#and this lab company is incompetent

[rathockey]

i have submitted my insurance THREE TIMES for this labwork and they still are failing at filing it. i have to call AGAIN.

[consultingwives]

As someone who works in the reliability sector of IT I cannot emphasize how much you have to give 0 fucks about professional standards and best practices in order to do something like what Crowdstrike did.

At the company I work for, which you have definitely heard of, there are thousands of people (including me, hi) part of whose job it is to sit in rooms for literal hours every week with the people building new features and updating our software and ask them every question we can possibly think of about how their changes might impact the overall system and what potential risks there are. We brainstorm how to minimize those risks, impose requirements on the developers, and ultimately the buck stops with us. Some things are just too risky.

Many of the practices developed at this and other companies are now in wide use across the industry, including things like staggered rollouts (i.e. only 1/3 people get this update at first, then 2/3, then everyone) and multi-stage testing (push it to a fake system we set up for these purposes, see what it does).

In cases where you’re updating firmware or an os, there are physical test devices you need to update and verify that everything behaves as expected. If you really care about your customers you’ll hand the device to someone who works on a different system altogether and tell them to do their worst.

The bottom line here is that if Crowdstrike were following anything even resembling industry best practices there should have been about twenty failsafes between a kernel bug and a global update that bricked basically every enterprise machine in the world. This is like finding out the virus lab has a direct HVAC connection to the big conference room. There is genuinely no excuse for this kind of professional incompetence.

[gilbirda]

DPxDC cheat sheet

So. I'm not a nitpicking person. I understand that mistakes can be made and typos are a thing and sometimes we are just not the kind of person that can make words work for a variety of reasons (dyslexia, for example).

This is not for that people.

This is for everyone who stumbled into this fandom by mistake and had learned things via osmosis and don't have the energy/time to check the source material for the "correct" thing.

Y'all are valid.

This is a cheat sheet of correct terms and fandom things that are not correct that I've seen in fics.

Disclaimer: while experimenting with canon is fun, this is just to lay down the rules of what's what so it can be the springboard of y'all's beautiful creations.

Given that some people just can't behave online: "If you don't have anything constructive to say, don't say anything." Did I say something wrong? You have resources better than this? You want to make a nitpick? Cool! More info to the mix — But come at me in a hurtful and insulting way and I'm blocking you on the spot.

[Will add more when I think more/have suggestions]

DP SIDE - Post "A Glitch in Time" Canon

Sam is Jewish

Sam is ultra-recyclo-vegetarian aka "doesn't eat anything with a face". Is not a real thing.

It's "Amity Park" not "Amity Ville".

Wes is fanon, same as Kyle. Info on Wes here

It's "Casper High", not "Caspar High".

Mr. Lancer doesn't have a canon name. Common fanon ones are William or Edward.

Ghost obsessions are canon. In AGIT, it's explained that ghosts have a purpose or drive. Danny's purpose is "protection" of both humans and ghosts.

Ghost cores are fanon-ish (there is a mention that Danny's ice powers come from his "core" temperature and is never addressed again, of course) (Episode is "Urban Jungle"). Then in the videogame Urban Jungle for the Nintendo DS, Undergrowth's "core" is an actual object called a "core".

Ghost speak is fanon. However, in AGIT, it's revealed that there's an ghost alphabet, and it's ancient form is based on sanskrit and tamil alphabets. Codex of Ghost alphabet.

Ghost Hunger is canon! In AGIT it's revealed that ghosts feed on emotions and thoughts to stay sapient. If they don't, they become feral with time. Halfas feed from their human side, remaining stable.

Danny is the bridge between the spirit world and living world - canon!

Danny beats the Ghost King Pariah Dark in combat, but faints and that fight is never addressed in the series again. Ghost King!Danny is fanon-ish so go ham with interpreting that. (Episode is "Reign Storm")

Tucker is the reincarnation?? (never stated in canon, but he does look alike) of a pharaoh named "Duul Aman" (Duulaman is also accepted as spelling). Said pharaoh never appears in the series as a ghost, just a picture. Who does appear is his (evil) right hand man, Hotep-Ra, who tries to manipulate Tucker (Episode is "King Tuck"). That Tucker gets cool magic from this event is fanon. But cool.

Sam gets possessed by Undergrowth via a vine straight into her spine (gross). Undergrowth calls her "his daughter" and she tries to lure Danny into "joining her to take over the world". (Episode is "Urban Jungle"). That Sam gets cool plant powers from this event is fanon. But cool.

The Fenton parents are never physically abusive - just comedically neglectful in the way parents are depicted in early 2000s cartoons. Incompetent, misguided, dumb... but they are shown to love their kids. The even accept Danny the 2 canon times they find out about him (Episodes "Reality Trip" and "Phantom Planet").

Jazz is never shown as "mature" in the sense that she had to parent Danny and be the responsible adult. She is comedically the "annoying and meddling older sister" from early 2000s cartoons. She wants to be considered an adult. She couldn't see Youngblood, who is a child ghost that cannot be seen by adults, and Danny had to push her into acting childish to make her see him.

Axiom labs is bought by Vlad's company "Vlad.co" not "DALV.co". DALV.co was the fake company that paid for Maddie and Danny to fly to a conference but stranded them in a forest where Vlad's cabin coincidentally was. (Episode "Maternal Instincts")

Dan is not older Danny. He is not called "Dan" in the series, just "Dark Danny". In The Ultimate Enemy videogame for GBA, he's called Dan Phantom. He is Danny's ghost half, who killed his human half, ate/merged with Vlad's ghost side and then tried to kill Vlad's human side. Was losing his humanity what made him evil? Was it merging with the Bad Guy(tm) of the series? ����‍♀️ Take it as you will. (Episode is "The Ultimate Enemy")

Freakshow is NOT a clown. He is the ringmaster of a goth circus (called Circus Gothica). Danny's headcanoned fear of clowns can be traced back to the "circus" and clown-related imagery surrounding Freakshow's performances, but not directly BY Freakshow. (Episodes "Control Freaks" and "Reality Trip")

DC SIDE

Damian (not Damien or Demian) had never confirmed his religion. Fanon has accepted he is Muslim.

Bruce is from a Jewish family (Martha Wayne was Jewish), but he considers himself an atheist. Same with Kate Kane (Batwoman).

It's "Selina" Kyle, not "Selena" or "Salina".

It's "Talia" Al Ghul, not "Thalia".

It's "Jason", not "Jayson".

Damian is vegetarian, not vegan. It means he doesn't eat meat, but eats animal produces like eggs, milk, etc. He went vegetarian after rescuing Batcow from a slaughterhouse, he didn't arrive at the manor already being vegetarian.

Duke is NOT adopted. Bruce is fostering him temporarily and is more of a mentor to him than a father. Duke considers the others his siblings, though. EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT DUKE: Part 1 | Part 2

Dick was not adopted as a kid, Dick was Bruce's ward. That term is not used anymore, though. Adoption happened later in Dick's adulthood.

It's Gotham, not "Gothem".

Cassandra IS adopted.

Cassandra's most common nickname is "Cass". Even if "Cassie" has been used in canon before, is more commonly used Cass in fandom. Cassie is used more to refer to Cassandra Sandsmark, Wondergirl.

"Baby bird" or "Baby bat" are fanon-ish(?). Little Wing, Dickie, Dickie-bird... Canon! Jaylad is not canon, but Jaybird is canon! A GREAT post with receipts about all nicknames. ("Replacement" isn't canon btw).

Stephanie Brown was the 4th Robin. She is not adopted, and was part of the batfamily because she was dating Tim. She is still considered batfamily even if they are not dating anymore.

In Hush, when Jason comes back to Gotham, Jason puts a knife on Tim's throat, but barely leaves a cut. Tim's throat wasn't injured during the Titans Tower attack.

Cass is selectively mute because she wasn't taught any language beyond what she needed to predict people's movements. She doesn't know sign language. She doesn't know how to read and write (more recent comics show her reading a bit). But she could learn, with difficulty. Very in depth analysis of Cass' disability.

Jason's "Pit Madness" is fanon. Canon offers Ra's saying "the Pit alters the mind - could happen for a few days or for years, you never know" or something like that, and that's it. There is reason to believe that the Lazarus Pit can cloud judgement for a while but there is no voice in the back of the head or the Pit taking over.

Tim never expressed special interest in photography or in it as a hobby. Nor he is a coffee addict more than the other bats, who pull all nighters on the reg. He is actually addicted to energy drinks.

There are 2 main Conner/Kon-El/Superboy I portrayed in fics: Young Justice cartoon one (grumpy, same age as Dick, kind of an asshole, has daddy issues, wears black shirt and jeans, has a space motorcycle and a pet wolf) and 90s comics one (leather jacket, piercings, punny guy, same age as Tim, has a #nohomo relationship with Tim, kind of a himbo).

There are a few Ghost superheroes - Greta Hayes (Secret), she was in Tim's run as Young Justice's leader; and Boston Brand (Deadman), who is a member of Justice League Dark (with Constantine and Zatanna and Swamp Thing!). So the DC heroes are familiar with ghosts and ghost powers.

It's "rogues" gallery, not "rouge". Rouge means "red" in french.

Clark is never abusive to Conner, he just doesn't know what to do with him and chooses to ignore the problem; which, yeah, is mean, but not to the levels that fanon has taken it. And this is in the Young Justice cartoons, not across all depictions. In comics, they consider each other family and that's why Conner took a kryptonian name (Kon-El - of house of El, Kal's family)

The whole "No metas in Gotham" is not true. Batman understands that Gotham is very Fucked Up and that if you add metahumans and heroes with powers trying to do good to the mix it could make things worse. Outsiders don't understand Gotham and if they get jokerized or mind controlled, it will get ugly real quick. That's why Signal is cool beans! Duke is a gothamite through and through.

While is interesting that no one in the Batfam knows about Tim's missing spleen, is very probable that Alfred knows - post about this

Constantine is more powerful than it looks like. A post about interesting abilities.

Damian has a metal spine. Yeah I don't know how it works either. They used it as way for Talia to control Damian for a bit :(

Interesting links:

What's fanon in DP

Fan project for Ghost Speak, written and spoken form, and a ghost speak generator - post AGIT canon

Transcripts of all the Danny Phantom episodes

The whole DP series + the complementary comics + A Glitch in Time comic (if you are able to buy the AGIT comic please do 🙇‍♀️)

How to pronounce Ra's Al Ghul

BatPham ship names (updated regularly).

What are the canon ages of the Batfam?

In depth guide to everything Batman in one place (be prepared to go down the rabbit hole)

Fanon vs Canon Batfam edition

Superfam family tree

Interactive map of Gotham (Gotham Knights videogame)

Timeline of events (Batfam adoption order and ages when those events happen)

Map of Gotham (made based on various sources, with annotations (check the reblogs for more info))

The Titans Tower attack: Fanon vs Canon and More thoughts on the Titans Tower Attack (with links to the comics online)(wear protection kids! before clicking the links have a solid adblocker and a vpn if possible)

This person has dedicated a lot of time to research receipts of Comic stuff so check out their masterlist

---

Suggestions are welcome! Please be kind with each other and remember to have fun with this fandom!

[pleasoflove]

love grows best in little houses — lee jeno

roommate jeno x f reader

fluff, friends to lovers, pining, close proximity … >:)

7k words

summary: love grows best in little houses with fewer walls to separate, where you eat and sleep so close together you can't help but communicate. if we had more room between us, think of all we'd miss... love grows best in houses just like this.

authors note: this silly modern all white farmhouse quote had me thinking!!!

“I’m home,” You announce quite obnoxiously, jingling your keys and shopping bags. You made sure to shake the doorknob a little before stepping in as well, doing the courtesy of warning your roommate in case he had company over. 

Instead, you find him relaxed on the couch, a knowing smile resting on his face. He gets up to help you with the grocery bags, “I could tell.” 

You give Jeno an eyeroll, hanging your keys on the little rack by the door. “I’m doing you a favor, okay? Last thing I need is to walk in on you going at it with some chick from your lab class.” 

He laughs a quick laugh, and you get lucky enough to see his eyes form into crescents before his features relax. “Don’t worry. I think I’d warn you before starting something in here.” 

“Better safe than sorry.” 

Sometimes you find yourself squinting and having quick, fleeting thoughts like maybe I should get my eyes checked, but you’re not oblivious to Lee Jeno’s looks, whose entire being seems to have been crafted by all the angels residing in the heavens themselves. All five feet and ten inches of his existence, from the little stray hair that sticks up from the rest to the bottoms of his feet; Jeno is a sight for sore eyes. 

He’s inescapable, too. Quite literally, since you live with him in something that would be flattered to be even called a shoebox of a home. 

The front door is simply the entrance to the kitchen— there is no dining room. The wall to your left side when you walk in is essentially the side of the staircase to your little loft, where your measly mattress sits on the floor. 

Beneath your loft is Jeno’s “bedroom”, where his mattress is placed directly on the floor as well. He’s got a curtain hung up to separate the joke of his room from the living room, which barely fits the couch that the two of you snagged off someone from Facebook Marketplace. 

So, yeah, your living situation is tough, except it only gets harder when the two of you share the most crucial and, possibly, most private space that anyone could ever have. 

The bathroom. 

Oh, it was tough on your heart. It still is, sometimes, though you’ve gotten better at pretending that you can’t see Jeno’s entire naked upper body when he steps out of the shower and you dash inside to finally relieve your bladder. 

It’s not ideal, you know, but it’s the best that your money (combined) can get. Before the start of your junior year, you had been in such a slump over a breakup with your ex that you slacked off hard when it came to apartment hunting. Prices had gone up tenfold by the time you started searching, and with every single day that passed, they only rose and rose, practically laughing in your face for your earlier incompetence. 

It wasn’t until you mentioned to your friend (coworker), Mark, that it had been absolute hell trying to find a place to stay. And bless his heart, that precious boy Mark Lee, as he lifted his hand to run it through his hair, only to accidentally knock off his uniform hat off his head as he exclaimed, I got you! 

That’s how you met Jeno. A friend of a coworker-turned-friend who had been sheepishly looking for a roomie to occupy that devilishly tiny space because even though it was smaller than a suburban backyard, the rent was still so high. 

Before you moved in, your automatic gameplan with any roommate was to interact as little as possible. Stay out of the kitchen if they’re in it. Watch movies in your room if the living room is occupied. Avoid being in the same space at all. Less contact with someone you barely knew meant less conflict, less tension, less worry. You just come in and out, talk about whose turn it is to buy the paper towels and stack the dishes, then move on with your life. 

Absolutely impossible with Jeno. Firstly, he’s a kind-hearted boy. Well, not a boy— he is a man. A boy-ish one with that smile he’s got, and the tenderness behind his words yet the playful venom he spits at you whenever he gets the chance. It’s hard to stay away when his personality is so well-balanced and welcoming that you can’t help but to interact. 

That, and it’s hard to avoid someone when you’re in the kitchen cleaning up and they have to walk right past you in order to leave. The first few weeks were awfully awkward; a constant cycle of oh, sorry, as the two of you tried to get past each other but couldn’t because of how close everything was together. Jeno gave up the act quickly and began to laugh softly at these little conflicts. It made you feel better, made you feel like you too could laugh at the silly reality of your situation. The apartment felt warmer. You’re unsure if it’s because it was tiny, and the heat was trapped, or because getting comfortable felt nice and it slowly transformed your place into your home. 

“Ah. Fruity Pebbles? Someone’s tending to their inner child.”

You huff, your back pressing against his as the two of you sort the new groceries into the little storage space that you have. “They were on sale. And what about it? I’m sure baby Lee enjoyed a bowl or two. Don’t mask your inner child’s excitement with learned patronization.” 

“Someone’s been reading lately,” He shoots back, and you can hear his stupid smile through his voice. “Big words for someone like you.” 

“You know what? You can forget about the pebbles. Get your own cardboard cereal.” 

“I don’t think it’ll fit in the pantry.” 

“Laundry day?”

Yes, laundry day. The most taxing and annoying chore of all. Laundry day, where you have to haul your drawstring bag of clothes down the stairs, out of the apartment and into the hallway, all the way down to the elevator. It’s a mission, it’s quite serious. 

Jeno stares up at you from the foot of the stairs, eyeing you with humor as he sees you lug around that giant sack of clothing. Oh, how helpful he is, only making you more self-aware as he stands with his fitted undershirt and notorious gray sweats. How lovely of him. 

You try coping with the close proximity by turning your attraction to him into annoyance, only your brain does this wicked thing where it gets so annoyed you cannot help but notice all the other handsome, kind, inviting things about him to get annoyed about.

You do not, by any means, have feelings for Jeno. He’s more like that hot friend that you are so sure is out of your league that you simply give up. Yes, he’s hot. Yes, you know nothing will come out of it. Yes, you are one hundred percent okay with that. It’s just difficult when he’s got a pair of eyes and you aren’t looking your best. Human nature to feel a little self conscious, you guess. 

“Let me come with,” He offers as you finally reach the bottom of the steps, mindlessly taking the lump of clothes and bringing it into his arms like it were the weight of a newborn baby. 

“Eh?”

“I will help you,” He starts again, this time speaking slowly to mock you. He’s trying to stifle a shit-eating grin from coming up on his face. He’s so unbearable that you lightly smack at his arm. 

You don’t understand why he would offer to tag along; the laundromat is one of the worst places to spend your free time at. The one you go to has a corner store right next to it, which is nice, but it feels boring again after you collect your snacks and choose a chair to sit in while you watch your clothes spin around and around. It’s even worse when the wall-mounted TVs play nothing but a loop of all the songs that reached top 10 on Billboard in 2013. 

But Jeno doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind a lot of things, you think, as you reach the building and hop out of his car. He’s got so much patience in his heart that you’re not sure what could ever bore him to death. 

The two of you pick your washers and start dumping your clothes in. It’s pretty quiet, save for the low rumbling of the other machines and Katy Perry’s Roar playing softly from the TVs. The bell on the entrance door jingles as an older lady walks in with a little boy who's got a candy bar in hand. 

When you finish loading the washer, you turn to Jeno swiftly. “Want anything from next door?”

He tilts his head, thinking. “Any sour candy.” 

While you head out on your mission to bag the snacks, Jeno picks a table by the window to sit at. He zones out, mindlessly watching the music video play out on the tv, but the sound is muffled in his ears. He's not sure if it's from his lack of focus or the overpowering sound of the machines running. 

He’s pulled out of it when the little boy speeds by. With the whole laundromat to himself, he weaves in and out of the rows like it's a maze, yet dutifully obeys his grandmother’s commands to pass him the little detergent tablets on the drying table. After he passes them to her, he starts running again. 

He’s about to pass Jeno again before he trips over his own shoelaces and tumbles down to the floor. Jeno automatically perks up, worry flashing in his eyes as he looks at the boy and then to his grandmother. Her eyes are busy on the laundry, sorting out the colors and the whites, and while Jeno is internally panicking about the wellbeing of the child, the little boy simply laughs it off and gets back up on his feet. He’s a little bashful due to having an audience, but after Jeno wordlessly sees that he’s okay, they both relax. 

The candy that he was holding had slid across the floor, so Jeno takes it upon himself to pick it up and give it back. He silently inspects it of any damage, earning a laugh from the little one as he hands it to him. 

The boy carefully unwraps it then breaks off a piece to give to Jeno. 

“Oh,” He starts immediately, taken aback. “No no, you have it.” 

The boy hums a short mm-mm while shaking his head, insisting that Jeno take it. 

With a weary smile, his big hand meets the small one in front of him and he gently takes the piece of chocolate, slow and careful in case the little boy has any doubts. 

As you’re walking back to the laundromat, you can see the entire interaction through the huge windows in the front. The look that’s on Jeno’s face as he interacts with the boy is enough to make your knees weak. It’s so soft, almost loving. 

When you step back inside, you try to be as discreet as possible, but the bell on the door alerts everyone that you’re there. The two boys look at you curiously before recognition crosses Jeno’s eyes. 

You slide him his bag of sour gummy worms, and without any hesitation, he tears the corner open and spills a few into his hand. He offers his open palm to the boy, who at this point, is giddy and glowing with this new established friendship. He happily takes the worms and nods his head very firmly, “Thank you!” 

The boy isn’t there for much longer as his grandmother finishes loading the clothing and calls him over so that they can get ready to leave. He stuffs all the worms into his mouth so that he can hold the box of detergent tablets for her. 

It isn’t long before your clothes are done in the wash so that you can dump them into the dryer. You and Jeno pass time by making fun of the music videos playing on the TVs and showing each other viral cat videos. 

If there is one thing you know about Jeno, it’s that he loves cats. He’s always making comments about them in passing, showing you cute videos, texting you that he’ll be home in 10, he’s just busy looking at the cats that are up for adoption. 

He wants one desperately, it’s just that… 

“You know there’s no room.” 

He sighs, leaning back into his chair and it squeaks. “We could, like, take it for walks to get the energy out. If anything, we can get an older, lazy cat. I think it would like the space between the window and the couch.” 

You laugh, turning your head to check the time left on the dryer. “The non-existent one?” 

He throws his head back and groans. Your eyes stay focused on the way his adam's apple bobs for a second too long. “Jeno, living in a space that small feels like a crime against myself sometimes. I would not want to put an animal through that type of pain. Hell, we’re the hamsters in the cage!” 

He chews on the inside of his cheek, giving you the stink eye, but it’s all in good fun. Deep down he knows that you’re right. 

The buzzer on the dryer goes off and catches the attention of both of you. You unload everything and dump it onto the folding table, a sigh slipping out of your mouth. 

Silently, Jeno offers to help you fold. You two split the pile of clothes in half and get to work, an awful Imagine Dragons song filling the silence. 

The entire situation isn’t quite ideal. The music is bad, the laundromat’s a little too cold, and you’d very much rather spend your time doing something else like ordering food and picking a thriller movie or challenging your roommate to a game of zombie COD. 

But that’s what life is all about, isn’t it? Doing mundane and annoying things with someone that you care about. Folding your laundry with Jeno right next to you, tackling the boring tasks in life with someone by your side. He didn’t have to come help you, but perhaps he offered because he didn’t want you to suffer by your pile of clothing alone. Yeah, that’s what it’s all about. 

It’s a little domestic. Okay, it’s painfully domestic. Everything about Jeno is- you live with him, for heaven’s sake. It’s an entire domestic fantasy playing out right before your eyes. 

At this point, you’re folding all your clothes on autopilot and you don’t even realize that the both of you are done with your piles. Jeno places every article neatly in your big drawstring bag, keeping it tidy before pulling at the string. He keeps it in his arms as he guides the both of you out to his car. 

“Let’s pick up some food, yeah? And search up some good thrillers in the car?”

Upsettingly domestic. 

When something, anything, occurs in Jeno’s life that requires him to tell another person so that he can get it off his chest, you are the first person to come to mind. How can he not think about you, when you’re the first face he sees in the morning? The one he makes dinner with, the one he discusses the houseplants with, the one he has to watch get ready in the bathroom, toothbrush in your hand as you sloppily call out to him to please remember to take out the trash. 

The two of you share a life together, you share practically everything together. Your living space, tidbits of your interactions with others, news that’s spreading around the city; your unmasked heart and soul shines through every single day. It’s so candid it could almost be romantic, yet it’s anything but that. 

Well, sometimes… 

No, Jeno doesn’t go there. But he can’t help but think… 

When something happens, you’re the person he wants to tell. The most basic and foundational characteristic of love. Sharing. It transcends the physical- of course, you do find yourselves splitting dinners and breaking the last cookie in half so that the both of you can enjoy. But it’s more than that, now. You and him break apart your own beings so that the other can understand, listen, and console. It’s love, he thinks. 

Platonic love, he quickly corrects. 

He’s been so busy thinking about it that he’s barely realized he’s been staring at the one piece of paint that’s chipping off the wall for too long. The sound of the shower water hitting the tub brings him back, and he looks to the closed bathroom door. 

He rushes to it, knuckles knocking on the wood. “Can I come in?” 

“Huh?” You practically holler. He laughs to himself, imagining your confused, scrunched up face. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Oh, yeah. Be quick because all the cold air gets in!” 

So he does just that, opening the door just a crack and trying to squeeze in his muscular form so that the air doesn’t rush in.

Jeno closes the door and leans against the bathroom counter, all the heat from the shower coddling him close. It could almost make him sleepy. 

“Taeyong wants to promote me.” 

“Huh?” You call, hands freezing in your hair as you wash it. “Are you serious? To what?” 

“Assistant Manager.” 

“Assistant Manager? Are you gonna take it?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just… I’m kind of nervous.” 

A beat of silence. He calls out your name. 

“Yeah, sorry. My face was in the water. Anyway, why? Scared an old geezer is gonna chew you out for the ‘new generation’s music’?’

He laughs. You’re lucky enough to hear it over the water. 

“It’s just a lot of responsibility, you know? Like, I’m so used to just doing what I’m told but now, it’s like, I gotta be in charge and tell the employees to get off their phones when they're on the clock. It’s betrayal, you know? How can I look Jisung in the eye and tell him that this is his first warning? I can’t do that.” 

You shut your eyes and try to stifle a laugh. It’s a laugh of endearment, though. Jeno cares so much about the people around him- even if it’s his younger coworker who works part time at the record store and barely even sees him more than three times a week. 

You shut the water off, voice clear. “Jeno. You worry a lot.” You pull back the shower curtain just a little to peek out, “Can you hand me my towel?”

He obeys, holding out the towel to the edge of the shower with his eyes closed. As soon as he feels it slip past his fingers and the sound of the shower curtain rings clink together, he opens his eyes. You’re still behind the curtain, drying off. 

“I think you should go for it. You’ll get more experience. Plus, from what you’ve told me, the record shop isn’t crazy unmanageable and unorganized. And,” You add, dragging out the ‘a’, “You’ll get a raise.” 

You’re right, he thinks, tilting his head and staring off. The shop is pretty calm, the customers are mostly older regulars and the occasional teenager in search of a Harry Styles vinyl. Plus, a raise would be nice. Really nice. 

“Did you tell Mark and Jaemin? What did they say?” 

Jeno hesitates. No, he hasn’t told them yet. You’re always the first person he wants to tell. 

“No,” He starts, honest. “I was gonna tell them right now, but I wanted to tell you first. I think I’ll follow your advice anyway.” 

Your heart stops in your chest. God, that made you feel so special. You’re at a loss for words before you feel the water drip from your hair down your back. 

“Good. Now step out ‘cuz I gotta dry off.” 

He smiles and follows your every word. He remembers not to let the cold air in, too. 

Jeno is your roommate. He is also your friend, a companion, a confidant. He’s nothing more, nothing less. 

People have eyes. They’re allowed to look. In fact, it is their god given right to let their eyes linger a little longer on someone as attractive as Lee Jeno. 

Why are you so upset? You can’t just shield him, carry a curtain around and charge a fee for people to look his way. He’s a free man. A free, good looking man. 

This party was a mistake. Watching Jeno be tonight's entertainer has planted a seed of bitterness and disappointment in your stomach that you have never felt. The bitterness is towards the situation- you’re not sure if you’re disappointed in yourself for feeling this way or for how the universe has laid out the cards. You long for something to happen. You wickedly hope for that girl to spill her drink on herself and be forced to walk away. You wickedly hope for Jeno to come to his senses and ask you if you wanna go back home and crush some random 12 year old in a shooter game. 

Come to his senses? What are you, his mentor? God forbid the man has fun for one night. He’s not even doing anything that bad. Just dancing with some girl you have never seen before, lifting his hand and caressing her jaw. He’s so unbelievable and so, so, so horrible when he gently tucks her hair behind her ear. You want to vomit. 

“You okay?” Jaemin asks, making you jump as he slips into the spot right next to you. He’s got a red cup in his hand and you hold back from snatching it and downing whatever the fuck is in it. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m kind of proud, actually. I’ve never seen Jeno interact with a woman before. Not like this, at least. I always thought he’d bring girls home every night, yet he never does.” 

Jaemin’s eyes flash with something like confusion, tenderness, sorrow. You don’t see it though, busy focused on the way Jeno leans into her and talks gently by her ear. She’s giggling and sliding her hand up his chest. You’re positive she can smell the cologne you helped him pick out earlier. 

“He’s just being courteous of you.” 

“I guess,” You say with a lazy shrug. Deep down you know you’re only trying to convince yourself that you see him and support him as a friend; strictly a friend. And you seem to play that part pretty well, because Jaemin does not question you at all. 

“I think I’m gonna head home,” You start, checking the time on your phone. Jaemin whips his head to look back at you, “Tapping out already?” 

“Yeah. I don’t really know anyone here, only came because Jeno invited me. Plus, he recently bought some new maps in COD, so, I think I wanna try those out.” 

“You sure? I think I could introduce you to someone, help you get that midterm stress off your mind.” 

You practically snort at his offer. He’s considerate, you think, but you cannot betray your own feelings. You’d be a fool to try and trick yourself into thinking a fling with some rando will make you feel better. 

Well… you’re still a fool. Yearning from afar, not doing anything about it. 

“Nah, I’m okay. Thank you, Jaem. Get home safe, okay?” 

He nods and the two of you part ways. 

You find yourself in an uber, shooting Jeno a text that says hey, i really wanna play COD so im heading home early. please be safe lol. :_)

You’re dropped off and you walk up to your apartment, trying your hardest not to wallow in your own feelings. You head straight to the bathroom to remove all your makeup and get ready for bed before pulling yourself up the stairs. 

Your mattress awaits you like it’s got its arms open. Cozy, warm, solid enough for you to cry into. 

Your home feels your pain. It’s like everything looks a little bit darker, the cream white walls seeming to be gray, the little light fixtures and hardware looking like frowny faces. The walls absorb all your feelings, reeking of longing and hope and something else that is usually paired with those two feelings. Something so captivating and large, dark and light, something so scary yet you just have to have faith in it. Something that you would rather die than confess to yourself. 

So it sits, pent up in the walls of your home. It haunts you. This stupid apartment haunts you, traces of the life you live with Jeno everywhere. You can’t hide. You can’t run to the other side of the hallway and lock yourself in the room in the very back- it’s not there. Your life and your feelings are right in front of your face, everywhere you turn, everything you touch. It stings, it burns, and god, this home will kill you. Your close and unavoidable proximity with Jeno will kill you. 

You’re so busy moping that you almost miss the sound of the door opening. It’s quiet, slow, and you bet to yourself that Jeno is trying his hardest to be kind, to not wake you up. 

You’re scared that you’ll hear the giggle of the girl, but it never comes. Just Jeno making his way around the shoebox, using the flashlight on his phone to light the way instead of switching the lights on so that he doesn’t disturb you. Curse that stupid boy. 

Jeno shuts the door to the bathroom and turns on the shower. The sound is so calming that it lulls you to sleep. 

He lets the warm water caress at his back, lets it help him relax. He replays every single thing that happened at the party. 

He regrets leaving you alone. In the back of his mind, he knew Mark and Jaemin would take good care of you, but shouldn’t he be doing that? Taking care of you. 

He’s not obligated to, of course, and he knows that if he ever mentioned that to you, you’d snicker in his face and tell him to shuddup and let loose. But he can’t. He tried and didn’t even get that far. 

Jeno got into the bedroom and onto the bed with that girl, his body slowly pushing against hers so that she could lay down. The top few buttons of his black shirt were already popped open and his mind was so foggy he almost didn’t hear his phone buzzing in his pocket. 

He felt bad, but he knew he would’ve hated himself even more if he ignored it, so he had pulled back and checked the screen. In his heart, he knew it was you. 

Luckily, you hadn’t seemed upset, but it was like guilt took him hostage as he realized you left the party without him. You got home without him, and you spent the night alone. Jeno suddenly felt so upset and so… gross. Grossed out with himself. He tossed you to the side just like that. And for what? A fling that wouldn’t fulfill his heart like you do? Yeah, no. 

“I’m sorry,” He starts, looking from his screen to the girl’s face. She’s got a look that tells him she already knows what's coming. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah,” He says automatically, then falls quiet for a beat. “Well, kind of. I have to go.” 

“It's okay,” She says gently, and it hurts even more because she's genuinely nice about it. “Get home safely. I hope everything’s alright.”

So now Jeno’s home but he’s a little too late. You’re already tucked away in bed and he wishes he would've just come back with you, play a few games and then crash. It's odd not to hear you tell him goodnight; it's become like a ritual between you two. Some nights the two of you stick together like packed sardines in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and poking fun at one another with a quiet and subtle joy in your hearts. 

Jeno’s finishes showering by the time he’s done thinking over all the details. He dries off fast, feeling slightly uncomfortable and alone. Every space in the apartment is so silent that it’s unnerving. 

Before Jeno slips past the curtain to get to his bed, he stands at the foot of the stairs, making out the shape of your sleeping form, face smushed directly in your pillow. The sight is so you that he cannot help but chuckle quietly to himself. 

He sees you there, at the top of the stairs, and for a second it feels like you're waiting for him there. Patient and resting as he navigates through how he feels before making his descent upwards. 

Quickly, he realizes he's too sleepy to be plaguing himself with these thoughts. Jeno pulls back the curtain and sinks into his bed, subconsciously falling in a position that would fit against your body so perfectly if the two of you shared a sleeping space. You feel so close and so far from him. It's the last thing he thinks about before he falls asleep. 

How do you tell someone that you want them without actually telling them? 

Your relationship with Jeno is built on something so fragile that he’s afraid to mess up, trip and let the glass shatter. You’re friends– real close friends, if he thinks about it. You share a home together that’s small enough to make him think that it certainly violates a number of human rights. You cannot go a day without seeing or speaking to each other. 

It's so sour and it's so, so sweet. Spending everyday together, reading each other, communicating in small ways that mean the most– his heart swells and gets clogged in his throat. He’s so close to you it's like your fingertips are brushing against his as you sit on opposite sides of the couch. And, if all goes well, he could unabashedly take your hand in his and spread kisses on the back of it. Even better, he could pull you right into his lap and smush at your face, kiss you there too. So many possibilities… 

Along with those possibilities comes the ones that are on the other end of the scale. He could open up (more than he already has) about his feelings and unintentionally make you uncomfortable. Oh, he would hate himself if you felt uncomfortable in your own home. Then it would really be bad, because you'd both need time and space but you practically share a goddamn bunk bed and a kitchen that feels like a toddler’s first real-life toy. It pains him more to think that you'd be unhappy than how he would feel to be rejected. 

Instead, Jeno’s feelings manifest into actions and touch. When you get up from putting on your shoes and your hair's a little astray, he’ll reach over and fix it for you, keeping his touch light and gentle. He insists on helping you button up your coats and tying a bow on the back of your dresses. When he sees that you’re especially tired, he’ll wash all the dishes even though it was your turn. Sometimes, when the apartment feels especially warm and the lighting is cozy and you feel so lethargic yet blissfully happy, you’ll tell him about your day with his thumb caressing your cheek. And sometimes, you’ll lean into the palm of his hand and he’ll keep you still. 

It’s not until the day where he finds you knocked out on the couch that you slip up. He had come home late from work, the shop buzzing with people looking for a Christmas gift for that one vinyl collector of a friend. He had told you he’d be late, but you thought you’d still have enough energy to stay up and wait for him so that the two of you could eat dinner and call it a night. 

Unfortunately, you did not have the energy. Finals had been consuming your life and now that it was finally over, you ended up knocking out on the couch like a baby, leaving the lights on and everything. Jeno smiled softly at your sleeping form, a familiar type of warmth crawling into his heart and nestling inside it. He quietly slipped off his shoes and made his way straight toward you, calling your name softly as a test. 

You didn’t wake at all. You were gone. 

It kind of makes him laugh; a laugh of adoration, not amusement. It’s one of those things that’s a little funny in its own way. 

It happens, he supposes, when your heart and life is so full of love that it has to escape somehow. In touch, in kisses, in laughter. 

For you, it escapes loud and clear- verbally. 

After Jeno decides to take a risk and lift you into his arms, you automatically curl into him, trusting him even in the depths of your sleep. He’s slow to walk up the stairs, careful to not let your head hit the wall as he makes his way upward. 

And it’s when he lays you down on your mattress tenderly, hands lightly pushing away all the hairs that fell onto your face, that you stir just a little bit. 

“Goodnight,” He whispers to you, using his body to block out the light he hadn’t turned off. A dopey little smile creeps onto your face. You’re euphorically sleepy, the feeling of slipping in and out of it feels so good. 

“Thank you,” You rasp a little, turning over. “Love you.”

Then you’re gone again, and Jeno is frozen in place at the top of the stairs, shoulders stiffening as the words swirl around in his head. 

Firstly, he’s upset he didn’t get to say it back. But the disappointment washes away quickly and he’s overcome with joy, practically buzzing as he descends down the steps to shut off all the lights and get ready for bed. He’s got a stupid smile on his face that he can’t even put away as he brushes his teeth, and if any medical professional were to see him right now, he’s surely be diagnosed with lovesickness. 

He whimsies all the way to his room, pulling back the curtain and plopping down on his bed like it’s a cloud and he’s in heaven. He falls asleep thinking of all the ways to say I love you. 

Winter break is lovely. It’s an abundance of warm drinks, wooly socks, sleeping in, and having an excuse to wear corny pajama sets. Your heart is at ease and the cold weather feels so nice when it bites at your cheeks- especially when you feel yourself grow a little warm around Jeno. 

For Jeno, it’s even better because there are a plethora of Christmas parties. 

And, usually, there’s mistletoe. 

“Alright, don’t get too excited. Close your eyes!” 

He obeys, shutting them and even bringing up his hands in front of his face so that you don’t think he’s pulling any tricks. 

You’ve got him sitting on the couch in anticipation as you dig through your shopping bags to find what’s so important. After a few moments of rustling and humming under your breath, he hears you sigh in relief. 

You hold up two sweaters in front of you, side to side. One is clearly bigger than the other. They’re thrifted and it’s very obvious that they were previously owned by elderly people; maybe they scream vintage a little too much, earth toned with eye-catching patterns like stripes and triangles running across the entire sweater. They’re only a little bit outdated, but painfully cute, and perfect for the season. 

“Okay. Open!” 

Jeno lays his eyes upon the sweaters and immediately breaks out into a smile, eyes forming crescents. Really, he doesn’t even look at them for long. His gaze lands directly on you. 

“You like ‘em?” 

“Very much,” He affirms, with his eyes still set on you. He’s not really talking about the sweaters. 

“Good! We’re wearing them at Hyuck’s party this weekend.” 

So the two of you wear the matching sweaters to Donghyuck’s party. When the both of you step in, Jaemin automatically makes a face at Jeno, an expression that silently screams Finally? but Jeno shakes his head. He doesn’t look solemn, though. In fact, his eyes are hopeful and bright as he nods his head at everything you say. 

He doesn’t budge from your side, either. 

(He wants everyone to see that you’re matching). 

It pays off because Renjun tells you both that you look like an elderly couple, to which he quickly corrects himself and says ‘duo’ instead. It’s kind of embarrassing with the way that he rushes off after, face a little red. You’re not sure if it’s because of the fact that he’s tipsy or because he’s worried he’s crossed a boundary. If anything, his comment makes you have to hold back a smile, and from the corner of your eye, you see Jeno biting at his cheek too. 

Renjun’s flushed cheeks inspire you. “You want anything to drink?” 

Jeno contemplates for a second before shaking his head, “Nah. I’ll drive us back home.” 

But he follows you to the kitchen anyways, where it’s quieter because everyone is in the living room talking over Jingle Bell Rock. You swear you can hear Donghyuck break into laughter at some point; you can already envision his happy little glowing face nuzzling up to Mark. 

Jeno leans against the doorway to the kitchen, fingers playing with the edges of his sweater as he observes you moving around to get yourself a drink. He’s thinking about a hundred things at once, and somehow, you both calm and excite him. 

You approach him, steadily holding your glass so that nothing sloshes over and spills. “You wanna try? Just a sip.”

He nods and takes it from your hand, bringing it up to his lips for a second before he evaluates the taste. You wait expectantly, and then Jeno gives you a solid nod before looking back over his shoulder and extending his arm to place your glass on the counter. When he turns back around, his hand comes up to gently rest on your arm. He very, very carefully pulls you closer. It’s gentle, slow, and so subtle you almost don’t even realize the proximity between you two getting smaller and smaller by the centimeter. “It’s pretty good.” 

“Just pretty good?” 

“Yeah,” He replies, tone so soft and far away that you immediately realize he doesn’t really care about the drink all that much. And then you realize that he’s got these beseeching love-me eyes that make your heart twist in such a pleasant way that you know you can’t escape. 

You can’t go back to how it was before. You’ll never be your old self, coexisting with Jeno in your tiny home with no care or feeling in the world towards him. You can’t go back to the days of trying to sneak past him, trying to go through the days without making eye contact and conversation. You won’t even be able to go back to the days where you merely saw him as a friend, a casual buddy that you’re glad you have a good dynamic with because you happen to share a home together. You can’t ignore how you feel, what you feel. It’s so heavy and it lingers in the air between you two now. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Look,” He nearly whispers, gesturing towards the ceiling with his chin. 

Mistletoe hangs at the doorway, green and white with a red ribbon adorning the stems. It’s so predictable and awful and overall so corny that you can’t help but laugh. Your tongue pokes at your cheek as your eyes trail from the plant back down to Jeno, who looks at you expectantly. He’s mindful enough to leave enough space for you to make a getaway if you want to. 

“Well,” You start, though it sounds more like a question, prompting Jeno to lean into you. 

He dips down and slots his lips against yours, pulling a wanton sigh out from you. You’re quick to have your hands on him, fingers tightening around the fabric of his sweater and you swear you can feel him smiling within the kiss. It’s almost enough to make you pull back so you can see the look on his face, but he holds you in place, fingers softly trailing through your hair. He hums contently, the deep sound of it making the tips of your ears warm. 

Your hands travel, sliding up his chest, and the two of you break apart before you end up devouring one another at the doorway of Donghyuck’s kitchen. 

Jeno smiles down at you as I’ll Be Home For Christmas starts playing. 

You’re a little nervous, the fear that comes with love pestering you at the back of your mind. You’re scared this’ll be a big unspeakable thing, a thing you’ll have to avoid in the house with Jeno. A thing that’ll never happen again, a thing to blame on the tiny sip of the drink he had and the consequences of spotting mistletoe. 

But Jeno’s eyes ask you to trust him, that he wants this just as much as you do. Perhaps this can be a reoccurring thing, except you don’t need mistletoe or drinks. You can do this in the comfort of your own home, when he gets home from work, after you both finish brushing your teeth, when you’re both making breakfast, or maybe in bed right after you wake up. 

You dive in again, hands sliding farther up till your fingers tousle through his hair, thumbs brushing against his ears. It tickles him a little, body reacting and caving into you a bit more, his hands cupping your cheeks. You tip your head back just the slightest and he follows, looming over you. He looms over you in a way that is so warm and loving and consuming - I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. 

Yes, he’s here. Holding you tenderly, your bodies shaped so nicely against one another at last. You’re no longer sitting on opposite ends of the couch, looking at each other from the top and bottom of the stairs, eyes lingering as soon as someone turns away. He’s touching you, and this time you don’t have to shy away or cough and he doesn’t have to play it off as a mistake, a mindless brush of skin that doesn’t mean anything. No, it means everything now. 

[mortimerc]

𝔄 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔫.

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 5

Male - GN Reader x Sebastian Solace

TW : blo0d, t0rture, g0re, obsessive behaviour,

(Note: This might be the last chapter but I might write one last chapter that will be a smut so be warned. I will only write it if you guys want me to. Comment on this post if you want to.)

* ‧̍ ˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍ * 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍

The day has come.

Your experiment.

You and Sebastian had been working on an escape plan to get out of this hell. You guys have been planning on this ever since you guys heard of a company called ‘Urbanshade’, the company that was experimenting on Sebastian, transporting him to the ‘Hadal Blacksite’.

The day of the transportation was the same day as you are going to be experimented. And of course, once again you’ll be separated from him again.

Now you and Sebastian are holding each other in your cell, him not wanting you to go, not wanting you to be hurt the same way as he did.

“I don’t want you to go..”

“I have to, and you also need to be ready. Remember our plan?”

“Of course,, but still-“ Sebastian was cut off by a guard opening the cell door, interrupting them. As they walk in, suddenly they forcefully grabs your wrist.

“Hey- what are you?-“

“Let them go!” Sebastian protests

All efforts were in vain as you were dragged out, leaving Sebastian alone in silence soon met with the sound of footsteps that Sebastian knows too well. It was the scientist. His thoughts were interrupted by the cell door opening once again.

“Hello there, mr. Solace.”

Sebastian stays silent and not looking at the scientist.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here. Hope you pack up whatever you need because we’re going now.” He said while signing the guards behind him to cuff Sebastian.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As Sebastian was slithering alongside the guards, he covers his ears, not wanting to hear the screams that emitted from you, echoing throughout the hallways.

“God..” hot tears trickle down his face.

“You seem to be very close with HR-P (High Rank Prisoner), Z-X. We also call them ‘The Perdition’, and we’re almost done with their document, so tell me more about it.” The scientist questions

“I’m not telling you shit-!”

“Hahah, you’re so easy to rile up. I’ve already know what’s between you two. You two are like two pieces in a pod.”

“Shut up,,”

“Well we’re here. Get in.”

A submarine soon rises to the surface of the water, door opening. The guards pushing Sebastian in.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As they arrived to the blacksite, they checked the surroundings before exiting the submarine. Sebastian takes that chance to hit the guards, attacking and killing most of them while the scientist runs away in cowardice.

The scientist ran into a lab room and called for a lock down, and this is when all it began. Sebastian releasing all of the experiments and marine discoveries found in the blacksite.

Soon, Sebastian heard from one of the guards before killing him, “EXR-P will come here to retrieve the crystal soon, I’ll prepare everything.”

The crystal? Sebastian did research on the crystal and finds out that it is something that provides power to this place. To a normal human being, that might be fine, but Sebastian is not a normal human being anymore. He’s a creature. A monster. He had to stay here. It’s the only place he can hide away.

Before coming to the blacksite, you and Sebastian planned on meeting here, in his makeshift shop. But you’re not here, not yet. Maybe in a few days?

All Sebastian can do is just wait.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As the prisoners leaves his shop, Sebastian is left alone in silence, loneliness that he wished you would fill.

But it’s been years. Years since he has seen you. But you promised. You always keep your promises.

His thoughts were soon interrupted when the prisoners from earlier ran into his shop, panting, panicking and shaking.

“Heh what did you do this time? Run into pandemonium? Hmph, incompetent as always.” Sebastian snarked

“N-n-no n-no, not that thing. It was something else.” They said frantically

“Just get to it.”

“Wh-when we encountered it, I think they was mumbling something about being ‘The Perdition’?”

Sebastian’s face turns pale.

“Perdition? Can you tell me what do they look like?”

“Uhm, I can’t tell. I think I saw a shark tail., I-I- think wings?? And their face covered in blood. Long limbs for sure. I can’t remember more, I was too scared”

They both sat in silence until Sebastian broke it

“… I think it’s safe now, get out.”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

As Sebastian roams the hall, he soon smells the stench of blood. Th smell of blood reeks from the other side of that door.

When he opens the door, his eyes landed on horror that people can’t comprehend. The prisoner from earlier dangling on the ceiling, caught up by their guts.

His eyes landed on a person, facing away from him, sitting on an office chair. Their frame looks like he had a shark tail, elongated limbs, ESCA that belonged to an angler fish, and the wings coming from their head making them look like an angelic being.

It all fits the prisoners description.

“We meet again, Sebastian.”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

You find yourself embracing Sebastian in your arms, you both missing each other. A long awaited moment, reunion that you both wished for.

“You came back..” Sebastian says with a content tone in his voice.

“I always keep my promises.”

“Why did it take you so long? What happened?”

“It was not easy for me to get here. With the lockdown, I still had to recover from my surgical experiment.”

Sebastian hugs you tighter, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, almost making a purring sound. Being comfortable in your lap “I miss you..” he said while lifting his head, looking into your eyes

“I miss you too..”

You two sit there in silence, and slowly but surely, you both close the gap. After a long and passionate kiss, you both pulls away, panting.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.. for a long time..”

“I love you, Seb..” you said while pressing your forehead against Sebastian’s.

“I love you too, [Nickname]…”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦

To be continued..?

[squirrelsqwirow]

HC: lovesick!muzan x fem!demonreader

a/n: I love the idea of a powerful, intimidating man being head-over-heels for his wife cw: mentions of death, cannon setting, slight yandere, suggestive themes, odd use of blood cause demons, ooc a bit????

lovesick!muzan who rules as the demon king, feared by both demons and humans alike, a murderer of thousands, a egocentric psychopath who believes himself to be a god walking earth, a heartless, cold man who cares not for others and only for his self-gain

lovesick!muzan who would only kneel for his beautiful wife - the demon queen

lovesick!muzan who ensures that your existence is kept a lethal rumour - lower demons tremble when they utter the title 'demon queen' for they fear muzan will hear them - and he does

lovesick!muzan who's eyes sharpen when one of his pathetic creations dares speak of you, and is by their side within a blink, hand dug deep into their stomach, fingers wrapped around the spine and with one harsh pull, they are left motionless as the sun peaks over the buildings

lovesick!muzan who confirms your existence with his upper moons by having you join his side at his last meeting over one-hundred years ago - they hadn't seen you since

within the stomach of the infinity castle, atop a risen platform you lay comfortably with your head on your husbands lap. muzan looked down with disgust at his supposed upper moons - the most powerful products of his unwavering hatred, yet in that moment all he felt with disappointment. his hand was gentle as it ran across your jewelled hair, careful to not catch on the golden accessories. "they're pathetic," you had said. muzan hummed as you continued: "loyal but incompetent." "I give them power and a simple request in return," he stroked your cheek and your eyes closed. "Yet they have nothing to show for it." muzan's voice sharpened and he narrowed his eyes as all but one upper moon looked displeased. "imperfection isn't acceptable."

lovesick!muzan who allows you and only you to keep him company in his lab - he prefers to work in silence, but if you take an interest in his love for chemistry he will answer every question with a smile so small only you can see it

lovesick!muzan who believes his wife to be the most intelligent individual he's ever met - calm, cunning, vicious, elegant with a strong desire for destruction and power - he'd never think so highly of anyone else

lovesick!muzan who stares at his wife constantly - any lesser being would assume him to be glaring, but you've known him long enough to see the love in his stare - he doesn't like being caught staring, and most times isn't, but he lets his guard down around you

lovesick!muzan who will give you his blood without hesitation, for you are the demon queen and therefore deserving of all this power

muzan swiftly sliced the pad of his index finger with the sharp nail of his thumb. he delicately took your face in his hands and your mouth fell open, tongue resting against your lower, red lip. he smiled and slowly placed his index on the base of your tongue and dragged it to the tip - silk-like red trailing his finger. it was like iron in your mouth, a metallic tang as you swallowed. muzan kissed you next, soft and chaste with his lips flush against your own. as he pulled away, he could feel the thickness of your red lipstick against his lips, and his cunning suspicion was confirmed as you smiled largely.

lovesick!muzan who creates a unique deep red lipstick for only you, specially crafted in his lab and injected with his blood - it was vivid against your complexation, often attracting the attention of many human women who would approach you asking for the store you purchased it from

lovesick!muzan who swells with pride when you tell them it's custom made by your intelligent husband

lovesick!muzan who doesn't sleep very often - nor do you, but when you lie down for a nap every decade or two, he will only protest once before joining you under the covers

lovesick!muzan who sleeps on his back with your arm slung over his chest and your face buried in the crook of his neck - he's not one to fall asleep fast, but he stays and rubs small circles into your shoulder as you sleep peacefully

lovesick!muzan who will admire you as you sleep, tracing your facial features and planting small pecks to your forehead - one of the very few times he'll smile kindly

lovesick!muzan who ventures into the human world with you on his arm, visiting the wealthiest parts of Japan and purchasing you anything you stare too long at - a foreign gold necklace, a luxurious kimono - anything, ask him for anything and it's yours

lovesick!muzan who knows you long to travel the world, but it is too much of a risk with sunlight still damning him to the shadows - but he gives you his word, that once he has conquered the sun and given you the same ability will he give you the world

lovesick!muzan who would rip cities apart and massacre villages if it brought a smile to that lovely face - he would approach you when it's done, drenched in blood yet not a hair out of place

he approached with arrogance in his step, pressed black suit velvet under the moons light. he stop before you and kneeled. his deep voice drawled: "have I pleased you, my love?" his eyes - a sharp red like the splatters of blood against his pale face - looked up at you expectantly. muzan knew you were, but oh how he loved to hear it. you smiled: "I'm beyond pleased, such a wonderful sight." as he rose you cupped his cheek and caressed the skin beneath his eye. "you always know how to make me happy."

lovesick!muzan who would tear any man or woman apart for staring at you with anything akin to lust or want - you are no longer phased by this habit of his

lovesick!muzan who drowns you in praise and whispers of love, paired with chaste kisses to your hands and cheeks

lovesick!muzan who ensures that his beloved wife lives a life of luxury and class, never needing to lift a finger, never needing to raise her voice, never needing to demand anything twice because it is done instantly

lovesick!muzan who bathes you in the finest blood - he'll sit on the edge of the large tub and read to you one of his many favourite poems or stories

you sat against the tub and leaned your head against the rest, a smile on your face. your knees poked from the red liquid, droplets running down the smooth skin of your thighs. his words were soft and deep as he recited a poem only a mind like his could understand. they lulled you to a peaceful mood, not quite asleep, but in a conscious state where all you could hear were your husbands words, and all you could feel was his hand linked with yours.

lovesick!muzan who initially refused to involve you in his work, but upon your constant pestering he finally admitted to his goal - the search for the blue spider lilly

lovesick!muzan who appreciated your efforts to finding this flower for him - you created a garden in a place between space and time, a dimension only the powerful could enter, and planted every seed you got your hands on in hopes that one day the blue flower would sprout from the ground

lovesick!muzan who adores your attempts to help him and loves visiting your garden when he is stressed - although he isn't confident this is the best way to find this flower, he appreciates the effort and comes to find peace within the garden

lovesick!muzan who, during upper moon meetings, will compare his demons to you

"in the past month my wife has made far more progress in obtaining the blue spider lilly than any of you have in the last century," muzan sneered and looked down upon his most powerful creations. such a waste of blood they turned out to be - perhaps he should consider replacements. "please, my lord! please forgive us!" hantengu cried on his hands and knees. "I do not want excuses," muzan said with a narrowed glare. he overlooked all his upper moons and felt disgust in the pit of his stomach at how far they had fallen. centuries they had lived, thousands they has slaughtered and consumed without mercy, hundreds they tortured for entertainment, yet they fall short when finding a flower. how dishonorable, how frustrating, how insulting to his and his wife's name. "I want results."

lovesick!muzan who met you when he was human, the beautiful, kind and intelligent daughter of his doctor, and never cared for you in the beginning, but as you appeared more and more, he grew to enjoy your company

lovesick!muzan who fell in love and so desperately wanted to give you the life you deserved, but from the confines on his bed it seemed impossible

lovesick!muzan who grew bitter and angry at the thought that one day soon he would die and you would take another man - he swore to you that if he lived he would give you everything you deserved

lovesick!muzan who becomes a demon thanks to your fathers innovation, and quickly turns you too, making work of his promise in giving you everything you deserve - power, wealth, loyal servants, a kingdom and a title

lovesick!muzan who never would have fallen in love with you had you not been there since the very beginning, but is so thankful you were because he cannot bare to think how empty and lonely his life would be without you

[al-gay-tor]

A comprehensive guide to Raptordyne

(This is what my fucking life is I guess)

With a show as incoherently written as Dinosquad there tends to be a lot of guesswork and inconsistent information left for the fans to work with. But not anymore folks! I have scoured the entire show to bring you a comprehensive breakdown of Raptordyne, what it does, who works there, and how it’s built. Let’s get started.

What does Raptordyne do?

The show seems to push the idea that Raptordyne is pretty much exclusively built as a factory for global warming and ooze monsters but that obviously can’t be the only thing happening here.

in the first episode Rodger states that Raptordyne is a biogenetics company and phrase that, like most things in this show, is a vague mush of science-y sounding words. Then in the episode Easy Riders and Raging Dinos we see that Raptordyne owns an animal feed company.

With that in mind it seems safe to assume that Raptordyne is in the agricultural industry more specifically designing GMOs and related products.

Who works there?

Now that we know what Raptordyne does when it’s not making horrible mutants, let’s see who works there. I’m going to go in order from most relevant to least relevant.

Victor Veloci

The main guy, the clown that runs this circus, our leading man, the CEO of Raptordyne. Despite seeing this guy every episode we don’t really get to see him actually doing his human job, we do however know that he spends a lot of time on charity work, thanks to the first episode and the episode Perseverance.

Lieutenant Alpha

A surprisingly unknown character despite showing up in two episodes with speaking scenes the Lieutenant is shown to be in charge of most of the masked grunt force at Raptordyne. Though in his two episodes, Who let the dogs out and Scents and Scents Abilities he is shown to be disliked by Veloci and doesn’t seem aware of the true purpose of Veloci’s work.

Peter

Anyone who knows me also know that this guy is my personal favorite character of all time, despite only showing up in the first episode for 20 seconds. Contrary to popular belief Peter is not actually Veloci’s assistant, his real work lies in the engineering department. He developed nanobots that are supposedly used in primordial ooze and potentially built the robot seen in the episode Wannabe or the hologram dinosaur in Who let the dog out. Peter was injected with primordial ooze however the outcome of that experiment was never seen.

Gregor, Mina, and Robert

I would like to thank the Dinosquad discord server for helping me name these scientists, if you haven’t joined it yet go check it out. These three scientists appear in the background of a few episodes though are never named or given speaking roles. From left to right on the second picture we have Robert, Gregor, and Mina. It is implied in the episode Attack of the Brainasuarus that Veloci works directly with these three to develop prototype ooze.

The twins

These two only appear in the episode Pet Peeve and are the masked grunts working under Veloci for the day. I wanted to point them out not only because they are the only grunts seen without their uniforms but they are also significantly more incompetent than any other grunts seen in the show, thus designating them as their own significant characters.

Workplace Environment

With all our players in place let’s talk about Raptordyne itself. The underground lab seems to be made of one continuous room situated in a cave system underneath the main building. Let’s break it down.

The Entrance

Pictured above is the left end of the cave lab. It’s primarily just Veloci’s ominous skull chair and the entrance elevator (not pictured). This is the area we see the most in the show. What’s interesting about this area is the room over looking the lab just past Veloci’s chair, and the rail tracks cutting through the center of the room, but more on those later.

The Lab

Pretty self explanatory, just across the rail track is the lab where the ooze and mutants are made. The mutants shown in the test tubes are not used in the show but their humanoid shape does imply some sort of human experimentation.

The airlock

On the right side of the lab there is this specialized containment zone. As seen in the episode One Precent Inspiration this area is used for the temporary containment of live specimens and also has an airlock at the top of the containment unit for the release of airborne specimens.

The Greenhouse

Seen only once in the episode Growth Potential this room is what I believe to be in that raised portion of the lab seen in the entrance. This area of the lab is used exclusively for the production and study of mutant plants, a concept that is severely underutilized in the show.

Veloci’s Office

Realized i forgot this originally whoops. Being the influential man he is Veloci obviously needs an office that isn’t in a secret dinosaur lair. This is one spacious office in what looks like the top of the Raptordyne building.

The warehouse

Technically this isn’t a part of the underground lab, nor is it a single building in my opinion. Featured in Scents and Scents abilities we see what is one of possibly many warehouse outposts. Complete with their own security systems and staff.

In the episode it is featured in the place seems to be controlled exclusively by the Lieutenant and masked grunts. So why is this relevant? I propose that the railway seen in the main lab is actually a transit system between the main lab and a network of these outpost facilities.

Conclusion

Go nuts nerds

[therobotmonster]

Why the Murder-Bear Restaurant Keeps Re-Opening

A speculative Fic.

"Are you concussed?"

Rich looked up from his laptop. "Not that I'm aware."

"Forty-five million!" Stan huffed. "I go to a conference for one weekend and you invest us forty-five million into a murdered kid restaurant!!?"

"No, I sank forty-five million into THE murdered kid restaurant."

"That is not the point and you know it. To pay out the company has to exist. Half the locations are very famously burned to the ground."

"It's called venture capital not the sure thing express." Rich was smirking the way he did when he was going to be unbearably right. "Only this time it might well be the latter."

"What do you mean? It's a D-list nostalgia brand at best, without the murders and kidnappings and ghosts that are probably gas leaks driving night watchmen to acts of arson."

"No, you've got it all wrong. It's not a restaurant and its not an IP brand. Those are the loss leaders." Rich turned the laptop around. On the screen was a diagram of a robotic skeleton inside a vague mascot-character shape. "It's the most advanced robotics research lab in the United States, and all of it directed to one goal."

"Ooo! I know this one!" Now it was Stan's turn to be smug. "Pulverizing little Billy and Suzie between hydraulic jaws! No, wait, don't tell me-"

"Very mat-"

"-brand new innovations in reducing the size of the workforce. Literally. By having them compacted by a jukebox that has grown-ass-man-crushing-strength for some reason."

"That's the point. Why give the robot band the ability to walk around? Why make them strong enough to do more than lift a prop guitar?"

"Man's hubris?"

"No. I've looked over the patents, the whole sales document bundle... they were beta testing having them work as wait staff. They could recognize and converse with customers, heck, if these documents are even mostly exaggerated they were halfway to getting them to cook the damn pizza."

"Robot labor." Stan whispered. The whole picture came into focus. "Beta tested in the most chaotic, emotionally tumultuous environment possible, with the least cooperative customer base imaginable."

"If the dancing bear can handle a six year old's birthday party, it can handle the returns desk at the Lady Foot Locker. Exactly." Rich forced a solemn expression on his face. "While the alleged tragedies around the company are crushing-"

"Phrasing"

"-saddening. It would be an even greater tragedy if that work resumed with someone other than us reaping the rewards." Rich's smile returned. "Thus my executive decision."

"If we get haunted, I'm blaming you."

--

"What do you mean the ghosts are real?"

"Yeah, of all the bullshit in the papers, that part tracks. Go figure."

"Rich, you know what I mean."

"Alright, well, apparently the previous owners' idea of a coverup was to blab everything and let the ridiculous story debunk itself." Rich was looking over reams of blueprints. Old fashioned, drawn-on-paper blueprints for machines more advanced than MIT's best efforts. "And part of the story that was true was the ghosts."

"How-" Stan paused, pushing down the first phrasing that came to mind. "-do you even know that?"

"Well, we had the tech boys build a copy of one of the robots. Same firmware, same materials, better workmanship. But the performance was never there. Beat up vintage version responds more naturally, can navigate better, is stronger."

"What, some kind of learning algowhatis?"

"No. We went through the whole inventory from all the surviving locations. Most of the robots are 'low performers', even ones that were in use longer than the ones we have here."

"Do not tell me those are the murderbots."

Stan gave a mock-sheepish shrug.

"How are they not in an evidence locker someplace?!"

"I can only assume incompetence or graft." Stan replied. "But the majority, but not all, of the robots that are high performers are from those locations."

"So your theory is that they're what, possessed?"

"Haunted, possessed, what's the difference. We know what the missing piece is."

"You son of a bitch."

"What?"

"That's why you insisted we build the new prototype store on the ruins of the old one. You didn't just build it on top of the world's only haunted murder-robot graveyard, you did it on purpose!"

"The old man didn't just invent the most advanced robot this side of Star Wars, he may have made the world's only functioning ghost trap." Stan wasn't joking. His smile wasn't the normal sarcastic one he wore day in and day out. It was a hungry smile. "So yes, for the sake of ROI, I put our new animatronic manufacturing facility and demo store on top of a valuable natural resource."

"Dead people."

"We're only 30% certain its actual souls and not some kind of psychic imprint or ectoplasmic residue."

"You made those terms up."

"Maybe, who can say? Regardless. We know our robots are missing a part, that part appears to be a ghost, whatever that means. We pack the place to the gills with robots, keep using the pure-AI versions for now, and if any units get suddenly competent we retrace its steps to find out when the blue fairy does her thing."

"And then what? We harvest the souls of the dead and make them work at the mall?"

"Hey, idle souls crush night watchmen like juice boxes. It's way better if they've got gainful employment rather than just, wandering around murdering people."

"Gainful employment? We're going to pay the robots?"

"Oh no, I mean gainful for us. And the best part, is we're the only ones who will know the secret sauce. Let our patents expire, everyone else's robots will be glorified speak-and-spells."

"While ours will be animated by grandpa's wayward essence?"

"Hey, if he didn't want to work at the Panda Express he should have gone to heaven."

[suzukiblu]

den mother Tony from "oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me" AU excerpt:

“What?” Tony says in alarm, jerking his head up from the repulsor he was in the middle of fine-tuning. He thinks he just hallucinated something.

“We need you to babysit for this rut,” Darcy repeats from the other end of the video call. The sentence makes no more sense the second time around.

“No you don’t,” Tony says inanely. “Where’s Barton?”

“Home,” Darcy says.

"Rogers?"

"Mission with Natasha and Sam."

“Thor and Foster?”

“Off-planet.”

“Pepper?”

“Running your company.”

“. . . J.A.R.V.I.S.?”

“Tony,” Darcy says patiently. “Can you handle this or not?”

“What?” Tony sputters indignantly. “I can—absolutely I can handle this! I am more than capable of handling this!”

“Okay,” Darcy says. “We’ll drop the pups off in an hour, then.”

“Okay!” Tony says. “That’s fine. That works. I can handle that.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Darcy says, and hangs up. Tony panics.

“J.A.R.V.I.S.!” he says, dropping his tools. “What just happened?!”

“You agreed to babysit the children for the duration of Ms. Lewis’s upcoming rut, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says. Tony panics further.

“They asked me to babysit?!” he says.

“Yes, sir.”

“On purpose?!”

“Apparently, sir.”

“Fuck!”

Tony does the reasonable thing, which is to call Pepper on the emergency frequency. She answers, looking alarmed.

“What’s wrong?!” she says.

“They want me to babysit!” Tony says frantically. Pepper . . . pauses.

“What,” she says.

“Babysit!” Tony repeats, gesturing wildly.

“Tony,” Pepper says with a clear lack of respect for the crisis level Tony is currently operating at. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

“I know,” Tony lies.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., please pencil us in for a call in an hour,” Pepper says with a sigh.

“An hour?!” Tony protests. "They're getting here in an hour!"

“An hour,” she repeats firmly. “I’ll call you back then.”

“Pepper—!”

“An hour,” Pepper says, and ends the call. Tony groans, dropping his head into his grease-stained hands, then mutters a curse as he remembers the machine oil and grit all over them. This is what he gets for taking calls when he’s working, he thinks. This is what he gets for ever taking calls at all.

“I cannot believe they want me to babysit,” he says.

“Ms. Lewis did say you were the last option, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says, which is not helpful.

“So how was I an option at all, then?!” Tony demands. “They know me! They know better than this! What’s wrong with Bruce?!”

“Dr. Banner informed Ms. Lewis and Sergeant Barnes that he was not capable of babysitting fairly early in the children’s lives,” J.A.R.V.I.S. reminds him.

“Yes, but that was him being paranoid about the Hulk, not him actually being incompetant to do it!” Tony says, getting up to start pacing behind the workbench. “I’m incompetant to do it!”

“I wouldn’t know, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says, which, again, is not helpful. Tony groans again.

“Oh my god, I’m not prepared for this,” he says. “They’re dropping them off in an hour. One hour. My lab isn’t childproofed!”

“Yes it is, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S reminds him. “You’ve updated the childproofing in the Tower twice this year.”

“Not enough!” Tony says. “How often are they actually in here unsupervised? Never! They are never in here unsupervised!”

“You are technically supervision, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

“Technically at best!” Tony says. “At best!”

“I suppose, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

“Where’s Bruce?!” Tony demands, looking around the lab. He’s this close to calling Rhodey’s emergency frequency too, but Bruce is definitely closer. Rhodey’s in another damn state right now, and frankly it's a miracle it's not another damn country.

"I believe Dr. Banner is currently in his personal lab," J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

"Call him!" Tony says.

"Is that really the best idea right now, sir?" J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

"An hour, J.A.R.V.I.S.!" Tony says.

"I'll see if he's available, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. says diplomatically. He's saying "sir" an awful lot, which Tony suspects is him trying to placate him or something equally ridiculous, but he's too frazzled to call out his own AI for patronizing him right now. People are leaving children with him. On purpose! And he agreed to it!

He definitely does not have time to call out J.A.R.V.I.S. right now.

"Tony?" Bruce says as a screen pops up in front of him. "Is something wrong?"

"I need you in the fabrication lab," Tony says, because "come help me babysit the Winter Soldier's pups before I fuck them up" is obviously not gonna work. Bruce would probably just leave the damn Tower if he tried that. Possibly the country.

"I'll be right there," Bruce says, getting up from his seat as the screen blinks out. Small victories, Tony thinks.

"That wasn't entirely honest, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. says mildly disapprovingly. Tony still doesn't have time for AI patronization.

"It's an emergency," he says feelingly. "Bruce can be mad at me later, when the kids aren't all traumatized for life. Now what in this place is flammable and where can I hide it?"

[thereaderinsertlady]

a request is for the 'Quest-Tober 'event! can I get a Gaster (undertale) x Male reader NSFW? (Fluff is fine too!) no specific prompt apart from Gaster using his ability to summon multiple hands

Ended up going with a NSFW/Fluff mix :3. Also, I wrote this with male anatomy in mind, buuut ended up making it to where the reader can be any gender lmao. Here's the link on ao3, and I hope you enjoy!

W.D. Gaster x Reader - Maybe. Maybe Not. (Semi-NSFW)

There has been so much sexual tension between you and the lead scientist of Monster’s Discoveries– or, the company that’s known as MD for short. It was a very… on the nose name, but that’s what happens when the King of Monsters starts naming things. 

Monsters have been above ground for nearly twenty years, though the lead scientist only showed up on year ten, only making him more mysterious and sexy. Why didn’t he come out with the rest of the monsters? What made him different?

Rumors circulated about the scientist being a confidant of the King, entrusted with secrets and knowledge that set him apart from the other monsters. Some even speculated that he possessed a special ability or insight that made him distinct within the monster community… but that was just from what you’ve heard. You weren’t sure if any of that was true.

You rubbed at your eyes with a sigh, the coffee pot making a bubbly noise as the water boiled. It was a bit late at night in the break room… well, a bit late was an understatement. It was about an hour before the sun would come up again.

The break room was bathed in a soft, fluorescent glow, casting long shadows on the worn linoleum floor. The hum of the electronics in the building provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts… though, there was a distinct lack of cameras in the breakroom. Last week, you had your sandwich stolen, but alas, nobody from the security department could figure it out.

After a while, you went over and settled into one of the plastic chairs, staring at the floor. The tension between you and the lead scientist had been palpable since the day he arrived. His presence seemed to loom over every interaction, leaving you with a sense of anticipation… though, nothing seemed to come out of any of the conversations, leaving you wanting.

As you sat in the break room, lost in your own mind, the door creaked open, causing you to startle. In walked a figure, tall and imposing, with an air of calculated confidence. It was none other than the lead scientist himself, W.D. Gaster.

He had an aura of enigma about him, his features sharp and his gaze piercing. His attire was always immaculate, a stark contrast to the dreary surroundings of the break room. Gaster's presence seemed to command attention, and the room seemed to grow even quieter as he entered.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice low and measured, though there was an underlying intensity to it. He moved with a deliberate grace, heading towards the medium sized fridge in the corner of the room.

“Um.” You cleared your throat before politely responding. “Good morning Doctor Gaster. Busy night?”

Even though shifts almost always end at five thirty pm, you, him, and a few others usually spend the night getting things done. Overtime pays well, so it was hard not to spend the night.

“Busy as always.”

For a moment, there was a palpable tension in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in Gaster's presence. It was clear that he was aware of the effect he had on those around him.

“Neeeeed… any help with anything?” You asked, trying not to stare at his bony ass. It was a little hard to– with his lab coat and everything, but you still couldn’t help but look intensely irregardless.

“Do you think I need assistance?” To others his words might’ve seemed cold, but you knew he was fucking with you. “Do you think of me as some incompetent soul?”

“Maybe.” You smirked. “Maybe I do, just a little bit.”

Gaster's response was a low chuckle that seemed to reverberate through the room, taking out a tupperware before shutting the fridge. He went over to the microwave– a poor, beaten up appliance– before putting it in and setting it to run for a few minutes.

He went over and sat in the chair next to you, releasing a deep groan that made you want to immediately suck whatever body part he had between his legs.

You cleared your throat. "How are things going with the latest project?"

"It's been tiresome," he murmured, before proceeding to go into a lengthy explanation about what he has been doing for the past few months. Something about dimension hopping? It wasn't something you were working on, so it was a bit hard to follow– especially when he went into the math part of all of it.

The coffee pot shut off, letting you know that it was done. 

Though before you could get up, Gaster flicked his wrist, summoning up an extra set of hands and pouring a mug before setting the cup in front of you.

You gave him a thankful smile, taking a long sip. Your tastebuds were so melted and disintegrated from years of abuse, that it was easy to ignore the bitter taste of straight black coffee.

"Well, that sounds complicated." You were going to say more, but the microwave beeped.

He sighed, not getting up quite yet. He used the same set of extra hands, opening up the microwave and letting the steam out.

"Are you going to eat in here?" You asked.

"I… should return to my work," he said simply.

"Should," you repeated, slightly leaning back in your chair whilst spreading your legs.

…Gaster didn't move from his chair.

You offered a smile, trying to ignore how aroused you were. Was this going to be it? Were you finally going to have sex with him? There's no cameras in the break room. It would be so easy to have sex with him.

"...I really should," he sighed, shifting in his chair. "I need to get some things done."

You paused before pouting, realizing that you were a bit too… horny, to think straight. "Let me work with you," you told him. "It'll speed things up."

"Don't you have your own tasks to complete?"

You waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not on a strict deadline. It's fine."

Gaster gave you a long look, seeming to be thinking… before slumping his shoulders, relaxing. "Very well then. Come with me."

You tried not to seem excited, getting up from the chair and heading out into the hall. Maybe you would have sex with him in the end– it all depended if you could get him in the right mood…

[gale-gentlepenguin]

(monologue prompt)

The CEO of a mega corporation, monologues to his older brother and the party of adventures that he (as in his brother) gathered across the multiverse to fight a greater evil, and points out all of his flaws. The Party tries to speak against the accusations, before the CEO rants about how his brother, the party leader, had attacked him with a butchers knife, and left him to die after the house that their family lived in had blown up, all because his younger brother had calmly asked him to train his puppy.

(An Oddly Specific prompt. But lets give it a go)

The CEO walked into the Boardroom that His brother and his team were sitting in. The Elder brother looked happy to see his successful sibling.

"Brother thank you for making the time to meet with us. I am in need of your assistance we need..."

"Let me guess, you need my help to fix one of your messes." The CEO interrupted, clearly unamused.

"Not our mess, there is a great evil planning to wipe out the multiverse! And we were told you would be able to help us get the materials we need to create the Matter destabilizer." One of the Party members spoke up. To the CEO this one appeared to be the brains of the team.

The CEO sighs.

"No. I am done. You can go get the materials for your Matter whatever another way."

"Brother please. I know you have the materials in one of your Company's Labs. We just need to get in and out. Its for the sake of the universe." His brother pleaded.

"Get out of here John, " The CEO says coldly. "I told you I am finished with your crap."

"Victor... Brother. Its for the fate of the Universe."

Victor had heard enough.

"No, stop your crap. I told you I am done John. I am so sick of you bringing me into your exaggerated bullshit! Do you know how often I cleaned up after your messes! You are a careless Man-child that will chase the shiniest object without a care for who gets hurt!"

John's expression showed the hurt that his brother inflicted

Though it seems his team was not willing to take the slander on their comrade.

"Hey, you dont know him! He has saved us dozens of times. He has helped each of us and we owe him far more than what you would think. John is a hero and you shouldnt talk to your brother in such a way."

Victor looked in the direction of the teammate.

"Oh has he? He saved you dozens of times? Let me guess, did those times he "Saved the day" often involve him trying to get something and it backfiring? Or Maybe it was a misunderstanding that He needed to clear up because of his incompetence?"

The Team looked ready to speak but stopped, situations kept popping into their heads only for the idea to fizzle into one of the two scenarios Victor had mentioned.

"At best he was doing damage control over his own mistakes! John handles stress as well as a Landmine!"

"Victor that isnt true!" John spoke up. Now feeling angry and frustrated with his brother's comments.

"May I remind you of the Dog sitting incident?"

"That was over 10 years ago, let it go."

"All I asked you to do was help train our new puppy. That was all, and what do you think happened?" Victor asked as he looked to the John's team.

"The puppy got hurt?"

"The puppy didnt learn?"

"The puppy ran away?"

"All reasonable guesses but no." Victor responded. He was clearly building to the ending.

"Victor it was 10 years ago."

"You attacked me with a KITCHEN KNIFE AND DESTROYED THE BOILER TO OUR HOUSE! THE HOUSE EXPLODED JOHN! YOU DESTROYED OUR HOUSE AND YOU NEARLY KILLED US ALL OVER POTTY TRAINING A FUCKING PUPPY!"

The entire room went silent. Until one of his team spoke up.

"John, did that really happen?"

John looked at his comrade.

"There is some missing context..."

"Damn it John."

"John what the hell?"

Victor sighed.

"Now, if your team needs my lab, then I will provide it. But John, you are not allowed anywhere near it, and after this is over. I never want to see you again."

Victor walked to leave the board room.

"Is that Clear John?"

John looked down on the floor.

"Yes... Vic."

[eggcats]

This is a random rant and explanation, and means nothing, so feel free to ignore. I just...gotta get everything out to make sure my thoughts are organized in a way where I agree with the decision I've made.

Randomly, at like 2pm on Tuesday, the ceo of the place I left called me. And didn't leave a voicemail but sent a generic text like "Hey it's (name from place) hope you're doing well, was wondering if you had a second to chat 😊" - no further information.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I work 6pm-630a Monday to Wednesday, 2pm on a Tuesday is a time I'm normally asleep, this time I had just happened to be awake for a little when he called me so I saw it happen in real time, but I didn't answer bc a) I was half-asleep and b) I didn't want to fucking talk to him.

So, I immediately text my friend who still works there like "WHY TF IS (NAME) CALLING ME?!???" And she's like wtf???

Another important context. My former boss there either quit or got fired, both of which are insane to me, and (while I may have had issues with him) he was the thing keeping that cesspool afloat, and I'll be pissed on his behalf if the ceo, who has all the maturity of a toddler, fired him after my direct boss helped build that company from the ground up.

More context, it's a small company. The hierarchy when I worked there was CSO/CEO (married), my boss, and me. So I had regular direct contact with this ceo, I know his personality personally - I was subjected to it for the 5 years I worked there. Just to make sure you know my insults are from experience and not just "ceos suck!"

And my friend, who still works there, said she thinks it might be because he's trying to get me to come back to run their lab they opened in another state last year. The one my former boss, who doesn't work there anymore, ran. She said he'd already asked her (she said no) and maybe he's reaching out to me, since - while I didn't do all the client logistics my boss did - I DID run everything else in the lab in the state I lived in (before they moved 2 hours away) - so I left when the lab left.

Which. If he's asking that's insane bc if I had WANTED TO WORK IN THAT LAB, I'D BE LIVING IN THAT STATE AND WORKING THERE. They TRIED to get me to move to that lab and I refused. I'd already fucking moved to a lab for them and got burned when it only lasted a month and I had to pack it up, move it 1000 miles, break 2 leases in a row, and live at home for a year or so to recoup both my credit and my money loss.

SOME MAJOR CONTEXT HERE. That place was a shitshow. They could never fucking give me a direct answer for when they planned on the lab being officially moved. In January, I was told the goal was moved over by May.

I got a new job (ironically, the job I had LEFT FIVE YEARS AGO to come work there) on July 15 of this year. When I did, the lab was still not in any way moved. Despite that being 2 months past the time I was told was the plan.

So I said, fuck that. It's a combination of incompetence and malice to not have a set deadline to try to force my hand into moving 2 hours away, bc without a notice, I won't have income without doing that.

So I got a new job. Told my boss. Emailed everyone July 1 to let them know that starting July 15 my availability would be limited with taking on a new job, but that I'd still help as needed until the move. Legitimately a 2 weeks notice, except I said I'd stay to help out as I could as much as I can.

Got ghosted. No response. Only got a response when I emailed the Friday before, like, hey, reminder, don't rely on me to open and the run the lab like I do starting Monday. Got a brief response.

Have not heard a single thing from either my ceo or cso since, even though it was a solid 2 months of me running myself ragged, getting less sleep and working my weekends there to not abandon them with my leaving.

IT WASN'T LIKE THEY DIDN'T KNOW I WASN'T MOVING WITH THEM. Every single time it was brought up. INCLUDING the first time it was floated, by the ceo to me, to ask if they moved to (place) would I come with them, and I said no. Never once did I even say maybe I'd consider it. My answer was always a firm no. Their ignoring me was because they thought they could bully me into staying and they were mad at me for hurting their feelings or something. Even when I stayed to help they ignored me, and made it seem like I was extorting them by doing so! Like, if you don't want to pay me I'll leave entirely? I'm doing you a favor by still helping out because you only have 3 employees, INCLUDING me?

So, yeah. That's the place I left. They did not once ever email, call, text, or anything since they found out I'd committed to not going with them. The ceo decided to pack up and move the lab entirely in a 2 day span, telling no one - including my boss who was tasked with doing that.

This was in early September. And he's calling me now, mid-November, acting like he cares about how I'm doing.

Bullshit. This company relies on emotional manipulation to get you to overwork yourself to death, and they burned me out during the 5 years I spent killing myself for them. Being paid barely the going rate for lab supervisors, being constantly promised bonuses and raises that never happened, being told things that are forgotten immediately after and getting upset at you if you dared to bring it up. They burned me out, going to work was a chore I hated and I didn't want to even do a single thing with them anymore by the time I left. It wasn't until they weren't my only income that I could see how stressed I was just on a daily basis, or how toxic of a work environment they had created.

Oh, and, don't forget the MULTIPLE nervous breakdowns they gave me from stress and overwork! ONE OF WHICH MADE ME BURST INTO TEARS AS I SOBBED IN FRONT OF THE CEO BECAUSE I WAS SO STRESSED!!!

I'M NOT A PERSON WHO REGULARLY CRIES, AND THAT PLACE MADE ME DO IT ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS!!! AND THEIR "SOLUTION" AFTER THAT CRY WAS TO SEND ME HOME FOR A FEW DAYS AND THEN IGNORE WHAT I HAD SAID AND DID THE EXACT SAME THING AND ALSO DID SOMETHING I EXPLICITLY. SAID. I. DIDN'T. WANT. THEM. TO. DO. Spitting in my face in the process.

I didn't forget that, but I guess HE did.

Oh! And before I forget!

They made me and my coworker work when we both had covid! 😊 Somehow, we did and ALSO didn't infect the other 2 people working there with us in that tiny lab. Absolutely insane thing to force us to do!

Fuck them.

Yeah. I'm backing my decision to ghost him. If it was something legitimately important that he needed to contact me for, he'd had said it in a voicemail or text.

I'm not calling him just to say hi and then deal with the empty promises of pay or whatever as he tries to convince me to come back.

I fucking hope they crash and burn. I live in anticipation for the day I check their company site or on Google maps and learn they went under. Nothing would bring me more joy.

[iobartach]

@ascendedpath asked; "You're barely staying upright. You need to lie down, they can function without you long enough for you to take a nap."

for muses who don’t understand the meaning of the phrase ’ take a break ’ 

Bleary eyes narrow to a sharp focus at the sound of her claim, straining to listen, but ultimately losing track. Given his overwhelming size and slanting stature, the risk of keeling over and breaking something - an object, as opposed to a bone - ran higher than he would've liked to admit, but even so, the thought of rest held no appeal. Not when he was on the verge of a breakthrough, a refined version of his gene-splicing technique that might just...

Help.

"And hand over my work to a far less experienced and borderline incompetent pair of hands to finish?" A harsh scoff left his throat at the thought, ego firmly on display, enabled by fleeting energies and spent patience. "Now that's a good one." A venture that would prove fruitless in the long run. He was nowhere in the vicinity of a solution for his unique problem than the other lab scientists were of getting Tyler Stone to focus on their exploits and experiments, rather than those developed and overseen by Alchemax's golden boy.

"I've come too far to not see this through myself." Turning away briefly, eyes are brought towards a microscope, examining a slide containing a simple of his blood. The price of time gained for exploring potentials came at the cost of not only long hours, but also promising the company's greedy shareholders a new suggestion for the Corporate Raider program, that had been put on ice following mister Sim's death, and his own...

Accident.

"I'll rest when I feel like it." Or simply collapses.

Both are strong possibilities.

[notthestarwar]

@starrrgazingbunny

Lol that's it!!! Obi Wan is always like 'it's a terribly difficult job being married to a man benevolent enough to keep offering up our sofa to whichever of his few million brothers is having a bad week' meanwhile Cody is like 'they wouldn't be on the sofa if you hadn't already given up every bed in the house to whichever poor soul you've stumbled across recently' and they act annoyed but they love each other for it.

Meanwhile Anakin is just a permanent fixture in their apartment by now. He watches all their arguments while eating cereal out the box like 'yeah this definitely isn't about me'.

And that is the exact feel!!! That spiderman meme but its fox and Boba on either side of a backstreet cloning lab (they aren't successfully doing cloning btw the fic goes in to the fact that none of them have the skill of the kamineese. There's just a lot of bodysnatching and attempting cloning going on. There's a comic book vibe to it 😂 lots of incompetent unethical scientists about)

Now it's funny you mention where Quinlan gets his money, as that part is addressed and I have written it! so wonder no more. Here's another snippet, later in the fic, with Cody once again concerned about fox's income (or lack of it) below. Here, Cody has found Fox's pi office (which he's been keeping secret from everyone because, he doesnt like being open with people lol) and tho fox doesn't tell him about Quin, he does think about it and that explains the source of the money

And yeah, if I ever finish it it'll be uploaded to ao3 and I usually post links here so (if I remember- sorry I do have a terrible memory lol) I can totally tag you. I've got multiple fics on the go atm tho and I'm trying to figure out a few rewrites of my older stuff so this one's definitely not on the menu atm. I may well do some more snippets of the bits I've written tho (there's a bit that explains the cloning crime wave and how Fox got involved that I may well put up on here) so if you're interested in the disjointed bits, I'm happy to tag you in those?

"Are you happy?"

Fox shot him a look. What kind of karking question was that?

He didn't say the words aloud but his brother seemed to read them in his face all the same. Cody was good like that.

"That, is the only question I'll ever want answered when it comes to you, Fox."

Fox stays stubbornly silent. Cody didn't seem to notice the poor welcome, settling in all the same.

His brother folds himself in to a chair, graceful as ever. Cody had always had this way of moving, there was a certain flow to his movements. Like molten metal, rolling but weighted all the same. Time in his Jedi's company had only made it worse.

Jedi moved like that because of the Force, its powers helping them stay one step ahead, always. More often than not, Jedi moved like life was a dance, their smooth movements rolling together like a predetermined routine.

His brothers movements belied that same determination, something that only grew more obvious with each day he spent in Kenobi's company. Kenobi moved with a grace fed by his precognition, but Cody moved in this way in spite of the Force's absence. Fox's brother had never needed mystical powers to be sure in his movements, he held within him a well rounded confidence born only of his own competence.

Cody met his eyes in the kind of piercing way that would make him revolt, had it come from someone else. Sitting opposite him, his brother looked directly in to his soul and waited, patiently.

It made Fox want to not say anything, just to prove that he could. He didn't though. He never could leave Cody waiting too long, he just didn't want to.

"I don't do this to be happy. I don't think it's something that ever could bring me that."

He scoffed. "Finding happiness in employment is some natborn shit, it doesn't exist."

He ran his tongue along his teeth. "This is my job because without it, I wouldn't stand a chance of finding that anywhere else in my life. These people need someone like me, to find them. I don't want to rest knowing that someone else is looking, I want to be the one that finds them. "

Cody tilts his head. Fox has potentially, said too much.

The problem with Cody has always been that he sees so much more than you want him to. Fox generally avoids these kind of conversations as admitting anything to his brother, usually results in you leaving that conversation, feeling somewhat skinned. Cody can somehow leave you feeling raw and open to the elements without so much as a word.

He's clearly seen whatever he was looking for as finally, he rights his head, only narrowing his eyes and asserting "That's OK then."

Fox bites back a snappy remark about being glad he's got permission. There would be no damn point. Besides, he hardly wants to give his brother any more to silently pick apart.

After a moments more careful watching, Cody smirks. The moment has broken. They are just brothers again.

"The only part I am a bit uncertain about is your insistence that this is a job. You aren't in employment Fox, whatever you say, you'd need an employer for that to be true and how can it be a job, when you don't accept any money?"

Fox shoots him an irritated look, glad they are finally past the point of talking. Conversation with Cody often feels like exposing delicate, wet organs. You find yourself edging around the kind of feelings and motivations that only live in the darkest depths of a person, those crammed in to the base of a heart, tucked deep within one's liver.

"As a matter of fact I do accept money. I have fees. That's the whole point of being a private investigator. It's a service which ones customers pay for."

Cody grins. Looking behind his shoulder, towards the door. "Sure, says it on the door. 25 an hour, what does that convert to these days? A stiff rate I'm sure. How often do you actually charge it though?"

Fox frowns. "I've done my time being ordered round by natborns. I won't accept money they offer in exchange for chaining me once again. I won't take money so that they can order me to deliver to them someone else for chaining."

Cody gives him another scrutinising look. "You're a good man. I don't think anyone says enough but it's true." You should hear it more. "Declining a paycheck in favour of what is right is an honorable thing."

He lets his words hang there a moment before continuing, "There's no shame in feeding yourself though. Can't help anyone if you can't eat."

Why did it always come back to this.

"That's not a problem. I'm fine." Fox tells him. " Go back to your Jeti. You've done your bit, you are allowed to go back and enjoy your life once again".

Cody hums. "Isn't it though? Because a little bird told me you aren't taking on much of anything paid at the moment." He narrows his eyes. "You send them away. Sometimes you send them away and do the job anyway." He raises an eyebrow. "Surely you can take their money and just tell them the person didn't want to be found?"

"I could. I won't." Fox replies stiffly. "These people think they own you once they pay your bills. I don't do this for them, I do this for the people who need to be found, who need their lives back in their own hands. "

Cody sighs. "I know, but those people can't pay. If you are saving them anyway. Why can't you just take the money under the agreement that its not for delivering their missing person back to them, but in payment of ensuring their safety? Payment for what you're doing anyway."

"I could." Fox agrees. "I do sometimes. But I won't do it if they are only paying me with the idea that I'll help them trap that person once again. The idea of it is an anathema. It doesn't do the missing person justice. It's not fair."

Cody shook his head. "You know what I think? I think you are fucking yourself over in service of an ideology that nobody cares about but you. Have any of these people told you they are annoyed you took daddy's money?"

Fox says nothing.

"Of course they haven't!" Cody continues. "Because they aren't! They're just happy that you found them, no matter who brought the case to your attention. No matter who dropped their money on a service you're clearly happy to provide for free."

He looks frustrated. "Look, you know what, it doesn't matter. All I care about is you having enough to live on. While I've got more than I need, I guess it doesn't matter if you want to work for free, as long as you'll ask me for what you need."

Cody sighed. "At least give me that Fox. When you need money, let me know".

Fox scowls at the wall. He could feel Cody's eyes boring in to him. "OK fine whatever".

He could say it to keep his brother happy. Of course he wouldn't actually ever need to ask because Fox's outgoings were sorted, thanks to Quinlan, not that he'd be telling his brother that.

It went like this; Quin like all Jedi, was given a monthly stipend. Quin unlike the rest of the jedi, did not need that stipend to live off, as he preferred to live off whoevers sofa was nearest to him.

Quin liked to come back to Fox, more often than not. He had been doing so for years.

Quin was not the type to need a home or belongings. He preferred to rob travel money from whatever unsuspecting crime boss had crossed his eyeline than to use Jedi funding.

It didn't matter that he wouldn't use the jedi money, they'd send it to him all the same.

The Jedi liked to provide for their own. Quin liked to know that Fox was eating and so, quite against Fox's will, for the past 13 months, Quin had transferred his monthly stipend, out of his account and in to Fox's. Fox didn't need the money and it wasn't a thing. Him and Quin were not anything.

Quin taking it upon himself to hand his money over to Fox didn't mean anything. It was just a Quinlan'ism, one of many. A thing the man did, quite in spite of any kind of logic.

It wasn't like Fox had been hard up before the arrangement started. He may not take much money for investigating, but he did tend to come in to range of large amounts of money, in the ownership of very undeserving people, during his work.

He used most of it to set up the people he found, in new lives. He used a little to keep him alive.

He hadn't needed to, these past 13 months. Fox's bills went paid, if he worked or not and they would continue to. It left a strange taste in his mouth. A indescribable feeling in his stomach. Fox didn't like to think of it.

[notsanguineatall]

I'm back (sorta).

Driving cross country was awful. Driving cross country with a 90lb Lab/Pibble and 3 cats in a Toyota Prius was ridiculous. The moving company was incompetent. Unpacking is a pain in the ass.

I, um, may have watched both seasons of Interview with the Vampire in 5 days. Armand/Daniel 4EVA!

[cwarscars]

Please disregard the unfamiliar teenage intern with giant orange headphones typing away at one of the terminals as quickly as humanly possible. She has a Shinra company lab coat that means she’s supposed to be here obviously. [[ here u go a mari as promised LMFAO ]]

he’s a hot cup of coffee in his hand – so hot its near scalding skin, a hiss between his teeth held as he balances it between fingers – focuses enough attention on the brew that initially, he fails to see her. fails to compute that the staff here at shinra inc are really getting odder and odder by the day – first it was that wild motorbike-riding, mullet-haired rebel without a cause and now this-

a techno-goblin - !

no longer distracted, the sleeve of his coat providing a suitable guard for his skin – he shoots a glance her way. looks once, then twice – spares a double take for the brightly coloured creature sitting at one of the terminals. gaze held, he observes her for a moment; fingers rapidly tapping against keys as if she’s one of the great pianists performing their masterpiece – of course, it sounds less stellar than such a thing – the tapping actually quite irritating – but in his dumbfounded stare, heidegger ignores such a sound.

he clears his throat, shifts eyes to a soldier nearby.

“…the staff are getting younger and younger…” he hesitates, holds onto the thought for a moment “or…perhaps i’m just getting older-“ a crack in his expression, the quirk of a smile. “gyah-“ he laughs, louder enough to surely alert her attention – his words, almost certainly, enough to rouse a look from the girl “trust hojo to go hiring goblins; that man is as incompetent at recruitment as he is science! gyahahaha!”