#but also like would we really have worked out?

[uisceb]

Okay I want to talk about this moment between Morrible and Glinda for a sec because it adds such a wonderfully sinister layer to a scene that is otherwise a triumphant defining moment for Elphaba, and it sets up the dynamics for Part 2 so perfectly.

At this point, we are in the thick of “Defying Gravity.” Everyone’s attention is on Elphaba - and rightfully so, she’s up there declaring war on the Wizard, displaying incredible feats of magic, of course everyone’s attention is on her.

…Everyone, except Morrible.

Morrible has realized that Plan A was a bust, but rather than panicking, she’s already worked over Plans B through Z in her head and has realized that Glinda, not Elphaba, is actually the key figure here. Glinda is actually the best thing that could have happened to them.

Mind you, Morrible hates Glinda. She thinks Glinda is vapid and attention-seeking and completely without talent. It would be extremely easy for her to brand Glinda as an accomplice to Elphaba, have the guards drag her off, imprison her, never have to deal with her again, nice and neat.

Instead, while everyone else is focused on Elphaba, Morrible only has eyes for Glinda. She zeroes in on her, releases her, and comforts her, because she understands what no one else understands, which is that yes, that’s great that the Wizard now has an enemy to unify his people against, but they also need a symbol of hope, something that is the exact antithesis to Elphaba, something to keep everyone at extremes. 

The Wizard himself can’t really be a symbol of hope, because the key to his success is that he remains shrouded in mystery, and yes people think he’s wonderful, but there’s a level of uncertainty and intimidation to him. He is Oz the Great and Terrible, and everyone’s preeeeeetty sure he’s a good guy, but if you have someone like Elphaba out there - who Morrible knows from experience is very smart, very articulate, and has her own sort of magnetism - there’s a potential that she could turn at least enough people against the Wizard to make things very inconvenient.

So what they need, now that they have an enemy, is to have an equally magnetic figurehead representing the Wizard who embodies all these one-dimensional ideas of goodness, someone for the public to adore and fawn over so the association between Wizard and Goodness is crystal clear.

And by bringing Glinda along, Elphaba has unknowingly served that figurehead up on a platter.

Glinda is everything Elphaba isn’t, from personality, to appearance - Morrible has already set Elphaba up by calling her green skin an “outward manifestorium of her twisted nature,” which paves the way for Glinda, who is the perfect conventional beauty, to be an “outward manifestorium” of pure goodness. 

Morrible realizes they need these two lightning rods of Absolute Evil and Absolute Good in order to manipulate people - fear alone isn’t enough; the only way to effectively radicalize the populace is to make sure there is no gray area whatsoever, no room for question: you're either good, or you’re evil. And the Wizard alone isn’t a strong enough representation of “goodness” when by virtue of existing, he has to remain in the shadows. Glinda on the other hand? With her looks and her charm and her openness and her ability to expertly win over a crowd? Perfect for the role.

Now the tricky part for Morrible is taking into consideration that Glinda and Elphaba love each other. But we also know from earlier scenes that Morrible is a master at manipulating emotions. Right from the start when Elphaba is having trouble with her magic, Morrible casually brings up the “Animals should be seen and not heard” disturbance from class, spoon-feeding her just enough to get Elphaba upset, triggering her magic, after which Morrible makes sure to give her assurance and praise to keep Elphaba optimistic about her power.

She’s also aware that Glinda does have quite a bit of influence over Elphaba, because when Elphaba flees, Morrible immediately tasks her with winning her over, rather than simply relying on the guards or even going after Elphaba herself. She knows if anyone has a chance at roping Elphaba back in, it's Glinda.

Obviously, Glinda isn’t successful in getting her back, but while this puts a dent in Morrible’s plans to get control of Elphaba, it does give her an extra weak spot to exploit in Glinda.

So now, at the height of “Defying Gravity” when Elphaba has officially taken her stand against them, Morrible sees Glinda, and Glinda is at her most vulnerable, her most emotionally fragile. Not only is she heartbroken and in shock, she’s also just witnessed in real time exactly how easy it is to turn an entire nation against someone. She’s scared, she’s powerless. She’s just lost the love of her life her only friend, she has no one to turn to - Morrible has definitely picked up on the fact that even though Glinda has countless people who fawn over her, none of them can be considered a true friend except for Elphaba, which means Glinda is completely isolated. Glinda also has a very limited understanding of the bigger picture of what the Wizard is trying to accomplish, and because she’s never been a victim of the system the way Elphaba has, she is still desperately clinging to the idea that everything will be okay as long as she plays by the rules of the people in power.

She has been perfectly primed for Morrible to begin manipulating, not through violence or intimidation, but by offering her comfort when no one else would - when not even Glinda’s only friend would - when no one else is even paying attention to Glinda, because they have the very real and present threat of Elphaba quite literally hanging over them. In this moment, Morrible chooses Glinda, which Glinda has been striving for since the beginning. Elphaba has chosen her principles, the Wizard has chosen his enemy, but Morrible has chosen Glinda, and in this moment of being so alone and so afraid and so betrayed, that makes all the difference.

We also get kind of a parallel shot too - Elphaba really sealed her fate the second her hand closed around the broom. But here, Glinda seals her fate when she gives in and reciprocates Morrible’s hold on her.

THIS is the moment that sets us up for Part 2, with Elphaba and Glinda as our lightning rods for Absolute Evil and Absolute Good, but more to the point, it makes it clear that they’ve BOTH been used, they’ve BOTH played right into these respective roles Morrible and the Wizard need in order to be successful - even if it wasn’t how Morrible originally planned for things to go.

I just love it, because “Defying Gravity” is Elphaba’s song - it’s triumphant, and it’s heartbreaking, and it’s everything a defining moment should be for a character. But by injecting this little moment between Morrible and Glinda into the scene, we also get an underlying current of dread because we know we’re about to see the consequences of Elphaba’s defiance versus Glinda’s compliance and how both serve to benefit the Wizard/Morrible’s propaganda.

TL;DR - when I said "I want to talk about this scene between Morrible and Glinda for a sec" I clearly meant "I'm gonna write a whole essay. Like a nerd."

[wendichester]

Can I request cute Dean fluff of him realising he’s in love with you when you take care or save Sam from something bc we all know that man would know he’s found the one when she cares just as much for Sam as he does

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ 🩹｡˚ aftercare,

summary. taking care of sam is also taking care of dean ‹𝟹

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 782

notes. the softest boy sigh

You’re kneeling next to Sam, your hands moving quickly as you press a clean rag against the gash on his arm. The hunt had gone sideways—too many moving parts, too many variables—but you’d managed to keep it from going completely off the rails. Now, the three of you are holed up in a shabby motel room, the faint smell of antiseptic mixing with the metallic tang of blood.

Dean stands a few feet away, his hands gripping the back of a chair, watching as you work. He should be helping, should be doing something, but all he can do is stare. There’s a look of determination on your face, tempered by the kind of gentle care that makes his chest ache.

“Hold still, Sam,” you murmur, your voice soft but firm. “I know it hurts, but this needs to be cleaned.”

Sam winces but doesn’t argue. “I’m fine. It’s not that bad.”

You glance up at him, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because you’re bleeding all over my jeans.”

Sam chuckles weakly, the sound turning into a hiss of pain as you dab at the wound. “Okay, maybe it’s a little bad.”

Dean’s lips twitch at the corners, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s too busy trying to process the strange, overwhelming warmth blooming in his chest. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you take care of someone before—you’ve patched him up more times than he can count—but this feels different. Watching you with Sam, seeing the way you’re willing to get your hands dirty to keep his brother safe... it does something to him.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” you say, your tone matter-of-fact as you reach for the first aid kit. “Dean, can you grab me the thread and needle?”

He snaps out of his daze, nodding quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.” He rummages through the kit, pulling out the supplies and handing them to you. His fingers brush yours, and for a second, he forgets how to breathe.

You don’t notice—or maybe you do, but you don’t say anything. Instead, you focus on threading the needle, your hands steady despite the tension in the room. “This is gonna sting,” you warn Sam, your voice gentle.

“Just do it,” Sam mutters, bracing himself.

Dean watches as you work, your movements precise but careful. You talk to Sam the whole time, distracting him with small jokes and reassurances, and Dean can see the way his brother relaxes under your touch. It’s like you’ve got this magic about you, this ability to make even the worst situations feel manageable.

When you finally finish, tying off the last stitch, you sit back on your heels and let out a sigh. “There. You’re all patched up. Try not to rip it open again, okay?”

Sam gives you a small smile. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do all that.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I did. What kind of person would I be if I let you bleed out in a crappy motel room?”

Dean’s heart stumbles in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone cared about Sam like that—someone who wasn’t him. And it’s not just the act of taking care of him; it’s the way you do it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like Sam’s life is just as important to you as it is to him.

You stand up, brushing off your hands, and glance at Dean. “He’ll be fine, but he needs rest. And food. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten since this morning?”

Dean blinks, caught off guard. “Uh... no. Not really.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Alright, I’ll order something. You two sit tight.”

As you step into the adjoining room to make the call, Dean looks over at Sam. His brother’s eyes are already closing, exhaustion pulling him under, but there’s a faint smile on his face.

When you come back, carrying your phone and rattling off a list of takeout options, Dean feels it hit him like a freight train. This is it. This is love. It’s not just about how he feels when you’re around—it’s about how you make everything better. How you make him better. How you’d do anything for Sam, the way he would.

You catch him staring and raise an eyebrow. “What?”

Dean shakes his head, a slow, disbelieving smile spreading across his face. “Nothing,” he says, his voice warm. “Just... thanks. For everything.”

Your expression softens, and you give him a small smile in return. “Always.”

Dean watches you for a moment longer, the realization settling deep in his bones. He’s in love with you. And if he’s honest, he doesn’t think he ever stood a chance.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 25

masterpost

Despite the chill in the air, it was a lovely day to be outside. The sun was warm, the ground had dried out after a few days of rain, and the trees were in full color. Danny threw the ball again for Ursa, using the odd launching stick that Dick had gotten for them. It was appreciated, really. Ursa could run and Danny couldn’t throw the ball nearly as far as she wanted by hand.

Ursa raced back with the ball, just a cloud of black fur, and darted right past Danny. Danny spun around quickly, not wanting Ursa to jump on Alfred again (they were working on it), and almost swallowed his tongue.

“Ursa! Gentle, girl! Be gentle!” Danny called out as he took off after her.

Luckily, Ursa listened and planted her fluffy butt on the ground even if she was still wiggling around excitedly.

“Hi there, Ursa, it’s nice to meet you,” Babs said with a soft smile as she held out her hand to be sniffed.

Ursa dropped the ball in the offered hand with a quiet woof and a large grin. Luckily Babs didn’t seem to mind the sudden, slobbery present and threw the ball like Ursa wanted. Ursa was off after it like a bolt.

“Sorry about her,” Danny said as he scratched at the back of her neck. “Play time means fetch right now. She’s pretty determined about these things.”

“That’s okay,” Babs said as she wiped off her hand on her jeans. “She seems like a real sweat dog.”

“She is. It’s been really good to have her.” Danny didn’t even try to hide how found he sounded. He kept his eyes on Ursa, not able to look at Babs as he asked. “Did you… did you find anything?”

“I did.” Babs’ voice was gentle. “Do you want to know now?”

“I— yes, but no? I think this will… I guess… I don’t want to hear this alone, but I think that means I’ll need to explain everything.”

Ursa dropped her ball and came over to Danny where she pressed herself firmly against his leg. Danny buried a hand in her soft fur.

“They’ll all wait however long you need them to,” Babs said.

“I know. But I think… I think I do need to tell them, if I want to get better, and I want to get better.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure the family is on the way for dinner tonight and we can talk once they get here,” Babs said with that carefully gentle sort of voice that Danny always hated a little. Jazz used to do that too. “In the mean time, I’d love to get to know Ursa more.”

Danny cleared his throat. “So, I guess it’s obvious that she really likes fetch…”

-

Dick helped Babs settle onto the sofa. She didn’t need the help, not really, but the easy back and forth of movement was just natural for them, even after all of these years. It also gave him someone to fuss over that wasn’t Danny. What he wanted to do was scoop Danny up into a hug and never let him go. Dick figured that would be a bit too stifling though. Instead, Dick made sure that Babs had her laptop while the rest of the room got settled.

Danny chose the floor, apparently. He leaned back against Jason’s legs while Tim was pressed on the other side with Steph crammed next to him. Damian was on the floor next to Danny. The two were oddly hard to separate. Ursa had draped herself across both their laps; Danny dug his fingers into her mane. He didn’t look up at the rest of the room, even as Cass sat on the arm of the couch.

They hadn’t been told much about why they were there, a fact that ate at Bruce, but he worked to let that go. Danny had asked them to be there and to the one, they had shown up. Alfred was passing around hot chocolate with Duke’s help. The inclination that the comforting drink would be needed was probably right, as much as Dick hated that. He took his own mug and clung to it like a lifeline.

“The other night,” Babs started, “Danny asked me to look into someone for him, a Jasmine Fenton.”

On the television, a picture of redheaded girl appeared. The person who’s hair Babs had reminded Danny of, Dick realized. It looked like a school photo: mediocre studio lighting, bland background, a forced smile. She was late teens with a scatter of freckles and bright blue eyes.

“Jasmine Fenton, age nineteen, is currently enrolled at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville, where her permanent residence is.”

“Arkansas?” Danny asked quietly.

Babs nodded. “She’s been in the state since she entered the custody of Alica Bayard, Jasmine’s aunt from her mother’s side, almost two years ago.”

Danny sagged forward, burring his face into Ursa’s mane. “Oh thank god.”

“Why did her aunt receive custody?” Bruce asked when none of the rest of them seemed able to.

The steadying breath that Babs had to take wasn’t reassuring. “Jasmine was removed from her parent’s custody after the living conditions were found unsafe. This was part of an investigation into the disappearance of her brother, Daniel Fenton.”

A familiar face joined Jasmine’s on the screen. It was the same, awkward sort of school photo and Danny looked even more uncomfortable in it. His hair was shorter, his eyes bluer, and there were none of the scars. This was Danny before everything went wrong.

“The parents, doctors Jackson and Madison Fenton, were never charged with anything relating to the disappearance. They moved away from Amity Park four months later, likely due to increasing hostility from the town.”

“They weren’t dumb enough to keep me in the house,” Danny said. His words were somehow loud in the room despite being muffled by Ursa’s fur. He gave a mirthless chuckle. “You know, I used to think they were … not dumb, but clueless, you know? That they were science smart and low in everything else. The hapless, accidentally mad scientists. And then… and then I find out how much they had planned. That all of me was planned… I don’t know if anything about them was real.”

Damian leaned over to press against Danny’s side, offering his silent support. Dick was proud of how good a brother Damian was to Danny. It was a small silver lining in all of this. Danny slumped against him.

Danny’s eyes flicked back up to the screen and his sister’s face. He glanced away a long moment later. “Is there… are there any picture of the lab from the report that you can put up?”

Of course Babs had the photos and soon they were cycling through on the screen.

Mad scientists was right. The place looked distinctly science fiction, full of every day objects and tools that should be recognizable but where three steps away from reality. Everything was gleaming metal accented with a toxic green.

“My… they… the Fentons are ecto-biologists,” Danny explained as the rest of the room cataloged the details in the pictures.

“Ghost biologists?” Tim asked with furrowed brows.

“Yeah. Not that they ever met the ethics that biologists go by. But they didn’t think ghosts were sentient let alone sapient, so I don’t know why they even called themselves that. They didn’t… the screams means it’s working,” Danny said, choking on something between a laugh and a sob.

Jason cursed, the words a low rumble of anger that echoed through the rest of the room.

Dick had to get up and pace.

He brushed his fingers lightly over his family as he moved through the room, assuring himself they were all there and alright. Bruce caught his fingers and squeezed. Dick huffed, but settled lightly on the arm of Bruce’s chair.

“There’s a lot I didn’t really think about as a kid,” Danny said, once the room had settled again. “I should have. But they were—I thought they were my parents. I thought they knew best. When I started to really pay attention… we didn’t see eye to eye pretty quickly, but I thought they were just misguided, you know? I thought that maybe, eventually, I could talk to them about all the things that I’d learned and show them that they were wrong. But I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what, sweetheart?” Bruce asked.

“That I was never their son. I was just a lab rat.”

“Danny,” Cass called softly.

Danny shook his head. “It’s true! They even said it: ‘you can love the test monkey, Danny, but you can’t let that get in the way of the experiment’. Apparently I was an easy monkey to care for. Not too demanding. Easy enough for them to just add to the effort they already put towards Jazz, their real kid. Easy enough to ignore when they wanted. For me it was all just… normal. Just how I grew up.”

Tim bumped Danny with his leg. “Don’t worry, Steph and I will teach you how to annoy everyone in this family so that they can’t ignore you.”

The little snort of laughter Danny made seemed to surprise even him.

“Not that we would want to ignore you anyways, Dandelion,” Jason said. “We’re not perfect, but we’re family. Real family.”

Danny leaned back against Jason’s legs, a faint smile on his lips. Dick felt something in himself unwind at the sight. Jason was right, they were far from perfect, but they were family and they would be there for Danny always. It would talk time, a lot of time, but Danny would be alright. And all along healing he’d be loved.

Bab’s caught Dick’s eye. She clearly had more to tell, but Dick shook his head slightly. Give everyone a moment. Let everyone process and drink their hot chocolate and eat some of the cookies that Alfred brought with his impeccable timing. When everything was calmer and the cookies almost gone, Dick got up and returned to his seat by Babs. He touched her wrist gently. It was as good as time as any.

“So I’ve figured out when the Fentons visited Gotham,” Babs said. An old, poor quality image of a convention banner popped up on the television. It was for alternative energies. Next to it was a list of booths, the Fenton’s ‘Ectoplasm Energy’ booth highlighted. “But what I don’t understand is why they chose to clone Bruce. They never tried to use it as a claim for child support or any of the obvious reasons someone would clone a Wayne for.”

“I, um, never knew the when,” Danny said, squinting at the images. “I didn’t… I didn’t even find out the who until I was escaping. It was stupid to stop and look, they could have come back at any moment, but I had to know, you know? But I know the why. Bruce registers as a liminal. I would bet all of you do except for Steph and maybe Alfred. Well, Jason is more like me and Dami is something other, something more. Duke’s totally different.”

Bruce leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Liminal.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. It can—like, it’s not the best term, really, because it can mean a lot. A lot of exposure to death, exposure to death at key moments, being somewhere liminal for a really long time, or longterm exposure to ectoplasm can cause it.”

“Is it dangerous?” Tim asked, mouth twisted in a curious frown.

“No,” Danny said quickly. “Think of it sorta like a meta gene? Some people are more susceptible to being liminal and liminals, if exposed to the right… incentives, can develop… not powers but kinda? Or, if things go really wrong, can turn into a halfa.

“My—the Fentons are really immune to being liminal, they learned that in college when their lab partner got really sick and then later turned into a halfa. I dodn’t know if… I don’t know if they would have tried to use Jazz like that did me if not. I don’t think so but… well, they didn’t have to worry about her when they exposed me to all sorts of stuff around the house growing up.”

“They chose to clone me simply because I was a liminal?” Bruce asked. He sounded befuddled.

To be fair, it was like the weirdest reason ever to clone Bruce Wayne and Batman.

“Yeah. A strong one,” Danny said. “Gotham itself is pretty liminal and you’re, you know, both her knight and her prince. I think you were sort of like the perfect choice for them to pick. I guess you went to the convention. They had you handle a device, it nicked you enough for them to get blood. They, um, would have played it off. Like they bragged, everyone always just thought D…Jack was just a bumbling fool. It let him get away with a lot.”

“They snagged Bruce’s blood and cloned you to just, what, have their own liminal?” Steph asked. Her nose scrunched up at the whole idea of it.

“Yeah. Apparently they tracking how much I was exposed to and what my levels where. I didn’t… I never noticed. It was just growing up. My, they always did my check ups. Experiments were left everywhere. I cleaned the lab. Sometimes hot dogs came back to life and attacked.”

“What?!” Duke squawked.

“One more reason to be vegetarian,” Damian tsked.

Danny just shrugged. “It was just life. But, um, I didn’t really get any powers or anything so they pushed things. They set it up for me to die and be exposed to a huge amount of ectoplasm at the same time.”

Dick stilled. “It was planned?”

“What?”

“You said they killed you, but it… that was planned. Killing you was planned?”

“Oh, yeah,” Danny said softly. “Like, I thought it was an accident, just being a stupid teen and not being safe enough around big science experiments. My friend just wanted a picture of me in the portal. It turned on and—”

Danny trailed off, fingers tight in Ursa’s fur.

“And halfa.” Cass said.

“And halfa,” Danny agreed. “Which I guess was the best outcome. I could have just died and been a ghost. It was proof that someone liminal enough could be dead and not at the same time. My, um, my friend Sam said I was responsible to fight the ghosts that the portal accident let out. It was just another way to test my powers and see how they grew. Not that, it wasn’t Sam testing me, but the Fentons would let ghosts ‘escape’ and I would fight them and get new skills.”

“You were a hero, Master Danny?” Alfred asked with a purposeful look to Bruce.

Bruce had the good graces to look a little chagrined. “It just seems part of the make up at this point?”

Danny smiled a little. “I guess. I went by Phantom. The city didn’t always like me, the ghosts could cause a lot of damage, but nothing ever got too bad. I really thought I was doing something important.”

“You were,” Tim insisted. “Even if the Fentons were the real villain behind it all, you still dealt with the threats that you knew about.”

“…I guess?” Danny agreed doubtfully. “I don’t know if it matters when they just were waiting for my powers to stagnate. Apparently they had pressure from the group that was funding them, the GWI, for results so they moved up their time line. I went to sleep and woke up in a box in a GIW lab. Then I was just a lab rat. I was just something to experiment on and cut into and—and—”

Dick moved to the floor and Danny’s side, pulling his newest little brother into a tight hug. “Don’t. You don’t have to think about that anymore.”

They had seen the scars.

They knew the sort of things that Danny had been through.

That those monsters had done.

Danny didn’t need to relive any of it just to try and explain things to them. Part of Dick wanted to protect his other siblings from having to be exposed to those horrors too, even with everything else they had been through. Danny sniffled wetly and buried his face into Dick’s shoulder. Hitched sobs wracked his body. Ursa huffed and tried to lick Danny’s chin. Damian leaned closer.

Dick looked up at Jason who was already watching Dick with a question in his gaze. Jason didn’t listen to anyone, not really, but this was a family mater and Dick was the oldest child. It was his call. Dick didn’t even hesitate to nod.

Jason looked viciously pleased.

Jason and Tim could handle the Fentons. The Titans would see to the GWI. The Justice League could deal with any fallout. The family would protect their own.

Dick pulled Danny closer as he let him cry.

---

AN: *lies down dead like Danny* this chapter was exhausting to write. I hope you all like it and it feels full.

[shrimpleton]

#legit always been confused about this having never worked stock and rarely ever worked tills#is it just that yall don’t care? like there’s obvi stock in that back room he’s showing#is he doing this intentionally against the customer in some way cause he just can?#cause he dgaf if the shop makes the sale?#cause i truly miss the days when i used to ask and they would come back with the item . idk when or why this practice ever changed#cause ik it’s a video but he headed straight back and just chilled and didn’t even imply trying to look for the item#was i just going to shops that were too bougie or was it that the shop im remembering is a co-op?#looking for genuine and sincere responses here pls

Having worked stock I can answer this question for you: Because whatever the customer is looking for is not there and he knows it's not there, but customers often need a visual reassurance that you're not trying to lie to them for some reason.

Used to be that product was bought in intervals by someone going through and logging what was low, and then ordering a lot of something they knew was high-demand just to have on hand. Now a lot of stores these days have automatic restock on most merchandise that triggers if it gets low/runs out in the system, and then we'd see it the next Wednesday shipment (or whenever the "big" weekly shipment happens for the store). Often there's also only enough to fill the shelf space for that week to avoid pile-ups in backrooms, and special seasonal stuff shows up in batches before the season even starts and never again after that, giving limited merchandise to sell that just sits in the backroom for 3 months.

Sometimes something gets stolen/broken/etc that makes everyone think it's out of stock and yet there really is something in the back—much to our surprise—but unless the backroom is in good order (and usually it's not, due to not having enough workers), it's gonna take 45 minutes to 3 hours to find exactly what we're looking for, since there's a bunch of other stock and also seasonal products that we have to shift through. And since there's often not enough workers, then whoever is sent back doesn't actually have enough time to actually look and can only pretend to look before they gotta get back to the floor to get back to their tasks on hand.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

A quick timeline of Tommy and Dream's friendship.

Dream and Tommy streamed together and they had a good time so Dream invited him to his server. Tommy streamed on the DSMP server and there's where he and the server both started to really blow up. Tommy and Tubbo were 16 and Dream was 21. (Tommy was on around 250k on youtube when he joined the server and Dream was at like 4 mil).

Dream gave Tommy a bunch of youtube advice around this time as well and they got into lots of long night calls as they were both pretty hardworking and interested in making it big on youtube.

When Tommy and Dream streamed together their streams were very popular. Their comedy seemed to mesh really well but there was some underlying friction. Tommy is hugely sarcastic and plays minecraft very ironically. He would at times like to misinterpret what people said and then remind them that he's a minor. Some of these jokes were funny. A few were more grating for me personally (Eg I never liked the 'what's the worst word you know' jokes). But yeah this was purely comedy and Tommy loves to take the mick out of his friends. Also sometimes Dream and his friends did make the odd inappropriate joke.

Eventually the server and the fanbase got really big and people got super invested into the minecraft roleplay. Tommy and Dream's exile arc where Dream played a cruel villain and Tommy his victim was particularly notable creating a huge narrative around their characters' dynamic.

Then Tommy started to get burnt out on the server. Everyone was a bit. Dream was also rarely ever online not to mention other things going on. Whatever the case, the DSMP was coming to an end.

There had been plenty of drama amongst the CCs and Dream had been through plenty. The most famous was the speedrunning cheating scandal. There was also the manatreed thing. But allegations started coming out that Dream could not ignore. He'd apparently been sexting a minor. A few other stories came out too. And fans began distancing themselves from Dream. There was pressure on the CCs too.

However, Dream had convinced the server of a new vision: Dream SMP season 2!! Reset the server and do it all over again. End all the current plots as best you can and get ready for more!!! So they made a terrible ending of them blowing up the server.

And then a lot of CCs spoke out and said they didn't want to do DSMP season 2. It didn't feel right. Maybe because of the allegations, maybe because the plot sounded bad.

So Dream pulled the plug on the idea. Tommy was probably not best pleased that season 2 tanked so soon after the dark ending.

But Dream came up with a new idea. THE USMP. It would be an international server with live translation or something. All we know is that he had gotten Tommy on board and Tommy was excited by this. Tommy wanted to do another server with Dream still.

But yeah, the allegations hadn't gone away and a new drama surfaced. Quackity had plans for his own new SMP he was passionate about and Dream was threatened as it sounded so similar to his own plan. (They happened to have come up with the ideas independently.)

This erupted into drama as Quackity left Dream on read and didn't engage with him.

And Dream's server.... didn't happen. Again the server he'd promised Tommy didn't seem any closer to being realised. Just like in the DSMP, Dream wasn't shown to being much good at organising anything. The ending of the DSMP was badly managed because communication was so bad.

So as USMP wasn't happening, Tommy had been seeing what was happening, seeing both sides and wrote a skit. If youtubers were honest which made fun of Dream's response to Quackity given everything. Tommy was likely mad at the USMP's failure to manifest and also the internet was really turning against Dream. CCs in general didn't want to associate with him. Partially the allegations, but also he is a difficult CC to work with and Tommy was likely very aware having organised big videos and vlogs himself.

Dream was shocked by this video. He felt betrayed at Tommy and thought Tommy was being two-faced. Being sweet in private but milking him for views in public. So he became antagonistic towards Tommy.

At this point, Dream sent a DM to Tommy's mother complaining about him. Yeah.

Seeing Dream's crazy responses and also facing more wake-up calls about his teenage years with hindsight and the Wilbur situation, yeah Tommy was very happy to cut ties with Dream.

He didn't make a huge deal about it but he stopped making content with him and he and his friends would sometimes joke about him negatively, sometimes on his podcast, sometimes just jabs here and there. He and his community were both anti-Dream though he'd never made any public statements about it, or what happened. The history was fairly private.

Until now, Dream saw Tommy making fun of xQc and decided to lash out at him and his fanbase and air out every issue he's had over the last few years. Tommy responded, and made it very clear he's blocked Dream and they're done.

[dollfacefantasy]

SNOW ON THE GLASS ♡

pairing: dilf!leon kennedy x fem!reader x milf!ada wong

summary: you love your job as the kennedys nanny. it's fairly easy and pays great. plus you may have a tiny crush on your bosses. but as it turns out, they may reciprocate that feeling more than you know.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, mild dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), daddy kink, mommy kink, intoxication/intox kink, breeding kink, praise kink, age gap (late 30s, early 20s)

a/n: birthday gift for my wonderful bestie @explorevenus!! i love you so so much <3 also also also, imagine them both at their re6 ages, i just couldn't find any pics of re6 ada i liked sue me 😔

Little white flakes of snow landed one after another on the clear pane of glass in front of your face. You chewed your bottom lip while watching the flurries compile on the window, and in-turn, your car parked in the driveway.

Behind you, a pair of sharp heels clacked against the tile floor as the owner of said driveway returned to the room. Ada stepped through the archway and down the half-step to approach you by the front door. Laying a gentle hand on your shoulder, she smiled when you turned to look at her.

“Here’s your check, sweetheart,” she said, bringing a small rectangular paper to brush against your fingertips.

“Thank you,” you replied as you took it from her. Your eyes immediately made their way back to the storm outside that grew worse by the second.

She followed your gaze, her palm staying in place on your shoulder. Unlike you, Ada’s face remained composed. She wasn’t worried in the slightest. She’d known this storm was coming. It was an integral part of her plan for tonight.

But despite her internal calmness, she furrowed her dark brows and injected some worry into her tone.

“It’s getting bad out there. That snow is just piling up,” she proclaimed, “There’s no way you should be driving in weather like that.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Your thoughts had been reaching the same conclusion. You were just hesitant to voice them because after a long day of work, you yearned for the comfort of your apartment. It was finally the weekend, and your plush bed and soft sheets called to you. You’d been dreaming of the quiet between those walls all day. The privacy to do whatever you wanted that you didn’t have when you were here for most hours of the week. 

Make no mistake, you loved your job as the Kennedys full-time nanny, but regardless of your enjoyment, it was still work that required a lot of attention and labor. Their daughter was the sweetest child you’d ever met; however, carting her to and from dance class and kindergarten along with making her food, playing with her, and putting her down for naps piled up on you.

“Maybe if I leave now, I can make it…” you thought aloud.

“Oh please. Honey, you live across town. You’d have to take the highway, and people drive crazy as is. I should know, my husband is one of them,” she joked.

Your brows raised at the mention of Leon. You hadn’t even thought about how your other employer would get home tonight. You looked over your shoulder at her again. “Do you think he’ll be ok? It’s coming down really hard out there,” you said.

“Oh he’ll be fine,” she waved off, “His friend is giving him a ride home tonight. I’m sure they’ll make it in one piece.”

Releasing a small breath of relief, you nodded again.

“It’s really no problem if you stay,” she continued, “We have the guest room all set up. It has a bathroom attached, so you’d have total privacy. And I wouldn’t make you watch Christina or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh no,” you reassured, “It’s not that, don’t worry. I just don’t want to be a burden on you and Mr. Kennedy.”

“You’re never a burden on us. With all you do for Christina, you’re practically part of the family. I wouldn’t want you driving off and getting into an accident just because you didn’t want to impose. I’m sure you know that we have more than enough space in this house,” she said and ran her hand over your bicep down to your wrist. Her manicured nails scraped over your skin, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You felt a simmer of heat in your chest upon hearing those kind words coming from her painted lips. That combined with the teasing touch had your heart pumping a little faster in your chest. It was something you rarely thought about, but maybe, just maybe, a tiny part of why you enjoyed this job so much was because both of your employers looked like reoccuring stars in people’s wet dreams all over the world.

“Thank you. I would really appreciate it,” you answered, your prior trepidation dissolving under the heat of her gaze. You slid your check into your purse and then placed the bag back down on the end table by the door.

She smirked, though she tried to make it appear as an earnest smile. Of course, Ada sensed the little crush you had on her and her husband. It wasn’t hard to tell given the way you preened in the face of the slightest of compliments or gave them the look a puppy would give its owner whenever they praised you for your hard work.

“Great,” she said, “Come with me. I’ll put on some dinner. We’ll get you fed and then I’ll show you to your room and be out of your hair for the night.”

Her slender fingers clasped around your hand, guiding you back through that archway and towards the kitchen. The two of you passed by a few family portraits and expensive paintings before reaching your destination - the luxurious kitchen that probably held a value higher than all the money you’d made in your life.

You could fit about six of your kitchens in this one. That would be another nice thing about staying here for the night, getting to use the high end items they had stocked rather than the odds and ends you owned.

She led you across the gray marble floors over to the spacious island, all but sitting you down on one of the stools.

“You just relax for a few minutes, and I’ll work on the food,” she said.

You took your seat, not willing to protest her hospitality further. Your eyes scanned around the kitchen you’d become so familiar with over the last year. She walked into the pantry for a couple seconds, returning with a box and some small containers before setting them on the counter.

“You like pasta?” she asked.

“Who doesn’t?” you responded.

She let out a small laugh at that. “No wonder Leon likes you so much. A girl after his own heart.”

Your heart fluttered at the idea that Mr. Kennedy liked you. Before hearing that, you didn’t suspect he had any problems with you. In fact, he let you know all the time that he was pleased with your performance and couldn’t ask for anyone better to take care of Christina. But appreciating you and liking you were two separate things, the latter of which gave you that warm feeling in your stomach.

In the corner of the counters, Ada bent down to grab a pot. Your eyes went with her, dragging along her figure to where her form-fitting black slacks covered the swell of her ass. As soon as you realized you were staring, you averted your gaze. You pushed out any further thoughts about how her red blouse was probably unbuttoned at the top, allowing a clear view of her breasts down the front of the shirt.

She stood back up with the pot in hand and filled it with some water. Tapping the electric stove to life, she put it on to boil. You watched as she poured some oil in the water and then grabbed a pan to put on for what you assumed would be the sauce.

With both pieces heating up, she moved to the cabinets up above. She reached for the one next to the section that held all of Christina’s dishes, her sippy cups and princess plates. The cupboard you took from most of the time you were here.

Instead of grabbing a Little Mermaid themed piece of tupperware, her hand retrieved two wine glasses. She spun around to face you and brought the fragile items over to the island. After placing them in front of you, she stepped into a nearby alcove, the place you knew they kept all the liquor.

She came back with a nice bottle, something more rich than you’d ever drink on your own. Popping it open, she went to pour, but you interrupted.

“I don’t really need any,” you said with a timid smile.

While you weren’t a prude about drinking under other circumstances, Ada was still your boss. Being under any kind of influence around her held a risk you didn’t find worth taking.

She just smirked at you though, not making any effort to conceal it this time.

“C’mon, loosen up a bit,” she coaxed, “You’re not on the clock. You’ve been working all week, even later today since I was late. Take it as my apology.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You paid me for the overtime,” you replied.

“Still. Keeping you longer than expected on short notice is inconsiderate,” she said. 

She rounded the counter with the bottle and your glass in hand. Upon reaching you, she set the glass down directly in front of you with the bottle beside it. The proximity left no room for hesitation. One of her hands came up, brushing across the back of your neck to rest on your shoulder like it had earlier.

“You’re not saying no because you think this is some sort of test, do you? Because I wouldn’t bother with something like that, sweetheart. I was young once too,” she told you. You swore she was leaning in closer as her voice became more of a purr next to your ear, but you didn’t dare look. “I know how good a drink can feel after a long week. You’re human. My husband and I don’t expect you to be a child-friendly saint even when you’re not working,” she continued.

Her fingers rubbed miniscule circles on the cloth of your top. You still didn’t think it was the best idea to drink around your boss, but Ada had never given you a reason not to trust her. It was quite the opposite. Most days, the Kennedys seemed too good to be true.

You knew they were human. Occasionally while speaking to you, they’d slip in a jab about the other or allude to some sort of marital problem that sprouted up after years of being together. They’d make mistakes like coming home late or forgetting to tell you that Christina’s dance lesson had been canceled until you were already on the way there.

But when it came to their relationships with you, they were absolute dreams. They gave you expensive gifts for your birthday and Christmas. Paid you above what was the standard for nannies in this area. Talked to you like someone they were interested in rather than a person they were forced to interact with. And hell, now they were offering up their home to you when you needed it.

“Alright. If it’s ok with you,” you agreed.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said and tilted the bottle towards your glass.

Deep red liquid spilled into the curved dish. She wasn’t shy with how much she gave you, that was for sure. You could already smell that heady aroma swirling around the air.

“You can have as much as you’d like. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, we want you to feel at home here with us,” she said.

Before she walked away, her hand swept down your back, stroking it with a domineering, almost maternal sort of affection. It sent another round of chills through your body. You reached for the wine glass and gripped the stem hard. It was probably for the best that she and her husband weren’t actually around for most of your work here if this was how you reacted to a simple touch.

You brought the glass to your lips and sipped some of the liquid as she poured her own. After taking down some of the drink to numb your responsive nerves, you set it down again. You didn’t want to over-indulge.

“I really do feel at home here. I wasn’t saying no because I’m not comfortable with you. I just really care about what you and Mr. Kennedy think of me. I wouldn’t want you thinking you hired someone irresponsible to watch over your daughter,” you explained. What was left unspoken was that you didn’t want either of them thinking you were trashy in your own right either.

She nodded and stirred the bubbling sauce on the stove. She had to stop herself from saying I know. “That’s good. But you don’t need to worry so much. Both me and my husband think very highly of you,” she said instead.

A rush coursed through you upon hearing that. You smiled and raised your glass again, ingesting some more of the intoxicating liquid.

She watched out of the corner of her eye. It was a struggle to keep quiet and not fawn over how adorable you looked when you got all giddy. She kept her attention on dinner though, adding the noodles when the water reached a boil and spicing the sauce.

There was nothing she needed to say right now. She’d just be quiet and let you nurse that drink. It wasn’t that she needed the alcohol for what she wanted to do tonight. She could probably seduce you right now without much effort if she so desired. But tonight had been well-planned out, and for all the effort she put into it, she was gonna get everything she wanted out of it.

Ada had wanted you since the day they hired you. She could still remember the cute little outfit you wore on that Sunday you showed up for your interview. A nice plaid skirt with a dark sweater up top. Objectively modest but still attractive enough to garner attention. You’d been so polite, sitting with your ankles crossed and perfect posture. She could tell you were fighting off nerves with each answer you gave her and Leon. You were only the second candidate they’d met with, but Ada dismissed any other option before you’d even said your goodbyes.

That craving for you only became more intense over the last month or so. She’d had enough of coming home to you passed out on the couch, all sprawled out and vulnerable but not being able to take advantage. She was sick of only feeling grazes of the silken nature of your skin as she caught you before and after your shift.

That was why she calculated everything for tonight down to the minute. It would go off without a hitch. This wasn’t one of Leon’s missions that stumbled along and almost collapsed at multiple points before barely reaching the correct target. No, she’d thought this through.

By the end of the night, she would have you in the palms of her and Leon’s hands. She’d known this snow storm was coming, and she’d intentionally stayed a little later at work so that she’d be home by the time it was already raging outside and you’d put Christina to bed. She’d have the guest room for you, but you wouldn’t have any of your own belongings, which meant she’d have chances to lure you into her territory. She’d get you all peaceful and pliant by giving you a nice dinner and a fair amount of drinks. Everything would play out just like she intended it to.

She longed to see you at a baser state without any of your usual modesty impeding on your desires. She wanted you all giggling and cute, falling into her arms and spreading your legs without even being asked. You would love it. She just had to show you that.

She hummed to herself at a low volume while finishing up the food. Combining the curled pasta with the creamy sauce, she scooped two helpings onto each plate and made her way over to you with the dishes.

The two of you sat at the island, eating and drinking and talking. The conversation started on Christina but moved around to your personal life and her job among other subjects. She made sure to top off your wine whenever it got close to being empty.

“I know this job must keep you pretty busy, but do you do anything outside of it?” she eventually asked, “Maybe school or some other interests taking up your time?”

“Um… well,” you answered, “I tried out school for a while, and it wasn’t really the best fit for me… I messed around with some other things, and you know how that goes.”

A little laugh slipped from your lips. Your words were definitely more free-flowing than usual.

“Well there’s nothing wrong with taking things day by day,” she replied with a warm smile. She took a sip of her own drink before continuing her point. “You’re still young. You could stumble on something you don’t even know about right now.”

“Exactly!” you responded, all too excited to have someone agree with you, “That’s exactly how I feel. Like you know, this job. I feel like I won the lottery with you guys most days I’m here.”

“That makes me so happy to hear,” she said.

“It’s the truth. Ugh, the kids I babysat in high school were nightmares. And their parents barely paid me anything. I wasn’t even allowed to eat the food at the house. It was horrible. But you guys, you’re perfect I swear. Christina is so sweet and funny and smart. And this house is great. And you and Mr. Kennedy, you two… you’re like dreams,” you rambled.

“Really?” she asked with mild amusement. She set her drink down and leaned forward on her forearms.

The way your eyes widened and your lips parted, you looked like a little fish upon realizing how your last statement sounded. “I just mean you guys are like so great to work for. My favorite job I’ve ever had for sure,” you added.

She reached out, laying her smooth hand on your wrist. “That’s so sweet of you, honey. You’re great to have around too. Much better than our last nanny,” she said, “She always had some complaint about something, and her hours never ended up being consistent. Plus, she wasn’t as cute as you.”

The statement struck you like a bolt of lightning. You were sure your eyes widened to the size of gold medals. Heat oozed up from your chest into your face. This honestly felt like a dream. In reality, you were supposed to think your boss was hot. You were supposed to thirst after them, pine for moments of reciprocation that would never actually happen. But one just did.

“Oh, thank you,” you shrugged, an involuntary smile pulling at your mouth.

A low, knowing laugh echoed from her without her lips ever breaking that calculated smile. Ada’s rich eyes stayed on yours, not letting you get a reprieve from eye contact that lasted longer than a handful of seconds. Her fingertips massaged little circles onto your wrist as you spoke. The light touches felt like the tips of sparklers against your skin. Each one sent tingling warmth up your arm down to your belly.

“Oh come on, don’t look so nervous,” she said, “You must get compliments like that all the time. You’re a very pretty girl.”

Again, you shrugged. “I guess,” you answered. The weight of her attention pressed on you, causing your gaze to lower to your lap.

She didn’t let you get away though. One of her hands ventured up to cup your jaw and pull your face upright. Her fingers lingered there as she stared at you. The curled, the flat backs of her knuckles smoothing across your cheek.

“Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” she asked.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. You shook your head no.

She hummed in response. Her fingers continued exploring the expanse of your cheek before dropping to lie on your shoulder.

“That’s good. No need to tie yourself to one person at your age. Though you do deserve someone to take care of you,” she said.

That dull heat in your stomach had long outgrown something so mild. It festered into full arousal by this point, a need hot and pulsating between your thighs. You bit your lip. It was all you could do to keep yourself from squirming in an attempt to grind on the stool.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, though the tone of your voice alone called the truth of that claim into question.

She laughed softly, the sound light and condescending. Her hand glided back and forth along your shoulder in short strokes.

“I’m sure you can, sweet girl. But you shouldn’t have to. You spend all week caring for someone else. You deserve to relax in your free time and have someone take over,” she said.

A visible shiver ran through you. Your teeth dug into the inside of your lip harder as you looked at her now.

“That does sound kind of nice,” you agreed.

She nodded along and brought her hand back to your face. One set of her nails lightly scraped along the frame of it, trailing down after to stroke your jaw. The sensation was enough to make your eyes flutter and send another small burst of desire through you.

“Of course it does,” she said, “You work so hard. You shouldn’t have to go home and cook or do dishes or laundry. You’re probably so tired by the time you get there.”

A hazy sigh puffed out from your mouth. “Yeah sometimes,” you confirmed.

“Mhm. Poor baby,” she cooed, “Someone should be there, letting you rest, doting on you like the precious thing you are.”

Now you felt as though you were glowing. Your breaths came in deep, lifting your chest up and down with each breath. A lazy, blissful smile sat on your features as your dreamy gaze fixated on her. Everything really was starting to feel like a dream. If you weren’t so captivated, you might have tried pinching yourself.

She chuckled at the expression before standing up. Her palms swept down to your shoulders again.

“You look tired, honey. We should probably get you some clothes to sleep in and then send you off to bed,” she said.

“Sounds good to me,” you said and started to rise from the stool yourself.

“Perfect. Just finish this off for me, sweetheart,” she said and lifted your glass to your hand again. It was nearly empty, but it couldn’t hurt having you drink a few drops more.

Denying her didn’t even occur to you in this condition. You brought the drink to your lips and swallowed the remainder while she cleared the counter of other dishes. 

In the blink of an eye, she was back at your side. One of her arms slipped around your waist while the other held your shoulder.

“Good girl,” she praised, “Come with me.”

Again, you followed the order without a trace of resistance. You walked alongside her down the path you had come. This time around you leaned into her for support. Your head felt cloudy. A sense of dizziness pervaded every movement you made. She watched with pure satisfaction as she led you to the hall.

“There you go. We’re almost there,” she cooed as if you didn’t know the layout of the house.

You passed the front door and turned into the area that held the doors to one of the bathrooms and the office space. At the end of the small corridor, she opened up the double doors that led into her and Leon’s room. Despite being here five days a week, you rarely ever went in here. You could use one hand to count the number of occasions in which you ever needed to cross this threshold.

The decor was much darker than the rest of the house. Shades of gray morphed into dark black in here. Obsidian drapes framed the window, separated at the moment to let the moon shine through. All the furniture was crafted in deep tones of wood. The rug sprawled across the floor was nearly pitch black, spare the thin red designs sewn throughout.

You took it all in as if it was brand new to you. She paid your curiosity no mind and sat you down on the edge of her bed.

“Stay here for me. I’ll go find you something that fits you,” she said, running her hand over your head as if you were a prized pet.

You obeyed like one, not moving as she stepped away and into the walk in closet in the corner of the room. Your palms spread out on the bedding. The plush comforter tickled your fingers. It had to be one of the softest things you’d ever felt. Much different than the ratty old throw blankets you had on your bed back home.

A sigh seeped from your lips, and you found yourself laying back against the luxurious surface. You spread your arms out as though you were making angel wings in the snow outside. What would it be like to come home to this every night? To work hard all day and then be able to really relax in a place like this? To unwind with each one of your bosses at your side tending to you?

As these thoughts danced through your mind, you felt a hand grasp your thigh. You popped your head up to find Ada before you again, a couple pieces of clothing draped over her arm.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” she teased.

“I wasn’t. Sorry. Your bed is just like really comfy,” you said with a small giggle as you sat up.

“Isn’t it? We just got this one last year. Leon loved our old one, but I just find this one so much easier to sink into,” she agreed.

“Mhm. For sure,” you said, nodding your head up and down with too much enthusiasm for the subject.

That didn’t matter though. Ada didn’t think she could find one thing wrong with you right now if she tried. Beside you, she laid out the few things she’d taken from the closet.

“I wasn’t really sure what type of clothes you liked to sleep in or what you would fit so I brought a few for you to choose from,” she said.

With a gentle hand, she directed your attention to the outfits on the mattress. There were two, and they looked like night and day. Two opposites with no neutral middle. 

The one on the left consisted of a small black camisole, one that had to belong to Ada. A pair of silky, navy blue shorts sat with them, another find from her side of the wardrobe. Next to those two was a large gray sweatshirt and some flannel pajama pants, probably her husband’s if you had to guess.

Your eyes lingered on each. It appeared as though you were taking your time to decide, but really you just couldn’t stop trying to picture the clothing on their owners’ bodies. You imagined Ada’s soft curves covered by the thin cloth, her smooth thighs emerging from the shiny fabric of the shorts. Images of Leon flickered in your head too, the sleeves of that shirt rolled up to his elbows and leaving his forearms exposed. The plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips and giving you a nice view of his v-line.

While you stared at your options, she angled herself behind you, lifting one knee onto the bed. Her hands landed upon your shoulders to gently massage.

“Pick whatever you want. It’s totally up to you. You can take one or the other or combine the two. Maybe layer a bit since it’s so cold,” she whispered. She had leaned in right next to your ear. Her lips brushed your skin with every word.

It took everything you had not to whimper for more from her. Under normal circumstances, you would be squirming out of your skin, stuttering and awkwardly trying to justify her affection for you. But right now, you leaned back into it, letting the warmth flow through you.

She smiled and snaked her arms around your body, holding you tight against her. “I’ll have to buy you some clothes to keep here in case this ever happens again. We’ll keep a cute little wardrobe for you in the guest room, so you can stay whenever you like,” she added.

That pulled another giggle out of you along with growing the lazy smile on your face. “I’ll take both of these,” you finally decided and pulled the two tops toward yourself. You messily bundled both pieces into your lap.

“Great. But you still need some pants, sweetheart,” she teased.

“But I don’t like sleeping in pants,” you said and looked up at her with earnest eyes.

She reveled in your thoughtless confession but played it cool. “Are you sure? The bed upstairs has a lot of blankets and the heat should be on, but I wouldn’t want you getting cold,” she offered.

You shook your head. “I’ll be ok, but thank you,” you answered.

Standing up, you swayed on your feet a little. She rose from the bed herself and moved the rejected pairs of pants to the dresser nearby. When she turned to you and caught the wobbly nature of your stance, she moved in like a viper through tall grass and grabbed you by the elbow.

“Why don’t you just change in here? You know that way if you don’t like anything you won’t have to stumble up and down the stairs. Plus you can just leave your clothes here, and I’ll put them in the wash in the morning,” she said, making the offer as if it was based on a genuine desire to help you.

You blinked at her. “Like… change in here? In the bedroom?” you checked.

She nodded, her fingers gliding up your arm. “Mhm. We’re both girls, honey. No need to be shy. I’ll even turn around if you want me to,” she said in a way that somehow soothed you and set your whole body on fire.

You felt like a fireworks show was going off in your stomach. The adrenaline rushing through your veins made you light-headed, and the wine probably didn’t help. You couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

“Alright,” you agreed with a heavy breath.

“Good girl,” she praised with a squeeze to your shoulder.

You felt your clit throb between your legs. At this point, you knew you’d probably have to rub one out as soon as you reached the privacy of the guest room.

Turning around, you dropped the two shirts back on the bed. Without much hesitation, you started to undress. Your shirt was first to go. You tucked your fingers beneath the hem and peeled it off.

Ada’s gaze focused completely on you as she saw the soft skin of your back completely exposed. This was the most important part of the night. If she messed up here, all of it would have been for nothing. She hadn’t planned out every minute movement she would make, but she could think on her feet. This would work.

She headed over near the closet entrance again but didn’t venture inside. She stood right outside in front of the full length mirror, a seemingly reasonable position where she was sure you’d be able to see her if you turned around.

Bending down, she unbuckled her heels and then kicked them to the side. She undid her slacks next and shimmied them off to pool around her ankles.

You heard the rustling of the fabric and the clicks of unfastening. It didn’t register in your mind what they would be coming from until you glanced over your shoulder and spotted her. Your jaw fell open while your eyes bulged from their sockets. You were pretty sure you stopped breathing in the middle of removing your bra.

She stood there as if nothing about this was odd. Her fingers worked on undoing the buttons on her blouse, parting the two sides and revealing a sliver of her skin. Her legs were already out in the open, all for your eyes to see.

In the reflection of the mirror in front of her, she caught your wide-eyed stare. She spun around to face you head on. She unhooked the last button. Her shirt fell open, allowing you to see her flesh from her navel to her collar bone. Underneath the blouse, she still had on a lacy bra and matching panties.

Not missing a beat, she just chuckled and walked closer. “Did you get stuck, honey? Need some help?” she asked.

She approached your frozen form and brought her hands to your shoulders where your bra straps sat. Using her nimble fingers, she guided the thin pieces down your arms. The entire garment fell away and dropped to the floor in front of you.

“There you go. Let mommy help you,” she whispered.

This time you actually couldn’t tell if the words were real or imagined. They’d been so hushed, so faint, but you would swear on anything that you felt them fan over your neck.

She moved to your jeans next, flicking the button open and tugging the zipper loose. The denim crumpled under the force of her hands shoving them down. You stepped out of each pant leg before she kicked them aside along with your bra.

Her hands came to rest on your hips for a moment before gliding up your sides. They smoothed over your curves like streams of warm water. You felt the gentle pressure move from your sides around to your tummy. She was only teasing you right now. Her touches felt good, but they didn’t explore anywhere that would give you true pleasure.

“You have such soft skin,” she cooed.

“Thank you,” you hummed, preening under her touch.

“So tender and pretty. Perfectly smooth,” she whispered.

You were already melting under her hands, but she knew she could go further. She ducked in and kissed your neck. You moaned at the feeling, at her hot mouth latching onto your skin. She laid a few more there after to follow.

“Mmm, so sweet too,” she hummed.

You whimpered and let your head fall back onto her shoulder, leaving more of your neck accessible to her lips. She took advantage. Leaning in, she licked a stripe over your pulse and followed the trail of saliva with a series of kisses. Her teeth scraped across the sensitive flesh.

“A-ada…” you sighed.

“I’m right here, sweet baby,” she purred, “Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

“I bet it does. You’re so sensitive, aren’t you? Jumping under every touch. I was like that at your age too,” she teased.

Her hands broke the little patterns they’d been tracing into your stomach to float upward. One by one they each landed on your breasts. Her palms cupped the mounds and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“You have such a gorgeous body,” she said as she nuzzled the space behind your ear, “You’re so shy. So precious. Running around my house like a skittish little puppy.”

No words of protest or denial made their way out of you. It felt good to bask in her attention, to know that she saw you as something so delicate.

“I think I’m starting to understand why though,” she teased.

Her fingers went to your pebbled nipples, pulling and tweaking the sensitive nubs. You mewled and squirmed in her grasp.

“Mommy,” you whined, not caring if she had actually been the one to say it first.

“Mhm. Look at you, already calling me mommy. You were thinking about this, weren’t you baby? You’ve been wanting mommy to take care of you?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, not being coy about it.

She grinned against your neck before turning you around. Once you could see her, she displayed a much more seductive expression. “Let mommy take care of you then,” she said.

With caring hands, she guided you onto the bed and laid you against a mountain of the pillows near the headboard. She crawled above you, looking down at you like a panther that had just caught its next meal.

“Let me have a taste of those lips. See if they're as soft as the rest of you,” she murmured before lowering herself.

She connected her mouth to yours. Her lips engulfed your own in a kiss, her tongue teasing you. You reciprocated. Your lips parted as you moaned, granting her access. She didn’t waste any time. Her breaths came out heavier as she focused herself entirely on you.

As her mouth worked on you above, her hands continued roaming your body below. She groped your hips and explored your thighs. You gasped softly at the mix of sensations, rolling your hips up against nothing.

“So impatient, baby,” she breathed as she pulled back, “You act like such a good girl all the time, but I bet that leaves you so desperate, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

She nodded and moved down to your neck again. Her mouth trailed over the skin with little pecks and soft sucks. The idea of leaving marks tempted her, but that could come later. She didn’t intend on this being her only time with you.

You felt her kisses migrate across your throat to your collarbone and down to the valley between your breasts. Her tongue played there for a moment, drawing out the moments before she would give you your first real taste of relief.

“Mommy, please,” you tried, eyes fluttering.

“So demanding,” she cooed. She moved her mouth to the right though and wrapped her lips around your nipple.

You arched your back off the bed and breathed out a whiny sigh. The tip of her tongue swirled around the bud. She laved at it, applying the perfect amount of pressure to get you squirming. Her hands massaged your waist in the meantime. She would make sure you felt good all over.

Your legs shifted around at the tingling building between your thighs. You craved some friction so badly, but she was still fixated on your chest. Her mouth released your nipple and planted one more kiss on it before she moved to the other and gave it the same treatment.

It got the same pleasured reaction out of you that only increased when one of her hands came up to toy with the sensitive peak that already experienced her mouth. You mewled without shame, digging her heels into the mattress.

She finally let it go as she had the other one, with a wet pop. Her eyes flitted up to you, taking in your breathless expression. After a couple seconds, she started kissing down your belly. She scooted herself down between your legs.

“You’re so needy,” she cooed, “No one’s taken care of you in so long. It’s left you aching.”

Her fingers ghosted over your thin panties, the ribbed fabric nowhere near as luxurious as hers. You watched her eyes follow her hands. The dark irises locked on your center. Her thumb traced the length of your cunt, grazing over your clit down to your leaking entrance. A nice wet patch began forming on the seat of your panties.

“That’s ok though. No one else could take care of you like mommy can. You’d be wasting your time.”

Your eyelids felt heavy as you watched her tug your panties off, drooping with the weight of your lust. You felt the cool air hit the glistening folds between your legs as soon as your lower half was free of the thin covering.

“So wet for me already,” she said, “That’s my good girl. Always so eager to please.”

She didn’t waste time teasing. Why would she? After months of coveting, she finally had you within her grasp, ready for the taking. She gripped your thighs and dove in, flattening her tongue against your soaked core. With a broad stroke, her tongue dragged over the slick flesh.

You mewled in response. A soft gasp accompanied the sound. She spotted your fingers gripping the bedding. So responsive from the simplest of touches. You were going to be fun.

She attacked your clit next. First, she treated it with little flicks of her tongue. Quick and repetitive, it stroked the tiny bud until you let out a pretty whine. She then latched her lips on, sucking on your pulsing bundle of nerves.

All the thoughts in your head melted away. The only thing you could do at this point was babble out a small collection of words including “mommy” and “please more.”

She got into it. All her focus trained on you. This was what she had been dreaming of for a year after all. Ever since she saw you in that little plaid skirt. She’d have to have you wear it again one of these days so she could eat you out under it.

Your thighs squeezed around her head as she lapped at your entrance. It felt good, a more dull kind of bliss than what she’d brought you before, but still good. She didn’t mind the pressure from your legs. Her nails dug into your tender flesh and kept you right in place to continue on with her task.

You trembled and twitched with the ecstasy coursing through you. Your eyes rolled back, your vision going out for a second. It felt as though your head was engulfed by drowsy clouds straight from the heavens. The few people you had been with before never made you feel like this.

Your head had lolled back for a moment in the throes of carnal pleasure. When your vision started to return, you brought it back up to look at her again. Only she didn’t catch your attention this time.

Instead your pupils landed on the shadowy figure at the double doors you had entered through.

You practically jumped out of your skin before you realized who it was. She felt you startle and briefly looked over her shoulder before returning her attention to your pussy. The person stepped forward, allowing moonlight to cast over their figure and show their face.

Leon.

“It sounds like you broke her already,” he said as he approached the bed. Making his way to your pair, he ended up standing beside you. His eyes scanned over your nude body, drinking in every inch of your figure.

“I told you I’d have her nice and warmed up by the time you came home,” she replied, shooting him a smile from the crux of your thighs.

Their words flew over your head. You couldn’t really hear them with how fast your heart was beating. God, how could you have been so stupid? You totally forgot about Leon until this very moment. Apparently, a few drinks was all it took to let your pussy take control. All you had been thinking about for the last half hour was how badly you wanted Ada, how beautiful she looked laying in front of you, devouring you whole. The fact that she was married with a husband completely slipped your mind.

“Mr. Kennedy, I’m so sorry. I- um- We just-” you stammered, incapable of coming up with any sort of defense for your actions.

But he didn’t look mad. He sat down beside your shoulder, gazing down at you with some sort of affection in his eyes.

“I think I’ve told you before that I prefer when you call me Leon, sweetheart,” he told you, petting your head.

Biting your lip, you leaned into the touch. Your eyes looked so sweet gazing up at him as you did. He felt his blood beginning to flow South in response. His hand continued stroking over your scalp before moving to your shoulder, feeling your soft skin beneath his fingers.

“She’s been such a good girl for mommy,” Ada praised from below before rubbing your clit rapidly with her middle and index finger. The quick motion drew a whiny moan from you, only adding to Leon’s arousal.

His eyes flicked between you and his wife. “You didn’t give her too much to drink, did you?” he asked.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “She only had a few. What do you take me for?”

“Well she looks a little out of it. I just thought I’d check. My mistake,” he said, rubbing your cheek with his thumb absentmindedly.

She laughed softly at that. “You know I’m good with my mouth, darling. I don’t need any help getting her to look like that.”

You whimpered as she reattached her mouth to your cunt. Turning your head, you squished your face against his thigh. Your hips bucked. You could feel your release building up, the urge to let go flourishing inside you. Your noises became more high pitched, more needy. He looked down at you with something resembling curiosity with a trace of adoration.

“That feel good, baby? Not too much for you?” he asked.

“N- no, feels- mmph! Feels good,” you choked out between labored breaths. The hand closer to him flew up to grab at his thigh. Your digits dug into the material of his pants as another whine erupted from you.

He swapped his leg for his hand, letting you squeeze his palm as hard as you wanted.

“That’s it. Good girl. Hold daddy’s hand. I’ve got you,” he hummed.

Ada let her hand take over again and brought her head up to watch the two of you.

“Are you close, honey?” she asked.

“Mhm,” you responded instantly.

“Good. I want you to cum for me, ok? Cum for mommy and daddy. We’re gonna get you all nice and wet before you take daddy’s cock,” she said with the sweetest smile on her face in contrast to her dirty words.

You jolted at the prospect. A sharp breath tore through you right before your orgasm did. Your body shook and convulsed, arching and rolling as if you were possessed. Vaguely, you could hear both of their voices. You couldn’t make out the exact words, but the tones were that of praise.

The world around you faded away as you came on her fingers. Your chest puffed up and down with heavy breaths, and your head went limp against Leon’s leg.

Moments later as you began to come down, you felt him shift your weight onto the pillows. His presence receded and more hushed words filled the room. You heard fabric crinkling and a belt hitting the floor.

The mattress dipped as he climbed back on. Your eyes cracked open in time to see him kneeling between your legs. His hands rested on your bent knees, fingers caressing your skin. 

Your eyes swept over one of the bodies you’d been imagining in recent months. You could see the few veins that marked his forearms and biceps. He was still muscular despite getting older, but he had begun to fill out a little with some softer flesh. Brown hair dusted the skin from his navel down to a thicker patch of it at the base of his cock.

Meanwhile, Ada landed by your side. You took a breath, and her scent overwhelmed you in place of Leon’s. Her curves pressed up against you. Your head rested against the cushion of her breasts while you could feel the smoothness of her belly against your arm.

She kissed the crown of your head, nestling her nose against your hair. “You ready for daddy, baby? I know he’s ready for you,” she whispered.

You nodded, watching Leon as he gave his cock a few tugs. His eyes remained soft even in the midst of his desire.

While Leon wasn’t the one who’d hatched this plan to get you here, that didn’t mean he was oblivious to your beauty. There was a reason he’d agreed to this in the first place. He’d become just as enamored with you in the same time his wife did. He couldn’t help it. Even though he knew it was such a cliche at his age, he couldn’t stop himself from lusting after the babysitter.

He was only human. It was only natural for his eyes to linger on your waist when you squatted down to say goodbye to his daughter. The flutter in his stomach when you hugged him from the side a few times was just a matter of instinct. It wasn’t his fault the sound of your laughter nearly had him drooling or that the sight of you carrying his child to the car made him weak in the knees.

At least that’s what he told himself. That it was just a harmless crush. Something he’d never act on or get to experience anywhere other than the little scenarios that played in his head while he jerked off in the shower.

But then he found out his wife had an interest in you too. Your name came up during an intimate moment of their own. Between kisses, Ada asked him what he thought of you. He had pulled back, confused by the sudden question (and slightly nervous that he’d have to discuss you while already half-hard).

“Uh… she’s good. Christina likes her. She’s sweet, responsible, hardworking. Little shy, but I’m sure that’s just when we’re around,” he’d shrugged.

“Not like that,” she’d rolled her eyes and leaned back in to kiss his neck, “What do you think of her? She’s young, pretty, looks at you like you hung the stars. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a little babysitter fantasy before, darling.”

At first he’d thought it was a test. He denied it, proclaiming that was wrong. He only had interest in his wife, and you were just trying to do your job. The fact that you were easy on the eyes meant nothing to him. He didn’t care about your sparkling eyes or soft lips or nice curves. He didn’t notice the sweet sound of your voice or any of your cute little mannerisms. Pffft. No way.

“That’s a shame. Because I think she’s beautiful. She’s just so sweet and cute, and she doesn’t even know. The only place she could look any better is lying between us. And you know she’d be so sensitive to every little touch. She’d whimper like a little puppy,” she whispered against his skin.

In that moment, all his guilt had zapped away. He groaned at her words, accepting them without hesitation. There was no jealousy on his end, absolutely no discomfort at the idea of his wife lusting for someone else. Not when that someone else was you.

Because it meant that he got to have you like he did right now, spread out before him all blissed out and pretty. He guided his length to your entrance and dragged the tip over your folds. It glided through your wetness, nudging your clit before falling back down.

“You sure you’re ready, princess?” he asked.

“Mhm. Pretty please,” you affirmed, natural puppy dog eyes on display.

“Look at you. So polite,” he mumbled.

He prodded the head at your entrance, popping it inside. For a few moments, that was all that entered you. He let you adjust to the intrusion and let himself get used to the vise-like clamp of your velvety walls. The few seconds were necessary if he didn’t want to humiliate himself by blowing his load in less than a minute.

After that time though, he began easing it inside of you inch by inch. You whined at the light stretch. Ada stroked your arm with one hand and caressed the swell of your breasts with the other.

“That’s right, honey. You’re taking him so well,” she crooned.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Leon grunted.

Ada grinned at that before looking at you again. “Are you squeezing daddy nice and tight? Showing him where to go?” she teased.

You moaned and nodded while Leon groaned and shut his eyes. Ada kissed your cheek as her husband bottomed out. Her hand fell to your stomach, rubbing over it. He leaned forward. His palm pressed down next to you on the mattress to keep his balance. He hovered above you, blue eyes looking down with lidded awe.

Pulling his hips back, he rocked them forward again right after. He dragged his pelvis away and then brought it right back, flush against your core. You whimpered with each movement. The satisfying slide sent warmth through you each time.

“Atta girl. Taking it so well, just like mommy said,” he mumbled.

Now he pumped his hips with more dedication. He increased his speed. Exploratory moves became deliberate strokes. Leon settled into a rhythm. He swiveled his hips and angled the way he pistoned them based on the little noises you’d make and the expressions that took over your face. He paid close attention to it all, wanting to learn what you liked, what made you feel good.

Ada continued moving her hands along your form. One moment she played with your nipples, the next she held your hips, after that she pulled your knees up further. It was dizzying trying to keep up.

“Our sweet girl,” she cooed in your ear, “Precious baby. Maybe this should be your new job. You’re good at your other one, but I think we’d like having you all to ourselves.”

Leon groaned again, his head hanging forward. Although the words had been directed at you, they had just as much of an effect on him.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby?” he asked, “Sitting around and looking pretty. Letting us spoil you like you deserve”

“You know she would. Do you even have to ask?” Ada said, “She’d love it. Spending the day kneeling between your legs while you work, using that mouth of hers whenever you want.”

“She could spend some with you too. Sit on your lap and let you play with her with one hand while typing with the other,”  he offered in return.

“And then one day, if she’s really good, maybe daddy will breed that cute little pussy and fuck a baby into her,” she whispered.

Leon’s hips snapped against you hard as you turned to eye her. The words broke you out of the spell his cock had you under before.

“What?” you asked.

She chuckled and cupped your jaw, giving you a patronizing kiss.

“What, sweetheart? You’d like that wouldn’t you? It’d make mommy and daddy so happy, you giving us another baby,” she said.

Your head spun at the idea. You blinked and sputtered. In your right, rational mind, you’d put a pause to this. But with a few drinks in you and one orgasm already under your belt, the idea didn’t sound all too bad. It’s not like you were gonna sign a contract or something. They weren’t even asking you to agree to anything right now. But just imagining it…

“You’d look so pretty, babydoll. Your hips all rounded out, all those curves nice and full, that cute stomach swollen with our baby,” Leon sighed.

Imagining it was in fact fun you decided. Your pussy clenched around him again before relaxing. You heard Ada moan softly beside you. Glancing over, you could see her fingers moving beneath her panties, working herself to the edge alongside you.

“You’d love it, honey. You’re made for it. And we’d take such good care of you, make sure you had everything you could want,” he added.

“Mmmm… daddy,” you babbled, unable to voice the full extent of your enthusiasm.

“Uh huh. Daddy’s right here. I’m gonna fill you up. You’re first little taste, yeah? I’ll get you nice and full so you know how it feels,” he moaned.

His bicep flexed as he continued to pound into you. Over and over, he slammed into your cunt. Ada continued moaning beside your ear. Her own noises were growing more desperate. You could feel her hips rocking up to meet her own touch.

“Daddy gonna- gonna- ah- gonna cum,” you whimpered.

“Go ahead, pumpkin,” he grunted, “Cum for daddy. Let me see my pretty girl let go.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You let release wash over you in a smooth wave. Your body writhed and twitched below his. You squirmed atop the blankets, letting your muscles melt into the plush comfort of them.

Next to you, Ada reached the high too. Watching you fall apart was the final straw in her own resolve. She bucked her hips and nuzzled into your throat while crumbling under the bliss of release.

Leon was the last one to join the club. He fucked you through your euphoria while approaching his own. When he finally hit it, a strangled moan burst from him. He fell forward against you, burying his face in the side of your neck not occupied by his wife. His hands gripped your hips and held them in place as he rolled his pelvis against your ass like a dog in heat. He fucked rope after rope of hot cum into you.

By the time he pulled out, you were nice and full just like he said you would be.

You were also undeniably sleepy. Your eyes were all but shut, and your body was curling up as though you were ready for a nap.

He stretched his arm out and pulled you against his side to rest. His other hand rubbed down your body, tenderly coasting over your soft skin.

“Such a good girl for us. You were so good,” he murmured, “Our sweet baby.”

Ada scooted near your back, her hand joining Leon’s in soothing you.

“Don’t keep her all to yourself,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes. “You had her to yourself hours before I got here,” he dismissed.

She smirked and pecked his lips before looking down at you. Leaning in, she nuzzled your ear. “Sleep now, baby. You need the rest. Daddy will carry you to bed in a little bit,” she whispered.

Like before, you didn’t need any convincing. Your muscles relaxed as they got comfortable and pulled the blankets into place. You let yourself drift off between their two bodies while the storm raged on outside. Your mind slipped into dreamland, letting reality melt away for a little while.

[theocxcanonweek]

OC x CANON WEEK 2025! LET'S GO!!

PROMPTS

Day 1. Kiss in the rain/snow Day 2. Intertwined fingers Day 3. Kiss during a sunrise/sunset Day 4. Brushing hair out of the others’ face Day 5. Kiss beneath/amongst the stars Day 6. Hug from behind Day 7. Kiss within foliage/a cityscape Bonus Day: Wiping away tears

DIALOGUE

Day 1. “Promise me!” Day 2. “So, are we official then?” Day 3. “Oooh. You’re so in love with me!” Day 4.“I never imagined I could feel this way…” Day 5. “Take my hand.” Day 6. “Jealous much?” Day 7. “I’d burn the world for you.” Bonus Day; “It was always you!… Always has been. Always will be.”

FASHION

Day 1. Pastels / Monochromatic Day 2. Practical / Avant Garde Day 3. Nautical / Wild West Day 4. Plaid / Sequence Day 5. Steampunk / Cyberpunk Day 6. Floral / Animal Print Day 7. Leather / Lace Bonus Day: Jewels / Chains

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RULES 1. This is a safe for work (SFW) event. We will only be promoting work that is safe for public viewing.

2. Tag us @theocxcanonweek and/or use the hashtag #oc x canon week!

3. Mention which day and prompt(s) you've used, as well as the canonical character(s) involved!

4. You don't have to use all prompts for each day, but you can interpret the prompts however you choose!

5. Even though it's called "OC x Canon Week," self-inserts and personas are also allowed!

6. Anyone and everyone can participate!

7. You can complete this challenge at any date. There is no need to participate every day, and you can do as many or little prompts you want. However, we will only be promoting for this challenge the week of March 17th, 2025.

8. Last of all, have fun! <3

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FAQ

"Do I have to do a prompt from each of the categories listed?"

You can do as many or as little as you like! So, if you wanna do one of each of the categories go right ahead! If you only want to do one in total, that's fine too! No stress here! 💖

"Are polyamorous ships allowed?"

Yup! As long as an oc/insert/persona is included in the ship with canon character(s) then it is welcomed! 💖

"I see OC x Canon Week is on both Tumblr and Twitter. Do I have to participate on both platforms? Or can I just stick to one?"

You can choose whichever platform you prefer to particpate on. You do not have to particpate on both. (However you are welcome to if you so please!~) 💖

"I like this days prompt with another days prompt. Is it alright to mix and match them?"

Yes!! You absolutely are welcome to mixing and matching prompts! The event is about having fun, so pick and choose as you please~ 💖

"I want to create multiple works for one prompt! Is that okay?"

Absolutely!! If you have the ability and engery to do so, then more power to ya!! ✨ We will take as many pieces as you can churn out! (But there is no pressure of course~💖)

"Can I participate with a familial/platontic oc x canon ship?"

While the event does cater to romantic intent, non-romantic ships are welcome to participate as well! 💖

"I found out about the event late!! Can I still participate and submit my work after the event is over?"

Yes! While the event runs for a “week”, there really are no set rules as to when you can participate. It’s all about having fun and spreading awareness for OC x Canon enjoyers!!

The blog will not be as active after the event is over , but I’ll still check in every once in a while to like and reblog what I can. (: Remember to us the hashtag # oc x canon week and tag the account so your work is seen!

"Have you considered running OC x Canon Week on other platforms, like Bluesky, A03, etc?..."

I have but truthfully it's already a huge workload managing the event on both Tumblr and Twitter by myself. If I were to bring it to other platfroms, I would definitely need some assistance. At this point, it's TBD...

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Thank you for reading and happy planning!! 💕💕💕

[nerissamaes]

TW: drug use/overdose

The first girl I loved in a way I now know is irrevocably queer died of a heroin overdose. When we still knew each, we stole moments in the hallway, and over text, always dancing on the line of a relationship that felt like a death wish. Both of our parents were homophobic, abusive , and the few queer friendly teachers at our high school were so overloaded with students who needed support, and with less than vague threats from admin, that even if there was support for us theoretically, there really wasn’t in practice. I don’t think either of us really knew how we felt, not really, but we would share music, quiz each other on science facts, and talk about our favorite things. She would always tell me she was never smart enough to be my friend, but bio was her favorite subject, and she never misremembered any of the facts I read her out of my AP bio textbook. She loved rap music, and reading, she hated her job, and she had the most pretty smile, this little self satisfied smirk, every time we caught each other’s eyes across the lunch room, even though she’d dissolve into the biggest puddle of blush if she was even remotely close to me. She had two pet rats, she’d show them to me on calls a lot, and she loved them so, so much. Her friends weren’t supportive, they actively encouraged her relapses so matter how hard we worked on her staying clean, nothing ever stuck. They didn’t know about me. Her parents didn’t either.

She called me one night. Scared out of her mind. She knew as much as I loved her I didn’t like being around drugs, she tried so hard to keep them from me, but she had accidentally used too much. She was overdosing, at least on the verge, and she didn’t know who else to call. Her friends would write her off. I tried my hardest to talk her down, she tried her hardest to convince me it wouldn’t hurt to do just a little more. Nothing was working, I knew she could get like this but I’d never seen her this frantically wanting to use. I’ll never know why she was so upset that night. I didn’t know where she lived but I knew I had to do something so, oh so sickened by myself, I threaten to call an ambulance if she didn’t stop. She was so far gone she never noticed I didn’t know where she lived. She begged me not to because of what her family would do if they found out. Not just about the heroin, of course, but about me, too. I threatened until she stopped. I sat with her as she sobbed and begged for forgiveness while she came down. Of course I forgave her.

After we hung up, she never spoke with me again, too embarrassed and upset with herself for putting me in that situation, is my best guess, though I’ll never really know. About five years later, I found out from a mutual friend that she died suddenly, most likely an overdose. I had heard through him that she was in and out of rehab, that it didn’t seem to be working well but it seemed to be helping somewhat. Obviously not enough.

I tell this story here partially to have a space to remember her, but also because of the material conditions of our situation, and to describe what one of these moments felt like, especially to a child. She would most likely still be alive today if there was any infrastructure in my hometown to help gay kids in bad households. If queer kids weren’t the most hot button topic of small town Americana even when I was a kid, I could’ve said something to someone who could not only empathize, but have resources to help as well.

There exists a future where we could’ve loved each other in the open, and we both could’ve had genuine support for our respective addictions. But instead, my mom attends school board meetings with the intent of getting trans kids kicked out of schools, convinced there’s litter boxes in the bathrooms and GAC surgeons on hand in the nurse’s office, ready to operate at the littlest insecurity. Instead, a beautiful, wonderful woman is six feet under, needle in arm, having never gotten to say or hear I love you to another woman the way she wanted. Because dead queer kids are more palatable. Because when we’re addicts, with our dead queer friends hovering over our shoulders, it’s so much harder for us to find each other, to connect, to survive, let alone thrive.

I grew up in a world where the only good queer person is a dead one. I see glimpses of that world occasionally, whenever I end up back with my parents. But I also see her, in the bright eyes of every newly out queer kid I meet while TAing. I see her in the faces of the queer women in my life I’ve come to love with my whole heart. And so I suppose, from one effective queer elder who will always hold a bit of a queer kid who never got to be a queer adult with them like a kiss on my cheek, to every queer kid who might stumble upon this feeling the same way we felt in the moments of that overdose I just want to say:

I see you, I’m proud of you, and I know she would be too. Collect your stolen moments, your highest highs, your deepest loves, and hold them close, because the world that wants us dead can never truly take that from you, even if it takes some of us too soon. Those moments mean everything to us, not just us who actually experience them, but us as a whole community. Queerness is real, radiant, and beautiful and you deserve to have and hold that for yourself and with other queer people, no matter who we’ve lost along the way, so hopefully we don’t have to lose anyone else too soon eventually.

[natashashill]

been like this

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ mean, possessive, and possibly toxic nat in the beginning, mean sex (?), dacryphilia, panties as a gag?, spankings, verbal degradation, humiliation, pussy & ass spankings, fingering, strap sucking, strap fucking, hair pulling, choking, edging AND overstimulation, praise, slight breeding kink, & aftercare!! lmk if i forgot anything

a/n: this might have been a lil self indulgent but i also wrote this at 2am so bear w me pls <3

summary: you & natasha are exs, you just broke it off and she doesn’t like that, you both end up at the same bar

You found yourself at a local bar for the night, desperately needing to forget yourself and maybe her too.

You had finally called Natasha out on her bullshit after putting up with all the ghosting and flaking she had pulled on you. You cut things off with her and you’re hoping it stays permanent this time. You immediately make your way to the bar, and order a signature cocktail. You take a few sips while scanning around the bar, observing the few couples that came while the night was still early.

You were just about done scanning the room when you spotted her in the back, sitting in a booth by herself. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at her. Her flaming red hair was tied back while she wore a casual suit, and your gut tells you she came here straight after work. She sat staring at her drink, brows furrowed in tension with the slightest dark circles under her eyes, and your stomach dropped at the thought that you might have been the cause. You were pissed at her, but you never wanted to see her hurting.

Apparently, you had been staring at her for too long because when you snapped out of your thoughts, you caught her looking at you with a slight smirk on her face. She sent you a small wink before beckoning you over with a wag of her finger, and your feet started moving towards her on autopilot. You sat across from her, staring blankly waiting for Natasha to say something.

“Did you come here looking for a new girl tonight?”

Your jaw dropped at the bluntness of her question, “Jesus Nat. I- I don’t know. I wanted to have fun, if I found a girl who would treat me right, maybe I would go home with her. I didn’t plan anything.”

She scoffs at that.

“Well your dress certainly did. Your tits are practically spilling out of your chest. Do you even know how many people have been staring?”

You frown and attempt to cover your chest slightly, feeling self-conscious at the weight of her words.

“What? All of a sudden you’re shy, you had quite a lot to say to me the other night baby. What girl did you think was going to treat you right, because I know how you like to be treated. You say you want a sweet girl, but not really. You crave the way I make you feel when I’m rough don’t you, you love the way I treat you-”

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your mouth, despite your best efforts to stay unbothered by her. You couldn’t help but let her words affect you just the way she wanted them to. You fell right into her trap, and she has you right where she wants you.

“What baby? You want me to be soft on you, hmm? Spend all my time on you and forget about everything else I have to do? Are you that much of a needy slut baby? Knowing you, your panties are probably soaked by now, am I right?”

You weakly shook your head no, but you knew she was right, and so did she. She grabs your hand and yanks you up out of your seat.

“Come on baby, follow me. Let’s go see how much of a desperate slut you really are.”

“Nat, where are you going?”

“We are going to take a trip to the bathroom. If you didn’t just lie to me and you really aren’t wet, well then I’ll let you go. If I catch you lying, you’re in for a rough punishment before I take you home.”

You gulp and dumbly follow her, hoping she’ll go easy on you. But you know she never does.

The moment the door shuts behind you, she has you pressed up against. Her hands roughly push up your dress against your hips before pushing your lace panties to the side. She doesn’t even comment on the wetness before slapping your pussy twice, hard.

You let out a moan at that, and she guides you out of your soaked panties before stuffing it in your mouth. You let out another moan at the taste of you on your panties but it’s barely audible. Your cunt is clenching around nothing and the humiliation has some tears springing to your eyes and an attempt to close your thighs.

She quickly turns you around before spreading your legs apart and slotting her leg in the middle, giving you the perfect opportunity to grind against her with your hands on the door.

“I can’t even look at you right now. Go ahead slut, hump my thigh like the pathetic whore you are. If you even think about coming, I’m bending you over the sink and spanking your ass raw.”

You’re only getting wetter at her words, desperately humping her legs, hoping to get enough friction to ease your clit’s throbbing. Your legs start to shake, and she immediately takes a step back away from you. You’re left dripping while facing the door, attempting to catch your breath while fighting off tears.

You don’t get a break before she smacks your ass hard, and you let out a wanton moan at that. She smacks your other cheek harder at that, and you get the message to keep quiet. She starts spanking you in rapid succession, muttering about being her dirty little girl who doesn’t know any better. You can’t fight off the tears and by the end of her assault, your tears are quickly streaming down your face. Your legs are shaking with need and you can’t avoid the way your clit is throbbing.

You know she knows how sensitive you are by the way she presses a delicate kiss to your bruised cheek before gently turning you around and helping you redress.

“You took your punishment so well for me baby, let me take you home tonight.”

You nod, desperate for any attention she’ll give you right now. You let her guide you out of the bar and into the passenger seat of the car. She has her hand on your thigh the entire ride, and you just stare out the window, trying to process everything. You’re in her bedroom before you know it, naked and kneeling by the foot of her bed. You can see the wet patch on her suit pants that you left on her, and the sight has you clenching around nothing again.

She disappears into her closet, and your stomach drops at the realization of what’s in store for you. She comes back out, and you see a distinct bulge at her groin, and you lick your lips at the sight. All it takes is one look at her and you crawl your way towards her before stopping at her feet, hands eagerly making their way to unzip her pants and freeing her cock.

You waste no time before attempting to take her. Your lips wrap around her fake cock and you start bobbing your head, slowly taking more and more of her. She gave you two minutes to adjust before she gripped your hair and started using it to push you further down her cock. She started thrusting up until you and you let yourself be used by her. Her dick kept hitting the back of your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks with your makeup thoroughly ruined, and Natasha was obsessed. This is how she wanted you to be.

The sight of you mixed with how close she was made her thrust faster, ignoring how you gagged before she finally reached her peak. She stilled as she felt the aftershocks take over before gently pulling out.

She lightly cupped your face, letting you nuzzle against her hand while her thumb stroked your cheekbone, wiping some stray tears.

“What’s your color baby?”

“Green daddy”

“Alright then, get on the bed just how I like you. Daddy’s gonna fuck any thoughts you have about leaving out of your head. You’re mine, I don’t share.”

You quickly scurried on to the middle of the bed before positioning yourself onto all fours. She let you stay like that for a few seconds before climbing onto the bed and positioning herself behind you. She had a clear view of your dripping pussy, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers through your folds. She collected some of your wetness before bringing her finger to your mouth, slightly sucking on it before bringing it back to your cunt.

She quickly inserted her finger inside you before rapidly fucking you with it. She slipped it a second finger and enjoyed the way your shaky breaths filled up the entire bedroom. She let you get close to your peak, thighs shaking around her fingers before pulling away. She quickly hushed your whines, bringing her cock to drag along your folds and gently brushing against your throbbing clit.

She started with a harsh, unforgiving pace as she fucked you, and you knew just how mad she was. You couldn’t keep up with her thrusts, letting your arms give out and letting her use you as she pleased, your moans filling the room. She grabbed your hair and harshly yanked it back, allowing you to arch your back and allowing her to go deeper into you.

One arm snaked around to your throat before squeezing, while the other stayed in your hair. You could barely muster any thoughts in your head, only her name shining through the fog starting to form in your brain. Your mouth hung open and eyes shut while she pounded into you with no mercy.

“Look at you, how easy you’re taking me. You’re my precious little slut, aren’t you? You’re built for me baby, you fit so perfectly around my cock.”

You lightly nod, barely paying attention to what she says but hoping it pleases her.

“You’d say anything I tell you to right now, wouldn’t you?”

You let out a moan at that, and she lets your lack of an answer slide, her hand squeezing tighter around your throat.

“You’re getting close aren’t you. Well you’re gonna have to beg me to come sweetheart. You’re not off the hook just yet. Beg daddy to let you come, beg daddy to make you come. Oh, and promise me that you’re coming back to stay with me. You’re going to be my little slut, my precious girl that I come home to after work. Mine.”

“ ‘M yours daddy. I’m your girl to use, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me but please let me come. I’ll be your perfect toy to use.”

She lets out a moan at that before thrusting harder into you.

“Yeah? You’re gonna be my good girl. My precious slut who I get to fuck. It’s my pussy, isn't it, belongs to me. I get to decide whether you come, and it’s mine to touch and play with. Fuck, I’d want to breed this sweet cunt of yours. Watch all my cum drip out of your needy pussy before fucking it back into you. Letting you be my breeding dump while I constantly pump my cum into you.”

You scream out her name while clenching around her strap and she knows you're close. She squeezes your throat just a bit tighter while also going to rub circles against your clit. You let out a strangled scream at that and she doesn’t let up until you’re cumming around her. She doesn’t stop while you fall apart around her, she continues thrusting, building you back up towards your second orgasm.

“Give me one more baby, give me one more and you’re done. You’re such a good girl for me, my sweet girl. Fall apart for me baby.”

Her words give you what you need before you’re coming again. She gently stops thrusting while rubbing your back gently, giving you the space to adjust to the sudden change. She lets your breathing return to normal before removing her strap from inside you, and throwing it towards the bathroom. She crawls up towards the head of the bed, laying down against one of the pillows, before bringing you against her clothed chest. You let your tears run while you absent mindedly play with her shirt’s buttons. She presses gentle kisses to your head while murmuring just how good of a girl you are for her. She strokes your arm soothingly, waiting for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” you wail out, unable to control yourself. “I just wanted you to notice me. You never spent time with me anymore and I missed you. I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

“Oh my love, I’m so sorry sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you. I got so wrapped up in work, I didn’t realize I was neglecting you. I’ll do better, I promise.” At that you let out a small smile and nuzzle against her as you let yourself drift off. She gently shakes you off of her before getting both of you out of bed.

“Come on baby, let’s get you cleaned up. Let’s get in the shower and I promise we’ll fall asleep right after, baby.”

You reluctantly get into the shower, while Natasha cleans the strap and pulls out fresh sheets for the bed. She strips out of her work clothes, before changing into some boxers and a robe while grabbing a fresh pair of underwear you left at her house a while back. When she sees you exiting the bathroom, she hands you the underwear along with one of Natasha’s old shirts.

She guides you back into bed before bringing you against her chest, tucked in cozily under the blankets. You sigh happily against her, quickly falling asleep after being worn out from the night. Natasha stays awake for a bit longer, watching how peaceful you looked with her and vowing to never let you leave her again.

notes: i hope this was enjoyable to read <3 it just came to me in the middle of the night and i just had to write & post it

[bewaryofpity]

you are drunk. and when you’re drunk you get clingy, but quinn is at home and you’re out at some random bar in vancouver with your girlfriends, which also means that you’re whiny.

it isn’t even late yet, just past midnight, but three shots in and just as many drinks and you’re drunk enough to start rambling to your friends about how much you love quinn. he is such a caring and soft boyfriend, always makes you feel loved, doesn’t forget to kiss you goodbye when he leaves early in the morning and you’re still asleep, sends you flowers out of the blue but especially when he’s on long roadies. he’s the perfect boyfriend and the alcohol isn’t helping your cause because now you miss him too much to function and the worst part is that you can’t even tell him you love him.

“she’s so gone, should i call an uber?”

“i think you should call q-u-i-n-n.”

“why are you spelling quinn’s name?”

“oh quinn, he's so pretty.” you cry, not real tears, but you whine at the mention of his name. you’re not crying yet and that’s exactly what one of your girlfriends was trying to avoid. it isn't something that bothers them as much as they would like to because you and quinn are actually cute, seemingly stuck in your honeymoon phase forever, to this day pining on each other.

and your friends are harmlessly jealous of you. you look at each other like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. they saw it when they picked you up from your place earlier in the night and quinn came all the way downstairs to say goodbye to you and he kept on asking for one last kiss, you obviously giving in.

so to spare you from actually crying they called quinn, who was still awake despite having practice the next day because he knew well enough you were going to be needy at some point in the night.

and he giggles when he parks his car and looks at you, pouty and talking your friends’ ears off. you’re so beautiful he needs to take a moment before walking over to you and finally bringing you home. 

you don’t even realise quinn is standing beside you until your friends nudge you, interrupting your latest “he played so well yesterday, he looked so good too but he really needs to stop wearing that beanie because his hair is so pretty.”

“hi, baby.”

ideally, you could cry from how cozy and warm he looks in his big hoodie and sweatpants. it’s quite cold now, your choice of clothing not really ideal for this weather so you throw yourself at him to feel his warmth, finally able to love on him like you desperately craved all night.

“my baby is here!”

“let’s get you home, c’mon.” he blushes a little, teasing looks on your friends’ faces knowing he's still not keen on pda.

you don’t need him to tell you twice that you’re already jumping in the car and when he’s back in the driver’s seat you can’t help but bring him closer to you. quinn giggles as you start peppering his face with kisses, smacking sounds echoing in his ear. you’re a bit sloppy because you’re drunk but he’s drunk too — on your love, so he doesn’t mind at all.

and he doesn’t really mind how ridiculous he looks right now after catching his reflection in the rearview mirror. face full of lipstick prints, everywhere, some more defined than others, but they’re there and you look at him so proud of your work, your lipstick all smudged.

“happy?”

“mh mh, very, thank you so much.”

you give him one last peck on his lips before you sit back down in your seat, admiring the blush peeking on his cheeks and thinking of how lucky you are to kiss his pretty face everyday. 

you don’t stop there, once you’re both in the comfort of your own apartment, sitting on the bathroom counter after quinn insisted on taking your makeup off for you, you keep him between your legs so he doesn’t escape from more of your kisses.

“stop,” he lets out a breathy laugh, “the sooner i take off your makeup, the sooner we can get to bed.”

“but you’re so pretty.”

you know he’s right and you’re tired now, the remaining alcohol making you sleepy. but even after completing your night routine and lying in bed, you can’t help but wrap yourself around him like a koala, lazily pecking his back before falling asleep with a small smile on your face.

[isa-gh0st]

is there a rundown of what's going on with the new mcyt drama? i haven't been following any of them since slightly before the finale of dsmp 0-0

Oh god. Let me try my best here.

I will say, on my main, @isa-ghost, I've reblogged a ton of liveblogging stuff that kind of gives you context in detail? But in reverse order because, yknow, that's how reblog chronology works or whatever.

This don't stop the party edit is a good tldr of the beginning of it all but you gotta pause to really read it so I'm gonna summarize via bullet points too.

XQC (shitty Canadian Kick streamer, misogynist and flaunts his money at every turn) met Trump, wearing a Trump shirt. Is a fanboy of his clearly. Is not the first streamer to do this, esp on Kick

Tommy quote rts his pic of him meeting Trump like "its hard to be more cringe than TommyInnit but you did it"

XQC clapped back saying Tommy went from dickriding Dr*m to making jokes to 17 year old girls irl (which is sexist to say but I digress)

Dr*m gets involved for some fuckign reason (he wants attention that's why) and makes a meme calling all dsmp stans (he later claims he meant inniters specifically) the r slur

Shit BLOWS UP obviously because he called 15 million people a slur in a derogatory way. Makes SO MANY excuses that don't work ofc. Later deletes all his tweets abt it, but prior to doing so he TRIPLED DOWN ON USING THE R SLUR. Tried to excuse it with "I'm autistic" (which personally idk if I believe bc he's such a fucking liar but I also don't follow Dr*m obv so if he posted abt the diagnosis then. Whatever. Anyway)

Tommy, Tubbo, Jack, Sneeg, and so so so many other CCs now have been ripping him apart for the last 48 hours. Tubbo has dissected everything he's said on Twitter and a Reddit post he made yesterday

Last night at like midnight to 3am his time, Dr*m goes live and dissects Tubbo's vod of him dissecting Dr*m's shit and Dr*m GENUINELY CRASHES OUT for 3 FUCKING HOURS, most of which was him projecting on Tommy hardcore and lying and manipulating AS USUAL. If you care enough, I'd watch Tubbo's vod. OR you can probably find a summary somewhere but it's. A lot.

Tubbo went live at 10am CST today dissecting Dr*m's crashout, which lasted FOUR FUCKING HOURS. He was meant to talk to Dr*m directly on stream today but then--

Tommy posted a 5 min vid clapping back very concisely so Dr*m is in the process of making a response vid, therefore he canceled his chat with Tubbo.

Quackity tweeted he would be going live because during Dr*m's crashout he name dropped SEVERAL ex-dsmp members and other people such as Ludwig, a6d, the girl GNF assaulted, Gumball's VA. The list goes on. However, idk for sure if Quackity is gonna talk abt this, all he tweeted was "going live later" basically.

47 MCYT CCs were tuned in to Tubbo's dissection stream today at one point or another. I haven't seen MCYT this united since we all ousted W*lbur for abusing Shelby Shubble (you said you haven't been around since the dsmp finale so idk how much abt that you know. It happened in late Feb last year)

People are welcome to break down these events in greater detail in my reblogs if they're crazy enough!

[departmentofsnideremarks]

Yeah, I think you're way off the mark here, both in terms of an understanding what the Luddite movement was created to do/achieve and the frustrations that this image is meant to convey.

First and foremost, the Luddite movement was not simply people going "Unga bunga, machines bad!" as it is often considered today. It wasn't a movement to "only produce fabric by hand." When the Luddite movement formed, Britain had just come out of the Napoleonic wars and the War of 1812 with the US, which had left their economy in shambles, with high unemployment and inflation. The factory owners were using the machines allowed them to avoid negotiating with skilled tradespeople and hire unskilled, low-wage workers and literal children instead. This undermined the authority and circumvented the agreements that they already had with trade unions. The actual demands of the Luddites were to work with the trade unions, stop using child labor, and increase the minimum wage. It wasn't a regressive effort against the technology itself, but a violent result of being abused by the economy and those with capital who were putting profit above all else. We can see that paralleled today in the demands of the Acting/Writer's unions that went on strike in recent years.

If you would like some criticisms of "AI", I'd be happy to talk about them, since a singular, shareable image isn't really meant to be 95 theses nailed to OpenAI's door. The biggest issue, at least to me, is that the neural network is a black box. You cannot ask it why it made a certain decision or how it came to a conclusion without extensive testing and that can disguise biases. Let's talk about its application in the medical field. Let's say we want to use AI to diagnose dermatological issues (see Han, et al 2018). This would be fantastic as early detection of skin cancers or other diagnoses could lead to greatly improved outcomes and their study showed quiet a lot of promise! Wouldn't that be great? No need to go to the doctor; just take a picture of that spot on your arm, load it into an app, and have your diagnosis/treatment options in seconds. However, further examination of their algorithm showed that simply changing the orientation, brightness, or magnification of the same image led to entirely different diagnoses. One of the examples listed showed that one image was diagnosed, with 99% confidence, as a harmless spot on the skin. And then, simply by magnifying the exact same image, the AI came up with a new diagnosis: skin cancer, 97% confidence. That is not an algorithm that's anywhere near ready for public consumption. The secondary study also showed that they didn't include much of the metadata (such as patient history, age, gender, anatomical location, etc.) that would go into actually making a diagnosis. Not to mention that there have been other studies that show that other, non-diagnostic characteristics in an image were being used by the algorithm for diagnosis, such as the presence of rulers or ink marks. And then we have to take into consideration that different races manifest in different ways, so an algorithm trained on data from Edinburgh may not have a sufficient data pool to diagnose someone who isn't of a certain skin tone. We need look no further for an example of bias in training data than China, who trained a facial recognition program to identify "criminals". However, their training data was largely mugshots of people who had already been arrested. Imagine if that same training was done in the US. People are eager to assume that AI is unbiased, but if it's pulling its data from biased sources, the outcome is going to carry that bias.

The problem, then, is that people are too ready and willing to trust AI as some sort of impartial arbiter of truth, despite very real and sometimes unknowable (without extensive research and testing) biases in its training data. This eagerness to trust AI particularly comes from people with money and power who have a vested interest in seeing their investment into AI pay off. Companies that have invested a great deal into AI are pushing it onto their consumers regardless of whether the consumers want to use it with very little ability to opt out. We're seeing infamous images of Google's AI recommending that people add glue to their pizza to keep toppings from sliding off or that people should regularly consume small rocks for their mineral content. Microsoft's Copilot was launched prematurely, struggled to process large amounts of data, and incorporated the user's data into it's neural network, creating questions of confidentiality and data security. People aren't asking for it. People don't want it. Companies and those who create these algorithms want people to use it so that they can make their money back.

Theranos was a medical diagnostic fraud to the tune of $700 million, do you really think it would be beyond the expectations of a company to take something like the dermatology algorithm, package it into an app, and sell it to insurance companies and healthcare providers to replace real dermatologists? What happens then? Can you hold an algorithm accountable for a misdiagnosis the way you can for a doctor? If someone's cancer advances to a fatal degree because the picture they used was too dark or if they underwent extensive and invasive treatment because they took a picture of their mole in the mirror rather than directly, what recourse do they have? We see this lack of accountability again and again and again across the spectrum of learning models. If your Waymo taxi runs over somebody, who's accountable? The company? The developers of the driving algorithm? If someone circumvents the laughable protections that keep image generators from recreating copyrighted images, who is held responsible? If someone gets fired because they wrote a professional document using ChatGPT and the language model had a "hallucination" which presented entirely incorrect information, do they have grounds to sue OpenAI? If someone injures themselves using an exercise regimen created for them by one of these AIs, do they have any recourse? If a video-making AI is asked to create a Sci-Fi film and the protagonist looks identical to Mark Hamill or a horror film staring Not Jamie Lee Curtis, who becomes responsible for using their likeness without permission? Perhaps you could say that these are a failing of our legal system, not of the AI itself, but I'd argue it's the companies who are exploiting the grey areas in our legal system for profit, regardless of the detriment it may be having to our society as a whole, which is what this image is really meant to argue against.

I'm not saying that there is no value in "AI" now or in the future. But the technology, as it exists now, is not ready for the widespread commercial applications that are being forced onto the public by those who create them. The trust that's placed in it is misguided at best and could be outright dangerous at worst.

[lazylittledragon]

Heya, feel free not to answer if this is uncomfortable, invasive or you just don't want to :)

I'm a trans guy and I'm, after top surgery, hoping to get laurel wreaths tattooed over the scars with florograpgy accents.

Do you have any advice for someone who's never had a tattoo before? Anyways to deal with pain, common courtesies for the tattoo artist, how the actual session goes, etc.?

Love ya,

Quimble

THAT'S A GREAT IDEA also absolutely!!!

don't stress about it or worry about being 'too much', for someone's first one i will talk through every single thing i'm doing and there are no stupid questions or too many concerns. also don't worry about twitching/flinching, it's not your fault and we know how to work around it

your artist should never make you feel bad about ANYTHING!! you can move the stencil as many times as you want and we don't care about your body or what you look like. if you need to take a break it's fine, if you need numbing spray it's fine. i would honestly rather slightly inconvenience myself than make you uncomfortable. as long as you aren't intentionally wiggling around the entire time or being a dick to the artist, you're all good.

yes it is going to hurt but it probably won't be as bad as you think it will be. when i got my first one i really hyped myself up and was very underwhelmed by the pain aksddfjfdj

bring something with you like a book or headphones if you need a distraction (as long as the tattoo placement allows it). i'm quite chatty most of the time but if you want a quiet session/no smalltalk you can ask for that

the actual session will go something like: show up, look at the design, make any changes if you want, test it out for sizing, put the stencil on and make sure you like it, then start the tattoo. afterwards they'll go through all the aftercare with you and either put on second skin (a film that sticks to your skin and protects the tattoo) or wrap it in clingfilm

if they haven't specified when you book the appointment then ask if it's cash/card/paypal etc and if it's cash, try and get it out BEFORE the tattoo appointment (just a time saving thing). also tipping is never expected but always Extremely appreciated :))

please please PLEASE tell us if you don't like the design/want to change the placement etc. personally i would be mortified if i knew someone didn't like what i'd done and didn't feel comfortable telling me. it's there forever so i want you to like it!!

[trashytracktales]

Idk if you write about this topics since they are really sensitive, but it is something I’m currently struggling with and I would like to see how lando would react after finding out that the reader has been hiding a her struggle with mental illness and attempts of ending her life. Once again I know how sensitive this request is but I started reading your work and fell in love with it and thought that you would write this beautifully

Seasons change | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── This was a pretty difficult one-shot to write, even though it's not very lengthy. I know that mental health is still a topic of actuality that we all deal with in one way or another. The only thing that I want you guys to remember after reading this, is that you are not alone. I know that it may sound like a broken record, but it's true. Each of us has a Lando in our lives who will care enough to stand by you without ulterior motives or conditions. And if you really feel like you don't, I can be him for you. My DMs and ask box are always open, so don't hesitate to reach out if you need someone. You matter in all your forms 🤍

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☆ summary ──── He's been away for work for a while now, but when Lando comes home to find his girlfriend at her lowest, they have to learn the hard way that love is about sitting with each other in the dark, not just chasing the light.

☆ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

☆ rating ──── mature

☆ category ──── F/M

☆ word count ──── 2.6k

☆ date ──── Jan. 11, 2025

☆ warnings ──── 16+, established relationship, soft!Lando, mental health struggles, depression, suicidal ideation, mention of alcohol consumption and pills, emotional distress, vulnerability, guilt and healing, non-sexual nudity (bathtub scene, including tenderness and intimacy).

Please, proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being. If you or someone you know is struggling, these are some of the resources I personally used for years now & I think (and hope) that it might help you at some point:

☆ MENTAL HEALTH APPS

Calm

7 cups

BetterMe

☆ INSTAGRAM ACCOUNTS

idontmind

thefabstory (also an app)

getreformative (currently inactive, but great resources posted there)

talkspace

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THE APARTMENT IS too quiet tonight. A space that once felt like a sanctuary, now seems to close in on her, the walls pressing closer with each passing hour.

To anyone looking in, her life might appear perfectly ordinary, even enviable. She has a stable job that she loves, a couple of friends who care in their own way, and Lando. Lando, with his boundless energy, his boyish grin, and his unwavering ability to see the good in her even when she struggles to find it in herself. But beneath that polished surface, there’s a darkness she’s been hiding for as long as she can remember.

She’s not really sure when it happened, or what caused her to lose her spark. Most of the times, she thinks that she’s always been like this, but that can’t be right. Although, at this point in time, it went on long enough that she learned to wear masks and mimic people’s gestures. It’s exhausting, but it’s easier than explaining why some days she can barely drag herself out of bed, or why her mind feels like a storm she can’t escape.

Lately, the same storm has been relentless. Lando’s been away for weeks, hopping from one race to another, his life a whirlwind of fast cars, tons of people, and flashing cameras. She’s proud of him, of course, but his absence leaves a void she can’t seem to fill on her own, no matter how many phone calls they share.

She knows it’s not his responsibility to fix her, but without even knowing it, Lando does it every time he looks at her. In those moments, pieces of her heart are welded back together, giving her hope that one day, maybe, it will be whole again.

Of course, things aren’t that easy.

She’s always been a loner, someone who enjoys her own company more than the chaos of others. This is why she doesn’t go with Lando to all of his races. Over time, they’ve developed their own rhythm, and it only works when they both put in the effort to be together. However, she knows that he often works for both of them. She also knows that it’s not right to let him do this, but she doesn’t know how to stop.

But being alone isn’t the same as being lonely, and lately, the loneliness feels like it’s swallowing her whole. She tries to keep busy, to distract herself with work or a new book, but the dark thoughts always find her; a cycle she can’t break. They usually creep in at night when she’s most vulnerable, whispering lies she can’t ignore.

You’re a burden.

He’d be better off without you.

Everyone would be better off without you.

In spite of everything, she knows she’s lucky, though. She has a roof over her head, food on the table, and someone who loves her. And, somehow, knowing that only makes her feel worse. Most of the times, the guilt is suffocating — a heavy weight that presses down on her chest until she can’t breathe. She’s tried to push the thoughts away, to drown them in work or meaningless distractions. She tried to be grateful. But tonight, like many other nights before, they’ve won.

When Lando steps into the apartment, the soft click of the door is echoing in the stillness. It’s late — later than he’d hoped — and he assumes she’s already asleep, because he texted her hours ago to let her know he was on his way, but there had been no reply.

Dropping his bag quietly by the door, he toes off his sneakers and glances toward the dimly lit living room. The faint glow of the city skyline filters through the curtains, casting muted shadows across the floor. He moves carefully, not wanting to wake her, with a simple plan in mind: slip into bed, wrap his arms around his girlfriend, and fall asleep to the steady rhythm of her breathing.

But something feels off.

On his way to the bedroom, he spots the balcony door slightly ajar. A cool breeze sneaks through the crack, carrying with it the faint scent of something acrid. He pauses, his brow furrowing as he approaches the glass door.

That’s when he sees her.

She’s out on the balcony, her back to him, legs dangling dangerously over the edge. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his mind struggling to process what he’s seeing. Then his gaze shifts, taking in the scene: some things are knocked over on the small table by the door, a small flacon of pills alongside a half-empty bottle of wine, and all the mess. The realization hits him like a physical blow, and his heart starts pounding in his chest.

But then, panic grips him as he slides the door open, stepping out onto the balcony. The sound startles her, and she turns her head slightly, her expression distant and unfocused. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and there’s an eerie calmness about her that chills him to the core.

“Hey, is everything okay?” asks Lando, his voice soft as he crouches beside her, careful not to make any sudden movements. “What… baby, what are you doing out here?”

She doesn’t answer immediately, her gaze drifting back to the city below. The silence stretches, each second feeling heavier than the previous one.

“Talk to me,” he pleads, his voice slightly cracking. His eyes dart back to the table, to the pill bottle and the wine, and he feels a surge of anger mixed with fear. “Is this—fuck. Did you take these?”

She shakes her head, a small smile curving in the corner of her mouth. “I’m so tired, love,” she whispers finally, her voice shaking over the hum of the city.

Her words hit him like a punch in the gut, and he’s suddenly aware of how fragile she looks, and how close she is to the edge. His hands shake as he reaches for her, gently gripping her arm. His heart beats so hard that he feels it throughout his body — his ribcage, in his throat, in the hand he tightens around her, to make sure he’s holding her with enough force.

“Okay. That’s okay,” he says, his tone soft but urgent. “Let’s go inside, yeah? I’m tired too, we can rest together. What do you say?”

“No… no, it’s not—” she tries to speak, but her brain is clouded by a mental fog, and everything around her moves too quickly for her to catch up.

“Come on, can you step back? Please. For me?”

His last question is what jolts her back to reality. For him? She would do anything for him. Lando knows that, and she soon realizes that he is using it to emotionally blackmail her. He always does that, and it annoys her.

She raises her head to look at him, her tired eyes meeting his, and for a moment, Lando thinks she’ll comply. But then, she pushes his hand away, a trace of betrayal crossing his face.

“No. It’s pretty out here,” she says, gazing down at the world that simply exists under her feet. The distance makes her stomach clench, knowing that all it takes it’s a small misstep for everything to end. Still, she doesn’t move an inch.

“I see that, love,” he agrees, “But I want to talk to you, and I can’t do that unless I make sure you’re safe. Did you… do this before?”

She nods slowly, refusing to look at him.

At that, Lando exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm the storm in his chest. He knows her enough to know when to push and when to give her space, only this time around, he’s met with a weird combination of both. Luckily, his body decides what to do before his mind agrees to it and, cautiously, he climbs up to join her on the edge, his hands gripping the cold railing as his pulse pounds in his ears.

Her head snaps toward him, her expression instantly shifting, panic flashing in her eyes. “No, what are you doing?” she whispers, her voice cracking.

“I’m with you,” he murmurs, his voice tender, laced with fear he’s desperately trying to hide. “If you’re staying here, then so am I.”

She blinks, her lips parting as if to protest, but no words come. Instead, her gaze softens, the wine-induced haze in her eyes clearing. Slowly, she lets out a shaky breath and sits down on the narrow ledge, her hands gripping the edge. Lando follows her lead, sitting close but careful not to crowd her, his knee brushing hers. He hesitates for a moment before gently reaching for her hand, and he exhales relieved when her fingers close around his, grounding both of them.

They sit in silence for a moment, the distant city lights flickering around them.

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know?” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible, breaking the quiet. “I never… If something happens, I don’t want to have to miss you all the time—”

“Lando, I know,” she cuts him off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she continues, staring at their joined hands. Her voice is small, guilt creeping into her tone.

He nods, looking at her, “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Lando says gently. “I know I’m away a lot, but if you need me, I’ll do anything.”

Her grip on his hand tightens slightly just as she turns to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeats, tears pooling but not yet falling. “It’s not your fault, Lan. It’s me. I… don’t even know. There’s nothing wrong, but at the same time, nothing’s quite right, either.”

He shakes his head, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Don’t apologize for feeling. It just makes me think now, because I thought you trusted me,” says Lando, his words cutting through her like a knife through butter. “I trust you,” he adds, almost like pointing it out.

She knows he does, her mind instantly replaying the moments in her mind, the times he’d come to her with his struggles. When a race didn’t go his way, and he doubted everything he’d worked so hard for. When social media was brutal, tearing him apart with words that left invisible scars. When he felt hated and couldn’t understand why. He always talked to her, shared his pain, his fears, his insecurities. He let her in, trusted her completely. And now, here she was, shutting him out when he was only trying to do the same for her.

“Don’t say that…” she starts, but her voice catches, and her breath hitches. “I’m trying.”

“I know, baby. I know,” Lando says gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Can we, please, just go inside?”

The tears she’s been holding back for too long finally slip free, carving hot, silent paths down her cheeks. She looks up at him, her lips trembling as she whispers, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

His expression softens, and without hesitation, he lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles, mostly to show her that she didn’t. The gesture is so simple yet so full of love that it sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over her.

Lando doesn’t let go of her hand as he gently helps her to her feet, guiding her back inside the apartment. The night air clings to their skin, but it’s the quiet inside that feels even heavier. He doesn’t say much, just keeps her close, his touch steady and grounding as they make their way to the bathroom.

A little uncomfortable now, she leans against the doorframe, watching as Lando moves around, carefully. He runs the water, testing the temperature with his hand, adding just the right amount of bath salts from the container on the shelf. The pale lavender-scented steam begins to fill the space, creating a safe bubble for both of them.

When Lando finally looks back at her, his expression is warm and inviting, somehow hopeful. He steps closer, reaching out to gently cup her cheek, wiping away the tear stains that remain.

“You’re everything to me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over her skin before his hands move to the hem of her hoodie.

She doesn’t protest as he carefully lifts it over her head, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving hers. For a moment, she stands there, feeling vulnerable under his gaze, but there’s nothing but love in his expression.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she reaches out to return the gesture, undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one. His eyes stay locked on hers, silently reassuring her, grounding her in the best way possible. By the time she pushes the fabric off his shoulders, the weight in her chest feels a little lighter.

They step into the bath together, the warm water enveloping them like a soothing embrace. She settles between his legs, her back against his chest, and his arms come around her instinctively. There’s no rush, no need for words. It’s just them, surrounded by the quiet hum of the water and the soft glow of the candles Lando had lit earlier.

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment before he rests his chin on her shoulder. “Promise you’ll talk to me next time?” he asks, his voice small but steady. “I know things won’t change overnight, I don’t expect them to. But I need to know you understand that I’m here for you. That I love you enough to listen, and feel everything with you.”

The words settle in her chest, heavy but necessary, like the first raindrops of a storm. For the first time in what feels like forever, she sees beyond the swirling chaos in her mind. The weight of his love and understanding wraps around her like the warmth of the water they’re sitting in. And then it hits her.

How life itself is the changing of seasons, a constant push and pull — a constant chaos. Sometimes, the sun will break through, lighting everything in gold. Other times, it will rain so hard she won’t see the way ahead. But Lando’s right. It will get better again. Then worse. And then better again. That’s the way it is for everyone. A relentless tide of ups and downs, joy and pain, hope and disappointments.

As she leans back into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, she realizes the most important thing: it isn’t always black or white. Sometimes, it’s a hazy gray — a space where the lines blur, where the answers aren’t clear, and the path you find yourself on feels impossibly difficult to navigate. But it’s in that in-between, in the murky middle, that having the right person beside you matters the most. Not to pull you into the light or demand you leave the shadows, but to sit with you in the dark, holding your hand, letting you know you’re not alone.

She swallows hard, her throat tight, but not from sadness this time. “I promise,” she finds the strength to whisper. Her breath catches, and she turns her head slightly to meet his gaze, tears still pooling in her eyes. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I—”

“You deserve everything, my love,” Lando assures her, his lips brushing her temple, before placing a tiny kiss there. “And I’ll make sure you get it.”

His definitive tone sends shivers down her spine.

She closes her eyes, feeling the water ripple softly around them, and holds on tighter, knowing that no matter what storms may come, the most important thing is that they won’t lose each other’s touch.

And that’s everything to her.

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[notebooks-and-laptops]

!!!! I used to work at a library and FYI a lot of libraries (at least in the UK) have special stuff for under 18 accounts to avoid this very issue!!

We were very aware that under 18s could be put off from coming back to the library because they got in trouble with their parents over fines. Also kids avoid stuff like crazy so if they think they're gonna get in trouble the likihood is we'd never see that book again.

So the under 18 accounts fines would wipe if you returned the book! They only ever got fined if the book was truly 'lost'. But if you returned it even after YEARS fines would wipe no matter how many times you did this prior to being 18.

This did really help us get books back AND I think made kids feel a lot less pressured and more willing to take books out!

[thewertsearch]

Ah, the Sylladex. Across the entirety of my long, long journey through this comic, you've remained my oldest and dearest friend.

I honestly thought you'd run out of ways to surprise me - but as usual, I underestimated just how far you can really go with punch-card alchemy.

You flip the card over and look at the back. The thing about this modus you think is really cool is that instead of showing a completely useless wobbly garbled code on the back, it itemizes the components which could be used to create it!

The comic has just given us a way to reverse-engineer item recipes, which was one of the only missing pieces left to slot into the alchemy system. Back in Act 4, John was convinced that this was impossible, but Sollux solved it off-panel, and now we know how he did it.

This is pretty crazy, isn't it? We can deconstruct items now, allowing us to disassemble any object, and take a peek at the concepts that it's synthesized from. The potential utility here is insane. If this modus works on ghost images, we could tear apart a Kernelsprite, and see what makes it tick. Hell, we could tear apart a Genesis Frog.

...we could tear apart Skaia.

Just another wonderful innovation by your favorite company. It releases many products of an experimental nature, often with applicability to other kinds of technology and products which haven't hit the market yet.

But, of course, this wonderful innovation comes with some serious strings attached. I'm sure it was given to Jane for a reason, and she'll undoubtedly end up using it in a way that causes problems for us, and solutions for Lord English.

Ayy, it's the Matriorb!

Granted, this doesn't really help Kanaya recreate the thing. The orb's code was never that hard to obtain - just draw it on Jade's Pictionary modus, or something. No, the real issue is that the Matriorb is virtually inimitable, and as a result, its Grist cost is astronomical. Plus, it requires a type of Grist that we've never even seen before.

Edit: Wait, hang on. That's not the cost of the Matriorb, that's how much it would cost to use the Matriorb to make the hat. Strange, that the same item can have multiple Grist costs - but nonetheless, my point still stands. The Matriorb is probably too expensive to alchemize casually.

I suppose there's nothing stopping us from editing the Matriorb's code to try and make it cheaper. Like, perhaps we could scale down the recipe somehow, and try to just synthesize a single troll's genome, rather than the genetic base of an entire race. That would be a lot more affordable, and still useful.

You captchalogue your FAVORITE HAT, which is also your ONLY HAT. You spent basically your ENTIRE CHILDHOOD in this hat, pretending to be hard boiled detectives and whatnot.

I guess it sort of makes sense that the Matriorb can be used to make Dad's hat. The orb represents Alternian parenthood, and the book of prophecies it was merged with could represent the future. Combine those two concepts, and you get the future of parenthood, from the perspective of Alternia - in other words, the parenthood of humanity. So, the merger yields an item representing a human parent: Dad Egbert's hat.

Don't ask me about the potted plant, though. I haven't the foggiest.