#i don’t think there’s anyone out there that understands this rambling

[viiolyns]

it’s your first time ..

cw / g!p vi. softdom!vi. no protection. praise. lwk inexperienced reader? that’s all me thinks

you straddled her lap, her hard dick covering the front of your cunt. you’d been like this for the past 15 minutes, rambling about random bullshit, trying to distract yourself from the fact that the two of you should be fucking right now.

the nervousness building up in you was evident, clear as day. while you’d never taken her before, it wasn’t for a lack of her asking. whenever she brought it up, you’d shift the conversation or deflect, not feeling ready. sometimes you’d even tell her you were ready, then back out. which she didn’t mind, never did. jerking off after sex never hurt anyone.

but tonight. fuck. you needed her.

she puts a finger over your lips, making you shut up for a second. with her free hand, she takes a hold to your chin, sensing your hesitation. “baby. you can say no, again, really—no need to…you don’t have to.”

you shook your head at her words, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to compose yourself. you wanted it, really you did, but you were just scared. stupid nerves.

her hands found your hips, gripping the soft skin there. "c’mon, honey," she said softly, her voice soothing. "i’ll help you." she raised your hips up, gently aligning your entrance just above her. “if you want me to stop, you tell me, okay?" you nodded, before she gently prompted you, "words."

"i’ll—okay, i'll tell you," you respond, her nodding in understanding before she drags her swollen head in between your lips, gliding her length back and forth to get it wet enough before slowly pushing you down onto her. you wince at the burn, stings of whimpers and curses leaving your lips.

“it’s okay, pretty, i got you. go slow, don’t rush it,” she reassures, rubbing firm circles into your clit with her thumb; relaxing you until you take all of her.

and when she finally sheathes, you just sit there, on her dick; getting yourself used to the feeling, your forehead resting against hers. eventually you begin to grind, earning some words of praise from your girlfriend. "thereeee you go, good girl. just grind like that, mhm."

vi's getting an eyeful, an image she'll be committing to memory. she's grinning; hands still resting on either side of you, ever so often grinding along with you, making you impossibly wetter. you could do this all night, probably cum from this alone, but fuck. "i need to..to move."

without hesitation, her hands moved down to your ass, helping you glide up and forcing you back down; her tip brushing against your g-spot. “oh, that’s feels good. feels s’good,” you slurred. eventually, you picked up the pace; fully bouncing on her now, giving her a show, your breasts bouncing along with you.

mindlessly she pulls your upper half forward, mouth latching onto your left tit, sucking and moaning into it as a hand comes up to massage the other, rolling the sensitive bud in between her fingers.

"so goooooddd—shit." you whimpered at the extra stimulation.

"so fucking beautiful," she muttered into your chest, happy to finally see her girl in this light. she detached from you with pop, her gaze going back and forth from your face to your cunt, reveling in the way you swallowed her. "love this pussy—fuck—she’s taking me so well."

your moans got louder at her words, lurching forward and hiding your face in the crook of her neck, your breath warming the skin there. you're slowing down now, whatever stamina you had left diminishing at a quick pace. vi notices, grabbing your ass and fucking you from beneath; taking full control now.

“faster,” you damn near whine, “go—go faster, please.” she obliges, her movements getting impossibly quicker. the sound of her balls slapping against your ass filling the room. it was damn near pornographic. “vi, i’m close.”

"yeah?" you could tell she was close too, just by the change of tone, all whiney and needy. the undeniable hunger in her voice. you nod frantically, your hand coming down to rub your clit, trying to match the pace she was fucking you at.

“i’m gonna cum.”

“i know, baby,” she moaned, “where you want it?”

“inside. inside, please. want you to fill me up.” you exclaimed as the tension in your stomach clenched, reaching higher and higher until you finally came with a cry of her name. vi wasn’t far behind, just seconds later her dick twitched relentlessly; the warmth of her seed filling your cunt.

she pressed a kiss to your head before repositioning you to be right on top of her, skin to skin, her dick softening inside of you. “was it good?”

you scoffed as if she didn’t already know the answer, already drifting off into sleep, “fucking amazing.”

[delugyu]

soooo i had a thought, who do you think best fits an exes au? 🎤

astrology anon btw also i saw that c3 pt2 is coming i’m going to die

AHHHHH!!!!! great question. i’m a lunatic so i am envisioning something for each member

yeonjun - staying as friends after breaking up w him, which works fine at first but eventually he starts missing the way things were. friendship isn’t enough anymore but he doesn’t have the guts to say anything cause he doesn’t want to know that you’re moving on. lots of silent pining until he feels suffocated by unexpressed emotion, then he’s rambling about how breaking up was a mistake that he regrets every day, he loves you and thinks about you more now than ever before, and he needs you to know this even if you don’t feel the same.

soobin - THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY!!! he’s the one i see most fitting for the exes trope… he’s the kind of person who never really leaves you, even when he’s gone he still lingers in your mind as a constant buzz. you see him again by chance and you can’t let the opportunity pass, and u find out he never really wanted to leave in the first place. reconnecting and being able to understand each other better now, more mature than you were back then, able to see now that your future was always him. he would have never dated anyone again, he would have spent a lifetime waiting for you, but he’s glad he didn’t have to wait quite that long.

beomgyu - the break up was mutual, but beomgyu realizes when he sees you dating some other guy that he wasn’t over you as much as he thought he was. the dude’s a prick, what on earth could you possibly see in him!!? beomgyu was literally better in every single way, he’s sure of it. he even texts you to make sure you’re actually you and not some alien clone of yourself, cause he’s so sure you’d never stoop this low. he wasn’t a jealous person in the relationship, but he sees red every time you walk across campus with that asshole on your arm. he should probably do something about this. yeah, fuck it. he’s going up to you.

taehyun - he will become your enemy once u break up… he doesn’t spare you a single glance anymore, refuses to talk to you, drops contact with all your mutual friends who took your side. his friends get the real story though: he’s a mess without you. he’s not sleeping the same, he’s drowning the pain with whatever routes of escapism he has access to. he can’t stand that you’re not miserable without him, but he doesn’t dare talk to u about it, cause that would mean he lost the break up. it gets to the point where one of his friends comes to you like “hey. can u talk to taehyun. he’s kinda going through it.” and you’re confused asf cause you thought he hated you now

kai - the one to try desperately to win u back, coming to your front door with apologies and a tender heart and red eyes from crying all night. you broke up with him yesterday, and you thought it was best for the two of you to go no contact, but clearly he thinks otherwise. there’s no hard feelings, you just wanted different things from the relationship. with him pleading at your door in the middle of the night, ready to do anything to get you back, you’d feel bad to not at least let him sleep here for the night. okay, maybe a part of it is also that you’re missing him too.

[welcome-to-green-hills]

what are your head canons of Shadow and Commander Walters

Hello, my dear❤️✨

I must be honest, I don’t know if I necessarily have any headcanons for the two. I know that I’ve received this ask before (it was a WIP), but I can’t really say that I have a bunch.

If anything, I think that Walters was an observer. He absolutely had an idea of what Shadow was capable of, but he didn’t engage. Walters knew that Shadow cared for Maria tremendously. That’s enough for him to know that he’s not dangerous. I can see him observing interactions with Shadow and Maria a lot, ergo coming to the conclusion that Shadow is just as much as a child as Maria was. I can also see Maria being the well known between the two with the other soldiers. Remember: Shadow is afraid of the scientists and GUN soldiers just as much as they are of him. And because of being viewed as “dangerous,” I don’t see him really reaching out to anyone. I mean, I wouldn’t either if I was in his situation. I’d only trust Maria.

Now, you and I both know that Shadow knows of Walter’s existence. He knows his name and occupation and ranking. Shadow’s fully aware of who he is. There’s some knowledge. If Walters didn’t mess with him in the bunker, then Shadow might have been neutral about him. There was an understanding that Shadow is a lost child. Shadow was innocent in the raid at the bunker.

Which is why Shadow panicking and begging to be taken out. That look was his final straw. He thought that he knew Walters better than that. He thought that for a guy who only observed knew him well enough to know that he’s wasn’t a threat.

… Jesus I went on a ramble here for a request for a headcanon.

[storiesofaot]

Short Ramble: I came across @creativepromptsforwriting 's prompt list for February earlier today, and I ended up impulsively writing something for today's prompt. I might try and do a few of them (of varying length) since the list does look very intriguing, but we'll see how it goes. Writing has been a bit slow lately, maybe this will help? Okay, ramble is over.

Letters With Levi

Day 1: Love Letters

Rating: G

Word Count: 982

High-School AU. It doesn't really matter, but I imagined this being set in like 2007-ish.

It had all started three weeks ago, when he and Hange were paired up for a book review project. She had been very enthusiastic about the novel they’d received, while he hadn’t been able to muster much motivation for the task. But, as expected, she had been the driving force behind their project, and to his surprise, they were done well ahead of time, leaving them with an entire period free and with nothing to do.

These weren’t love letters. That’s what Levi told himself over and over. He unfolded the piece of paper Mike had just pushed toward him and started reading whatever she had scribbled on the note. They were just letters.

It was during those forty-five minutes that they started talking more intensely. She was the new student, having moved to the small town he lived in just a couple of months ago. He had mostly observed her from afar, her outgoing and jittery nature making it difficult for him to connect with her. But apart from the bits and pieces he had noticed, he hadn’t really known much about her. That all changed on that Monday morning.

During their work-free lesson, she shared all her thoughts, likes, and quirks with him, and somehow managed to worm a lot of personal information out of him in return. He didn’t understand how she did it, but he ended up sharing things he’d never told anyone before.

They were in the middle of discussing a movie they had both recently watched when their English teacher announced it was time for everyone’s presentations, which meant Levi had to move back to his seat, two rows behind her.

“I’ll write you a note. We can’t just leave this hanging,” Hange said as he stood up, waving a piece of paper in the air. When he nodded silently, she gave him a smile that made his fifteen-year-old heart stumble in a way it never had before.

As soon as the first pair stood in front of the class, Mike leant backwards and dropped a folded piece of paper into his lap. Luckily, their teacher was focused on the talking students, so Levi had all the time he needed to read through the note and reply.

That was how Mike became their message-bearer. But most importantly, it was the start of a series of passed-along notes, a routine that would continue throughout the coming weeks.

“I really liked our conversation!” Hange said at the end of the lesson, catching him at the door. “We should do that more often, don’t you think?”

He didn’t know how to reply to that, so once again, he simply nodded and wordlessly handed her their sheet of paper. As if to say, Just reach out whenever you’d like. He didn’t expect it, but she seemed to understand what he meant and laughed. And to his delight, she not only safely stored away their note but also asked him if he wanted to have lunch with her.

The following day, she sent him another note, this time during their biology lesson. She wrote about wanting to collect their little papers and mentioned she had thought of calling the series Notes with Levi. “But with the amount of text I’m writing, these aren’t just notes anymore. So I’d say Letters with Levi is a better name, don’t you think?”

It took him every ounce of willpower not to smile at that. Was he becoming a little too invested in their interactions already? He wasn’t sure he'd ever felt this way about something so... simple before.

By the end of the week, those notes had become a daily routine, and he caught himself looking forward to each class he had with her.

“Seems like you’ve got yourself a girlfriend,” Mike teased him as they walked home after school had ended on Friday afternoon. Levi shot him an annoyed glance and ignored the comment, but of course, his friend didn’t let up on him.

“I hadn’t pegged you as the romantic type, writing love letters and all that,” Mike continued, nudging his arm playfully. “But hey, it suits you. Quiet teenager who writes cheesy but deep letters to his lover. Should be a trope.”

“Shut up,” Levi grumbled, shoving his shoulder against his friend with enough force to make Mike stumble and nearly walk into a streetlamp.

That was the first time he connected his written conversations with Hange to love letters, and his ears immediately turned bright red.

Those weren’t love letters, he told himself after saying goodbye to Mike. It wasn’t even love. They were just… friends.

That was the thought he kept repeating to himself over the next two weeks, both during their written conversations and their chats at lunch. She always seemed to be around whenever she could, and without realising it, he found himself looking out for her as soon as recess started.

No, they weren’t love letters, he reminded himself once again three weeks later as he read her response to his question, already thinking about what to write back. But when he reached the last paragraph of her letter—a phone number with a few words written underneath—he couldn't help but wonder if, at some point, it might actually turn into that.

“I thought we could continue our conversations over the weekend, if you’d like. You can text me, or, you know, we could talk on the phone. I’d really like that, it’s so quiet without you. So, if you’re free and want to, just give me a call."

It took him a lot of effort to push past his nervousness, but on Saturday afternoon, he called her for the first time. He’d never forget the excitement in her voice when she recognised him, and how it made his heart trip over itself again.

And that was how Letters with Levi turned into Phone Calls with Levi.

[trashhole]

Getting back into my omniscient reader viewpoint brainrot and realizing how similar joongdok and starbee are like…I certainly have a ship type I guess. I think starscream would totally toss bee into a serpent mouth if he thought bee was going to oppose him back in rid. Hardcore enemies to lovers is so fun to me like how’d you go from trying to murder this dude to deciding he’s worth losing everything for???? I also really like that bee and dokja read yjh/starscream so well and call them out on their self destructive behavior while everyone else is like “what a power hungry asshole”

Anyway I don’t think anyone in the world knows what I’m on about considering orv and tf are like…completely different media but I had to get it out. I love enemies to lovers toxic middle aged man yuri where the stakes are “if you fail your planet gets destroyed and your species will be obliterated” and also there’s lesbians who kick ass but never actually get together because the plot said so…oh yeah and kdj and bee dying/being dead for half the plot, constant fighting, yjh and star being thirsted over, good ass art, yeah it’s no wonder I’ve liked these two ships for so long 😭

Dkos bumblebee would rock my shit though and regular starscream vs a 999yjh starscream would be such a fun concept like imagining bee being like wow this guy is such a gentleman! And starscream is just glaring daggers at this refined version of him bee is all over…god my head is spinning fr rn. It would’ve extra fun because starscream has a need to be the best yjh doesn’t have so he’d be trying so hard to one up 999 starscream 😭

[edwinisms]

it’s actually so wild to me that this fairly quirky YA type show gave both of its main characters deaths that can, in one way or another, solidly be considered hate crimes. they were both flat out murdered as a result of being A) gay and effeminate or B) brown (south asian, specifically) and you could argue whether or not those kids thought of it that way in the moment or whatever but the bottom line is that they would not have been in the situations that killed them if they weren’t of their respective minorities. like legitimately that is a ballsy choice for this kind of netflix show, let alone for the two Main Characters, and i respect it big time

[chinacatmoonflower]

i love everyone so much but i do not know how to be a friend :(

[quibbs126]

I’m finding myself intrigued by the concept of how a Transformer’s alt mode may affect them on a personal level

I’m not sure if what I said makes sense, let me try to give examples

What I mean is like…

Shit I don’t know how to explain myself other than the concept of a Transformer not liking their alt mode and wishing they had a different one

I think it does depend on whether or not Cybertronians choose their alt mode, and if literally any option is available to them before doing so, or if they have a pre-set kind of alt mode when they’re first created, and can only really change their alt mode to something with a similar build

Also I feel like this concept I want explored is just Functionism and how it affects Cybertronians, especially when I’m thinking of it outside of just that one concept I listed above. And I assume this is covered a fair bit in the comics

But like, I don’t feel like I see much of it in the shows (at least as far as I’ve seen). Which is personally my preferred/default way of consuming the series, hence why I want to see it there. And I don’t just mean how it shows a corrupt pre-war Cybertron, but how it affects them individually, or how the influence of Functionism still affects them so long after

Crap, I’ve said the same thing like, three times now and all in the same way. I’m trying to say it in a variation that explains more of what I want, but it’s not verbalizing in my brain properly so I just end up repeating myself. I do mean in more ways, I just don’t know how to say them

I feel like this post is becoming incoherent, and reads very much like a flow of my brain thoughts, in part because that’s what it is, just not as polished as when I usually do it. But do you get what I’m saying?

[dancing-with-stars]

guys. guys !!!!

[hplonesomeart]

I don’t get it, why do I struggle so much with being outspoken? Sharing my interests with others? Being HAPPY. I feel awful for doing nothing productive on my last day before school. I feel like I did nothing with myself and wasted my potential (even though I know it’s a lie). I don’t know if my mental health is improving. I don’t know if my self image is who I want to be anymore

Every time I think I’m able to reach out to others I start to get anxiety again. And I start to filter myself through the lens of every person who ever perceived me. Thinking I’m going to mess up and they’ll hate me. Thinking I’m not thoughtful or honest enough. Thinking I’ve been lying to them somehow by not sharing certain aspects of myself?

I don’t know why I’m scared of the unknown. I want to enjoy each day and not worry about the future. Or worry about failing school. Or disappointing others based on their expectations. I don’t want to be viewed as incompetent for not engaging with reality. Because I enjoy the comfort of fantasy and creativity, but have I trapped myself in escapism for too long? Is that why reality feels so bleak? Do I want to cry about it, or would it be pointless to?

What matters to me anymore? I’m feeling hopeless and I don’t even know why. I don’t want to accept the future, growing up, risking failure and risking being alone. I just want things to be simple again and not feel like I’m gonna ruin my life somehow. I don’t want responsibility, but I’m also tired of feeling lazy and fatigued and depressed. I want to contribute and achieve things in “the real world”, inspire people and give them laughter, but I’m afraid

What if I don’t do enough? What if living in America is just about working your life away to get money and live comfortably before you die? What if I’m too scared to achieve things and end up doing nothing with myself? Are the best of my years gone already? Is it all downhill from here as the people I love leave me and die?

I don’t even know how to be vulnerable. All I do is talk to myself, circling around the same issues over and over again. When the therapist asks “how have you been” I respond indifferently. I like to think I’ve gotten better at sharing things. But when push comes to shove, I prioritize others opinions over my own. I mold myself to be complacent and to be what they need me to be. I limit myself because I’m terribly self conscious. So I hide my thoughts, my interests, and whatever else seems personal to me

I give encouragement to others in the only way I know how…by showing up, being polite and listening, and forcing myself to be positive. When all I really want to do is be pessimistic and take everything as a joke. It gets tiring putting on this facade where my words feel forced and unauthentic. I know I’m doing the right thing by being nice and supportive…but when depression makes you emotionally numb it feels like your words are cheap. You don’t actually care. I’m just a spectator in my own life

Because you know what? It gets increasingly difficult to live carefree when your overly aware of your friends issues. And your family’s issues. And your own issues. And worldwide issues that have remained prevalent without any signs of change. And that’s the reality I have to deal with. I don’t want to deal with that shit. Maybe that’s why I enjoy fantasy, fandoms, fiction, escapism. Because none of that matters once you distance yourself. Once you loose the ability to care

But I’m scared of becoming bitter. Voicing my words and hearing how awfully petty they sound. Sharing publicly on the internet (and in person) a pessimistic side of me which I have always keep locked away. Actually being openly vulnerable and admitting “yeah I’m not doing so good”

I’ve always worried that if I spoke negatively, it would bring others down? Or it would be nonsensical and pointless in the grand scheme of things. Like why complain when you have a good life. It makes me seem self centered and bratty, thinking my issues are important to voice. There’s too much noise in this world already, especially on the internet. People don’t know how to shut up. There’s always controversial opinions and heated arguments, constant battles of conflict and restlessness. Sometimes it’s too much. And that’s why I keep silent, why I reblog things instead of post my own thoughts. Not only because vulnerability is hard for me, but also because I’m worried how my words will be used against me. Or that I’ll unintentionally draw unwanted attention. And I worry I’ve already shared too much and put myself at risk of being criticized, doxxed, and put in harms way. I don’t want to dump my issues on others. Making myself seem inconsiderate is the last thing I’d ever want

But truth is, I’ve kept too much inside. I’ve acted ‘fine’ for too long and I’m finally snapping. I can’t stay silent anymore, I can’t keep talking to myself. I need to share who I am, and that means sharing what I’m going through. No further sugar coating or concealing things vaguely. This is me right now, and I have no doubts things will improve in the future. I’ll get better mentally. But as of now, this is me. And there’s no shame in it

[designernishiki]

hot take (aka headcanon) but I kinda think that nishiki and kiryu’s relationship pre-split wasn’t on both sides platonic/familial or fully romantic; I feel like nishiki had a thing for him (not sure if he fully realized it though) and that he had developed feelings for kiryu over the course of a good long time that were deeply confusing on their own, but even more so considering they would’ve been hard to sort out with what could just be attributed to close friendship or a familial-type bond.

and on the other side of this, kiryu was utterly oblivious and never thought to question what they had as being anything other than a close friendship or familial-type relationship or whatever it was being called out loud (we know kiryu, he’s blunt as hell and takes things at face value– not the best at reading between the lines) hence why the split between them, though both were clearly hurt a ton by it, hit nishiki harder and more acutely– because on top of losing the most important person in his life, which is bad enough, it would’ve crushed any tiny shred of hope he may have had to live out his long-time, perhaps even since-childhood fantasy of being by kiryu’s side forever as his one true confidant, in a more intimate way than as a friend.

[greyswarden]

the fact that jowan really flourishes as a mage when he’s out of the circle and away from ariel. the fact that he turned to blood magic was because he was jealous and felt inadequate as a mage compared to his best friend since childhood. ouuuuughhhhh

[readwritealldayallnight]

You know the woman in line behind you is getting impatient, hearing her not so subtle exasperated sigh as you continue to search through your bag, your cheeks burning a deeper shade of crimson when you catch the barista’s tight lipped smile in your direction, her attempt at reassuring you as part of her job, though you can tell she wishes you’d hurry up as well

As if your debit card declining a mortifying four times hadn’t been enough, but then your attempt at using your credit card was just as unsuccessful, the sound of the failed transaction on a stupid 6£ drink sounding out for everyone in queue to know how broke you really were

Embarrassment coursing through your veins, already thinking about how you’ll never have the guts to come back to this cafe again as you desperately search for enough spare change at the bottom of your purse to cover this morning’s coffee, your scrambling comes to a pause when a large shadow suddenly eclipses the overheard lighting above you

In the midst of your frantic searching, a tall figure has come to stand just next to you, their gloved hand stretching past your figure to tap a card against the machine, the happy beep of the teller confirming the transaction’s been accepted this time

“I’ve got tha’ for ya.” A deep, gravelly Manchester accent mutters low enough for only you to hear, before the figure tries to retreat back into queue unnoticed

You eyebrows shoot up in shock, the barista equally appearing surprised but not displeased as she finally gets to hand you your drink and quickly wish you a good day before she’s already trying to help the woman waiting behind you

You step aside out of the queue, swinging your head around to try and spot your mystery saviour who stepped in and helped you out without even needing so much as a thanks in return apparently

You spot him instantly, the absolute size of him easily giving him away. No one else in the small cafe could have created such a large, intimidating shadow, let alone spoken in such a deep voice that sent chills down your spine

He stands a head above anyone else in queue, currently last in the line after he stepped out to pay for you. He’s wearing a simple black medical mask on the lower half of his face, a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head offers you only a small glimpse of his eyes, which are noticeably pointed at the ground at the moment

You’re walking towards him before you even realize it

“Th- thank you. I don’t-” You’re cut off when those same eyes glance up to meet your own, stealing your breath away. He seems almost as surprised that you’re speaking to him as you were when he stepped in and paid for you, his eyes betraying his shock for only a fraction of a second before he’s steeling himself and his eyes darken. You get the vague impression that he isn’t someone who’s used to being caught off guard

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.” You say to him, wanting to express just how grateful you are to him for his random act of kindness, but he says nothing in return, hardly blinking once as he simply stares back at you

“I can’t understand why my cards weren’t working today. I promise I don’t like- this isn’t a thing I do. Go into coffee shops and pretend I can’t pay, hoping someone else will…” You awkwardly laugh to yourself, beginning to ramble in an effort to fill in the silence

“Anyways I just, really wanted to say thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re scrambling now, attempting to save face as this man just looks at you, an arm beginning to swing your purse off your shoulder in hopes of maybe finding enough change to appease this guy

“Not necessary.” The deep voice finally says again, his eyes leaving yours to scan you from top to bottom and then back up again, almost examining the sight before him. You almost feel like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, seeing the mask moving along with the sound of that gravelly voice an enrapturing vision

“Oh- well I- I mean that’s really nice of you, but I swear I can pay you back.” You recognize that feeling beginning to swirl low in your stomach, familiar with the warmth gathering in the apples of your cheeks; your body realizing it a split second before your brain catches up. You’re kind of into this guy. You can’t see much of his face, but the sliver you do see certainly isn’t unattractive, his height and build speaks for itself, with a voice like that and the fact that he’s just saved your butt and expected not even a thanks in return, you’re wondering if he’s too good to be true

“Do you come here often?” You’re asking him before you can stop yourself, watching a single one of his eyebrows arching ever so slightly. “I just mean that- I come here a lot- sometimes. And if you’re here next time I’m here, then maybe I can pay you back, buy you a drink.”

You’re losing confidence the longer he stands there, not answering. What were you thinking? This guy was just trying to be nice, get the annoying girl holding up the line out of the way so that people can order their drinks and go about their day, and here you are holding him up even longer-

“If it’ll make ya happy.” He’s suddenly answering, snapping you out of your downward spiral. If you could see the grin that slowly creeps upon your face, you might be otherwise embarrassed, but right now you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Oh okay, amazing. I mean- yeah that would- that would be cool. Okay.” You reply, glancing at your watch. “I’m not sure for you, but um, I’m almost always here each Sunday. Around this time.”

“I’ll be here next Sunday. Around this time.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Next in line please.” The barista at the corner calls out, interrupting the two of you. You glance back to see that it’s now his turn to order, feeling bad that you’re about to hold up the queue yet again.

“Great. I’ll see you Sunday then. Thank you again, seriously. I really owe you one.” You say, gripping the straps of your bag tighter as you offer him a sheepish smile before ducking out of the busy cafe, a small grin playing across your face.

Ghost watches your figure through the large windows as you walk out of the shop, across the street, disappearing into the crowd of morning goers strolling about. Only once he cannot see you anymore, does he walk up to the counter, slipping a 20£ note to the barista along with a slight nod of acknowledgement, before he himself is turning to walk out of the cafe, empty handed, intent on catching up to you from a distance.

~~~~~~~~~~

AKA Ghost has been stalking you for months and finally comes up with a way to have you approach him

[raeofgayshine]

Don’t mind me, I am just going to spend the rest of my life thinking about being told that I’m good at making ideas and creating stories and putting little characters into situations and that my ability to do so and do so quickly is cool and other people like it and want me to keep doing it.

[sbcdh]

“Oh gosh the fire. Yes it was truly a tragedy. You know, HECA79 was the prototype for the new regulation model. Well, haha, new for the time. It was the seventies after all. It really is fascinating. She was the first one we put in the class N tanks. Fascinating technology for the time, clever as the dickens. You see, the insides of the tank were to be lined with a thin layer of magnetically laminated gold calcite particles that formed a reflective lattice under electrical stimulation. A gold plated one-way mirror for brainwaves! I’m sure you understand, it was the best we could do for 1983-”

“So you subscribe to the, uh, equipment malfunction theory?”

“Huh? Oh! Oh. Terribly sorry. Equipment malfunction? As I recall, it functioned quite well.”

“So you believe the fire was caused by something else?”

“The fire? Oh. Well, I’m not quite sure. I don’t know the exact specifications, but if I recall correctly, there were all sorts of firebreaks and engineers and junior-engineers stationed all around –all helmeted, mind you– to make sure that sort of thing never happened.”

“And yet.”

“And yet. Indeed…Well, between you and me, I think It was one of the junior engineers.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes. We were a bit of a maverick bunch back then. Reagan gave us all that research money, but, well, its always a bit different when the wheels hit the pavement haha. Oh. Oh. I hope I haven’t gotten anyone in trouble. They were nice lads all. Well, some of them were Germans, but nice lads.”

“We are more interested in your observations of HECA79. I was told you were able to directly observe her during the incident. If there is anything you can tell us, please, speak loudly enough for the tape to hear.”

“Oh! Oh gosh. You know, I completely forgot we were being taped haha! And you caught all of my rambling! Well, I think I can help you out. Oh yes. Now. You must understand. A good half of this is going to be embellished. You know how memories go, you always get more heroic looking back as time goes on haha. But yes, I think I can help you out. Ah, where should I start?”

“What was the first thing out of the ordinary that you noticed?”

“Her lips were moving.”

“Is that out of the ordinary?”

“By gosh for a plutophant yes! At full emmanation, there is no part of them that is not the market! Every neuron soaked in hypno-amphetamine rocket fuel! Most of them –if you’ll pardon my language sir– shit their tanks the moment their Id touches the sub-finantial background grid! What do you think half those tubes are for! A plutophant in full emmanation doesn’t have a braincell to spare to keep their sphincters closed, much less perform something as complex as speech!”

“I see. Could you make out what the asset was saying?”

“Oh no. No, I’m afraid not. I can’t read lips. Back in those days, they were hooked up to a helmet, and then the helmet read the delta-wave patterns, and then printed that on magnetic tape. That way, we could feed the tape to some lob-, ah translators, and have them interpret the feed.”

“When did her lips start to move? What time of day?”

“Funny thing, almost exactly at 12:03. I should have been off at lunch, but I was procrastinating. I had a crossword I was right on the edge of solving. It was one of those big words that goes all the way across the page. TIMEPIECE. I remember that clear as day.”

“Interesting. I have here that equipment registered the fire almost exactly seven minutes later.”

“Oh dear. Do you understand what that means sir?”

“No, please, enlighten me.”

“Is that a schematic of the N class tank you have there? Hand it over. Thank you sir. So. Back in 1983, we didn’t have any of the fancy digital equipment we have now. Well, we did, but not to the same degree. Most of our equipment was good old analogue. You see this module here? These weren’t part of our system. No, we were waiting on the replacements to show up.”

“And, what is that part?” 

“Think of it like the uh, ah yes, the carburetor in a car. It keeps everything balanced. Keeps the subjects metabolism steady so they don’t chew through the drugs too fast, keeps the tank at the ideal temperature for chemical reactions, without boiling the subject like a lobster haha. But the key is, it was completely mechanical. But at the end of the day, it's just a bunch of tubes full of fluid that move based on pressure differentials.”

“Which means?”

“Well, heat would throw it off.”

“Here, I think we have a schematic. Now, doctor, this is very important. I need you to explain to me exactly how the machine malfunctioned, and how it would affect HECA79.”

“Well technically, it wasn’t malfunctioning at all. It was functioning correctly, just under less-than-ideal circumstances. Oh, haha. Yes, haha, but thats not what you’re looking for haha. Yes. Well. What side did the fire hit it from? Do you know?”

“This one here.”

“Fascinating. Well. Then, the apparatus would have uh, hm. Oh dear.”

“Doctor.”

“It would have spiked the hypnostimulant feed, while introducing impurities.”

“Which means?”

“I- I haven’t the slightest idea. It would've been deadly, I can assure you that. But its as if…Its as if you had a car, coasting in neutral, downhill at terminal velocity, and then you switched gears to high gear, and then slammed the gas while spraying rocket fuel into the intake.”

“Could we ask you to write a full report on your speculation?”

“Frankly sir, I am as intrigued as you are. You would have to hold my wrists to keep me from writing on this. Fascinating.”

ENCLOSED: FINAL READOUT OF HECA79

"BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD"[Phrase repeats over twenty thousand times.]

[imoved-starbitsun]

something i never see anyone talk about is how lonely autism can be. not because we don’t fit in or whatever, but because our love languages are so fundamentally different from the rest of the world.

i won’t always hear it when someone tells me they love me. i won’t always understand it when someone shares a kindness with me. sometimes it hurts to be touched. sometimes i interpret genuine care as mocking or insincere because i’ve been burnt so often, and i have no way of knowing otherwise.

when i spend time in my room engaging in interests i enjoy, but i leave the door open to let my friends come in and out and interrupt as they please, that’s love. when i send someone a long ramble about something i care about, that’s love. when i let someone hug me, that’s love. when i try a food even though it’s not a safe food, because my friend made it and is very proud of it, that’s love. when i take the time to tell you when i need space and that i’ll come back when im able, that’s love.

i don’t think people hear me when i tell them i love them. i don’t know if i can hear others when they say it either. i feel very alone most of the time, like there’s a glass barrier between me and the rest of the world. i can see them mouthing, i love you, i love you, but how can i believe them? they’re nowhere near me. no warmth and no life in it.