#anyway though. more gross ads ig

[lover-of-skellies]

Tried searching the word "ads" in my tumblr blog search bar so I could add these to the compilation of horrible ads I've had shoved in my face (and ads that also, have likely been seen by children), but surprise, surprise, nothing came up. According to the search results, I've never posted anything with "ads" in the tags before in my life. Not sure if that's just tumblr being stupid and broken, or if someone who runs this hellscape very subtly nuked those posts. ANYWHO—

Starting a new collection of horrible ads, purely because I'm spiteful and because I don't see how it's ok for ads like these to be allowed ANYWHERE, but heaven forbid someone shares a spicy fic they wrote, or posts drawings of anatomy practice that show too much skin

The werewolf one just sounds really dumb and weird, which. Whatever. Not a crime to be weird, so that one is kinda sorta ok if you squint, but then the other one is literally a woman getting her tit groped by her best friend, as said friend is licking her neck. I didn't get a screenshot of it, but in the same little ad segment as the groping bit, there was also a guy in bdsm gear standing behind a woman who was in a compromising position

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

okay, i can’t stop thinking about the idea of reader nearly dying in the upside down, causing joyce to absolutely rail the shit out of her when they’re finally home and safe. like, she just has to take the opportunity to show the reader how overjoyed she is that she’s alright. any chance you could write something like that? your joyce pieces are wonderfully done!

masterlist

safe and sound

Pairing - Joyce Byers x Reader

18+ :injury and blood mention, implied age gap/secret relationship (r is 19+) smut; slight dom/sub vibes, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), fingersucking ig

Word count - 2262

A/N - i really hope this is okay, i'm not completely happy with how it turned out but i think i like it enough

Joyce hurried over to the Wheeler’s front door from her car, not even bothering to lock it behind her in her rush. Her knuckles rapped against the wood as soon as she neared it, hearing heels approaching straight away before it swung open to reveal Karen Wheeler herself.

“Where are they?” She rushed out, panicked, as Karen stepped aside to let her in.

“They’re just through there.” She responded, pointing towards the living room where you and the others were gathered after the more than eventful evening in the upside down. Joyce was quick to pull both Will and Jonathan into a hug once she’d checked them over for injuries though she couldn’t see you within the crowded room. 

Karen had called her saying you were all there and that you were hurt, she didn’t have time to say much else before the line had clicked and Joyce was racing to her car. She was assured that her sons were fine but it didn’t stop the anxious nausea rising in her throat at the thought of you being hurt - how bad was it? Were you going to die? Were you in the hospital? 

There’d been enough death, enough pain caused by the upside down, she couldn’t bear anymore.

She glanced over to where she could now see you when she pulled away from the embrace, Steve, Robin and Nancy all hovering near you; she could only see a peek of your shoe from where you were perched on the dining table. 

“Mom, we’re good, we’re fine. Y/N was the only one hurt.” Will spoke, nodding over to where you were, leading her over to check how you were.

Robin was sitting next to you, rambling on about something Joyce couldn’t understand though it made her smile when you huffed a laugh at something she’d said. Nancy looked on in concern while Steve wiped over your face with a cloth, standing much too close to you for her liking, his face too close to yours for what he was doing. One of your hands was holding you up, the other was pressing a bag of frozen peas to the side of your head.

“Y/N, are you okay?” She questioned, gasping slightly when she could finally see your face when Steve pulled away. “God, what the hell happened?”

“She saved our asses is what happened.” Robin grinned, nudging you with her elbow.

“Mhm, our total hero.” Steve added, squeezing your knee which did not go unnoticed by Joyce. 

“Upside down monsters and whatnot - the usual - anyway, they were gonna win for sure. Like these big things.” Robin rushed out, gesturing wildly with her hands. “Slimy looking creepy things, right? And they just kept coming and Y/N, she just like whacked ‘em. Like, pow pow.” She continued, miming your actions of using a random plank of wood you’d found as a makeshift weapon. “And we were all running and they were just coming after us - I was sure it was gonna be the end - just a bunch of gross bones and Steve’s quiff just left behind on the ground-“

“Hey.” He interrupted whilst everyone else laughed at her explanation.

“And then we were almost fine but obviously Steve spoke too soon, he was all like ‘guys we made it’ and then Y/N was like knocked down. It was crazy, and we all were shouting and panicking like - what the fuck do you do when your friend is pinned down and about to be eaten by some kind of ugly alien thing? Well, anyway, it was like watching a wrestling match but somehow she grabbed some kind of branch thing and just stabbed it - which was gross by the way. And now, here we are.”

“Wow, you could’ve made me sound more like a hero Robin.” You huffed with a roll of your eyes.

“Sounds pretty heroic to me.” Joyce smiled, nudging Steve out of the way to take a look at your face herself. Her hand brushed yours as she moved the frozen peas from your grasp to see a bruise forming on your cheekbone, dried blood from a cut. Your other cheek had a cut across it that would only need a bandage and she carefully wiped dried blood from your skin, her touch was so gentle and you could feel your cheeks heat up at her closeness; what the two of you wouldn’t give to be able to share a kiss right there. You’d both been terrified, you just wanted some comfort. 

“Ow.” You murmured with a wince when she cleaned the wound beside your bruise.

“Sorry.” She whispered, her breath warm against your skin from how close she was as she concentrated. “Are you boys staying here?” She asked, multitasking as she placed a small bandage over your cheek.

“Yeah, after tonight we thought we’d crash here and just stay together.”

“Okay. I can take Y/N home, I’m sure her parents must be worried.” 

—

“Y’know when I say ‘stay safe’ that’s a command and not just something you can decide not to listen to right?” Joyce spoke as soon as you shut the passenger side door behind you.

“It wasn’t so much of a choice, more like I was tackled by a slimer wannabe.” You returned with a laugh, she smiled at the sound, poking you with a shake of her head whilst she started the car. As soon as she drove in the opposite direction your house was in, you got an idea of the kind of night you were in for.

“I’m serious though. You need to be more careful. I thought you were seriously hurt - that maybe you were dead.” Her voice cracked while her hand rested on your thigh, fingers linking with yours when you held onto her. “Ugh and that Steve.” She groaned.

“What about him?” You giggled.

“He has a crush on you, he was standing so close to you - way too close. And his hand was on your leg, where only my hand should be.”

“Uh oh, is someone jealous?” You teased but fuck did jealousy look so good on her.

“No.” She answered, sliding her hand further up your thigh with a squeeze. “To be jealous of him there’d have to be some kind of fear that he could have you and, trust me, I’m not worried about that. You’d never give me up for him.”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe that’s what I’m into these days, maybe his boyish charm has swept me off my feet.” You teased, knowing he’d described himself as having ‘boyish charm’ to you at least twice. 

“Sweetheart, I think we know that’s far from true. You’re mine and I know you like being mine.” She responded, not taking her eyes off the road as her fingertips pushed against your clothed centre and the way you yelped at the action just confirmed what she’d said.

As soon as she’d shut it behind you both with a click, Joyce had your back flush against the front door, desperate kisses to your lips; careful kisses over your cheeks and jaw, soft and soothing over your injured skin. 

Your hands pulled her hips into yours and the smell of her spiced perfume was just the comfort you’d needed, you shivered at the way her fingers stroked over the bare skin of your waist beneath your shirt before she pulled away to look at you. Her dark eyes locked with yours as she cupped your cheek in her palm. 

“I was so scared when I found out you were hurt.” She spoke, moving into you, her nose grazing the skin of your neck when she placed a kiss beneath your ear before whispering with a rasp. “Let me show you how happy I am that you’re okay.” 

She linked her hands with yours, walking backwards as she guided you both to her bedroom, both of you clumsily kicking your shoes off on the way. 

She pulled your shirt over your head and watched intently as you unbuttoned your jeans, licking her lips in anticipation at the sight of your underwear clad form. She nudged you onto the bed and you watched propped up on your elbows as she undressed before you; teasingly making a show of it. Unbuttoning her shirt painfully slowly and removing her jeans at the same pace, smirking at your growing impatience as you admired her body. 

She crawled towards you with a predatory stare, she was so desperate to taste you, to make you feel just how much she cares for you - how terrified she’d been of losing you. She couldn’t wait much longer, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra and throwing it behind her haphazardly, immediately biting into the pillowy flesh of your breast with a kiss.

You pulled her face back to yours and she was quick to control the kiss, bruising and lustful, her tongue swiped at your bottom lip, licking into your mouth with the taste of old peppermint gum still lingering. 

She pinched your nipple between her finger and thumb and clasped her other hand around yours, slotting her fingers between yours and pushing the joined hands into the mattress beside you. You sighed at the sensation of her teeth biting into your neck with a suck, torso twitching slightly when her fingernails dragged over your skin and only stopped at the waistband of your underwear.

You bucked your hips upwards into her lingering hand and she mockingly laughed against your skin, lifting her face above yours to watch your face when she suddenly pushed two fingers inside you. She revelled in the parting of your lips and the breath that passed them, the sound of the small whimper at the back of your throat when her thumb began to rub over your clit was music to her ears. 

“Oh sweetheart, you look so pretty.” She cooed, keeping her eyes trained on yours in a way that let you know you were to keep them open, even when she was fucking her fingers into you in such a magnificent way. 

“Fuck, Joyce.” You breathed out, she always knows how to get what she wants and right now she wants to hear you, any sound she can pull from you that lets her know you're falling apart at her touch. She can’t control all the bad things that could happen but she could control this, if she wanted a reaction she knew how to get it. So she quickened her movements and curled her fingers, smirking at the perfect whine you let out as you bit your lip.

From your shuddering breaths and the way your body twitched with each thrust of her fingers, she knew you were close; she sucked your nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the hardened bud. Your hand got lost in her hair, pulling at her scalp when it closed into a fist as you came with a choked moan onto her fingers. 

She felt you clench around her, your heartbeat in your chest could be felt from where she kissed you as you panted for breath. She sat up on her knees straddled over you, observing the blissed glaze over your eyes and the obedient way you instantly parted your lips when her wet fingers poked at them. Your tongue licked at them, tasting yourself with a hum of fascination, a strand of saliva glistening in the light when she pulled them out. 

She looked up at you through her lashes when she kissed over your stomach, pulling your underwear down your legs without missing a beat, dancing her lips over the sensitive skin of your thighs. 

The kiss she landed on your still sensitive clit sent a shiver through your spine and the hum of pleasure she let out against it only made it stronger. 

“I love the way you taste.” She muttered against you, tentatively licking her tongue over your aching bud, dragging it through your wet slit with the taste of you just making her more eager. An unrivalled suck to your clit had your back beginning to arch off the bed with a moan of her name, the urgency of her lapping at you was heating your skin up, a layer of sweat surely building. 

When your thighs threatened to clamp around her head she wrapped her arms around them to keep them firmly in place, her nails digging into your flesh with a sublime blend of pleasure and pain. 

Your hand slapped over your mouth, biting into it with the stream of moans falling from your lips, the other aimlessly grabbed at the sheets, bunching them up in your grasp. Your hips mindlessly rocked against Joyce’s face, fucking yourself on her flattened tongue until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your orgasm flooded over you with an astonishing wave of pleasure, seeing stars, mind fuzzy and blank in awe at Joyce’s talents. 

She pulled away with her lips dripping wet with your arousal, a proud smirk tugging at them when she spied your chest rising and falling in search of oxygen, staring at the ceiling to ground yourself. She licked your juices from her lips, swearing to herself that she could never get tired of your taste. 

She claimed your lips with hers again, soft and gentle pecks whilst her thumb swiped over your cheek, making sure to cause you no pain. You smiled at one another with dreamy expressions, basking in the closeness.

“Don’t get hurt again, I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

[order-of-river-phoenix]

since we're in the sending requests business, can i request some brad colbert enemies to lovers oneshot? some slowburn romance where even though they "hate" each other, there's always this tension👀 between them? totally okay if u don't feel writing this, love you and your writing!! ♡♡

Inevitably; Brad Colbert

Fandom: HBO War; Generation Kill

A/N: heyyyyy this is me being back from the dead kinda. this was a special request bc even tho I’m not officially opening requests 1) i love you and 2) i always need more Gen Kill content in my life, even if it’s my own. i hope it’s slow burn enough for you :) also i hate the end but i suck at endings so… yeah

Warning(s): some language ig; a lot of idiocy

no taglist anymore, whoever sees it, sees it.

__________

"I believe I gave you an order," Colbert seethed.

"And I believe that we are the same rank, and therefore you don't give me orders like I'm some boot you can pawn shit on."

"Well, Sergeant, it needs done, so I'm ord- asking you to do this."

You took a breath to keep from saying whatever was bound to fly out of your mouth. "Consider it done, Sergeant Colbert."

Corporal Person leaned into Colbert’s side and whispered, “I did that an hour ago.”

Brad closed his eyes in a resigned sigh. “Ray…”

“I won’t say thing if you don’t.”

“They’ll find out anyway and be more mad than before, you dumbass.”

Ray shrugged. “I don’t feel like getting my head chewed off. Out of the two of you, I like you angry more.”

“Looks like we’ll all be dealing with their attitude the rest of the night then,” Brad muttered, getting back to his original task. “Ray, we’d all appreciate it if you did the right thing.”

“Fuck the right thing,” Ray exclaimed. “You’re the one who told me to do it.” With that, he walked away, likely because he wasn’t willing to get into more trouble with anyone.

__________

“Brad? I can’t stand him. He’s damn good at what he does, but…” you trailed off, finding your wording carefully, as you remembered it was the reporter you were talking to. “He and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“Is that your only comment on Sergeant Colbert?” Wright prodded.

“I can’t imagine the Marines without him at this point, I guess,” you finally added. “We enlisted around the same time. He’s always just… been there.”

__________

"Yo, you think they're gonna-" Garza started, finding it hard to peel his eyes away from the heated scene in front of him.

"Fuck? Yeah, probably," Ray cut in, nodding his head. He wasn’t even looking anymore. The sounds of the two sergeants yelling at each other had become white noise to Ray, who had exactly zero problems with drowning them out with his personality.

“Really?” Gabe asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, Garza. It’s like finding out your parents fuck. It’s kinda gross to think about, but it’s an obvious fact of life.” Ray gestured to the two of you, still huffing and puffing 10 feet away. “Brad and Y/N will inevitably-“

“Person, I swear to god, if I hear my name come out of your mouth again, I will find a way to demote you,” you shouted.

“And if they don’t find a way to,” Brad chimed in, “I will.”

“You getting this, Writer?” Ray exclaimed. “My superiors would rather punish me for speaking the truth than just f-“

“PERSON!” you and Brad synchronized.

While there were a host of things you and Brad disagreed on, the one thing you two could always count on agreeing about was Ray. Which is exactly what was scribbled somewhere in the reporter’s notes.

He gestured to Ray something that suggested he wanted more on that theory when they were out of earshot.

You and Brad had started the day relatively on good terms. Sure, always a layer of hostility, but nothing serious. But as always, something little turned into something (supposedly) worth screaming over.

Lt. Fick simply asked who had a map, as he allowed Encino Man to look at his and somehow hadn’t managed to get it back. Neither of you had your own map, per se, but knew where one was. Unfortunately for everyone else, you two had different places in mind and argued about who was right until it was made clear neither of you had it right in the first place.

__________

“What do I think about Sergeant L/N?” Brad repeated. “Well…. professionally, I think they’re a true asset to as a reconnaissance Marine. They have the trust of every Marine out here, and they’ve earned it.”

“And any thoughts personally?” Wright knew better but was willing to risk a little for whatever answer he could get. If not for himself, then for Ray, who had literally begged him for this.

“Personally?” Brad shifted uncomfortably, and he was starting to wonder why he’d agreed to this one-on-one interview. “I suppose, on a personal level, L/N irrationally irritates me in a way that I am not sure anyone ever has before.”

__________

You were now practically chest to chest, silent except for hot-tempered breathing. Words failed you for the first time in this argument. Whatever it was that you had been so incensed about was starting to fade as you realized how close you were to Brad.

His blue eyes you had always read as icy now seemed to have a fire behind them that only appeared in moments like this. “Y/N…”

It came out hoarse, like he’d originally intended to yell again but caught it before it escaped.

“I-“

“Hey, Colbert? L/N?” Walt’s innocent face appeared around the vehicle you two were practically hiding behind to fight. “Oh, uh, sorry. Was I interrupting?”

You released a breath while taking a half-step back. “No, Hasser. We were just…. It’s not important.” Glancing back towards Brad, you notice he is still staring at you. “What is it?”

Except, there’s no fire and anger in his face now. It’s scrutiny. It’s curiosity, possibly. Almost as if he’s facing a foreign object, which you had seen him do near 1000 times before.

“Ooh okay. Lt wants you ASAP. He didn’t say what it was.” With that Walt looked between the two of you, as if trying to figure out what sort of argument you have gotten into this time around.

“We’ll be right there,” Brad answers, now looking at Walt.

“Listen,” Nate spoke softly, yet there was a firmness that let you know you were most likely in trouble. “I’m tired of hearing that you two can’t get along. Whatever it is, squash it. It’s bad for morale when two team leaders, two NCO’s no less, can’t agree on stupid stuff. Reign it in. I trust both of you, and I need to be able to say with confidence that you two are taking your jobs here seriously. Do you understand?”

You both nodded and synchronized a “Yessir.”

“Thank you.”

Walking away, you felt a bit ashamed, like you did most of the time when you walked away from a fight with Brad. You weren’t sure why you had this part of you that felt the need to argue with him over every little thing. You trusted him with your life, so why couldn’t you just shut up? It wasn’t like he got much cuter when his face turns all red. But there was something about how easily you could get such a level-headed man so angry.

You were suddenly all too aware that the two of you were still walking side by side. Glancing over, you note that the tips of his ears are still flushed. “Brad?”

“Yes, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “for being an asshole.”

“If you weren’t an asshole, you wouldn’t be a Marine.” He shot you something reminiscent of a smile, and you both continued to your own areas in the sleeping quarters.

__________

“What the fuck?” you scanned the next paragraph before looking up at Brad. “I cannot believe that dickwad reporter.”

“What did he say?”

“And I quote, ‘Hidden behind screaming matches and petty arguments was a love so fiery and passionate, many of the other recon Marines took bets on the inevitable coming together of two NCO’s.’” You slammed the magazine down. “Can you believe that? They bet on us fucking? He even wrote that he wagered in.”

“Dear-“

“Don’t tell me you bet too,” you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Now, that wouldn’t exactly be fair, would it?” He leaned over the counter to plant a kiss on your forehead. “I’d have made sure I won.”

“You’ve won either way. You got me.”

“That I did. I am the real winner here.”

“I still can’t believe that asshole embedded with us had all that combat and active war experience to write about, and he still found a way to blast our sexual tension somewhere in the middle.”

He slid the magazine towards himself to skim. “He used to write for Hustler; he probably just missed the content.”

“Missed the content? Missed the content?” you were on the verge of something loud and angry.

“If you’re about to yell at me, remember I did not write this,” Brad gave you a gentle smile. “Besides, if you really want to yell, his phone number is around here somewhere. Argue with him about it.”

“Oh, but it’s so much more fun arguing with you,” you pouted.

[tkblythofficial]

What’s your opinions on J?

I don’t like him to put it simply. A lot of R’s fans see them as a package deal but I don’t and will never see him as someone I have to support because I like R.

There’s some R fans who genuinely like him and I can respect that. However, majority don’t care about him and use their relationship to get likes from R on Twitter. It’s shameless.

One thing about me is I don’t care who my fav celeb dates, if I don’t like their partner I will not support the relationship and won’t change my opinion for a like on Twitter from said celeb. Everyone always says “if you like R, you would want her happy and J makes her happy!” Every time someone says that I roll my eyes. If R/J break up tomorrow, the same people will slander him and say “I never liked him anyways!”

Anyways! Here’s the list of reasons why I don’t like J:

1. The most obvious and disgusting: how they started dating. They met when she was 17 (she blew out her 18th birthday candles on set of WSS and Spielberg himself said they had “sparks” and told R to stop giving heart eyes to J when filming…) and he was 23/24? And it looks like he lied about his age too so he’s a year older than originally thought…wow. The issue isn’t their age gap, it’s when the age gap started. If you have to wait until your partner becomes age appropriate to date publicly then it’s predatory and creepy. I also have reason to believe they started dating privately before she was 20. The whole “besties” crap they did for 3 years didn’t fool me. And even if nothing happened, waiting 3 years to ask your gf out because she’s now the right age is so gross. I’m around R’s age and the thought of pursing someone younger than 22 grosses me out. I don’t want to talk about prom or algebra homework on date nights…

I’m also willing to bet 10 billion dollars if someone asked R if she would date/pursue an 18 year old as 22(going 23 year old) she would say no….

Exactly my point….

2. I really don’t like his silence on R’s hate. A ig post, a comment or something would be better than nothing. This is a personal pet peeve of mine though so maybe not everyone feels as strongly about it. She puts 100000000 percent into him publicly and he does nothing in return.

3. I think he’s unprofessional tbh. I was not impressed with him during TBOSAS tour. He seemed either drunk or incoherent during some of the interviews or easily irritated. R had to save him on multiple occasions because he didn’t seem present or know what’s going on. However, I did think he was occasionally funny, insightful at times, had a nice vibe with Hunter / T and from what I’ve seen, he’s a great singer. I also found him giving love notes to R and T while filming really sweet. Other than that I wasn’t feeling his vibe at all. There’s a video I saw (found it) where R, T and J walked into someone’s livestream video. T immediately greeted the crowd and so did R and J stood in the background awkwardly with a smile. R also enthusiastically told T that she had the same sweater as someone behind the camera and T replied with interest then R quickly grabbed J so he doesn’t feel left out.

4. Adding to the above, R needs to be careful with having herself linked to him unnecessarily. She mentioned that she turned down playing Lucy Gray because she was going to be away from home too long and magically her bf gets cast and BAM, she accepts the role. Imagine turning down this role, a role that the director personally wanted you for and in a franchise you love because you’ll be away from your bf too long. I call BS on everyone not knowing that he was her bf beforehand. The fact that we know this is horrible. She shouldn’t be on any more projects with him and should allow him to do his own thing. It’s not her job to help him get a job.

[the-firebird69]

(1) Bradley Gt Sunday morning Drive - YouTube

andworks on utube not yahoo and so ok tons use google.

and they see it it is in the fine print. no it is easy tos ee tryiusing it.

now this is cool fast ok. up to one eighty and more they say two hundred and a standard old but the new ones are a lot faster. tons of kits now

tons

and they are at the city gold and platinum and more and now. hit it ok. and are hit a lot and by macs. s ee it too we use nothing expect it all dump our funds and factoreies are stuid kids. he hates it. now we etry.

and they shall. lost it today and wer e mad spraying needed. and tons say it we shall die if not. and ready

Hera

not yet but shall and we will and mac says it. tons need it and demand request and shall submit rquests. tons obbugs ok

Thor Freya

gs ths iscoool but he is under duress. but he is under diress bugs at him. at night wake hm and lots of times. we use it ok. need them to spray now we send in teams

and we shall ok but ok need this fixed

mac

we do it yo lie and always

morock

are at it now

ok need it out and your in the way you faggots he is suffering and willw ork and for himself. now we try

jeff

and he hits we hit. and him.

stan

we put a hit on you now stan b ig mouth. and you shall pay for this horrid place. you moron.

Zues Hera

i see it can move so i try more o your funds

stan

andw e take you harware as normal. to weaken you and use others as normal.

Zues Hera

and we see i correct his verbage and im a joke so what i die anyways

stan

good

Hera

and any in the way and you the quasi empire shall fall soon regardless. are weakening. tons of you die and in the fight now. are at you now and are numerous. y8ou hit here their bases adn areas of operation. tons. and most of you morlock live in squalor the macs why and theis empire half assed version. we see youi dont believe us. your at it and down there and are outnumbered all over. morlock crush you. flatten you. and they are whimps in this fight and arena. they saw it and go after your hardware . and tons of it. they are at ten bases in the west trying. and they seek you out. yoiur hardware why you are hard. an learned it. see it now. ten of the very large no are large though. five are major refuelling statinos and the ohter five minor. and we shall hit you stan. you have to get through it. ok. you fag. and missy too what a fn bitch a losser. phave himpay no. and she was steamed. they infight but shit and he is a target. and tons say it this is no fun. and cant see macss. so what. we take your stuff in the fight use it, it is perfuncory, mandatory needed. you make it needed. you too stan cant do a roof it is over a year, and gross shithead squaloer is your goal shit in the front yard. you fn suck. he will seek alternate housing report you heat your fat ass up. though you may be dead by that time. cut in half, back. kill kill kill and are hit and out. and we know when and where. no not skellig. you shall lose all your fleet. becoe a rebel vs your own idiots. and be scourned. ask for his help ad he sahll say it hadns are tied. sorry. and you lose the house. a new landlord ok ahhaah lol right it is sherry and you blow up jason ok. and then she hits you. you boil with hatred. so. your an ass.

tons are at your bases now. since we typed this. tons at trump. he fell islent the spaz. what losers. and yeh ok a sprots car with garth how pathetic. and walked in hulking. his idea too. and is a fool. was arrested along iwth most of you cowards by mac. he hats youf fn losers

tons are at the cities. tons. its a blood bath. and ten foot conduits found going to the countrysde to houses. tons of them. too. and small bnkers below and a few cables. to a router. and your dumb ppl ok and it is in clusters of houses. yes. hides it well tons of you see it they were deadly. we are too. and yeh we do this too. hahah lol

Thor Freya he says whoah way to soke them and youmake it worse have him itch we hit you losers

tons of yours are out stan and we hit them here. tons say it too him. need the house his apartment there and turmp too hit him. tons do. and are after teh key and see why john remalard wants it. to take the apartment use the threat.

and tons see it they did not use robots are dumb. hated. by all and us. she is a cunt. and tons see it. works with garth the traitor and ass to our son. we hate you garth your an imbicile. does not have anything together and is shit. lowly as he is, is what he is. lots of the tards are but he iss hit and the black mac they see it. too late and oh no.

on hawaii 50 now we use thi stans attacks. hit. and pull his stuff now.

Olympus

[majachee]

Anyways continuing with the discussion of fandom ableism because someone NEEDS to talk about it ig

(TW: discussions of trauma/childhood trauma, torture porn, paranoia/delusions, dissociation, and the romanticization/infantalization of such)

The fandom has this... weird thing for romanticizing and infantalizing Bluestreak's canonical trauma, by literally babying him and making him younger than everyone else around him.

Ask yourselves... why do you make Bluestreak so young in fanworks?

"Because he talks a lot! Its a childish and cute trait :)"

Congratulations, you infantalized Bluestreak's canonical coping mechanism for his canonical trauma.

According to his G1 bio, which you can find on the TFWiki, Bluestreak talks and rambles a lot as some sort of self-soothing/distraction method in order to cope with the trauma of having been the sole survivor of the bombing of Praxus. By turning this into something cute and childish, comparing this trait of his to that of a childs and thus treating him as a child, is infantalizing his coping mechanism and his trauma. By turning him into a literal child, you are infantalizing his entire character.

A lot of people also treat Bluestreak as some sort of weird source of torture porn. If they're not infantalizing his trauma, they're adding more to it to make him look more "damaged" so other able-bodied and neurotypical characters can "fix" him and comfort him. I'm not talking about projection here, I'm talking about people who never went through any sort of trauma making him a source of angst and cheap shock value. Typically for some sort of romance plot. Which is weird. Without getting into personal details, it's weird.

This fandom's obsession with literally babying Bluestreak is downright uncomfortable at best. Please, ask yourself why you're writing these characters this way and how you're portraying them.

I've also seen people poke fun at Red Alert's anxiety and severe/dehabilitating paranoia, which is also incredibly gross. I don't think some of you understand just how scary severe paranoia is. While it may look irrational to someone who doesn't struggle with such anxieties, the paranoid delusions that Red Alert has hits close to home to a lot of people.

Don't turn a real and serious disorder/symptom of several disorders into something cutesy and quirky. It's incredibly damaging to how many people view anxiety, paranoia, and delusions.

I know that some sources of canon do treat Red Alert this way, but its our job as the fandom to be critical of canonical media and what messages we take away from it. Just because canon did it, doesn't give you the right to do it.

One last thing I want to bring up is how (TFA) Blitzwing is treated in canon and in fandom spaces.

Many people treat Blitzwing as though he has Dissociative Identity Disorder (for those who weren't aware of the name change, this disorder was previously known as Multiple Personality Disorder). Or OSDD (otherwise specified dissociative disorder).

DID is believed to be caused by severe and prolonged childhood trauma. It's a disorder centered around episodes of dissociation in order to protect the individual from further trauma. Symptoms include severe gaps in memory, out of body experiences, flashbacks, anxiety, depression, self destructive behavior, mood swings... There is a reason this disorder requires a medical diagnosis, and it's comsidered a very serious disorder.

TFA Blitzwing has none of these symptoms, he doesn't have DID or OSDD. If anything, he is based on surface level depictions of harmful stereotypes.

I don't have DID, let me be clear. However, there have been people with DID/OSDD who have spoken up about harmful depictions of DID (often wrongly referred to as Multiple Personality Disorder), and it's not hard to connect the dots that TFA Blitzwing is, unfortunately, part of the problem.

Again, it's our job as the viewers of these medias to be critical of it and what messages we are taking away from these shows.

I'm not saying you can't enjoy Blitzwing or TFA, that'd be hypocritical of me, I just want people to be more open-minded and critical of the media they're consuming. That's all I ask for, truly.

This won't be the last time I'll talk about ableism in Transformers, I plan on going more in-depth in the future. But that's all I really have to say for now without losing focus.

RE: "glitch usage"

A handful of people have told me that they often use glitch as a replacement for "b*tch." I think this usage is fine for the most part, as long as you're aware of the possible implications and you make sure that it could, in no way, be confused for someone suggesting mental health conditions in someone else, or used as an ableist slur/substitute for crazy/insane. As long as you're careful and clear with your intentions, I think you're good for the most part. Again, I don't want people to drop the word entirely, I just want people to be aware of the implications and how they're using it. While I'd prefer it to not be used in a derogatory way, I don't really see it being used as a censored version of b*tch that much of an issue.

If you've used glitch before in this context (substitute for b*tch) but no longer feel comfortable using it due to the ableist implications, may I suggest using "snitch" instead?

It's not mechanical/technological themed, which is where a lot of the silly swear words come from, but it is a word that means tattletale, informant, and steal. It's childish, yes, but most of the silly swear words in TF are meant to silly and childish for the most part.

"Son of a snitch" - son of a traitor/tattletale, still silly and derogatory. Makes me laugh, very silly.

[giogama08]

Fushiguro Toji, Silk Pajama

I FINISHED IT! Here's my collaboration for @heatwave2021 to @alouphen. I'm really sorry for my English, but I hope is understandable enough. Anyway, I chose your first prompt laying in bed on a hot day. I feel bad that is not longer, but hope you like it. I swear I tried to make it nsfw but I couldn't, it's just so difficult T-T

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: slightly suggestive, groping, fluff with a suggestive ending, mention of nsfw, f!reader ig.

Thanks to the special training Toji has received since birth, he is practically immune to extreme temperatures. He rarely complains about the weather. Moreover, during his numerous missions, he faces different weather conditions without sweating a drop. He has gone thru hellish deserts and freezing mountains, so an unusual high-temperature season doesn't bother him at all.

You, on the other hand, were another story. With a heatwave right over your town, you weren't having the best time. Both of you agree that to keep the electricity bill low, the air conditioner must be off during the night, so it can be on during the day when the heat is unbearable. But of course, that makes your nights a nightmare.

You woke up before the sun came out, sweating everywhere and the blanket tossed aside. It was still pretty dark outside, and judging by how tired you felt, there must be plenty of time before you had to go to work. Your boyfriend snored pleasantly by your side, sleeping only on his underwear. You couldn't help to curse him in your mind. "How can he sleep with this heat!" you thought. Though maybe it's because he sleeps with almost no clothes. Unlike him, your summer pajama consisted of a simple cotton nightgown, but even that feels too hot right now. So, you had the idea to follow his example and take off your clothes. But even without it, you still felt sticky and gross. Thus, you decided a nice cold shower would help you get rid of the stickiness.

The cold water started running in the shower, sliding over your skin and removing your sweat. Your corporal temperature went back to normal, and you felt relief as you got out.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the sound of falling water that woke Toji. It was the lack of weight on your side of the bed that disrupted his sleep. As he turned over to check, you exited the bathroom with your hair still wet.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" You asked with concern. Instead of answering, he stared at you longer than usual. He had always thought that you looked gorgeous, but that morning you looked like an angel. With the few morning rays that started passing through the window and the water dripping from your hair, your face seemed to glow. But what really caught his attention was what you were wearing. It was a cute royal blue pajama made of satin, so it felt pretty nice at the touch. It consisted of a camisole and tiny shorts. It wasn't your favorite, but it sure was freshening, and it looked good on you. The only problem was that it was a bit revealing, and you could tell by how your boyfriend was looking at you. Even after just waking up, he looked ready to jump at you.

Flexing his muscles, he extended his hand, urging you to come closer. You climbed back to the bed but stayed as far from him as you could. That, of course, didn't please him.

"Come here," said Toji, almost pouting. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, but you pushed him gently.

"No," you replied, feeling how your temperature raised where he touched you. "It's too hot, Toji,"

"Yeah, but that's your fault," he teased with a playful smirk.

"No, I mean that is too hot for that,"

You fought with him for a little, pushing his chest to keep yourselves apart. He, however, was troubled. You looked so good, and the little fight was so adorable that he just wanted to take you right there. Nonetheless, you've never refused to do it, even when you've arrived tired from work. So he figured that you really must be struggling with the temperature. Therefore, he got an idea. He let you go and ran to the kitchen.

You heard the fridge open and, for a moment, worried that Toji might be mad at how you rejected him. But as you were about to call him, he appeared once again at the door. To your surprise, he was carrying a bowl full of ice.

"What are you doing with that?" You asked.

Instead of answering, he laid down with you again and put a bunch of ice on a cotton tissue. Next, he held it against his chest. He grabbed you again and brought you closer, hugging you so you could rest on his shoulder. The fabric with ice pressed against you and relieved your heat for a bit.

"Better?" he asked, stroking your hair carefully.

"Yes," You said, cuddling against him.

It was a nice feeling to be in Toji's arms and feeling the cold tissue to help you cool down.

You two stayed in bed for what felt like hours, with Toji adding some ice every time the ones in the cloth melted. You were so comfortable that you didn't even notice how one of Toji's hands played with the hem of your camisole.

"It really is a nice outfit," He whispered, feeling how your breath slowed, meaning that you were falling asleep again. Unfortunately, the room started to clear as the sunlight entered directly, causing the heat to increase little by little. When Toji noticed you sweating again, and the bowl of ice melted completely, he decided it was time to turn on the air conditioner.

"Don't you have to go to work?" You asked since he always leaves the house before you.

"Later, maybe," he responded with a smile, caressing your cheek. "Right now, I just want to be with you a little more,"

"It's not like you to be this needy," You giggled.

"I'm not needy. I just want to feel your pajama a bit more. It's so soft," Toji's hands roamed through the fabric, tickling you as he wandered over your clothes. Suddenly, you felt how one of his hands moved under your camisole and groped your breast.

"Toji!" you whimpered but made no effort to remove his hand.

"What?" he asked with a devilish smile. "You can't wear this pajama set and expect me to behave decently the whole time,"

As you were about to complain, he shut your mouth with his lips. A kiss hungry and desperate, showing how much he had endured while he waited for you. His tongue moved as he pleased, stealing every breath he could, leaving you both panting. You didn't even realize at what point he changed positions to end up on top of you.

"Now, be prepared, princess," He said with his eye darker than before, "Because we're about to be late for work,"

[simpingforsoftboys]

Moving In With Them

ft. SakuAtsuOsaSuna

G/N Reader

Thank you so much for the request anon! I spent a few moments just imagining this and omg it’d be a hot mess! Also I added some stuff at the beginning cause I just felt like I had to explain how this was even possible aha-

The Odds of Us All readers- you can consider this a part of the series or just read it as a oneshot! But either way this Y/n can be read as either male or female~

Okay so I HC that Tomas (MSBY) was transferred overseas- so that opened a position for a new middle blocker... and luckily the third Miya in the D1 men’s volleyball scene just so happened to be interested in being transferred... now MSBY has not 2- but 3 Miya’s! Naturally this means Suna-Miya needs to move to Osaka ;) 

Prior to the transfer Suna and Y/n had been living together in a nice apartment in Hiroshima 

Meanwhile SakuAtsuOsa were over in Hirikata (which is in Osaka Prefecture) living together in their own place

SakuAtsu were obviously contracted with MSBY, while Osamu ran a branch of Onigiri Miya in Osaka City (which is abt a 34 or so minute drive according to Google)

Atsumu had heard about Tomas’s sudden interest in moving abroad and had brought the subject up to Suna on the dl

So the three of them had been planning everything so that it was ideal for Suna to be brought over to MSBY 

It wasn’t until it was all finalized in the paperwork that Suna and Atsumu realized they hadn’t told any of their partners or even thought of moving

Are we really surprised though? The both of them weren’t exactly in college prep in high school- and for good reason

ANYWAYS- the twin’s and Sakusa’s home was not big enough for four people

Then they realized you might have to stay in Hiroshima for work

Luckily for them- once they finally brought up the topic with you- it turned out you had actually been offered a promotion, though you needed to transfer to your company’s head quarters in Osaka

Definitely destiny

Oh but you, Kiyoomi, and Osamu were not happy at being left out of the loop for literal MONTHS

Getting the place:

Okay so Hirikata is a small- and I mean S M A L L city, with less than an estimated one million residents

So there’s not many housing options that fit your prerequisites

Because of this ya’ll settle on finding a nice place in Osaka City

Eventually- after much searching- you find a (pretty large) property (because budgets aren’t a thing with ya’ll) that’s just perfect!

Ofc you’re buying it ASAP

It takes a hot minute before you move in though- since everyone wants some work done on the place before ya’ll move in

Osamu insists on having all the kitchen’s appliances replaced with new, state of the art ones (makes sense though, his livelihood is all about food quality)

Your volleyball pro partners (mainly Atsumu and Kiyoomi- Rin’s just content with whatever) are having the basketball gym remodeled into a volleyball one- complete with a mini locker-room-esque washroom area

All Suna cared about was having an in home theatre- complete with a legit snack bar (we love his priorities)

Sakusa had the pool drained and deep cleaned and made sure that the mini beach volleyball court that was set up in the yard had entirely fresh sand

Kiyo also had the toilets replaced + the washer and dryers. And even hired extra (trusted) cleaners to thoroughly clean the bathrooms (because he doesn’t trust any seller to do a good job)

Ya’ll spent hella money on the house and you didn’t even move in yet

Finally moving in:

None of you guys lifted a finger when moving your stuff (much to Osamu and Kiyoomi’s chargin)

This was actually because the guy’s trainers and coaches didn’t want to risk them straining or hurting themselves with heavy lifting

I can’t imagine Suna would actually help lift anything though

So you hired movers

Kiyoomi had ya’ll thoroughly wipe the furniture and stuff once the movers left- hating that he had to let them contaminate his belongings

At least he was polite when they were around... right?

Osamu was not happy when he had to help Atsumu unpack the clothes... esp since majority of it is Tsumu’s

“What the hell is this?” Is something you’d hear from him quite a lot

“I got it at Bo’s party a few years back! Cool huh?” Yeah, Tsumu’s kinda hoarding clothes

“The pits have holes.... and it’s stained with beer- lemme just toss it-”

“NO-”

Gross Atsumu

Suna is helping unbox stuff for the sitting room (fancy ig-) and using his height to put everything on the shelves

Honestly he’s procrastinating and using this time to look through every. single. book. 

Drives you crazy istg

“Rin are yo- seriously? It’s been two hours why are you just sitting on the floor? Nothing’s put away-”

“Look at this it’s from university-” He says, holding up an old yearbook...

It’s because of this, you and Osamu are probably the ones to get the sitting room situated later

Kiyoomi is... probably binge cleaning all the stuff as soon as he pulls them out of the boxes

Yes, he wiped everything before packing it away but what if some disgusting b u g s hitched a ride?

It’s fine if everything’s cluttered on the floor/bed/counter/wherever he’s unboxing stuff atm- at least he knows it’s clean and not dirty

You have to actually be the one to put the stuff away while he wipes- lest he run out of space

It works surprisingly well all things considered

“Oh no...” He’s finally unboxing the cleaning supplies... but he’s out of disinfectant wipes and can’t wipe them down- thus rendering them useless (in his opninion)

“Kiyoomi just... grab the unopened wipes from the box- open it- and use those to wipe the rest of the supplies?” You suggest. Although hesitant he does as told... until he sees something that proves all his fears valid.

“Holy shi- THERE’S A SPIDER! I KNEW IT WOULD FOLLOW US!” He says very loudly, scrambling away from the dead spider AND the supplies

Needless to say you have to make a trip to the store to buy him more wipes- meanwhile one of your other partners have to go pick up and throw away the arachnid

Also while all this is going on- someone (Tsumu actually) has to make sure the bedsheets and blankets are all washed before putting them on the bed for the night (again in case of the bugs)

This is the only thing he doesn’t half ass tbh, since he knows it’s important to Omi-Omi

Ya’ll finish the day with a lovely shower

Well Osamu, Kiyoomi, and you do

The shower in ya’lls bathroom is N I C E and H U G E! Like it’s the type with jets on the floor and walls, plus it has that really nice overhead rain fall like shower head

Atsumu and Rintaro are relaxing in your custom made jacuzzi tub that costed more than a car-

The tub is really awesome too, big enough to fit all five of you comfortably and has powerful jets to massage any knots out 

Rip to the water bill though like that thing’s expensive- on god

Anyway that’s just the first day and daily life promises to be exciting 😭

[theburninghill]

welcome to the blog!

thanks for being here. this is just a simple intro & my blog rules

navigation tags 🪓

sparks writing

the tag to find any of my writing

by spark

this tag will be added in addition to sparks writing! and it's just as it sounds, an original work

request fill

again, just as it sounds. an additional tag for- you guessed it- request fills!

request status ☎

closed, unfortunately! not as into writing as I used to be, but feel free to send a request anyway on the off chance that I decide to return

about me

I go by spark and my pronouns are he/him! though I'm not entirely opposed to the use of he/they. when referring to me, please use only masc terms

(those who wish to request or simply browse the blog, please pay careful attention to these next parts)

I write for male- which of course includes my fellow trans men & gender neutral readers.

please don't ask of me to write for a female reader! also fem aligned please don't interact with my posts made for male readers

I'm completely comfortable writing for any kind of genre! fluff, smut, lime, even angst! which I'm not very good at, just a quick warning!

if you request smut or limes I only do dominant reader because that's easiest for me- sorry!

minors, I'm gonna say it once. please don't interact with my spicy posts. I'm not gonna put that on every single nsfw post I make because y'all should know better

for requests I refuse to write gross stuff

this includes child/adult, incest, kinks like (scat, piss, feet, throw up, anything generally gross ig)

slashers I write for include ...

vincent, bo, and lester sinclair (seperate of course)

stu & billy (separate as well as poly)

billy lenz

leather face (sawyer as well as hewitt)

michael myers (both versions)

jason voorhees

brahms heelshire

might add more in the future!

[ooops-i-arted]

Din's morning routine: finding Yoditos in various inconvenient places while trying to get ready in AM. OR view frim inside of 'fresher door - dozens of tiny hands and "Dads?!" Happiest if Birthdays to you!

Thank you! Please enjoy this outline of Din's morning. And this was also inspired by your request.

-

3:38 AM

Din rolled over to check the chrono, or at least as much as he could with a snoring juvenile varactyl using half of him as a pillow. Twenty-two minutes still until his alarm went off. He lay back down and closed his eyes, hoping for a little bit more sleep.

3:57 AM

A wail started growing louder and Din’s dream of searching for his children in the ruins of Aq Vetina melted away as he sat up, struggling out from underneath Boga Jr. He knew that sound. The babies were awake early this morning.

Quickly he stumbled into the children’s room, finding that fortunately only Yod’ika 99 and Yod’ika 94 had woken each other up in the crib. He scooped them up and held them to his collarbone with one hand, humming softly and soothing them with the vibrations in his throat while he used his free hand to fix a bottle of formula for each of them and set it in the rack Kuiil had constructed to suspend over a matching line of customized infant seats, each labeled with the number of Yod’ika it was sized for. Once his two little ones were sufficiently soothed he set them in their seats and tilted the bottles into their reach, allowing them to drink while he started preparing another batch of breakfast for the others still asleep.

The infants were still being bottle-fed, so he fixed up those first and set them in the racks so they were ready for their recipients. Next were the older kids; the three jars of minced salamander had the closest expiration date so he set up bowls of those and stacked them in the fridge for when the older children woke up. A few servings he put through the food processor and mashed first, for the youngest toddlers who still had difficulty chewing as much.

4:25 AM

IG-11 always entered quietly enough not to wake the children but still with some familiar mechanical whirring of gears. He always claimed Kuiil had forgotten to oil them again, but Din had overheard Cara telling IG-11 not to be so quiet to not startle Din a few weeks ago. Din wasn’t quite to the point where he could thank IG-11 for the effort but he did appreciate it in silence.

“You’re early,” Din commented.

“My morning optimizing subroutines finished early,” the droid said in its flat voice. “I have been running some in the evening as well before shutting down, to be as efficient as possible.”

“These two are awake and fed,” Din said, removing the bottles from the racks and scooping up two of his smallest sons.

“I will engage tummy time routines.”

Din set the two in IG-11’s clawlike hands. “Try and stay quiet.”

IG-11 took the babies. Din could already hear a few more starting to stir, but let IG-11 handle them as he returned to his room. He hadn’t found time to shower yesterday so he definitely had to this morning.

Boga Jr. was awake and already rearranged the bedding into a bigger mess, looking proud of her efforts to reconstruct her “nest” as she usually did. Din scratched her head feathers before pulling out his jumpsuit and fresh underwear - dank ferrik, was he due for another load of laundry already? - and heading for the ’fresher.

4:45

He’d taken care of his bladder and brushed his teeth and was halfway into the shower when a bright voice said “Good morning, Buir!”

Din stared. “Yod’ika 18, what are you doing in the sink?”

“I’m cleaning myself,” said the little one as Din glanced at the definitely-locked door.

“Why?”

Yod’ika 18 looked down guiltily. “I had an accident…”

Din got a towel around his waist before going over to check on Yod’ika 18. “Yeah, looks like you did… you know you can get up in the night to go potty, right?”

Yod’ika 18 frowned and looked down. “It’s just so dark at night…”

“We’ll see about getting a night light in there, okay?” Din helped him out of the dirty clothes and threw them in the hamper before pulling out another tunic that passed the sniff test. “Wear this for a little bit and we’ll get you properly dressed after breakfast.”

“No!” said Yod’ika 18, shying away. “It’s stinky, Buir!”

Din sighed, but he was awake enough by now to remember what a neat freak Yod’ika 18 was. “Okay, okay, come here.”

Din scooped the little one up, making sure his towel stayed secure as he went to the closet and pulled out the first outfit he found. “Here you go.”

“It’s not my favorite color…”

“Yod’ika 18,” Din said sternly, and finally Yod’ika 18 submitted to being dressed in the yellow tunic. “Go see IG-11 and he can get you breakfast,” Din said, shooing the little one along.

“But I want to eat with you, Buir.”

“Then wait a little bit and I’ll join you when I get out of the shower.”

The pattering of oversized gangly varactyl feet was his only warning. Boga Jr. loved snatching up clothes and flinging them around and he just managed to get the closet door shut in time to remember that what she really loved was snatching things directly from him, and he only had one article of “clothing” on him right now.

Din barely grabbed the towel in time. “BOGA JR, NO!”

She tugged playfully on it with all her juvenile varactyl strength, encouraged by Yod’ika 18’s giggles. “Stop it!” Din ordered, barring her from getting closer with his leg; he needed both hands to keep his towel. “Sit, girl!” he said desperately, and luckily she followed the command, her tail thrashing proudly.

“Go tell IG-11 that Boga Jr. needs to be fed,” Din told Yod’ika 18.

He hurried off to perform the special chore, loudly saying, “Of course, Buir, I will help you!”

Boga Jr., knowing food was imminent, hurried after Yod’ika 18. But now Din could hear more stirring, more pattering feet and perking ears and chattering little voices.

He barely made it to the bathroom in time. As soon as he shut and locked the door there were already scratching noises and bustling little bodies and loud little voices. “Good morning Daddy!” “Papa I want to come in.” “Stop pushing me!” “Daddyyyyyyyyyy-” “Come eat breakfast with us Buir!” “Dada, food, I hungwy…”

The doorknob started moving all by itself. Din grabbed it and held fast. “Anyone who opens this door with the Force doesn’t get frogs for a week!” he yelled in desperation.

Suddenly the door stopped vibrating slightly and it was quiet on the other side.

“Go and tell IG-11 you’re awake,” Din said. “I’ll be out soon and I’ll eat with you.”

He listened for acknowledgment and to make sure the horde retreated before finally, finally getting into the shower. Just in time to find out IG-11 had used all the hot water on food prep and dishes.

5:10 AM

Din toweled his hair dry just enough to not make the inside of his helmet gross before leaving the bathroom and going to his bedroom to put it on. He didn’t bother with the rest of the armor yet, but even though IG-11 was the only person - thing, droid, whatever - there not a family member, he still didn’t like breaking the spirit of the Creed’s helmet rule anyway. And there was no telling whenever anyone else might come by.

He knew food had to be out and served since no one was swarming him, and he passed through the kids’ room to see how many were still asleep. Not many - once they were up, the horde usually swarmed like flies on a ronto.

“Dad?” asked a sleepy voice just as Din was about to step out, and he turned to see his eldest sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Good morning, Yod’ika,” Din said. “You still sleepy or ready for breakfast?”

Yod’ika held out his arms in a plea to be held. “Breakfast.”

Din scooped him up obligingly; every child in his care needed individualized attention but Yod’ika was always extra hungry for it. He snuggled up under Din’s chin and Din smiled, rocking him a little. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“Yeah,” he said. “No bad dreams.”

“Good,” said Din, and he made sure the few remaining Yod’ike were fast asleep before carrying Yod’ika into the kitchen.

Most of the awake Yod’ike were sitting at the table but several were still crawling and toddling on the floor, too restless to eat yet or already finished, and the babies still in their feeding chairs were starting to cry. Din hurried over to get them out first, his helmet’s audio feed automatically adjusting to the volume.

“Buir, come eat with us!”

“Hold on, let me get the babies first,” he said without looking at who had called for him. He felt a stubborn, otherworldly pull on his hands. “No!” he told the babies firmly, and the sensation stopped. Din was glad they were responding better; the last thing he needed was an infant unexpectedly yanking him around. Carefully he extracted the infants from their feeding seats and passed them over into IG-11’s supervision, watching the droid as he carefully put them in the playpen he’d set up for them. Only the very youngest ones could still be counted on to stay where you put them, and Din knew he wasn’t going to have that luxury much longer. Even little Ika’ika was already squirming in protest in the playpen, rolling over repeatedly to try and make himself move.

More Yod’ike toddled in, calling for him, so Din told them good morning and started heating and setting out more bowls of minced salamander.

“I want frog,” whined Yod’ika 27.

“We’re eating the salamander today,” Din said. “We’ll have frog another day.”

“Can we go frog hunting today, Baba?” asked Yod’ika 14, quickly echoed by several of his brothers. “It’s been ages since we got to!” insisted Yod’ika 18.

Din knew “ages” meant “a week” but it was one of the clan’s favorite activities. “I need to look at the schedule and see if there’s a pond that’s been rotated long enough. If we go too soon, there won’t be enough frogs -”

“For us and for the animals,” chimed in multiple Yod’ike.

“Exactly,” said Din. Proudly, “Good job remembering.”

“We hafta take care of the en-vi-en-met,” added Yod’ika 33.

“You’re right,” Din said, finally getting his own bowl of human protein-fortified cereal and sitting down at the table, setting his helmet in his lap where it was safest from sticky hands.

“Can I try some, Buir?” asked Yod’ika 6, reaching out.

“No,” Din said, waving his spoon at his son’s hands. “Eat your own.”

6:00 AM

Everyone was awake - it was rare any of the Yod’ike slept through the din of their brothers - and everyone was fed, so now it was time to get ready for the day.

“You all know the drill,” Din told them. “Old clothes in the laundry, use the potty, IG-11 set out new clothes for you, and then brush your teeth.”

They all chattered agreeably and then the storm of pajamas flying through the air began. At this point Din was used to the commotion, so he pulled off the shirt that landed in his face off and went over to start changing the babies one by one, occasionally pausing to remind the others no laundry fights but otherwise going as fast as he could before -

“Buir, I need help,” said Yod’ika 44’s little voice at his ankle.

“Ask one of your brothers,” Din said, barely remembering to say it instead of automatically helping his son. “Right now I’m changing the babies.”

“But I want you to do it, Buir.”

“Then you need to wait.”

Sometimes it worked, but more often than not Din had a cluster of Yod’ike seeking help (and attention) sitting at his feet. Today Yod’ika 44 sat right on his foot, clutching his new outfit and underwear.

Din felt something wet on his foot and his stomach turned. “Did you wipe?”

“Oops!” Yod’ika 44 ran back to the bathroom.

Din didn’t look down. He just quickly grabbed a wipe and cleaned his foot very thoroughly before anyone else came over.

By the time he was working on Ika’ika - a delicate task, changing the smallest diaper in the galaxy and stuffing the squirming infant into the smallest custom mudhorn-patterned onesie Cara had brought back from her last trip into the Core - a whole cluster of children were at his feet, arguing who was first for help and shouting at Yod’ika for trying to force them to accept his help, Yod’ika the loudest as he yelled back that he was the oldest and his help was just as good as Dad’s.

Din knew if he let go of Ika’ika, even for a second, all his hard work making the wiggly baby get dressed would be undone, so he ignored the fuss until finally he could hand Ika’ika over to IG-11, who deposited him back into the playpen with his littlest brothers. “Okay,” Din said. “Who needs help?”

With at least thirty kids clamoring “Me! Me! Me!” it was impossible to tell who had really been first. Din had found the most success by making it into a game and randomizing it, so he said everyone with a blue outfit had to go see IG-11, everyone with a mythosaur on their clothes had to go ask Yod’ika for assistance, and anyone with a mudhorn should wait for him. They were used to the game so there wasn’t a lot of protest, and now Din had only five children waiting. He pulled on shirts and shorts, gently folded ears through a hat, and tucked Yod’ika 29’s malformed feet into their supportive shoes.

“Are we all ready?” Din asked his brood, all eagerly staring up at him.

“You’re not ready, Dad,” pointed out Yod’ika, and the others all nodded in agreement.

Din looked down. The flightsuit was on, and already stained by food and slobber from when he’d helped his sons eat and from when Boga Jr. had rested her head in his lap, trying to steal scraps. He suppressed a sigh. “No, I guess I’m not.”

7:02 AM

His armor was on, even polished a bit thanks to Yod’ika 3 sneaking into his room for some quiet time in Din’s room. (“But I was being an Armorer,” he’d said so sweetly, and he’d used the right polish, so he got out of any consequences.) He’d remade the bed so it wasn’t currently a varactyl’s nest. The kids were all awake, fed, and dressed, and ready to take on the day. And now, so was he.

“Dad, come on, let’s play!”

“I’m coming.” Din put his helmet on, and stepped outside, ready for anything the galaxy had to throw at him today.

[spoondrifts]

long post ahead I'm sorry-

crack au where Jonah Magnus is a good guy but everything keeps going wrong and he spends all of his time running around trying to stop his employees from diving headfirst into their Fuck Up™ of the week

in this au Jonah is almost entirely incompetent but he's got the exasperated parent thing down enough to make up for his lack of braincells

he's also at least 7% dumber than he is in canon

s1 Jon: please call pest control there are so many worms

s1 Elias: I already did

Jon: and??

Elias: they ate them

Jon: the worms?

Elias: the pest control guys. the worms ate them

Elias spends the entirety of season 2 desperately trying to convince Jon that none of them killed Gertrude (in this au Gertrude just had a stroke or something in the tunnels). Elias stops Jon from destroying the table but a week later something heavy falls on it and the NotThem escapes anyway. Elias bashes in Leitner's head with a pipe after mistaking him for the monster and Jon gets framed.

now Elias has to convince this hunter that Jon is innocent while Jon runs around and harasses various fear avatars (who are all very amused with Elias' wayward Archivist). Jon assumes Elias knows nothing about all this bullshit because Elias is just his weird and uptight boss who accidentally killed someone, he can't possibly know that there are literally fear gods ruling over them

olive ⚰ has named the group 'Avatars ✨'

JMagnus 👀: Jude please don't hurt him. I'll explain everything when he gets back to the Institute.

🔥: too late

JMagnus 👀: What?

🔥: too late

🔥: burned him

[JMagnus 👀 is typing]

JMagnus 👀: Where is he now.

🔥: going to mike

JMagnus 👀: Mike Crew???

🔥: ya

Elias RACES to Mike's house but he. he fucking misses them. the Beholding helpfully tells him that they're all going back to the Institute so Basira and Daisy can interrogate him, which isn't ideal, he'd really like to not go to jail, so he drafts up an employment contract on the way back and barely manages to escape the whole thing with his life intact.

then he explains everything to Jon because if Jon is going to end up being the Archivist, being uninformed won't do. Jon becomes the Archivist completely on accident and Elias is desperately trying to make all of this work because, haha, the Unknowing is coming up, and Elias is not in the fucking mood to deal with clowns.

olive ⚰ has named the group 'all that is terror uwu'

spidey🕸: lmfaooo jonah how do you make an archivist on accident

JMagnus 👀: He stumbled into it. All I can do now is ensure he doesn't die.

JMagnus 👀: Or get further injured by the rest of you.

🔥: woops

🎭: hEy gUyS lOnG tiMe nO sEe

🎭: gEt iT eLiAs

🎭: sEe

JMagnus 👀: Beholding puns are not amusing from a manifestation of the Stranger.

🎭 has named the group 'eLiAs bE niCe tO niKoLa cHaLlEnGe'

🔥: haha

spidey🕸: I'm sure Nikola will be on her best behavior

🎭: yEaH i wOnT kiDnAp yOuR aRcHiViSt

[JMagnus 👀 is typing]

mike n ike: hey guys what'd I miss

🔥: arent you dead

mike n ike: yeh but I came back

JMagnus 👀: NIKOLA ORSINOV WHERE IS JONATHAN SIMS

🔥: can't you see haha

mike n ike: heh "see"

JMagnus 👀: NIKOLA

spidey🕸: wow he must be pissed

spidey🕸: he left out the punctuation

JMagnus 👀: I WILL BREAK ALL OF YOUR PLASTIC BONES WHERE'S MY ARCHIVIST

🎭 has left the chat.

JMagnus 👀: what the FUCK

since he's still a coward Elias sends Michael to go fetch Jon, only finding out after the fact that he very nearly almost signed Jon's death warrant. Elias is now speedrunning Jon's development because fuck the Unknowing is coming up really quickly and Tim is a self destructive mess and Melanie keeps trying to stab Elias and Martin is a pining idiot and goddammit he didn't sign up for this

Elias prepares Jon the best he can for the Unknowing, because even though he knows the ritual will fail, the Circus can still cause a considerable amount of damage and he needs them out of the way.

the Unknowing happens. Jon ends up in a wack ass coma, Tim is dead, Daisy's in the coffin, and Basira is starting to look like the better choice of Archivist because jesus christ Jon has no self preservation instinct. Elias doesn't get arrested this time around but his ex husband starts coming by the Institute and fucking with all his employees. and the Flesh is attacking. jesus. goddamn.

olive ⚰ has named the group 'bully elias'

JMagnus 👀: Why are you all so mean to me? I'm arguably the nicest one here.

🔥: ur joking right

Peter Lukas: you're not nice you didn't buy me an anniversary gift 😢😢😢

JMagnus 👀: I was busy.

Peter Lukas: doing what

JMagnus 👀: Stopping the Flesh from destroying my Institute. Besides, you didn't remember my birthday.

Peter Lukas: you're 200 years old how could I remember 😓

helen!!!!!: We All Know I'm The Nicest One Here!!

JMagnus 👀: How did you make your text that colorful?

helen!!!!!: IDK

JMagnus 👀: Liar.

helen!!!!!: That's Literally My Job

olive ⚰: hey eli your archivist just woke up I think

🔥: ew why

helen!!!!!: How Delightful!! Maybe I'll Throw Him A Glad You're Alive Party!!

olive ⚰: should we invite him to this chat since he's an avatar now

Peter Lukas: no 🙅 🚫❌

Peter Lukas: I hate archivists 😤😤

olive ⚰: still mad about gertrude huh

🔥: were all still mad about gertrude

🔥: but jons fine once you burn some manners into him

JMagnus 👀: Can you all please stop hurting Jon? Or talking about hurting him? I would like my Archivist to not acquire any more scars.

🔥: damn

Peter Lukas: damn 😔

Elias keeps trying to teach Jon how to pick certain victims to feed off of because personally he has no qualms about feeding from innocents but Jon!! actually trusts him!!! so Elias doesn't want to push Jon into making decisions that will offend his moral sensitivities.

things are actually going okay for a while. Elias starts going home at a reasonable time in the evenings and Jon is actually getting some sleep. and then-

Elias is having a nice dream about Peter trying to fish Simon Fairchild out of a sky filled with eyes when he abruptly sits up in bed, wide awake.

"Ah, fuck," he says to Peter, who is laying on the floor where it is Lonelier™. "Jon's doing something stupid. I Know it."

Peter's mumbled "isn't he always" goes unnoticed as Elias hurries to the Institute, where he finds a fucking rib on Jon's desk and the coffin in the middle of the room.

Peter Lukas has named the chat 'archivists ruin my sleep schedule and my sex life'

JMagnus 👀: What the fuck do I do?? I can't go into the Buried! Why is Jon so stupid? I didn't know he had zero braincells when I hired him!

🔥: ngl why havent you fired him yet

JMagnus 👀: Beholding won't let me. We're all bound to the Institute.

🔥: F

JMagnus 👀: Why are there no Buried avatars in here? Please someone help me.

mike n ike: lol the buried is gross why would anyone go down there

spidey🕸: does he have an anchor?

[JMagnus 👀 sent an image]

🔥: is that a fucking rib

spidey🕸: wow that's not a good anchor at all

spidey🕸: he needs someone he loves

JMagnus 👀: Thanks. Gtg.

spidey🕸: np

🔥: are we not going to talk about his rib

🔥: how the fuck did he get that out of his body

🔥: yall

🔥: YALL

it takes three days for Elias to find Martin.

"Please tell me why the fuck you're dabbling in the Lonely," Elias says as Martin steps sheepishly out of the fog.

"Ah. Well. Jon can't See into it very well and sometimes we like to spice up our se-"

"Stop before I have to gouge my eyes out again."

"A-Again-?"

Elias drags Martin back to the Institute. Martin starts setting tapes on the coffin because "Jon loves these" and Elias starts bashing his head into the wall.

Jon climbs out of the coffin with Daisy and Elias almost considers locking Jon in his office so the damn archivist can't do anything else ridiculous. instead, Elias very calmly takes Jon by the shoulders, and shakes him like a rag doll.

"Stop fucking with entities, you stupid, stupid man," Elias says, shaking Jon more viciously now.

after several hours of breathing exercises Elias returns to his house and doesn't take his Sight off of Jon for the rest of the night, which is a fun experience for Peter when he wakes up and finds Elias' bloodshot eyes staring directly at him in the morning.

JMagnus 👀 added Daisy to 'archivists ruin my sleep schedule and my sex life'

Peter Lukas has named the chat 'archivist hate club'

JMagnus 👀 has named the chat 'shut up peter'

Peter Lukas has named the chat 'you love jon more than me'

JMagnus 👀 has named the chat 'I don't love either of you I'm heartless'

Peter Lukas has named the chat 'I want a divorce'

spidey🕸: jeez take your marital dispute elsewhere

spidey🕸 has named the chat 'lonelyeyes dni'

Daisy: wtf is this

mike n ike: it's a chat for avatars

mike n ike: and ex avatars ig

Daisy: didn't I kill you

mike n ike: yea

JMagnus 👀: Hello, Daisy. Welcome to the group chat.

Daisy: why is Jon not in here

Peter Lukas: because I hate him 😁

spidey🕸: Elias talks mad shit in here and Jon would get offended

Daisy: if you talk bad about Jon I'll rip your throat out

Daisy: :)

JMagnus 👀: Noted.

mike n ike: he's kinda rude tho

Daisy: I've killed you once

Elias' only goal now is to keep Jon and his assistants from pulling any more wild stunts without his supervision. his renewed involvement with the archival staff results in a few things he'd hoped to avoid: drink invites, physical contact (Martin is surprisingly quick to start hugging Elias once he realizes Elias won't stop him), and- shudder -feelings. because Elias genuinely cares about his staff and doesn't want any harm to befall them. especially Jon. Jon is his Archivist, the only one to ever succeed like this, and Elias will be damned if he lets anything happen to him.

"Why do you care?" Jon asks, once, compulsion thrumming like static on his tongue. "About us, I mean. I would've assumed you'd want to perform the Beholding's ritual."

Jonah Magnus attempted the Watcher's Crown once, when he was young and new. he'd brought his patron close, but not all the way through, and the backlash of power killed all the inmates at Millbank and severely crippled Jonah's connection to the Eye for months afterward. he grew to assume that the Beholding simply preferred the world as it was--ripe with fear for watching. it didn't need a ritual.

he instead dedicated himself to growing stronger, cultivating his Institute of knowledge, his stronghold. if he tore out a few people's eyes when he got too old, then, well, collateral. but he doesn't want the world to end, and knows now that no ritual will ever succeed unless it brings in all the Powers at once. and he doesn't want that either.

it's concerning to him that Jon seems to be collecting marks regardless. the only ones he's missing are the Dark and the Lonely, and Elias is determined to keep it that way.

he explains all of this to Jon who, to his credit, takes it pretty well. Jon is fascinated with historic life and Elias spends some time simply recounting tales of his youth, when he still bore the name Magnus.

they bond. it's good.

and one day Basira does a little too much research and discovers the dark sun waiting in Ny Alesund. she insists they need to go and see what's left of the People's Church, they need to ensure everything is taken care of. Jon is rather insistent too. and Elias wouldn't have been inclined to let them go, except Peter was finally home after weeks at sea, and it wasn't like Jon was defenseless, he could call Elias if anything went wrong...

so, very reluctantly, Elias gives them the all clear. Basira, Jon, and Martin head north, and Elias almost forgets they've gone when he arrives home and Peter already has dinner prepared.

Jon comes back marked by the Dark.

Elias curses himself, over and over, for being foolish enough to let them go, for not keeping a closer eye on them. he knows the ritual won't work unless a certain incantation is spoken, so he'll just have to keep world-ending written chants away from Jon. easy. and it's not like Jon will even get marked by the Lonely. Peter wouldn't.

(but Martin doesn't have the same level of control, and sometimes...)

it's an accident. Martin and Jon are testing it, pushing the boundaries, when Martin pulls them both into the Lonely. Elias threatens divorce until Peter caves and fetches them, but it's too late. Jon has been marked by all fourteen Powers.

Elias tells him, and warns him to check everything he reads.

helen!!!!! has named the chat 'apocalypse babey'

JMagnus 👀: How are you doing that?

JMagnus 👀: And the apocalypse is not imminent. I have the situation under control.

olive ⚰: ha yeah

JMagnus 👀: What do you mean by that?

olive ⚰: nothing

JMagnus 👀: Well, now I certainly think it's something.

olive ⚰: it's just

olive ⚰: don't you think it's kinda weird that @spidey🕸 has been offline for so long

🔥: thats weird shes always online

JMagnus 👀: Oliver, what are you implying?

olive ⚰: idk

olive ⚰: just weird, that's all

🔥: never good when the spiders are quiet

olive ⚰: hear hear

Elias gets a sinking feeling in his stomach, and beside him, Peter looks alarmed. meanwhile, in his flat with Martin making tea in the other room, Jon has a statement clutched in his grasp.

Hello, Jon.

I would apologize for the deception, but I'm afraid that's quite what I'm good at. I'm not one to monologue, that's more Jonah's shtick, so shall we get on with things?

I admit I underestimated Jonah Magnus. He's still remarkably easy to manipulate, but when he abandoned the Watcher's Crown ritual I knew I would have to take a different approach. The Mother is not so satisfied with the world as she may have insinuated. It is our turn to rise, Jon.

At the age of eight, you were marked by us. We sent you to the Magnus Institute in the hopes that a new Archivist would rekindle Jonah's desire to end the world. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he grew fond of you, and so we brought in a new plan. We marked you. One fear at a time. Jonah gave an admirable attempt at protecting you, but ultimately, he is an incompetent old fool, and I am a Weaver. Even Jonah Magnus dances to invisible strings.

Everyone underestimates a spider until it bites. Poison is poison, Jon, regardless of the medium in which it is served.

You will be safe in this new world. Martin, too. Perhaps even Jonah and his Lukas, if the Mother deems them worthy.

Now, please repeat after me...

Jon reads the ink scratched words, eyes welling up with tears and hands trembling, as thunder crashes outside and a howling gale picks up beyond the windows. Martin is shouting something, there's the crawling press of Elias' gaze as it rests heavy behind Jon, a silent observer. He can feel Elias' soothing presence, cool and calm in the raging storm.

Elias is still watching out for him.

Strings are wrapped around his wrists, jerking his arms up in a poor mockery of religious regard, strange hysterical laughter clawing out from his throat.

Jon's tears run red. Somewhere, Elias is still watching.

The door opens.

[soudam-appreciation]

Study... date?

Gundam sighed, shrugging his overweight backpack over his shoulder. He had not planned for today to become a social one, though he supposed it was not quite unwelcome. The mortal known as Kazuichi, Tamer of Automatons, had requested his presence here, though for precisely what ritual, Gundam did not know.

Kazuichi leaned back in his chair and rested his legs atop of the table as he inhaled the overwhelming (and honestly, kinda gross) scent of old and new books as he waited for Gundam to hurry the fuck up and get to the library, because he really didn’t have all day. 

He perked up, though, when he saw a small flash of purple and black move by one of the bookshelves he sat next to. Souda stood, waving his hands frantically in an attempt to catch the goth boy’s attention, not wanting to call out and cause more of a scene than the literal highlighter waving his hands sporadically like he was at a concert.

The neon blur tugged at Gundam’s peripheral, and he crossed his arms before him. Facing the boy, he began a usual greeting. “At last, you have been found. Do you not fear this meeting, Fool?” His voice boomed and echoed through the stacks, inciting an annoyed rustle and collective whisper.

Kazuichi’s eyes went wide as he started rapidly shushing him, because if him basically jumping up and down trying to get Gundam to notice him didn’t draw attention to the two, Gundam basically shouting definitely did. Speaking as softly as he could considering how badly his heart rate spiked, he tried to get him to quiet down.

“D-dude! Shut- shut the- Don’t! Stop fuckin’....fuckin’ screaming like that! Jesus! Shudda’...shut the- shut the fuck up! Shhh!” 

Recollection of the location at hand hit Gundam with a hell-strength impact. Clearing his throat, he hurriedly glanced around, mumbling fractured apologies for his forgetfulness. If there was one thing that would make even the Dark Overlord himself bow, it would be intense embarrassment as a direct result of his own foolishness- not that he would even say such a thing. To allow enemies access to his weakness?! Preposterous. He whispered a short apology to Souda as well, for the mortal seemed far more distraught than he. 

Souda groaned softly, rubbing his face with his hands for a few moments before bouncing back almost as fast, a lazy grin plastered across his face. That didn’t stop the drop of malice and embarrassment showing through in his cheerful voice as he pushed out a chair next to the one he was leaning on before to invite Gundam to sit with him. 

There were a lot of books, papers, pens and one lone computer scattered across the table. Souda easily pushed these aside as he sat down to take a sip of his…something. 

Gundam followed suit, dropping his bag on the floor beside him as he took his seat. He was not entirely sure what they were to do on this day, although crawling deep underground was an option he prayed upon. Unzipping his backpack as soundlessly as he could, he retrieved a notepad and slid a simple message to his companion.

What, pray tell, have you summoned me for?

Kazuichi read it over before snatching the notepad from Gundam’s hand, as well as the fancy pen he had (despite there being many writing utensils of his own he could’ve used, he honestly just wanted to be a bit of a dick to his past rival). He scrawled something quickly on it and slid it back nervously, despite there being no teachers nor rules against slipping each other notes. 

ok, well, i asked u 2 come here bc i am fucking failing math and biology and there r these 2 tests cming up i need u 2 help me study for. i thought u’d know a lot abt biology and u seem smart ig so-

He ripped another blank note out to write on more.

-so i thought u could help with, math too. hinata won’t help me he’s mad i spilt monster on his laptop still even though that was a whole day ago :(

The writing was barely legible and Kazuichi seemed to shorten words as best as he could, since he also wrote very large on the small sheet of paper. He slid the second note to Tanaka for him to read.

Squinting, Gundam managed to make out Souda’s print. He sighed, briefly wondering how incompetent Souda actually was, and where to even begin studying. Retrieving his pen, albeit a bit forcefully, he turned to a new page and began his transmission.

Where should we begin? Is there a specific field in which you have little expertise?

As Souda read over the note in the pretty cursive handwriting, he let out a small giggle. He couldn’t help it, reading Gundam’s dumbass Overlord-victorian speak was somehow funnier than hearing it out loud. Snatching the pen and paper back, he started writing.

uh um well i never ever got algebra the little letters always confused me and in biology kind of everything. man i’m not good with that kinda shit like u i’ve seen ur grades you don’t know how 2 whisper when ur flaunting them to sonia lol

Gundham’s ears got hot, and he fidgeted with the end of his scarf. Grabbing his pen, he scribbled out, I do no such thing. I simply share because I am asked, that should be a simple concept to grasp. His scrawl was messier, his haste blurring his senses. Deep breaths stilled his hostility, and he turned to a new page.

So shall we begin with variables, then? You may need to work exceptionally hard to recall these, as no doubt it will be of importance. 

Once again, Kazuichi laughed as he watched Gundam get a little pissed at the Sonia comment. Even when they were slowly getting closer, messing with the guy still yielded hilarious results.

come on man!!!! why r u getting so pissy i’m just teasing u. u know i know that u know we aren’t rivals anymore so calm down!!!!! >:3

anyways uhh ya sure we can start w, variables ig. i don’t remember a lot of this stupid ass math lingo so ur gonna need to remind me some of it.

Variables are those “little letters” you spoke of. If something I mention confuses you, alert me at once. 

Gundam chose to ignore all of Souda’s previous statement, focusing instead on the task at hand. There did not seem a logical reason to become so frustrated when Souda spoke of her. So why did it ignite a hellfire in his chest? 

He shook off the thought, selecting a standard textbook from his oversized backpack and placing it on the table with a thunk. Opening to a page about Variables, the most annoying of unknowns, he slid the book across for Souda’s viewing ease. 

We should begin here, page 28. Do you have a journal for notes?

yeah that’s fine also do u mind me keeping our notes or atleast yours please plz plsssss

Sure enough, the smaller boy was already making a pile of the discarded notes they had forgotten about. Mostly Gundams. It was the only neat thing on the table thus far.

Sighing again, Gundam ceded. He had no use for them, anyway. It caught his attention as slightly strange, but he chose to pay it no mind. Scratching out what information he could on such a small surface, he quickly realized that simply would not work. He slid a mostly-empty notebook from his bag and selected a blank page to share with Souda. It wasn’t as if he really needed the pages in this notebook either, so he added a small note at the top offering the torn-out pages for outside studying.

Souda took the page and studied it, before brightly grinning up at Gundam and quickly nodding. This was fancy shit, definitely not something extremely expensive (he knew Gundam definitely wouldn’t dare share that kind of paper, seeing the small slightly-faded stains of car oil on his hands that he just couldn’t scrub out) but Souda probably wouldn’t be buying these things, especially for every class, without at least a week of ramen dinners to make up for the waste of money working at his Dads mechanic shop.

Souda suddenly realized that ‘fancy shit’ to a slightly broke kid like him was definitely not ‘fancy shit’ to Gundam “I don’t know how to dress casually Ever” Tanaka.

Gundam continued to script line after line, attempting to explain these subjects in terms Souda would understand. The look in Souda’s eyes gnawed at him, such excitement on display over some math notes. He wasn’t certain what rubbed him wrong about it, so he brushed it aside. Reaching the bottom of the page, he printed a small question. 

Do you still understand thus far?

Souda finally grabbed one of his own pens that lay discarded on the table instead of stealing Gundams.

yeah i get it u explain it a lot better than the teachers or chiaki despite ur little demon talk r whatever lol. chiaki use to help me like all the time but she kept falling asleep on me we never got anything done

Reading Souda’s message tempted laughter, and Gundam bit his cheek to silence it. Nodding sagely, he scrawled, As likely as you are to bend truths pertaining to women, this account does seem trustworthy. He knew just as well as anyone how exhausted Chiaki constantly seemed. 

Tugging the newly completed page from its binds, Gundam offered it to Souda as well. 

Souda looked almost offended by the note (he still took it, because of course he did) and hastily scribbled another and shoved it in Gundams chest with a grin.

WOW DICK i’m not gonna go after every girl that falls asleep on me!!! sonia hasn’t fallen asleep on me yet and you know!!!!! >:(((((( 

Gundam stiffened, bandaged hand safely out of sight under the table. If it had been visible, Souda would have a clear view of numb fingers folding against his palm before stretching into claws, over and over. Another deep breath was necessitated by his pounding heart, and he stilled his mind. There was no reason for this feeling. What possible purpose could this rush of adrenaline serve? Certainly nothing pertaining to math. He cleared his throat again, which ended up sounding a bit more like a growl, and took up his pen.

You say “yet”, as if there is even the slightest chance of such an occurrence in the future. This, I do know. A smug smirk crossed his face, daring to settle on his lips.

Souda pouted as he read the note, a somehow adorable sight as he quickly snagged Gundams pen again (once again ignoring his own) and scrawled something on a new note and shoved it back to him. 

nuh-uh! u don’t know shit. unless u can see the future!!! tell me tell me tell me. maybe ur freaky demon shit is real after all ANYWAYS do i end up w miss sonia plz please tell me??!?? :3

Gundam tasted blood as he bit his lip hard. Why was Souda so insistent on her? No, he knew why. She was aesthetically pleasing to someone like him. This was not new information, but it still irked Gundam like hell. He pursed his lips. The last thing he was going to do was tell Souda his pathetic simpering dreams would come true in the end. Or perhaps, the last thing he wanted would be to admit to Souda that he cannot truly see the future? Grumbling, he snatched his pen back and tapped it against his knuckles. Neither option was preferred, though one was a clear admission of weakness…

He settled on a third choice. Of course not. I know precisely who you shall fall for in the end, although I cannot tell you. That is the Law of Causality.

actually it’s the law of cASSuaslity because ur an asshole who the fuck cares why can’t u just tell me!!! if i don’t get with miss sonia or whatever u say i don’t even know if i completely believe ur bonkers shit why can’t u just tell me their name or anything i just!!! want a hint. please 

Kazuichi’s handwriting grew sloppier as he grew more desperate. Why the fuck was Gundam hiding it? It’s not like he’s gonna get suspended for some random ‘law’ or whatever he probably made up. He didn’t even know what the word Causality meant but it sounded exactly like a freaky word Gundam would say.

All I may tell you is that… Gundam paused, wiggling his pen between thumb and forefinger to come up with an excuse. …you have likely already made their acquaintance. All trace of smugness had dropped from his features, now replaced with stale indifference. He locked his worry deep in his chest, buried it. The last thing he needed was Souda to call him out on such a ridiculously big lie.

Souda didn’t know why, but he grinned at that. He grinned at a lot of dumb shit, and Gundam telling him some vague dumbass answer like that was apparently dumb enough to get on his list of Dumb Shit That Made Him Grin. He flicked Gundams note into his ever growing pile and chugged the rest of his drink, his eyes blown wide with the sudden rush of, apparently, sugar. He tapped the textbook again, trying to remind them both to stay on task. His hands were starting to shake too much from the sugar high to make writing any good.

Gundam nodded. They needed to focus on the task at hand.. Which was math. Boring math. Another sigh settled in his chest, and he thought fleetingly on how he would much rather talk about silly magic business. Shaking dramatically dual-toned hair from his eyes, he set to scribbling some more numbers. Stupid, boring numbers. 

Kazuichi watched with interest as Gundam quickly drew out complex strings of numbers and occasional letters. However, his mind quickly drifted as well as his eyes. Higher and higher until he was watching Gundam’s facial expressions shift as he tried to help Souda. How he bit his lip as he hesitated before continuing to keep writing, how his eyes narrowed, Souda half-mindedly thought of how pretty Tanaka’s eyes were, he could get lost in them if he really wanted to, and he did. So he simply tuned out the sound of pen against pencil, rustling of paper and the occasional whisper between others in the library and just stared into his eyes.

Sliding another page across the table, Gundam glanced up at Souda’s face, before they quickly flicked away. On the quickly growing list of things he did Not Want to happen today, was for Souda to catch him staring. Or- he paused. To catch… Souda staring? He didn’t want to look again, even if he was right, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as if he could feel Souda’s gaze. Ears growing red, he scripted a small note back, faltering slightly as nerves made his fingers stiff. 

Do you still understand well enough?

Kazuichi’s gaze didn’t move until he finally noticed Gundam actually wrote words down. He did a double take back at his face before he picked up his pen, his cheeks heating up. Shit, did Gundam catch him looking? His hands trembled slightly from the sugar and caffeine as he scribbled on the paper.

yeah i understand completely ur a good teacher  i already said that didn’t i sorry

He slid the note over, now doing his best to keep his eyes on the table and not on Gundam.

Do not fret, I am pleased you understand. 

Clearing his throat as quietly as he could, he returned to numbers. Gundam really tried to focus, he did. But he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering… Muscle memory served him well, and he continued to write, but his mind’s eye strayed from questioning Souda’s gaze, to wondering why keeping their notes tidy was so important, to the way Souda tapped his fingers on the desk ever so slightly, the sugar and caffeine running rampant through his veins. It soon became impossible to focus, and he started mixing up numbers and crossing them out. He shook his head, hard, mumbling apologies for scrambling up his figures. 

Kazuichi easily picked up Gundams distraction and yanked an empty note from him to write on.

do u wanna stop for today

He slid it over, giving Gundam a small smile as he did. He wasn’t unfamiliar with his brain getting jumbled and melting into mush and before he knew it, the day was over and he hadn’t got shit done. So he didn’t mind giving up for today, starting again tomorrow or next week. He just liked being with Gundam, kinda. As weird as that was. 

Gundam nodded. 

My sincerest apologies, I seem to have lost my senses…

What the hell had gotten into him? This was highly unusual for him. Gundam mumbled another quiet sorry, sliding the incomplete and jumbled page across to Kazuichi just in case he needed it anyway. 

Souda tidied everything up on the desk, sliding his books, computer and the notes into his black backpack. As he stood, he bounced on his heels, the caffeine suddenly taking full effect as he finally got out of the chair and could move around to his heart's desire. He slid his backpack over one of his shoulders and didn’t hesitate to start playing with one of the enamel pins of a vocaloid character that hung from the zipper, needing something to occupy his hands with.

Gundam stood as well, fumbling as he slipped the last notebook into his bag. Offering a hand, he gestured towards the door. He whispered, “Shall we meet again tomorrow, then? I swear I shall do better at my job.” 

Kazuichi laughed softly at that, nodding. His hands fiddled with his jumpsuit pockets as he made his way over to Tanaka, a small bounce in his step. He would definitely blame that and what he did next on the overload of caffeine in his system the next day. He put his hands on Gundams shoulders, slightly dragging him down as he stood on his tippy-toes, kissing him sweetly on the lips before he was already skipping towards the door, waving him bye as he exited, most likely to his dorm on campus.

Blood froze in his veins. Gundam’s heart pounded, throbbing in his ears. His face was beyond red, and his stiffened fingers twitched in surprise. Mouth opening and closing like a fish, he could not even will his feet to carry him after the boy. What… What just… happened? His mind felt as slow and sluggish as if it was buffering through a torrented movie file. 

Finally gathering enough control of his own limbs, he pulled himself through the door. He wanted desperately to give chase, to pull Souda into his arms and kiss him back, but he knew there was no possible way he would keep his courage. So he settled, simply deciding upon returning to his own abode. He would have to speak to Souda at their meeting tomorrow. Just thinking about it gave him… butterflies? Oh dear, what an unpleasant sensation.

. . .

Thank you @kazudam for writing with me! This was so much fun, and something I’ve always wanted to do :’) 

[odysseushateblog]

question for the marvel community on tumblr

so uh,, i have a strong feeling the x-men are gonna be done dirty by disney, by adding them to the mcu and fucking around w characters/timelines, and focusing on characters they believe are the most profitable, instead of the ones that have good stories behind them,, i guess??

so?? i do a lot of writing. i dabble in that shit,, it’s fun?? and i wanna screenwrite one day, or write novels, or comics?? or soMETHING along those lines, and i was wondering if anyone would be interested in seeing the planning/little draft scenes from an x-men show i’m writing??

it centres around the o5 (mostly) and is set somewhere in the 80s/90s for the sake of Wanting Magneto And The Professor To Have Beef and all that good stuff. it’s not really about supervillains and huge, world-ending stuff, but about the o5 and their unique perspectives on the very hateful world around them. it’s really rambly and gross but if u wanna read little blurbs about the reworked o5 x-men and their origins then idk keep reading this cesspit of a post.

bobby is essentially the goofy little brother of the x-men, and hank mccoy’s best friend. i’ve got the show focused mainly on him at this point, purely because he’s the youngest of the x-men, and it makes sense for him to be the audience’s introduction to the world of mutants, and their perspectives. his ice powers are a bit of a metaphor for his ‘awkward teenage phase’, as he has a tendency to ‘freeze up’ in social situations (especially those which warren worthington iii is involved in). since it was revealed in uncanny x-men 600 (from memory) that bobby was gay, and thinks angel is ‘hot’, that’s something i wanna focus on, especially the turmoil that bobby will feel when he’s forced to work with archangel, who LOOKS like warren (to a degree) but acts totally differently, and the conflict he’ll feel regarding warren at the time.

jean’s personality isn’t just ‘girl’, and NOBODY has weird random crushes on her (looking @ u prof. x. god the 60s was a weird time for comics) she’s dealing with terrifying telekinetic episodes, which are a manifestation of her desire to do well in life, as well as the death of her best friend (which i believe happened in canon somewhere?? as the event that triggered her powers) who she feels immense guilt for wanting to move on from. her telepathy manifests towards the end of the first episode, when she’s hanging out with bobby drake, and ends up listening in on a conversation between erik and charles, which they’re having telepathically.

hank’s struggle is with wanting to balance his intelligence and his physical strength. he wants to be the beast, and he enjoys it, but he also wants to be recognised and appreciated for his intelligence, which is often overlooked. hank is the most outwardly pessimistic of the group - his intelligence has made him very aware of the world around him, and the nature of the people in it. he doesn’t believe in the professor’s dream, and makes no effort to keep it a secret, though he does stay with the x-men for a reason.

playing with scott and his origin has been REALLY cool, as he’s the only x-man in this group with a power that is innately destructive. his perspective because of that is unique. he understands why mutants are feared for their abilities, because HE fears his abilities. scott’s probably the most distant from his teammates, as he’s sort of taken on the leader role, and prior to the series beginning, he’s taken on training obsessively - to the point where he’s unable to stand due to exhaustion, and mf warren and hank have to drag him out of the danger room. scott believes that his training is what’s gonna keep his teammates alive - he knows he’ll feel responsible if something happens to one of them. he’s got to come to terms with the fact that he can’t help his team as a tactician if he’s unsure of himself. mr. scotty’s gotta learn that he’s never gonna be able to see the full picture if he’s afraid to open his eyes.

warren, who is considered to be the ‘most boring’ of the original five x-men underwent a lot of work here. warren never really had a stable home environment, as he moved around from boarding school to boarding school, as his stupid parkour hobby got more and more dangerous, and out of hand. warren’s got a lot of internalised self-hatred, due to the stance his family took on mutants. he was raised to hate mutants, and therefore himself. warren parties a lot, and ditches the x-men at the mansion to go hang out with normal people, but as time goes on he knocks this off, he becomes increasingly close to jean grey, and eventually the pair hit it off,, platonically. under his cocky playboy persona, warren’s sweet and sensitive, but he’s got a violent streak a mile wide, a nasty temper, and is recklessly brave.

i’ve obviously thought about some characters more than others but?? idk i’m enjoying it. i’ve got stupid ideal cast ideas (which isn’t gonna happen they’re just face holders) and individual sub-plots set up for each character. i watched skins recently, and i’m drawn to that structure?? where each episode follows a character a little bit, so it’s sort of set up like that.

FUCK anyway if u enjoyed n wanna see more comment ig and i’ll drop stuff >:)

[terezis]

okay she-ra thoughts under the cut (spoilers)

it was all so very good that i don’t even know what to gush about (yes i do) (that kiss???) it is just so fucking wild and marvelous to me that noelle stevenson took such a huge ip and revamped it into such a great fuckin, gay ass love story. bc that’s what it is, huh. is a fuckin GAY ASS LOVE STORY AND IT MADE ME CRY WITH HOW GREAT IT WAS

the second thing i want to gush about is LMAO I STILL REALLY FUCKING LOVE ENTRAPTA/HORDAK... THAT MOMENT AT THE VERY END WAS SO CUTE I WISH THERE’D BEEN MORE... 

between him and wrong hordak i hope entrapta gets an entire harem of clone-based “””lab assistants””” because l m a o... I REALLY LOVED WRONG HORDAK TOO HE WAS SO CUTE...

also that moment in episode 3 where catra saves glimmer is GOD. GOD!!! i’m going to be rewatching that every day for like a fucking month it was the shit i am all about.

also LMAO I REALLY WASN’T SERIOUSLY EXPECTING GLIMMER/BEAU TO BE FOR REAL END GAME THOUGH??? i really thought it was going to be catra and adora and that’s it, but nah they fuckin went there huh. i do not see the appeal but u know what man it’s fine yall do you.

my only complaint is that i can’t believe shadoweaver sacrificed herself for catra??? because i personally had been hoping either she or adora would get to do a murder, but i get why they wouldn’t swing that LOL... at the very least i wasn’t expecting the sacrifice to be so overt. 

i’m not UPSET about it but it did make me a little uncomfortable in the moment, like i don’t think catra really needed her "caring” in the end and tbh if an abusive parental figure sacrificed themselves to save me like that... i’d just be kind of mad. i’d feel gross about it. LMAO. this isn’t a redemption for me imo. oh well

anyways.

THAT KISS THOUGH

i’m just gonna keep adding to this post as i think of things:

edit 1: also i do kind of wish we’d found out just a LITTLE bit more about where adora came from, like i don’t need a backstory for her bio family or whatever but horde prime did kind of say all first ones were extinct? clearly not though because ADORA HAD TO COME FROM SOMEWHERE

like narratively ig it doesn’t matter much especially since it’s stressed so hard that her origins weren’t as important as her Found Family... 

IT’S JUST GONNA BOTHER ME THOUGH... IT SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU DON’T BRING UP UNLESS IT’S GOING TO COME BACK AGAIN LATER... 

edit 4: ok i went back and rewatched part of episode 5 and he does say “some faction must remain” so I GUESS IT’S FINE............ LOL

edit 2: also guys... short haired catra... is so fucking cute

edit 3: i keep coming back with complaints but i promise i really liked it LOL... BUT DAMN I GUESS ANGELLA’S REALLY GONE, HUH??? I REALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE GOING TO BRING HER BACK SINCE SHE’S JUST “TRAPPED IN THE IN-BETWEEN OF A PORTAL” AND NOT “OUTRIGHT DEAD” 

BUT THEY REALLY FRIDGED THAT MOM HUH... LMAO...

edit 5: i just keep thinkin bout how this whole show was definied by catra and adora’s relationship... their SO VERY QUEER RELATIONSHIP... THAT THIS SERIES CULMINATED IN THEM KISSING AND EXCHANGING I LOVE YOUS.......... IT’S SO FUCKIN......... DANG

like we have garnet and we have, like, korrasami... but this feels... More i guess? this time the show was ABOUT them. it was ABOUT this relationship. korrasami always felt rly shoved in at the end, i love it but this feels LOL IDK JUST... MORE! IT’S A LOT!!! IT’S REALLY GOOD AND IMPORTANT TO ME

[uriduriragwaenchana]

"are you staying?"  ||  NCT Dream (a)

warnings: .. alcohol. And blood. Implied physical violence

genre: angstyyyish but not really not at all ig

summary:

~They weren’t bad kids. Not really anyways. They hopped trains and rode borrowed bikes in abandoned warehouses and stole gross energy drinks from corner stores. They were no one’s nemesis. Except maybe the old ladies who ran the corner stores. 

~Your trouble-maker of a foster brother didn’t always ask when he crawled through your bedroom window at all odd hours of the night.

words: 2.7k

a/n: I’ve never posted a fic on here before so I’m not entirely familiar with what perspectives are acceptable(?) Anyways ta-da I’d like to thank the dreamies for adequate inspiration in the form of the masterpiece that was go and admin b, for trying an failing to help.

°•°

You woke up the second the window across the tiny room started creaking out of habit, not really moving for fear of stirring the young girl laying next to you on the tiny bed; but just awake, eyes open and attempting to adjust to the darkness. To be honest, you didn’t think you were even really sleeping in the first place. It was kind of hard to with the sound of breaking dishes and yelling as a substitute for white noise in the background for the past however long… You’d stopped counting.

You lay there though, forgetting for a moment to be realistic and hoped for the creaking to mean that he’d come back. That maybe he was lonely or tired or– as shitty as it sounded– maybe he’d fought with his friends and needed somewhere to run away to. Or somewhere to run back to. You huffed and shifted, hating the way you’d sounded to yourself just then despite not being able to help it. He would come back if and only if he wanted to. You shouldn’t wish bad for him or his relationship with his friends. You pushed the thoughts away as quickly as they’d come and settled in, curling into yourself as much as you could on the small bed you shared and made an effort to get some sleep.

“Pssssst–”

Without a second thought, you bolted upright and hurled the rock hard pillow above your head on the bed at the window across the room. It slammed into the glass with a hard thump, just barely missing the boy’s stomach and landing on the floor beside him noisily. He curled over regardless, folding into himself and hissing exaggeratedly.

“You asshole!” Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! You let out in an infuriated whisper, crawling off the bed and marching as quietly as you could to where the boy was faking his own death. You wanted to scream at him and hit him more than you wanted to hug him or apologize for almost decapitating him but you were a nasty mix of angry and sad and for the sake of the three other people in the room you tried to keep your voice down. More than those two emotions though, you were happy to see your brother again, if only for a little while since he tended to keep his visits brief and mostly cordial on good days. Infrequent and fleeting. You hated it.

He was wearing the strangest mix of clothing you’d ever seen on him that involved an odd, metallic puffy vest that shone in the moonlight over top a shirt that melded with the darkness, suede violet sweats, tinted glasses of the same colour and an assortment of fine silver chains around his neck. He looked good. Certainly not like he’d missed much about the family that wasn’t really his or the old boot camp.

“What a greeting,” the boy drawled, standing upright again and staring down at the small girl in front of him. “You know you could have killed me with that thing. Next time I just won’t come.”

Then, you did hit him, hard on his bicep causing him to stumble backward slightly at most. Your immediate response to his threat was to give him an earful; go on the defensive and agree with him, knowing full well that was probably the most explosive out of all your options. It would only make him run away again like the last time you'd fought. You didn’t want to fight with him, he really would stay away. And for much longer this time. There was a beat where you both stared in silence; you, just thinking about another way to ask him to cut this shit out and him, just observing you, always ready and itching for any excuse to flee.

The silence was uncustomary and short-lived, as it always was during the night at boot camp. Something was severely wrong if it was ever silent here and you both knew that.

Large, heavy steps thundered up the stairway in a familiar gait, quick and strangely agile. They were sloppy and inconsistent, but terrifying all the same and sounded like a beating. Without fail, your pulse sped up to match in a millisecond. You exchanged a look, as the two of you had maybe done in situations like this way too many times to count. It was brief and heavy with recognition before you started to move in tandem. A breath didn’t seem to pass before you’d grabbed and stuffed the boy that tumbled through the bedroom window only just a few minutes ago into the tiny closet hurriedly; before he could protest, or whine about how stuffy it was or how it smelled like dead things, or even before he attempted to hop out the window, back the way he’d came. Neither of those were good options but you were short on time and the pounding in your ears made it hard to think properly. You made the small lunge back to the window and put your fingers to the cold pane just as the door slammed viciously against the wall. You turned around then, watching the massive figure that blocked almost all the light from the hallway from coming in and who’d let all the stale air in. Alcohol fumes seemed to waft from him as he surveyed the room with eyes, heavy-lidded from intoxication, sniffing and swaying lightly on his feet, before he zeroed in on you, bringing his hand up to point. His knuckles were swollen and bloodied. You could tell; even in the darkness.

“What are you doing over there, brat?” He mumbled, trying his utmost to keep his eyes open. You weren’t fooled by him when he was this way. The General wasn’t stupid and so you steeled yourself.

“A bat got in again.” The lie was easy. It wouldn’t have been a month ago, but you live and you learn when you were stowed away in a house where you weren’t welcome and were only necessary for a cheque. Anyways it wasn’t like you were even really lying; bats and other things did tend to wander into the room and that was only because they’d refused your request to get it fixed.

The man stumbled in a few steps, halting only to run a hand through his choppy buzz cut and eye the sleeping bodies on the two small beds suspiciously. Out of habit, you stepped forward in front of the closer cot defensively. He snapped his attention back to you briefly, glaring, intimidating, before turning around and leaving the room, slamming the door shut and mumbling something about not waking his children. A breath escaped you involuntarily, rushing past your lips and puffing up into the cold night’s air, a hand coming up to your chest in an attempt to calm your nerves.

This would never not be terrifying.

You turned around to the closet just as the boy inched out, his eyes wide with an emotion you’d witnessed too many times to count on his face-- after you’d pulled him out of the lake when you were both nine, or when you’d lied to your teachers for him so he’d get to go on a field trip when you were twelve or after the numerous times you’d taken open-handed kisses from the General for him. It was something like admiration. Something a little like strange affection and very faint gratitude. Something a little like awe. You’d always ignored it. There was never any need to think too deeply on it.

He kept staring and inching closer, until you were just about an arm’s length apart. He didn’t speak and neither did you as you both stood still, listening to the footsteps descending the creaky stairway, until they vanished and the fighting resumed some seconds later.

A giggle bubbled up from somewhere deep in his chest and at the baritone sound, you doubled over, laughing until the two of you had tears in your eyes and until your sides began to sting as you clung and clawed at air. This was insane, and not the least bit funny as the encounter could’ve ended a lot more violently had the General been in a slightly different disposition. But it was funny because it could have ended differently, and so you two laughed just like you’d always done; even when your face ended up swollen from disciple.

“Still lying to the General are we?” The boy gasped, flicking tears from his eyes under the frames on his face.

You didn’t tell him that you hadn’t had a reason to lie to the General since he’d been gone, instead shoving lightly at his shoulder.

“You’re one to talk,” you bit your tongue, trying your damnedest not to ask him why he’d come. It didn’t matter. He was here now. “I never know when I’m going to see you.”

“That keeps it interesting,” he shrugged, feigning nonchalance, eyes moving around the small room, over the bodies on the beds, the bare walls. He shouldn’t miss anything about boot camp; and yet...

“Not if I don’t at least know if you’re alive.”

“Please,” He rolled his eyes, a movement so loud and natural to him she could tell he was doing it even in the darkness of the night and those tiny tinted glasses you’d deemed were only on his face for aesthetic purposes. There was no way they were useful in the dark. “We’re not criminals. And you shouldn’t worry about me,” he added belatedly, like he’d only just considered that someone in this house could care about him. Your blood sizzled and you took a deep breath.

You should have gotten used to how dense he was before he left. You were torn in every way-- sometimes you wanted him to leave and stay gone so you wouldn’t have to have to do this with him every time. Having to remind him that you did care, very much about his whereabouts was starting to annoy, even you. Sometimes you wanted him around so desperately your chest hurt. Sometimes you wanted to hug him tight enough that exactly how much love and care you felt for him seeped into his bones and burrowed a home there. Sometimes you wanted to strangle him. Sometimes you prayed so hard for his safety and nothing else. Some days you asked the universe to run him over so he’d have no choice but to come back. 

Sometimes, your emotions in extreme scared you. 

“Are you staying?” You knew you shouldn’t have asked. Questions like these always seemed to sting him and start another fight and you immediately chastised yourself. He didn’t seem agitated though and instead, drew his lips and eyebrows together in consideration. This was a new habit, perhaps one he’d picked up from his friends.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, seeming suddenly, smaller and younger than he was.”Do you want me to?”

The question made you start. A few months ago, it’d have been ‘of course not’ or simply ‘no’. What it implied was terrifying.

As much as you wanted to tell him to stay, you knew you couldn’t. It just wasn’t right. His friends gave him confidence. They made him feel like he was invincible and whether or not you wanted to outwardly admit it; they were good for him. You had all the proof you needed; he was glowing, his smiles split across his face, his cheeks flushed and full of life. He’d even gained some weight, a little less sickly and scrawny than he’d been before. You couldn’t remember when you’d last seen him so healthy. More than anything else, they were more of a family to him than the random assortment of backgrounds here. He’d chosen them and they chose him. Over and over again, they kept going back to each other, no matter how big the disagreement. No matter how serious the offence.

But then what were you if not his family?

Sure, you weren’t truly related; shoved together in this house with too many children already, too early in your lives for the sake of a fat cheque in the General’s pockets, you’d learned to love and take care of each other. You didn’t have to; you didn’t have to, but you were older, if only by a few months and wanted to protect him. He’d been so small and rarely ate or laughed.

What were you; who’d chosen him over and over again without question?

If he stayed here, though, like you were choosing to stay here, he wouldn’t survive. If he stayed he’d learn violence from a man who only knew how to express himself this way; who didn’t know how to treat fragile bodies as such and who didn’t care very much for children who weren’t his own. No, the boy in front of you wasn’t built like you, not with your tongue lodged between your teeth and too much stubbornness in your bones. It seemed you’d inherited your nameless mother’s resilience just based on how long you’d managed to survive here. You would last. You had to for the other sleeping bodies stuffed into too small beds. And for him. Whenever he needed you. You’d have to be here to scold him or hold him or hide him or help him. So you could never say you wanted him to stay.

“No,” you scoffed, exaggerating. “Leave before me and the General kick your ass.”

His shoulders fell, but only slightly. If you didn’t know him, his body and his mannerisms so well, you would have missed it altogether it was so imperceptible. He probably hadn’t even noticed he’d done it. He blinked away your words, shrugged and offered you a lopsided smile, sighing like a tired parent.

“You’re so annoying.” his hand came up, running familiarly over his scalp, tussling the hair at the back of his head. You knew this meant he was lying and that made a small smile to crawl across your face. You closed the space between your bodies and reached up, swiftly grabbing the glasses off his face and putting them on, slowly, like you were the star of a drama.

“Yeah, yeah.”  

The world turned the prettiest shade of violet, the light that streamed in through the window that previously bathed him and everything else in faint, pearlescent light was now ethereal and dreamy. This was a colour you only saw at dusk or dawn and it was beautfiul. He chuckled and walked back over to the window, perching on the sill.

“Those were my favourites, but you can keep them. They make even your stupid face look nice,” his lips curled in a cherubic, juvenile smirk as he swung his legs outside, ducking out of your incoming smacks.

“Ha. Ha. You’re right, now I can kind of stand the sight of you,” you jeered childishly, watching him scramble nimbly down the side of the house and over the fence, all while smiling fondly to himself. Beyond the fence, his group of six friends were lingering, waiting for him, littered about with hands in their pockets or crouched low to the ground all equally, strangely dressed. All happy to welcome him back. As soon as he’d breached their little scene, they patted him on the back and whistled, tugging at him and throwing their weight all over him, teasingly.

He turned back only briefly to cast one final gaze at you back in your confinement, before one of the boys; a really dark haired one, tugged on his jacket and the lot of them took off, sprinting into the street. He waved, and without waiting for yours in returned followed and caught up to them. They looked like ghosts from where you were, airy and weightless; appearing and reappearing only when under the orange street lights. Occasionally, they yelled, the sound getting fainter and fainter until you were left with nothing to look at in your mauve-tinted shades other than their long shadows and the echoes they’d left in their wake.

He would be safe with them, you thought.They weren’t bad kids. Not really anyways. They hopped trains and rode borrowed bikes in abandoned warehouses and stole gross energy drinks from corner stores. They were no one’s nemesis. Except maybe the old ladies who ran the corner stores.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ

[mortalkombat4]

All evens

hey anon did you know i love you for interacting with thishell fucking yeah i’m doing this and...without a cut bc i’m on mobile and i don’t know how oh god sorry2: do you forgive the last person who hurt you?yeah i do tbh4: what’s something you really want right now?to have the balls to make out with the person i like instead of hovering Lmao6: do you like the beach?i do! however i much prefer lakes? like. great lakes tho not gross lakes. great lakes are like the beach but without the saltwater it’s honestly the best8: what’s the background on your cell?well my lock screen is klance but my home screen is me and @senpajs bc i’m too emotional at all times10: do you like your phone?yeah!12: who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?a kid named asher in my musical theater class bc i needed him to send me a video14: which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?i think this question is too vague but uhhh i guess emotional pain tends to have longer lasting effects?16: are you tired?for once in my life? no! my mom worked on xmas so our family xmas is tomorrow so it’s like christmas eve for me and i’m Pumped18: is your first phone contact a relative?i mean first person i ever added in my phone was my mom so ig if that’s whomst you mean then yes?20: when did you last talk to the person you last kissed?approximately ten minutes ago about how cassandra from tangled the series is a lesbian22: would you kiss the person you last kissed again?yes please24: is there a certain quote you live by?i don’t live by anything so jot that down26: do you have any tattoos?yep! i have a phoenix quarter sleeve on my upper left arm (it matches my mom’s) and a heartbeat line with a rainbow heart on my right wrist28: next time you will kiss someone on the lips?hopefully thursday, at the latest new year’s eve if he still likes me lmao30: have you ever kissed the last person you kissed on a couch?:) yep32: do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?mhmm! and he’s my best friend too34: has anyone ever told you that you have pretty eyes?yes i have heard this one!36: were you single on valentine’s day?i’ve lived seventeen years on this god forsaken planet and never once had a valentine38: what do your friends call you?my only Usual nickname is kenzie, though i’ve gotten zee, mack, and mom before a few times so40: have you ever cried over a text?like a billion times tbh i mean who hasn’t42: what is your last bruise from?FUCK IF I KNOW! it appeared on my fucking arm out of nowhere!!! what happened!!!44: who was the last person you were on the phone with?texting? @senpajs calling? my mom46: do you wear hats if you’re having a bad hair day?beanies are a godsend yes48: do you make supper for your family?every once in a while, though i usually bake more than cook50: top 3 web pages?most likely tumblr, ao3, and youtube52: does anything on your body hurt?my mouth! i got a canker sore that hates me (i’m getting a medicine for it tomorrow thank god) and my braces are acting up so my mouth hurts like a motherfucker54: what was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?i literally do this so often that i don’t know...probably diet coke56: what do you usually do first thing in the morning?i scroll through twitter or tumblr for a few minutes to wake up my mind tbh58: were you single in january of 2007?bitch i was seven so...yes60: when’s the next time you will give someone a big hug?probs my little sister on thursday when i go stop her back off at her mental health center62: when will be the next time you text someone?most likely whenever i think of something dumb but feel the need to share it with my best friend anyways64: what were you doing at 8 this morning?looking up canker sore cures :(66: is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?@senpajs68: what was your last thought before you went to bed last night?“i’m too tired to translate the spanish music right now”70: how many windows are open on your computer?only 2!!72: what is your ringtone?my phone is constantly on vibrate so i quite genuinely could not tell you74: where is your mom right now?in her room watching kennedy center awards or smth76: have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?not in that time span nope!78: do you remember who you had a crush on in seventh grade?a lanky minecraft loving boy with a bieber haircut named keller whomst eventually became my first boyfriend80: have you ever fallen asleep in someone’s arms?i’ve fallen asleep holding hands with someone but no not in anyone’s arms...god that sounds nice82: has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?not that i know of84: you’re drunk and yelling at hot people out of your car window, who are you with?i literally cannot see myself ever getting into this situation but. i guess my friend kiri if i must pick someone86: what was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to go see a movie?i cried because of carrie fisher88: if someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?only if the butterfly was dead :( this question makes me sad90: have you ever trusted someone too much?ndnksndksbdjs my autobiography will be out in just a bit no spoilers92: do you get along with girls?yeah! i support and love girls94: does sex mean love?this very much depends on the people involved. it can, but it doesn’t have to!96: have you ever kissed someone with a lip ring?not yet98: everybody has someone that makes them happy, do you?@senpajs100: who was the last person you pinky promised?i literally don’t know lmaorip anyone who had to read this i’m so sorry