#i sent this as asks as well but just in case

[fuck-customers]

There’s this disgusting man that sits at the end of my department’s row because no one else, including the people in his department, want to be around him. He’s been moved around multiple times on my floor because the man is the physical embodiment of gross and people can’t stand sitting next to him. He’s a slob and acts like he’s at home and doesn’t care about his hygiene or manners around others. For the past month, he has been sick and has gotten half of our department sick too, and even after they got better, he was still sick but insisted he wasn’t because he didn’t want to wear a mask in the office and didn’t want to use his pto to stay home. He also doesn’t cover his mouth when he sneezes or coughs and he can be heard hacking up mucus so loudly that my customers on the phone can hear him too and you can also hear him spitting into his trash can frequently. In the first 2 weeks of him being sick, we were all fed up because of how short staffed and overworked we were so we went and spoke to our manager, who suggested we send an email to HR about the guy so they can move him again. One person sent the email first and HR forwarded it to the sick employee’s manager because they claimed the employee didn’t doing anything wrong and that manager retaliated by telling my manager that if his department doesn’t stop bullying his employee, he’s going to report my department for dress code violation. There’s only one person in my department that wears leggings to work, but she’s also not the only one on our floor that wears leggings to work. There’s even a person wearing leggings in his department as well and we’re friends with her, so I felt like he was shooting himself in the foot with that threat. Anyway to save our coworker, we all agreed to not send another email. Another 2 weeks go by and the coworker who wears leggings gets called to HR for wearing leggings to work. Luckily the HR person said she didn’t even care about her wearing leggings and just called her up as a formality. Rightfully upset, my coworker goes into our manager’s office to ask him to call that other manager into the office to discuss what happened because it’s unfair. Unfortunately my manager has no backbone so he convinced her to calm down and to let it go. I found it repulsive that my manager wouldn’t go even a fraction as hard as that other manager to protect his employee when we’re clearly the victims here. I can’t believe that manager thought someone wearing leggings to work was as bad as someone being a walking health hazard. I don’t think wearing leggings as pants is appropriate either but we’re a call center and no one ever sees us so what does it matter in this case??? Meanwhile coming to work sick and refusing to take precautions to prevent others from also getting sick is extremely disrespectful and inconsiderate

Posted by admin Rodney

[familiarscars]

Drive You Insane | Noah Sebastian 06

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Noah Sebastian X psychiatrist!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. A mysterious new patient arrives at the Grimshade sanatorium and you have been tasked with taking care of his case.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). disturbing environment, violence, unconventional treatments, manipulation, questionable relationships, explicit sex and profanity.

I really need your reblog! On Tumblr, the content reaches more views and is delivered more through reblog and I really wanted more people to be able to read what I write. I'm counting on you from now on, ok?

"If you wanted to take me on a romantic date, you should’ve at least picked a better place," he grumbled, as always.

With your head feeling as heavy as if it were made of lead, you tried to sit up, but the weakness in your body sent you right back onto the bed. Holding your temple, you took in your surroundings and, judging by the equipment and the movement in the hallway, realized you were in a hospital room.

"What the hell happened to you?" Travis asked, settling into the chair beside you. "Do you have some sort of fixation on doing everything the opposite way? I told you to take a walk, and that did not include calling me out of my patients' charts to come pick you up at the hospital!"

"I was in the fraternity meeting room talking to some guy named Patrick, and suddenly everything went black," you murmured. With great effort, you sat up in bed and took a deep breath, gradually adjusting to the daylight again.

Memories of the conversation started flooding back, bringing with them a suffocating unease, as if you were still in that room, facing Patrick. Her eyes, her hair, her smile, the small dimple on her cheek—she looked so much like you, with only a few differences.

"Why didn’t you tell me Rachel and I look alike?"

Rune stopped eating the grape jelly the nurse had brought him and shifted his gaze to you, raising his hands as if he didn’t understand the question.

"I didn’t think it was relevant. A lot of people look alike," he said. "I look like any average blonde, blue-eyed heartthrob. Don’t flatter yourself."

“It wouldn’t be relevant if I didn’t look like my patient’s ex-girlfriend – that guy who hates me and supposedly murdered her!”

"Well, when you put it like that..."

You were restless, not realizing that this could still unsettle you even more. With your eyes fixed on the hospital bed sheets, you mulled over how you could turn this situation to your advantage instead of tormenting yourself over something beyond your control.

Noah had spoken to you after you had irritated him at Hidden. Now, you understood that your presence was a trigger for him—something that infuriated him, made him lose control, made him avoid you at all costs. But it also made him act on impulse, especially when your safety was at stake, triggering his protective instincts.

You had figured everything out up to this point.

Or almost everything.

You desperately needed to know more about Rachel, needed to use her as a weapon, no matter how dirty that plan was. But deep down, you were behaving just like him.

"I need him to be my patient again!" you declared, determined, clenching your fists over your thighs.

"THAT’S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR!" Travis responded with an enthusiastic tone.

At the sanatorium, you had to answer a few questions since all your coworkers had heard that you had fallen ill and been hospitalized. You felt fine—really fine—with no pain or lingering strange sensations. The only thing about to consume you was curiosity.

Everything about that man seemed to mess with your once impeccable judgment. It was as if he took pleasure in seeing a question mark permanently stamped on your face, and you hated that he was so damn handsome. You realized you struggled to distinguish his wicked nature when looking at a body that seemed sculpted by the devil himself.

Despite all of this, you were still a psychiatrist, and you needed to work.

Dr. Steve had organized a group therapy session and, upon your return to duty, asked you to lead it alongside the patients. You were, of course, nervous—you had never done this before. Being alone with so many patients, still a novice, trying to earn their respect, was a daunting task. But the director gave you a false sense of security by promising that a guard would be there to support you.

The room was dim, the fluorescent light flickering slightly as usual, creating an almost claustrophobic atmosphere. The patients sat in mismatched chairs, arranged in a circle that, no matter how open it seemed, felt like it was closing in with each movement. You felt Noah’s gaze on you immediately, like a weight pressing down on your shoulders. His stare was intense, as if he were waiting for you to slip up, hanging onto your every word. The rest of the room felt oppressive, but Noah—with his silence, his unspoken irony—filled the space with palpable tension.

You tried to focus, to avoid looking at him. Not to give him the power to shake you.

"Well... everyone," you began, your voice steadier than you felt, "today, we’re going to work together to understand a little more about how we deal with... the emotions that afflict us."

Trying to maintain composure, you started leading the session, your voice firm, though inside, you were still afraid—afraid of losing control of the room, and especially of losing control over him.

"How about today we talk about an emotion common to all of you, one that is often the greatest enemy of your minds?" you started, trying to keep your tone calm. "Hatred."

The silence in the room was heavy. The other patients seemed lost in their own reflections, while he remained steadfast in his mission to unsettle you—and succeeding. His eyes were piercing, challenging, sending warmth creeping up your neck in an unfamiliar sensation.

"Would anyone like to start?" you asked, running your fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear, trying to ease the tension. But you already knew—they were all waiting for your next move.

Then Brady, his gaze distant and his tone melancholic, broke the silence.

"I hate how people judge me before even knowing me, how they decide to hate me for no reason," the murderer declared.

You gave a small nod, encouraging him to continue.

"Yes, Brady. Hatred rarely appears out of nowhere. Like a plant, it needs roots, a place to grow. When it emerges without reason, it's at the very least... unfair, don’t you think?" You posed the question as your eyes scanned the room, pausing fleetingly on Noah’s. "This destructive feeling doesn’t just consume the one who feels it—it spreads, like radioactive fallout."

"I don’t think I deserve to be hated," the murderer replied again, puffing out his chest.

"Alright then, Brady. Does anyone else have something to say?"

The session continued, but while the others spoke, you could still feel Noah there, silent, his presence lingering in the room like a shadow, making the discomfort grow.

He wasn’t engaging in the discussion, wasn’t trying to be part of the group. Instead, he simply observed, challenged—like all of this was some kind of joke. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes… his eyes were saturated with sarcasm. It was as if he knew none of this would make a difference, that his presence here was just another distraction.

"I don’t care about hatred," Mariane said, breaking the silence again. "I hate, and that’s it. Honestly, I think this conversation is pathetic and completely useless if I’m not even willing to change."

You were about to respond, but Noah’s eyes never left yours. They were challenging, as if silently telling you he didn’t believe in a single word you said. You tried to focus on the session, but your mind kept drifting back to him. With every word the others spoke, you could feel Noah draining your energy, getting under your skin in a way you couldn’t control.

"And why aren’t you willing to change?" you replied, trying to maintain control.

That’s when Noah’s stare intensified again. He still wasn’t speaking, but everything about him—his tense body, his unwavering gaze, the almost imperceptible smirk—was saying more than words ever could. It was like he was enjoying watching you try to maintain order. The room felt smaller, the tension thickening.

"Because no matter how much I ‘show growth,’ whether it’s real or just an act, nothing will change my sentence," Mariane shouted, voice breaking. "And it sure as hell won’t change the fact that I have to look at your face every day until I finally manage to slit my wrists!"

You shifted in your chair.

This was even harder than you had imagined, and none of them were offering even the slightest bit of mercy for your nervousness.

"It’s hard to believe me when I say I understand you. After all, I’m not the one locked in a place like this, stripped of the most precious thing a human being can have: their freedom. I’m not the one abandoned by those I love, discarded by society, seen as nothing more than an animal. I’m not the one whose body feels weak from the excess of medication or who watches my own reflection deteriorate after being trapped in this unhealthy environment for so long."

For a moment, you let go of the rigid posture of a doctor, of the absolute authority in the room. For a few seconds, you were just... you.

"But I am here. In this horrible place, by the way. I miss my home too, my parents, seeing a beautiful sky without feeling cold, being with my friends, not being surrounded by constant noise, eating something that doesn’t taste like ash. I feel sad, too. I want to go silent for days, too. I feel hatred, too."

That approach was certainly not the most appropriate. But something shifted in each face present in the room.

For a moment, they saw familiarity. They saw themselves as nothing more than human.

"Wearing a white coat doesn’t change the fact that I’m also made of flesh and bone. Feeling emotions like these is normal for anyone. No one deserves more or less, no one suffers more or less. If you’re breathing, feeling is your right."

With your fists clenched on your thighs, you turned your gaze to them.

"Here, all of you are the same. You’ve all committed crimes, you all have questionable conduct. There’s not a single one of you who stands out. So, as a homework assignment, see yourselves as human beings who can, yes, feel hatred and be hated, but above all, try to find the root of that feeling… if it really exists."

The room fell silent once more, but now the atmosphere had changed. It was no longer just about hatred, nor about therapy. Now, there was a silent battle between you and Noah. But he didn’t yield. His almost invisible smile appeared again, like a silent challenge. All the patients stood up when the session was officially over and began slowly heading toward the exit, except for him. You finally breathed a little easier as you watched the room empty, even though you were still in the presence of the tattooed demon.

With slow, snake-like steps, he rose from his seat and started walking toward the door, but you used your anger as fuel and moved quickly, blocking his path. The tall, apathetic man stared down at you as if his irises could pierce your body in half, and his only reaction was to take a shallow breath.

"You can’t just pretend that night never happened, Noah!" Your voice came out low, but filled with firmness as you stared at him with a sharp gaze. "You can’t stay silent and let them blame me for something I didn’t do!"

His words felt like a challenge, and Noah clearly didn’t like being pressed. With a swift motion, his hand grabbed your arm, twisting your bodies until your position was vulnerable against the wall. He leaned in slowly, reducing the distance between you until his brown eyes, now alight with a restless fire, were aligned with yours. For a moment, he simply stayed there, absorbing your broken breath as if it were a pleasant melody.

"And what are you going to do about it, doctor?" His voice was like poison wrapped in challenge as his finger idly played with a strand of your hair.

The way he delicately brought the strand to his nose and inhaled its scent disturbed you deeply.

"Your brilliant plan is to prove that I spoke to you?" He raised an eyebrow, a crooked smile forming. "But did I really speak? I have a feeling that, soon, you’ll be the last person in here whose word will hold any weight."

"What does that mean?"

"Did anyone tell you what happened to the last psychiatrist who sat in this same chair before you?"

"He resigned."

Noah laughed. A laugh full of something dangerous, but it was the gleam of his perfectly aligned teeth that, for a second, distracted you from the real danger he posed.

"Yes," he nodded, still smiling. "He resigned because he became a patient."

A chilling shiver ran down your spine.

"Your hatred for me, to the point where you want to drive me insane, makes no sense. Not when, since I got here, all I’ve tried to do is help you… try to be better than Dr. Rune." Your voice was firm, laden with a conviction that didn’t seem to shake Noah. He just tilted his head, evaluating your words.

"The problem is I didn’t ask for your help." His response came in an impatient growl. "I don’t care if you’re different from Rune. You’re all the same, and I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to tell my version, I don’t want to reopen my case, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear another diagnosis that’s just going to keep me far from the electric chair." His eyes burned with a venomous fervor. "What I want is for you to shut up, stay away from me, and stop acting like I’m the only patient in this damn place!"

"Is all of this because I remind you of her?"

Noah froze for a moment before letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes.

"Sweetheart…" The word came laced with sarcasm. "You definitely don’t remind me of her. And take that as the first and last compliment you’ll ever get from me."

Your brow furrowed. You couldn’t tell whether that was a relief or a new provocation.

"You seem resentful when you mention Rachel. Quite different from what I heard about your relationship with her…"

The shift in his expression from indifference to rage was immediate.

"Stop analyzing me." The words came out between clenched teeth, and you saw, from the corner of your eye, how his fists clenched.

"If you won’t talk to me, I’ll investigate and analyze you anyway, Noah. That’s my job, whether you cooperate or not. And your attempt to drive me insane?" You leaned your face in closer, keeping your gaze fixed on his. "It won’t work if I decide to dismantle your case piece by piece… just for the pleasure of doing it until I reach what you call your mind."

The silence between you two thickened.

"You don’t know me."

"And who said I'm the one who's going to drive you insane, doctor?" Noah's voice came laced with a delicate, almost amused tone. "You're already in the worst of hells. This place is cursed—it will drain your mind, blur the line between reality and illusion… You'll go mad all on your own, just by being here. If you love playing detective so much, why have you never read about the legend of Grimshade?"

"You're trying to change the subject." You cut him off, adjusting your posture, feeling your throat dry up.

"I'm giving you a warning. I'm the least of your problems here, babygirl."

Noah blinked slowly before lifting a strand of your hair to his nose, inhaling your scent one last time before letting it slip from his fingers. Then, he stepped away, walking toward the door with his usual arrogant confidence—until he stopped abruptly.

The air around him seemed to shift.

The relaxed posture vanished, his shoulders stiffened, and his feet seemed rooted to the ground as a blond man, about his height, appeared in the hallway. His glasses reflected the cold light of the environment, but it was the wide, calculated smile that truly shattered Noah’s trance.

"How are you, Noah?" Dr. Rune’s voice came with a disturbingly smooth tone.

Noah didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Before he could react, one of the guards grabbed his arm, forcing him to follow the other patients down the corridor.

The psychiatrist didn’t even glance back. He simply tilted his chin slightly in your direction, a brief, almost casual gesture.

"How about a coffee?"

In the cafeteria, a few curious gazes still lingered on you, and for a moment, you wished you knew what kind of gossip and absurd rumors must have been circulating about you. Rune ordered a black coffee, and you a hot chocolate. He led you to an empty table, yet it seemed impossible to shake off the last few minutes from your mind.

That man was the real curse, not Grimshade.

"How was the group session?" Rune asked, placing his cup on the table with a controlled gesture. "Since it was your first time, I should have assisted you, but I was caught up with a case."

"It was a disaster. If Dr. Steve wanted to punish me, he played his best card."

"So the doctor has social anxiety..."

The remark came accompanied by an analytical gaze, as if he had just extracted a diagnosis in mere five minutes of conversation. That was the worst part of being constantly surrounded by professionals in the field—always ready to categorize any perceptible trait. And ironically, you were no different.

"No, of course not!" You rushed to deny it.

Rune merely tilted his head, as if he had just confirmed his suspicion.

"Understandable. Handling patients inside a closed office is one thing, speaking to them in public is another. Steve might have been testing your composure… Since it was a disaster, maybe it’s better to stick to what you’re used to."

Always so encouraging.

"At university, I dealt with less reactive patients. Here, every word I choose could be a death sentence—one slip, and I might end up with a pencil lodged in my jugular." You blinked slowly, feeling the weight of your own words.

Rune didn’t show any surprise. He simply traced the rim of his cup with his index finger, his eyes assessing you as if he were dissecting a predictable puzzle.

"You settled for handling less complex dilemmas because you're afraid of facing real challenges." The statement was cold, unwavering. "You're insecure enough to come across as… lazy, yet easily intimidated. You have little autonomy in decision-making, and I’d bet even the topic of your final thesis wasn’t chosen by you."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued, relentless.

"Overprotective mother. The only time you left home was for university, where you barely made any friends. You struggle to fit into social circles, which explains why you haven’t built any relationships here. The need to speak in public suffocates and embarrasses you. And even the slightest sensation of danger is something new to you—so new that it becomes fascinating. In time, that fascination will turn into obsession."

He lifted his gaze, as if he had already reached his conclusion.

"Am I wrong?"

You smiled, shaking your head slowly from side to side, mirroring Rune's gesture as you narrowed your eyes. Audacious, arrogant, and ridiculously rude. He was everything you weren’t when confidence filled him to the core.

"You're giving me space to analyze you too, Dr. Rune."

He raised an eyebrow slightly, an almost challenging smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm looking forward to it."

You tilted your head, taking in every detail of him before speaking.

"You would have an enviable confidence… if it weren’t so clearly the result of forced maturity." You paused, observing the subtle way he inhaled, as if bracing his mind to dismantle your analysis before even hearing it. "You felt abandoned to the point of building your own armor. You have no friends because you struggle to trust even your own shadow. Your sharp tongue and calculated posture are nothing but a mask to hide the silent hatred burning in your blue eyes."

Rune didn’t smile this time.

"You feel a constant need to prove yourself exceptional at what you do—like every achievement is an answer to an absence." You leaned forward slightly. "Possibly, your inner child still bleeds from the lack of recognition from your parents. It made you self-sufficient, but deep down, you still nurture the secret desire to make them proud in some way."

You watched him for a moment before finishing:

"Am I wrong?"

For the first time since you arrived at Grimshade, you accomplished the unthinkable: you left Travis Rune in silence.

He didn’t deny it, didn’t roll his eyes, didn’t immediately counter with a sharp analysis. He just stood there, motionless, processing every word you had thrown at him.

Then, after a few seconds that seemed to stretch on, he pulled the corner of his lips into a tight, almost forced smile.

"Interesting…" His voice was low but still carried his usual tone. "You’d make an excellent psychiatrist."

"Thanks." You shrugged.

No awkwardness settled between you—on the contrary. The conversation continued without tension, almost naturally, as if the verbal clash in the cafeteria had established a new dynamic between you two.

When you left the cafeteria, Rune surprisingly allowed you to accompany him on a few visits to medium-risk patients. For most of the afternoon, you walked the corridors of Grimshade together.

"You never did tell me if your little moment alone with Noah led to anything."

The remark was casual, but you caught the curiosity hidden beneath it.

"He clearly did what he did to push me away from the case. He doesn’t want treatment, which explains the vow of silence he’s been keeping." You paused for a second, furrowing your brows. "But one thing stood out to me. He said, word for word, that I definitely don’t resemble Rachel. What did he mean by that?"

You cast a glance at Rune, who simply shrugged.

"You two share some subtle physical similarities, but your personalities might be completely different. When you visited the fraternity, did you find anything relevant about her?"

"Just that their relationship was happy. And that she cared about him..."

Travis’s low chuckle cut your sentence short.

"If it was happy, he wouldn’t have killed her."

That was a hard point to ignore.

You wetted your lips, recalling Noah’s expression.

"You should’ve seen him. When I mentioned Rachel, he completely changed..." You hesitated, trying to put into words what you had felt. "It was so different from what Patrick told me at the fraternity. It’s like… talking about Rachel transforms him."

"Well, I think you have the perfect opportunity in your hands." Travis tapped his index finger against his temple, a crooked smile forming on his lips. "Make a deal: drop your obsession with his case, and in return, he clears your ass of Tom Harrow’s murder. Simple."

You frowned.

"But..."

"But nothing, doctor!" He cut you off firmly. "I understand that his case might trigger your sense of justice, but life isn’t always a movie where the protagonist is wrongly accused of something they didn’t do. Digging into this won’t change anything for you. He’s here for a reason, he has a diagnosis, and at the end of the day, he’s just another patient."

Travis leaned slightly toward you, his voice lower but just as incisive.

"Get rid of him."

Your eyes met for a few seconds. Rune was impossible to read. His expression was cold and neutral, but something was off. It was too convenient for him that you’d just drop the case.

Since arriving at Grimshade, Travis had been hiding things from you—about your resemblance to Rachel, about the real reason the former psychiatrist was dismissed. He wasn’t as trustworthy as he made himself seem.

You took a deep breath, crossing your fingers over your chest as if sealing a silent promise.

"One last question, Dr. Rune."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Of course."

"Who was the psychiatrist who signed Noah’s diagnosis report?"

The same report you knew had been bought by his family.

Travis didn’t hesitate.

"Me."

Your stomach sank.

"Right."

You nodded, keeping your posture indifferent, and continued walking down the corridor. As you descended the stairs, you could feel the invisible weight of Rune’s gaze on your back.

But your mind hammered on a single certainty.

That diagnosis hadn’t been fabricated overnight just to shove Noah in there.

It had already existed.

And it had been altered.

⭑ @bloody-spades ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline​ ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @do-it-jakey-baby ; @flowery-mess

[theallianceofcelestials]

I just had an idea pop in my head what if baby eclipse got sent to the mirror dimension, you know with solar and his version of the family, because you know babies touch everything and is bound to touch something they aren't supposed to. How do you think that would go, and if you're comfortable and have the time would you be okay making a small drabble if you'd like

-🩸

I mean it's not gonna be as indept, but sure!

Solar stares at the tiny, baby version of his second body, barely noticing Killcode twitch beside him. He's too busy staring into big faded gold optics, that are slowly filling with tears, as the tiny him seemingly realises he's surrounded by a bunch of strangers.

It's almost in slow motion how the kid takes in a deep vent, only to begin wailing.

Behind him he can hear Moon hiss, and that's what snaps him out of it. Old protocols activate, and then he's scooping the kid up in a hold that comes to him incriminatingly easily.

"Hey, it's okay, you're fine. Where're your parents little one?"

The standard protocols written into him are hard to defeat, and he can feel questioning gazes burn into his back, but he ignores them. Right now the crying baby is what matters.

A tiny uncoordinated hand raises towards Killcode, and Solar already winces, because yeah, he can understand he looks pretty creepy-

"Not Papa!"

Not papa? What the hell those that mean?

He looks at his dad, finding him just as lost as he is. So he looks back at the child, and starts thinking.

He technically knows other dimensions exist, and thus other Foundations, but he was never quite sure if he existed somewhere else, but now...

"Hey Eclipse?"

The little animatronic looks up at him, and it's almost like a gut punch.

"Does your papa look like mine?"

The child, Eclipse, sniffs but nods.

"Too cold"

Cold? Does he mean his optics?

"Not Papa!"

And then he gears up for another round of crying. Solar has to think fast to stop it.

"Well I know your papa!" a lie technically, but the little tot stops to blink at him "And he asked me in case you ever got lost, to take care of you until he can come get you!"

He hopes those SCPs are as stubborn as his, because otherwise they're gonna have a problem.

.*.*.*.

He doesn't trust anyone with the child except himself and Killcode. Maybe Sun. But not anyone else.

It's clear the child is greatly upset by all these people who look like his family, clinging to Solar.

His siblings are curious of course, but they don't push. So he lets them play with the baby when he wants to, and he thinks there're pictures getting snapped of it.

It's Moon he's worried about. His uncle looks at the child with that weird, soft look of his that puts him on edge. Not because he's afraid the SCP will hurt the baby, that looks differently, but because he's afraid Moon'll fight the child's actual family.

"Soley?"

"Yes Clipse?"

Eclipse holds up a picture of them holding hands, with what he assumes is the kid's family on one side, and his own on the other. It makes something clench sweetly in him, and he smiles warmly at the child.

"It's a very nice picture! Do you want me to put it up on the fridge?"

The baby grins, and Solar hoists him up. He's immediately hugged.

"Can I know what the inspiration was?"

"Bwothe Soley, Dada KC, and new brothas and uncles!"

Solar hums, unable to stop a smile from forming.

"Yeah, brother sounds just fine to me"

Perhaps he loves kids more than he thought

[teamrv]

i woke up from a nap and saw that jamie had tweeted about the hate comments situation. i think that the same message should have been posted on instagram rather than twitter. (also jamie, ask maria to write it in spanish too if you want to talk to the real people who partly leave hate comments)

this is probably my first time addressing this issue and i want to address it from both angles:

first, there are people who don't really care about franco but find it amusing to post those comments—as f1 fans, we can't really do anything about that, it's pretty obvious to me the best we can do is to ignore them. however, there are others who genuinely believe that commenting like this will change "the situation", much like when a well-known fandom sent emails to mercedes ~ i'm not just talking to those who annoyingly comment on instagram posts hoping that alpine will sack jack pre-season, but also to those who trash franco for doing activities for alpine as their reserve driver thinking it supports jack's case.

i believe we can help these people understand the situation and the comments from those people will die down.

second, alpine is also to blame. they created this situation, and now they're blaming people for being confused? they signed and paid money to another team for a very promising driver (who is ridiculously popular) as a reserve for five years while their main driver and the other two reserve drivers are under a one year contract. alpine's team interrupted the press conference to ask the english and spanish press not to bring up questions about their own reserve driver (they were mean to jack but well the press is like that sadly and i guess alpine should have known?) while at the same announcing a sponsorship with mercadolibre (franco's main sponsor). now in bahrain, they brought aron instead of franco, and of course, that looks suspicious. people are going to talk and react to it if they don’t even act like it’s a normal situation (it's not) and that everything is clear...

third, they geoblock and segregate their target audience on instagram and expect people not to be annoyed? why are you hiding one of your drivers if he's just a driver? again, people will get annoying if you don't act normal

people from both sides annoy me honestly. i just need alpine to be normal about this and the situation will calm down naturally

[salternateunreality2]

Concept I CANNOT get out of my head: Lucretia ends up pregnant with identical twins. Sephiroth has a brother. How does this change the story?

Thanks for the ask! Lots of possibilities here, so there's a sad/likely one up top and some happy crack ones if you scroll down.

Angst answer (CW: major character death, Hojo shenanigans)

Hojo pits them against each other to encourage growth and competition. Fear of punishment plus natural ambition (they have 3 very ambitious parents) drive a wedge between them.

They bond a bit over shared trauma, but Hojo is invested in severing that bond every chance he gets, to make them more dependent on him.

Wutai falls almost immediately. Rhadore is wiped off the map mercilessly. Shinra's power grows at an even more alarming rate.

Due to their fierce competition, they don't spend time getting to know anyone. The saving graces that could have been in their lives (FS trio, Banora Boys, Zack) are shoved aside. They are very, very lonely men, or even boys because the plot progresses so much more quickly.

They are bitter, spiteful, and sharp. Cadets and underlings fear them.

Only one gets sent to Nibelheim, and Hojo knows what's there. The other is kept at home as a control.

He falls, of course. If he is younger because of the accelerated conquering, then Cloud doesn't stop him and dies as a child in the fires. Zack hasn't made rank and is probably just a trooper, and it's one of both of the Banora boys who tries to stop him.

Let's go with both for maximum angst!

Crazyroth wounds Angeal severely and Genesis manages to stab him and kill him while getting severely wounded himself and sliding down to meet Angeal. Zack is either killed in the river or by Crazyroth as a trooper.

Angeal and Genesis are picked up by Hojo for experimentation. Tifa's also dead because she was a younger child too and hadn't advanced enough in training yet.

Hojo is furious Crazyroth died, but he still has Normalroth...well, Jenova got activated somewhat during Crazyroth's rampage and is now in the lifestream with him...so Normalroth is getting constant migraines.

Angeal wakes up and breaks himself and Genesis out, following Zakkura's path. Thanks to Hojo's experimentation, they don't suffer degradation and thanks to their prior enhancements, Genesis wakes up sooner than Cloud did.

Genesis is furious and convinces Angeal to go to war against Shinra. Unfortunately, with no bond to hold him back and no clones to help GenGeal, Normalroth obliterates the pair, but does get wounded.

Meanwhile, Aerith is haunted by the planet's screams as Jenova taints the lifestream, just as Normalroth is haunted by his brother's voice echoing his mother's.

Avalanche proceeds as normal and the president drops the plate. Aerith is spared by the Turks, Hojo finds out, kidnaps her to make her make babies with Normalroth.

The only thing that saves her from that fate is Normalroth snapping after all his headaches and killing everyone, including her, in the tower.

The Turks sensed danger and got Rufus away, but now a planet-level threat is roaming around all rabid and there are no plucky teams of young adults to band together, collect friends, and stop him. Plus, Jenova+Twinroths starts from a stronger position with a living body.

Jenova gets her way, eats everyone on the planet, and uses it as a vessel to see the stars.

Twinroths are finally at peace, doing one activity they both always loved: stargazing.

As they fly, conquering worlds and living freely, they meld together more and more into one entity with Jenova, and enjoy it immensely. At long last, the connection they longed for ❤️😺😺🐙❤️

Precious boys:

Them riding Mother's coattails:

Crack answer 1:

It's Chadley. Chadley and Sephiroth.

In the most likely scenario, this just results in Hojo letting Chadley skip some torture as long as his scientific progress is beneficial to Hojo, but the boys both still get trained in war and end up in the angst case above.

Sephiroth cracks first, then Chadster.

In a more hopeful situation, both boys spend more time on science and the angst above is delayed by a few years! Woo!

In the best case scenario, they band together. Sephiroth wants to protect his "baby" brother and Chadley wants to protect his naive older brother and they work together to kill Hojo and Shinra and run off with Glenn and co. and live happily ever after as accomplished astronomers and maybe astronauts.

Crack answer 2:

They are gremlins of the highest order and enable each other in escape attempts, eventually finding Vincent, who falls for their chaotic charm immediately and protects them with his life.

[vinelark]

Hiiiii I just read bbts, which I absolutely loved, and then went through your extras tag and you mentioned there might be some core four shenanigans which were cut?? #BartFanForLife #CassieMyBeloved

yes! [mild ch6 spoilers to follow]

so i think when i mentioned those cut shenanigans it was because initially i drafted the core four groupchat convo as one with only tim and bart and cassie; original outline had tim telling them his identity (officially, in bart's case) and also debriefing them about the whole cadmus guy situation at the top of the chapter. but it didn't work for multiple reasons (pov, tone) so i cut it. later i revised that outtake for the chapter button instead, which i like way better anyway because kon gets to participate. and it can be peak silly at that point 💪

i have one other outtake with them, which is the first draft of the scene where kon video calls bart & cassie from the fortress early in the chapter. i still like this version, but it didn't quite work tonally and, more importantly, i was like "if they have this conversation bart would be way too smart to not intervene and prevent the rest of the chapter's plot from happening." but this was the initial rough draft:

---

Bart and Cassie know about the kidnapping, and about Cadmus guy. That was the first thing they told him on the call, after interrogating him about the healing pod (it’s fine and boring) and when they can visit (not yet; there’s some concern about non-Kryptonian germ vectors in Kon’s compromised state): that Robin and Nightwing gave them a rundown of what happened to Kon, and then sent the team to destroy the guy’s lab in Delaware a few days ago. Robin also apparently told them to ignore the media for the next few weeks, and said that half of what they’d see about Superboy is on purpose and the rest doesn’t matter.

Kon thinks about the girl outside the hospital, and, like, he knew it was a media play—Robin had told him as much in the message, that he had a plan—but still, some tiny, ridiculous piece of him unclenches in his chest.

“Okay, so like,” Cassie says, then stops.

“So like,” Kon repeats.

Cassie props her chin on her knees. The spiky ends of her hair are nearly invisible against the sunlight behind her, and suddenly Kon’s solar pod feels woefully inadequate. He misses his friends so much. “So like, that video of you,” Cassie says. “On a date. Or, what the whole internet said was a date. With that guy from Gotham.”

“Tim,” Bart says immediately, then makes an odd face and ducks out of frame.

“Yeah, him,” Cassie says. “That whole part of it. Is that one of the ‘on purpose’ things? Or does it fall in the ‘doesn’t matter’ category?”

Kon swallows. “What…what did Rob say? About that.”

Cassie huffs out an annoyed breath. “He said he’d explain more when things ‘settled.’ But also that we could ask you.”

Kon makes a vague humming noise, because seriously, what’s he supposed to do with that? It’s not like he can tell them Rob’s secret, even if it sounds like Rob is giving him some sort of convoluted, indirect permission to do just that.

Then Bart blinks back into frame and adds: “He also said not to push if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, the general sense was like, Rob desperately trying not to be a control freak but still managing to be a control freak about it,” Cassie says. “So, classic Robin.”

“Well,” Kon says, “the video didn’t happen on purpose.”

[zannilove]

Uncharted Moments

Word count — 1,018 Character(s): Caleb x non-descipt!reader Warnings: None Note: A little drabble for Caleb loosely based on this. I've been loving this man since he first appeared and I am beyond ecstatic to have him as a LI, not that ever doubted he would be. I purposely left out the "spicy" stuff to leave that up to reader's discretion.

The faint hum of the spaceship’s engines created a gentle vibration beneath you as you stepped into Caleb’s quarters. The air smelled faintly of him; clean, crisp, with a hint of something deeper, something that made your skin prickle in anticipation.

“You’re early,” he murmured, his violet eyes lifting from his holopad. A small smirk played on his lips, one that made your heart stumble in its rhythm. “I thought you’d be too tired after today’s mission.”

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “And miss an opportunity to distract you? Not a chance.”

Caleb chuckled, setting his device aside before stretching his arms lazily, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the day. “You should know by now,” He leaned forward, his voice dipping lower, smooth like velvet. “…you’re never a distraction. You’re an exception.”

The words sent warmth curling through your chest, and maybe a little lower, too. You perched on the edge of his desk, nudging his arm with your knee. “So, what’s next on the fearless Colonel’s schedule?”

He let out a small, exaggerated sigh, pulling up the digital interface on his wrist. “Well, according to this very official itinerary, I should be responding to messages.” He leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “But I think I’d rather spend that time on… something else.”

Your breath caught as his fingers traced an absentminded pattern against your thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric, leaving a trail of tingling anticipation in its wake, like a teasing whisper. He was testing you, waiting. Caleb never rushed these things, he always made you lean in first, always made you crave it.

“And what if I asked you to stay on schedule?” you teased, though your voice betrayed you, already wavering.

His eyes darkened slightly, though his smirk remained. “Then I suppose I’d have to make my case.” His voice was smooth, but you could hear the challenge laced within it, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. He tilted his head. “Persuasively.”

He didn’t close the distance right away. Instead, he let the moment stretch between you, electrified and charged, until you finally gave in and reached for him. The satisfied hum he gave was almost infuriating, almost, but then his lips met yours, and you decided you didn’t mind letting him win... this time.

As the ship drifted through deep space, time seemed to slow, and for once, Caleb abandoned his schedule entirely.

` ` `

Hours passed in a haze of whispered words and stolen kisses, the line between duty and indulgence blurring with every passing moment. His touch was unhurried, deliberate, as if savoring every moment, every inch of your skin beneath his fingertips. The warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine as his lips traced a slow path along your collarbone, lingering just enough to make you gasp before retreating.

When Caleb finally pulled away, it was only to press his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you. His fingers slid lazily along your waist, tracing delicate patterns as if memorizing the shape of you.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement, yet there was something softer beneath it, something unspoken. “I never deviate from my schedule like this.”

You smirked, though your heart was still racing. “Maybe you just needed a better reason to.”

He chuckled, his lips brushing your temple before his fingers ghosted over your bare skin again, leaving trails of warmth that made you shiver. “Maybe.”

He shifted, tucking you closer against him, the steady thrum of his heartbeat matching yours. Silence stretched between you, comfortable and full, until a sudden chime from his communicator interrupted the moment. Caleb groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder.

“That would be the fleet expecting me to check in.” His voice was laced with reluctant amusement.

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You should probably check in. Wouldn’t want them thinking their leader has gone rogue.”

Caleb sighed dramatically before rolling over to retrieve his communicator. He flicked it open with practiced ease, his expression shifting into something more composed as he responded. “Colonel here. Status update?”

As the conversation unfolded, you watched him, admiring the ease with which he commanded respect. Even half-distracted, he was in control, every word calculated, every order precise. And yet, the moment he ended the call, that playful smirk returned.

“Now... where were we?”

You shook your head, laughing as he pulled you back down beside him, fingers tracing idle patterns against your spine. His body was warm against yours, anchoring you in the present moment, and as his lips found your shoulder, pressing slow, languid kisses along your skin, you knew neither of you were in any rush.

Caleb’s schedule could wait just a little longer.

` ` `

The next morning, you found yourself wrapped in the soft glow of the ship’s dawn cycle, Caleb’s arms still securely around you. His warmth seeped into your skin, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a quiet rhythm against your back. You sighed in contentment, enjoying the rare moment of stillness.

“We’re going to be late,” you murmured groggily, though you made no effort to move.

He hummed, pressing a lazy kiss to the top of your head, not bothering to open his eyes. “Let them wait.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real protest in you. His fingers skimmed lightly over your arm, feather-light, as if savoring every second before his duties inevitably called him away. You felt the teasing curve of his lips against your temple as he spoke again, voice still thick with sleep. “Unless, of course, you want to be the one to tell the fleet why their captain is indisposed.”

You laughed softly, turning in his arms to face him, meeting those violet eyes that still held traces of drowsy warmth. “I’m sure they’d understand.”

His smirk deepened, one hand trailing lazily down your spine. “I think I’d rather keep this reason to myself.”

For once, being off schedule didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

[columbusfirefighterdiaz]

Just as it happened several times this evening, Eddie knew Buck well enough to know how he was going to answer before Eddie even asked. However, he needed to put it out into the world anyway so that they were both on the same page. Even though Tommy and Buck were in a trial claim, Eddie could tell that Tommy was more into it than Buck ever was, but sometimes he thought he was just seeing what he wanted to see. Even though it was the expected answer, hearing how emphatically Buck's said it made him realize that we definitely was correct about their relationship. "I mean... I kind of figured that was case, but just wanted to make sure."

The loss of Buck's hands on his body was instantly felt, and Eddie regretted stopping things. He knew it was needed though and since it was only a temporary pause, he didn't grab Buck's hands and put them back where they were like he wanted to. While Buck didn't hold the phone up long enough that he could read all the messages from Tommy that sent, he saw enough to be pissed on Buck's behalf. "Fuck him, he can squirm for a bit longer." Eddie couldn't stop the smug smile that grew on his face as he picture Tommy, painfully alone, fuming about what Buck was doing.

Now that the Tommy matter was handled, Eddie finally could do what he really wanted to right before he stopped things. Since he needed Buck's lap to be free, Eddie reached down and grabbed Buck's phone before straddling the other man's thighs. Now that he was in a much better position, Eddie reached down with his free hand and tugged at Buck's shirt. "What I really need from you is to get rid of all these clothes." After stating his intentions, Eddie looked at the phone in his hand and had an idea of just how Buck could let him know that their trial claim was officially over.

"Since Tommy seems so worried about you, why don't we give him a call to let him know that you're in really good hands..." He clicked on one of the many notifications of Tommy's that littered Buck's screen and then pressed the call button. Eddie waited until he heard Tommy pick up and yell out "Evan" before turning the volume down on the phone and toss it down on the other side of the couch. While he wanted Tommy to hear what was happening, Eddie had no desire to hear the other man's voice ever again. He was also tempted to video call him to really rub it in, Tommy didn't deserve to see Buck in the state that Eddie planned to get him in ever again. "Now where were we?" It had been way too long since Buck's lips were on his, so Eddie reached out and grabbed Buck's face before crashing their lips together again.

Buck no way intended the pause to be for long, just enough to fill up his lungs so he didn't require Eddie to go from kissing him to CPR. Since the only thing on his mind was returning to Eddie's lips, he was rather surprised when Eddie continued speaking after his agreement. It took a lot of willpower to stop himself from interrupting him, kissing him stupid, until neither of them recall Eddie had used a phrase like "before this goes any further," since even with the hope attached, to made his stomach do a nervous flop. Imagine having a too brief kiss with your dream man just for it to crash and burn before anything else could happen?

Luckily for Buck, it sounded like crashing and burning would only happen if he was the worst kind of fuckup, and he was pretty sure even his worst mistake would pale in comparison what Eddie's words suggested might kill this before it could go ant further. Buck huffed out a laugh, pushing his hand further up his back, dragging his palm up over the slope of his spine. "You really think there's a chance I could go back to Tommy after finding out there's any possibility of a future with you?" He swallowed thickly as his eyes dropped back down to Eddie's lips, feeling a jolt go straight through him and down to his cock at even just the recent memory of them being against his own.

He drew his hand back out of his shirt and at the same time let the other slide down from Eddie's neck to his shoulder. He dipped his head down to look as the former hand pushed into his (now too tight) jeans pocket to fish out his phone. "You want me to tell him right now? Because I'll fuckin' do it-" He glanced at the screen and briefly squinted at the messages. "If it's even necessary, that is..." He rolled his eyes and turned the screen to let Eddie see that his notifications, missed calls, new voice mails, were flooded with Tommy's name, and the last text from not too long ago now was "I turned on your location sharing, Evan! I can tell you're at Eddies, you goddamn whore! CALL ME BACK NOW"

He set the phone on his lap and reached up to curl his fingers into Eddie's shirt, playing with the topmost button, twisting the fabric one handed until the button slipped free from its hole. "Whatever you need from me- regarding Tommy or anything else- I will do it." His eyes focused in on Eddie's again, unaware how love drunk and hungry he really looked, only able to think of how badly he needed his mouth back on the man in front of him.

[wyervan]

Hiya! Osha Anon here!

I tried to send this ask before but I fear Tumblr may have eaten it so I'll try again.

We all know Sunta's workshop ain't passing an Osha inspection, but what about the Slasher AU boy's arcade?

Everything up to code? 📋🤔

-Osha Anon 👷

Sun: Ah! Osha Anon!! 😬😬 I wasn’t expecting you today… oh no! It’s perfectly fine, fine, fine! Go ahead…. have a look around! 👀 We keep everything in TIP-TOP shape for our patrons and staff alike, I assure you! 👍 No exposed wiring, no skeletons in the closet—at least not in that closest. Ah ha ha…. ha… ehem. Have you seen the vintage carpet? 🤩 Marvelous isn’t it? Hyponotic even.

You want to talk to our employees 😅 oh suuuure… yes, I suppose you have to, don’t you. They say the… quirkiest things sometimes, just so you know 😬 LOVE to joke about my colleague Mr. Moon and me. Have this running silly fantasy that we’re murderer clowns that go out hunting at night! Hee hee—such creativity! We play along sometimes 🤭 chase them around the arcade—UH—VERY SAFELY, that is, very safely… only got stuck in the play tunnels ONE TIME ☝️.

[tethered-heartstrings]

hiii! just wanted to give everyone a heads up that I am having gender-affirming surgery next week and will very likely not be on very much if at all as I recover. I will try and have memes and posts scheduled but I probably won't be able to make more when those run out. I'll also up my queue/rb my old posts. in my absence please feel free to check out my ao3/fic masterlist and older memes/metas/etc. or my ko-fi if you like what i make!

[cutie-lumi]

ATTENTION BOOBA ENJOYERS!!!

i made an account to post BOOBA! it's @lumi-cherries

feel free to send me asks about femstars boobas and things like that! i'll be posting more suggestive content there as well, so if ur over 18 and wanna see some BOOBA art then follow me there😌💖 thats it thank u for ur attention

[official-english-major]

When I liked an extrovert, I could never tell if he was interested or just being friendly (spoilers: it was NOT the first option). It was super confusing all the time bc I kept getting all these signals like prolonged eye contact and inside jokes and not knowing if they meant anything.

Meanwhile with the introverted guy who's been hanging around lately, I've been like, "He stuck around at a social event to finish a conversation with me. Two days later, he sent me a reel on Instagram even though he isn't online a lot. He's gonna ask me out." And I was RIGHT

[johnbly]

can't stop thinking about how in dmc jack treated james like a dog (whistling when he wanted him to start digging for the chest, the deleted scenes with giving him the other shovel to carry + having him clean his boot) and james takes it first because of wanting to stay by elizabeth but then because he was waiting for his moment to take the letters of marque + either the compass or chest and get his life back

and of course he gets the letters and the heart and gives them to beckett --

only for beckett to treat him like a dog as well ("you summoned me," the sending off/shooing gesture on the dutchman when it was time to drop off the chest, "he'll obey it's what he does") but this time james has to take it because he sees no other path

[gu6chan]

99% just my autism speaking here but something ive been noticing lately that im sorta kinda 😶 about is when ppl are like "I think you'll like this" but not bc they ACTUALLY think you'll like it, rather they just got into it and want you to also get into it so "I think you'll like this" is a nice personal hook. i love chill stuff as much as any other person ofc but given i don't divulge that EVER, what makes you think my berserk reading, made in abyss watching, drakengard playing ass would like YURU CAMP????

[bookshelfdreams]

I’m bored so I’m on a Asking Spree

who’s your favorite squad?

huh? how do you mean?

[cynicalmusings]

heizou with a spy for hire reader? They're really good at disguising themselves in a matter of seconds, swiftly avoiding apprehension. Imagine heizou finally catches them but he doesn't have any evidence to tie them to any notorious group or crimes and reader's just playing with him, alternating between acting coy and knowing more than they're letting on and it's almost like a game the two of you are playing and the more it goes on, the more interested he becomes.

Then reader wants to play a game of 20 questions and for every question he answer, reader might answer one of his (nothing too incriminating tho).

Reader is mainly flirting with their questions, asking about his day, his favorite foods, did he know how pretty his eyes were... what he's doing after work... but if he plays his cards right, he might get a vague riddle/clue from reader that he can crack and use to solve another crime/case, sometimes even before a crime occurs.

"Is this the whole 'box full of evidence' trick? Where you say I might as well confess since the... 'evidence stacks again me'?" "I know your tactics detective, I'm too innocent to fall for them."

"Since this is an interrogation, may I ask a few questions as well? It's only fair since you're practically holding me hostage here."

shkrjksjs imagine heizou offers them a deal to get them out of interrogation if they work for him and his cases and reader's like "you're asking me on a date?? I always wanted to go to [restaurant] before and-" or something along those lines they can tease him with

oh, the flirtatious rivals dynamic strikes again…