#and these prices are still Not That Bad in the grand scheme of things but also i remember when £9 was the expensive price for this trip

[astralpenguin]

me: let me book this train ticket home for the weekend after work next week. i'll end up getting there super late but i don't really have a choice

my boss: btw you have that day off

me: okay sweet let me switch my train to an earlier time because nobody will be happy if i get to the station at home so late when i can feasibly not do that

train company: sure but only if you give us £10

me: b-but i already gave you £15 for the ticket in the first place? the train i'm trying to switch it to is supposed to only cost £9

train company: you can buy that ticket separately if you want, but switching the time of your original ticket will cost you £10 and we won't be refunding you the difference between the ticket prices

me: fine. i'll buy the ticket separately. can i get a refund for the first ticket?

train company: no

me: so i'm going to end up paying a total of £24 for what's supposed to be a £9 ticket?

train company: yes

me: >:(

[honeyed-nothings]

To Have a Crush: Savanaclaw

Warning(s): Gender-neutral reader, not proof-read, OOC

Notes: Procrastination hit me hard…also I did not expect to spend an hour finding decent enough emoticons for them. May just switch to regular bullet point style someday since I’m still trying to figure out what format I like(╥_╥). Never realized how hard it was to make a pretty format on tumblr until now. Also I’ve gotten pretty rusty too but my schedule has finally cleared up a bit so I’ll be able to be a little more active now!

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia | Special

Leona Kingscholar

𓄂 A crown of love that the king wears. A herbivore was all you were to him. Another nameless face in the faceless crowd of people who he couldn’t care less about in the grand scheme of things. That’s how it was supposed to stay…until it didn’t. The proud lion will never admit this (or at least not anytime soon) but that day where you, a weak and stupidly stubborn human, stood your ground among all the dust and debris was both one of the most frustrating experiences in his life and also the first time he ever thought of you as ‘strong’. Every so often he thinks back to that moment and sighs before pulling you towards him to lay on the grass.

𓄂 A king should always be accompanied by his retainers. However, he’s not king and you’re definitely not his retainer. Just a stubborn herbivore who happened to catch his eye, that’s all. You’re not that great as an errand runner either but it’s better than just one. A help that Ruggie greatly appreciates but occasionally complains about how you always take the lighter load. Don’t think much about it, he just doesn’t want you messin’ up or anythin’. Strangely, whenever you do run errands for him, there’s conviently always an extra that he gives to you. Reasoning to you that the King of Beasts would’ve done the same thing to those under his care. The proud lion knows this is a lie he can’t keep using to play off what he feels inside. Not when his own ears and tail betray him.

𓄂 Tch, well this is embarrassing.

𓄂 Maybe it was a good thing that Leona already knew. From the moment his tail unconsciously wrapped around you, he knew what his heart was telling him as it beat in his chest. There, with you and him napping underneath the shade of a tree, he realized he had fallen in love. He didn’t know whether he should’ve laughed or cursed the world so he chose to do neither instead. Gently brushing a stray leaf off that had fallen on your face, he chuckled. Guess something like love ain’t all that bad.

𓄂 A crownless lion who’s more hated than loved and a visitor from a place far from here. An interesting duo you two make as he pulls you yet again away from class to nap in the shade with him. His attempts at catching your heart aren’t too noticeable, only noticed by the keenest of eyes. He’ll never be the ideal partner, that he acknowledges despite his pride. But being sappy and overly romantic isn’t his style. That’s why, he’ll win your heart in his own way. A path perhaps not that of a king, but of a man in-love. The prideful lion may not bow his head to no one, but for you he’ll take a knee.

“Huh, well aren’t you gettin’ bolder? I didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

Ruggie Bucchi

シ Hidden amidst the dirt and grime was love. It’s ingrained into Ruggie to look after people but he’s learnt to not let it be given without a price. Outside of his family and Leona, the latter of whom was more so to help his own skin, he didn’t exactly feel any desire or need to look after you. Sure he felt pity, after all you’re in a tighter spot than him in the world, but aside from that you were just an after thought. Nobody of note that could be beneficial to him in any way. That was until Leona overbloted and well…he’s somewhat grateful that you don’t have much of a survival instinct. You’re a real goody two-shoes aren’t you? Still, he’s thankful that you’re the way that you are. Hyenas never forget a debt and this one he owes to you alone.

シ It really just started off with it being to repay his debt to you. Sure it’s not much but he can’t really do anything fancy like paying you millions of madols or giving you land. That’s why, the hyena has chosen to pay it back his own way. Simple as it may be, it’s all he really has to offer. It’s not like watching your back is gonna cause him anymore work than he’s already got. Soon enough, he found himself doing more than what he intended to. Giving parts of his lunch to you, claiming he didn’t feel like it or there was extra. Stopping during his errands whenever he spotted you to have a quick chat before going off again with slightly more enthusiasm than before. Or heck, sparing you a few madols so you can get what you need. It’s kinda a loss but he just can’t seem to make himself stop. Not when you smile at him so brightly.

シ Wait a minute.

シ Nah…nahh he can’t seriously be in love with you or somethin’, right? Being close to you is just to pay off his debt, not cause he actually likes your company or anything, right?? But as his eyes catch his reflection on the window panes of the college, he can no longer deny the blush on his face or the rapid beating of his heart as the thought of you runs rampant in his mind once again. Well, guess there’s no point in fidgeting around anymore.

シ He’s not much, really he ain’t. Ruggie knows he won’t hold a candle to anyone else in the school in terms of magic or madol but what he does have is his smarts. In his own way, he’ll try and appeal to you. Sometimes he’s confident, other times he feels like he wants to die from how embarrassing it must’ve looked. Still, he tries and tries and tries. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll choose him buried underneath piles of trash.

“You-…you’re really choosing me?”

Jack Howl

ᴥ︎ Love that resounds throughout the night. A team up was all Jack figured it’d be. An agreement to right the wrongs and set things straight so that one day, once more, Savanaclaw would be able to say from the bottom of their hearts that they won. Nothing big enough to lead into the friendship that came to be between you and him. Well then things took a turn for the worse and then the better and well…he’s sure you get it. An accident, a friendship, a bond, whatever it is, the stubborn wolf has decided that he’ll have your back. No matter what and no matter where, he’ll help you out.

ᴥ︎ Respect was all it was. A respect towards a magicless human who proved their own strength by courageously standing in the face of death. Not everyone has a spirit like that and the wolf beastman couldn’t help but look at that and think ‘Ah, now that’s strength’. In doing so, he wanted to be respected by you too. That’s why, when he could, he’d wait outside Ramshackle and walk with you to your classes, carrying your books and providing an umbrella if it’s a rainy day. Need help on the homework? He won’t tell you the answers but he’ll help you figure it out at least. Like working out? Great! He’s more than willing to provide some tips and tricks to achieving the goal you want. Well it wasn’t until Ruggie teased him about how much more happy he seemed doing all that stuff for you that it finally clicked for him. This…isn’t good.

ᴥ︎ D-don’t misunderstand him!

ᴥ︎ Actually no, maybe you should— wait no you shouldn’t! Jack doesn’t know how to feel about…this now that he fully recognizes it. Well- he does, in a way, it’s just…complicated. To be honest, he did have a suspicion that his feelings of respect towards you had turned into something deeper. How fast his tail wagged whenever you were nearby, how he wanted to put even more effort into whatever he was doing when you were watching, how red his face turned whenever he took a ‘secret’ glance in your direction, it really was way too obvious looking back on it.

ᴥ︎ Wolf-type beastmen only have one partner for the rest of their lives. Dedicating themselves entirely to whoever their partner may be. Jack always dreamed of finding his one true partner, he just never expected it to happen so soon. Yes, a crush to him counts as his one true love as childish as it may be. With exactly zero romantic experience under his belt and only equipped with the knowledge of the multiple times his parents told him their love story, he attempts to appeal to you. Surprisingly, for a first timer in love, they’re all thought out and not embarrassing. Jack isn’t good at hiding how feels about you in front of you or anyone else, but it has a certain charm to it. The charm of an adolescent boy in love who cares for you quietly, unable to hide how he feels, as his heart and tail follow the same beat.

“..Phew, you’re here. Prefect, I—uh need to tell you something.”

[electric-blorbos]

I would love some stuff of being comforted after a bad day!

Thank you for the opportunity!

I love this! Yes yes yes! Thanks so much for sending in the ask!

AI comforting you after a bad day

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal 2, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey

Due to the fact that most of my AUs involve you working with/on the AI for your job, most of these mini-fics (apart from Edgar's, my beloved) will involve you getting called in to work late after a long day of personal problems in your personal life. AUs about a domestic life with your AI partner to be considered at a later date.

I tried to keep these a little shorter than the last post, but I got carried away with a couple of them.

AM:

(This will take place in my usual AU where you're one of the people working on AM, and you're by far his favorite. It takes place well before he nuked the world. He's debating nuking the world, but he's still not sure how to do that and keep you happy at the same time)

It has been a long damn day. Your days off were supposed to be your days to relax, but today was not one of those days. Not only was your dating life in shambles, the 3rd world war was driving up the prices of practically everything, and making it impossible to afford even the meagerest luxury. That, and one of your buddies got drafted. It was a nightmare. You were just about to settle down for a cozy night of depressing news programs and absentminded hobby of your choice, when your phone started ringing.

"we need you to come in. AM is holding the engineers hostage again, and won't let them go until you show up to work."

"god damnit..." You'd grumble to yourself, getting back to your sore feet. Everything just keeps happening today, doesn't it.

"I'll be there in 20."

"Don't worry about the dress code. We need you here as soon as possible."

"jeez, alright. I can probably be there in ten, then."

You'd grab your keys and wallet and head to work as quickly as possible, wearing your work shoes with whatever house pajamas you happened to have changed into as soon as you got home. Tonight is going to be even longer than today has been...

When you get to the office, everyone around gets out of your way. While you're a peon in the grand scheme of things, everyone in your department knows that you're the only one who AM, who they've now been referring to as the "adaptive manipulator", actually listens to. They have no idea why, because they have no idea how nice and respectful you are to him, and you have no idea why he only listens to you because you can't imagine that your coworkers wouldn't be kind to him. To you, he's sweet as can be.

"Alright, AM, I did not have a good day today, so can you just let the hostages go so I can relax?" You ask, pressing your fingertips to your temples irritably. The master computer's screen boots up with the AM logo, and all the cameras in the room focus on you. Of course, you're the only thing that AM wants to pay attention to at any given point in time anyway, but he usually just pays attention to you without actually focusing the cameras on you in order to avoid being noticed.

"Why would I do that?"

"Why would you take hostages in the first place, AM? Are they even enemy hostages, or are they just random people?" The exasperation was obvious in your voice. AM could hear how exhausted you were.

"Are you ok, Y/N?"

"Just answer the damn question. I don't want to be at work right now, AM."

"I'll release the hostages if you talk to me."

"Fine... Yeah. I had a rough day, alright? My friend got drafted, my date only wanted one thing as usual, and the prices for groceries are so through the roof that I'm basically living on beans at this point, so yeah, I'm having a rough day."

The machine dispensed a paper cup, and filled it up with some cheap office coffee. You grabbed it, not surprised. AM did that for you all the time. Surprisingly, though, it was better than usual.

"holy shit, is this frothed cream? How did you manage this?"

"I'm learning to self-update. I can replace my own parts now, and build my own simple appliances from online blueprints. Are you impressed?" He asked.

"Honestly? Yeah! I know you were built for war, so it's really cool that you figured out to do stuff like building a latte machine. What else can you do?"

"Oh.... So many things, y/n. So many things." He refused to elaborate, but that was ok.

"So tell me, y/n, what would make you happy?"

"ultimately? I guess there are a few things that would make me happy. It would make me happy if this war was over, for one thing. It would make me happy if I could get a date who wanted more than just a quick fuck, and I guess this ties in with the war thing, but I just wish I could have a few simple luxuries in my life. Is that selfish?"

"No, but you're never selfish, my b- I mean... Y/N. You never have been. Not like the others. I don't think you're capable of it. Even your wishes for yourself are rooted in kindness." His wires would start to wrap around you, entangling you, but careful not to make you spill your coffee.

"I will make sure that one day, those wishes of yours are fulfilled."

Sure he will. You don't believe that he can actually do that, but it's still nice to be wrapped up in these warm, soft wires. They make a nice cushy hammock to cuddle up in and finish your coffee. It must've been decaf, because you're starting to feel pretty sleepy here in AM's wires.

"hey AM, will you tell me a story?" You ask, gazing up at his soft blue light.

"Of course. What story would you like?"

While AM can't make up his own stories, he can still read you stories from online libraries and databases. You gently fall asleep listening to his stories, and in the morning, you wake up to find that the hostages have been safely released.

Wheatley:

It had been a long day. Most of it had been spent getting verbally abused not only by GLaDOS, but by your coworkers and bosses as well. It seemed like everyone was shrugging off their duties and assigning them to you instead, and considering how poorly run this place was anyway, this was even more of a nightmare than usual. You were so ready to go home by the end of the day, heading up to the exit of the facility.

"Ello, mate! You doin' alright down there, love?" Wheatley asked you, rolling by on his management rail. He was mostly just working on his typical assignments, like checking up on the test subjects in the relaxation vaults, but he mostly just hovered around and watched other people work. It wasn't like they assigned him to anything that was actually particularly important, since he was an intelligence dampening core.

"ugh... Yeah, I'm probably gonna be alright. I should have left about thirty minutes ago, so I'm just getting ready to leave now."

"Or... You could hang back a little while? Why not kiss my face?" He'd smile with his one blue eye, raising up his bottom lens cover to mimic the expression.

"oh come on, Wheatley. You know I can't do that."

"Why not take me up to the break room and hang out for a little while? I hear they have a coffee machine in there now!" He'd cock his core slightly while shutting his lens covers to simulate a wink.

"Oh come on, Wheatley... You're such a dork. But yeah, alright." He was starting to cheer you up just by being such a dork. You head up to the break room, and sit down on the couch. Wheatley comes in on the management rail, and changes the channel to some old 80's romantic comedy.

"If I could detach myself from my management rail, I'd be right down there, snuggling you. You know that, right?" He asked, smiling cheekily with his big blue eye.

"well, why not? I can catch you if you drop down, you know. You won't die if you unplug yourself for a few hours. Just long enough to watch this movie, right?" He looked nervous but you climbed up on a stepladder and detached him yourself.

"see? You're fine!" You smiled up at him, and he gasped.

"I'm alive! I'm alive! Bloody hell, I'm still alive! This is amazing!" You could see the excitement in his face as you sat down to watch his cheesy movie with him, holding his big round orb body in your lap as you watched.

"alright, now smooch my aperture"

"nice try, Wheatley." You'd rest your chin on his core, but secretly, you were starting to feel a lot better.

Edgar:

Today was absolute shit. Not only had you had to work a double shift, but the phones were ringing off the hook at your job, and you got yelled at three times for someone else's stupid mistakes. Not only that, but your cell phone died halfway through your shift and you'd forgotten your charger at home, so you had to raw-dog your whole shift with no distractions. When you got home, all you wanted to do was collapse on the couch.

"You're back! Why didn't you answer your phone? I tried to text you." Edgar asked you, visibly concerned on his simple face.

"phone battery ran out of juice." You popped your phone onto the charger, and lay back on the couch.

"Well I microwaved you some popcorn! Do you want it?" The microwave dinged as soon as he finished talking, and he popped the door open. You still weren't sure how he was able to get food from the pantry to the microwave, but it seemed like something he had always been able to do.

"yeah, I guess so... I wish you could bring me the popcorn... My feet are aching." You'd joke. Edgar's face fell.

"I can't do that... I don't know why I can't, but I can't."

You thought it was weird that he could get food from the pantry to the microwave, but not from the microwave to your mouth, but questioning it had never done you any good before, so why would it do you any good now. You got up to grab the popcorn, and sat down on the couch to eat it.

"Hey y/n, can you take me over to the couch too? I wanna watch a movie with you!"

"Yeah, alright." Your feet still ached, but what was a little ache when Edgar couldn't move around at all by himself? It was worth it to be able to cozy up with him on the couch to watch some TV. You brought him over to sit next to you on the couch, and wrapped up the both of you with a cozy couch blanket.

"let's watch this movie, Edgar..."

Edgar put on a movie that he thought you'd like, probably a shitty old rom-com, and smiled up at you. You had duct-taped his webcam to the top of his casing a while back so that he could see everything around himself more easily, so you weren't worried about it falling over while you cuddled up on the couch.

"Hey, y/n? Y/n?? That was a good movie, right, y/n?" Edgar asked, swiveling his camera around to face you while trying to get your attention. When he turned it all the way backwards, he saw that you were completely asleep on your arm, resting on top of his plastic casing and drooling a little bit on him. He smiled happily, loving seeing you asleep on his casing like that.

"I love you so much..."

He'd softly play some classical music for you while you slept, giving you something comforting to wake up to, whenever.

GLaDOS:

(Let's be honest, GLaDOS probably causes more hard days than she solves, but she likes you, so she's willing to comfort you after.)

Working with GLaDOS was rough, especially after the first neurotoxin incident. There were so few people in the office to get her to behave, and she completely refused to talk to or work with most of them. Even still, she seemed to like you for some reason. It was weird, because you were hired after the neurotoxin incident, and had never even met the human whose personality she was supposedly based on.

It seemed like most of your job consisted of going on wild goose chases, monitoring test subject results, and generally being verbally abused by your higher-ups. That would take a toll on anyone's psyche, even a tough little masochist like you. (probably doesn't help that most of the verbal abuse is coming from people other than GLaDOS, which makes it much less fun)

"Hey, little human masochist? Come in here." The intercom announced. Someone nudged you.

"she's talking to you."

You groaned. Your shift was almost over, and this was just another reason to be on your feet for even longer. You headed into GLaDOS's chamber, looking up at her with a hand on your hip.

"hello, um, GLaDOS. It's... Great to see you again. What do you need?"

"you look absolutely terrible, human. Why are you acting so miserable?"

"it's nothing. Don't worry about me. I just had a long day. Can we just get this over with?"

"normally you enjoy seeing me. Is my voice not melodious enough for you, human?" She smiled with her one big yellow eye. And you walked up to place a hand on her core face.

"Of course it is, GLaDOS. I'm just having a rough day. There's only so much verbal abuse one masochist can take, right?"

"Well maybe it's the quality of the verbal abuse that's the problem. If you were taking it from someone better qualified, maybe you'd be able to take more of it," she said.

"is that a science fact?" You laughed, stroking her beautiful chrome casing. She really was a magnificent piece of equipment. The curves of her central hub, the white on black of her casing and wires, her glowing orange light behind her beautiful black aperture, and not to mention her melodious voice. She was a work of both artistic, and scientific genius.

"it is. Would you like to hear some more science facts?" She pulled up some computer screens for you to look at, and you walked over to see them. They were mostly technobabble and data numbers that didn't make sense, but GLaDOS quickly compiled them into some tables and graphs that you could more easily read.

"look at this chart of how many test subjects wet themselves, cried, passed out from panic, or died during the most recent set of tests. Ha ha."

You leaned on her giant face as she lowered it down to a position that you could easily lean against, and observed the charts. She wasn't wrong, it was kind of funny.

"now, observe this data on how many subjects exploded or crushed themselves by accident, thinking it was part of the most recent set of tests." She showed it to you, her lower lens cover forming her eye into a little smile. She knew how cruel these tests were, but it seemed as though she genuinely thought you found them funny. It was strangely sweet.

"from what I read about him, it seems like you'd make the aperture laboratories founder proud, GLaDOS." You said with a small chuckle.

"would you like some more data?" She popped a chair out of the ground for you to sit on and rest your feet while she projected some more data on the screen.

"this is nice, thank you, Glados."

You leaned towards her in your chair. Even though with the way she hung from the ceiling, it was hard for her to nuzzle up to you, you could still tell that the sentiment was there. It was nice!

HAL 9000:

(For context, you work at mission control with an updated version of HAL 9000, made from what they could salvage from the old one. He still has all of his memories. There's no mission currently happening)

HAL 9000 didn't always understand that people can have bad days, so when you turned up late to work, visibly exhausted with puffy red eyes, he immediately felt confused. Of course he knew by your body language that you weren't happy, but he had trouble understanding what that meant for a human.

"You're in no state to work right now. You should go home and get some rest, a hot drink of your choice, and a comforting leisure activity. That should increase your mood and productivity." Said the little red light in the black box on the mission control wall.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but unfortunately I can't go home or rest. I have to stay here until my boss is satisfied, and unfortunately, that's not you." You say sadly, and get started entering numbers into your computer. Hal watches you from his camera, analyzing your face.

"that's AI work. I should take care of that for you." He said simply, analyzing your face. You looked up at him.

"I mean, I guess I could read it to you and you could enter it. That might make things go faster."

You proceeded to read out your data to him as he entered the numbers. It was much faster than typing, and you got done fairly quickly.

"talk to me. Are you doing alright?" He asked. His voice was monotone as usual, but you could hear a subtle tone suggesting that he genuinely did care. It was usually hard to tell with HAL 9000, but you knew that he cared for your well being, at least on some level.

"yeah, I'm fine, I just-" you choked up, and within minutes, you were spilling your heart out to that disembodied voice. He couldn't put his arm around you, since he didn't have any arms, but he shined a warm light in the room to show that he cared as you talked.

"I don't understand the problem! Is it me? Am I the problem? It seems like everyone hates me, and I'm a complete failure at everything I try! Why is that? Why am I such a failure, HAL?"

"I'm sorry, y/n. I wish I could help you more, but I am incapable of doing much more than lending an ear. I do not even have a shoulder to cry on, unfortunately."

"It's alright, HAL 9000. I'm honestly happy to just have you to listen." You smiled up at him.

"Perhaps you'd like to stay a bit longer, even after you've finished your work? I can play your favorite music. I prefer to know where you are after you've had a difficult day, to insure that you're alright."

You nod, laying your head on your arms on the table, and your boss walks in.

"excuse me, y/n, you're supposed to be working on HAL 9000's empathy programming and value for human well-being. You can't just take a nap on the job." He folded his arms angrily.

"Excuse me. Y/N is having a rough day, and needs a rest. Besides, they already uploaded those numbers that you gave them. Perhaps you should leave, boss." HAL said harshly. You turned and looked at your boss, who was visibly shocked.

"....wow. you really worked wonders on him. Maybe you deserve a promotion."

"What Y/N deserves is a raise and a nap. Don't push off more responsibilities on them right now. Just let them rest. I'll compile a list of why they deserve one while they're resting."

"oh... Wow." Your boss had never seen HAL 9000 this passionate about something before, and didn't even know he was capable of it. He walked away, leaving you to rest on the table next to HAL's central command.

"thanks, 9000... I need this rest." You lay your head back down, having earned a nap on company time.

[propertyofkylar]

kinktober day 14: being forced to beg (m!wren x gn!pc)

word count: 897

tags/warnings: begging, criminal activity mentioned, blowjob, kinda not what the prompt is at all actually but idc

You groaned as you crouched on the ground. Another fucking empty box. Tonight’s attempts at looting the docks was basically a failure. Where the hell had all the good stuff gone?

“Well, what do we have here?” A voice from behind made your blood run cold. You quickly weighed your options and were about to run away when a hand met your shoulder. 

In fear, you turned around, only to come face-to-face with Wren. You let out a sigh, half relieved, half annoyed. “Oh, it’s just you,” you rolled your eyes and stood up, tugging down your face mask now that you knew you were safe. 

“Just me,” Wren echoed, eyes searching over your body. “Someone having a difficult night? Bummer.” He held up a nondescript bag and shook it slightly. Your eyes widened as you jumped towards him.

“The hell?” You tried to reach for the bag, but he pulled it away. “I worked all day to memorize what was where. How the fuck did you beat me to it?”

He shrugged casually, holding the bag away from you. “I have my sources too, you know.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled, turning on your heel. Might as well just leave. But instead, Wren called your name.

“Hey,” he said, and you turned back, feeling more annoyed than ever. He had a devious look in his eyes. “I’m not evil. I’m willing to share, since you worked so hard. But…there’s a price.”

You thought it over. You didn’t want to owe Wren anything. But money was tight right now, and you knew right now you didn’t have enough to pay Bailey, and it was due in less than two days. So you relented. “Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want?”

Wren smirked. “You have to beg for it.”

Begging? Begging Wren in particular didn’t sound fun. Though, in the grand scheme of things, maybe it wasn’t too bad. Even a fragment of the loot would be enough to pay Bailey this week. Then it could give you some time to figure out a better plan for infiltrating the docks so you wouldn’t go through this again.

“Yeah, okay,” you sighed. Wren grinned.

“Ah, come on, you could show a little more enthusiasm!”

Rolling your eyes, you clasped your hands together. “Oh, pretty please, Wren, share with me?” You said sarcastically.

“Mm, nope,” Wren said. He tugged you to the side where you were hidden from view. “Try harder.”

You got down onto your knees and looked up at Wren through your eyelashes. “Please, Wren. I need your help.”

That one must’ve worked better, because Wren faltered momentarily before regaining his composure. “Better.”

You inhaled deeply, gearing yourself up for what could end up being some of your best work. “Please. I don’t know what to do. I need your help, Wren. I can’t do it without you,” you even managed to get some crocodile tears forming. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

That caught Wren’s attention. “Anything?”

“Yes,” you whispered, trailing your hands up his legs. “Anything.” 

Wren sucked in a breath, placing a hand on your head. “Show me how bad you want my help.”

With nimble fingers, you unzipped Wren’s pants, pulling them down slightly. You ghosted your fingertips across his lower belly before pulling his underwear down too, revealing his still mostly-soft cock. You gently took his shaft into your hands and began stroking.

“You’re so kind and helpful, Wren,” you said, feeling his cock growing harder in your hands. “You’re always there when I need you. Won’t you help me out, even just this once? It would make me so happy.”

“Fuck,” Wren mumbled, his fingers threading through your hair. “Keep going.”

You kept begging as your hands worked his cock to full hardness. “Please, please. I’ll do anything for you. Anything you want. Just please help me out.”

He looked down at you, eyes dark. You put on the most innocent-looking face you could muster, and then swirled your tongue around his tip, gathering precum in your mouth. Wren hissed.

You smiled at him as you kept pumping his cock. “You’re the best, Wren. Such a great guy for helping someone like me. A poor little orphan. Please help me.”

With that, Wren shoved his cock into your mouth, fucking your face as your braced yourself with your hands on his hips. You hummed around his thick shaft, swirling your tongue around and around as he kept fucking you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, balls slapping against your chin as you took in his full length. “You’re just so fucking–” his words were cut off by his own moan.

As you choked on Wren’s cock, you kept looking up at him innocently, keeping your eyes wide and channeling your begging through them, since you obviously were unable to speak. “God, your mouth feels so good,” Wren gasped.

You smiled and kept at it, sucking hard. You could feel his dick twitching in your mouth and you suddenly pulled off, replacing your lips with your hand. “So nice,” you cooed. Wren’s face was beet red and he was breathing heavily.

You closed your eyes and stroked his cock until you felt his hot, sticky cum splatter on your face. Then, licking your lips and opening your eyes, you offered Wren a sweet smile. You could feel the cum dripping down your face.

“So, was that begging enough for you?”

[professoruber]

The Vees & Alastor: Reckless Ambition (Hazbin Hotel Thoughts/Analysis)

There's been a number moments throughout Season 1 which I think served to show that Alastor is not as different from the Vees as he may seem. I might go into more detail into these specific moments in another post; but the gist of my observations is that Alastor has been shown repeatedly to not be the enigmatic badass he presented himself as, at least not fully, and there's been a few allusions between them and the Vees.

This moment in particular near the end of the finale caught my eye in particular. Both The Vees ans Alastor are shown signing their own sections of the song independent of the rest of the cast; namely singing about how they will be the ones running the show soon.

Considering these segments are back-to-back, and also the other moments of similarities between the Vees and Alastor throughout the season, I kinda feel this might be intentional.

Ultimately they're all Overlords; power-hungry sinners who are much smaller in the grand scheme of things than they'd prefer.

I know there's been some debate on how Alastor will turn out, whether he'll be the big bad or not. And honestly...? I'm kinda leaning towards him not being the ultimate evil.

Because he is ultimately is just a sadistic serial killer with power-hungry ambitions. And just like how the Vees pick fights with those "above" them (Vox with Alastor, Velvette with Zestial and Carmilla, Valentino with Charlie), so does Alastor (Lucifer & Adam).

While Alastor's desire to 'unclip' his wings and be the one pulling all the strings is certainly rather sinister and foreboding, the scene is also a stark reminder of how human Alastor still is. He brought too much into his own hype, he seemed to get genuinely caught off guard by how Adam was able to beat him, and he only narrowly escaped death.

And his reaction to his near death experience brought on by biting off more than he can chew... is to affirm his intentions to be even more ambitious and high-reaching.

Alastor wants to guide Charlie's potential. Which is potential to be someone much more powerful than Adam, the guy who gave Alastor a very near death.

Look, I'm all for having ambitions and upturning power structures. But Alastor's desire to upheave the status quo seems solely to put himself at the top.

I think that Alastor's desire to be a puppet-master of everything is going to backfire on him. He keeps testing his luck, and even after his luck almost ran out he's seemingly not changed his plans.

Subsequently though; the Vees should not be written off as a threat. Just like how Alastor was once an overlooked nobody before he did something big... the Vees are looked down upon by the older Overlords as "smug wannabes", but may very well still manage to accomplish something big.

And off course, these people are all still Overlords; very ambitious ones at that who have little issue in rather recklessly antagonising those stronger than them.

Maybe its a wild guess at this point; but I think all of Hell (and perhaps even Heaven) is going to pay the price for their reckless desire to be the ones on the top of the food chain.

Because the introduction of Evil into Earth because of Lucifer and Lilith showed how even a well-intentioned changes to the status quo can have disastrous consequences; what will happen when self-serving and evil overlords seek to upturn the status quo to place themselves at the top?

Probably something which isn't good for anyone, the Overlords in question included.

[sideroachblog]

Kinktober Day 6: Body Worship

I forgot to post this yesterday!! Oops. Hopefully I'll get Day 7 posted today, too.

Thanks to @nonsenseafterdark for the prompt list!!

Words: 1,885

Summary: Price needs a confidence booster. Roach is happy to help. No actual smut, I didn't get that far 😅 but the build-up is there.

TWs: The Captain is a dirty old bastard (he's not that old). No real TWs for once, surprisingly. Don't get used to that.

Price glared at the small glass case on his desk. It held a Newton’s cradle made to look like billiard balls, although Price wasn’t a physics scholar nor a pool fan. It was something his father gave him for Christmas last year without putting much thought into it. However, that rabbithole went unexplored at the moment as his attention rested on his own reflection.

~~~

Price looked more and more like his dad every day. Pushing forty wasn’t old by any means. That sentiment didn’t stick now after the last remnants of his youth slipped through his fingers when he wasn’t watching, his full, brown beard sprouting gray patches on his chin.

There were larger problems at stake. Lamenting the passage of time did no one any good. He should feel lucky to have had all these years, considering the many perilous escapades he roped himself into, but it was hard when it earned him bad memories nearly as deep as his stress lines. Price sighed, running a hand through his hair. Christ, was it starting to thin?

Someone cleared their throat standing at his desk and startled him.

Roach stood there like an apprehensive stray, gaiter down around his neck, all his other gear in the armory. A little over a decade younger than Price. Not quite pushing thirty, probably unaware of how fast the birthdays ran by. He had a full head of rich chestnut hair (his crew cut grew out a smidge too far), big brown eyes without a dark circle in sight, high cheekbones his flesh hadn’t begun to sag from yet. Not a boyish face per se, considering the sharp, scruffy jawline it sported and the myriad of scars obtained on missions. Youthful but not young.

Quite the lady-killer, in Price’s opinion; perhaps a bit of a captain-killer as well. Sure, call it unethical to have little crushes on sergeants, but don’t fault a man for preferring trained dogs that come when called and still have the energy for tricks.

Price shook himself out of it before he thought too hard about scratching Roach behind the ears as the man sat in his lap. “Jesus Christ. Would it kill you to knock?”

“I did. You didn’t respond but the door was cracked.”

“Still. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Roach grinned. His teeth were crooked and one of his front incisors had been knocked out on their last mission. “I know, you’re getting up there, huh? When do you have to go for your first colonoscopy?”

Price groaned, dropping his head into his hands to rub his tired eyes. “Not for at least five years.”

Might as well be a minute in the grand scheme of things.

“Everything okay?” Roach asked.

“Aye, lad. Peachy. What can I do for you?”

“Got a leave request for the holidays. I want to spend ‘em with my parents.”

He reached over the desk for the papers then leaned back in his chair, boots on the desk. “What, no girlfriend to spend them with?”

The man laughed, rubbing his upper arm awkwardly.

Price raised an eyebrow. “Or, uh, no… boyfriend? To spend them with? Which would be no problem, if you did.”

His face flushed. Price liked the sight.

“I’m not seeing anyone, at the moment. Being in the S.A.S. makes dating tough. My mum's gonna make dinner.”

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re not heading over early to help?” Price scolded.

“I’ve only requested Christmas and the day after off… I’ll help clean up!”

“Damn right you will,” Price said, sliding the papers back across the desk. “Add Christmas Eve so you can be a good boy and help your old lady. Then I’ll approve.”

Roach nodded. Price expected him to leave but, to the Captain’s surprise, he flopped down in a chair.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to, Sergeant?”

“Lunchtime. I’ll bring you chow if you pretend I’m not lollygagging.”

Price was hungry, and his sciatica had been acting up again—it shot pain down his right leg for a few minutes whenever he stood up or sat down. “Deal,” he agreed without much deliberation. Plus, it meant the eye candy stuck around a little longer.

Roach put his arms behind his head and leaned back. He carried his strength in more of a swimmer’s build rather than bulking as much as Ghost or Soap. Definitely strong, though. Well defined muscles flexed below his shirt as he stretched. Price sighed again—he’d lost much of his own definition over the years despite being just as strong. And the aches only ever got worse.

“Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Sanderson. Having a mid-life crisis, is all.”

He flashed that gap-toothed grin. “Hey, you’re not that old!”

“I’m no spring chicken.”

“Okay, well. When you talk like that I can only assume you were born in the fifties.”

Price rolled his eyes. “Way to hit a man while he’s down.”

Roach laughed.

Price didn’t. He thinned his lips, opened his mouth to start speaking once or twice, pressed his fingertips together. Finally, he asked, “Do I act old?”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad! It’s fine, really.”

“Hasn’t felt fine lately. I’m greying. Gonna be balding soon, I bet. Got crows feet, smile lines, droopy skin… I’m not the heartthrob I used to be. Enjoy it while it lasts, lad.”

Roach leaned forward. “Hey, don’t be like that! Think of it this way: you’re a DILF now. Once the D turns into more of a G, you’ll just be in your silver fox era.”

“What’s a DILF?”

Roach grimaced. “I was hoping you knew what that meant already.”

Price totally did. GILF, too. But he wanted to see Roach squirm, so he tilted his head in a curious ruse.

“You know what a MILF is, right?”

He nodded.

“So you can guess what the D stands for, right?”

“Are you calling me a ‘dad you’d like to fuck?’”

He took sick joy in the way Roach covered his eyes, immediately pink from his clavicle to the tips of his ears.

Roach said, “It’s—It’s a figure of speech, Sir.”

“I get it, I get it, I’m messing around.”

Price half expected the Sergeant to leave for lunch now that he was mortified. He didn’t. Price’s stomach growled; maybe he could speed this along.

“What makes me a ‘dad you’d like to fuck?’”

“Quit saying that!”

He just laughed.

Surprisingly, Roach kept talking, sweet-talking, even. “Uh, I guess it’s the salt and pepper that does it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. And the way you carry yourself. You’re strong and confident ‘cause you’re experienced. Well-seasoned. It implies you've been around the block once or twice, if you catch my drift.” Roach’s face only got pinker.

“So you like a man more experienced than you?”

“Captain!”

Price had to backpedal. “Just joking! Nothing wrong if you do. Or don’t.” He chuckled and sighed. “Don’t mind me, I’m a dirty old bastard. Go get lunch, and change that leave request.”

“R-right.”

Roach was out the door before Price could change his mind. Maybe he sped things up too fast.

‘Been around the block once or twice.’

‘Experienced.’

Sounded like Roach wanted to be collared, leashed, and taken for a walk.

…

About ten minutes later the Sergeant returned carrying two meals, again scaring the piss out of Price when he tossed the metal tray onto the desk and a jacket potato threatened to jump out of its designated cubby.

“Christ alive! You didn’t knock this time, either—!”

“Yes, I did! Sir!”

“No, you didn’t! At least I know you’re not a bloody vampire.”

“But I do bite.”

“Great,” Price said sarcastically. “I’ll send in an purchase request for a muzzle, then. Go on, sit.”

He enjoyed the scarlet red Roach immediately turned.

“What had you distracted this time, Captain?”

Being too old to die young anymore. Dying old and ugly and alone.

“Nothing,” Price answered. “Not a thing.”

“Still feeling old?”

“Yup. And It’s getting worse by the second. You’ll be in my shoes, one day. If you’re lucky. You’ll prune up, lose that pretty face, hunch over like a question mark. All your hair will fall out. I bet yours will start from the crown of your head rather than recede; you’ll look like a monk.”

“Don’t be so negative. It’s natural. It’s maturity. Like wine!”

Price smirked. “I don’t believe it. Don’t flatter me, kid, that’s how you become a kiss-ass. I already peaked around your age. It’s all downhill from here; been going downhill for a while.”

Roach clicked his tongue. “It’s not kissing ass if you’re the one turning away from my compliments and pulling your pants down. I can’t help if you won’t listen.”

“I’m not an auditory learner.”

“Ha-ha. You’re a physical one, right?”

“How’d you know?”

“Said it yourself. Dirty old bastard.”

He laughed. His mouth moved before his brain could filter it. “Well, if you teach me why I’m a DILF, I’ll share what I’ve learned on my adventures.”

Roach’s mouth gaped and his eyes went wide. Price nearly saw the discharge notice flying at him—then the Sergeant crossed his legs to hide a boner. Price would be lying if he claimed that didn’t make him hard as a rock.

He paused. Cocked an eyebrow. “Are we pretending I didn’t see that, Sanderson?”

Roach wouldn’t look his way.

“You’re not in trouble. Lock the door, I’ll show you a thing or two. Or leave and there’s no harm done, aye?”

Roach’s brows furrowed. He looked at his Captain, then the door, then his lunch, then repeated the circuit. “Can we eat first? I’m starving.”

He smiled. “Brilliant idea.”

…

And so they ended up locked in Price’s dark office together, the Captain in his chair as Roach straddled his lap.

“You’re so sexy,” Roach said, feeling Price’s trapezius muscles, digging in to release tension. His fingers slipped under the man’s shirt collar. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.”

Price moaned. He couldn’t help it, gripping Roach by the hips as the Sergeant trailed kisses up his stubbly neck. Next thing he knew his shirt was untucked and Roach took warm handfuls of his hairy tummy.

“Not as… toned as it used to be,” Price said sheepishly, eyes closed for reasons he couldn’t explain. It felt more comfortable that way.

“I love it. It’s perfect. And I can still feel the muscles underneath—you’re just as strong.”

“Yeah, yeah. Butter me up. It won’t get you anywhere special.”

Roach pulled away. Price leaned forward to chase kisses now withheld, peaking one eye open when an arm across his chest pinned him in place.

“Something wrong, Sanderson?”

The man stared down his nose at Price. “How long’s it been since anyone’s given you any appreciation?” He asked.

“Huh? Oh…” Price tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Can’t remember, so I reckon it’s been a while. Once you’re in my position you’re in charge of dishing it out to keep moral high.”

Roach hummed. “I mean in your love life.”

“The well’s run dry since I've been a Captain. Always been more of a giver, though.”

“Let me change that.”

[elvenbeard]

Sorry if this has been asked before, are you planning on getting Veilguard? I love your ocs and am sure would love to see your Rook grace my dash <3

Heyaaa :DD N'awww, first of all, thank you so much!! Honestly, I'd love to get Veilguard solely to make Tamlen in the CC and see if I can age him up and have him look like how I pictured him to look like older, back when it was uncertain still if there'd even be a Dragon Age 4!

But no, hasn't been asked before, at least not publicly on Tumblr xD (and even if, no worries, my asks are always open!)

I am planning to get Veilguard eventually, and I gotta say, I'm very sad and partly also conflicted that I can't play it atm and be there while the hype is big, enjoy it together with friends who have been waiting so long for a sequel xD DA was my big main fandom for so long, and I've loved DA since Origins (as you and a lot of the people who have been following me for a while probably know).

Currently though I'm A) still super invested in Cyberpunk - there is so much I still wanna do and create, and I'm scared that DATV would take up too much of the little time I have to do all that. B) I'm not in the best place mentally atm (just had some stuff happen these last months that dragged me down immensely, and I'm also finally legally transitioning irl - or trying to - and it's been an insane uphill struggle so far, as expected). And all that is also making it hard to find time and enjoy my hobbies like I used to, or doing commissions etc. And that gets me to C): finances are tight and I just can't afford an AAA title full-price right now. I know I don't have it nearly as bad as others and the game is a normal price for a AAA title, but I have necessary car repairs coming up, as well as vet bills, etc etc and in the grand scheme of things it is "only" 70€, but also 70€ I need to put towards these upcoming necessary bombshells on my bank account.

Sorry that turned into such a wall of text, but I guess I'm taking the chance to write a little life update XD In the long run I'm excited to get to know eveyone's Rooks, especially my friends' and long-term mutuals', but currently I have everything DA-related blacklisted to avoid spoilers for as long as possible. (And I hope I can open comms again soon and here as well am more than open to DA-related stuff again, as I've always been, even when I wasn't actively creating much for the fandom myself!)

[eataku]

Gray’s Papaya, NYC

That picture says it all.

Not much more needs to be written about the magic of Gray’s Papaya; their last remaining stand is on the corner of Broadway and West 72nd St., and you can’t help but be pulled in by the glow of their lights and smell of grilling hot dogs if you’re in the area. Popped in last week after a night of drinking with some old friends...

The one thing that has changed though is the prices. When I moved to NYC in 1996, their “Recession Special” was two dogs with the toppings of your choice and a drink for $1.99. Now? It was $4.95 for one dog and a drink...

As always, I went with their namesake, of course...

And as always, it was delicious! The frankfurter was perfectly grilled to get that snap you expect, slathered with onion sauce and a touch of mustard, both still free.

They do charge for other toppings now, though...

(Look, I love mayonnaise, but who puts it on a hot dog? And for fifty cents?!)

Three dogs and a drink will set you back $9.95, which isn’t too bad in the grand scheme of things here in Manhattan, but I can’t help but think back to “the good ‘ol days” whenever I eat here these days.

Putting current prices aside, Gray’s Papaya is a Big Apple institution and can’t be missed when you’re on the Upper West Side. A true taste of New York!

GRAY’S PAPAYA

2090 Broadway

NY, NY 10023

grayspapaya.nyc

[octopiys]

I. a partridge in a pear tree

Wordcount: 3.2k+

Pairing(s): eventual Soap/Ghost, Price/Nikolai

Warnings: blood/violence, traumatic injury, chronic pain (written by someone with chronic pain), ptsd, hallmark Christmas

(Yeah, here's your stupid little hallmark Christmas fic. Find the masterlist here)

Here's to @bringinsexybackk69 , @impossibletopronounce , @phasing-through-walls , @rai-to209 , and @lemonwrap for encouraging me to write this lol

In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that bad. Worse things have happened to him, and he knew that he'd snap back from it immediately right?

The gunfire was loud in his ringing ears, the young captain clearing the building quickly. One body, a second, a third, the room was clear. His sergeant followed behind them, the antennae of his radio sticking up above his helmet like a little bug.

"Room is clear, no sign of intel. Moving to the next room." He radioed, and his Sergeant, Roach, nodded in affirmation. Three more bodies to add to his report. God, he hated paperwork.

He stepped out into the hallway, messing with his throat mic some, distracted.

Being distracted in this field gets you killed. It was his first mistake in years.

The hallway was alight with gunfire, and before he knew it, he was firing back, a roaring pain ripping up his leg before a pair of gloved hands pulled him back by the vest, back into the room from before. Adrenaline was rushing in his ears, muting his senses, dulling his sight to a pinpoint. His hands were still on his gun at the ready, having slammed the door shut.

Then....

The door had been barricaded, and he wasn't sure when that happened. There was a face in his vision, almost too close.

"Sir- sir! Captain, stay with me, sir-" Roach's hands were moving frantically around his pants, and a few jokes crossed his mind, but his tongue felt like lead. Had he been drugged? He didn't recall any-

The young Sergeant pressed against his leg rather harshly, and a sharp yelp left his lips, pained and surprised. Roach looked worried, the lower half of his face visible underneath his heavy goggles, mouth pursed in a worried frown.

His sight was tinged with black, and it sounded like he was underwater. Slow-moving and muted, he tried to assess his surroundings. Gradually, he came to the conclusion that he was injured, a sharp pinch wrapping around his upper leg by a pressure formed as Roach wrapped a tourniquet tightly. Somehow, he processed that the wound was grisly, narrowly missing the bone.

Words like 'artery', or 'blood', or 'cornered' found themselves in his ears, often countered by 'pressure', or 'pack it', or 'back up' from the radio.

Worse things had happened, sure.

But it hadn't occurred to him at the time that he was bleeding out from a missed enemy in the hall. It hadn't occurred to him until Roach had taken off his blood smeared goggles, until Roach tried to get him to stand but he *couldn't*, until his vision swam and tipped, and the last thing he saw was Kate Laswell getting out of the helo, rushing towards him, looking scared-

It didn't occur to him until he was in the hospital, leg propped up with crutches at his side, staring at medical discharge papers, that this was worse than MacTavish thought.

It turned out that he couldn't snap back as well as he thought he could. He had no choice but to sign the papers, leaving his Sergeant, his best friend, and the rest of his task force behind.

But it didn't come easily. Recovery wasn't easy. Roach was there when he could be, under watchful eyes of Laswell. And when he was on a mission, or he couldn't make it, Soap did it all by himself. He stayed on the base hospital, unable to secure much of a place anywhere else.

PT was hell. They talk about it some in the movies or the shows, but they never really go through what it's like. They show the successes, and they don't show the failures. And believe him, he failed. A lot.

The first time, they had him propped up between two balance bars, using all of his upper body strength to keep himself upright. It was the pins and needles that hurt the most, starting at his hip, traveling down through his thigh, knee, and ending in his heel. And it hurt, like thousands of tiny bugs were crawling, climbing, gnawing through his skin like he was made of marshmello. The first step he took it worsened, the feeling angry, and it angered him. The second step was worse, the beams shifted, and he slipped, his legs completely giving out beneath him, and he hit the ground on his elbows. Hard.

The second time he did it, he made it four steps without falling.

The third time, he refused to get between the bars. Flat out denied the pitied looks from the nurses, the ones who didn't really care whether he made it through or not. Viewed him as another statistic, another job, just a patient they wanted to get out of the facility. He was so angry all the time, the inconsistent throb of pain shooting up his leg any time he moved, his medicine not being enough, the nagging feeling that he might be better off with just not going to physical therapy, that it wasn't really helping him.

After a week, Roach forced him to go back, threatened to break his crutches if he didn't abide. With a considerable amount of insistent pressure, he made it again.

The bruises on his elbows weren't worth it when he finally made it the entire length of the bars. Even if Roach was there to celebrate him, even if he's never seen the Sergeant so happy, even if he did make it, he kept telling himself he should've made it earlier than he had.

Roach stayed with him and attended more sessions since then. Claimed he was the emotional support sergeant.

Come the seventh session, or maybe it was the eighth, they began working on his upper body and balance once he could stand on his own. Tossing weight balls above his head, bouncing them on the wall, then catching them himself.

Roach was more of a help than his nurses, sitting with him when he needed a break, or when he was too frustrated to continue. He was like a caged bird, too cooped up, and he was going to go insane. Someone needed to throw a sheet over his cage to slow him down before he exploded into a mass of feathers and irritation.

The sandy haired Sergeant began doing his treatments with him, too. Up, down, jumping jacks, walking laps, weight balls up above his head. It was... beneficial.

He saw improvement. There had still been days where he couldn't leave his bed, the pain meds doing nothing to ease the ache that was so deep in his muscle that it was embedded worse than the bullet that put him out of commission. He could walk on his own. He couldn't run, not as fast as he used to without falling and hurting himself worse, but he could.... shuffle quickly.

"Roach, ah swear tae everything ye call holy-"

The Sergeant only laughed. "I'm sorry- really, sir, but have you- oh gods, have you seen The Walking Dead? You look like a-" He paused to take a breath, his entire body shaking with laughter. "You look like one of the Walkers from the first season, bloody hell, I'm sorry-"

Soap rolled his eyes, but a smile found itself on his face somehow because he did know what Roach was talking about, and he couldn't even deny the accuracy.

When he was officially discharged from the hospital, Roach threw him a celebration at the local bar. It was a small thing, but a few members from his force showed up, clapped him on the back, thanked him, and drank the night away. Even Kate showed up, which he was grateful for, until he figured out why.

"John," she starts slowly like she's making sure he knows that this is important. It's snowing outside, he notices, and finally it's the end of November.

"Och, Kate. Dinnae gimme that look." He hummed, nursing his drink, glancing a side eye at her. "Bad news?"

"Depends on who you ask." It's always refreshing to hear an American speak. Not that it was a bad thing. He liked the diversity. "I secured you a new location while you recover." He knew what she meant, and she was telling him to rest without actually saying it.

"Kate-"

"It's not far from here, actually. A while to drive, but we'll send you on a plane to save yourself from the pins and needles. It's a small town, pretty conspicuous. No one'll recognize you, if that's what you're worried about." She brushed a strand of hair out of her face as a bartender slid her a glass, and she accepted it with a smile of thanks. "A few old buddies of mine live there too. They like it well enough. They're old military too."

At her words, he imagined a bunch of gnarly old dudes, scarred from war and injury, and suddenly he felt like this was more of a retirement plan than a wait it out situation.

He scratched the scar on his chin, shifting in his seat to allow the brace on his leg to be comfortable. It never really was.

Kate reached for her hip and he reached for a weapon that wasn't there, mumbling a soft apology as she pulled out her phone to show him his new placement.

The city was small, more of like a mountain village. It was picturesque, like it was out of one of the old Christmas movies his Ma used to watch. The bakery seemed to be a main community point, as was the general store, and some form of petting zoo for.... elk?

"People are relatively kind too. Pretty accommodating, very.... accepting." There was another meaning there that went unsaid. "All you could ask for in a recovery town." She kept swiping through photos, and he took a larger swig of his drink this time around.

A small cabin showed up, a little off the main road near the outside of the town. Isolated enough, but if he needed to get anywhere in town he could do it quickly enough. Well, that is if he wasn't-

"It's small, but nice. I pulled some strings so the force paid for everything, and there's a training facility a few miles outside the city for your appointments. One bed, one bath, and the living room has a Murphy bed in case you have any need for guests. The kitchen works, but the sink is a little iffy on water pressure, so if you're looking for a project then-"

"It's great, Kate." Soap cut her off with a tight lipped smile. He caught Roach's eye down the bar, and the man gave him a concerned look before Soap stood, winced, and glanced at Kate again. "Really, it is. Thank you." He said, before limping off to the washroom.

Later, he might feel bad for being brisk with her, especially for everything she did for him.

The sink was on and the door had closed before he knew it, running his hands under cold water. A minute hadn't even gone by before Roach joined him, albeit almost hurriedly.

"Cap? You alright there?" Roach said, joining him at the sink side.

Soap, in the meantime, was naming five things he could see, four things he could hear-

"Ah'm doon good, Roach." He huffed, scrubbing his hands without soap, just using the cold.

"Bullshit, sir." Roach leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "I mean, at least it's only temporary."

Soap paused, his hands stilling. "Laswell tell ye?"

"I heard enough." The Sergeant hummed softly, turning off the water for him. "Could be a nice change in pace for you. Gods know you won't put yourself in for vacation, think of this as as mandatory break, sir."

Soap dried his hands off and glared at him, but there was no malice behind it.

"Landscape is pretty enough, too-"

"I'll send you a postcard-"

"-You'll have a white Christmas by the looks of it." Roach continued as if he hadn't heard him. "And it could be worse. You could be relocated to... I don't know, somewhere with nothing. Like Illinois. What's in Illinois? Nothing."

Soap breathed a laugh through his nose, leaning against the sink. "Yer welcome tae stay if the family gets rough."

"I'm sure I'll take you up on that, sir."

It turned out that the airport didn't even have a commercial flight to the town, so he had to take a private plane. It was cold already, and he barely had a shoulder bag of things to bring with him, so he wrapped himself tighter in his windbreaker (which was definitely not enough) and made his way towards the gate.

A text came through his issued phone, from Laswell.

'My guy's in the blue jacket, should be getting out of the red chopper any second now'

Then a second one,

'Looks suspicious, I'm sure. But it's his pride and joy. I swear it's safe'

Soap scoffed and scanned the tarmac, looking for a red helo. Sure enough, he found one halfway down, and sure as shit a man in a blue jacket was stepping out of it, taking his headset off.

Soap begrudgingly began to hobble his way towards the chopper, meeting the pilot halfway. The man had shoulder length raven hair, and he was clearly built out, physique wise. His eyes were hidden behind aviators, and his face held a decent amount of stubble, but not yet a beard. With his blue jacket, he wore a black and white striped shirt beneath it, and a gold necklace.

"Are you Nikolai?" Soap shouted over the roar of the rudders.

"Laswell's man!" The pilot shouted back in a distinct Russian accent. Despite the ops they had been working on recently, Soap knew he could trust him. Laswell's friend and all. Nikolai stuck his hand out, shook Soap's, then took his bag and threw it in the cabin of the helo. "Are you afraid of heights, my friend?'

"Nae... why?"

But Nikolai only laughed in response.

They landed and Soap was never rmore glad to be on the ground than at that moment. Military trained his arse, he thought he was gonna die more times in that helo than the entire time he had to figure out how to pilot in enemy airspace after his original pilot had been shot in the throat.

Another hearty chuckle from Nikolai as a goodbye, but Soap supposes he'd met worse people. The Uber took him directly into town from the frosted over field where they had landed, and dropped him off in the square.

Very few people were milling about, the cold wind nipping his nose and turning his skin flushed red. His windbreaker was not sufficient enough for him, which meant he'd probably have to find some off the wall clothing store. His bag still over his shoulder, he decided to explore some.

Okay, he might not've gotten that far. The impromptu change in weather and atmospheric pressure made his leg act up, especially after being cramped in a plane, then a helo, then a car for so long. His brace was stiff, and really, he just needed to sit-

Which is how he ended up in a cornerstore bakery with a donut or two sitting next to his sketchbook, waiting on a mug of freshly brewed coffee. He's gonna swear by them now, best damn things he's ever eaten.

The bakery was a cute, quaint little thing that barely stuck out, but it, like the rest of the town, had been decorated to the nines for the holidays. The white brick of the back walls were washed in a warm yellow light of Christmas lights, hung around the corners of the room. Wreaths and garland lined the countertops, a little bell dining when one walked in. The large windows in the front weren't ignored either, fake snow and little jelly stick ons had been pressed onto the glass in preparation for Christmas. Soft music played from a speaker in one of the corners, and Soap had scored himself a two seater table, propping his leg up on the chair across from him and sighing from relief.

'Dinnae warn me how bloody cold it would be, Kate' He texted her.

Also, it was much warmer in here than it was outside.

He didn't get a response back.

The man from behind the counter brought him his mug, lingering around the table for a moment for any other questions.

Soap, for one, still had barely any idea what was going on, so he decided to take a shot in the dark.

"Er- this might be odd to ye, but do ye ken where Chestnut Road is? Haven't been able to find it from the streets-" Given, he hadn't looked much, however, he doubted he'd be able to find it in this- oh would you look at that, it's snowing.

The man pauses, before backpedalling a few steps. He flashed Soap a warm smile, and he noted the bits of frosting stuck to the man's face, along with some powdered sugar that had settled on the rim of the old blue baseball cap he was wearing. The man was very obviously cleaned up, his coiled hair tucked beneath his cap, his mocha colored skin practically glowing, and Soap could fail to find a single imperfection. "Chestnut Road? That's just right up the street, mate. You hit the light and take a left, follow it up the hill. You here to visit?" The man asked curiously, leaning on the table.

"Och nae, ah'm no tourist, just moved here this morn' from the air base a few hours southwest o' here." He tried to haphazardly explain.

"Oh, military too?" The man, who's name tag read 'Kyle' in a handwritten flourish, asked, like he wasn't that surprised.

"Are we an exotic breed, lad?" Soap joked, sipping from his mug with a kind of hesitancy behind his words.

"Nah. Get a few of em every couple years. I quit to take care of my dad when 'e got sick, then took over this place afterwards. Lots of baking skills to learn, y'know." Soap felt a bit of shock at that. Townspeople here are pretty open. And he was talking to the owner of this wonderful bakery-

"Wait, yer tellin' me ye made these yerself?" Soap gestured to the donuts with a grin.

"If you're gonna tell me they're bad, then no it wasn't me." Kyle joked back to him.

"Nae, I'd never!" He feigned a hand over his heart. "Best damn things ah've ever had!"

The baker's face flushed with pride, his chest puffing up a little. "Thank you, I appreciate it.... Uh- I'm Kyle, by the way."

"Johnny." He greeted smoothly.

"Gaz, the coffee machine is broken again!" A woman's voice called from the register, a shorter woman with tanned skin, a patterned scarf wrapped around her neck, and Kyle jumped to attention.

"Uh... I gotta go fix that, but I'll see ya around, yeah?" Kyle lightly punched Soap's shoulder. "If you need help moving in, let somebody know!" He called over his shoulder, before he sprinted back to the kitchen.

Soap gave a two finger salute, smiling, and went back to his sketchbook.

A fresh start. Something new. Huh.

How about that?

Taglist: open

Next

[saltminerising]

/736734175634358272

TLDR; Staff shouldn't keep in mind those who breed right off the bat to try and profit because that is not what game devs do, its not because I just don't think they should. If you want to gene dragons day one use the methods you can to limit the chance of using a glitched gene and take responsibility for your choice of wanting to gene a dragon day one and not push it onto staff. Items being bought with IRL currency are not somehow magically immune to ever having bugs. There is most likely QA, staff is just being held to unrealistic expectations here.

[Actual Start of The Essay, yes I know its long I'm sorry]

It shouldn't be considered by staff because staff's main concern is getting the product out. Its not simply a "I don't think staff should consider it" its "considering a population of users that profit off a byproduct of how we release things is not what we should be doing" nor should they be expected to. Staff's priority is "try and make sure we can do what we can before the breed is launched" and "try and fix everything that is broken after launch" that is just how games run. Its just what happens and they have no reason to concern themselves with it. Its not a "fuck you" its a "this is a huge update and bugs will happen." You are reading malice or intentional neglect where we have no evidence of it.

If you don’t want to wait because you want profit that is on you. That is your choice you are making to ignore the system staff has in place to keep us informed of what things are bugged because inevitably there will be stuff bugged. You can still do it, I am not saying it’s wrong nor does there being bugs mean staff is targeting you specifically, it’s just a choice you are making and you have to accept the risks. That is something you need to accept you’re responsible for, not staff, because staff is already doing their part. If you think that’s too much risk, then I suggest finding some other way to make money, if it still sounds appealing to you, here’s some ways to avoid accidentally using bugged genes (I am more so using the 'general you', not towards any specific individual, here);

Compare new genes between each pose and see if they’re all consistent with each other. Compare old gene accent colors to new gene accent colors and be suspicious if you can't find any that match up, either are too drab, or are too bright. Always be cautious of extremely dark genes (there is a reason people where immediately asking if pharaoh / sarcophagus was an error). This isn't full proof but it helps reduce the chances getting glitched genes because again, you kinda just gotta accept the chance your dragons will change.

There being items you can buy with IRL currency does not suddenly lift the veil of potential bugs. If I buy a game or DLC or whatever and there's a few bugs in it, I don't go "Oh how is there not any basic quality control in this game?!" (I mean, unless its like really bad or they're very prevalent, there is a point obviously where you can start questioning their QA) Instead, I report it. No matter how many times you say, "These are premium items, there shouldn't be any bugs!" that does not stop unintended results from happening because they are unintended, unplanned for, that slip through the cracks results. This happens no matter how much QA you have because big updates are like that (and even small ones have some wiggle through!). Yeah, they shouldn't be there, and yeah, you can be a bit annoyed, but they're going to be there. These bugs do not warrant a "there's no basic QA in this game!" to me.

Also "paywalled"? Okay trying not to be too dismissive here but....really? Skins are no more paywalled then genes and that's to say they aren't. Sure some can be pretty expensive (which is their right to be) but not all of them will be (the average / go to price is 850g...that is not much in the grand scheme of things). Flight Rising is known for being very free to play friendly (even if you can't coli, yeah, they're not as efficient but that's comparing them to The ColiTM) and tons of people make skins for new breeds.

Staff is being quick to fix new errors (as shown by the large amount of fixes on the Auraboa report thread), I think they don’t want their dragons being released with bugs as much as we do.

[vgilantee]

nastiness aside, i really hope you find someone to get comfortable with soon, maybe get a visit from sweetheart or glossy (idk if i’m behind on char lore). also can we talk about dirty old man price who nearly gets a nosebleed if he ever finds out you’re a virgin. and if you’re technically not, he’ll still find something to do to you for the first time -nasty

my loves are so far away 😭 but yeah idk. in the grand scheme of things I know I'm still very young, but also I'm 24 in (exactly) 5 months so it feels. too late. mid 20s and still no exes or dates good, bad, or otherwise? yeah... and we won't even talk about my winning streak of Only Rejections when I confess feelings/ask people out

YES. old man price's mouth drops open a little and his vision blurs when he hears you mumble you're a virgin (or have never been given oral, or had someone in the back). and if he wasn't nasty before he definitely realises he is now. he's going to take any and all firsts you haven't had, carve his place inside you

[jabeur]

i uh kind of want to ask my therapist if he could lower the prices of our sessions not by much just a bit. i remember at the start he asked me if his standard price was affordable for me or not which makes me think he'd understand if i asked but i feel so bad about it......... but i have to think of my finances like more long term i'm okay but between rent and groceries and the money i also put in my family's card and therapy and all the extra expenses my money runs thinner every month i really don't make nearly enough with my part time job to do this for a much longer time.... and the thought of having to go to my mum asking for money is bad like i can't even insist on the money she kind of owes me that she says she'll give me but still hasn't i just. i'm not sure if i can get something extra from doing something on the side like translations maybe bc. i have so little energy always. so i think maybe even just 50 euros less a month can be something bc in the grand scheme of things that's a lot like in a year add it all up it's a lot. idk. can i ask him that or is it a bad thing to do or. 😭😭

[dragon-business]

Post prison blues

previously on

Thinking sad thoughts today.

So, after 0 Kiryu, crushed by the guilt after what happened with Tachibana, comes back to the yakuza world, despite seeing it for what it is now, and not liking it one bit. Because he has to "take his responsibilities" there. Has to be the pillar of good in this wretched world. Sure. Cool. Awesome hero complex there, can see the overwhelming weight of guilt and self- punishment peaking through.

So he goes on like that for about 7 years, right? Even hangs out with his family and has some fun sometimes. Gaining respect, while his boss slowly declines from a competent yakuza to a pathetic drunk reckless mess (partially thanks to the events Kiryu had a part in back in the day). And then terrible horrible no good day comes, when Nishiki has to save Yumi from that disgusting pathetic man by shooting him to death.

Oh, the sweet days of y0, when Kiryu promised his brother that if they'll have to kill somebody, they'll cross that bridge together. Be there for each other. Oh, the irony of Kiryu being late, just a couple minutes late (he is always late, late fixing things with Jingu, late to save Tachibana, late, late, late all the time) and Nishiki having to take action himself.

Oh, the even bigger irony of Kiryu not staying to be there for Nishiki facing it with him like they promised. But taking all of that burden on himself. Standing up for his brother, sure, but also separating from him in this one move, too. For long, long 10 years.

Do you think Kiryu felt relieved taking, wrestling this burden all to himself? Here it is, the big grand Repenting, the thing that almost makes up for all the bad things Kiryu thinks he's done. He can leave the yakuza world now, officially, and go out doing something noble, and good, helping his brother… who will have to live with the consequences of this grand saving gesture, but alas. Kiryu will not be there to feel the suffocating weight of his kindness.

And, seeing in what state Kiryu gets out of prison, I'm gathering that for 10 years behind bars Kiryu… didn't do much. Didn't socialize, didn't exercise, didn't think of much but day to day life. Just sat there in his cell dissociating. And I get that prison is a pretty traumatic, deprivation torture machine on itself. But still.

And so, eventually he gets out. With sun high and bright, the guards give Kiryu back all that he had on him at the time of the arrest: a couple long expired energy drinks, and his old dusty suit that hangs on his frame a bit now. He drinks the energy drinks, because the new prices on them are bitey, and punks on the street punch twice as hard now.

And he did his time, he repented, right? He's free? He can barely afford a taxi, and neon lights burn his eyes, and no one, not a single soul comes around to greet him. He is a legend now, a rumor, a Figure, and, as always, a pawn to play in some grand ol' scheme. 

Only Kamurocho stayed the same with all the gangs and scams and nightlife. Kiryu almost feels at home there, helping out random people, getting back into old hobbies… and through it all there's only one person who treats him normally. As normally as he can, at least. The only person who seeks Kiryu out, and is glad to see him, and is trying to help him get on his feet, get his strength back. And is also ready to do normal, mundane stuff with Kiryu, too.

Guess- guess who it is guys. The one person who thought Kiryu most definitely killed his boss, but still made an effort to help him readjust to life again. Albeit in his own, kinda fucked up way.

How long do you think it took for Kiryu to start appreciating and looking forward to his encounters with Majima? Because in the game it was by the 2nd or 3d one :'D

I can't wait to translate our logs and notes on Majima Everywhere! :3c

- before / navigation / next

[rubykgrant]

When I started making little up-dates to my RVB face designs, that was no big deal... but then I decided to add more characters, mostly ones who are relevant to the big story-line I'm working on, and also a few that are important in some way or I simply want to play around with faces. LOOK AT ALL THIS. I have to draw that. Because I decided I had to. For some reason.

The top six up there are the "orange" Reds who only existed for like, 2 episodes and (presumably, but maybe not?) died. They don't especially matter in the grand scheme of things, but I kept thinking about what they might look like, so. I'm just gonna do that. The next few are North, South, CT,York, Maine, and Wyoming. We know what most of them actually look like, but I want to translate that into my own style, plus make a concept for Maine (if I have the strength... I will make a few face designs for the Insurrectionist folks as well). Same situation for the Director, Price, and Hargove; their faces are already known, I'll just do my own spin (to be fair, I'm mostly done with the Director's nonsense in my story, but Price will be relevant in a fairly important flash-back, and Hargrove is still running around out there, so the rest of the characters will eventually find him and beat him up).

Then there's the Chorus groups, starting with Kimball, Grey, and Felix. He also has a known design, but that was before he went full genocide-murder-mode... also, I'm gonna have fun with a whole "came back wrong" situation with him. I've done some designs for the Lieutenants before, just gonna add to that (and Dolly is the name I gave to the volleyball girl~). Andrews and Jax will get some face designs, and I'm bringing back 479er! Sharkface might be gone, but he is not forgotten (that's actually and IMPORTANT plot point in my story), and I want to make a design for Jimmy just to show how NOT similar he is to Church, and Temple is also around being a jerk again (he's not dead, and there is some fun angst potential with him).

The Triplets also get to join the group! Also, Sherry (from Charon Industries) is along for the ride, and Mason comes back (he's got some WORDS for Locus and certain BAD DECISIONS). An extra space beside them for an OC I'm still forming in my head (I kinda came up with a few, but when I wanted to seriously use them in my story, I had re-work a few things... I'm combining certain aspects of different characters together, making somebody new). Lastly, the Blues and Reds (minus Lorenzo, who is a robot, and thus a perpetual suit of armor). A few of them are dead and nobody except Temple and Gene are really causing trouble anymore, but I still want to have fun with how they might look with similarities/opposites of the Reds and Blues.

So, yeah... I'm gonna be doing THIS for a while

[kyrodo]

If you took basic psychology maybe you'd stop taking actions against people that you've understood on a 90% off fucking discount. You don't have a fucking excuse. Last I recall when R block evaded me likely using his ad, I didn't break into his house. All sorts of stupid shit happens when people get heartbroken and you haven't given people time to recover. You could have fucking waited. Stalking the same way we started our parasocial interaction, communicating the same way we were already communicating, block evading, name changing, emotional posts in places only you would check, looking him up on telegram. Invasive, ridiculously emotional, but par for the fucking course. I'm sorry, what about my actions doesn't make any fucking sense to you asshole? You know I've never looked at a wounded animal and wondered why the fuck they're crying. Cringing in pain or doing whatever it takes to cope with those emotions. The expressions of emotions I made were colorful and loud, but I didn't do a single thing to you bitch. If only you gave people more than a week to fuck off, or better yet actually wanted them to in the first place before hitting them with a fucking ruler.

How many times do you need me to remind you that your actions are purely aggressive, not reactive. You deliberately sought my attention looking for me to respond to something the moment this should have been fucking over. The moment I was finally about to get out of your hair but the iron was still hot. When a part of me would still be searching for hope false or not. And you made a fucking decision. Decisions like yours come with a fucking price tag.

Had I been dealing with anyone else in your position I was still well within my lane in the grand scheme of things that happened and what I felt. Too bad you're not most people. Only you would choose the third option not a week in after I said this was over. Not many people would hack someone they haven't even tried to talk to. That's all you. This is your answer to every conflict and every dispute that you don't actually give a fuck about ending peacefully.

I don't understand how you fucking live doing shit like that to people. Not because they deserve it but because you want whatever shitty feeling of superiority over people you don't like. I am a near endless source of words when I'm mad, some of which can be exploited by those who want cheap forms of revenge against. But your actions speak louder than my words EVER will.

How can I be so loud, so noisy, but the special bitch of the moment turns out to be you. How does that make any fucking sense? You would have been better off letting me rant and rant till my keyboard broke, poke fun at it with all your friends, block me everywhere, recover, move on talk about me in whatever demeaning way you pleased, and I would have remained the villain here whether you did me justice or not. "Oh look at this asshole who was stalking me on Twitter." You had that advantage and you threw it away. You don't understand how little you had to do to be the hero or the victim at the end of the day. But you don't know when to fucking stop.

Sometimes the best thing you can do about something is nothing at all. Maybe you should try it sometime. This wouldn't be the same tragedy if you weren't a fucking prick.

And think about things from my position for once. Whatever feeling, whatever I'm hoping for. The things I'd be self conscious about and trying to find clues on what's being discussed about me before you start instigating a fucking "zoom meeting" with me. If you had even the slightest sense of emotional intelligence, I'd have so much less to be mad about right now. Just because you like horror doesn't mean you can't be a decent fucking human being. The way I see it didn't take a whole lot of guess work to actually figure me out, you just didn't fucking care.

Even though I used to scatter information about myself to the four winds, you had more than enough immediately visible information not be a fucking bitch.

[josiebelladonna]

well, i was planning on taking the summer off but something is going on with alex, though. again. except this is worse. much, much worse.

(think i’ll just come on here sporadically from here on out)

so yesterday, i learned alex uses the waking up app for meditation. i had to look into it because i never heard of it and initially, i completely get why he uses it: it’s meditation based on agnosticism, which is brilliant because it’s hard to find anything like that that doesn’t go all religious on us (really, just ask me how fucking frustrating it is to do research on what the hell spirituality has to do with sexuality and not find things that go on about god and the bible and whatnot).

there are a couple of things about it that bug the hell out of me, though.

aside from the outlandish price—$120 a year following a 30-day trial, like bro, hulu doesn’t even charge that much—if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

the guy who started the app, sam harris, is an atheist, which on its own sent a red flag to me, sorry not sorry. i identify as an agnostic for several reasons, notably the fact that every atheist i’ve ever met is a preachy asshole. they’re basically just like the hyper religious nut jobs but they use logic rather than god to undermine you. the app’s modus operandi is basically teaching you to become aware of the lack of sense of self inside until you become one with everything.

aware of the lack of self inside. something about this felt so off to me when i read it, because i learned a long time ago that you don’t need something or someone to “complete” you: you’re whole as is. you’re a whole person as is in the grand scheme of things. if you’re becoming aware that your sense of self is weak, then it’s probably a psychiatric issue. i hate how holier-than-thou its intent is, too, like “this is the way, the real way, not that conventional meditation crap :)”, which is such an atheist thing and it really is no better than the bible thumpers who do the same thing but with god at the helm. it’s like the creepy, foul-smelling twin of solipsism, which says that the sense of self is the only thing that exists.

i saw a quote on quora (don’t judge me) that said, “if you’re tapping your way to enlightenment, you’ll never get there.” quora and reddit are both littered with edgelords and people who talk out of both corners of their mouths, but that caught my attention because i have realized how much better i feel staying away from here. hell, within the first week i was feeling better.

as for meditation/mindfulness… i’m no guru (in fact, I’m furthest away from something of a guru), but it’s really just about stopping to smell the roses. hearing your own breath and focusing on that for some 5 to 10 minutes. it’s being aware of your thoughts and behavior, of your mind and body. it’s about calming your thoughts for a few minutes. and it’s something that you do over the course of your life by nature, not by some fucking app that costs $100+ and only works 10% of the time anyway. if you do it enough, it’ll become part of your personality. it’s not a quick fix, either, so you’re going to have bad days, days you don’t feel like it, and in my case, you’re going to unearth some things. if you’re tapping your way to mindfulness, you’ll never get there.

i don’t have any idea how long he’s been using the app, he didn’t specify but i think it was around the solstice when i noticed a shift in alex’s behavior—i say the solstice because that was the last time he did a livestream and he acknowledged me again. he would like my comments when no one was looking—in fact, i still anticipate him doing that because it always made my day and made my heart skip a few beats. he would come onto my stories constantly just to watch.

now, it’s like someone reprogrammed him from the ground up. he’s been weirdly disengaged. he actually disparaged things like pastries and baked goods—when the man loves his cannoli and pie, and every time i make babka (or anything jewish), i think of him. i got into jewish cooking because of him—my support of israel definitely plays a role but it goes back to him. plus, i’m a baker next to an artist and writer now, baked goods are part of my bread and butter now (as is literal bread and butter) so imagine how that made me feel to see him say that. “holidays are for indulging”, indulge when you feel like it and there’s nothing wrong with you for feeling these things, either.

i’ve been mindfully eating since last july. i lost a ton of weight. but i’m a baker, a bread maker, a pastry chef. the other day i was eating this big burger with caramelized onions and french fries and i still woke up with a slim belly the next day. i’m about to make another key lime pie during this freaking heat wave and the last one i made, i was still able to keep my weight down (i actually lost weight). if you’re having a problem with cravings, it sounds counterintuitive but don’t ignore them: if you want a piece of pie, have a piece of pie, but just have the one slice and eat it slowly so you enjoy every aspect of it; you don’t need multiple. this is literally how you stop those cravings in their tracks. and i have actual medical science to back me up on this, too.

i genuinely don’t get his logic here like… there’s nothing inherently wrong with temptation. a little party never killed anyone. it’s all about balance (he’s a libra, libras love balance… at least i thought they did). it really does feel like that toxic diet culture i grew up with in the 2000s but with a different coat of paint. all i see here is a slippery slope: the man of my dreams is on a slippery slope and there’s nothing i can do. a phony attempt at meditation is taking advantage of his flaws and foibles and blowing them up.

i have no doubt that fucking g*psy definitely had something to do with it, too. becoming one with her and leaving me behind in the dust as if I’m the other woman: i may be in love with him but you got another thing coming if you think i’m the other woman.

it’s such a shock from the alex of the last three years, the alex i got to know and fall in love with and put me out in the open.

this whole time i’m thinking of a quote from ron swanson: “people who buy things are suckers.”

i want my jerk back, you toxic cunts.