#but I would prefer if eventually was like

[losttheoldone-hereweareagain]

Gonna chime in and say that all the jokes from straight women about how they would prefer to be gay so they could stop dating men, and bi/pan women saying their male partner is a second choice feed directly into this. So does the bear discourse

Do I understand why these things got so big on social media? Absolutely. I'm an afab rape survivor, I've been stalked, I was raised under an authoritarian father and religion that treated women as second class, I've lived in fear of men. But when you treat every man like he's a threat, eventually they will believe you. Stuff like that feeds directly into the old purity culture lie that men are born sexually aggressive

Am I saying you shouldn't take steps to protect yourself? No. But I'm saying be logical about it. Stop reacting out of panic and fear. Stop perpetuating the lie of society that men are inherently bad and women are inherently good. Stop feeding into gender roles that make male and female binary opposites because it reinforces shitheads like Tate and Musk and Peterson

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[junethestudent]

Object of Obsession

» Murderer Kim Minjeong x Investigator F! Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Content Warning: Discussion of murder, descriptions of dead bodies, reader is drugged, violence, dubcon / noncon, and swearing. [Y/N’s L/N is Choi.]

A/N: This will be divided into two parts, I am not positive on when part two will be released.

I would also like to say that I do not condone violent behaviors.

10:00PM - Cho Industries, Abandoned Warehouse

The darkness of the warehouse shadows Minjeong as she works, her gloves covered in the sticky blood of her last victim. She wipes away the sweat collecting on her brow and breathes in the musty air of the warehouse. On the cold floor blood pools at her feet and coats the skin of her body, painting it a crimson red. 

The smell of blood is worse this time, with a sickeningly ripe, metallic scent. It has a pungence that smothers her other senses, distracting her as she works to clean up her mess. But frustration seems to override her mind, irritating her to the fullest as she stares at the lifeless body in front of her. 

She would not be under so much pressure if someone had not called in a noise disturbance. Unfortunately, leaving the body and the weapon is her only option. As seconds pass by she has little to no time to waste anymore. 

“Fucking hell.. if that door wasn’t so loud..” She mutters under her breath, the only other sound audible being the police radio blaring from her phone in the background. Surely she would have been caught by now if she wasn’t aware of the every move of those idiotic policemen.

As the sirens grow closer Minjeong’s anxiety only grows, making her heart pound erratically. Through the few glass windows of the building Minjeong can see the glare of red and blue lights. She takes a step back, tripping over the sledgehammer that lay behind her. Her ankle bends to the side as she catches herself, a surge of pain rushing up her leg, evoking a string of curse words. 

She hurriedly pulls her body up, gritting her teeth as the aching pain settles in her leg, leaving her taking deep swallows as if there were no air at all. Steadying herself on the uninjured foot, Minjeong hobbles to the back door, leaning on the broken handle for support. 

One last time she looks back, eyes surveying the damage of her actions. To many her work is morbid and against standard morals, but she views it as art. The bloodied sledgehammer that was used to cut so many lives short, and her last victim’s mangled body. 

The perfect execution of murder - at least in her eyes. She knows that eventually she’ll be sentenced to prison, left to rot alone in a cell. Or maybe karma will completely end her, leaving her cold and dead the same as all of her victims. But not now, right now she still has purpose. 

-

10:45PM - Cho Industries, Abandoned Warehouse

You grasp the cold plastic of your radio, putting it to your mouth.

“Choi, 10-97.”

“Copy.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes in exhaustion. Sleep is what you’ve been aiming to prioritize, but within the last few weeks a spree of murders has erased any means of a semi-normal sleep schedule. The only reason you were still functioning was due to energy drinks and an unhealthy amount of double shot coffees.  

Opening the door of the car you are immediately hit with the feeling of chilling air biting at you, making you shiver in response. Down the gravel road of the warehouse are numerous cop cars, the familiar flashing of blue and red lights reflecting off of every surface. Officers are sprinkled around the property, some examining objects while others search the perimeter. 

It reminded you of your days as an officer - not that you enjoyed them. You were much more reserved as of now, preferring to keep to yourself. Even going as far as to have an unmarked black car to draw less attention to yourself as you worked, keeping the gaze of others off of you. Working alone has always been your strong suit, it allows you more freedom.

After a few moments you decide to finally rise out of the car, slamming the door behind you. Your shoes scrape against the pavement as you walk up the driveway, only stopping once you reach the chief of police, Hwan. 

“Detective Choi, nice of you to join us.” He speaks in a thick gravelly tone, each sentence sounding as if he were struggling with his words. He runs his fingers through the bulk of his hair, a flurry of gray and white strands showing as he ruffles it. Based on his expression you can tell that the investigation has been rough.

It is to be expected of the police. Even when you were low in the ranks, an officer yourself, you never thought too highly of them. In your mind policemen were like the brute force of all emergency services, never often using their heads.

Hwan was different though, he had an old type of wisdom to him. 

Speaking of Hwan, he raises his hand over his shoulder, signaling you to follow him inside of the warehouse. The strong smell of fresh blood causes you to gag as you both walk to the center of the room. 

In the back corner of the room you could see a singular policeman puking his dinner out - must be a newbie. Although it was hard for you to adjust to the smell, you had never thrown up before. It was understandable though, as the mangled body in the center of the room was enough to permanently scar the mind of any normal civilian. 

You were shocked by the sight of the body too, honestly. Half of his head had caved in and the other side was crusted in blood, his face completely unrecognizable with the damage inflicted upon him. The thought of dying in such a gruesome way made you shudder, to think of the pain that the victim had to endure before finally dying. 

Next to him lay a sledgehammer, worn through and clearly used multiple times. In fact, with the amount of wear, there was a chance that this weapon was used on the previous victims. 

“After we investigate the rest of the scene, the sledgehammer will need to be sent to the lab for DNA analysis.” Hwan rubs his face with both hands, adjusting the rim of his glasses, his eyes shut tightly. He clearly felt burdened by the case. When it came to those who commit mass killings, they were usually so caught up in the thrill of the hunt that they unknowingly left evidence. 

However, this person was clearly intelligent, and if they had not been rushed this time they likely would have fled with the body again. “You would think,” you pause for a second, “ that some clue would have been found now that would tell us something about the killer. Considering they were in a rush, there must be something else.”

“Any reason you suspect the killer was in a rush? It’s unlike you.. I mean to make assumptions so lightly,” he grumbles, taking a step forward, his eyes darting around the emptiness of the warehouse. 

“The previous victims were all murdered at abandoned areas, and then taken to secondary locations to be dumped. Every body beforehand was found in open fields about fifteen miles from the original killing site.” 

“We know that all of the victims were murdered with sledgehammers, which somewhat confirms that one person has carried out all of the killings. Regarding the previous cases, the murderer never left a weapon behind because they were never in a rush. You can’t just lug a sledgehammer around in a hurry.”

The words fell from your mouth so easily, it all made perfect sense to you, like clicking in another puzzle piece. Considering all of the cases you had solved before, this was a walk in the park for you. 

Your eyes meet with Hwan’s for a second, a hint of admiration in his eye as he processes your words. You adjust the collar of your shirt, waiting for his response when something catches your attention.

‘That door, the one near the exit. Was it forced open when you arrived?” Your footsteps become heavy as you rush to the doorway, the sound echoing off of the walls. Hwan follows quickly in pursuit, his breathing all huffy as he tries to keep up.

“I had asked when I arrived on the scene.. they never spoke much of it. I guess they figured that it was due to the building being so old.” He clears his throat, his gaze focused on the broken push handle. 

“Your team often overlooks these things, you know that Hwan?” Your annoyance is clear as you rummage through your coat pocket for a flashlight, gripping it in your hand as you force the door open. As you peak outside and shine the flashlight down you notice small footsteps caked into the mud, the trail ending just a few feet away.

“Some small footsteps those are,” Hwan towers over you from behind, the smell of cologne and cheap cigarettes wafting into your nose. 

“I think I prefer the smell of dead bodies over your.. funk.” You snap at him, leaning back inside the building, the door still ajar as you walk back to the center of the room. Hwan follows behind you, chuckling uncontrollably at your outburst, high laugh heavy and throaty - likely due to those cheap ass gas station cigarettes.

“Well what now, Choi?”

“The body needs to be covered and the body removal team should be called in to transport the victim to the morgue, the rest of the evidence needs to be photographed and collected, and I’ll write my report soon after,” you flex your shoulders, feeling the deep ache in all of your joints. 

Hwan nods and works his way to the rookie while you make your way over to the body, pulling out a sleek black camera to capture an image. You repeat this process multiple times, starting with the body, then the sledgehammer, and the blood trails.

The last area that needs photographing is the back door and trail of footsteps. As you make your way back to the door you find the mini flashlight in your pocket, gripping it hard as you step outside. The brightness of the light reveals the footprints once again. On your other hand you hold the camera steadily, clicking on the button. 

The first flash shoots out, lighting the space a few inches in front of you. When the camera flashes the final and second time, you notice a shadow darting back hurriedly. It catches you off guard, your heart dropping as you listen for any indicator that someone is present. 

You hesitate for sometime but decide to brush it off, figuring that your lack of sleep is causing slight hallucinations. If Hwan saw you right now he’d be enjoying the sight of your skittish behavior.

Speaking of Hwan, as you walk back into the warehouse there he is, smoking another one of those cigarettes. “I think this qualifies as tampering with evidence,” you eye him closely, watching his face, eyebrows furrowing like they always do, the primary cause of the crease in between them. 

“Mm.. possibly,” he grunts out, blowing a plume of smoke out towards you. Asshole.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, unfortunately. I’ll send my report out to you after the autopsy results come in, hopefully tomorrow. If anything happens before then, make sure to call me.” And with that you exit the building, the cold air blowing against you as you walk towards your car.

The thought of rest becomes so tempting as you get into your car, buckling your seatbelt and jerking the key into the ignition. All you want is some nourishment and a place to sleep, but with being so far away from home you’ll have to make do with a motel and whatever is open at this time.

You switch the gear on the car, the sound of the radio playing faintly in the background - Seoul Drift. You finally feel at ease as you drive down the empty streets, the only downside being the lack of food options. Nothing really catches your eye until you pass a relatively empty diner. 

You turn on your blinker and pull into the parking lot, away from the other two cars. Most likely the employees who want to be anywhere but at work. The dashboard clock reads 12:32AM. You’re surprised they’re even open at such a time.. desperate for business maybe. 

Letting the previous song fade out you turn the car off, the safety light darkening as you exit the car. It’s eerily quiet outside, the only other sound being the chirping of crickets in the distant bushes.

“There’s no need for me to be nervous..” you say it out loud, reassuring yourself that there was no chance of anyone harmful being nearby. It doesn’t help that the street lights are out though, one singular light flickering near the curb of the street. Disregarding those thoughts you walk inside, looking around at the interior of the diner. 

The lights were warm but dim, and the place was somewhat rundown; the seats peeling, the wooden tables with minor blemishes, and the heavy clutter near the bar area. At this point, you paid no attention to it, messy bars were the least of your worries tonight. 

Deciding to seat yourself due to the lack of staff, you choose the booth nearest to the back. Only then do you notice the other lone customer situated in the booth opposite from you. She stares at the seats across from her, her fork poking at the small portioning of dumplings in front of her. Her general attire was odd.. a black trenchcoat with a white cropped tank top and shorts to match.

Despite that, she was really pretty, handsome even. With pale, ghost-like skin she looked like a vampire almost, her paleness complimenting the color of her hair. She had a few gashes near her lips and nose -  from a scuffle possibly? You were in no mood to ask, not that you would anyway.

Seconds later the kitchen door swings open, a middle-aged woman with a notepad approaching you. She smiles, more energetic than you expected her to be at such a time. 

“What can I get’cha? We’re still serving dinner right about now.. but if you’d like coffee we can still make that!” What a sweet woman, so full of life. You were so caught up in watching the girl that you had not even browsed the menu. “Uhh do you guys have any soups? Maybe just some water for a drink..”

“We have miso soup, you can have it warm or cold. We also have vegetable soup and rice soup.” She watches you intently, probably focused on the dark circles lining your eyes. 

“Ah, I’ll have the miso soup.. uhh warm. Please.” You shut the menu and nod at her as she walks off, hand still scribbling in her mini notepad. That’s when you notice the girl watching you now, her face expressionless as her eyes sweep you up and down, almost as if she recognizes you. 

It’s weird, yes. But she could be any stoner or freak hanging around, it had nothing to do with you. You were in no mood to interrogate someone over their manners. And anyway, your main concern was finding the bathroom in this place, you hadn’t gone since before arriving on scene. 

You jump up from the booth, spotting the bathroom and making your way inside, the lights way brighter inside the bathroom than the little diner. Choosing the nearest stall you quickly handle your business and step back out, watching yourself in the mirror. You were a mess, it was easier to see that as you washed your hands.

Groaning you run your fingers through your hair, giving it a quick fix and washing your face with the cool water from the sink. You looked more presentable now, not that you cared. Okay, you kind of cared..

Yawning, you walk back to your booth to find your food piping hot at the table. It might be the most appetizing food you’ve seen in weeks. Slipping into the booth you drink a spoonful of the soup, the rich broth feeling warm in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the girl watching you carefully, waiting for something. 

Choosing to ignore her you continue to eat your soup, occasionally taking a drink of your water to balance out the hotness of the soup. With each bite you can feel sleep creeping up on you, but not in a comforting way. You feel sick, your head racing but your body still. 

You drop your head against the table, spoon falling to the floor as you rest silently. Not wanting to move another inch out of fear of throwing up. You breathe heavily, eyes blinking slowly, as you watch the girl approach you, bending down to your level and stroking your cheek. 

The next few minutes are a blur as she pulls you from the booth, forcing your arm around her neck and guiding you out the door of the restaurant. Her other hand works around your waist, digging into your pocket until she finds your car keys. She’s firm but gentle with you as she drops you down into the passenger seat of your own car, shutting the door as quietly as possible.

You feel dizzy as you watch her get into the driver’s seat. She turns to face you, an amused smirk plastered to her face as she leans over, buckling you into the car. You can almost smell her as she leans into you, her arms grabbing the buckle and strapping you inside. 

“From now on you’ll be my upper hand on those pigs.”

-

1:55AM - Song Motel, Room 127

Your head feels fuzzy and warm as you stare up at the ceiling. The woman is above you, naked, watching you carefully as you struggle to move. She brushes her hair from out of her face, the red gashes that once marked her lips and nose now gone. “You.. you wanted that.. did it..” your words are slurred and you can tell that she honestly feels a bit guilty as she watches you, her eyes narrowing slightly. 

“Maybe I overdid it a bit..” She pulls you by your legs until your ass is pressed against her. You turn your head to the side, focused on the cheap A/C blowing at you. You’ve retained the feeling in your arms but you still find it difficult to move anywhere. “You’re not..” Your mouth feels like rubber, the words at the tip of your tongue, but somehow stuck.

“Minjeong. You call me Minjeong. Do you understand?” Her tone is serious, like she’s daring you to run your mouth back to her. And you don’t. You physically cannot talk, coherently anyway. So you nod instead, pleading with your eyes for her mercy.

Minjeong ignores it, her strong hands spreading your legs open. You understand why you feel so cold now, the clothes once on your body were thrown askew halfway across the room, your body completely exposed and vulnerable to her. Who would have thought that the weirdo across from you at the restaurant was this fucked in the head? You knew that she was odd, but you never suspected she would have been a creep.. not like this. 

“Come here. Give me your hand..” She pulls your hand with her own, fingers intertwined for a moment before she presses the palm of your hand against her dick. She grunts softly as she positions your fingers around it, making you lightly pump against it, her dick growing in size with each slow stroke. 

Minjeong drops her head back, her hips thrusting faster, so desperate to get her cock wet in your hand. Her labored breaths grow heavier each time your hand touches her tip, precum dripping from the tip of it. She wasn’t even trying to make much of an effort at this point, just mindlessly thrusting like an animal in heat. 

You could feel yourself becoming wetter just by watching her, and you knew that was wrong. The fact that you wanted her more than anything else, the fact that you were going to, no, willing to let her do what she wanted to you, it was all wrong. Minjeong was aware of that, she was aware that her charm was too much for someone like you to handle. Someone who never had time for sexual encounters, someone who was dripping wet just from getting her off. You’d be her little toy. 

Eventually she grows tired of your thrusting, wanting something more than the pressure of your hand. She rests her head in between the crook of your neck, teasing the skin with the suction of her mouth, purple marks forming on the surface of your skin. She whines a bit as she holds her dick, smacking it against her own hand causing the precum to smear on her palm. 

“Fuck.. so good..” she whispers into your ear, her hands on your shoulders as she struggles to find your entrance. She misses a few times, cursing as she does so, but after three tries she manages to push herself inside, stretching your tight cunt out.

It almost immediately draws a reaction from you, as if the drug within your bloodstream had never been there at all. Wrapping your arms around her back you begin to claw, leaving red marks on her snow white skin, but it only makes her pump faster. The warmth of your pussy gripping around her cock is like heaven, her eyes rolling back as your slick pours onto her length, making her cock a big wet mess. 

Every few seconds she pulls out her slick coated cock and rubs it against your clit, a sadistic look on her face as your moans fill the room. But just as quickly as her cock comes out, she jams it back inside, watching the bulge from her thick cock form in your tummy. 

You try to regain your bearings, to focus, but the hot tingling feeling and the sound of her balls slapping against your ass only confuses you even more. You’re both so desperate at this point, you don’t even struggle when she forces your legs up, allowing her to go balls deep inside of your pussy.

“Hold still.. stay there.. be a good girl for me.” Her thrusts are slower but way harder now, causing some pain as she thrusts, but it never replaces how fucking good she feels in you, your entire cunt filled to the brim with her cock. You can feel it now, her balls pulsing as she comes closer to filling you with her seed. 

“Minjeong.. Jeong- Jeongie!” That was the final straw for her. She bottoms out inside of you, thick ropes of cum shooting deep into you. It makes you clench each time, as if you were milking her cock for every single ounce of cum. 

You’re yelping now, even as she pulls out of you. Her seed spilling out of your pussy as she pulls out, cock wet and now semi-soft. You have little to no energy now, your body giving out with those last few thrusts of hers. She rises from the bed searching for something in the nightstand near you, and then you see it, duct tape. 

You no longer feel like fighting her anymore. You’d rather sleep, you’d rather accept your losses and dream. She knows that, you know that she knows that. 

-

2:35AM - Song Motel, Room 127

Minjeong sits on the bed next to you, watching you intently as you doze off into sleep. Even to someone like her you look adorable with your head turned to the side, and your arms sprawled out above your head. 

She takes a deep breath, finding some sense of calm again. Showing her emotions, even if you weren’t conscious, was considered a sign of weakness to her.

The sound of the aircon turning off quickly pulls her from her thoughts again, her attention back to you. You look cold to her, goosebumps forming on your arms, your body curling up to preserve some warmth. Minjeong tries to ignore it, to rid herself of any sympathy, but her stubbornness lasts no longer than a few seconds. She rises from the bed, cautious to not wake you from your slumber as she covers you with the bulky comforter. 

She drops to her knees near the edge of the bed, observing the sound of your breathing. “I hope you’ll come to understand me..” Her words are directed at you, even though she knows you cannot hear her. But she needs to speak her mind, to justify herself.

To be truthful she really had no intent of harming you, not until you showed up at the diner. Without a lead detective the case will slow, completely halt even. Right now you’re her prized possession, her wild card.

Her eyes were on you from the moment you had stepped onto the crime scene. She had never actually left. She was eager to see who had been pursuing her, who had been trying so hard to take her down. It was even better that you had no idea she was the one who had been killing. 

-

4:45AM - Song Motel, Room 127

You wake up suddenly, the sound of your ringtone buzzing in the distance. Instantly you go up to grab it but are stopped by your restraints. Everything comes rushing back then, the restaurant, the kidnapping, the sex, the.. Minjeong. The girl from the restaurant.. Minjeong. 

You pull against the tape, praying that the friction will be enough to wear it out. It hurts as it digs against your skin, but it begins to stretch, your wrists slipping out of your confines. Rushing to your phone you pick it up and tap the return call button - all twenty calls from Hwan. ‘

The second he picks up you go into a tyrant, desperately explaining yourself - kind of.

“I’m sorry, I was sleeping! I mean.. heavily y’know the case has been.. a lot!”

“I don’t have time for your explanations Choi. Get down here, the abandoned YG parking lot, now.” He hangs up, leaving you silent on the other end. 

Groaning you look around the room for your clothing, butt ass naked as you walk near the entertainment center and dig through your pile of clothes, putting each piece on hurriedly.

The second your clothes are on you ram into the motel door, the hinges squeaking as it opens. Your eyes search through the lot, eyes stopping on your black car left in the corner. 

“Hey, you should keep it down and be mindful of others,” an older man spits out, cigarette halfway out of his mouth as he approaches you. 

“God.. fuck off!” Is what you were thinking, but accidentally said. It didn’t matter to you, not at this point in time. You pull at the handle and almost fall back as the door opens, your keys still left in the ignition. 

It was sheer luck that she left the keys inside of the car, but that means she could still be around somewhere. And between dealing with Hwan or Minjeong, you’d choose Hwan any day. 

You start the car, almost jerking that bitch back into another car as you pull out, the man watching you in pure shock as you speed off. 

With your right hand clutching the steering wheel you type the destination into the car's touchscreen, foot pressed heavily against the pedal as you speed down the streets. You’re scared of Hwan, of facing off with a murderer, everything. But it’s part of your job and you carry that on your chest.

-

5:35AM - YG Parking Garage, Entrance

You rush out of the door, barely even stopping the car as you open the door, the headlights brightly shining onto the building.

Hwan stands on his lonesome, back facing you as he stares up at the abandoned parking garage, his shoulders tense and flexed back. 

“The killer is in there,” he says it so surely, no doubt showing in his deep voice. He keeps his back turned to you and trains his eyes on the concrete below his shoes. 

You join his side and stare straight into the main entrance of the lot, mentally preparing yourself for whatever may come. Nothing has happened and yet you already feel a deep dread all throughout your body.

“There was a disturbance call again. Reports of an unknown person wandering the perimeter. I’ve instructed other units to be prepared on nearby streets. I figured the killer would be alerted if we all showed up with our sirens blaring.. or our headlights on the building.” 

Hwan begins to step forward, drawing his gun out in front of him, his finger close against the trigger. He looks back at you finally, a willful but scared look in his dark brown eyes. It was all routine to you both, constantly being forced to face life and death.

You join him at his side, drawing your own gun and clicking the safety off. Without further exchange in words you both make your way inside the building, clearing the first corner and working your way up the garage. 

The only sound to be heard is the echoing of your footsteps and the ever so faint breathing of Hwan. You wondered if someone as calm and collected as him could really be so nervous. He always seemed so strong, like a father you could follow around and count on to protect you. So if even he was on edge, then how should you feel? 

Both of you wrap around the second floor of the garage, whipping yourselves around the pillars and empty custodial rooms inside the building. With each step you grow closer to third floor, and your anticipation only eats away at you more than before. 

Both you and Hwan reach the third floor now, knuckles white with how hard you both grip at your own pistols. Hwan takes the lead, moving his gun as he checks behind each singular pillar.

There were only so many floors, only so many pillars that the killer could hide behind. There were limited custodial rooms, one on each floor near every ramp. So with each one successfully cleared you only felt sicker for what was to come. 

Hwan turns back to look at you, his body moving towards the next pillar when a shot rings out. 

His eyes widen as the bullet makes impact, piercing the skin on his shoulder and sending him crashing onto the ground, blood spattering as he drops. 

Fear sweeps through your body, freezing you in place right before the pillar where this murderer stands. You wait, pistol aimed near the pillar but eyes focused on Hwan bleeding out.

He grits his teeth, head lolled back as he lets out a string off curses, his hand clutched hard around his shoulder, warm blood seeping out and painting his hand. 

“Get her,” he blurts out through cries of pain, tears forming in the crevices of his eyes. “Fucking go now!” His voice is loud this time, ushering you out of your pathetic state and into action. 

And you do, but not quick enough as the suspect darts out past you to the previous pillar, catching you off guard. You turn on your heel, following the killer and weaving around each pillar for protection. 

A shot wizzes past you and embeds itself into the pillar behind you, causing you to jump back and behind for cover. You can hear the fading footsteps of the suspect, your heavy breathing, the sound of the radio blaring from your walkie-talkie. A swirl of emotion taunting you in the back of your mind.

Hwan speaks into the mic, his words a slur of cussing and explanations. “Shots fired, I’m hit. Choi is..” his voice fades out and returns. “Down the ramps!” 

You duck out from behind the pillar and continue your chase with the killer, both of you racing to the final floor. You can see the body of the killer growing closer as you reach the last ramp. 

The familiar trench coat and the now bloodstained white shirt and shorts that lay under. Before you can fully react, both of your arms reach out, grabbing the sides of the coat, sending you both tumbling down the ramp.

A struggle for dominance ensues as you both fight against each other, arms flailing about. You drop back onto the floor, gun drawn and face severely scraped up. 

As your eyes survey your surroundings, only then do you notice. 

Minjeong stands above you, eyes widened and just as shocked as you are. She steps back, her gun that was just pointed at you now hanging lightly from her fingers. She looks terrified, like a deer in headlights - ashamed even. 

Your hand instinctively reaches for your radio, your hand gripping the cold plastic the same as many times before. You speak into the radio, mimicking a voice of true terror. 

“All units to the front entrance!” 

She understands your intentions now. 

So why don’t you? 

Why are you helping someone who hurts?

Minjeong steps back, legs weak as she turns for the back exit. Her eyes are studying you for an explanation as to why, why you would spare the life of someone as undeserving as her. 

Eventually she turns fully, but guilt washes over her, making her look back one last time. 

 She obviously wants to say something, anything to break the silence. Her eyes look pitiful, cheeks flushed bright red. But when the shouts of policemen become louder she turns away, shrouding herself from view and disappearing into the night.

A/N: I did proof read it a few times, if I missed anything then I apologize in advance. :/

[dixons-sunshine]

Secrets | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: There are no reader descriptions! Reader can be Dale’s adoptive daughter.

Over the course of the few months that the apocalypse had been in full swing, you had heard the phrase ‘I’d rather get eaten by a walker’ too many times to keep track of. You had not been inclined to use said phrase due to the fact that it had not been needed to be said.

Up until now. You would much rather become food for the dead than have to live through your current predicament.

Despite your more than grown age, your dad still had a tendency to meddle in your love life. It seemed as if though nobody would ever be enough for his baby girl. And by the situation he had found his baby girl in, you were surprised he did not have a heart attack on the spot. No father ever wanted to see his daughter in the midst of a deep, heavy make out session with their boyfriend, especially not if their daughter was keeping the relationship a secret, so the father did not even know about it.

Admittedly, your dad finding out about your relatively recent relationship with the crossbow-wielding archer had not been ideal at all. You knew he would find out eventually, but you figured you would be the one to tell him, not that he would just walk into your tent on the Greene’s property and find you on the huntsman’s lap, with Daryl’s tongue shoved deeply into your mouth as his hands trailed up and down underneath your shirt.

Dale Horvath was a good man with good morals and principles, but you were worried that all of that could potentially fly out the window in favour of murdering the younger Dixon brother.

You picked at your nails as you anxiously awaited for your dad and partner to emerge from the solitude of the beloved RV. Dale had sternly told Daryl that the two of them needed to talk—after he chewed you out for keeping the relationship a secret in the first place—and they had disappeared into the mobile home. That had been a good ten minutes ago, and you were beginning to think that Daryl was indeed dead, and your dad was only trying to think of a way to sneak the body out without anybody seeing him.

As if hearing the inner turmoil in your head, Daryl finally reemerged from the RV, a neutral expression on his face. His eyes locked on yours and he began making his way over to where you sat on one of the chairs in the campsite, fiddling with what appeared to be a box in his large hands.

“You’re alive,” you voiced through a sigh of relief. “I was beginning to think he would murder you.”

Unwillingly, a small chuckle left the archer’s mouth. “Felt like it at times. Honestly, I would’a preferred kickin’ the bucket over that awkward as fuck conversation. But I survived.”

“You survived.” You got up from the chair and walked forward to embrace your partner, but stopped when you noticed your dad watching the two of you from the doorway of the RV. “So how’d it go?”

Daryl shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Got the usual talk.”

“The usual talk?”

“Y’know, threats’a bein’ murdered if I ever broke yer heart, that he’ll cut my balls off if I ever so much as think of another woman. Oh, and to ‘be safe’.” For added emphasis, he lifted the box he had been shielding from your view with his large hands, showing you the clear-as-day logo of a well-known condom brand. “Said he ain’t ready to be a grandpa yet.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered and shook your head, trying your best to keep your embarrassment at bay. “Why does he even have a box of those?”

Daryl knew that was a rhetorical question, but he provided you with an answer regardless. “Apparently, s’one of Glenn’s boxes, but yer ol’ man reckoned we needed it more.”

You ducked your head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry about him. He—”

“S’fine,” he waved you off with a small, lopsided smile. “Ain’t nothin’ I couldn’t handle.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Okay.”

A few beats of awkward silence passed. Daryl cleared his throat and looked down at the box of condoms in his hands. “So… should I put this away for future use or are we puttin’ one’a these suckers to use right now?” he asked jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood.

That made you laugh. You shook your head with a radiant smile. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“M’choosin’ to see that as a compliment.”

[who-is-page]

Greener Grasses and Fossilized Paw Prints: Where (and Why) the Greymuzzles Go

Author: Page Type: Essay Words: 1,229 Summary: Page's personal experience as an adult canine psychopomp, and how it applies to the dearth of older otherkin in general alterhuman community spaces. Answering the question of: where are all the older otherkin? And why do people always seem to eventually leave? Author's Note: The term "greymuzzle" is used within the scope of this essay's title to reference older otherkin who have been active in alterhuman spaces for extended periods of time (a nod to the word's original definition within furry spaces), and is not referring to greymuzzle's most frequent definition in alterhuman groups as a community-given term denoting an individual with noteworthy activity and contribution.

[Part of the Sol System’s Alterhuman Writing Project for 2024. If you don’t want to see these posts, block the tag #inkedclaws]

When I was a young otherkin, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, I found it difficult to conceptualize why there was such a dearth of older community members, especially those 30 and above. I could understand the theoretics behind the disparity, of course— social media platforms, as we all know, tend to skew towards younger audiences due to generational differences in technological proficiency/preference. Established adults with working lives and families don’t necessarily have the same amount of free-time that young adults or teenagers do, either. But even with all that taken into account, it seemed like the number of otherkin aged 13-21 in comparison to the number of otherkin aged 30+ was less a gradual decline and more an unfathomable chasm of difference. The community had been around for decades at that point, with plenty of ghost town groups and abandoned forums to demonstrate that fact… and unless the Veil was secretly age-restricted, those people hadn’t up and disappeared into thin air. So where were people going? And, more importantly, why?

It was a question I’d never been able to answer in a way that felt satisfactory as a teenager and later as a young adult. But now, feeling the call of the void myself, I finally do have an answer and an understanding that I never could have achieved five or ten years ago: why the fuck would I be online when I could be playing video games or having sex with my hot partners instead?

It’s a crude and simplistic way to put it, but just hear me out. As an established adult, I have access to funds, stability, and freedom that I never had as a teenager or even as a young adult who still felt at the mercy of an uncaring universe’s slightest whims. My support systems in high school and college suffered from the same sort of financial and social precariousness that come with the territory of navigating the world as a young adult, but my support systems now are made up of other established adults; while I’ll never say that everything is always perfect for all of us, it’s much easier to get on your feet and stay on your feet when your arms are linked with people who are more firmly rooted in one way or another. I have access to a type of freedom that I could never have imagined as a teenager, because it was literally outside of the range of what was possible for me and my peers.

And more than just that freedom is the fact that I, as an adult, have a family! “Having a family” has, in my experience, some shitty, heteronormative connotations. As a teen, I always took it at face value as juggling bills, kids, white picket fence, other boring responsibilities that eat up your time, etc. But as an adult, now I know that having a family can be anything you make of it, and I make it extremely, obnoxiously queer. In my case, it’s living with people who understand me on a deep, foundational level, and who love me not in spite of who I am but because of who (and what) I am. It’s not passively being around those people; it’s actively, enthusiastically spending time with them because it’s fun and because I love them too and because they’re my people and I picked them and they picked me. As a kid, I’d never consciously recognized the difference between people you’re passively around because you have to be versus people you intentionally choose to be around and who intentionally choose you right back. In part, this is because as a kid you often don’t get the option to make that choice, while as an adult you have more control over your environment. Too often online environments feel like the former, rather than the latter, even if being within them is, technically, a choice. But here, now, I have people in my household who will go out of their way to intersect their daily lives with mine and ask, “You wanna walk to the park?” “You wanna grab a coffee?” or “You HAVE to see this YouTube essay I’m watching and no I don’t care that it’s 4 hours long on a topic you know nothing about, just trust me!!!!!” and that’s such a radically different and wonderful experience.

As an adult, I live with a group of people who make being alive more fun than I could have ever imagined. I have the ability to make my own fun in ways I couldn’t as a kid, for a variety of reasons. I don’t have to feel like an anxious purse chihuahua 24/7, agonizing over my existence and every possible thing that is liable to go wrong if I frivolously spend money on so much of the thought of a hot coffee. And I finally, finally understand why older otherkin disappear off the face of the Earth. It’s because being an adult nonhuman-identifying person is amazing in a way almost no one ever talks about: the euphoric experience of being known and loved, and of knowing and loving yourself.

There are so many exciting and wonderful things I could be doing in the meatspace with people I have actively chosen to spend my life with, and who fully accept and understand me as someone who’s queer, plural, and nonhuman. There’s so many enriching ways I could be engaging with my hobbies, the environment around me, and my local community. With this all in mind, why the fuck would I ever be in public online spaces where people try to argue with me about whether or not I exist, or if my experiences are real, or if I’m using the right and latest lingo to describe my experiences? Why would I subject myself to that when I could just roll my eyes, close the laptop, and go be a beloved canine psychopomp in the comfort of my werehouse instead?

That’s the crux of it. As adults with families and support networks, we have the option to not subject ourselves to the morifying ordeal of being known by asshole strangers online if we don’t want to. We can stick to just our families and our friend groups, and we will still have people around us who understand and who acknowledge and interact with our alterhumanity. The alterhuman community isn’t the only or even most important place for being our authentic selves; rather, it takes a backseat in the day-to-day life. It’s still something that’s fulfilling and worthwhile to engage with, but only on our own terms (terms that are quickly becoming incompatible with the ways Internet culture is evolving). But more often than not, there’s just more fun things to do.

In some ways, it’s kind of a relief to have had this epiphany. People haven’t vanished from alterhuman community spaces because they collectively ‘grew out of it’ like some anti-otherkin insist, or because the various generations of otherkin are so extraordinarily different from one another as to be oil-and-water. People vanish from online alterhuman spaces because offline life as an adult alterhuman is awesome. As an archivist it’s frustrating, but as a nonhuman, I find it a specific type of happiness that’s worth celebrating in its existence and prevalence. It’s an assurance that life only gets better as you get older: isn’t that grand?

[jiniretracha]

ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗 ꕤ

Song Mingi x fem!reader: titfucking

summary: You give your boyfriend a little surprise after a night out in a jacuzzi.

warnings: smut, titfucking, masturbation-ish (m receiving)

word count: 1.6k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

So, you weren’t really surprised that, once you started dating Mingi after a long friendship in which eventually you developed feelings for each other, you’d realise he preferred boobs over ass. 

You noticed that whenever sexy times occurred, he spent an ungodly amount of time sucking at them and groping them in his hands, the moans raining out of his mouth like crazy. 

He’d thrust into you with one hand grabbing yours, pinning them over your head and the other one fumbling with your nipple, drawing circles over it. Mingi would often slip one of your nipples into his mouth and he’d moan brokenly against your skin. 

You didn’t want to admit it, but it was a huge ego boost that your boyfriend was obsessed with you like that. 

So, you started to pamper him a little with it. 

You started walking around the house with short crop tops, the ones you knew that showed a great amount of cleavage. You’d even bent over, chest facing him, so he could see your breasts over the U-neck shirt you were wearing. 

Your boyfriend’s eyes would be fixed on them, heavily holding lust in them that he tried to mask miserably. He didn’t want to seem like a creep or a weirdo for staring at your breasts like they were a full course meal and he had been starved for weeks. 

Whenever he suggested going to the pool, you’d use the smallest bikini you had in your closet and tied the straps over your neck a little tighter so your boobs could be pressed a little more against each other. 

Mingi would see you and clench his jaw, trying his hardest to not pop a boner right then and there, cause it would be embarrassing if people noticed it. 

That night, your boyfriend had suggested just that. It was a very hot night and the jacuzzi was a very tempting option. 

You went down to the jacuzzi area and he immediately got inside the tub, sighing in pleasure when the water hit his waist, melting against the edge. 

“Yo, babe. Come in, the water’s so fucking nice” he smiled at you over his shoulder.

You were putting down your stuff on a lounge chair and turned to look at him. 

“I’m going, honey. Give me a sec” you answered.

You left your sandals by the edge of the jacuzzi and slowly took off your dress that covered your bikini. 

Mingi’s eyes almost bulged out of his skull when he saw the fiery red bikini you were wearing, making your breasts pushed together. You tried your hardest to hide your smirk as you slowly made your way inside the tub. 

You sighed and smiled at your boyfriend. “It feels really nice, you were right” you chuckled.

“Mhm…” Mingi said, his eyes quickly finding yours. 

You saw him look away and that’s when you let out your evil smirk. 

You swam a little towards him and his eyes widened again when you sat in his lap, more so, straddling him. 

Your chest sat right in front of his eyes and Mingi could feel his mouth fucking watering at the sight presented. You curled your arms around his neck and his arms slowly wrapped around your waist, pulling your body slowly towards him. 

“Do you like this new bikini, baby?” you asked him.

His eyes, that were trying so hard not to look down to not seem disrespectful, quickly darted down and then went up. He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I- I love it baby, when did you- uh… when did you buy it?” he stammered, feeling a deep red blush creeping up his cheeks.

You giggled and shrugged your shoulders, making your tits bounce up with the movement. That’s when Mingi couldn’t help but look down and he felt his cock stirring inside his swim shorts.

“I went with Somi the other day to the mall and we found this very cheap but cute store” you rambled on about your recent purchase, but Mingi could not really pay attention to a word you were saying because, as you were talking and moving your hands, your tits bounced with every move you made. 

By the end of your rambling, he was hard as a rock and it would only take one move forward of your hips to realise his state.

“How was your day, bub?” your voice brought him back to reality.

Mingi blinked and looked back at your face. “Huh… uh… pretty bland, to be honest” Mingi said, shifting in his place slightly. 

But, with a wrong move, his erection nudged your core and you gasped, your nails digging on his bare shoulders. 

You let out a chuckle and framed his face with your hands. “Are you hard, babe?” you asked him with an evil smile. “Did my pretty tits make your cock hard?” you pouted.

Mingi literally growled and grabbed your hips, pulling you forward so his cock could nudge directly with your clit as he leant forward to devour your mouth in a fiery kiss. 

You gasped against his lips and quickly kissed him back. His lips parted a little so his tongue could trace your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, granting him access so he could lick inside, curling his tongue with yours.

His big hands were gripping your ass tightly and then, he pulled away, tracing his lips down your neck as he literally ripped the bikini top you were wearing, letting it float over on the water. 

Mingi grabbed you by the back and pulled you forward so he could envelope your nipples in his mouth. 

You moaned loudly and he kept nudging his hips forward against your clit as he whimpered against your chest.

“My God, have I ever told you how fucking obsessed with your tits I am, baby?” he asked, before going back to licking your tits again. 

You let out a laugh that was more of a moan. “Shit, tell me something I don’t know, honey” you said breathily.

You grabbed your boyfriend’s hair and pulled him away from your chest, making him whine like a little puppy. 

“Get out” you said and he frowned.

“Huh?” he asked, genuinely confused. 

“Get out, I wanna try something” you told him. “Sit on the edge”

Mingi slowly stood up slightly so he could sit on the edge of the tub just like you told him. 

“Pull your dick out” you ordered him around, making him practically leak inside his swim trunks. 

Mingi quickly did as he was told, untying the knot of the fabric and pulling it down over his knees, making his cock spring out and slap against the skin of his taut stomach. 

You grabbed his length in his hands and pumped him slowly. He let out a groan and threw his head back in ecstasy. “Holy fuck…” Mingi groaned, his hand coming to brush his hair away from his face. 

“You like it, babe?” you asked, leaning forward so you could tease him with a kitten lick over his leaking tip. 

He let out a broken moan, and nodded. “No, I love it, baby”

You giggled and then pushed your lips together, letting your spit dribble down his length. Your hand came to collect it and rubbed it all over his shaft.

“Look at me, Mingi” you said.

He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide and his chest panting heavily.

You placed his cock in between your breasts and, with your hands, pushed them together so they hugged him tightly and perfectly. 

Mingi moaned louder than you ever heard him and you started rubbing his dick in between your tits up and down with a steady pace. 

“Shit, look at you” he groaned. “I’m… I’m so fucked, babe, shit”

You started jerking him off more quickly now, your tongue coming to lick at the drops of pre cum that oozed from his tip when his dick came closer to your chin. 

Mingi didn’t know what to do with his hands so one of them went to your hair, caressing your scalp with his fingers. 

“God, Y/N, you are the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life” he whimpered loudly. “So lucky, so, so, so lucky” he mumbled incoherently. 

“Are you getting close, my love?” you asked, giving him a big lick on his tip, making his hips jerk. The tip hit your chin and you chuckled at the desperation in his eyes. 

He nodded desperately and huffed. “Fuck, yeah”

“Then, come for me, Mingi” you said and spat on his length, letting it rub over his cock with your tits. 

He kept cursing and thrusting his hips wildly. He came hard against your neck, painting your skin white, even catching your chin and some on your lips. 

You quickly darted your tongue and sucked on your bottom lip any remaining of his come.

Mingi let his body slump against the floor as he tried to regain his breath again. Once he went back to breathing normally, he sat up, leaning on his elbows. 

“Shit, honey… that was so fucking- shit” Mingi said, his brain still mushed up. 

You giggled and then made a show of collecting the cum from his chest with two fingers before shoving them inside your mouth. “Did you like it?” you asked him after sucking your fingers clean.

“Liked it?” he chuckled. “We’re gonna have to do that every fucking day of the year now”

You giggled. You liked the sound of that.  

── .✦

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @yaorzu-blog // @jisunglyricist // @leeknowinggg // @ka0ila // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle // @velvetmoonlght // @regardsto-hell // @jaiuneamesolitaiire // @bangchansbeanie

i apologise if i can't tag u :(

[datesinredink]

Ranking the yandere rottmnt boys by how likely they are to kidnap their darling

Just a little crumb to keep myself from losing my mind while staring at google docs this late at night. Sorry if this is super bad, it's way later at night than I'm used to staying up and election night stressed me the hell out.

Donnie.

I have absolutely no doubts that he's going to at least try very very hard to kidnap you. And honestly, I doubt it would be too hard. He's a highly trained, mystic wielding, tech inventing, mutant ninja turtle. And on top of that, he's very fond of planning absolutely everything. And to finish it all off, I think it would be once in a blue moon that he actually treats his darling as an equal. He already thinks he's better than almost everyone, and when he gets obsessed, he has to make himself feel better about it somehow, so he decides to cope by thinking you need him instead of it being the other way around. As a result, he treats you a bit like a very glorified songbird, and songbirds.. well, aren't they usually put in cages anyway? You won't even care after a week or two of adjustment! (He will get upset if you aren't content with being kidnapped by then, by the way.)

2. Raph

The only reason Raph is behind Donnie on this list is because I think he would take longer to justify it to himself. He thinks you're fragile, that you need to be protected from the harsh world! I mean, he barely trusts his youngest brother, who is also a highly trained ninja, to do a simple mission on his own. How do you think he'll treat you after the obsession sets in properly? Not really as an equal, I'll tell you that. He's much nicer to you than Donnie would be, but he still doesn't respect you enough to let you handle yourself, even if that's not how he sees his behavior. At the same time though... isn't he supposed to be a hero? Do heroes kidnap their darlings? Or would this make him the dragon... In the end though, he'll decide that he's fine with being the dragon so long as he knows that the rest of the world won't be able to run their metaphorical (or maybe literal, depending on how unpopular you are in the area) pitchforks right through your heart.

3. Mikey

Mikey wouldn't just.. outright kidnap his darling, I think. I think it would start with a fun sleepover at the lair! Then he insists you stay just one more day! You're having so much fun, after all! Don't you wanna hang out with your best friend for a while longer? You agree, of course- him and his brothers have been nothing but nice to you ever since you met them, and their company is always a delight, so it's worth a shot, isn't it? Then suddenly, the weekend is over, and school's ready to chew you up again, so you do leave. Then it's finally the weekend again! You've heard of a fun game from your school friends, so you plan on trying it when you get home this afternoon- it's friday, after all- when you get a text from Mikey in the group chat with his brothers. He wants you to come over again- and, of course, you say "sure". Not like you can't just play the game on sunday, or when you go home saturday. The sleepover flies by, but you're a bit weary by the time you're pretty sure you're supposed to go home- but here's Mikey, and he's so sure that you promised you'd stay at the lair until sunday again! So, you give in. There's always next weekend, right...? I think you get the pattern, but eventually, he'll be keeping you at the lair 24/7, and you'll be rubbing at your weary eyes wondering how you got into this mess. Sometimes you can even see his brothers shoot you worried looks.

4. Leo

Leo would only kidnap his darling as a last resort, and I think it's because of two reasons. One, he's the brother who sees you closest to being an equal (Donnie and Raph constantly go against your personal autonomy and Mikey puts you on an extremely restricting pedestal), though to be fair, that's not a high bar to pass- and two he much prefers to have some sort of interesting conflict to be present because he finds it entertaining. His life is a weird, morally incorrect soap opera at this point, and he's the number one viewer. Kidnapping would only really happen with him if he thought you were either seriously leaving him (moving or getting into a serious relationship with someone else) or if the circumstances around him got too stressful and he needed something to cling to for any semblance of support outside his brothers (who, at that point, would probably also be super stressed). Think post movie, when the city is still recovering. Man, he was probably freaking out thinking that you might've died to the kraang.

[robin-evry]

I got a good one, What if Yuu was like Poison Ivy from Batman?

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐕𝐘!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓🌿🌹

Poison Ivy is a genius scientist and meta-human with hybridized plant DNA, Poison Ivy uses mutant plants, will-bending pheromones and toxins from plants and her own bloodstream for her criminal activities. Ivy has also developed a special relationship with fellow villain Harley Quinn, with the two often being depicted as recurring partners-in-crime, friends and, sometimes, love-interests.

Not very close to the first years, poison ivy!yuu preferred plants over people the only exception is grim. They originally don't like being around people like imagine them walking into the cafeteria for the first time and say "ew people"

Many students found them weird, they get a reputation for being a weirdo but they don't mind. Due to some students finding them talking to plants as if they were people. Many people call them the raft of Demeter or Demeter due to their ability to manipulate plants.

The ramshackle dorm has become a luxurious green house with many new types of rare plants covering the exterior and poison ivy!yuu hates when a student plucks one of their plants and will dangle them outside down until Crowley begs them upside down.

They are very sharp and observant no matter where and they Carried a scent that let students feel attracted towards them. As well if grim started to misbehave poison ivy!yuu would kiss his cheeks and he will calm down. They rarely use this ability but use it if needed or During they feel like using it.

Poison ivy!yuu excell at potionolgy and alchemist by far one of the top students in this subject more than Azul and riddle.

They usually carried a plant name Jared around them, imagine poison ivy!yuu walking to class with potted plants in their arms. And if anyone tried asking them they would just reply with "his name is Jared"

Even though their tough exterior, poison ivy!yuu is a protective of vurnable things one time when epel was being targeted by many students, poison ivy!yuu steps in and mutates the plants around them into a mutated giant Venus fly trap with sharp teeth and that's enough for the students to run, before epel can leave poison ivy!yuu has already leave

They also use plants to get around, if the class was on the top floor and they don't feel like walking they use a vine to get them up.

Poison ivy!yuu is very firm and will not hold back, during riddle overblot, they used their power and threw the overblot riddle across the dorm. Many were shocked at how harsh they were and Carter and Trey were literally mouth wide and asked why they couldn't be more gentler and poison ivy!yuu replied with "I don't care"

Vil found their rare flowers with health benefits as well being incredibly rare and ask for poison ivy!yuu to sell them towards him, they denied this and vil asked rook to get those flowers and it ended with rook being hung upside down by the feet for trespassing their garden. Vil respects poison ivy!yuu for their elegance and firm personality as well for their aesthetic.

Their dorm is filled with rare plants due to their ability to manipulate plants, these plants can be sold for millions to billions of dollars but poison ivy!yuu denied it an offer and some students are not brave enough to go against them knowing they will be hung upside down in the sun or in the rain doesn't matter or been thrown across the school

Ruggie has been recently trying to get this plant no matter the cost, since it's very rare it could get his family out of poverty, he doesn't give up no matter how much he was hung upside down or thrown he doesn't give up. When poison ivy! Yuu and ask why doesn't he quit, he admits his reason and that's enough to pull their heart strings and let him grab the plant that he wants ONCE, and that's it.

Crowley was also trying to get these plants but using black mail and that failed after one try of stealing.

Eventually poison ivy! Yuu started to sell the plants but not that often and they usually hold a once in a month auction for their plants and always get large amounts of money to the point that billions of merit are under their name.

But after some time at NRC they managed to let some of their guards down and relax for a bit and started to open up for some people. Like the first years and grim.

Edit one : they love to make a grand entrance, they will appear at class with a large flower and then it blooms revealing them.

[doink-boink]

Finally drew my interpretation of Zach's parents!

Have had these fellows in the works for a good while!

Really had to lock in when doing the writing here lol - my handwriting is normally a weird hyper mix between cursive and print. But messier. Hopefully its legible! Enjoy some more yapping about these guys below the cut >:D

Must mention this is within my own AU! My interpretation of Zach specifically is a trans man. So uh! No way in hell Arthur is supportive in that regard. He is a miserable man whose only concern is furthering the family business and his public image.

Really looked to both Moral Orel and Bojack Horseman as inspiration for how these two would be. Did not intend for Arthur to share a name with the character he is inspired by lol - but uhm! He specifically is like Arthur Puppington when Clay was a kid: Distant, cold, though not physically abusive. Emotionally? Oh brother, you bet.

Regarding Kim and Arthur's relationship, that was really dead in the water. Kim is a self published author, or rather, an ASPIRING self published author. She mostly writes crime novellas/dramas, though needed some outsider input regarding the legal side of her stories. So, of course, she decides to reach out to the biggest law firm in the area.

It is initially a short and sweet interaction: "I ask you questions, you give me answers and insight when you can." However, she grows to enjoy Arthur's company, falling for him quickly. VERY rushed marriage ensues! Good god! (Of course not ASAP, within a few months time of dating/correspondence) Not too certain as of right now where Zach comes into the mix, but definitely in that honeymoon stage of a relationship where you don't quite know the person yet to really gauge if things will work out or not.

I mean, things absolutely do NOT work out in the end, but they don't know that yet. Arthur I feel is the type to want a family ASAP. Need that sweet sweet heir to the company. Will accept nothing less than a son. Sucks for him, doesn't end up coming to fruition until much later! AFAB child, disappointment on Arthur's behalf, compassion on Kim's. Like a night and day difference - even after Zach does eventually transition (his mother is deceased by this point) his father refuses to accept it until he dies. By until I mean: "You still are not my son." *flatline*

Kim was there for Zach until the day she died, which would probably be around late middle school to early highschool? In that age range. Old enough to have fond and in depth memories. Which! Arthur is the one who discovers what had happened. Busy writing a novel when wham, sudden cardiac arrest - alone, as she tended to keep to herself. Entire family dynamic changes from then onward, though the abusive aspects of it were ever present. Arthur is generally unsupportive of Zach's endeavors, frustrated that he is going into science and robotics as opposed to law. (Though I do think he'd have been trained or prepped for a career as a lawyer throughout his teens-adolescence)

Zach is the closest to his mother, with most of his fashion sense coming from her. Gotta love the turtleneck sweater! @novazentryx came up with the idea that he inherited his early black sweater from Tazzy Chris from her after it shrunk in the wash, loved that so y'know what! This totally applies here. Not only did he inherit the sweater, but also her V-necklace! (Which, if you have seen Zoey, is where she gets it from! As well as she looks strikingly similar to Kim. On that front I think that was a surprise from Aviva, knowing how close he was to her)

Spitballing with this one, but I think it would be interesting if Zach had assisted in pitching ideas for Kim's stories! What aspects of it I do not know, but maybe names for the characters. Mayhaps that is where he gets ZACH from? Don't ask what his deadname is, haven't thought of that and would prefer not to lol

I think that concludes my rambling! Do not really have anything else that is coming to mind at the moment, so feel free to ask questions or leave suggestions about these two! I will more than likely respond ^^ (To asks or replies) Thank you for humoring me and reading all of this if you're here lol, I really appreciate it!!

[urinarythreatinfection]

Mihawk x AFAB Reader? With the • Character reacts to reader's form of affection

Pre-relationship, Reader isn’t being subtle. AT. ALL. About her intentions and constantly flirting and being affectionate with him.. And yet it STILL takes Mihawk a hot minute to realize what she’s doing and go.. “Oh… I see……. well all right then darling.. 😏”

This ended up being more gender neutral, i had to go back and try and atleast hint at AFAB but hey whatever.

Think About It

Mihawk x reader. Female in mind but can be gender neutral. 1165 words. A bit suggestive.

Mihawk isn’t necessarily a dumb, unintelligent, or oblivious man. However, he is an experienced one, unfortunately experience can be as unhelpful as ignorance. Especially when you’ve associated a certain behavior with something else.

“Heyyyy sexy~” You slowly slide your chair over to Mihawk’s side. “What’s a dashing older man like you doing here?”

“Reading.” He states, doing his preferred hobby of passing time.

“An educated man too, how attractive. Bet you’re popular, huh?”

“Hmm.” He’s never thought about it, annoyed by popularity, but he was more popular in his youth. He’s gotten a bit less popular with age though, most likely due to his approachibility getting even worse. “Decently.”

‘Such dry answers… but he’s actually responding instead of brushing me off like with others.’ Your thoughts scramble as you keep flirting. “Well~ I think you’re amazing.” He hums and you tilt your body to rest on his. “Your eyes when you read are really pretty too, I could watch you read for hours.” Usually he’d think nothing of the compliment, even finding it disgusting, but coming from you it’s actually a bit… flattering. His hawk-like eyes move from the book to look at at you, piercing and mezmerising. “Kyaa~ My heart just skipped a beat.” You half-joke with a hand on your chest. A certain behavior to him associated with a Red Haired man. Your true intentions are going over his head, his mind subconsiously filtering jokes like these as only jokes.

“I recommend seeing a doctor.” He brushes it off as he would with that weird redhead, looking back at his book. This isn’t working, mission failed and you sigh, eventually retreating to your room.

Later he finds you in the kitchen with a bottle of wine, “Oh, hey!” swishing it around with a wink when you see him. “Must be fate you came here just as I did, maybe we’re just meant to be.” You hold out the bottle to him and he walks up to you, taking it.

“I suppose so.” He’s actually fairly pleased this has happened, pouring both of you a glass.

“Right? We’re fated to be together, like Romeo and Juliet~” You say with a dreamy sigh, laying your head on his shoulder.

“The two of them die.” He points out, taking a sip from his glass while you flinch.

“Not… that part.” You step back. “Though I wouldn’t mind dying if it were oh so romantically with you~” You strike a pose of longing, hand reaching out to him. He places your wine glass in it.

“I would mind. I prefer you alive.” Mihawk states, not much to say, but for him it is. You end up getting flustered like he just professed his love.

“Thanks.. I prefer you alive too..” Failed again.

__________

Mihawk comes back from a mission looking irritated, immediately going for a bottle of wine when you spot him. “Welcome back, babe, you need a bath? I could even get in with you.” His mind is fresh from fighting, in a bad mood from it being annoying. One of the targets had escaped, making him have to waste time looking for them. Not hard, but out of the way enough to be irritating. Especially when the “battle” itself was hardly anything, being interrupted by the target accidentally causing their own demise. It leaves Mihawk feeling pent up, unfulfilled.

“I don’t need your assistance in bathing, (Y/n).” He shuts you down, quickly looking for a glass when you hand one to him. Wasting no time, he pours the liquid inside and takes a big gulp. It’s a little hot seeing him like this.

“Good view, if it makes you feel better I could always give you one too.” You walk over to him and press your chest against his arm. “If you’d let me~” He gently pushes you away.

“Not now. Your company is… nice, but I don’t need jokes.” He gulps down the rest of the wine and sighs in relief.

“Who said I’m joking?”

“I’m being quite serious.” Mihawk’s adamant and you sigh, pushing him like this would only make things worse when he’s in this mood.

“Alright. No view then, I get it. Call me if you need me~” You say with a purr, rubbing your cheek against him before leaving. Once you’re gone he grumbles, he didn’t want you to leave he just wanted you to stop messing around. It isn’t fun hearing someone who’s words you could actually take to heart play around with it. He almost finishes the entire bottle before deciding to bathe, wanted to feel clean and relax.

Mihawk sighs, his muscles untensing as he lowers himself into the hot water after cleaning himself properly. Much better. His mind, scrambled from stress, begins to come together as he starts to think of your adcances. He’s always assumed they were like Shanks’s, just jokes, and hadn’t thought really though about it more than that; but now that he’s allowing himself to look further he realizes more. They’re different than his, more bold, more flirtatious, and more often than Red Hair. The captain had usually just sprinkled them in with his other annoying babbling, but you joke flirt so frequently.

…

‘Perhaps these are not jokes?’ Something clicks in the swordsman’s mind and he gets up from the bath, drying off before getting dressed to see you. If this is true and they havent been jests he needs to make sure. He finds you back at the kitchen, about to drink your sorrows away before spotting him.

“Oh, you’re quicker than usual. Miss me too much?” He doesn’t respond, instead just getting closer to you. “Hug?” You hug him gladly, “I’d never miss the chance to be close to you.” You expect him to just pull back or accept it with a sigh as he usually does, but you feel his arms sneak around your body to hug you back. It makes you freeze in shock, not expecting your affection to be returned.

“(Y/n). Continue talking.” He says when you go silent.

“Huh.. yeah?” You’re confused, face hot.

“You enjoy my body, yes? Enjoy it.��� He hugs you tighter, letting you feel his muscular build against you. “Take this chance.” You’re getting more flustered, why is he getting so into this so suddenly? He pulls back enough to look at you. “Enjoy the view as well.” This is a lot. Thankfully you’re too shameless to refuse so you take in the sight of him while feeling his warmth close to yours.

“This is the best.” You mumble and unconsciously reach a hand out to touch his cheek, he leans into it, closing his eyes. You’re reacting positively, he was right, and now that he knows he isn’t going to let this pass by.

“(Y/n).” He suddenly speaks and you jolt slightly.

“Y-Yeah?”

“I'll take your offer.” He places his hand over yours, opening his eyes to look into yours. “I would like to see the view.”

[sil3ntfr34k]

p1 x reckless dumb teen boy reader (both in high school or college)

(Highschool bc I’ve never been to collage and don’t know that life.)

Highschool!P1 Dude x Highschool!Reader

Dude wasn’t as bad in Highschool I think. He was a good kid, didn’t have good grades, but he never really acted out. Very quiet, kept to himself. Even the weird, quiet, and anime kids didn’t wanna talk to him :((

Had really strange style of clothes. Probably wore a sweater vest with regular t shirt under and shorts with long socks or something. Bullied because of this, but he just never learned how to dress himself until adulthood.

Most likely had a rough home life so every time he’d go to school he’d have randomly placed bruises and scratches, didn’t help that everyone always made school shooter jokes about him. Really destroyed the little self esteem he had.

NEVER did his homework, only class work that he was able to do in class. Once he got home it was hell, so any work he had with him would either get ripped apart by his dad while he mocked Dude or forgotten in the rare moment’s where Dude could get some peace.

Tried to get along with the teachers, but the only one who could match his freak was the art teacher. He loved going there and escaping the loud cafeteria during lunch, and that’s where he met you!!

Dude was genuinely shocked when you turned around to talk to him, asking his name and what classes he’s in. No one has ever cared enough to ask him those questions, let alone talk to him, so he was flabbergasted when you asked him to hang out with you after school.

Immediately took up on the offer since he didn’t wanna go home anyway. Y’all both went to the gas station across the street for some snacks and then went to your house.

Your house seemed so much more quiet and cleaner than his. The walls weren’t as cracked, the floor was mostly swept, and there wasn’t any screaming or fighting. It felt like a safe haven to him. He was honestly jealous.

Even from the first time you hung out with him, you could tell he was troubled. Couldn’t tell what it was, but it was obvious that the lights were on but no one was home. He has really strange ideas and beliefs, and forgot how to talk a lot, always skipping over words and stuttering. Didn’t help that he talked a million miles a minute.

Hanging out with you was the first time he was able to do his homework. And he was god awful at it. You had to help him with every question,,, with every subject… You were basically teaching him the materiel he should’ve learned in class, but you figured he needed it so you continued.

You could see his mind slip further away as senior year approached. He wasn’t rude or anything, still the same quiet and nice boy, but he became more frantic and his beliefs became wilder. He tried to shut you out multiple times, desperately trying to self isolate from the beliefs that everyone is out to get him slowly creeping in, but you didn’t let that happen.

Despite his attempts to ignore you in the halls and pretend he didn’t hear you scream his name from across the entire fuckin school, you eventually corner him during passing period. In the span of those 5 minutes, you gave him a stern talking to and planned another hangout after school, or else you’ll hunt him for sport.

(I’ve written so much srry but I’ll get into dynamics now,,,)

Postal Dude is honestly like the Angel on your shoulder trying to make you be careful. You are the main source of his stress and probably make his anxiety worse.

You’re both probably financially conscious, but you spend more on ‘stupid’ things, which stresses Dude out. You tend to buy things that make you happy, like small plushies or trinkets, while Dude prefers to spend money on things he can use like food and lighters.

You are the only reason Dude still goes out the house anymore. Your gonna have to drag him kicking and screaming, but y’all are going to the mall (when it was still a thing) to together and y’all are gonna have a good time!!!

Dude is only BARELY learning how to dress and finding his style, so you have to help him a lot. Despite not knowing how to layer clothes, he’s very picky about what you try to put him in. He doesn’t want to wear a regular black graphic T-shirt with some dark green pants!! He wants to wear his favorite sweater vest over a button down shirt with his brightest blue jeans!! He honestly dresses like a dork nerd, but don’t tell him that, he’s not ready yet.

Dude’s actually really good at getting you out of trouble. He’s recognized human behavior patterns so he can read people a little better than the average person. Once he’s assessed the situation, he can persuade the person you got mad to let you off easy. It’s almost scary how easy he can unintentionally manipulate.

Despite the scared or worried look on his face he always has on, you can tell he’s enjoying himself on the inside. He isn’t pulling away or trying to get y’all to leave early, so that’s always a good sign.

It does break your heart to see your best friend slowly spiral downward, watching as his delusions grow and his nerves becoming fried. Before you know it he’s quickly checking out the window every 5 minutes, stocking up on canned food, buying more guns and ammo, and isolating himself more.

As you both grow into adulthood, you’re the only one allowed in the house. The littlest beacon of light he knows and clings onto.

[puff0o0]

Gromsko Dating HC

Flirting

♡ When I tell you that this man is so serious when he flirts with you, i mean it. It started off as just simple compliments- complimenting your skills if you're a soldier, complimenting new clothes, comparing hand sizes (yes he's one of those guys, it gives him an excuse to hold your hand and he takes it)

♡ Eventually it becomes less subtle and more bold, bad picku up lines to make you laugh despite him meaning every single word, just straight up holding your hand, complimenting every part of you. Many would think you're already dating, especially if you flirt back

♡ When you do, or if you do flirt back, he has to stop himself from going wild. His heart is beating in his chest, his hands are stiffening, he loves you so much and now it's hitting him full force

Dating

♡ He confessed first, making sure it was perfect for you and him. The scenery had to be perfect for both you and him- if you're someone who hated being around people it was in a secluded place, if you were someone who preferred staying outside, it was outside. He wanted this to feel just as great as it felt for him

♡ When you accepted his confession, he wrapped his arms around you tightly and held you as close as possible, thanking you for giving him such happiness. You gave him even more life than he had just moments before

♡ He loves PDA, but if you don't he's fine with not giving it to you. But he will still have a hand on you somehow, whether it be hand holding or finding an excuse to lead you somewhere so he can hold your hand or the small of your back

♡ He loves using nicknames and he also loves recieving nicknames. Any nicknames are fine with him, even if they're satire ones like babygirl or male wife (he will most likely die if you address him as husband in any way however. It is his favorite above all else)

♡ If there is ever a moment where you're sad or hurt, he does everything he can to make you feel better. Usually it's watching comedies or just doing something you want to do, but he understands that sometimes you just want to be held and he will gladly do that for you

Dates

♡ They're usually always fancy and at restaurants that you both like. He saves up a lot of money specifically for these dates. He wants you to feel like royalty, and what better way to do that?

♡ If you don't like restaurant dates, he keeps that in mind. He then goes for dates at the zoo or the aquarium, ice cream dates, sweet and simple stuff like that. Anything that brings a smile on your face is enough to add 5 years to his life. He does everything he possibly can

♡ If you're not having fun at a date, he will quickly move locations. He has a backup plan to his backup plan to his back plan. He wants it to be perfect for you!

[bomber-grl]

The Torture of Being a Personal Heater

Pairing(s): Leo Valdez x Gn!Reader

Winter post… sort of

It had started before you two even got together

It was unusually chilly, and so you were naturally attracted to the warmest thing in the vicinity

Aka Leo

You stuck to him like glue despite the fact you two never really interacted

Which should’ve been foreshadowing or atleast a glimpse of what being with you would be like

Especially once the weather got chillier and fall turned to winter

He was your designated personal heater

You always held tight next to him at school during the winter months once you two sort of settled at the Waystation

Even when you’re not at the new place you’ve learned to call home- you’re still holding onto him because if you had to describe it in some way shape or form- it’s like he creates a bubble of heat around you two

And you really don’t plan on letting go anytime soon

Luckily this only occurs during Winter because if not then gods so help Leo, he will literally suffer from a heat stroke

Then when he gains consciousness, will argue it’s because he’s too hot (wink wink)

- anyway

Leo doesn’t really mind that you’re drawn to him because of this

I mean he sort of finds it funny and occasionally teases you for it but otherwise it’s just his way of life now

(Adding to the irony of the title)

Especially if you run cold, Leo would actually prefer you lean on him than have you shivering and timbering while he’s all nice and cozy

Now,…

If the only reason you’re actually leaning and resting your head on Leo in the first place is to be able to exert your clinginess without rising suspicion-

Congrats! You’ve succeeded

Homeboy does NOT realize anything is amiss since most of his other friends also use him for warmth

Which can be a tad torturous but he endures it nonetheless-)

He’ll happily hold your hand in his if he gets to hear how warm he is come from you

He does NOT care

But if if Leo hasn’t noticed your clinginess by now-

(Probably blindsided by his own

-you better believe that basically everyone else has

Other residents at the Way station will just roll their eyes playfully and shake their heads at the sight

Eventually Leo finds out that you’re just clingy asf

He really doesn’t get why you’d keep that to yourself, especially since he’s always happy to cuddle

But then again he can’t be talking with all his insecurities that he keeps to himself-

Anyway! Atleast now Leo understands you a tad better than he did a few seconds ago

The only instance where I can think being near you would be close to torturous is when you’re warmly bundled under the covers with Leo

It was a lucky instance considering all of Emmies and Jo’s regulations when couples sleep together-

Anyway

You’re there cuddling and what really Ircks him is if your cold hands brush against his stomach or if your cold ass feet touch his leg or something

He will be startled

And he won’t do anything else really 😭

Just tells you to get closer so that you simultaneously warm up and effectively prevents these shocks

-

A/n: sorry it’s so short but i felt if i added anything more- it’d just be pointless excessive writing

[marisol-000]

The Sandbox Scientists ch.2

Chapter 2! I can't believe how long this got, I had to push some stuff to the next chapter sooooo look out for that one!

(a03)

The boys didn't take the news that they weren't going home well.

There were lots of tears and crying and yelling until eventually weak promises and the offer of cookies calmed them down.

She couldn't blame them of course, the poor things suddenly waking up in a place they don't recognize with people they don't remember.

But what could they do? Neither she nor Robert knew where Jekyll had lived, just “somewhere” in Glasgow; and forget Edward 'street urchin’ Hyde!

Even if they could send them home it probably wouldn't be a good idea. Whatever had happened to her friends was likely temporary, or at least more likely to be solved by one of the scientists here than any townie in scotland.

All they could do now was try to keep the two comfortable while they looked for a solution.

And the first step to that was to get the boys in some fitting clothes!

“Right, but we don't have any. This isn't exactly a daycare.” Robert mused.

“Well you seem to forget! I'm quite the gifted seamstress!” Rachel bragged, wiping some cookie dough off her hands.

She flipped the patterned rag over her shoulder. “I can have some outfits going for these two in no time.”

Robert leaned around her, peeking into the kitchens where the two were playing tag. Henry kept tripping over his pants which slowed him down, but Edward couldn't seem to catch him anyways; not stepping wide enough and his arms not quite reaching, so there seemed to be no clear winner.

He let the door swing shut.

“Hmm, A whole wardrobe? For two boys? There's no telling how long they'll be this way. We'll need shirts, slacks, vests, coats, shoes and who knows what else. I'd much prefer taking him to a tailor.”

“Him?” Rachel raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, “I suppose you mean Henry.”

“Yes Henry.” he said unflinchingly, “You can't expect me to take Edward Hyde to the bloody tailor, he's still a wanted criminal you know.”

“He's a child!”

“He's a nuisance! He'll probably knock a candle over and set the shop on fire, it's in his nature.” he huffed.

Rachel paused and clenched her hands. She fixed him with a nasty glare.

“Don’t talk like you know him! That fire was *not* his fault! Master Hyde is a sweet boy who’s not done *anything* wrong.”

Lanyon hesitated, surprised by her sudden attitude change. Regardless he cleared his throat.

“Well, you seem to have forgotten about all the drinking and bar fights he’s known for. He's a bad influence. I don’t want him anywhere near Henry.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, “He is *not* a bad influence.”

She walked into the kitchen, swinging the door open and holding her arm out to gesture. “Edward Hyde is a charming young man who would never do anything wrong, much less convince Henry of all people to do so too!”

Both boys were on a chair, eating raw cookie dough directly from the bowl.

They blinked at the adults with their big round eyes.

Robert crossed his arms over his puffed chest, turning to her with an infuriating smirk.

Rachel sighed and got them cleaned up.

First Edward, then she balanced Henry on her hip while leaning over the sink. He was old enough to use the bar of soap by himself but she couldn’t resist wiping his rosy cheeks, humming while she dried his hands with her apron.

His feet barely touched the floor before Robert grabbed his arm and whisked him towards the door.

“Oi! And where do you think you’re going?” Rachel yelped.

“To the tailor, as I said.” Clearly believing he won that argument. Which he hadn't! She just… hadn't had the best timing.

“While he looks like that?” she gestured to Henry’s oversized and by now wrinkled clothes. “Robert, people are gonna think you kidnapped him.”

“Well how do you-” Lanyon made a shooing motion towards Edward, who was trying to follow them, “How do you expect the tailor to make him clothes without measuring him?”

Rachel rolled her eyes, sometimes she couldn't tell when he was being a helpless rich boy who couldn’t do anything himself or just plain stubborn. 

“I’ll take the measurements, they don’t need him there in person. I’ll measure both boys and you can take that to them. 

And say it’s for nephews come to town! No one’s gonna believe Robert Bleeding Lanyon of all people is taking in poor orphans.” That got a snort out of him.

Privately she didn't think it was a good idea to separate the two so soon, they only just stopped crying. And they'd been sticking close together since she and Robert found them. Seemingly feeling safe and comfortable with each other.

She snickered to herself. She couldn’t wait to tell Dr. Jekyll and Hyde how cute they were together.

Once they warmed up to the place the kids will be back at each other's throats in no time!

“Besides, you probably couldn't handle one child much less two.” she smirked.

Robert huffed, Take that! Who's winning now Robert?, and crossed his arms while sitting back down at the table.

“Fine, whatever, just measure them already.”

Rachel ushered the boys to her room, wrapped a measuring tape around the wiggly worms, and wrote a list of things for Lanyon to buy. With notes on fabric types and colors. Lots of Red and Green of course!

As much as she would have loved to see Edward in Eli's old clothes, they hadn't kept any from that age.

The neighborhood they had lived in was in constant need of hand-me-downs, and they hadn't been expecting to need things to remember him by…

Anyway!!!!! That just meant that it was time for her favorite activity:

Dress up time!

‘Edward Hyde’ was not enjoying dress up time.

They liked Rachel, the woman who found them, well enough. She was making them cookies after all, but she's so grabby!

Especially with him, he couldn’t go longer than a minute without being practically picked up in hugs or stuffed with various snacks.

Not that he didn’t want them, he was SUPER hungry after waking up, but the way she squealed when he said ‘Thank you’ hurt his ears.

Henry…it felt weird to call someone else his name. He tried to think of it like the two Jeffery’s in his class, who both had the same name. Instead of someone else who was him.

Henry didn’t like being prodded either. Whispering as much to him when she left the room with her note.

He agreed, and hoped whatever “Situation” the adults said they had to be here for would be over soon.

“Alright! Here are those cookies I promised you, *cooked* this time.” Rachel pouted, entering the room with a silver tray.

“You two are welcome to any books I have when you're done, I'm gonna be busy for a while.” With that she sat at some sort of machine. And started using it to stitch some fabric together.

He knew how to stitch! Well, kinda, Momma had shown him a few times, but putting dead animals back together was different than clothes.

He snuck glances at the boy who was also Henry, who occasionally glanced back.

He wanted to talk to him so bad, surely if they were the same person then he had done that too?

He wanted to ask so many questions, and try things he couldn’t do alone. It was thrilling to potentially have a friend that was willing to do weird stuff with him.

But for now Rachel was in the room, and adults never liked his ‘science’ much.

The two of them sat in silence and ate their cookies.

After what felt like hours the woman straightened up with a pop in her back.

“Whew! Two pairs of shirts and pants in record time! Ready to try them on?”

He looked up and nodded eagerly, dropping the dreadfully boring romance novel, “Yeah! It’s so cold in here.”

She whipped her head to look at him, pigtails flying.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Edward, I should have noticed! I’ll get you some blankets and more of Jekyll's socks, I’m sure we can layer them til you're warm again!”

He was sure she could layer them to the point that he would never walk again.

“Er, no thanks! The clothes will be fine.” he said, dodging another hug.

Henry snickered softly, out of Rachel's hearing. He snuck around and inspected the clothes she put together for them.

They were nothing fancy, buttonless white shirts and coal black pants. The stitching for both of them looked to be black too, but upon closer inspection it was actually a dark green, it seemed she had a lot of green lying around.

He wondered if she would notice if they took out the thread later, or if this was a ‘gift’ they'd have to rewear, like with his extended family.

“Well, when you two are done, come back to the kitchen and I’ll make you something more filling than cookies!” she said, and muttered, “God knows you two don't eat enough.”

“Yes ma’am.” they said in unison. 

With another squeak and a giddy grin she shut the door behind her.

A few minutes later, the door slowly creaks open. And two heads pop out.

Archer was losing his mind. Maybe he saw wrong? Or was finally going mad like the general public believed.

Surely something had happened to his head because he could have sworn he just saw a child.

Two even.

“Uh…did you see that?” he asked Bird, welding pen loose in his grip.

Bird looked up from adjusting one of his contained moss cultures, “Hmm? See what mate?”

Archer was leaning comedically far in his chair to see out the door, cord stretching to its limit.

“Just. Two little…I don’t know, ghosts maybe? One of Maijabi’s do you think?”

Bird raised an eyebrow, “Something on the loose in the society again? Should we tell the others?”

“Uh, could be my imagination.” he said, but set the pen down where it wouldn't burn anything. He stretched his arms above his head and groaned.

“Well, I’m overdue fer a break anyway, it’s been a while since anything interesting’s happened around here.”

Flowers was on the hunt.

She was on her way to the kitchens for a bite when she saw a short shadow dart through the common room.

Fortunately she had all sorts of equipment in her pockets, a true scientist is always prepared! But for some reason her emf reader wasn’t picking anything up.

Not under a couch… not behind this case…

The clack of shoes alerted her to someone approaching but she was more interested in the sound of wheels or metal boots.

“Hello Flowers, what are you looking for?” Tweedy then, she should remember to ask about some more batteries before he left. Her mosquitoes were too small to include a charging port.

“A small robot,” she said, checking under a table, “ ‘bout waist height. I think one of Pennybrigg’s creations is on the loose.”

“Oh, is that what I saw? I thought Ito shrank someone again.” he laughed loudly.

“Yeesh, that woman can be cruel when she's pissed off. Still can’t believe Dr. Jekyll taught her how to do that.” she shuddered.

Tweedy leaned on an armchair, derailed from whatever he’d been doing, “Actually I heard it was Hyde, everyone forgets he is Jekyll’s lab assistant.”

“Ah, well I’ll believe Hyde did that.”

On the floor above, Lavender rushed in, skidding to a stop before the railing. A large net slung over her shoulder.

“Excuse me! Has anyone seen any kids around here?”

Flowers and Tweedy looked up at her in shock.

“Kids?! I thought that was a robot?” Flowers gaped.

“Well *I* thought it was one of our creatures. I saw something slip out of our lab and was chasing it, but it turns out there's actually human children running around the society!” Lavender wheezed.

“I can’t emphasize enough how dangerous this place is for kids.”

The two on the ground floor looked at each other, slack-jawed, then scrambled to help her search.

“Well, we’ll just hope none of your creatures slipped out after them!”

By now it had spread throughout the society that somehow, for some reason, there were children there.

A good amount of lodgers were gathered in a random hallway, loudly trying to figure out what was going on.

“Is it true? Are there really children here?” someone asked.

“Sure are!” Pennybrigg laughed, “I saw them with my own eyes!”

“Huh, I thought that's what that was but I didn't think anyone would be dumb enough to let kids in here.” 

“Does anyone know how many? We can’t have any left behind that's for sure.”

“Just two. I had to chase them out of my lab.” Griffin huffed, “The damn brats laughed at me.”

That earned a few snickers from the very mature adults in the room.

“How’d they even get in here is my question.”

“Well, it’s not like we keep the doors locked, it's probably just some curious teens here for a lark.”

“No, they looked younger than that. What if they're lost and need help?”

“Has anyone seen Dr. Jekyll? He’ll want to know about this.”

“Screw Jekyll! We don’t need him to hold our hands all the time, we can find two kids by ourselves!”

“But if they get hurt it’ll reflect badly on the society!”

The crowd murmured in worry, with people either confirming they locked their labs or resolving to. Luckett cursed and sprinted off right then, almost losing his hat in his haste.

“Then we’ll just find them before they get hurt! Come on, less talking, more looking!” someone said, clapping their hands loudly.

With that the crowd split off into different hallways.

“I GOT ‘EM!”

Twenty minutes later there came a cry from Ranjit Helsby.

Like a flock of birds the lodgers descended upon him. Cheering and pushing to see his catch.

“You cheeky buggers can’t hide from us!” Helsby crowed.

The exploratory bathynaut was carrying one child in each hand.

Scruffed and struggling like kittens, the two were yelping and crying for help.

They seemed to be about the same age. One was brunette, with a healthy flush, and dark brown eyes. He was yelling to be put down and kicking his legs in the air.

The other was smaller, frailer, a little pale but was squirming and kicking the same. He had a wild shock of blond hair, and quite the set of lungs, his voice quickly growing hoarse from his shouting.

The outfits they were wearing were odd. They weren't anything fancy, though they certainly weren't the rags worn by street urchins. Bizarrely, neither of them were wearing shoes. Just plain clothes with visible stitching.

Contemplative, Flowers reached into her pocket.

“Oh Helsby, put them down already!” Cantilupe cried, “They’re damn near the verge of tears!”

Sure enough the boys looked like they were about to start bawling. With the blond starting to hiccup, and the brunette's lip wobbling dangerously.

Pouting, Helsby did, trusting the wall of lodgers to prevent their escape.

Predictably the boys were off the second their feet touched the floor. Everyone reaching arms out and bumping into each other to catch them.

However they didn't try to escape, simply darting for the nearest person wearing a dress. Who happened to be Chabra.

They crashed into her, nearly knocking her off balance. She startled but didn’t pull away. The small boys took hold in fistfuls and buried their faces in her skirt.

Chabra leaned down and awkwardly, cautiously, put her hands on their backs.

“Aww, guys we scared them! They're just babies!” Archer cooed from the crowd, triggering a flood of coos from everyone else.

The blond one peeked out to give a glare, but it was watered down by his red nose and big eyes.

“W-Who are you people? Leave us alone!”

Lavender curiously offered her skirt to the boy closest to her, the brunette.

He eyed it for a moment, then took the bait, reaching a pudgy hand out to the fabric. He didn’t grab on though, only running a hand over it a few times.

Incapable of going one at a time, the lodgers began bombarding the two with questions.

“Are you lost?”

“Do you need us to find your parents?”

“Who sent you??”

“Wot? Nobody-”

“Yeah what? They're literally children!”

“That's what they want you to think!”

“Do you want to see me set this plant on fire?”

“What are your names?”

“Hen-er- Ed-”

“Henderson you say, I had a cousin named that, but my uncle's name wasn’t Hender!”

“Oh, shut up Bryson!”

“No my names-!”

“Do you know someone by the name of Rachel Pigdley?”

The two boys look up at that.

Amidst the swarm of questions, Flowers had managed to win their attention, the other lodgers quieting down attentively.

The boys hesitate, suspicious. They whisper to each other, not even Chabra able to hear despite still leaning at an awkward angle.

“Do *you* know Rachel?”

Flowers puffed in pride at her hypothesis being confirmed. She relaxed her grin into a softer, hopefully reassuring smile.

“I do, she's the Day Manager. Next to Dr. Jekyll, she's the boss around here. Though she’s quite nice when you get to know her.”

Pushing someone out of the way, she approached the boys and carefully knelt by them.

She reached into her pocket. And turned it inside out.

“You see? Rachel’s a friend of mine. She sewed some pockets into my dress for me.” Flowers showed the boys the stitching on her inner pockets. The thread was a lighter shade of green than theirs, to match her dress, but visibly the same pattern and spacing.

She could have done them herself but these ones had been thanks for fixing an alarm clock Hyde had broken when he came in a window once.

This more than anything seemed to convince the boys. They let go of Chabra completely and leaned over her pocket like curious birds.

“Yeah! Rachel patches up some of my stuff too!” Sinnet jumped in.

He raised the elbow of his shirt, where a large brown patch was surrounded by some soot that had never washed out.

Some of the others pitched in, getting the idea.

“Yeah mine too!”

“And me!”

The two boys seem convinced and relax fully. A few people let out sighs of relief that they wouldn't have crying kids on their hands.

“Do you live here too?” asked the blond, looking around at all the people.

Sinnet looked at him quizzically, “Too?”

“Yeah, like Rachel and Robert.”

“Oh, yeah! Can't say I know any Roberts, though.”

“They mean Dr. Lanyon dear. Dr. Robert Lanyon, our co-founder?” Lavender sighed.

“Huh, I didn't think he liked kids, you suppose they’re new recruits of some kind?”

“Do we look like babysitters? Half the things in this building could kill a child like *that*!” Luckett snapped his fingers.

To everyone’s surprise the two boys gasped in excitement, “Really?!”

They didn't look scared, they looked eager. And… curious?

“Er…yeah actually. Do you… want to see them?”

Lavender smacked the man on the shoulder, “Luckett!”

“Come on! You saw their faces!  Remember when you were that age and curious about the world? I'd bet anything these two are scientists!” he nodded confidently.

That got some excited whispers. Everyone turned to look at the two boys.

Their mismatched eyes were open as wide as possible, jaws dropped. “You-you’re scientists?” asked the brunette.

Nods from the crowd.

They looked at each other, then back. “We’re scientists!!!”

“That settles it! Let’s give them the grand tour!!”

The lodgers broke into cheers and lifted the boys up, prancing up the stairs as fast as they could.

As the others raced towards the nearest lab, Cantilupe and Maijabi followed at a more leisurely pace.

Once they reached the landing, the rapid click of flats managed to reach their ears.

Glancing over, they watched as Rachel ran through the halls and the common room. Calling out and frantically checking behind furniture.

“Oh, there's Miss Pidgley. I was beginning to think something had happened to her to have left those boys alone so long.” said Cantilupe.

Maijabi squinted, adjusting his eyepatch, “Hm, least she could’ve done was give us a heads up if there were new lodgers. It’s not like her.”

She paused to take a breath and called out again, “Edward! Henry! Edwaaaardd!!”

“Ah, that explains it, Hyde’s on the loose again.” Cantilupe giggled.

“Ha! That'll keep her busy fer a while. Suppose we’ll have to ask about the boys later then.”

Cantilupe nodded in agreement and they carried on behind the others.

Rachel checked the candelabras to make sure no candles were knocked over.

[thelonelyshore-if]

sfw for perri?

Tysm Nonnie!! Perri sfw alphabet beneath the cut c:

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Perri is pretty affectionate! They’re not the most touchy-feely person in the world outside of a relationship, but I think dating someone would make them a little more physical. They like hugs and really enjoy holding hands. They really enjoy quality time with a partner, and they definitely show affection by sharing music c:

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Oooh Perri’s a great friend. They have a lot of self-doubt but are very loyal–though they can be a bit clingy with those they’re closest to. They’re quite fun to hang out with; especially if you catch them during their show. Perri’s willing to start a friendship with basically anybody who seems interested in what they have to say (and doesn’t seem like they’re going to make fun of them for it).

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

In a relationship, Perri loves to cuddle; though, they can get a bit overwhelmed with too much touch. Their favorite way to cuddle would be spooning and listening to music together.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Perri would like to settle down, I think! They’re a romantic and love the idea of a long-term partner. They’re a decent cook, but they can be a little messy. Their place is never dirty or anything, but it gets cluttered. Lots of piles of books and CDs and records and half-finished glasses of water everywhere. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Oof god uhhhh. I don’t know? Perri hates conflict and is so insecure it would be a huge struggle. They’d be crying the entire time, I think, and really struggle to get the words out. It would be messy as hell.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Marriage? Eventually, someday, maybe. Perri likes the idea of marriage well enough, though it feels very Big right now. They’ve never had a serious relationship, after all. Someday, though; and they’d like a committed relationship even sooner. As soon as possible, actually. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Perri is made out of tissue paper.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Perri loves hugs and they’re good at giving them. Very soft and warm and tight but not too tight, you know? They get very stressed about making things awkward so the hug would never go on too long or anything. Just right.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I think they’d want to wait, but it would slip out without them realizing fairly quickly. And then they’d blush and stutter and be like, “OhmygodIhopethat’sokaydon’thatemeit’swaytoosoon” and it would take MC calming them down for them to just be like…”It’s the truth, though. I do.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Hmmm…they don’t get jealous as much as they get insecure. Less ‘I’m upset you’re flirting with someone else’ and more ‘Am I not good enough??”. And they’d just avoid the subject, half-convinced that they’re about to lose it all.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Shy but eager! Very uncertain but they’d get very into it very quickly. They like stealing any kisses they can get–little pecks on the cheeks, dustings of kisses on your hands, lips pressed into your shoulder. No preference–same for being kissed.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Awkward but fun. They like kids a lot but also don’t really know how to interact with them. Would very eagerly have a conversation with a child about mothman though.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Groggy and silent. Perri’s a talkative person, for all of their nervous energy, but after a long night of not sleeping, they’re fairly zombie-esque in the morning. They take a tiny break from their show, long enough to (fail to) sleep, shower, and get breakfast. All of their anxious energy and cheer will be dulled in the mornings, but they’d still be happier to have you along for the ride.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Opposite–hyped up, excited. Chances are almost every night will be spent running their show, unless there’s something else going on, like a monster hunt or a holiday. They’re energized, excited, more confident. The moonlight gives them strength. As the night goes on and they don’t sleep they fade more and more, but nighttime is their element. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Perri’s a pretty open book; especially because they occasionally will say things without thinking. They blurt out whatever’s on their mind. Even their Trauma and their Lore comes pretty quickly, though they’ll be awkward and embarrassed about it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Eh, it depends. If you do something to piss them off it takes surprisingly little–but there are very few things that will do that. Mocking them or insisting that they’re wrong in their beliefs is a big one, as is insulting the people they care about. Overall, though, they don’t get angry terribly often.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Perri will remember every single random weird fun fact about you and then forget your birthday. Their memory issues don’t do them any favors, but any information that their brain decides is interesting will be remembered forever.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Ah, this one will be hard to do. Hm. Instead I’ll tease a future moment, how about? Perri’s first date will be a conversation under the stars c:

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Hmmm…I wouldn’t call them protective, exactly. Perri isn’t really a fighter. Most likely they’d fall back on their knowledge and their research to try and solve problems. They wouldn’t mind being physically protected, though–they like feeling safe.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

They’d try quite hard, though their memory could cause some issues! They very much so obsess over finding the ‘perfect’ gift, and would try to plan fun dates. That being said, they sometimes can get carried away by what they want to do.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

They have a habit of letting their insecurities win. They’ll ask if you’re mad at them and then struggle to believe you–oftentimes asking again. And maybe again. It’s something they definitely need to work through. On a lighter note, they never finish their drinks. Not a problem, until the bathroom counter is covered in 5 half-empty glasses of water.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Eh, they’re not any more insecure about their looks than they are anything else. In fact, I think more than anything it’s their personality that they stress about. They think they look fine. They don’t consider themself attractive, but they like their clothes and their accessories and their hair, and that’s good enough for them.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh interesting. Hm. Not on the front end–they don’t feel incomplete now–but after being in a relationship for a long time, I could see it. They’d end up very close to a partner, and it wouldn’t feel right without that person after being together for years.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Their favorite candy flavor is green apple, their favorite movie is Tremors, and if they knew what pokemon was, their partner pokemon would be reuniclus.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Perri struggles with skeptics. They respect the desire to pursue logic, but they hate it when people act like they’re crazy for believing in the supernatural. They know their experiences are real, and even if they weren’t…where’s your whimsy? Don’t you want the world to be magical? It isn’t a dealbreaker (unless you’re an asshole about it), but it isn’t their favorite trait in a partner, either.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

On the few occasions they’re actually able to sleep, they find that they never remember their dreams. It bums them out. The least their brain can do is give them fun scenarios to dream about.

[antianakin]

I'm gonna toss your tags on here, too, since I'm kind-of responding to that, as well.

The amount of times I started an AU and it went WILDLY in a different direction than I thought are too numerous to count. Half the time I start an AU it's out of some level of bitterness or spite towards something I didn't like and then I spend a lot of time on those questions that are like "Wait would this character ACTUALLY do that? Is that ACTUALLY how they'd likely react?" and of course the most frustrating "Is that actually how I WANT them to react?"

My Caretaker Luke AU was supposed to basically be a very bitter answer to the question of what would happen if Vader actually survived ROTJ, and then ultimately it became an exploration of what might actually help Anakin HEAL in that situation, what would it take to truly help someone like him genuinely come back from that darkness he'd stewed in for almost three decades (because no matter what kind of sacrifices he made, there's NO WAY he'd be completely snapped back to being a good person if he survived, that bitch is STRUGGLING). I made an Obitine AU that looked at how miserable Obi-Wan would've been if he'd actually stayed with Satine and married her when he was in his teens and that ALSO ended up with an exploration of how to save Anakin (though for different reasons this time). Sometimes these fuckers have a mind of their own and the more I take myself down that rabbit hole the further from my original concept I seem to get. It's not always a bad thing, often it's still really fun, but it's such a weird experience to look back at all this work you've done and not quite understand how you even GOT here when this isn't where you thought you were going when you started.

I made a point in the last AU I came up with to just... ignore some of those questions to focus on what I WANTED to happen (in this case, I was ignoring how Padme realized Anakin wasn't good for her and how she managed to actually escape him and that relationship and what path Anakin went down afterwards as a result because I just wanted to focus on Padme's NEW relationship and how that helped HER heal). Why did things happen? Because I wanted them to, next question.

And while I'm not a writer really by any means, it seems like a lot of writing is just... finding a balance between following that rabbit hole and seeing where it leads, and knowing when to say "This thing happens because I want it to in order for the next thing to happen." Not everything NEEDS an explanation, but it can help YOU to flesh out the culture and its intricacies and where certain traditions and feelings came from in order to lend a feeling of authenticity to the story even if you never actually explain any of it in the final draft. Even if you don't end up using any of the purity culture stuff you put in your last reblog, hopefully it was still helpful to think about how you might answer some of those questions and work through what parts are important to keep and which parts you think ultimately don't work.

I found your thoughts on how the clones might end up feeling about the idea that their "species" as such might eventually disappear really interesting! I also personally tend to think of them as their own "species" in a lot of ways, but that's usually for my own internal purposes rather than a way to consider how the CLONES think of themselves. I often have only really considered how the clones differentiate themselves in terms of their lived experiences and not necessarily in terms of their physical differences. They're obviously visibly human and would pass as human to most people and I imagine there's probably plenty of clones who would prefer to simply be considered a slightly augmented human rather than considered a whole separate species, while other clones would prefer the opposite.

I really respect your willingness to consider how the clones might end up with problematic values as a result of their experiences, to give them qualities you would personally consider unlikable. I'm not quite as good at that, so I really admire the way you work through some of that, even if you ultimately decide you don't like it and don't want to use it in your worldbuilding.

I've decided that Rex is the one who paints Kanan's eye mask with his bird of prey design.

Kanan's feeling pretty low still just after Malachor, he's still distancing himself from everybody, and Rex decides to go try to talk to him at one point and the first thing he comes up with to say is to point out that his new mask is pretty plain. It's awkward, he regrets it immediately, but then Kanan says that it gets the job done and Rex is abruptly reminded of himself so so long ago back at the beginning of the war.

He sits Kanan down and tells him a story about how, at the beginning of the war, only a few of the clones had paint on their armor, to designate things like rank and battalion in order to make it easier for officers to find them in the middle of a busy battlefield. The paint was practical and it was limited to a very select few. But the Jedi almost immediately started trying to encourage the clones to utilize the paint less sparingly, suggesting that maybe everybody could wear at least a LITTLE paint and use more individualized designs so that it was still easy to tell the commanders and captains apart from the others when needed.

Some of the clones had taken to it with gusto, but others had been more hesitant, and Rex remembers having been one of them. He remembers telling Obi-Wan that there was no real REASON to paint everyone's armor and especially not to come up with personal designs. The armor was practical and it served its purpose with or without the paint and special designs. But the Jedi had insisted on at least TRYING to come up with his own design and if he didn't like it, he could always take it off, so Rex had given in and chosen something to paint on the armor. And, somehow, it felt a little lighter the next time he put it on. It didn't erase the horrors of war or the pain of loss or anything like that, but it helped.

He tells Kanan that the mask right now is just a reminder of the pain of the injury and whatever other feelings he's still got all caught up in the Malachor mission (guilt over what happened with Ezra, grief over Ahsoka's loss). But if he puts his own design on it, it might turn the mask into something other than a constant reminder of something bad. Instead, it's a reminder of who he is, the combination of the person he once was and who he's become. He is more than just his injury or this mission and he can use the mask to declare that if he wants to.

Kanan says he never realized Rex and the other clones had cared so deeply about their armor and Rex says that the armor itself was meaningless. It's better than what's being handed out to stormtroopers, but not but a LOT. It was the design on it that had meant something and, more than that, it was what the design REPRESENTED: having a choice about how you were perceived by others.

Kanan asks why Rex had chosen his particular designs, the bird of prey eyes on his helmet in particular. Rex explains that he chose it because he liked birds and thought it looked cool, but he's kept the helmet for as long as he has because it's come to mean something ELSE now. It's not just a cool-looking design, it's a reminder of a better time in his life. It's a reminder of when he'd been a part of something greater than himself, with the other clones and the Jedi. It's a reminder of a time when he'd had hope that he and his people could one day come out the other side of this war towards a brighter future.

Kanan looks at the mask he'd grabbed from storage somewhere or something just to keep light from hurting his eyes as they recovered and to cover up the injury from other people's stares (even if he couldn't see them staring), then hands it to Rex and asks if Rex minds sharing that symbol because he'd like a reminder of that, too. Rex remembers the 332nd and their helmets that they'd painted to look like their chosen Jedi, almost blindly giving away their individuality in favor of that loyalty that had been stripped from them anyway. And then he looks at Kanan, choosing to make himself look LIKE REX, someone who had shared his face with millions once, because he wants to honor both the connections he'd lost as well as this new connection the two of them have built together now. And Rex says he'd be happy to share.

[billionbrilliantstars]

I’ve spent most of my life trying to be moderate in my politics. Trying to see both sides because I want us all to love each other. Even after the first Trump presidency I tried to tell myself a lot of people didn’t understand who they were voting for and chose the lesser of two evils. I blamed everything on polarization and the two party system. So much so that despite voting Democrat for president and senate, I voted third party for the house. I do think the two party system should go, eventually, but it is now on the bottom of my priority list.

The reason I felt comfortable holding these beliefs was because I thought there was no more need for extreme politics. The Civil Rights movement had to be extreme, because things were so bad. All of the feminist movements had to be extreme, because things were so bad. And while 2016 was a huge wakeup call, Hillary won the popular vote. So I still convinced myself that there was room to moderate. No longer.

This year Trump had almost exactly the same amount of votes as last time, but 13 million people who voted for Joe Biden, a white man, did not come back and vote for Kamala Harris this year. What possible disadvantage could she have compared to Biden? She’s younger, more articulate, more relatable, more charismatic, more vibrant, has a longer history of defending others, and is more openly empathetic. Why would she lose 13 million people who voted Democrat just four years later? Historically a party losing that many votes from one general election to the next is very rare. The last time it happened was when the republican Gerald Ford lost 8 million republican votes that previously went to Nixon in the last election.

That was because of Watergate. The only reason for Kamala Harris to get 13 million votes less than Biden was that is is a woman and she’s black. The only thing Biden had that she didn’t have was that he is a white man. Let that sink in. Donald Trump is a blatant racist and a convicted felon. He was proven guilty of sexual assault. But he was preferable over a competent and intelligent black woman without a blemish on her record.

I thought the time for extremism has passed. But It’s still here. This is not a time to concede or moderate. Women’s rights are still very much on the line just like they were when feminist movements were huge. Racial equality is still on the line just like it was in MLJ Jr’s era. I want a united country. I want to live in a world where we all understand each other’s perspectives. But bigotry is not a compromise and it’s as big of a problem as it ever was. We are a long way from an era where it will be safe to compromise on politics.