for us...!

Momo: I thought it would be fun to do this at the beach! Aren’t these containers so colorful and cute?

Momo: I’ve got four colors for each member, ones in Yamato’s and Sougo’s colors, as well as Yuki’s and mine!

Nikaido Yamato: You even brought one in Yuki-san’s color.

Momo: They were sold in packs of two and I felt bad leaving Yuki back home, so I brought his.

Momo: Here, the green one for Yamato and purple for Sougo!

Osaka Sougo: Thank you very much.

Nikaido Yamato: Wow, I remember blowing into the hole at the tip of the stick as a kid, how nostalgic.

Osaka Sougo: It’s been so long since I did something like this. It’s kind of exciting.

Momo: Alright! Let’s make some big soap bubbles!

Osaka Sougo & Nikaido Yamato: Yeah!

End of Episode 1.

Urashima Taro: A fairy-tale of a fisherman who, after visiting the underwater Palace of the Dragon King, returns centuries later​.

[yanderes-galore]

Is a concept for Gabriel Soma with a survivor (Dead by Daylight) possible? Maybe they worked together before the Entity took them -🐈

I can try! Although that heavily implies darling is a clone 🤔

Yandere! Gabriel Soma with Survivor! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Paranoia, Violence, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Blood, Murder, Drugs mentioned, Delusional behavior, Dubious yet implied forced relationship.

You first met Gabriel when you were on Dvarka.

You're part of the human crew there that's meant to help colonize and explore the planet alongside some HUX-A7 units.

Gabriel is your engineer, someone meant to keep the technology together.

Each human in your crew has a specific task.

While the HUX-A7 units primarily did all the work, humans were there to supervise in case anything went wrong.

Naturally this allows you to get to know Gabriel along with the rest of your crew.

Gabriel is a big help, although he appears a bit strange at times.

Many of the crew are usually reprimanding Gabriel for trying to eat things that aren't edible.

He would always ask if you ever wished to eat something other than the edible paste you're all forced to eat.

While that sounds great... it will be years before you can actually grow food on this colony.

Gabriel also seems to have memory issues he tells you about.

He remembers things happening one way... yet when he checks it somewhere else, it's the other way.

Despite such strange occurrences... You try your best to comfort your companion.

Other than some strange occurrences... You enjoy your time with Gabriel as your friend.

You often spend time exploring Dvarka to pass the time.

There isn't much else to do... no games to play and minimal books to read.

Nevertheless, you and Gabriel find entertainment in each other's company.

(It was certainly not expected for clones to find love.)

Gabriel found himself captivated by your presence during your time on Dvarka.

He hasn't felt that way before, not even in his childhood.

It's like when he's beside you... He feels comforted.

Time around you is never boring when you're both observing the foreign wildlife and ruins.

Although, instead of looking for possible edible plant life or studying the strange snails and creatures...

Gabriel found himself studying you more.

It started as an odd little curiosity.

He would quietly watch you as you took wildlife notes.

You looked so cute while focused... all curious and excited....

It made him forget about the strange discrepancies in his head.

All he wanted to look at was you.

You'd sometimes have to remind him to fix something or look at something for you since he'd be too busy watching you.

It's... rather innocent for a little while.

While you conduct research with him on Dvarka, Gabriel secretly conducts his own research.

He notes down your behavior and interests and follows you around...

There's times he'll even sneak into your quarters to snoop around, curious to know all about you.

Since he's the engineer, you don't question it much when he rummages through your PC.

He's just fixing things...

Definitely not searching for info about you.

Love... Love isn't something he's really thought about since Earth when he was young.

But with you, he acts like he craves it.

It's such a simple distraction, really.

It's infinitely better than the drugs Dmitri suggests he takes to ignore his memories.

The drugs don't help him in the slightest, they just make it hard to walk and turn his brain to gel....

With you, however, he feels he can get work done.

You're better than any drug, really.

He even gets cravings....

He always wants to be around you to talk or discuss new notes.

He tries to keep things business related...

But do you ever think of the stuff he does?

Do you ever wonder what it would feel like to hold one another? To kiss?

Do you ever feel on edge around the other crew?

Do you ever wish you could just be alone with one another, just the two of you?

Gabriel's obsession is really tested when the crew starts going missing due to the malfunctioning HUX unit.

You look so scared... it hurts his heart.

Despite the situation, Gabriel keeps you right by his side.

He promises to take care of you... he'll fix things...

You won't get hurt with him around.

Gabriel wouldn't kidnap, where would he even hide you?

While sometimes argumentative with the crew... he wouldn't kill them.

Although, during the HUX incident with the ruins... He doesn't mind seeing them go either.

Gabriel is fine if the others are gone...

But you're meant to be his.

One could argue maybe his obsession occurs due to him going insane....

After all, he gets forced into a stressful situation before entering the fog.

He witnesses the crew he was alongside for maybe weeks to months die.

There's blood everywhere... cloned flesh soon encompassing a robot he was meant to keep running.

He fears losing the one person he loves...

This makes Gabriel drag you with him to run... The robot chasing its last two victims...

It's then The Fog swallows you all whole.

Gabriel's obsession starts before The Fog... but I can see it increasing once he's in it with you.

He's immediately greeted with people he doesn't know... and monsters beyond his comprehension.

He gets even more worried when you aren't around all the time....

Gabriel wonders if he should've confessed on Dvarka... or if he should even do it now....

He's slowly understanding that he does love you.

He feels out of all the new people in this realm... You deserve to be with him the most.

You two were the closest to each other! (Plus, you're both clones.)

He can't handle the idea of not being yours... of not being by your side.

I imagine his confession occurs when he's teetering on the brink...

The horrors here make it hard to stay calm.

Imagine if your friend, normally so goofy and curious with you, pins you to a tree and confesses his delusions.

He tells you he loves you, how he knows almost everything about you, how he has always wanted to hold you in his arms.

Who knows, maybe he learned you're both clones too, you're ironically the most unique Survivors here!

What's worse is this most likely occurs during a match.

You're so focused on surviving... you panic when Gabriel corners you.

You find his behavior strange, dangerous...

But Gabriel doesn't care.

You can't ignore him or run from him.

When you try, he ends up sabotaging another Survivor, essentially getting them killed by the killer that trial.

He hates the others, they take your attention too often.

He needs to be the one to protect you... needs to be yours...

Such thoughts make you cling to him like you're going to die forever if the killer gets you....

Gabriel, by this point, isn't the man he knew.

You knew he changed by the time he cornered you, covered in blood, a crazed gaze in his eyes as he tells you truths you never wanted to know...

But does it even matter anymore?

You're stuck here, like it or not, maybe you should accept his love to hunt down the comfort you aren't going to find anywhere else in this place....

[bigmusclenm]

Give or Take - Part 1

[Story Collection] | [●] [Part 2]

Bryce stepped out of his apartment building, and his curly brown hair fell across his forehead, partially hiding his olive eyes. He brushed his hair out of the way and adjusted his jacket as he descended the short front stairs. He knew it wasn’t the best time to go out for a walk, but he needed some space to think about his own life. He longed for a peaceful moment alone. He had always hated the phrase ‘existential crisis’, but he was currently struggling with multiple issues, leaving him questioning his current and future life.

At 26 years old, Bryce Harrington was an average young man who worked 8 hours a day as a Data Entry Clerk at a Research and Survey Firm. His job could easily be done by a computer, but he was grateful the firm had hired him to do it. It wasn’t the most exciting job, but he needed the money. His monotonous job played a role in his current existential crisis. However, his recently failed attempt to gain muscle mass was the major problem, resulting in a tense relationship with his roommate.

As Bryce walked down an empty street, completely alone, he thought about the events of the previous year that had led him into his current existential crisis. He had signed up for the local gym to build muscle. He wasn’t a size queen like most guys at the gym, but he wanted to see his body progressively grow. It was more about observing the progress than achieving a final result, but after a year of extreme efforts, his body was still the same.

The hurtful disappointment resulting from his lack of results felt even worse every time Bryce stared at his roommate, Mason, who had joined the gym about two months after Bryce. Starting as a somewhat chubby 6’4” man, Mason began seeing great results within a few weeks. While Bryce struggled to gain at least a pound, Mason transformed into a sexy, muscular man in just a few months. That visible transformation was precisely what Bryce longed for, but Mason got the reward.

Mason wasn’t the biggest or most imposing guy around, but for Bryce, their size difference seemed unfair. Standing at 5’8” and having reached his max at 130 pounds, Bryce had reasons to feel as though Mason had achieved more than he should have. Mason’s size and newfound confidence made him constantly stay shirtless inside their apartment, unaware that it infuriated Bryce. He had only joined the gym because Bryce had invited him, so he thought his roommate would be proud of his gains. Instead, Mason’s growth left Bryce envious and resentful toward Mason. These thoughts made Bryce feel like the worst friend ever.

Lost in his own thoughts, Bryce found himself standing at the entry of a dark alley, and he started pacing in circles. He wanted to be mad at Mason, but deep inside, he knew his roommate hadn’t given him a reason to be. Mason had been incredibly supportive throughout Bryce’s failed attempts to grow, even encouraging him to keep working out despite it being clearly useless. Bryce genuinely appreciated Mason’s kindness, but it didn’t change how he felt about him.

“Damn it! Stupid Mason and his great genetics. And his fucking annoying kindness. Fuck!” Bryce shouted out, kicking a small rock into the dark alley in frustration. “Universe, I just need a sign. Send something or someone, or…” Bryce talked out loud, but his words were interrupted by a booming voice.

“Bryce Aldaris Harrington,” a loud, deep, supernatural male voice echoed through the alley, sending shivers down Bryce’s spine. Nobody knew his strange middle name except his parents, so hearing it in a dark alley was quite scary.

“Who… who said that? How do you know my name?” Bryce said quietly, trying to sound brave but shaking in fear.

Bryce’s heart was beating fast, but he needed to know who knew his name. Despite his fear, he walked into the creepy, dark alley. Thick clouds obscured the moonlight, and he couldn’t see much. The strong smell of dampness made Bryce frown. Only the sounds of his own footsteps resounded through the alley, but suddenly, a thunder-like sound filled the alley. Shivers crawled up his spine, making him freeze in place and not letting him run away in horror.

The alley started getting colder suddenly, and a strange sensation made Bryce regret leaving the apartment. For an instant, he longed to be back with the annoyingly hot, shirtless Mason. As Bryce started panting in fear, he noticed that each breath he exhaled quickly turned into a misty cloud that disappeared after a few seconds. The place was cold, and that wasn’t normal.

When Bryce finally found the courage to turn around and head for the alley’s exit, he couldn’t take a single step because a tall figure emerged from the darkness about 10 feet away in front of him. The silhouette was imposing—much taller than Bryce’s average height—but at least it looked human. The figure was covered by an old, worn cloak that didn’t let Bryce discern any features, but as it got closer, Bryce could make out some details.

“Bryce Aldaris Harrington, I’ve been waiting for you.” The deep male voice echoed through the alley again, but this time Bryce knew it came from the tall figure approaching him.

The closer the mysterious man got, the more Bryce was amazed by his imposing size and how he seemed to loom over his small body. Even though Bryce couldn’t see his face yet because of the hood of his cloak, the darkness only accentuated the bright yellow eyes that gleamed with a supernatural light. As Bryce locked eyes with the huge man, he felt like electricity was going through his entire body, simultaneously making him feel pain and power.

“It’s time for you to discover who you are,” the towering, cloaked man declared, grabbing Bryce’s right hand and intensifying the pain and surge of power going through his body. “Bryce, son of Aldar, the first Great Gifter, you were chosen to carry an ancient power.”

“No! Stop! Stop! Let me go!” Bryce managed to say between deep groans, as his entire body felt like it was on fire.

Bryce could see nothing. While he was in pain, yellow sparks were traveling through his body, making it look like he was being electrocuted. His eyes started gleaming brightly, changing from olive green to yellow. As his eyes illuminated even more, he saw visions of unfamiliar places he could barely recognize. Ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, Babylon, Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, Ancient China, and many others—all the names Bryce had encountered in history class—the vision took him there from the perspective of the mysterious cloaked man.

“You were chosen to bring balance among the men of this generation. You will have the ability to change men’s physical forms at your command. You will have the power to manipulate reality and alter their pasts. You’ll become The Great Gifter to the weak, but you will take away from those who see themselves as strong. However, this power comes at a cost for you. Your actions toward others will affect you. If you give, you’ll receive, but if you take, you’ll lose. Be careful, Bryce, son of Aldar; your daily actions will be listed and accumulated, and they will transform you overnight,” the cloaked man said, and even though Bryce was in immense pain, he somehow registered every word the man had spoken. Bryce understood the essence and implications of this power.

As the cloaked man finally released Bryce’s hand, the young man fell to the ground, surrounded by steam. He still felt hot, but at least the pain had stopped. Bryce was panting heavily, and his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. His limbs were sore, but it wasn’t that bad. Despite how weird his body felt, his mind was overwhelmed by his just-acquired knowledge. He didn’t know how it had happened, but now he knew he could make other men grow or shrink just by thinking about it. However, this had a direct impact on his own body. If he made others grow, his own body would grow, but if he made others shrink, his own body would shrink.

“Man, I need expla…” Bryce said, looking up and realizing he was completely alone. “...nations. What the hell? Hey! ‘Scary Shazam’, where did you go? You can’t leave me just like that. I have questions. Man…?” Bryce insisted, but no one was there to answer.

He instantly got on his feet and started looking around, feeling even more scared now that the man had vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. There was no evidence to prove that it hadn’t been a hallucination. The only indication that the pain and the whole scene had been real was the steam emanating from his heated body. Everything else felt like a weird dream or a brief moment of insanity. Even then, deep inside him, he knew everything about the power the cloaked man had bestowed upon him.

“I’m unsure if I’ve finally lost my mind or if it was all real.” Bryce talked to himself as he quickly walked out of the alley, trying to act cool even though he was still in shock. “I guess the only way to find out is by trying, but who...” Bryce stopped as he thought about Mason. The guy had definitely gained more muscle mass than he deserved, so it would only be fair to take some size from him. “No, no, he’s my friend. I can’t do that to him. Or can I?”

Bryce's heart was split. Part of him knew Mason didn’t deserve to lose the size he had worked so hard for, especially because he wasn’t a bad guy. He knew that the power was meant to punish only those who used their size for bad purposes, which wasn’t Mason’s case. The more Bryce thought about it, the more he opposed the idea of shrinking Mason’s muscles. The only other way to try his newly acquired power was to give Mason some size, which would result in Bryce’s body also growing. That seemed like a better idea.

On his way back to the apartment, Bryce pondered the potential consequences the power could have on his body. He knew that every time he increased a man’s size, his own body would grow by ¼ of that size. Being someone who worked with statistics and numbers every day, he did the math and realized that if he gave Mason 12 pounds of muscle, his own body would only gain 3 pounds. This sounded like a small gain for Bryce, but for Mason, it would be a more significant difference. Bryce groaned in anger as he realized his little experiment would only increase the size difference between them.

For a few seconds, he thought about waiting till the morning to find another guinea pig, but he knew he needed to change someone before bed. He was aware that his power would work overnight. He could spend the entire day thinking about growing men, but the changes would happen overnight. The men would grow while they slept, just like Bryce’s body would do. Additionally, only Bryce and the person directly affected by his power would be aware of the change, meaning that for everybody else, the person who had grown or shrunk had always been that way. The more Bryce thought about it, the more he understood the cloaked man’s words.

By the time he arrived at the apartment, Bryce already had a plan. He had finally decided to use the power to grow Mason and gain some size himself. Even though he hated to think about an even bigger Mason, the fact that his roommate would be aware of the change and very likely scared of it was a fun touch to Bryce’s plan. As Bryce entered the apartment, he couldn’t hide the devilish grin on his face.

"Hey, Bry, I was getting worried. I thought something bad had happened to you,” Mason said, sitting on the couch, shirtless as always. His nicely shaped arms, bulging pecs, and abs were on full display for Bryce to observe.

“Why would something bad happen to me? Is it because I’m short and thin?” Bryce replied angrily as he passed by the couch.

“No, no… I didn’t say that, and I didn’t mean anything like that. I was just worried. You know I care about you… I mean, you’re my friend,” Mason said, standing up from the couch to face Bryce.

As Mason blocked his way, Bryce observed his annoyingly good-looking roommate’s well-defined body. Mason was tall and had naturally broad shoulders that looked even better with his deltoids bulging nicely. His pecs looked full but not huge yet. His abs were perfectly defined, very different from his previously pudgy midsection. His waist was narrow, but his hips were somewhat wide, making him look hot. Then, as Bryce looked up into Mason’s honey-colored eyes, he couldn’t deny that the young man was handsome. His messy, dirty blonde hair was the perfect touch for his pretty and masculine face. 

“Mason, I’m fine. Okay? You don’t have to worry about me. Now, get out of my way and go get a shirt before you catch a cold,” Bryce said as he pushed Mason aside, making the tall man frown.

“I was just worried; is that bad?” Mason said, sounding hurt, which made Bryce stop on his way to his room.

“Dude, I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need a bodyguard, and even if I did, I’d want someone bigger,” Bryce said, turning around to face Mason. The hurt on the tall man’s face was evident. “You know what? Grow 50 pounds of muscles, and then maybe I’ll let you be my bodyguard. Deal?”

As soon as these words came out of Bryce’s mouth, the world stopped for a second, and a supernatural-holographic text box appeared between him and Mason. The box contained Mason’s stats and measurements. Bryce didn’t know about this part, and he was surprised because the power was ancient. He didn’t know this was possible, but he just smiled and read Mason’s information.

“Name: Mason Austin Jameson Age: 25 years, 10 months, and 7 days Height: 6’4” Weight: 190.2 pounds”

There was more detailed information about Mason, but at the moment, the general stats were all Bryce needed to know. As the text box disappeared again, he realized Mason hadn’t noticed anything, and not a second had passed.

“Whatever,” Mason said, sounding angry, as he started walking to his bedroom, looking sad. “If I get 50 pounds heavier, you’ll hate me even more. See you in the morning, buddy. I’m glad you’re fine,” Mason added before walking into his room and slamming the door behind him.

“I’m better than ever before.” Bryce smiled devilishly again and walked into his own room.

As he collapsed on his bed, Bryce realized he had just granted Mason 50 pounds of muscle, which was way more than he had gained over the 10 months he had been working out. It was definitely a big change, but it also meant 12.5 pounds of muscle for Bryce, which was 12.5 more than the pounds he had gained after a year of hard work at the gym. It didn’t sound like much, but it was only to test his power. He needed to know if it actually worked so he could grow many others to see the transformation he had desired so much finally. And about Mason, he could always shrink him later.

Bryce was so excited about growing overnight that he had trouble falling asleep. He felt his heart beating fast with excitement, and his mind couldn’t stop thinking about the endless possibilities. Many ideas came to mind as he realized he could change the dynamics of society. Mason was only the first step in the balance he would bring into the world.

Even at work, there was a man who had been hired just a few months before and, due to his size and good looks, had recently been promoted. This resulted in him bullying some of Bryce's coworkers. He seemed like a perfect candidate for losing some of his size, but Bryce had to consider the consequences because that would mean losing some of his own size too. It was complicated, but he was willing to test The Great Gifter’s powers.

[the-himawari]

A3! Fushimi Omi - Translation [N] MY WORST WEDDING

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

Juza: …

Omi: …Hm? What are you doing there, Juza?

Juza: Omi-san. You’re home. Welcome back.

Omi: Yeah. I’m home.

Juza: I’m… thinkin’ about my date plan right now.

Omi: Right, we’re supposed to come up with a date plan for our role study. It’s great that you’re giving it some serious thought. Have you solidified what you’re going to do?

Juza: Actually… Yuki happened to pass by when I was stuck earlier. He couldn’t leave me be and gave me some advice.

Omi: Oh, I see.

Juza: I think it’d be nice to go on a sweets tour, so I have that written down for now. If it’s a popular shop with a line up, then I’d have to think about what to talk about as we wait. That’s why… Yuki suggested I should go to a store that only those in know, know about.

Omi: Is that right? Yuki’s advice is accurate, as expected.

Juza: Have you already come up with your plan, Omi-san?

Omi: No. I’ve been busy with work, so I was planning on thinking about it now.

Juza: I see. I’m lookin’ forward to hearing about your plan too.

-pause-

Omi: (That’s what I said… but it’s pretty hard to decide when I actually started planning it.) (An amusement park, an aquarium… they’re cliché, but that’s all I’ve got.)

Kazunari: Hm? What’s up, Omimi~?

Citron: Are you troubled over something?

Omi: Oh. Kazunari, Citron, and Tasuku-san.

Tasuku: It looked like you were deep in thought…

Kazunari: We’re here for you if you wanna talk about it!

Citron: We’ll solve it in a flash!

Omi: Haha, thanks. The thing is…

-pause-

Tasuku: A date plan for your role study, huh?

Kazunari: Ooh, so that’s it~?

Citron: In that case, leave it to us! We’ll brainstorm some ideas!

Kazunari: So like, what comes to mind when you hear the word date?

Omi: Let me think. I guess it’d be something like an amusement park or aquarium.

Kazunari: For sure. Those kinds of cliché dates are a classic! But it’s also important to add your own flair to it!

Citron: Yes! A date that screams Omi would be good.

Omi: (They have a point. Juza’s sweets tour sounded a plan that Juza would come up with.)

Kazunari: When you think of Omimi, wouldn’t it be going on a motorcycle ride? I’m sure it’d feel awesome cruising by the oceanside!

Tasuku: Maybe you can make some stops along the way.

Omi: I see… that sounds good. Alright. I’ll try to think in that direction.

Kazunari: And you should research lunch places. We’re always making food tour maps, so we gotta show off our research skills here!

Omi: Haha, that’s true. I think it would be fun to go to a store that we’re interested in together.

Kazunari: Exactly. It’ll be lit!

Citron: A motorcycle ride…

Kazunari: Do you have your own nice idea, Ronron?

Citron: If you’re going on a motorcycle ride, then what about a chicken race on a cliff!?

Tasuku: What?

Omi: Pardon?

Kazunari: Oh my God! That sounds just like a movie! Your heart would be racing for a different reason! But hey! Maybe you can get even closer by feeling that excitement together!?

Citron: That’s right! Your relationship will deepen by overcoming it together!

Omi: Um… that’s a nice idea and all, but I think that might be too thrilling. Let’s come up with something a little more regular.

Citron: Oh, that’s too bad… In that case, let’s test it out next time! I’d like you to bring me along with you!

Omi: Ahaha… I’ll consider it.

Tasuku: …That’s obviously unreasonable, isn’t it?

---

[ozwriterchick]

Who the hell is Daddy???

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes; OFC/Meghan Snow; OFC/Darcy Hunt; Other Avengers mentioned

Content warnings: Angst; Pregnancy

Legend: Italics are OFC Journal entries

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Tuesday, 31 January, 2023

I have a secret.  

Nobody else knows.

I’ve known for a few days and I’m busting to tell someone but I have to tell Bucky first.  The problem is that he’s away on a mission for the next couple of weeks.  So I have to keep this secret until he gets back, because it’s the type of secret that you should tell someone face to face, not on the phone or by text.

I guess given you’re just a journal I can tell you the secret.  I’m pregnant.  Bucky and I haven’t really talked about kids, I mean the subject has come up but we always get interrupted.

I need to figure out a good way to tell him.  Something cute that will make him cry when he realises he’s going to be a Dad.

I’m going to do some google research and see what I can come up with.  It sucks that I can’t tell anyone else, or maybe I can.  Just one person.  Maybe just one?

Thursday 2 February, 2023

I caved.  I couldn’t help myself.  I’m so excited that I had to.  I told my best friend Darcy.  I couldn’t really tell any of the Avengers, I didn’t want any of them to spill the beans before I could.

We worked out I can get a couple of winter soldier onesies, and I’m going to put them and the positive pregnancy test in a box and he can open it.  With a sign inside saying  “You might say you’re dad’s a superhero but mine actually is”

I have just over a week to get the little suit in and make the sign.  Then I just have to work out when to give it to him.  It will depend on what time he gets back from the mission.  If it’s late, I might wait until breakfast the next mornings. 

Right, on to the plan.

Monday 13 February, 2023

The present for Bucky is all set to go.  It looks amazing, Darcy was such a great help to me in putting it all together.

I’m about 7.5 weeks along now and the morning sickness is starting to kick my butt.  I am trying to keep it quiet so nobody in the team who is here suspects anything.  

Yesterday Tony was walking past my suite and heard me throwing up and knocked on the door to make sure I was ok.  I was able to pass it off as just a bit of food poisoning or gastro and thankfully because he hadn’t heard any other vomiting, he bought it.  Of course, he’ll understand once Bucky and I let everyone know about our little bundle that’s on the way.

Monday 13 February, 2023

It’s almost dinner time and I know I’ve already written my journal entry for today but I just heard from Bucky and he should be home tomorrow morning.  Valentine’s Day!  What a great day to tell him about my surprise.

I told him I’d organise something for dinner, he said after this long mission he really just wanted to relax and spend time together so we are going to order a food delivery and just veg on the sofa in front of the tv.

Tuesday, 14 February, 2023

Bucky is home!  He’s currently having a nap, but he said he wants to spend the whole day together.  I can’t wait for tonight, I’m going to give him the box between dinner and the movie.

So excited.

Later that afternoon after Bucky wakes up from his sleep, he and Meghan take a shower together and things get steamy not just from the hot water.

Afterwards they lay in bed together, just snuggling and talking.  Bucky tells her about the mission, the things that went wrong and that they ultimately successfully completed the mission.  He has to do a de-brief but because Sam was injured, they are putting it off until tomorrow.

The box with the “present” in it is sitting underneath the side table next to the sofa.  The buyer sounds and Bucky goes down to get the food.  While he’s gone, Meghan grabs the box and puts it on the coffee table.

Bucky returns with the food and sets the bags on the coffee table.

“Hey sweets, what’s in the box?” He asked.

“Just a little gift I got you”

“Sure, you know you didn’t need to get me anything but I’m super curious as to what’s in it.”

“Well, you can open it after dinner, so eat up.”

They eat dinner and Bucky notices she’s just picking at her food.  “You ok sweets? You’re not eating much?”

“Yeah I’m good, just a bit nervous I guess about whether you’ll like the gift.”

“Aww, Meggy, I’m sure I’ll love it. In fact, I’m done now, let’s clear away the food and then I can open it and put your nerves to rest.”

They cleared away the dishes, put the leftover food in containers in their fridge and went back to sit on the sofa.

Meghan picks up the box and hands it to him.  He unwraps the gift and looks at her as he opens the box.

The first thing he sees is the sign that says “Every superhero needs a side kick”. He looks at her quizzically wondering if she got him a cat like they had talked about.  He digs a bit further and feels some material.  He pulls it out and sees these 2 onesies and his face freezes.  Onesies are usually for babies, not for cats or dogs.

She looks at him hopefully and says “Keep going, there’s one more thing in there”. 

In his mind he’s thinking “I hope it’s a I’m joking it’s just a cat note or something similar.”  He feels the hard plastic and hauls out a stick that says “Pregnant” on it.

He drops everything, stands up and puts his hand over his mouth.  He’s facing away from her because this is the woman he loves and is she telling him she’s pregnant?

“Buck, are you ok? Do you understand the gift?”

“Uhhh yeah, I understand, I think.  Are you.. Are you pregnant?”

“Yes, about 8 weeks, aren’t you excited?”

He looks at her and his heart is breaking.  She can see it on his face and her face falls.  “I know we’ve not really talked about babies but I.. I thought you might be a little excited.”

“How could this make me excited.  I just don’t get why you would tell me this, like this, and expect me to jump for joy.”

“Bucky, I.. I don’t understand. I know it’s a shock, I was shocked too.  But I’m excited about this, even if you apparently aren’t.”

“I need some air” he said, grabbing his jacket he stormed out of the room slamming the door.

Tuesday, 14 February, 2023

I don’t know what went wrong.  Bucky opened his gift and instead of celebrating I’m writing in my journal and I have no idea where he is.

He got really angry and just stormed out.  I know it was a shock and I have had time to get used to the idea but even when I first found out, I never reacted like that.

I hope we can work this out, but I do know, that this baby is loved even if it’s Dad is being a butthole about it.

Taglist: @cjand10 @angstysebfan @psychictazzy76 @lovely-geek @samanthaneedsanap @kentokaze @iheartsebastianstanstuff @yourmumsluke @void-imaginations

If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know

Thanks for reading, let me know you liked it with a like and a comment/reblog.

If you have any suggestions or requests, you can ask here or DM me the idea.

Also, let me know if you want a 2nd part to this?

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

How many heads are in a hat?

Check out my GitHub repo and leave a comment or issue if you see something that needs fixing!

It took me a while to understand the number theorists' notorious little joke. But it seems to me, once you see the trick, that it's a simple, elegant thing.

(There's a story about my great-uncle Simon, who I never met. He died long before I was born, and you'd think that sort of thing doesn't matter much, but I've always known that I would never meet him, which made me think about him. Maybe I'm a better person than I might have been, if I'd grown up with more of my parents' family, but maybe not. That's a story in itself.)

Uncle Simon was a physicist, but unlike almost all the physicists I've known, he spent a lot of time thinking about discrete systems. My dad's always been kind of proud of this, even though he was clearly not impressed when he would ask Simon questions and get only half-formed responses. When I was growing up, my parents would always make it sound like Simon had a sort of saintliness about him, or something: the way he was always quietly working, the way he was always reaching beyond the standard questions, without ever losing sight of the practical in favor of the theoretical, the way he never seemed to need to talk much, but would still always have something to contribute when he was pressed. He lived on a tiny pension from a university he'd worked at 50 years ago, and a pension from the centralized university that replaced it 30 years ago. It was a quiet life.

I never really knew him. At least, I don't think I ever knew him. But I did read his books, and went through his papers, whenever I got the chance. And I liked that he always had interesting things to say about n and n+1. He was clever enough, and patient enough, to find things you and I might never have thought of. Like that thing about the hats.

Simon would always be searching for new problems that could be framed in his way. I've always been impressed by that too. To be honest, I do the same thing: I take a problem I don't really understand, and I try to see if I can change the format of the problem so that I can understand it. Or, if I can't figure out a new format, I try to figure out the best way to summarize the relevant facts, so that I can be sure to carry those with me when I read the next thing. Mostly I work with number theory problems. That's the field I understand best.

A lot of researchers got into this game back when it was common for mathematicians to apply a bunch of different areas to one problem. These days, that's a lot less common. The distinction between fields, and "fields" and "disciplines," is pretty hazy. And, of course, you can get much more work done by focusing on fewer problems. But those of us who've grown up with interdisciplinarity still remember how it felt to be students, doing all kinds of things at once. And we always want to recapture that feeling of multifarious, unbridled possibility.

So anyway. One day a few years ago, I picked up this book of Simon's called Hats, Trees and Others. It's not his most famous book, and I don't know why I picked it up at the time. My memory is fuzzy; it might have been from a list in the back of some other book. The book was good, though. It was basically a masterclass in the art of trying to formalize real-world intuitions. The first chapter went through a bunch of really interesting ways of formalizing things that I would never have thought of.

The first chapter made me pretty excited. I was anxious to read more of this guy's work, and see what he could do. Of course, what he could do was painfully simplistic, once you've read more about the actual issues. But even when I was reading his stuff, I could always see his focus on both the forest and the trees. He always wrote about trees, sure, but he was also willing to see the forest. I'm not really sure what I mean by that: I guess he had a good sense of whether an idea was the sort of thing that would actually help you understand the world, or if it was just a fun toy for toy enthusiasts. And when you read his papers, you get the same sense of playful precision.

I'm not saying he had the right idea, necessarily. But he was willing to see the forest, as well as the trees.

The hardest part of writing is the first page. (What a cliché! Sorry, I'm trying to be pithy.) The reason is that by the time you're on page 100, you've got a good idea of what kind of story you're telling; you've made many decisions about how it will proceed; you have a whole bunch of references to build on. But in the first few pages, you're still thinking, "What's this story about? What question will the reader be most surprised by? What will they most want an answer to?"

There was some time I spent thinking about that question, in my earlier writing. (When you write fiction, it's a lot harder to stay focused on a given story without creating a lot of worlds and a lot of characters in your head. Actually, that's probably why I stopped writing fiction: I could never stop thinking about these creations.) But I always had trouble coming up with a single answer to the question, and usually settled for one that was, well, pithy. (As in my Cat and Kitten stories, which I think are really bad. Finding a "paradigmatic cat story" was easier than finding the right story. Or, as a friend of mine once said, joking around, "you should start a band called Paradigmatic Cat Story, and I will play drums." It was funny at the time. And then I started reading some 350-page online forum argument where every single poster was a decade-long participant, and the main thing they disagreed about was what you could call a paradigmatic cat story. Which was clearly a paradigmatically bad joke, and yet . . . )

Anyway, there is a type of feeling I find hard to describe -- but if I didn't try to describe it, who would? -- that happens when I read a piece of writing that gets it. The feeling is almost about . . . gentleness, I guess? Or maybe restraint? But it's also about the fact that the author understands that they are telling a story, and believes that they have something interesting to say. It's that combination of restraint, impishness, and . . . confidence? -- that makes that feeling so sweet.

The Count of Monte Cristo gets it. Of course The Count of Monte Cristo gets it -- the tones of The Count of Monte Cristo define the tones of that feeling. It's an epic novel. It's on that scale. But it's a story about a man who is written off by everyone, and yet who finds a way to change the world. It's often described as an epic romance, and on some level it is, but it's much more than that. It doesn't just romanticize the world, it's about a person who romanticizes the world himself. He sees what's wrong in the world, and he devises ways to fix it, and then he does so. It is a novel about someone who is kind enough to take responsibility for the world, while no one else will.

For me, when I read that book, for the first time, I felt I was reading an author who got it. I didn't know who he was. I knew the book was old, and I knew it was popular, and that's all. But, like I said, if I didn't try to describe, who would? In the face of that restraint, impishness, and confidence, I find myself believing. I don't always know what to believe, but I find myself believing.

Now, was that what Count of Monte Cristo was trying to do? I don't think so. But, like I said, tones don't have any natural referents in the real world. They only refer to themselves, and our perceptions of ourselves. So it's really hard to tell what a novel is actually about, I think. And who cares anyway? If you're a good storyteller, that's all that matters.

There are two ways I feel a novel is "about" something, and they're opposites. The first is when a story says, "here

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary25

9/29-30/2023

late night, tonight.

i was out super late after this very bad poetry reading here for some of these creative writing majors. i don't have a lot to say about it, it was bad and the writers make some people close to me miserable because they fail at being kind basically. kind in a real way, the kindness that lets you have some give for meanness when you actually articulate/show effort put towards anyone else, people who are utterly shallow, you know. i believe it must be the case that we all know of people like that essentially.

i didn't get to work on music today really, that's kind of good, tomorrow i will try to write some stuff, i did work on music actually i guess, i wrote a riff, and i'll see where that can take me, or less writing the riff, i wrote some chords to mess with. a fun shape that has a good sound, disso and freaky when inverted.

anyways tonight was good, or like, half good. it's given me a lot to think about, with people who do certain things (like 'ethical' nonmonogamy and if that can exist when the presupposition is monogamy in the first place). i met new people who i like, who are really nice and fun to be around, who got drunk and told me dirt about some old people i knew. or really, one person. that doofus from the noise band, actually. i don't mind saying that. i won't discuss the dirt. it just kind of makes me feel something sad, about people like that, and i guess at large people who in some sense resemble the poets, shallow engagement and deeply troubled ideas of what being an artist means leading to difficult lives, miseries that begin loud and only grow quieter, never actually dissipating.

my gf really wanted to take me to this, the reading and the afterparty, she and a friend really wanted to hear my thoughts on these people because supposedly i'm very funny about that kind of thing, she forgot i guess the bore of the poetry, and the fact that as time goes on, the ruin of these lives is exposed more and more, rich (really i don't actually know, it's the impression i get) developing bad habits and using people, and the drama, while never uninteresting to someone like me (maybe it makes me evil to want to hear), is always sad.

sometimes i am like a child and i just wish everyone could be okay and fine, i'd sometimes light myself on fire to make that possible, but someone i used to be obsessed with told me that me wanting to be jesus or buddha (he said both) so bad wouldn't do anything for anyone except feed how badly i like to see myself hurt. he's right. i guess that's what knowing things does too.

maybe my whole life i'm just going to be hurting myself in new ways.

so i made 3 new friends, or 4, let me count, yeah, 4, i think. and i actually saw 2 friends i knew before tonight, and i was with my one girl friend. so 7 people, i'm gonna see some tomorrow at a gay bar to see a drag show, super exciting stuff. hopefully there won't be any pangs of sadness over the fact we are living in hell sort of.

i guess everybody has really unpleasant fascinations sometimes.

one conversation tonight, one of the new friends told me about her research topic, modern apocalyptic media and its convergence with evangelical christianity, just talking about all that stuff and its evolving state, the dwindling numbers of evangelicals and their panic, her past, and stuff. i liked that. i liked all of tonight, even the sadder parts.

i'm listening to the song theory on sex as an art form, by camera obscura, on repeat. a really great track, it's just so perfect, i love the synth-y punky part especially, but i guess it's also perfect next to a perfect melodic release, this movement that recalls something tumbling downhill, or leaves off petals, while the first part is this total mania.

anyways i am exhausted now, and tomorrow is another day of socializing and stuff.

had an awful thought, or not awful, i dunno. someone posted the song absent friend by bark psychosis, a song that takes me to two specific moments in my life. one was when i'd listen to this song, thinking about the man i loved who would disappear without a word because he was awful, and i'd lay in bed without anyone to talk to, and the second place, is years later, when a friend who loved this record to bits, killed himself, and the song was so pointed, it felt like it said something. the night i found out i walked around and listened to this song.

both times, the lyric "that's the biggest joke of all" took on pretty different meanings. right now it means something else i guess.

the awful thought was about my dead friend rather than the friend who is dead to me. my dead friend, the thought was: the most meaningful thing he'd ever do for himself was kill his own self, that's where all the force of his life would end up, and missing him, and not wanting to forget him and wanting other people to know him, all i am left being able to do is revive the corpse he made of himself and tell others, this is what he did, this is his monument and it's an awful one but it is his. i don't know what else to say about it, i'm staving off the wish to tell a stranger in a server about him because they posted this song, all i can say is i guess, beautiful song, one of the best ever, and they won't know how much i mean that. maybe i mean it less because it means such particular things to me, and rather than thinking it's the best song ever, it's just clusters of memory and feeling forever tied to it. whatever, though, that's fine.

anyways, byebye!!!

[eggheadsguidetorunning]

“I know spike,” Twilight said to the dog pawing at her arm from his comfortable spot situated in a nook on her desk.

“Look I’ll go to sleep after I finish the next paragraph of,” a very loud yawn came from Twilight at that time interrupting her promise for about a second. “Awwwwnn, my paper.”

Spike looked at her knowing she said last paragraph about five pages ago. “Hrmph,” Spike snorted.

“I know, I know, but I just can’t sleep the ideas are coming to me now, and the won’t let me sleep!” Twilight said her the bottom eyelid of her left eye betraying the enthusiasm she tried to put behind her words.

Spike rolled his eye and, reluctantly, got up. He was just getting comfy but it was difficult to sleep when his owner was in one of her insomniac manic moods.

Twilight noticed spike leave but promptly forgot about as she wrote down more of her research. “In the case of diffusion it was found that … no spike, no I don’t have too.” Twilight was upset and interrupted from her out loud thinking by Spike coming back with the cordless phone in his mouth.

Spike daintily jumped back to his spot and spat the phone at Twilight. “Ruff,” he said.

“Gross! And no I don’t need to bug them now it is,” Twilight leaned back in her chair to check the clock, “five in the afternoon. Huh, I missed breakfast and lunch.”

“Errwoof.”

“Hey I still fed you this morning.”

Spike just stared at her in response.

“No. I mean they are still probably all busy on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Hrmph”

“Fine, then I’ll call Rarity but I’m sure she is to busy to answer and then I’ll get a snack and back to work.”

Rarity was busy working on her next big project when the phone rang though she answered it all the same.

“Rarity’s dresses and boutiques professionally and lovingly made how can I help you?”

“Hi, Rarity it’s Twilight I was just well just calling to see if you were available, but you sound busy so I’ll just.” She was clearly trying to hide her fatigue and failing.

“Nonsense darling I always have time for one of my friends.” Rarity politely did not acknowledge the exhaustion in Twilight’s voice. “In fact,” Ratity moved her phone to her shoulder as she freed up her hands to work on the dress in front of her “I was just thinking of calling Pinkie and seeing what she is backing today.”

“Oh well in that case I’ll…”

“Oh, you must stay on the line I insist. I know Pinkie would be happy to talk with you I’m sure.”

Pinkies hands were full with a mixing bowl and her spoon when the phone rang.”, so she used her hair to lasso the phone to her.

As she answered freeing a hand to hold the phone “Hawlo, this is Pinkie Pie happy to talk to you Rarity and Twilight.”

“How did you…”

“Darling, it’s so great to see you memorized our numbers’” Rarity said that but she was honestly as shocked as Twilight.

“Nah I just know by the way the phone rings.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Twilight was already starting to forget her paper.

“Anyway I was I going to call Fluttershy unless you have any objections.”

“Well I…”

“Not at all of course you need to get her on the call.”

The phone startled Fluttershy when it rang interrupting her snuggle time with her stuffed animals.

“Um hello,” Fluttershy said softly into the receiver.

“Hi, Fluttershy what are you doing.” Pinkie was a little to loud and excited for everyone on the phone.

“Pinkie, quite down you don’t have to be so loud with Fluttershy!” Despite being he almost matching volume there was very little anger in Twilight’s voice.

“I agree, you can calm down a bit Pinkie.” Ratity had given up on her dress for now and put her mask on and switched her needle and thread with a file instead.

“Sorry Fluttershy.”

Despite the startling nature of Pinkie Fluttershy couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, it’s not a problem, but umm should I add Rainbow Dash to the call?”

“Ooo, ooo, ooo, yeah get Rd! Call RD!”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea darling.” Rarity switched hands to get the other hand, and switch ears.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Oh but I already called… sorry.”

Rainbow had almost beaten her high score when the phone rang.

“Dang it,” she just missed the high score.

“What’s up?” She restarted her game to give it another shot as she answered the phone.

“I mean I could stop the call if you want.”

“No no that is fine it’s just I was worried she might be busy.”

“I’m never to busy for my gal pals.”

“Wah!” Twilight had clearly missed Rainbow’s quick introduction.

“Rainbow!”

“Sup,”

“Hello Rainbow Dash how are you doing this evening? Is five thirty evening?”

“What’s up Ratity.”

“Oh, hey Rainbow Dash…”

“Hey Fluttershy,” Rainbow started get back in the groove of her game as she ate her flip cell to speaker. “Wait there is only one missing then.”

“Pfff, heh haha,” Rainbow Dash laughed as she realized, “AJ is last then! Oh this is great I got to call her.” RD rolled over and dialed the number by memory never taking her eyes off her game.

“Well darling we don’t have too.”

Twilight did not say anything this time she had given up and instead just sighed.

“To late already dialed her.”

Applejack had just been getting ready to take some veggies out of the oven when the phone rang.

“Hello, this Applejack, your callin the Apple residence how may I help you.”

“Hey, guess what AJ. Your last.”

“I’m sorry Applejack.”

“Now what in tarnations are you talking about Rainbow Dash?”

“She means that you are, yaaaann, sorry, the last one added to our call.”

“I mean honestly it is not a competition. Really you two need to be less competitive.”

“… Let me guess then you started this call Twilight?”

“Uh-huh.” Her eyelids were surprisingly heavy, and she had a grin across her face. Twilight knew that the call was one remark from Rainbow before those two started arguing. She might as well add some more to the inevitable chaos.

“So Pinkie what are you baking,” Twilight said.

“Just admitted AJ you lost.”

“HUHUHH! I’m so glad you asked Twilight! IwasworkingonthischoclatecakemixihadjustaddedtheeggsandmilkandwasworkingitwithmyspoonhehworkingitimeanstiringitwhywouldIeversaywirkingitwhatasillywriterwritingallthis…”

“Lost what what in celestia are you going on about RD.”

“I’m sorry Applejack, Pinkie called me she should have called me last.”

“Seriously, you two have to make everything a competition! Your so uncivil.”

“You don’t need to apologize sugarcube.”

“Yeah Fluttershy, no need to apologize we should always add AJ last it matches her actual speed.” Rainbow was having so much fun with this she was not even upset at her needing to reset her game again.

“Now that tears it RD. I have no idea what you are going on about but I know I didn’t lose nothin.” Applejack could never figure how RD could get under her skin so fast. She put on her oven mitts to take out the vegetables, and between Rarities berating, Pinkie going on and on, Fluttershy’s apologizing, and Rainbow’s bragging she could make out the gentle snoring of Twilight. ‘Well at least something good came of this,’ thought AJ before retorting Rarity.

Twilight surrounded by the voices of her friends was able to put her over active mind to rest.

It's a period piece~