#especially when they're so obviously fake

[fewsystemsinonebody]

someone still crying as tears go down even tho they don't feel anything anymore after switching with the one who felt sad if that counts

us having a dissociative attack even tho it started for another person (not an emotion but still a continuation of some sort)

used to have an alter who was screaming and crying for us in head space when we needed emotional regulation

Pink wanted to call our doctor because we feel ashamed to do so and still couldn't because we all felt the huge "I don't wanna" and that made him unable to despite the fact he didn't feel afraid

feeling other alter's feelings in "the back of our head" knowing those aren't truly ours but still notocing them which makes us feel weird/uneasy/disturbed/annoyed in general, sometimes we're startled by sudden flood of emotion from another part and we might even mistake it for ours even if it's an intrusive thought but only for a very short time

us making a certain face or say specific words (even in head space) and it creates a fake feeling that reminds our body of smth similar so other alters are untrusting/confused of their intentions/meaning until explained - more an influence of observing the surroundings and medias + memories, actually wonder if someone makes a face like on a gif... do you feel like that gif? because we sometimes do even if it meant smth else to us entirely XD

attack because of something we don't remember but body does

seeing someone in hs and body mimicking their movements without being in co-front

panic attack after trigger even tho we understand we're not in danger as we misunderstood the situation - happened only once

just being blurry? especially when tired and I dunno who's me so obviously no idea which emotions are mine

not being sure who is fronting and for a moment having emotions of an alter by borrowing it due to being mistaken to your own identity - can't explain it well but we sometimes can switch and not notice that then still think certain alter is on the front thinking I love someone when I don't then realising that I don't because... I'm somebody else but for a moment if we don't think much about it we don't care if we truly feel it as we "remember" we're supposed to lol

having non fitting traits/triggers/trauma that split immediately after trigger (leftovers of those alters who are gone - their traits can fall on alters and don't fit which causes splits later)

wanting to do things for others - I "feel" you would like it, I'm sorry you went through that so I'm so empathetic I can feel your pain that even I can be angry for you, I'm "crushing" on someone majority of us are interested in but not as an individual (just happy for others) etc

I'm still nervous/stressed/anxious/afraid even tho we switched and I need some time adjusting/calming down

bad emotions overwhelming the "healthier/happier" part of the system as we share the same body/mind - not anxious in head space but anxious outside for example even if they don't have their own reason at the time or have at least less reasons to

someone's anger affecting entire system, especially alters who are prone to anger even if they don't really have their own reason to be mad at this very moment but they're like set on fire (possibly anger holders)

depressed/suicidal state of the system even if I want to live as an individual even resulting in alter fronting to kms for others without his own will to do so or hearing intrusive thoughts

fragments not having their own emotions if any at all "feeling" those for others in a weird way like they're ordered to (were tought)

intrusive thoughts attacking us like a disease taking control of our thinking or actions for a moment - we're not being ourselves during those moments (usually during very stressful time, being super exhausted/sleepy or very angry)

hope I understood the assignment, if that's not helpful then I'm really deeply sorry!

hello sysblr. please help me out!

can you all tell be about your experiences with emotional influence and emotions 'bleeding through' from another part/alter?

i had an experience recently that is making me think again.

[crumblingspine]

These people are so lame like if you're gonna make up shit about me behind my back then at least have some story behind it don't just say "erm he's been kind of a bigot lately" with no source??? That's really weird of you actually!!!

[autumnrory]

my sister was telling me about i guess travis and his brother having a podcast and with all the swifties getting into football they'll answer questions about how the game works and i was polite but i was just like listen genuinely getting into new things is cool but if you are truly just getting into something bc you want to hype up your fave's boyfriend it's just so embarrassing lol the second they break up you are going to stop being into football just like you stopped caring about joe's movies just like you stopped caring about calvin's music IT HAPPENS EVERY TIME

[troublcmakcrs]

//the only real goth kids are tweek, heidi, and stan. all the other ones are faking it

[snootlestheangel]

Post-MW3 but Laswell had only faked Soap's death, all under the guise of it being the better thing to do.

Let Makarov believe he had actually killed one of the 141. He'd walk away from that thinking he had a small victory and wouldn't feel pressured to make his next move soon. Laswell wanted him to go into hiding, wanted the team to take the time to figure some things out.

She obviously hadn't anticipated the loose cannon of Captain Price, and him killing Shepherd threw a wrench in everything.

A few months have gone by, and Laswell gets a hit on some activity from Konni group. She tells the team they'll meet her informant there.

Obviously, there's a bit of a big blowout when they realize John 'Soap' MacTavish is the informant. Ghost takes it the worst of all of them, but he doesn't outwardly react. Not in front of Soap. But when they're alone with Laswell to ask her "what the fuck?" Ghost lets it all out.

He's cussing up a storm, saying it was all bullshit, that they should have been in on it.

"Who in this room knows what it's like to be dead better than anyone else? Bloody hell where the fuck do you think "Ghost" comes from?"

And Ghost doesn't ever talk directly to Soap or Laswell the rest of the time they're working on their latest Intel. It's upsetting to everyone, especially Gaz cause he isn't quite sure what the fuck has happened to his team. But Soap seems to be handling Ghost's cold shoulder pretty well, so Gaz keeps his distress to himself.

Finally, Ghost gets a moment alone with Soap. And Soap starts to leave, starts to give Ghost privacy because that's what Soap thinks he needs: some time and space to figure it all out in his head.

But Ghost stops him.

And the mask comes off, and Ghost slips away to reveal Simon. Simon who looks so small despite still standing over Soap.

And Soap is sorry, he's so sorry, Simon.

And he's begging for forgiveness and Simon has yet to say a word. So Soap falls quiet, lets the silence eat away at him as Simon stands there, jaw working as he thinks of something to say.

"I had lost you, Johnny."

It's such a quiet whisper, and it's so broken and it just stabs Soap through the heart. But he doesn't say anything back.

Instead he reaches for his Simon, reaches up to try and hold his head in his hands once again.

And Simon leans into the touch, allows himself a moment of softness during all this war. Allows this tender moment as he lets Soap hold him gently.

And it doesn't last long, doesn't need to. They're back with each other, in each other's hands, safe and breathing. That's all Ghost, all Simon, had ever begged for.

"The next time you die, I'm fucking going with you, you understand?"

"Of course, LT. You and me, aye?"

"Always."

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

i don't have the words to articulate it at this moment but there's something about the way that people have specific expectations for "authenticity" and will dismiss anything that falls outside them as a mangled, anglicised version of the thing when actually that is the older and more traditional form of something, it just doesn't match their expectations. obviously in my personal experiences i'm mostly talking about medieval literature here especially medieval irish literature

sometimes this is as simple as spelling – i've had people argue that the name "finn" is anglicised and it should always be "fionn" to be Really Irish, but "finn" is an older spelling, glide vowels are later, if you wanna go real far back it'll be "find" (nd in place of nn is an older spelling pattern). or they'll hear someone say "ogam" and assume they're mispronouncing "ogham" due to lack of knowledge of irish and not consider the fact that medievalists tend to use the older form of the word. or they'll Well Actually you about "correct" terminology which wasn't standardised (and/or invented) until the 20th century

a lot of this is defensive and the result of seeing a lot of people ACTUALLY get this stuff wrong and have no respect for the language. in that regard i understand it, although it becomes very tedious after a while, particularly when people sanctimoniously declare something "inauthentic", "fake", or "anglicised" without doing enough research to realise it's not trying to be modern irish and is in fact correct for older forms of the language

more often however this search for the projected "authenticity" is ideological and has much larger flaws and more problematic implications. "this can't be the real story because it's christian" well... that's the oldest version of the story that exists and it postdates christianity in ireland by about nine hundred years, so... maybe question why you're assuming the only "real" version of irish stories can't be a christian one? this is especially true when it comes to fíanaigecht material tbh, but in general there seems to a widespread misapprehension about ireland's historical relationship with christianity (i have seen people arguing that christianity in ireland is the result of english colonialism which took their "true" faith from them... bro. they were christian before the "english" existed. half the conversion efforts went the other way. please read some early medieval history thank you)

however i also saw someone saying this about arthurian literature lately which REALLY baffled me. "we'll never have the Real arthurian stories only the christianised versions" and it was in the context of chivalric romance. buddy you are mourning something that does not exist. this "authentic" story you're looking for isn't there. that twelfth century story you're dismissing as a christian bastardisation is as "real" a part of this tradition as you're going to get

[https-lvesick]

lola lemme ask you.. what do you think of haechan's. fingers. 🤤

completely. obsessed. 🤤

and he knows that too, obviously. you can't even pretend you don't stare at his fingers whenever they're adorned with those pretty silver rings, or when he's drumming his own thighs, but especially when he's playing, whether it be on the computer or console. his fingers move so fast, you wonder when will they finally play with you.

and they do just so fine.

“arghh hyeok...” you whine, feeling his fingers playing with your cunt. haechan has been teasing you for the past ten minutes, tracing from your hole to your clit with the pads of his fingers, smearing your arousal.

you were both chilling on the bed, watching a movie and cuddling. it was all perfectly normal, until you feel your boyfriend's hands stroking gently your thighs. suddenly his fingers catch your full attention. and he notices, you ain't slick, especially about that. that's why he has your legs spread and trapped in his own.

“what, baby? you want me to stop? i thought you loved my fingers...” he pouts, faking a sad expression.

“yes, yes, i love them, hyeok! please, baby, put them inside me!” you plead, desperately, and he smiles.

complying, he inserts two of his fingers, in a painfully slow rhythm, making you squeeze his thighs. haechan sneaks his free hand inside your shirt, also playing with your nipples.

“hear that?” he laughs, enjoying every second. “didn't know only my fingers could get you that wet, baby.” he increases the speed of his hand, making the squelching sound even more evident. his fingers were moving so fast in your pussy that the pleasure was overwhelming you.

you writhe in his arms, clenching around his fingers. soon you feel haechan's lips against your neck, scattering wet kisses. it all adds to your pleasure, making you try to close your legs, but he doesn't let you.

“hyeok... i'm gonna- fuck- gonna cum...” you cry out, feeling something hot pooling on your core.

your eyes roll and you let out a whiny, languid, moan, calling out haechan's name. soon you feel the sheets wet, and again, your boyfriend's wet kisses.

“i'm fucking proud of you.” he whispers in your ear. “i should've know this sooner if i wanted to give my girl my best performance.” he seems to talk to himself, then you realize something.

you squirted for the first time on his fingers.

[chelledoggo]

it just really occurred to me:

"loving your enemies" and "praying for those who persecute you" are things that take IMMENSE spiritual discipline. especially in this day and age. it's a discipline i haven't even mastered. i don't think i'm even close, and it's probably going to take a long time for me to get there.

it's so easy to just hate bigots and wish death on them, and that's kind of the trendy thing to do. and it really does seem like a lot of people deserve it. like, they're not sorry for being bigots, so our natural reaction is not to forgive them. they do and say horrible shit, so an eye for an eye just seems like the natural mindset to have, right?

being compassionate even when you don't condone the person's action exerts a LOT more emotional and spiritual energy. it's understandable why a lot of people would prefer not to do that. they're tired from all the abuse and oppression.

but it's said that one of the biggest reasons to forgive is for your own inner peace. if you're holding onto anger, you're not at peace.

the same can be said for bigots. regardless of how smug and satisfied and "not mad" they seem, they're absolutely not at peace. if they were, they wouldn't be bigots. they wouldn't give a shit about the fact that people exist who aren't like them. they'd be able to just go on with their own life.

that's why we're called to "pray for those who persecute us." we're not just praying for them to change, we're praying for them to find peace. real peace. not the fake "peace" they claim to have with themselves while spouting hateful tirades.

and obviously "loving your enemies" DOESN'T mean you excuse their actions. hell no. if someone is a bigot, the right thing to do is to call them on it while defending the oppressed.

it means you have to make an effort to keep your anger, rightful as it may be, in check. it's something you do just as much for yourself as you do for the other.

[whereserpentswalk]

Your new roommate is an android. You could tell when you saw them, their skin is pretty obviously artificial material, their eyes glow a little, and they have that voice and those mannerisms that a lot of them have. They're warm to the touch, warmer than any human, most androids are warmer than humans despite the serotypes. This isn't surprising, you've met a lot of androids before, and you know a lot go to this school.

What is surprising is that they don't admit it. They call themself a human, act dismissive towards the idea of androids as part of human society, try to avoid anything that's part of android culture. You adapt pretty quickly to referring to them as a human, but you'll always know they aren't. You assume it's because of bigotry, you know androids still face a lot of social issues, but bigots can still tell they're an android as much as you can. And it's not like things are like they were back in the 21st century, especially in a college in a large city, bigots can't just openly say they hate nonhumans, they're subtle in ways that make pretending to be a human hurt even more. But you are human, so you think it's best not to say anything.

You see how much your roommate sacrifices just to look human. They never show any skin other than their face and hands, which makes overheating even worse. They waste hours trying to fake sleep, when everyone knows they can't sleep, they always make excuses as to why they can't eat any given meal. And you can't even mention nonhumans around them without them being dismissive of anyone openly nonhuman. They don't have solidarity with any other androids, can't participate in any of the things on campus specifically designed for people like them. You want them to be happy, and you know they'd just be happier if they admitted being what everyone knew they were.

There's a lot of nonhumans in your friend group, a lot of clones and cyborgs, and one or two androids. Most of the time you don't think about how they aren't human. But not your roommate, you always think about how they're an android because you have to in order to pretend you think they're human.

And they become so proud of their humanity. Humanity they don't even have. Like they're loving the fact that they can say that they're human, that they can say they're part of the most privileged group in the solar system. It's almost like they're larping as a character, they've mentioned family on Mars at this point, family that you know they physically can't have. It's best to just pretend.

Your roommate knows a lot about certain places, about how certain practices work, places and practices that are horrifying to think even still exist. Places where android suffer in ways that make you feel guilty just to be a human. Places only someone whose been there could know about. It's a miracle this person is in college at all. They don't want to be an android, don't want to be able to be hurt the way only their kind is hurt.

Eventually they cut their face. Cut it deeply enough so that you can see they don't bleed, so that you can see the metal under their plastic skin. They have to walk around like that for a while, they can barely go to class, barely talk to anyone, knowing they can't pass for human. By the time they get the cut fixed everyone knows, well everyone always knew, some people are confused because they didn't even know your roommate wanted to be a human.

When you talk to them again you realize they expected you to want nothing to do with them. They're still uncomfortable around other nonhumans, they don't want to be one of them, but they can still talk to you. They're not even wearing clothing, they don't need it, their only skin is on their head and hands, everything else is raw steel, but they still look themself despite everything. They expected you to see them differently, if anything you see them as an android less now.

When you hug them, it's warmer than any human hug could be.

[drdemonprince]

Could you reshare your shoplifting tips

I can't find it so here's a new list for you:

Identify appropriate targets. The ideal store to shoplift from will generally be a large, understaffed, moderately failing business. Walgreens right now is experiencing a huge uptick in shoplifting because its prices are too high and it doesn't have enough staff. Most of the time when I walk into my local Walgreens they don't even have enough staff to have anybody at the registers, let alone to keep an eye on the door. Usually I'm more subtle than this, but at some moments you can literally just walk out the door. Other good shoplifting targets are places like Dollar Tree, Dollar General, CVS, Aldi, non-fancy grocery stores, Meijer, places like that. Be more careful with small businesses. Be more careful with Target, or anywhere with security at the front. Neighborhoods matter too. Wealthy white neighborhoods are more heavily policed and if you stand out as visibly poor in an area where most aren't, you'll have more eyes on you.

Stake out the place. Visit the shoplifting target a variety of times, under a variety of conditions. Notice the ebb and flow of the space -- when does it get busy, when are there are a lot of staff on the floor, when are the lines really long. Check out the exits and the flow of human traffic. Pay some attention to security cameras, but don't assume that they're all even real, or being watched by an actual human. Many stores have fake cameras or only check the footage after there's been an Event. With experience, you will get better at sensing when is a good time to lift, and when not.

Steal at busy times. It's easiest to slip in and out unnoticed, especially without having bought anything, if you go at a time when there's a large traffic flow. You generally don't have to worry about customers ratting you out, unless you're in a very Karen-y neighborhood.

Carry or wear something you can subtly slip items into. I prefer using a tote bag that I act like I'm shopping into. It's very easy and casual to just place items in the bag, readjust the bag so that nothing can be seen poking out of the top, and then stroll out. (Sometimes after buying a few items, sometimes not). I have also used the side pockets on a backpack, or just my pockets. The key is to put items away in a relaxed manner, and to not obviously overstuff yourself. Don't bring TOO big of a bag, don't fill up your pockets TOO much. Keep it very light and subtle.

Avoid being sus. Don't spend a full hour in the grocery store. Don't circle the same two aisles over and over again visibly holding an item you're looking to take. Don't look around suspiciously at the cameras or the staff.

Act bored. This is my NUMBER ONE TIP to avoid being told you're not supposed to do something, whether it's tresspassing on a property, shoplifting, vandalizing, or just using the restroom you wanna use as a trans person. ACT BORED. Act tired and vaguely annoyed and like this is your last errand at the end of a long day and that you've been to this shop a million times before. People are far more likely to ignore you if you seem both relaxed and like you're too weary and over it to be even worth looking at. You can move at a decent pace, still, so long as you treat it like an errand you're just trying to Get Over With so you can get home and chill out.

have fun!!

[froggywritesstuff]

fizzarolli & asmodeus dating hc's

ship/pairing: Fizzarolli x Asmodeus x male!bodyguard!reader (though there's not much talk of the reader's gender)

request: anon: Would it be okay to have an asmodeus x fizzarolli x Male bodyguard reader, I just want some fluff Headcanons like how the relationship would be like.

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of feeling insecure, swearing, maybe ooc, not proofread

A/N: thank you for requesting! i originally only started writing this for fizzarolli because i didn't know enough about asmodeus, but after watching the new episode i decided to edit it for asmodeus as well. hope you enjoy!

they constantly flirt with you 

what’s the point of having a cute bodyguard with you if you’re not gonna try flirt with them occasionally 

if occasionally meant almost every five seconds of every day

they fucking love how flustered you look after they compliment you or makes a flirty remark 

they both especially love how you try (and fail) to stay professional 

fizzarolli's flirting is definitely more crude, while asmodeos is still lewd, but more sensual

overtime their flirting gets more personal

fizzarolli isn't used to someone caring about his safety and well-being like you do, so he truly starts to appreciate your company very soon, and he makes sure to let you know it 

if you tell them you enjoy their company and being around them, they get a thousand times more flirty and clingy with you

even though your job is to literally bodyguard him, asmodeus gets really protective over you

checks if you and fizz are ok like a thousand times after coming home from a day out

he knows you can protect yourself, but if he hears someone talking shit about you behind your back or to your face, he's gonna fuck them up.

now obviously they both adore seeing you flustered around them

but when you spring into action and fight off some random imp that was harassing one of them

different reactions from each, but generally speaking, they're down bAD 

even more than they usually are

as well as it being a huge turn on for fizz, he feels his heart just explode

he doesn’t often see you so strong and protective of him, so when he does it’s like he’s in a trance and can never look away

if you use that opportunity to flirt with him, he's gonna be putty in your hands

being his bodyguard, you don't flirt with him that often so when you do he goes bright red, and turns to a flustered, stuttering mess

asmodeus mainly finds it hot

after confirming that you're not hurt and you're safe, he'll definitely flirt with you 

gets super physical as well, even if you're in public and lots of people can see you 

though he tries to hide it, fizzarolli gets really insecure about your relationship, and thinks you're just faking your feelings since you were hired to be his and asmodeus's bodyguard

it takes a long time for him to actually be vulnerable with you and talk about his feelings

it's a big moment for him so do not try to downplay his feelings or dismiss him

if you ever need to talk about your feelings, or literally anything, asmodeus is definitely the best demon for that

you can rant for hours and he'll stay beside you, nodding and intently listening, chiming in when necessary 

fizzarolli definitely isn't the best listener in hell, but he really makes an effort for you

puts in 110% effort to listen to you and make sure you feel listened to

a lot of the time if you're ranting about something he definitely joins in, and you two have hour long conversations

they're both super supportive of you in whatever you do

and if you're ever feeling insecure about yourself, they're so quick to shut it down and shower you with compliments

[childrenofcain-if]

Did your school also have that awful baby project where you have to partner up with another student and be “parents” for like a fake robot baby? The one that has sensors in it and it cries in the middle of the night and you have to feed it and carry it around for like two weeks.

I'm imagining if MC and C had to pair up for that project in school. It's a funny mental image of two kids arguing over a fake baby like they're 40 year old divorcees.

Obviously they both want a good grade but they literally won't stop arguing over every stupid thing about the fake baby.

A whole lot of: “You're holding it the wrong way.” “No, YOU'RE holding it the wrong way.” “Why did you have to dress it up in THAT outfit. It looks hideous.” “I thought it was cute! What, are you not happy unless it's wearing formal three piece suit, get over yourself.” “You're supposed to look after it tonight.” “I told you that I'm too busy with practice after school.” “Well that's too bad, we both agreed that Friday is YOUR night to look after the baby. I'll get it back on the weekend.” “But I can't take the baby with me to football practice! Why are you so inconsiderate?" "Great, look it's crying now. That's gotta be your fault.”

Teacher would immediately be so done with them and ready to take off points for “inflicting psychic damage on the baby by means of hostile environment” or some bs 💀

it was supposed to be a simple project—a rite of passage, really. every student had to go through it: the dreaded baby project. the one where you and a partner were tasked with taking care of a robot baby for two weeks, complete with cries in the middle of the night, diapers that needed changing, and a never-ending checklist of parental responsibilities. it was meant to teach you about responsibility, commitment, and empathy, or whatever nonsense the school administration tried to sell it as.

you, on the other hand, had different thoughts. especially when you found out that your partner for this cursed experiment was none other than C Lacroix.

the moment the teacher had paired you two together, you both shot each other the same look of mutual horror. of all the people in your class, of all the potential partners, you were stuck with each other. it was like fate had a sick sense of humor. C, the person who couldn’t go a day without making some snide remark about you, was now supposed to co-parent a fake baby with you? for two whole weeks? this was going to be a nightmare.

“why do we even have to do this?” C muttered under their breath, running a hand through their hair as they eyed the little plastic baby lying in the crib in front of you. “making this project mandatory is ridiculous.”

“you think i’m happy about this?” you shot back, already feeling the tension between you two rising. “you’re not exactly my dream partner either.”

the teacher, mrs. wentworth, stood at the front of the class, giving out instructions as though this were the most serious, real-world task you’d ever face in high school. you had to pick up the baby, name it, dress it, and take care of it as if it were real. the sensors inside the baby would track how well you handled it, including how quickly you responded to its cries, how gently you held it, and whether or not you remembered to change its clothes and diapers.

C crossed their arms, glancing at the little bundle of plastic with thinly veiled disgust. “how are we supposed to pass this if it’s literally rigged to cry at random hours?”

you didn’t bother hiding your frustration as you leaned in closer, keeping your voice low. “well, maybe if you actually try instead of complaining all the time, we could figure it out. just a thought.”

they shot you a glare. “oh, so now you’re an expert on fake babies?”

“better than you, at least,” you muttered, folding your arms over your chest.

the two of you stood there in a silent, seething stalemate for a moment, both unwilling to be the first to back down. then mrs. wentworth walked over with an expectant smile, handing you the baby and the care guide that went with it.

“don’t forget,” she said, her voice overly chipper, “this baby is your responsibility. think of it like it’s a real, living child.”

C muttered something under their breath that sounded a lot like kill me now but managed a tight-lipped smile as mrs. wentworth walked away.

and so the nightmare began.

***

the first night was a disaster. the baby—whom you both begrudgingly decided to name “charlie,” after a half-hour debate that nearly escalated into a full-on shouting match—began crying at exactly 2:14 a.m. you were supposed to take care of it that night, but when the piercing wails filled the room, you groaned and instinctively checked your phone. two missed calls from C. the stupid app linked to the baby must’ve been ringing off for them.

“are you kidding me?” you muttered, rolling out of bed and grabbing your phone.

when you called them back, their voice was groggy and clearly annoyed. “why is the baby crying?”

“gee, i don’t know, lacroix, maybe because it’s a robot baby that cries for no reason? it’s literally designed to do this.”

“i thought you were supposed to be taking care of it tonight,” they shot back.

“i am, but it’s just— can’t you hear it over the phone?” you snapped. “it’s like it’s possessed. i’ve tried everything, but it’s not stopping.”

you heard a sigh on the other end, and then a rustling noise. “fine. i’ll come over.”

within fifteen minutes, C was standing in your doorway, wearing a dark green hoodie and gray sweatpants, looking very much like they regretted every life decision that had led them to this moment. they made a beeline for the fake baby, picking it up awkwardly, their movements stiff and unsure.

“you’re holding it the wrong way,” you said immediately, wincing as the baby wailed louder.

they glared at you. “no, i’m not.”

“yes, you are. you have to support its head.”

“i am supporting its head,” they growled through gritted teeth. “this thing’s just broken or something.”

you crossed your arms, trying not to lose your patience entirely. “great, so we’re already terrible parents and it’s only day one.”

C shot you a look of half-exasperation and half-amusement. “well, it’s not like we’re competing for ‘parents of the year,’ are we?”

“oh, trust me, we’re not even good enough to be in the running.”

***

by the end of week one, things had escalated.

“i can’t believe you dressed it in that,” you said, eyeing the baby’s outfit with utter disdain. it was a simple onesie, with little ducks printed all over it, but to you, it was the equivalent of committing some kind of fashion crime.

“what’s wrong with it?” C snapped, not in the mood for another one of your critiques.

“it looks ridiculous. you couldn’t have picked something more… i don’t know, neutral?”

“neutral?” C scoffed, narrowing their eyes at you. “what, were you expecting it to wear a three-piece suit? maybe a little tie and cufflinks? it’ll end up looking like a mini version of your dad.”

“at least it wouldn’t look like a clown.”

C threw their hands up in frustration. “oh my god, it’s a baby. it’s supposed to look cute.”

“that isn’t cute.”

“i thought it was cute!”

“well, it’s not. and now we look like idiots.”

“we?” C let out a sarcastic laugh. “last time i checked, i dressed it while you were too busy pretending to care.”

“i care!” you protested, your voice rising.

“really? because you didn’t seem to care last night when i was the one who had to stay up until 4 a.m.”

you crossed your arms, glaring at C. “i told you i had practice. we agreed that i’d take care of it over the weekend.”

“yeah, well, the baby didn’t get the memo.” C turned to grab the diaper bag, slinging it over their shoulder. “it’s your turn tonight, by the way. don’t be a deadbeat this time.”

“i can’t take it with me to hockey,” you said, your voice flat.

“then figure something out,” C snapped. “i have chess club to attend as well.”

you groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration. “this is impossible.”

“you’re telling me.”

***

come tuesday morning, you were a zombie. dark circles under your eyes, your body aching from both the lack of sleep and the lingering soreness from practice. when you met up with C in the hallway before class, you didn’t bother hiding your exhaustion.

“rough night?” they asked, though there was a smirk playing at the corners of their mouth.

“i hope you choke on your chess pieces,” you muttered, glaring at them.

they raised an eyebrow. “such hostility. it’s not good for our charlie, you know.”

“charlie’s fine. i’m the one who’s falling apart.”

“well, you’re supposed to be a co-parent,” they said, their tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness. “maybe if you actually tried…”

“oh, don’t you dare lecture me about trying,” you snapped. “you’re the one who left me with the baby for three whole days.”

“you’re the one who wanted the weekend slot.”

“it was monday yesterday!”

C opened their mouth to argue, but mrs. wentworth appeared before either of you could get another word in.

“how’s it going with little charlie?” she asked with a smile that was far too cheery for how sleep-deprived you felt.

“great,” C said immediately, flashing a charming smile that was only reserved for faculty members.

you shot them a look that could kill. “‘great?’ really?”

mrs. wentworth raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension. “is there something you want to add?”

you crossed your arms, biting your tongue. the last thing you needed was a lecture on communication from your teacher. “no, it’s fine. we’re doing… great, yes.”

“fantastic,” she said with a smile. “just remember, it’s important to create a healthy, loving environment for your child.”

as soon as she walked away, you turned to C. “loving environment? you couldn’t even be bothered to show up last night.”

they shrugged, unbothered. “i had chess club after school.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, shaking your head. “i can’t wait for this project to be over.”

***

the arguing reached a fever pitch by the middle of the second week. it seemed like every little thing about the baby was grounds for debate.

“you’re not holding it right,” C said, standing over you as you tried to rock the baby to sleep.

you sighed out in irritation. “oh my god, can you just back off for once?”

“i’m serious, you’re supposed to hold it like this,” they insisted, demonstrating with an exaggerated motion, as if they were some kind of baby-holding expert now.

“you do realize it’s not even real, right? the sensors won’t know the difference.”

“that’s not the point.”

you clenched your jaw, doing your best to ignore them as you continued rocking the baby. it was past midnight, and you were exhausted—more exhausted than you’d ever been in your life. who knew a robot baby could be this draining? C, on the other hand, seemed to be operating on a combination of stubbornness and sheer arrogance, unwilling to back down from any argument.

“why are you so obsessed with doing everything your way?” you muttered under your breath.

“i’m not obsessed, i just don’t want us to fail.”

“oh, please, we’re not going to fail because of how i hold the stupid thing.”

“well, it’s crying now, isn’t it?” they shot back, crossing their arms.

you glared at them. “it’s crying because you won’t shut up.”

C huffed in frustration, running a hand through their hair. “fine. you know what? fine. you handle it. i’m done.”

“who’s the deadbeat now?” you snarked as they started storming off to the corner. they stopped in their tracks when they heard you and, with a barely suppressed groan, stomped back to you.

“back so soon?” you asked in faux surprise before thrusting the baby toward them. “your turn.”

C rolled their eyes, grumbling under their breath as they resigned themself to doing the baby-holding now.

***

by the time the project finally came to an end, you and C were barely on speaking terms. the constant bickering, the sleepless nights, and the stress of trying to keep a fake baby “alive” had taken its toll. you were both exhausted—mentally, physically, and emotionally.

when you handed charlie back to mrs. wentworth, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over you. it was finally over.

“well,” mrs. wentworth said, eyeing the two of you with a bemused expression, “i hope this has been a… productive learning experience.”

“yeah,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “something like that.”

she gave you both a tight smile. “i’ll be docking points for the… tension between you two. i did remind you that it’s important to maintain a healthy environment for your child.”

you and C both opened your mouths to protest, but she held up a hand. “no need to argue. you’ve both done enough of that already.”

as you walked out of the classroom, the weight of the past two weeks hung between you. it wasn’t until you were halfway down the hallway that C turned to you, not meeting your eyes.

“all things considered…” they started, their voice low and reluctant, like they were pulling teeth just to get the words out, “you weren’t that bad of a partner.”

you blinked, turning your head sharply to look at them, unsure if you had heard them correctly. the very same person who had spent the last two weeks criticizing every little thing you did, was actually complimenting you?

“wait, what?” you said, your voice dripping with incredulity. “did you just say something nice to me? are you feeling okay?”

C rolled their eyes, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of their lips. “don’t get too excited. i’m just saying… you didn’t completely screw it up.”

you couldn’t help but let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “wow, high praise coming from you. if this was a real baby, it would probably be dead by now with the way we handled things.”

C chuckled softly, the sound catching you off guard. it wasn’t their usual arrogant laugh, the one that always made you want to punch them. this was different—quieter, more genuine. they shrugged, their shoulders relaxed as they glanced at you.

“yeah, maybe. but…” they hesitated for a second, their pale green eyes flickering to yours before quickly looking away. “i wouldn’t have asked for another partner.”

the words hit you like a slow-motion realization, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite process what they had just said. you stared at them, mouth slightly open, completely taken aback.

before you could ask what them meant, they were already walking off, their long strides taking them down the hallway.

“good luck for your practice,” they tossed over their shoulder, their voice casual, as if they hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on you.

you stood there, frozen in place, your mind racing to make sense of it. what did they mean by that? were they actually being sincere? and why did they say it like it wasn’t a big deal?

the hallway felt suddenly quieter, the distant chatter of other students fading into the background as you tried to wrap your head around what just happened. your heart was pounding a little faster, and you felt an unfamiliar warmth creeping up your neck.

why the hell am i getting flustered over this? you thought, shaking your head as if that would clear the confusion.

you let out a slow breath, your mind replaying C’s words: i wouldn’t have asked for another partner.

why did that make your heart skip a beat? this was C—the same person who had criticized every little thing you did, the one who would normally rather die than give you a compliment. and yet, here you were, feeling oddly flattered and confused.

you were about to turn and head toward the gym lockers to get your hockey gears for practice when you realized your hands were still clenching the care guide from the project. you looked down at it, then back at the direction C had walked off in, their figure now disappearing around a corner.

a small, involuntarily giddy smile crept onto your face.

maybe they weren’t that bad of a partner either.

[adioringhamzah]

love off duty

when a famous model and hamzah fall in love, but they have to keep it hidden from their fans (sfw)

a.n : y/n is basically what i crave to be so a skinny model but it doesn't really impact the story (i imagine her with candice swanepoel's body basically)

you stand there absolutely still in your black skinny jeans and tight tank top while some random people are staring at you from all sides. you feel vulnerable, feeling all eyes on your body while they say comments here and there.

thankfully, it's finally done, and you get the good news you hoped for : you're the new gucci model, you contain yourself from jumping of excitement.

you thank them graciously, trying to keep your composure and head out, a little sad seeing all the other models that you know won't be scouted.

you open the building's door, feeling the fresh air on your bare face, and there you see him.

your boyfriend hamzah.

you laugh a little, seeing him dressed in his fake gucci ensemble and jump in his arms. you love how supportive he is, the chances you got casted were as slim as your waist, but he still took the time to wait for you.

it feels nice to be able to kiss him all you want in public, none of you really wanted to make your relationship known to the public : you're too busy with all your modeling gigs and hamzah is scared he'll get hate. not because of your looks, obviously : he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever. but because of his fanbase, that was a little too used to bachelor hamzah.

you stopped kissing him, and he drove you home. you love your shared house. when you first moved in, you were a little taken aback by all the ai photos of him but very happily surprised when you saw the custom collage hamzah had made of you. it was filled with pictures from you on the runway and from different magazines.

as soon as you enter, you rush to take your clothes off and change into the cutest burgundy flowy dress. putting on makeup, you see hamzah in the mirror, putting on a classy shirt and pants. you basically drool over how yummy he looks, but contain yourself.

he doesn't, though, and starts kissing you all over your neck, the kisses becoming more and more intense, soon resulting in a hickey. you get a little annoyed, but you kinda loved how he was marking you.

not bothering yourself any more you both left and drove all the way to a fancy restaurant where hamzah made a reservation.

as soon as you step out of the car to give it to the valet you spot a few cameras down the street, "shit" you thought to yourself, you tell hamzah to go in first and you'll join him in just a few minutes just so you don't make an entrance together.

you stand there alone, checking your insta notifications, 99+ new ones, you check to see your story about getting scouted for gucci got 100k likes. you smile to yourself, and just as you thought, you see 5 paparazzis approaching you, "y/n, y/n, are you happy to become a gucci model??" they basically scream, and you nod.

you hurriedly make your way to the entrance, waving to the cameras and spotting your boyfriend at a table. you make your way there and sit down while telling him about all the paparazzis.

he smiles.

you know he loves having a model girlfriend. he's obsessed with your long legs (especially when they're choking him) and your perky boobs. he adores looking up photos of you from the runway or from some red carpets you get invited to, he even has a pinterest board of you, which you find endearing.

sadly, you know he sometimes feels a little self-conscious next to you, but you're quick to reassure him that you find him beautiful. you really do. when you first saw him on youtube, you had the biggest crush on him, and you were ecstatic when he dmed you telling you how pretty you are.

"i love having a trophy girlfriend" he says in an amused tone. you chuckle, your cheeks turning pink from the compliment.

the restaurant was amazing, you don't really go to public places together but this was such a good experience and thankfully no one photographed you together.

you come home both absolutely exhausted and jump into bed, falling asleep in seconds.

you're awoken by the smell of pancakes and matcha. you join your boyfriend in the kitchen while he pours the juice into two glasses.

you check your phone as usual but get a little shocked by your number of notifs, a little higher than usual. and there you see it, a picture of you, your face zoomed in, the light shining on your fresh hickey.

all the comments are speculating about a potential boyfriend, and you get a little panicked.

hamzah asks you why you look this shocked and you show him the photo. he sighs, but you see his lips resisting the urge to smile, probably a little happy about pictures of you all over instagram with his hickey on you.

[archangeldyke-all]

fake dating sevika? obviously leading to real marriage cuz duh 🙄

how have i not done this trope yet? i love it

men and minors dni

you and sevika are friendly. you wouldn't go as far as saying you're friends, but you get along pretty well with your neighbor. that is-- when you see her. she's usually at work but from time to time, you both end up on the fire escape that connects your back windows at the same time, the two of you smoking together after a long day.

on occasion, she shares a cigar with you. you always share your weed with her-- giggling at the way her eyes get heavy and pink as she smokes. you've even shared a few late-night dinners-- just a bag of pretzels and a six pack of ale, but it's still nice.

despite the nice few nice nights you've shared, that's as far as your tentative acquaintanceship has ever gone. which is why you're a little surprised to find sevika at your front door as you get ready to head out to the markets.

"sevika?" you ask. she blinks in surprise, dropping her hand that she'd been ready to knock with.

"uh. hi." she grunts. she's not looking at you, her head is ducked and she's scrubbing the back of her neck. you're a little worried for her.

"you okay?" you ask. sevika sighs a long, gusty sigh, then looks up at you with a wince.

"i need a favor." she grumbles. you raise an eyebrow, curious. sevika groans again, and you giggle.

"come in." you invite her into your apartment, nodding her toward your couch as you grab a beer from the fridge for her. she takes it, nodding at you in thanks. you clink your glasses together, both of you taking a few sips as you settle on the sofa beside her. "so?" you ask. sevika huffs again.

"you know i work for silco, right?" she asks. you snort and nod.

"yes, i'm aware." you bite back the urge to tack on 'so is everyone else in zaun.'

"well..." she trails off, staring at the floor, before shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "basically, we gotta go up to piltover for a fancy-fuck dinner, but they won't let silco bring anyone from his crew besides me. so..." she sighs.

"so what?"

"the whole reason we're going to the fucking dinner in the first place is to get a good look at what the topsiders are cooking up as their own shimmer variants. we can't distract the pilties, and gather intel with just the two of us." she looks up at you, waiting for you to respond like she's somehow revealed the favor she needs.

"...okay?" you ask.

sevika groans, then slumps against your couch. "i need a date." she huffs. you raise an eyebrow.

"i'm pretty sure the girls from babette's--"

"no!" she squeals. you chuckle a little. "these people-- they can sniff out a sump-rat from a mile away. they're already nervous about letting silco bring me along. i need to bring someone..." she pauses and chugs the remainder of her beer, swallows a burp, then speaks again. "you're, like. sweet, y'know?" she whispers. you blink. "you're easy to talk to. you could charm the pants off anyone: zaun gangster like me or piltover elites."

warmth bubbles up in your stomach at her words, a soft smile pulling at your lips. "you think so?" you ask. sevika groans and rolls her eyes.

"fuck off. just: will you be my fake date to this dumbass dinner or not?" she asks. you grin.

"well, what do i get outta it?" you tease. of course you're going to say yes, especially after all the soft things sevika just said to you.

sevika scoffs a bit, smiling back at you. "topsider food for a night?" she bribes. "good wine?"

you snort, then reach your hand out between the two of you for sevika to take. she does, and you're surprised at how warm and firm her grip is. "deal." you agree.

the entire trip up to piltover, sevika's scowling and huffing, bitching to silco any chance she can get about the fact that he's dragging her up top. you find it endlessly amusing.

but the moment you enter the mansion, sevika's attitude does a complete 180. it's impressive to see. her pleasant smile, while fake, is just as pretty as all the quick smirks she's shot you on the balcony as you pass a joint back and forth.

she also starts touching you. at first, it's tentative; a gentle hand on the waist or small of your back; but as you relax into her touch and start touching her back, her touches become mindless.

as you sip on drinks and laugh politely at the rich-people humor you can't understand for the life of you, sevika slings her arm around your shoulders, pulling you toward her chest.

when you're two drinks in, she presses a kiss to the crown of your head. she turns her head to whisper against your ear, "regretting your decision yet?"

you have to bite back the shaky moan you want to let out at the feeling of her breath on your neck.

you end up drinking more than you probably should. sevika's always been attractive to you, but you've never acted on it. you're neighbors, sevika's pre-occupied with work and her girls, you don't want to make things weird. but it's hard to ignore how handsome she looks in her suit when she's staring at you with a strangely convincing admiring-gaze, her mech thumb gently sweeping across the back of your hand.

the wine loosens you up, all your jitters and nerves about being surrounded by wealth melting away with each sip of your glass. the guests find you endlessly entertaining once you start talking: your radical undercity politics softened by the docile way you're leaning against sevika and your slurred words.

you get into a few debates. silco seems impressed with your knowledge of zaun's history, his good eyebrow ticking up with interest as you berate a man who suggested piltoverian taxes shouldn't be funding any zaunite public systems.

you charm a few of the wives, complimenting the appetizers and asking for the recipes, helping clear empty dishes and glasses to the kitchen.

you even make friends with the violinist that's been hired to play music for the night, complimenting her music taste and requesting a few songs that make her grin. "nobody asks for that one, but it's so fun to play, it's my favorite!"

sevika has to keep hiding her cocky smile behind her hand as she watches you work.

dinner is delicious. you're wiggling in your seat with excitement as you tear into the fresh food: a rare delight for you. beside you, sevika keeps laughing as she watches you eat. "you're an animal." she giggles.

"you gonna need anymore dates up here in the future?" you ask around a mouthful of food, hiding your full mouth with your hand. sevika grins.

"we'll see what happens." she chuckles.

by the end of the night, sevika has to help keep you steady as you sway on your feet, laughing and jogging down the streets of piltover while sevika and silco trail behind you.

"i quite like her." you overhear silco mumble at some point. then,

"yeah, me too." sevika replies.

she doesn't kiss you goodnight. you're almost disappointed, until you remember that this wasn't a real date. you stand in your doorway awkwardly, shimmying out of the suit jacket she'd slung over your shoulders on the walk home and handing it back to her, trying to find something to say.

"uh. this was really fun." you whisper. sevika smiles.

"it was. i knew you'd be a good fake girlfriend."

you giggle a bit, something strange flopping over in your stomach at the reminder that tonight was fake. "you're not so bad yourself, you know." you whisper. sevika blinks at you with big eyes, but doesn't say anything. "anyways. was i a good distraction?" you ask. she grins.

"oh, yeah. you had those pilties wrapped around your finger-- i was gone for thirty fuckin' minutes and they didn't even bat an eye." she says, giggling. you smile.

"i'm glad i could help." you laugh. "if you ever need another fake date..."

"you'll be my first choice." sevika promises.

you gulp. this is the point of the night where you turn around and go into your apartment, watch through the peephole as sevika goes in hers, then go to bed. but... you linger.

sevika lingers too.

you decide to just go for it. you're drunk off good wine, full off good food, and... she looks so fucking pretty that the choice isn't all that hard to make. "or, you know. i'd say yes to a real date too."

it's quiet for a horrifying moment, sevika's eyes widening as they study your face, like she's trying to figure out if you're joking. you're about to laugh it off-- already planning on breaking your lease early so you can move out of this building before you ever have to see her again-- when sevika grins.

"a real date with me wouldn't be as classy as tonight was." sevika says. you bite your lip.

"that's okay. tonight was fun, but it was... a lot." you mumble. sevika giggles, a sweet sound, and your stomach flip-flops.

"how does take-out from jericho's at my place sound?" she asks.

it's your turn to grin. "fuckin' amazing." you say. sevika laughs.

"tomorrow?"

"sure. or, we could go now?" you suggest. "jericho's is open all ni--"

you're cut off by sevika's lips. she crowds you to your front door, pressing her chest against yours. you hum into her mouth, and she hums back.

eventually, she pulls away for air. "i've been wanting to do that forever." she gasps.

you giggle, and pull her back in for another kiss. "me too." you mumble before your lips meet.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[eggcats]

I really need to figure out a name for the "Alastor just thinks his own thoughts about Vox are universal and has not had a single question since" AU tbh, bc they've taken over my mind atm and I need something to easily tag it without clogging the main tags

Because I'm just imagining, like, Alastor unintentionally doing a lot of the same shit that Valentino did to Vox when they dated, except the way Alastor does it just makes Vox feel more confident in himself and their (totally fake and for clout) relationship - especially because Alastor's not even doing it on purpose

Like, I need them to be this:

Except instead of buffalo chicken dip, it's definitely a random sinner who insulted Vox within Alastor's earshot. He's still eating them alone, on the floor, and covered in blood, though. The room is now a bloodbath, and they're banned from ever going back.

(When he sees Vox, he offers him the best parts - Vox (obviously) says no but he's spent enough time with Alastor to know the parts he's being offered are Alastor's favorites to eat so he's extremely charmed and flattered, lol).

Either that, or Alastor had a sip too much of whiskey and Vox was in the bathroom so long Alastor thought he left, so Alastor just took over the music and is by himself doing the Charleston. Alastor immediately grabs him and makes him dance the second he sees Vox. Alastor ALSO insults his dancing the entire time.

I just need an Alastor who just refuses to even consider that it might just be HIM who is attracted to Vox and insists he's definitely dating Vox to make the rest of hell jealous, but still (even not knowing a single thing about dating or relationships) being a better partner to Vox just by sheer virtue of thinking Vox is a catch.

Very much their energy needs to be:

Vox: *realizes he's lost Alastor at the bar they went to together* Great, it's fucking Val all over again.

Alastor: *currently eating someone for implying they don't find Vox attractive* Darling, I was just taking out the trash! Imagine being so stupid to not even REALIZE how they feel about you!

Vox, holding his screen in his hands: Yes. Imagine that.

[faithsxoxo]

pairings :: rachel amber x reader x chloe price warnings :: ridiculous amounts of fluff note :: @sm1lt hope u enjoy <33

they're completely infatuated with you, obviously

they both feel like they have issues, but you're the light of their lives

they would worship you, but especially chloe. we all know she doesn't have the best temper, but being around you just shuts her down. she could be fuming after a long day and all she needs is to wrap her arms around you

rachel is sort of a special case. of course, she's usually the beloved one. i mean, she's chloe's angel - but often she feels like she needs to pretend. she's a 'human chameleon', but never around you two. you and chloe bring out the best in her, the side of her where she doesn't have to fake it. she can show anything and she knows you'll both shower her in love

chloe generally needs gentle loving. that's when she'll come to you. of course she needs rachel, but sometimes she's more intense then chloe needs. she has her moments when she gets insecure and wonders how you both could possibly love her, where you'll have to reassure her. her love language is physical touch, so the best way to comfort her is to hold her while she talks

rachel's love language is words of affirmation. she'll completely melt when you compliment her, or if you whisper all your feelings about her as you lay together. she loves feeling loved, and you telling her how beautiful she is fufills that need. you and chloe take advantage of this often, and get into joke battles of who can compliment her the most. chloe being as competitive as the is will end up exaggerating to the point of ridiculousness, leaving rachel flustered and both of you giggling.

every moment turns into a sweet moment when you're all together. whether you're blazed in chloe's bedroom, running the length of the beach, or stuffing your faces at the two whales diner you always end up soaking in eachothers presence. you all love eachother so much, and genuinely everyone can tell

speaking of the two whales, joyce absolutely adores you both. all she knows is that you and rachel make chloe happy, and thats all she needs. often enough you find yourself waking up to her calling up the staircase for breakfast, a aroma of fried diner food wafting up from the kitchen. chloe will fight to stay in bed, but you'll all end up at the kitchen table anyway

rachel's parents might take a little more coming around to, but they end up liking you anyway. they think you're respectable, certainly more than they think of chloe. plus, they've never seen their little girl's eyes light up more than when she sees you, so they wouldn't want to get in between her happiness.

adventures are a must, of course. no matter what kind of student you were previously, these two could coerce you into skipping class to wander the towns with them. since chloe has her truck, the three of you can pretty much go anywhere. you explore anywhere possible. if you get in trouble at school, they immediately take the blame. it was likely their idea, so they would give up anything for you

most nights end with all of you together; either camped out in your dorm, rachel's house, or chloe's house. you're consistently trapped in a sandwich between them, arms and legs all curled together. good luck trying to squeeze out of that in the morning, because they'll just grip you tighter