#because they'd be moving with themselves considering that

[linklore]

ok the potential argument of centaurs having more weight on their forehand = more potential pain is kind of. wrong??? i know human torsos are kinda heavy but theyre not really any heavier than a horse's head and neck considering the amount of muscle in them, and most of their weight is carried on the forehand anyway. they're built for that shit already, and if a centaur is also moving properly biomechanically (aka not being heavy on the forehand) they're not really gonna have that many issues. i understand wanting to figure out anatomy logistics, and i agree, its interesting, but in this case it just doesnt make sense to give them more problems

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[h2llish]

i've been following your blog for a while and absolutely adore your writing!

if its okay i'd love to see something with either leona or jamil (up to you!) and a reader who falls asleep on their shoulder during some sort of nrc road trip.. i'm not sure if nrc would have buses per say considering all the magic and stuff but the concept of an nrc school trip seems super interesting to me so if you're up for the request by all means just have fun with it!! i do notice that your requests are semi open so feel free to decline ofc !

— ☁️

⁀➷ ˖ ROAD TRIP DROWSINESS

notes ─── hi anon! i’m so happy you like my writing! i don't think they'd have buses at nrc because of the mirror, but crowley would probably spring a sudden road trip on them which would just confuse the students, because why? (i also imagine their bus would probably be a bit fancier? idk how to explain it but nothing like the busses i'm used to.)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ─── a wave of drowsiness leads you to find comfort on his shoulder ♡ fluff, gender neutral, can be read platonic or romantic, not proofread

transportation for students at nrc was not hard, all they had to do was enter the dark mirror and then they found themselves safely at their destination. so if it was that easy, why in the world was the headmage so adamant that they boarded this bus like they were kids back in middle school? ─ a road trip was his very (might many students say stupid) answer.

the only person who seemed to not have a problem with this sudden turn of events, was the magicless prefect from ramshackle. you didn't give any complaints or groan about using the easy way to get to the destination. you just nodded when the headmage announced the decision.

students were chosen at random, names drawn from a hat (a method the headmage seemed to rely on often).  and as the prefect, and the designated scapegoat for everything crowley did, you were of course among that group, with your dire beast other half. 

“i don't get it,” grim frowned, sitting on your shoulder as you approached the bus, where many familiar faces waited to board. “why can't we just use the mirror?”

ace was walking alongside you, being one of the people drawn to join the group. he had decided to met you at ramshackle, knowing you would inevitably have to board the bus as well. “i think the headmage called it some sort of bonding experience. don't know how a hours-long road will be a bonding experience.”

grim grumbled, turning his head to look at your face. you have yet to say anything to add to the conversation. “whaddya’ think, [name]?”

“what?” you blinked, sending a glance to the dire beast before looking ahead of you once more. “what do i think about what?”

“were you even listening to anything we just said?” ace sighed. 

you hummed, “i’ve learned to tune you guys out the moment you start speaking.” ─ and then you were wincing as the two of them shouted, leaning your head away from the monster as he and ace expressed how offended they were.

you sighed, this was going to be a long ride.

and right you were. 

things were okay (as okay as a group of irritable teenage boys with magic on a bus could be) during the first hour. but as the first hour turned to half, and you found yourself growing drowsy, you attempted to doze off, at least for a good twenty minutes. you were unsuccessful, as the moment you closed your eyes, you were quickly opening them to glance at a yelling grim.

epel and sebek, also being among the names drawn, were sitting next to you. epel and grim looked ready to pounce on an unnamed student who seemed to have picked a fight with them. ace didn't do much to stop the argument, in fact, he was actively encouraging it. and sebek, while he made an attempt to hold back a seething grim, was not of much help either. 

you sighed, but made no move to stop it ─ you expected something to happen eventually, and you weren't all that up to being the “reasonable” one of the group. you aren't sure what the argument was about, but neither did you care. if grim got in trouble for attacking a student, it would come back to bite you, but that was something for future you to worry about.

you glanced around the bus, before your attention landed on the savanaclaw housewarden sitting alone. ─ your friends continued to argue with the random guy, and you were sure they had no intention of ending the argument anytime soon. and you would rather sleep off some time on the road rather than listen to your friends go back and forth with someone you didn't even know the name of. you stood from your seat, uncaring of whether or not it was okay to do so as you approached the empty seat. 

leona had his head down, probably napping, the same thing you wanted to do. when you sat down beside him his ears twitched and he lifted his head to look at you, probably intending to scowl and scare off whoever had been stupid enough to sit beside him, until he realized it was you.

“what are you doing?” he frowned at you, but you went unfazed.

“sitting next to you, obviously.”

leona rolled his eyes, “why?”

instead of giving a verbal answer, you pointed at your friends, where sebek now had a grip on the scruff of grim’s neck, keeping him from jumping at the student. ace was laughing, offering no help to the half-fae. epel was no better than grim, with sebek’s arm held out in front of him, keeping him from doing anything.

"so you came to bother me instead?" he asked, and you looked at him straight-faced.

"yup."

leona sighed, but he didn't tell you to scram (not like you would if he did). he didn't say anything else, only close his eyes again and turning away, likely to try and nap. you weren't offended by his lack of reply, leaning your head back against the seat and trailing your eyes over the bus and your peers.

the longer you sat in somewhat silence ─ save for the incoherent yelling from your friends, you had for the most part zoned out, and the chatter of those on board ─ you found yourself falling to the drowsiness that have been interrupted before. you closed your eyes and let the movement of the bus guide you to sleep.

leona was awake, annoyed by the bus and those on the bus. his ears twitched when he heard your breathing slow beside him and he lifted his head, just as your head lolled to the side and you leaned against his shoulder.

he sighed, but made no move to push you off, glancing around you at the rest of the students of nrc, who were all either sleeping themselves, or chatting with friends. he leaned his head back, eyeing you as you shifted for a moment before relaxing again.

"where'd [name] go?" leona could hear your friends ask, no longer distracted by the argument that they were having with the random student.

he looked back at them, just in time to catch ace's eye, who was the first to see you sleeping against leona. he looked ready to say something, but leona narrowed his eyes on the first year. ace immediately shut his mouth, grinning awkwardly as he turned back to his friends.

leona huffed, looking back down at you to make sure you didn't stir. he adjusted in more comfortable position, an arm resting behind you on the seat, allowing you to lean closer, and hopefully, be more comfortable than leaning against his shoulder the way you had. and then he closed his eyes and joined you in a nap for the rest of the ride. (at least until they stopped for a break.)

this wasn't proofread so there will be probably be mistakes, i'll try to come back to edit later!

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

[jinnie-ret]

9th member reader where skz are on a talk show or smth and the host is saying some uncomfy stuff abt reader being the only girl in a group of boys. the boys would be kinda passive aggressive about their replies because they cant outright say anything for fear of bad publicity and being disrespectful. i like the idea of the boys sticking up for reader in any way they can, even if they have to be sly about it so reader knows they have their back

bite my tongue

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: angst

content warnings: sexual harassment (verbal)

word count: 1.6k

summary: when an interviewer decides to pick on you specifically, the boys do their best to hold back and get you out of the situation.

Thank you so much for this request! I'm sorry it took so long for me to answer but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

You decided you hated interviews. There was clearly a difference between how they'd talk to the boys in comparison to how they'd treat you. Whether it was by completely ignoring your existence or sexualising you as the only female in the group, it made you feel awful. The gross comments that were made caused you to feel uncomfortable, yet your demeanour was too shy to fight back. Perhaps that was a good thing, you had 8 other members to defend you at all times anyways.

You were currently doing an interview to promote S-CLASS, your new title track, and it seemed to be a nice atmosphere, a nice sit down conversation where you could talk about your music mixed in with other personal questions to make it more fun. But that was the issue, it wasn't fun. It started off light-hearted, and you worried you were being sensitive and overreacting at first when you suspected the questions you received weren't normal ones, but by the expressions on the boys' faces, you realised you were right to feel this way.

"So, Y/N, tell me, what was it like getting to do a more masculine dance this time? I saw the music video and I was quite surprised at how well you did," the male interviewer started off.

You mouth visibly dropped open in shock, yet you did your best to answer, despite your nerves.

"Ummm, I think my dance skills have improved over the years, yes," you said, not able to make eye contact with the man, not directly saying anything about his prejudiced words.

You had been with Stray Kids from the very start. Yes, the public had their things to say about you being in a group with a bunch of guys, but it had been 5 years now. Of course you were accustomed to the dance style of Stray Kids. You had created your own image through your music and dance, so what if the dance moves were typically more powerful with sharper movements? You were part of the dance line for a reason.

"Our Y/Nnie did so well," Hyunjin ruffled your hair from where he was sat behind you, trying to lighten the mood as he could tell his other members weren't too happy with how you were being treated.

You turned to Hyunjin with a thankful smile.

"So, 3RACHA, you do all the producing for the group right? That's quite a unique situation amongst idol groups," the man asked the group, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief and allowed themselves to smile, grateful for a normal question.

"Ah yes, 3RACHA have been together since predebut, so we've worked hard over the years to create music that represents our group and who we are," Jisung nodded and explained.

You couldn't help but check the time on your watch, seeing there was still 10 minutes to go.

"Y/N, how did it feel having to squeeze into your outfit in the MV? I noticed it was quite a tight leather jumpsuit you wore, that must have been difficult to wear considering it clinged onto you so tightly," the man directed his question at you again, and you were taken aback once more.

"It, umm, it wasn't too difficult, yeah... I think it fitted the vibe of the song," you said, clearly uncomfortable as you shifted in your seat.

Why did you get these types of questions? The boys got asked about music, and you instead got ridiculed for your skills and sexualised by the gross man in his mid 40s.

"Don't you want to ask me about how I fitted into my outfit? I've been working out these days," Changbin tensed his arms, flexing and patting his muscles proudly as he took the attention away from you. He seemed to have been thinking the same way as you.

"Maybe you should help Y/N, she's so small and weak, you could do anything you wanted with her," the man suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you, and quite frankly, you wanted to throw up.

"Have you been working out, sir?" Minho spoke sharply and asked the man, infuriated.

"Oh yes I'm quite strong, can lift just about anyone in this room," he said. The statement of course, inferred he was challenging everyone else, yet his eyes never left your shy and nervous figure sat on the stool.

Everyone could see it. And they knew it was time for something to be done. They didn't think they could last the rest of the interview without punching the interviewer in the face. Yet, they did their best to keep their composure.

"Sorry, sir," Chan began through gritted teeth, tongue poking his cheek, "unfortunately we don't have anymore time for this interview," and he gestured everyone to stand up and follow his lead, exiting the room.

As you did so, you saw the blatantly shocked face on the man's face, Felix wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you left.

The boys were calm, until you made it to your backstage room where you had gotten ready earlier. All hell broke loose.

"What does that man think he's doing?" Changbin slammed his hand down onto the table, making you jump as you stayed quiet.

"I can't believe all those stupid things he was saying!" Minho growled, folding his arms.

"He's disgusting," Seungmin shook his head.

Chan was the angriest of them all, face of thunder as he paced the room. And yet, you couldn't help but feel bad. Surely, that interview couldn't be released now? And it was meant to help promote your new music, and because of your presence in the group, you felt like you were taking that opportunity away from them.

"Y/Nnie?" Jeongin waved his hand in your face to get your attention.

"Hmm?" you shook your head wondering what he was asking.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, and with all the anger that was in the room, it dissipated with your calm voice breaking through it.

"I guess..." you didn't really know what to say at this point. You felt like you should have been used to it by now.

"I know that look on your face, Y/Nnie, don't even go there," Chan shook his head at you, a frown still present on his face.

"I don't want to do interviews anymore," you suddenly blurted, fiddling with your hands nervously.

"Y/N..." Hyunjin sighed, but you cut him off.

"Every time we promote something we get an interview like this that can't be put out to the public. And it's because I'm here. And then that means our music will be getting out to less people out there and-" you fretted.

"If you seriously think this is your fault Y/N," Seungmin sat up, pure disbelief seeping through his words as he couldn't believe that even with the way you were being treated you still felt guilty.

"Y/N, you didn't make that interviewer say all those gross things towards you," Felix rubbed your shoulder soothingly.

"You actually did really well to still try and answer him," Jisung nodded at you, thinking that he wouldn't have been able to have done the same thing.

"I had to bite my tongue so many times to not shout at him," Changbin gritted his teeth.

"This is why I shouldn't do these anymore, because it just ends up stressing you guys out," you felt bad, sitting down with your leg bouncing up and down.

"You're worried about us? We're worried about you, it's not fair that someone talks to you like that," Jeongin shook his head, hands on his hips.

"Y/N, here's what we're going to do. First, we're going to file a complaint against that guy. And second, for all future interviews we'll get the company to do a thorough check on if they're respectful and actually treat their guests right," Chan began, a plan already sorted in his mind for what action they could take.

"You're part of this group as much as anyone else, we can't represent Stray Kids without you there with us," Minho said like it was obvious, but it didn't feel that way to you.

"But it's always going to be the same thing. I'd rather not risk it again," you say, upset at the situation you had all been put in.

"Chan hyung already said, we can check what the show is like before going on it. That way you can decide from there, yeah?" Felix suggested, hand stroking through your hair as he sat next to you on the sofa.

"Or if you really don't want to do interviews anymore, I'm sure there's a way we can work around it. We could do more company based promotions and Div.1 can help us make our own shows?" Jisung wondered.

"No, I don't want to make things more complicated... I'll do them, I will, I just don't want this to ever happen again. It stresses me out, makes me feel all, gross," you shuddered.

"As long as you're sure, Y/N," Changbin checked in on you as everyone grabbed their things ready to leave the studio.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you mustered up a small smile, leaving with the others.

As you walked to the cars, you spoke up again, speaking louder than your normal quiet voice to catch the attention of everyone else.

"Thanks, by the way guys. Thank you for doing that."

"You don't have to thank us for that, Y/Nnie. We'd do that anytime, you know that," Hyunjin ruffled your hair, him and the rest of the boys now seeming more themselves and happier as you were leaving.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng

[ayeforscotland]

Will try not to make this too long, but in light of the fascist thuggery we've seen in England and Northern Ireland of the past week you may find yourself faced with violence and you may have to defend yourself.

The best form of self-defence is to not be near a violent situation at all. If you can escape safely, you can and should. No question.

This post is focused on the mental aspect of understanding violence.

When it comes to violence, everyone has their own personal limit. Both in what they'd consider doing BEFORE a violent event occurs and what they find themselves willing to do DURING a violent event.

For example, someone may do some soul searching and decide that they personally are okay with breaking someone's leg (or more) to protect themselves or their family. Others might say that's not an option at all, and they wouldn't fight back even in self-defence. We all have our own limits and need to evaluate them in our own time.

However, while combat sports have rules and referees, a self-defence situation does not.

This is purely an example, but where I train, there's always one move that new members struggling committing to because they have a completely natural mental barrier to it - Eye gouging.

It's an illegal move in every sport, it's genuinely quite horrible to think about doing to another person. Most of us have never sat down and thought about doing it to someone.

Could you physically dig your thumbnails into someone's eyes?

It feels icky to even ask. If you stop just now and try and do it to yourself, it's uncomfortable pretty damn quickly. It's an example of a mental barrier that can cause people to freeze because they've never considered it before they find themselves in a threatening violent situation.

And while it's easy to puff out your chest and say you could do XYZ to anyone, it requires a bit of deep reflection to align what you mentally are okay with doing to defend yourself, and what you are capable of doing.

Anyway, just some musings on self-defence. There's as much of a mental aspect to self-defence as there is a physical one.

It's also worth stating for anyone in Scotland, if someone hits you and you hit them back - you have still technically committed assault. You will have the opportunity to argue in court that it was in self-defence, but it'll be up for you and your lawyer to do that. So there's a whole legal side of self-defence too.

[thegnomelord]

Ahh I love the food thing that you got asked <3 food can have such a special place in our lives it's so precious

Ya think Hound develop concerning eating habits due to Makarov? Due to the whole stressful situation

I just want someone in the 141 to cook him a meal, filled with love and care, maybe Hound is in the kitchen watching them cook it for his own security.

I just want him to have a nice meal 😔

-🐙

I do feel like Hound would have some food hoarding habits or just distrust about eating something he didn't make himself. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten drugged through food...

But the 141 making food communally would be a fun idea lol so here's a quick brain fart :D :

You feel out of place. Well, you're always out of place, but you feel especially out of place sitting at the table while Soap and and Gaz busy themselves by the stove, Price humming to himself to the side as he gets the mugs to make tea. Ghost sits next to you grumbling under his breath, both of you in 'time-out' — you hadn't done anything (save for not being trusted around anything sharp), it's Ghost that had gone and microwaved beans in the can. Now Johnny swears up and down the microwave is possessed.

Your eyes flicker between Soap and Gaz, watching them cook you don't even know what. The only British 'cuisine' you know of is the cremated steaks Price would sometimes make you before. . . that. But nothing the two are making smells nearly as bad as the charred hockey pucks Price would feed you and Simon.

"Hey!" Your brought out of your thoughts in time to see Kyle swat away Price's hand with his spatula. "Don't you dare cap! I'm not about to get rained on because of your bad cooking." You hadn't considered Gaz could take charge, too soft in your eyes, but you're surprised by how tight of a ship he runs when he's by the stove.

"Alright, alright." Price huffs while Ghost lets out an amused huff. He's not quite laughing, but you can see the subtle tremor of his shoulders in silent laughter.

That gets Soap to point a spoon in Ghost's direction. "Oh yer one te fockin' giggle. Mr. 'ah cursed the damn microwave with me beans'."

"Sod off." Simon grunts, but there's no edge to his words. Soap tuts, but soon enough starts off rambling about something you're not quite able to follow along to when your eyes once again focus on where their arms are, how they move, paying especially close attention any time they rest them by their sides (even though realistically you doubt they'd try to drug the same food they'd eat).

You still tense when you feel Price's hand on your back, only now noticing that you'd started hunching your back, your shoulders raised closer to your ears. "You're alright, straighten your spine, sweetheart." His voice is calm, his hand warm as he applies gentle pressure on your back until you straighten back out. "There you go, good man." He rumbles, hand going up to ruffle your hair before he pulls away before his touch can turn into stinging pain to your skin.

You blink as a plate full of food is placed in front of you. The food smells good and doesn't look like it had been cremated, made with care you don't deserve. "I. . ." You don't know why but your throat feels clogged, like someone had poured hot tar into your mouth and forced you to swallow, the collar around your throat constricting your breathing even more.

Simon's shoulder bumps into yours, "If you don't eat that I will." The childish threat makes you breathe out a small laugh.

"Aye, the bastard's like Henry the hoover, he'll eat anything." Soap supplies as he sits down opposite of you with his own plate. Though you get the impression he's talking about himself when he stabs a sausage with a fork and almost inhales the entire thing.

"Mhm," You grunt, taking the fork. "I don't doubt it." You stab a piece of black pudding. It tastes earthy, but the small coppery tang of blood sizzles down your nerves, but fuck it tastes good.

"Look at that, is it good?" Kyle chuckles as he watches your facial features shift as you swallow the food, his own face that of pride like he already knows your answer, but you nod your head all the same.

[justalittlelilac]

Four days.

You had four days to tell Qiu Lin you were in love with them.

Four days before Qiu would leave Golden Grove again to return to their university and leave you. Four days to somehow summon the courage to say aloud what you'd whispered only to your pillow at night. Four days to reveal what you had held close to your heart.

Four. Days.

It had felt easy at first. After all, you'd been best friends for years—what were three months apart? When they left for that out-of-state university, the goodbye had been teary, yes, but you'd reassured yourself they'd come back even if it was so far away.

Much less could be said about you. No, when you planted yourself in Golden Grove, you had been determined to put roots so deep in the ground that not even your mom could uproot you again.

You weren't like the others, ready to run off and embrace change. You had chosen this life, this town, with its familiar faces and predictable days. You chose the comfort of online schooling while the rest packed up and moved on. While they left.

And when Qiu and Tamarack no longer graced your bedroom with their laughter and light, the house felt colder and emptier, especially with your mom taking more business trips now that you were an adult.

That first week, you found yourself hiding a teary voice in a three-way call with your friends that lasted an hour. They'd promised to call every day, but the best-laid plans never consider being a new freshman in college. Very quickly, the calls devolved into sporadic spurts of text conversation, erratic like the flicker of a dying candle.

You understood. Of course, you did. They were busy, and so were you. That was what you claimed in happy texts that ended in a thumbs-up emoji.

In actuality, you found yourself staring at your phone most days, scrambling for the device whenever it lit up. You tried to occupy yourself, even taking a job as an assistant editor at the Golden Grove Gazette. However, you still felt their absence... especially Qiu's.

It was different with Qiu. Always had been. Always would be. Much like the rest of Golden Grove's student body, you'd admired and crushed on them for so long. Even when they had iced everyone else out, they had kept you close. You'd never told them how much that meant to you, but it was more precious than all the stars you'd gazed at together, lying on your backs in the damp grass of your backyard at night.

Even when you also pushed everyone away, crashed out, and earned the moniker "Golden Grove's Local Delinquent," they stayed. They didn't judge, but they were worried because they knew what it felt like to feel lost. Through their help, you righted yourself somewhat, even if much damage had already been done. You still didn't know how to thank them for that.

Loving Qiu, even quietly, was like loving the sun on a frosted morning. Its rays would somehow penetrate through the chill to warm your face, comforting and cozy. It'd been like that since you were 10.

You'd watch them from across the schoolyard, noting their every move. Noticing how they carried themselves differently from others around them, confident but kind. Taking mental note of how the wind blew their silky dark hair and how it'd catch the light in such a way that it would cause you to stare for just a few moments longer than anyone else.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you swore you caught them staring back when you weren't looking.

However, as time marched on and your crush grew into something much fonder and more profound, you resigned yourself to friendship. Everyone liked Qiu; you were not unique in that sort of way. You told yourself it was enough, thinking it better to have them as a friend than to lose them altogether if they didn't feel the same. Time hid your deeper love like seeds under snow, and you tried to forget the words you were too afraid to speak. And as time did what it does, you slowly accepted that it had been too long to utter them aloud at all.

Until they left.

Then, it was like all the years of buried longing had rushed to the surface and the forefront of your mind like roots cracking the pavement, like released hounds, barking and gnashing at your thoughts. You believed you could go the rest of your life only half loving Qiu Lin. Loving them contently from afar in a quiet part of your heart.

But the ache from the distance only revealed more and more that half loving Qiu Lin felt like a life half lived.

When they texted some obscure (but funny) anti-thanksgiving meme in the group chat stating they'd be home for the four-day break, you knew you couldn't let the time pass by without telling them.

Because you knew with even more certainty that you would likely never get another chance. The gap between you two was expanding, and if you didn't jump now, it'd become too vast for even the most skilled leap to make it across.

You had just hit 'submit' on your last online midterm test when you felt your phone buzz a couple times next to you on your bed. Closing the laptop, you grabbed it and read the text messages coming in with a growing smile:

Part 2, Part 3

[rationaliity]

found family | astral express

self indulgent found family astral express story literally no plot its just them all being silly as they welcome you, the newcomer, onto the astral express and you realize that maybe they're more like a family than you expected originally

the astral express was a family. this was something that you weren't expecting when you joined them. they each have their own agendas, their own lives, why would they worry about each other ? they just traveled with each other, which didn't constitute a family in your eyes.

you were scared when you first came to the astral express, and you needed a place to stay. " just until you could get back on your feet " you told gray haired woman in front of you, although your voice had been shaky because you were crying so much. she didn't say much, just told you that she would talk to the others on the express, and that they would talk about it.

a few hours later, you're boarding the astral express, with many unfamiliar faces staring back at you. as they introduce themselves to you, you try to remember everyone there, but there's so many names and so much information about each of them, you honestly have a hard time remembering the details.

there's the two older members on the express, himeko and welt yang. himeko has a calm but commanding voice, much like a fierce protective mother would have, and you can't help but feel calm in her presence. welt yang is softer around his edges, with a gentler tone of voice, but everyone on the express clearly respects him and his opinions, like his words held weight to him.

the other four were younger than welt and himeko and had been trailblazing for a shorter amount of time. there was march 7th, a chatty but easily irritated girl with plenty of opinions that she wasn't afraid to say, something you deeply admired from her. dan heng, who's silence was born not out of contempt or dislike, but because of what he has witnessed in the world. you understood him maybe a little better than you wanted to let on.

then there was the siblings, stelle and caelus, though they seemed perfectly content just to be called anything else, too. they both seemed perfectly fine with the nickname ' intergalactic baseballer ' which earned a little chuckle from you. they were both quiet, with stelle giving off a more cool and deadpan personality to caelus' naturally silly one, although they were both incredibly funny. they'd been travelling with the express for a lot less than everyone else, meaning they were the last two trailblazers that had been picked up from the express before you.

and now, there was you. no matter what your story was, they let you on the express so willingly, bringing you into their arms like you had always been there. it unnerved you.

" make yourself comfortable, please, " himeko's voice tore through your thoughts, and you realized you'd just been standing there at the entrance staring at everyone trying to decipher what they wanted from you.

" oh, uh, yeah, " you stuttered out finally, moving in between dan heng and march 7th to sit down on the parlor chairs, folding your legs underneath you to sit crisscrossed. almost immediately as your butt hit the plushness, did march 7th bound up to you, sitting right next to you.

" we're gonna be warp jumping to another world soon ! it's a little hard to get a hang of it at first, so make sure to brace yourself whenever the conductor gives you the warning ! " she explained, her cheerfulness breaching through your defenses, especially when she tacked on afterwards, " i'm going to see if i can stand up during the jump ! you know, balance ! "

" march, have you considered that your unwanted advances towards friendship may just be that ? unwanted ? " dan heng criticized, but you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a little giggle, covering your face with your hands at the two of them.

" she gottem, " caelus pointed out, earning a brief little nod from stelle.

" gotta try harder at being friendless than that, " stelle agreed in a dry voice despite her silly words, and you really noticed how the twins bounced off each other, like they were one full person together and only half when they were apart.

mr. yang's voice was gentle as he spoke to the five of you, warm and gentle as he regarded you. " i have a feeling that you're going to enjoy the astral express. "

" have you seen the express so full ? " himeko asked, as if she were finally taking in that there were a crew of nameless now, and not just a bunch of ragtag adventurers that had made their home the express together.

" oh, do you wanna hear stories about the astral express crew ? you know, to get an idea of what we're like ? " march asked, her intense gaze boring into yours, as if willing you to just nod a little bit so she could show off her pictures and tell you stories from each one.

" sure, " you agreed, finding yourself almost excited to learn more than just the basics from each of these people. march jumped up immediately, running towards her room and grabbing stacks of photos before plopping down right next to you again. by the time she came back, dan heng had taken a seat on your other side, albeit a bit farther away.

caelus and stelle were still standing side by side, while mr. yang and himeko decided to sit in front of you all on the other side of the parlor, likely giving you space but ready to chime in when it came to their own stories.

march sat a picture on your lap of a man with blue dragon horns and glowing eyes, separating the waters of a world that you didn't recognize. " march, " dan heng's voice sounded like he was ready to complain. " why is this the first one that you showed ? "

" because it was the first in the stack ! i don't know what to tell you, dan heng ! " march shrugged animatedly, before turning back to the picture on your lap, " that's dan heng ! apparently he's the descendant of a dragon race of the xianzhou luofu, or something like that ! "

" oh.. wow ! " you exclaimed, doing a double take at dan heng now versus what he looked like in the picture. longer hair, different clothing, but still the same piercing gaze that he had now, determination etched onto his features like it was a part of him.

" it's a little more complicated than that, " dan heng shook his head, reaching over and taking the picture from your lap. " and now, this picture is mine. "

" what ?! that's not fair at all, dan heng ! "

" he just wants to admire himself, " caelus quipped, chuckling to himself. stelle's face broke into a small smile, but she didn't say anything back.

" fine, you can keep it, dan heng, " march sighed in resignation, " besides, these are just copies. all of my photos are still stored on my actual camera. " she shuffled through the pictures one by one, absentmindedly telling you about them as she sat them on your lap, but she was clearly looking for something.

" this is the big boss we fought in the xianzhou luofu, this is a picture of the general, this is a teacher that stelle met in her journey, this is a bunch of herta's puppets from the space station in the same area and it looked really freaky so i just had to take a picture ! here's a picture of mr. yang subduing the stellaron inside of caelus' body, and i remember being very confused because once caelus was knocked out, stelle passed out at the same time, too. weird. oh ! there's a bunch of pictures of how the dreamscape looked in penacony. oh, here ! "

with a little over twenty pictures already sat in your lap as she shuffled through the stack she had, you were finally given one picture of the four trailblazers, excluding welt and himeko. " we need to have one with mr. yang and himeko, but this is the four of us when we went on our first trailblazing expedition with stelle and caelus to jarilo-xi ! " she explained.

" why don't we take a picture of all of us now ? " himeko suggested on the other side of the parlor.

" i believe we can have pompom take the picture for us, if the conductor is willing, " welt looked over to the conductor. no one had told you yet what the conductor actually was, but you had a feeling that you shouldn't really ask such a question out loud, so you left your curiosity for another day.

" what ?! pompom has to take the picture ? fine, but pompom wants a picture with everyone, too ! " they grabbed the camera that march was extending out to them, and backed up towards the end of the parlor car. " everyone, get together now ! "

you stood up, practically ushered by march as you found yourself in the middle of the picture, squished in between caelus and stelle on your right, with stelle being a little forward so there was enough room, and dan heng on your left. march stood sort of in between you and dan heng but just in front of you, since she was shorter than dan heng, and welt and himeko stood behind the five of you. you felt a hand gently resting on your shoulder, and you looked up behind you to see welt giving you a small smile.

" you're doing great, " he praised softly, under his breath so only you could hear. " welcome to the astral express. "

as the picture was snapped, you couldn't help but think that you really would enjoy this time with your new family. it was an odd experience, sure, but not one unwelcome. the astral express really was like a family, and they were embracing you with open arms.

[doberbutts]

Genuine question: What do you think of the argument that very white-passing folks — even if they have black parents, grandparents, etc. — cannot call themselves black?

Personally I think whether or not you're black depends on your actual lived reality. My nephew is white passing. He's from the sister who is about the same tone as me, just a little lighter, and the same racial mixture of Irish and afronative, and his very German father. He's got white skin and blonde hair and blue eyes and genuinely if you didn't know that little boy was technically black you would not guess it.

However. He lives with his visibly black mother, his visibly black sister (same racial mix as him, she just got the darker genes), and their visibly black stepfather and visibly black stepsiblings. He's the odd man out, the lightest of the group, and the one that looks like he doesn't belong. And, when you see him next to his family... suddenly the white skin and blonde hair and blue eyes don't cut it for determining his whiteness, because you start to notice that he shares a whole lot of features with the darker skinned members of his family.

Like me, he's put his foot down about his blackness. If asked at school why he's white but his family is black, he will outright state that he's mixed race and that he is actually black and white just like his sister and mother. He's not wrong. He IS black and white and no small part Native, though I think the complexity of the last part is hard for him to grasp at his elementary school level understanding of race politics.

But what is his reality? Well, when he's with his white father, or my white (passing) mother, he's white. Until he opens his mouth to defend his sister or his mother or a friend of his from racism, at which point said racist's eyes laser-focus on every minute detail of his face to pick out the non-European features covered in pale skin.

This is honestly pretty similar to how a Jewish friend of mine describes her experience, how she is white until she opens her mouth to say something positive about Judiasm or negative about antisemitism, at which point every possible Jewish feature on her face comes under intense scrutiny and her white status is revoked immediately. It's also why I'm always on this "antisemitism 🤝 antiblackness" thing.

I also have a Hungarian friend who is equally peeved at the flattening of racial nuance, as he and his family consider themselves mixed race and Eurasian and not just white, however he has had equal amount of people hurting him for his more blatantly Asian features as he's had people telling him he never experiences racism because he's a white European. Similarly, his reality is that he's white until he says something that doesn't align with white supremacy's rules on white opinion and white behavior, at which point every single Asian feature he has is used as punishment against him.

It's not to say that my nephew, my Jewish friend, or my Hungarian friend don't benefit from their perceived whiteness. They do, in fact! My nephew again is a bit young to have this conversation, but my friends have also discussed with me how they have seen that perception occasionally give them a boost as they move through life. And how, if they would want to keep that boost, they'd have to lean into the concept of whiteness and erase a significant portion of their identities in the process.

This is also spoken about at length by Natives forced to assimilate and intermarry with white people to "breed out the savage", as it were. And I know of lightskinned, though imo not white passing, black people who have discussed the same thing. This even is discussed by people in the Irish, Italian, Greek, and Polish diaspora here in the US- how their current status of "white" came at the cost of not only erasing huge portions of their own culture and history but also practically requires them to lean into white supremacy in order to continue to reap the benefits of white privilege, and how the cost is so much higher than the gain especially when you understand that it doesn't work. You can be One Of The Good Ones all you like and someone dedicated to racism is still going to hate you even once you've gotten rid of all the obvious poc.

To put it simply, these aren't new conversations and I'm never going to be anywhere remotely close to "white-passing" so it's sort of a moot point for me. It's not my reality. But I think listening to those who have lived it is better for gaining a more solid understanding. I don't think that my nephew is wrong to call himself black or mixed black. It's technically true, he came out of a black woman. I also think he is going to have a very different life from his sister, from his mother, from his stepfather and stepsiblings, from his black extended family.

I think rejection from the black community would only hurt him, because he is growing up surrounded by black people in a black family learning black culture, so someone telling him that he shares the same features and DNA but his skin is too light to find community there is just hurtful. Who does it help? Who does it protect? To tell a little kid that he can't call himself part of his own family?

[alchemistc]

too many toasters | bucktommy 1/1

Tommy contemplates asking Buck to move in with him.

read on ao3

He's reorganizing a cupboard to make room for the massive crockpot he'd found for a steal at an estate sale (thinking of the stew he wants to make for Evan the next time the Santa Ana's are chasing at their heels) when he notices.

Evan's protein powder, still balanced on top of the fridge because he's hesitant to claim the spot Tommy had cleared for him weeks ago.

Evan's spare immersion blender, brought over because he'd seen Tommy's old-school espresso maker and wanted to try his hand at foam art. Unsuccessfully, considering both of them were avoiding cows milk at the moment.

The spare set of Jeep keys looped next to the garage door, which Evan hadn't asked him to return after Tommy changed his oil, and Tommy had taken to touching on his way out of the house like a wife stroking a token of her husband far off in a foreign country fighting a war.

In the living room, the blanket over the couch is tucked and folded in a way Tommy can never replicate and doesn't try, because he likes the look of it, hanging neatly over the arm of the loveseat.

In the garden, a second set of gloves, too unwieldy for anything but pulling thick weeds.

In the bathroom, the mouthwash Evan swears by tucked next to Tommy's aftershave in the medicine cabinet.

In the bedroom, two hoodies Tommy has stolen and stretched out the shoulders of - a flavored lube in the bedside table drawer that they'd both laughed themselves silly about after one use and Tommy hadn't had the heart to toss in the trash the next morning - three department issue tee's folded neatly in his wardrobe that Evan outgrew years ago and has retrofitted for sleepwear - a book on the bloody history of the potato on top of the ancient PS4 setup Tommy still hasn't moved to the living room.

And more - Tommy can picture them all in his mind clear as day, and his heart lurches fondly, warningly, in his chest.

They’ve settled somewhere between normal and warp speed, now that the early relationship milestones have all been blown clean out of the water. Spare keys exchanged, controversial sexual fantasies shared, shovel talks mostly avoided by the sheer power of dry wit and matching bitchiness, I love you’s exchanged beneath a hazy crescent moon with half a bottle of Merlot drunk between them and the wisteria hanging off his pergola tickling their noses. Tommy counts the time Evan had let him throw the Jeep up on the lift so he could do a full diagnostic rundown, and Evan counts the time Tommy let him Facetime with his nephew in Reno. Milestones, common and uncommon, that Tommy had stumbled through with a hand clenched in Evan’s, absolutely prepared to match both speed and psychosis.

He’s met the parents, at more than just a passing glance with his face covered in the same soot that painted a radius around Evan’s mouth. He’s fully integrated into the 118’s groupchats - every iteration, though he’s fond of the Maddie-Karen-Athena combo that never fails to go for the throat where station fuckery is involved.

They’ve done the stupid zodiac quizzes Tommy’s sister had sent him, Evan curled into the circle of his arms and ignoring the barrage of texts he’d gotten from Maddie after he’d asked her what time of day he’d been born, grinning into the skin of Tommy’s pec at the readout and then promptly reminding Tommy that neither one of them believed in that shit, anyway.

They’ve talked about the future — for themselves, individually, for the possibility with a partner. For each other, if (when, Tommy’s heart whispers) they make a good run of things.

Evan’s lease is up in a month.

They haven’t talked about it.

He only knows because Eddie had mentioned it, about as subtle as a bullhorn, before Tommy had to stop him from gossiping about all the missteps Evan’s had with living with significant others in the past.

(”There are things about Evan I should hear from Evan first,” Tommy had told him, a little more stern than he’d been going for, enough to make Eddie visibly swallow down a barrage of thinly veiled disdain for Evan’s exes.)

Evan hasn’t brought it up, but Tommy knows a little , enough to piece together why he might be reluctant to broach the subject.

But as Tommy shifts the popcorn maker into a corner and removes the toaster he’s been tinkering with to no avail for six months now, crockpot sliding in without so much as a rustle from the other kitchenware stuffed in there, he thinks about the recent quiet that has swallowed him whole on nights when they just can’t quite make the revolving door of their disparate schedules work. He thinks of the times he’s pushed through the door to Evan’s loft, dead on his feet and world-weary after a patient arrived at the helipad DOA — of the sound of his voice falling into a tangent easing something inside Tommy even though his joints and his heart were both still aching.

He thinks of the way Evan looks, toothpaste on the corners of his lips because he’s had a thought halfway through brushing that couldn’t wait the extra forty-five seconds to be heard. He thinks of the way he hates washing his sheets between visits, now, because he doesn’t like losing the faint scent of Evan’s shampoo on the pillowcase.

Tommy closes the cabinet and makes a beeline for the jug of protein powder sitting on top of his fridge. Opens the cabinet door above it and shifts the jug back into the spot he’d assigned it weeks ago.

“Right,” he says, out loud, into the silence of the house.

The house sighs back at him.

---

Tommy is incredibly good at stifling the part of himself that enjoys rom-coms more than any other genre of fiction. He’s had years, decades, to push his soft sighs down below his diaphragm where they can’t hurt him.

Evan appreciates how little fanfare there’s been to most of their firsts. The lack of pressure, the ease with which they’ve approached things that they’d both previously considered watershed moments.

He considers texting Eddie to ask him if Evan has mentioned anything about re-upping his lease. Tosses that thought aside almost immediately, because he can already see the snarky response: There are things about Buck you should hear from Buck first.

He nearly reaches out to Bobby, before he remembers Bobby’s soft smile, a month and a half ago, while Evan carted a squealing Jee-Yun around Hen and Karen’s backyard, his gentle smile when Tommy had handed him a club soda and lime. (”You know, I never thought I’d see Buck settle in to something he doesn’t need a pep talk about,” Bobby had said, and something had unfurled in Tommy like a delicate flower reaching for the sun.) He could. It’s stupid to think Bobby wouldn’t be happy to talk to Tommy about something like this — but there’s a quiet voice in the back of his mind telling him this is something he needs to figure out for himself.

In the end, he keeps it simple. Just enough romance to maybe give Evan a heads up. Two nights after shoving Evan’s protein power where it belongs, Tommy tells him to dress slightly more than casual, picks him up in the Nova he’s been fixing up for three months, drives him up the PCH until the sun is low on the horizon. They watch the clouds spark up in pinks and purples, the sea reflecting colors back, and then Tommy gets them burgers and beers, and they walk them off in the twilight, shoes in their hands as they drift along the sun-warm sand.

Evan points out a cloud that he swears looks like the tree in the front yard of the house he grew up in, and Tommy seizes the moment, shifts the slim box from his back pocket while Evan is turned away. It’s nearly too dark, and they should probably have turned back for the car twenty minutes ago, but Evan has a step count he likes to meet when he won’t be at the gym for a few days, and they’ve got plans for a long weekend.

Tommy takes a deep breath when Evan turns back to look at him. His breath tumbles out in a rush when he catches sight of the box. “It’s not a ring,” Tommy tells him, cringing, hyperaware all of the sudden that Evan would absolutely know that just by the size and shape of the box.

Evan tilts back on his heels. There is a gentle grin on his face — the one he had five seconds before Tommy told him he loved him, the one he wore the first time Tommy threw one of his hoodies on in the chill of the loft and raised the cuffs surreptitiously to his nose, the one Tommy sees every time he presses a kiss to the pink mark over Evan’s brow.

Like he knows.

Like he’s been waiting on Tommy to catch up.

“You could have just said something yourself,” Tommy notes, with a hint of sass, as the picture comes into focus. “You didn’t have to send Eddie in to drop hints.”

Evan bites his lip. “Is that for me?” That cloud looks like the tree outside my childhood home, my ass.

Cheeky. God, Tommy loves him. “Could be.”

Evan crab-hands his way forward, and Tommy shifts his weight back just enough that he misses, in the growing dark. There’s a little helicopter on the keyring he’d bought, no key attached because Evan already has that, and it’s so sappy he’s bound to get half a dozen teasing texts about it the very first time someone at the 118 clocks it. Tommy doesn’t care.

Evan shifts his weight back, drops his hands to his sides. Tommy can see the moon reflecting off the water in the sparkle of his eyes. “Ask me,” Evan says, and Tommy leans in to kiss him, instead.

---

Tommy finds no less than six of his henley’s in the depths of Evan’s closet while they’re paring down the parts of his wardrobe he doesn’t wear anymore. Rather than comment on it, he folds them neatly and adds them to the keep pile.

The Buckley’s, always deciding to be overbearing at the worst of times, try to buy them a new mattress when they hear through the grapevine that Evan is moving.

Chimney spends a week giving Tommy shit about the keyring, and Tommy retaliates by buying Jee a toy copter that lights up, makes noise, and can manage to hover off the ground just at ankle height.

---

“We have four toasters,” Evan comments. They’ve spent an entire three days off unpacking, the both of them unsettled by the idea of leaving boxes stacked around the house, or in the spare room (Thank you, Eddie, for that shared trauma response).

He’s shirtless, rubbing a serum into his skin as Tommy settles in on his side of the bed, soft pink lips parted, favoring his good leg a little. Tommy’s already reaching for the massage oil by the time Evan has finished his thankfully simple skincare routine. Tommy needs to upgrade his stock medicine cabinet, if Evan is going to continue stockpiling a backup of both of their respective skin and hair products.

He waves the bottle of massage oil at Evan when he moves towards the bed, and something eases in Evan’s expression — the reminder that Tommy pays such close attention to him always enough to turn him a bit gooey, and Tommy has never used it for evil, but he could, if he wanted to. “Do you want to get comfortable to sleep, or is this going to make you horny again?”

Evan grins, bright and wide, a little mischievous as he tilts his head and cocks a hip. Down to his briefs, there’s not much left to Tommy’s imagination.

“Not my fault you’ve got magic hands.”

“I’m merely trying to perform a service for my partner who has been moving boxes up and down stairs for a week and a half.”

“I’ll perform a service on you,” Evan rebuttals, tongue between his teeth, and the muscles in Tommy’s groin tighten on instinct, more than anything else.

“Three out of ten for cheesiness. I’ll give you six overall for sticking the landing.”

“That’s at least an eight and you know it,” Evan argues, the side-sleeper knee pillow already out from under the bed and propping up his leg as he shifts to get comfortable.

Tommy doesn’t warm the dollop of oil in his hand before he slides his palm up Evan’s thigh, and Evan makes a noise halfway between a squeak and a snort. He shoots Tommy a bratty look that Tommy wants to devour, but —

He warms a much more generous pour of oil between his palms before he slowly searches out the deepest knots with gentle fingers, and Evan sighs, eyes tipping closed as Tommy works. His dick twitches in his briefs, but Tommy ignores it, for the time being.

They’ll have time for it later.

[amaranthineghost]

| UNDER THE MISTLETOE ( logan sargeant. ) |

ꕥ pairing: logan sargeant x reader

ꕥ summary: life-long friends who always swore they'd never have feelings find themselves under a mistletoe.

ꕥ authors note: contemplated making this a lando imagine but it's so logan coded and there needs to be more imagines for logan cus he's so <3 (not proofread)

will be making a christmas imagine for lando and maybe another driver, not sure which one yet. also thinking of a mini series for 400 followers (tysm!) so if you have any ideas or requests, let me know <3

SNOW FLUTTERED AGAINST THE WIND. she'd tugged his arm, pulling him along the frost-covered wonderland. her arm outstretched to point out the dazzling christmas lights strung along the concrete path.

he watched her with admiration, he wouldn't notice he was, neither would she. but the other drivers sure did, their girlfriends too. the number of times they'd nudge each other with their elbows to point out the childhood friends, who stood too close to be considered just that.

they always denied it, pushing the idea of being anything more than what they were far away from their minds because they simply didn't want to admit it. not to each other anyways.

but they saw how he looked at her, like she was brighter than all the lights that shined around him, prettier than all the ornaments hung on various evergreens with snow dusting the branches, sparkling more than the snow when the light hit it just perfectly.

they saw how closely he stood to her, eventually lacing his hand with hers, laughing at how cold her hands were in contrast to the warmth of his. he'd slip his interlaced hand with hers into his puffer jacket pocket, noticing her relieving sigh at the warmth, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

the way his eyes flickered over her figure. the contrast of snow flecked through her dark hair, the lights reflection off her iris as her pupils dilated while watching the display in awe. the way she wore his williams racing jacket, though now christmas themed.

he hadn't realized how much time he'd spent just staring at her. he'd memorized every freckle of her face, the way her mouth creased and eyes crinkled when she smiled, the way her hair fell.

countless pictures had been shown to him of the pair, asking him 'if you're not in love, then explain this.' he couldn't, shaking his head with a nervous chuckle and the heat rushing to his face. maybe he was in love with her, he knew he should admit, but couldn't bring himself in worry that it'd force all the years of their friendship down the drain.

but it didn't stop him from hiding his smile every time he'd get a comment on social media about how cute the couple were, even when they weren't together. his cheeks would hurt from how much he scrolled through the comments, nervously biting his nails as he scanned the words from fans. new fans would mistake them as being together and he didn't mind, he actually felt his heart skip a beat every time he read something like it.

he'd scoff playfully at the comments for him to make a move already, but he was comfortable. watching christmas light shows with his girl—just his friend. but he'd secretly hope for more.

"they're so clueless," alex commented to his friend beside him, earning an elbow to the gut from his beloved girlfriend, lily. he winced, mouthing an 'ow' as she glared up at him. she thought it was sweet how obliviously in love the two were because they were in their own world, she wanted to protect that peace.

"how long do you think it'll take them to finally realize?" george commented, eyeing the couple beside him while his arm was around carmen.

"honestly, never." he shrugged, his answer was honest because he didn't think they'd have it in them to ruin the sanctity of their friendship for something more, even though they desired it.

"honestly," george had started by mocking alex, but had nothing to follow, "yeah." he'd exhale deeply, his hands moving to the warmth of his pockets.

they'd continue to walk behind the couple—who weren't a couple, but so obviously needed to be. they'd notice what the two were walking into before them.

but he'd be lost in his thoughts, contently staring at the girl's face lit up with the light that shined off christmas lights—and of course, excitement.

he hadn't noticed her slowed pace, her neck craned upwards, her muffled voice as if water separated them.

his name repeated from her lips, "logan." she simply said when his hearing focused back on her, his eyes unmoving on her face, "look."

he watched her lips part with a smile, not understanding her point of stopping in the middle of the pathway till he too looked where her eyes had.

tied neatly with red ribbon and decorated sparsely with berries of a matching color was the green of mistletoe. his heart skipped a beat and they'd stay staring up at it in a comfortable silence and realization.

he gulped softly, he felt the pounding in his chest as he turned to look back at her, finding her already staring with big eyes and parted lips, he'd realize now the sparkly gloss.

"well?" she'd question, and she'd watch his face closely, how his mouth would open, but nothing but utter gibberish spilled from his lips.

he nervously looked back and forth between her and the decoration before she'd realize his uselessness in such a situation. she'd rolled her eyes, pulling him in by the collar of his puffer coat till his lips met hers.

his eyes slowly closed as he registered what was happening. his hand pressured the back of her head, grasping strands of her hair between his fingers, and she squealed against his lips. hers were cold, tasting of mint and he felt the freezing gloss tingling against his.

he felt her hands along the sides of his head, their noses pressing together and the push and pull of their lips that moved in sync. his body became pressed on hers and it was like they were the only people in the world. they might've well have been.

and when they'd reluctantly part, clouds of their warm breath met in the middle as she stared up at him expectantly. he'd gulp again, a stuttering mess.

"fuck—be my girlfriend?" he'd manage out, maybe not exactly how he pictured because he'd imagine this scenario hundreds of times, but none like this.

she'd laugh at his nervousness, her arms wrapping around his neck as she'd exclaimed him, "yes."

his arms enclosed around her, his chin on her shoulder and he let out a massive sigh of relief as he saw the others cheering in the back.

"finally!" alex would call out with his hands curved around his mouth.

"told you so."

"whatever, take the damn money."

[painted-bees]

Raf's amount of self awareness and the amount of time he spends analyzing himself in his own head seemed a little far fetched until I got to the part about his past relationships and how badly things went despite having started therapy back then. It makes a lot more sense that he didn't get to this level of awareness and grace until way later after years of working on himself. But I really want to know how his relationship with Margie might have gone if he was less aware?

Oh, fun question lmao Assuming he never sees his behavior as something that he needs to work on: I think Margie's impulse to be honest and straightforward, and to wear her emotions on her sleeves would still have likely gotten her past his defenses and into a close relationship. But the closer/more important someone becomes to Raf, the more and more reactive/mercurial/mean he'd get. Those close relationships--the ones he treasures most--are the ones that pose the highest level of danger. They're the ones who'd hurt him the most if they betrayed him. Coupled with Margie's conflict-averse instinct to wilt, roll over, and apologize before considering if she'd even done anything wrong--we'd have likely seen a much more possessive and controlling Raf. We don't see that in his relationship with Lacey, because Lace would often bite back twice as hard, and was able to [very aggressively] assert boundaries with him. Margie, tho--so long as he kept encouraging and enabling her to make music, and providing warm, enthusiastic support on that front, she'd be easily convinced to change any behavior he didn't like--under the pretense that she was working on becoming a better, easier person to live with. I think, tho--if there ever arose a moment where he asserted that she couldn't pursue a music/career-related opportunity (that didn't require his involvement), if he threatened to take back all the 'nice things' he's given her as a tool of punishment/manipulation, or if he started discouraging her from vising friends or family--and if she couldn't reason with him on that front/it consistently resulted in a big argument every time--she'd end the relationship. She was, at least, raised well by her mother to identify that kind of situation as a 'get out now' 0 tolerance red flag of abuse. And--you know...if she had to do that, I think this would be the event that sees her move back home with her parents. Emotionally and psychologically, she'd lose a lot to this relationship. She'd need her family to help center herself again. Otherwise, Raf would likely sabotage the relationship for himself, and break things off with her over some catastrophic misunderstanding or another--where he is just unable and unwilling to hear her out and take her word at face value. But if certain lines are never crossed; if Margie learns to stifle/bury her excited impulses and exist as quietly as she is able to, and if Raf is able to pull himself back from enacting on paranoid compulsions just enough, he and Margie would probably find a tenuous but """comfortable""" stasis. Like with any relationship, they'd have moments both good and bad, catastrophes that maybe only resolve themselves for the convenience of it rather than out of a proper understanding, as well as tender moments of joyful whimsy, when the circumstances were right for it, that'd serve to remind them of why they're together in the first place and help bolster the staying-power of their relationship. But it'd all be balanced...very differently. They'd be a lot less fun, I think. Margie would have never suggested going to Cortes Island. She'd have been reluctant to suggest much at all. Raf would be stuck with the persistent suspicion that she resented him--and yanno--she might. But not for the reasons he'd think.

[wolven91]

Slight of Hand

Taurians are impressive to behold.

The males move like they float, never even so much as ruffling the silks they wore. Their ability to handle any situation, speak on a wide variety of topics, all the while being cool, calm and collected.

It *was* impressive.

The females were impressive by a whole different nature.

As tall as the tallest human, as strong as the strongest human. They were the very embodiment of 'macho'.

There was a ritual the females did that shocked any human who heard of it. Despite the females horns having the sensation of touch, those that wished to prove themselves, would dip their horns into a variety of molten metals.

Some would go gold for the looks, some would go silver or even steel. The hues might be varied, but it was the resistance to the pain that impressed any taurian who saw them.

A taurian with coated horns, was not one to trifle with.

Not all taurians could brag that however. That was only a small fraction of the population that chose to follow through, but all female taurians were impressed and fantasised what it would be like to survive the torture and walk away a true 'alpha'.

Marues was not one that ever believed she could get her horns dipped. Her pain threshold was very low and did not consider dipping even close to what she would want.

An ear piercing, however, was.

"Aw it's going to *hurt*!" She moaned, pacing back and forth.

The human merely held the piercing gun in one hand while she observed the, rather large, stud in between two fingers.

"Only for a moment Maru, now come on. Sit down."

It was weird to see a taurian nervous. They were huge creatures, still small compared to an ursidain, but when the shortest female taurian was as big as Shaquille O'Neil? It was a odd concept to think they'd panic at the idea of an ear piercing.

"But it'll hurt!" Exclaimed Marues, holding her hands over her large ears.

"For a second, come on, sit down so we can look. I won't do it, I want to see how it works and where you want it."

The taurian complied, but made a point of saying 'only to look'.

The human touched various points on the taurian's ear before one section along the bottom was chosen. It was the thinnest section possible, but the stud would look good.

At least Marues had taste.

"Alright, I'm going to count down." Explained the human as she punched a hole through the taurian's ear, clamping the stud into place without hesitation.

The taurian closed her eyes and braced as the human stood up and went to wipe the puncher down, cleaning the needle.

"Like 3, 2, 1, go or or or 3, 2, go?" Asked the taurian, peeking one eye to watch the human clean the gun.

"Mm, I usually countdown from 10. Really get the nerves going." Grinned the human, placing the gun down and retrieving a mirror.

"What?! You're so mean! Don't do that!" Demanded Marues. She'd come to the human because *normally* they were kind! At least Marues knew the human wouldn't tell anyone how much of a weakling Marues was being about this.

"Alright, alright. How about... I fit it when you're not paying attention?"

The taurian leveled a glare at the human, who was holding the hand held mirror out to the larger alien.

"Har har. Can we get on with it? I'm freaking out!"

"Just check that I've got the spot right in the mirror."

The taurian looked at the mirror, then back to the human.

"Yeah, that's right. Let's do it!"

"Cool. Tadaa. Done."

The taurian frowned, before looking down.

Looking back up.

Looking down and turning her head to see her ear more clearly.

She even gingerly touched it, wincing a fraction.

Marues looked up, blinking, her muzzle-like mouth working but no words coming out. The human merely grinned and gave a wink before walking to the kitchen to get a drink.

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 24: “I’m doing this because I care about you,”

Content warning: none

Villain knew the exact moment Hero snapped back into consciousness. Not because they were watching them, nor because of some particularly developed sense of hearing. No, Villain knew the exact moment Hero woke up because of the hacking, painful cough that tore through them the moment they opened their eyes.

By the time Villain had bookmarked their place and moved into their living room, Hero was gasping for air. They were clutching at their chest, blankets thrown haphazardly around their waist, tears dripping down their face as they struggled to breathe.

They looked horrible. Red faced and clammy, shaking with a constant chill despite the thick blanket Villain had thrown over them. Villain could practically see the fever wafting off of them. If there were a picture in the dictionary for the word ‘sick’, Hero’s face would be plastered there as a prime example.

It took Hero a moment to lift their gaze. When they did, their eyes widened in shock. “You—where, what–” Their eyes flicked across their surroundings at breakneck speeds, before returning to Villain with a confused glare. “Am I on your couch?!”

“It’s a sofa, but yes.”

They stared in disbelief. “Why?”

“I thought that bringing you to bed would be a tad too forward. Was I wrong?” Villain asked, voice a purr. They grinned at the way the redness on Hero’s cheeks darkened.

Hero scowled, “You're wrong for thinking I want to be on your stupid couch,” they grumbled, working to untangle themselves from the blankets. With an amount of effort Villain couldn’t help but notice, Hero lifted themselves onto unsteady legs, one hand still resting on the sofa’s arm.

They took a step. The jangling of a chain accompanied the movement.

Hero looked down, finally noticing the cuff connected to their left ankle. The other end was locked snugly around the sofa’s leg.

Hero turned to face Villain. They didn’t even look angry, simply annoyed. “Are you kidnapping me again?” they sighed.

Villain grinned. Ignoring the distrusting glare Hero sent their way, they snapped their fingers. Their abilities responded eagerly, and their once empty palm was filled.

A simple medicine cap appeared in Villain’s hand, filled to the brim with a thick, purple liquid.

Hero looked up at them like they'd grown a second head. “You brought me here to take medicine?”

“I brought you here because you dropped from the sky in a dead faint mid battle, before I so much as touched you,” There was an edge to Villain’s voice. They swallowed it, forcing their smile to remain in place. “I certainly wasn’t going to waltz up to your agency, carrying you like a princess. So I decided to take you home with me.”

Villain didn’t miss the way Hero’s eyes widened at their words. Or how their stare was filled with confusion like they had no memory of the day’s events.

Hero turned away. “It’s barely a cold. I didn’t need help.”

Didn’t need help. Yes, because someone ready to fall over in public, their allies nowhere in sight, in the middle of a fight with a villain, didn’t need help. It was ridiculous, the typical, endlessly stubborn non-logic they knew Hero for. It was usually something Villain found amusing. But looking at Hero now, the shadows under the eyes, the gauntness to their face that a simple cold could not explain, Villain felt only anger.

They couldn’t stop thinking about Hero falling. Their eyes rolling into the back of their skull, whatever retort they’d been about to make dissolving into a nonsensical slur. How they’d just dropped, falling like a bird shot from the sky.

Villain would never admit to the scream that’d torn from their lips at the sight. They didn’t want to consider how close of a call it’d been. If Villain had been just a little slower to act…

Villain pushed the thought from their mind, instead pushing the cap into Hero’s hands. Hero held it like Villain had just presented them with a dead rat.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m doing this because I care about you.”

Hero sighed, “You’re doing this because you like bothering me.”

“Those two sentiments aren’t mutually exclusive,” Villain grinned. “And there’s no fun in defeating you when a cold is doing the work for me.”

Hero glared for a long moment. Finally they sighed, defeated. They lifted the cup to their lips, throwing their head back and swallowing the medicine as if it were a shot of bourbon. They returned the cup to Villain’s outstretched hand without question. “Done. Can I leave now?”

Villain took the cap back graciously, sending it back to their bathroom with a wave of their hand. “And what made you think you’d be leaving so soon?”

“But I thought–,” a sudden cough interrupted them, hacking and thick with flem. Villain almost winced at the noise. “-- I took the stupid medicine, what else do you even want?!”

They wanted Hero to avoid keeling over in their foolish goal of saving every pathetic little life in the city. “Plenty. Your downfall, the keys to the city…,” they said instead. “But that’s besides the point. You won’t be doing any more heroics for the remainder of the day. I suspect you'll be dead to the world within the hour.”

Hero's eyes bulged. “D-did you drug me?!” Their voice squeaked with indignation.

“If you consider Nyquil a drug, then yes.”

“Oh,” and just like that, their anger faded. “Then I’ll be fine, a little cough medicine isn’t going to knock me out.”

“Have you had Nyquil before?” Villain asked. ”Darling, it’s infamous, and you already look dead on your feet. I wouldn’t bet on your chances”

Hero crossed their arms, pouting like a stubborn toddler. “I’ll be fine. I'm not even tired,” Villain noted that they also sounded like a stubborn toddler. They decided not to mention either fact.

Villain sighed, hands moving to rest on their hips. “Your abuse of the word ‘fine’ aside, I’ll make you a deal.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Hero countered, scowling. And then they sniffed, entirely ruining the impact of the expression.“You let me go, and I don’t kick your ass.”

Villain ignored them. “Stay for an hour. If you’re still awake by then, I’ll let you go.”

“I don’t have time to just sit around!” Hero groaned, pulled at the chain on their leg. The cuff was made of a soft, comfortable material, but it was sturdy. It stayed firm despite their tugging, which only encouraged them to tug harder. “I’m supposed to be on duty!”

“You’re also actively being kidnapped, as you put it. Most hostages don’t get to negotiate the terms of their stay. Be thankful.”

Hero glared, expression more of a pout than anything else. Red faced and ruffled hair, they looked as intimidating as a kitten.

Villain grinned. “But fine, if you’re so insistent on leaving, I can negotiate. Stay for forty five minutes.”

“Hell no. Twenty five.”

“Absolutely not. Thirty, and I get to pick the movie.”

Hero raised an eyebrow. “The movie?”

“Well, I’m not going to just sit here waiting for you to pass out.” Villain huffed.

Hero glared for a long moment, arms crossed. Villain could see them considering their options, stubborn pride battling against bone-deep exhaustion.

They saw the moment Hero’s exhaustion won out. They sighed, shoulders slumping, and they flopped back into their seat. “Fine. Thirty minutes and I’m out of here.”

Grinning, Villain sat themselves besides Hero, making a show of getting comfortable. They spread the blanket across both of them. Hero huffed, but didn’t move.

“I hope I get you sick.” Hero sniffled.

“I’m not exactly human, my dear; your little bug won’t touch me. Feel free to continue to hope however.”

The pair sat in near silence for a moment, the only sound the occasional hacking cough. After several minutes of consideration, Villain settled on a film. A simple, vapid romantic comedy. Utterly unremarkable and dull. The perfect film to fall asleep to.

They turned to their nemesis, finger hovering over the play button. “Any complaints?”

Hero shrugged. “Whatever. It's not like I'll be watching.”

“Because you'll be asleep, I know.”

“Because I'll be leaving.”

“Certainly. Whatever you say…” Villain’s voice dripped with condescension. Hero only huffed.

Villain flicked the movie on and snuggled into the blanket.

The film was just as unimpressive as Villain had hoped. It was just interesting enough to be vaguely entertaining, but it was clearly a film designed to be background noise. Which was perfect, of course.

Villain wasn’t paying the film any mind. What they were truly focused on was Hero. They’d tucked themselves underneath the blankets, half-curled into the covers. Their arms were crossed over their chest, expression set as if their very honor depended on them staying awake.

Hero was fighting a battle against exhaustion, and it was obvious they were losing. Within the first ten minutes, they’d already begun snuggling into the covers, pulling the material close to their trembling frame. Their eyes were barely open by the fifteen minute park. They were still sitting upright, but their head would tip forward every few minutes, eyes falling shut. They’d always jerk themselves back to wakefulness moments later. Villain didn’t miss the way they’d glance over to Villain each time it happened, expression embarrassed. Villain carefully did not meet their gaze.

Villain resisted a smile when Hero finally leaned back fully, resting their head against the sofa.

By the half hour mark, Hero had gone entirely slack. Their mouth was slightly ajar, quiet, congested snores the only noise they made. They were out like a light, just like Villain had predicted.

Slowly, carefully, Villain leaned towards them. “Time’s up darling,” Villain whispered into Hero's ear, tone thick with amusement. “Should I let you go? You seem rather comfortable.”

“Hnnn…”Hero only grumbled in response, words unintelligible. They shifted in place, and Villain froze and Hero flopped over, falling to lean heavily against their side. They tucked themselves into Villain, nose pushing itself into the crook of Villain’s neck.

They hummed sleepily, content, before falling still again.

“Oh,” Villain didn’t dare move. They could feel heat coming off Hero in waves, fever leaving their skin clammy against Villain’s. Their breath ticked against Villain’s neck. Neither feeling was particularly unpleasant.

They tried to move away, carefully shifting Hero’s body to rest against the sofa’s arm. But then Hero gave a half-conscious whine, fingers blindly gripping at Villain’s shirt. Even in their sleep they were stubborn as ever.

Villain sighed, accepting their impromptu downgrade to Hero’s cushion. They made a mental note to continue their ‘kidnapping’ for the remainder of the week.

[ticktockmyclockworkhart]

I don't really think of any modern AUs for red dead for some reason, idk, I have modern AU thoughts for any other piece of media that takes place in the past but for some reason I just can't separate these guys from the old west for the life of me

BUT the one modern AU thought I had and that I have very frequently is the thought of the entire Van Der Linde gang going to disneyland. That thought just tickles me. Like

Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen make it their mission to go meet every single disney princess and they also kidnap Arthur and make him go with them. But he actually ends up having a kinda fun time because he enjoys wonder and whimsy, doesn't mean every character interaction before they took pictures wasn't stiflingly awkward though. he mumbled the entire time and refused to do any whimsical poses for the pictures

Hosea and Dutch are camped out somewhere shady by the park entrance with everyone's bags and snacks and water to act as home base and collect all their idiots at the end of the day, the only time they move is when an employee runs up to them and asks if the exhausted man with the scars on his face who fell asleep on a bench in direct sunlight by splash mountain and may or may not be suffering heat stroke belongs to them and they have to go help John before the park calls an ambulance. They go on exactly one ride at night, the jungle cruise, with arthur and john. Hosea laughs at all the skipper's bad jokes and Dutch thinks the whole thing is fucking stupid

Susan is also camped out with them but she gets worried about everyone too often and keeps getting up to go to everyone's last known location to make sure they're alright, but at some point Sean tells her to go take a picture with the evil stepmother from cinderella because they look like twins so she just goes back to Hosea and Dutch and lets them fend for themselves

Lenny is genuinely having a fucking BLAST but is really embarrassed about it. He does get a picture with belle because she's his favorite disney princess (bookworms ftw) and he runs into Arthur there being held captive by the girls, they both rib each other about what brought them there later. After everything is said and done though he and Arthur totally go on some rides together

Sean WAS hanging out with Lenny but they got separated within like three minutes of entering the park because Sean kept wandering off so Lenny left him to fend for himself, but he actually stayed out of trouble the entire time, surprisingly. He just rode the carousel again and again for like 8 hours because he was piss drunk before he even got to the park (since you can't drink there) and if he closed his eyes it almost didn't give him motion sickness (he never considered the possibility that he could also just not ride anything? Or maybe go to where Hosea and Dutch said they'd be?)

John is living that one viral post where he sat on a bench and fell asleep from heat exhaustion, then woke up to his ice cream melted all over him and mickey mouse putting a cold towel on his forehead. He was there because Jack wanted to ride splash mountain btw and John was terrified of getting on

Kieran lived one of my magical disney park experiences, which was he went on one ride with the group and was feeling good about being included, but then he got off the ride and literally couldn't find a single person he rode with, so he's wandering the park aimlessly worrying if everyone just left him there (this is not exactly what happened to me btw. I went on a ride with an uncle who is no longer an uncle who had a tbi and so could act unpredictably some times, mostly by virtue of being incredibly spacy, he got out of line to go get a drink and when he came back the line had moved up a lot more so he just told me he'd meet me at the end of the ride. Then at the end of the ride I literally could not find him. I wandered the entire area for like twenty minutes realizing he'd wandered off somewhere before I finally gave up and reported it to my cousin who I kid you not was completely unfazed and told me not to worry about it, they'd find him eventually. I still felt so bad about it even after he turned up not even thinking twice about the whole thing)

Abigail is busy being a responsible mother to two children (her husband and also Jack), Jack is having the absolute time of his life and they've lost John about ten times because he's too scared to go on the rides and also too scared of the disney characters to join them for pictures so Abigail eventually gave up looking for him, Dutch and Hosea would find him and babysit him (they did)

Pearson is floating around between the different groups, he's got the big backpack with the snacks, water and sunscreen in it while Hosea and Dutch were holding onto whatever he couldn't carry. He's like pretty ambivalent about everything happening and is kinda just happy to be there, but he is hella interested in all the food vendors and taking notes on what everyone in the gang seemed to enjoy so he can try and make it himself later

Swanson got a little too silly before coming to the park and ended up stuck on the magic teacups ride because he couldn't process how to get off. He was at park lost and found for like two hours before Dutch and Hosea found him, only for him to end up stuck on the teacups AGAIN like an hour later

Sadie thinks this entire trip is fucking stupid and she exclusively sticks to the biggest thrill rides, spending most of her time in california adventure (is that part of the park still called that? it's changed so much since I've last been there), a few people who also enjoy thrill rides have tried accompanying her on her bender but she literally never takes a break and apparently can't get motion sickness

Bill is lost. He was pretty sure he was with Javier and the Marstons at first, but he lost them at some point and now he's stuck in the star wars land and doesn't know where the exit is, small children keep pointing at him and making wookie noises, and he really just needs a drink tbh

Javier has been EVERYWHERE. He has a plan and an itinerary, either keep pace with him or you're getting left behind (rip Bill). He finishes his schedule within like three hours and then goes to hang out with Sadie on her masochistic thrill ride loop before he has to tap out after like five thrill rides in quick succession. He started the day hanging out with the Marstons and Jack insisted he wear a pair of mickey mouse ears, so like the cool uncle he is he agreed and in every picture he's in he's standing there in bedazzled mouse ears with an extremely stoic expression on his face

Charles silently slinks off to critter country (is it still called that? idk how the park has changed) upon getting there because he wants to go see winnie the pooh. After a couple hours of wandering aimlessly and wanting to hit people who crowd too close to him he finds and joins Lenny and Arthur. They go on some rides and then go see winnie the pooh again. Tigger grabs Arthur by the hands and makes him bounce with him and Arthur is in such a whimsical mood and has been doing goofy shit around the park all day at this point that he actually enthusiastically participates. Charles considers it a 10/10 time

Micah was definitely not allowed into the park. 100%

Strauss didn't want to come to disneyland, he had work to do, and the entire gang tried their hardest but unlike several of the other gang members they were unable to force Strauss to join. Party pooper :(

Uncle is having a great fuckin time. He went onto the haunted mansion and just fell asleep and rode the loop until he was personally escorted off by staff because they were worried he died in his sleep or something

Trelawny is there!! They have not seen him for four months but he is there for some reason! Late into the night Arthur got onto the haunted mansion, turned to his left and Trelawny was just. there in the doombuggy with him

[furiousgoldfish]

I have this reoccurring problem where I feel like I've found a friend in someone, and then some time later, this person does something to hurt me, and rather than apologizing, they snap at me, act like I'm awful and a nuisance to them, and generally get very angry with me. First it makes me feel guilty, and I go over everything I did to see how I deserved this, but then I realize I didn't do anything, they just hurt me and snapped at me, made me feel like it's my fault. And then I get scared that this person could do that, because I can't even imagine doing that to anyone, it's so deeply unethical and shitty, but people do it like it's their second nature. Once I realize that this person scares me, I know I have to get distance and move away from the friendship if I don't want to live a very anxious and triggering life, so I do that. And thus I have no friends anymore.

Now for me, this occurred easily over 30 or 40 times with different people, to the point where I've started to wonder if I maybe draw this behaviour out of them. Because I will usually pick people who I believe would never do that, who seem to be kind, understanding, gentle, funny, easy going, I go for that almost every time, and still they snap at me. I'm wondering if it's because everyone in their mind thinks there's one person somewhere they're allowed to snap at, and since I'm very mild tempered, easy going and understanding, it feels to them like snapping at me couldn’t possibly have any consequences?  Again, I don't understand this, I would rather never snap at any person in my life.

My problem is that sometimes, I end up very bonded to these people, and I start building hope that maybe I could be normal, have friends, function in society, just because it feels for a bit like I'm accepted, I'm allowed to socialize and chat and joke around and tell things to someone, and this means the world to me. I've lived in an environment where I was not allowed any of that. So when these specific people snap at me, my hopes crumble to the ground, and I'm back into the place where I don't feel like I'm a person anymore. Even worse, I get triggered back into my childhood, where my parents screamed at me telling me how disgusting I am, how nobody will ever want anything to do with me, and how I'm the worst thing to ever exist on the planet. That's how I end up feeling when anyone turns against me, or abandons me. I keep it to myself, because I don't want the triggers affecting the friendship. But they affect me deeply.

That feeling of someone I care about finding me disgusting and awful and poisonous gives me so much pain I want to curl up and disappear. I want to not exist anymore. I would rather be alone forever than experience more of that. And that's exactly what I do; I curl up in my own little corner and don't socialize out of terror that more of this will happen, because it does happen so often and I still never see it coming.

I know on some deeply logical level, that people are snapping at me because it's easier for them to do that than to face that they've done something wrong, that they've hurt our friendships and acted badly towards me; they need it to be my fault so they'd feel better about themselves. Taking it out on me is just an easy route because I have zero vindication in me and probably won't ever snap back or get angry in return; I'll just withdraw. I'm always too worried I've genuinely done something wrong when it happens, I'll apologize a thousand times, I'll spend a while trying to figure out what's the truth, and then before I even think about getting angry, I'll be swallowed by pain and sorrow that this happened to me again.

Has anyone found any ways to have people not snap at you when they hurt you? What kind of change in attitude would achieve this? Do I just have bad friend-picking skills? Is this just a normal part of life that other people can handle because being snapped on doesn't make them suicidal? Is it considered normal that your friend will sometimes snap at you when they hurt you? Is it not a glaring red flag? In some cases people will not only snap but also gaslight me about what happened, and I know gaslighting is way over the line. Has this been happening to others? Please give me any opinions or experiences of this, especially if you found a way to deal with it.