#i'm so sleep-deprived from anxiety lol :)
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rereading sense and sensibility and just marveling at how absolutely ruthless jane austen could be sometimes. aspirational.
"Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think he deserved the compliment of rational opposition."
like wow okay
#*#like i completely forgot that elinor was so savage w her observations#while giving the appearance of being so sensible and mild-mannered#she's too good for that spineless little neet edward ferrars#but it is the curse of 18th century literary heroines to settle for the most milquetoast men or byronic repressed bisexual disasters#there is no in between#even darcy is on the milder side of the repressed disaster spectrum#i'm so sleep-deprived from anxiety lol :)
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Did you know~? Dreams are how the mind subconsciously processes information and our emotions ABOUT the information for us while we are asleep?
:Dc
Gotham Sure Does Have Cults! Don't it? Bet some of them get the bright idea to Capture God(tm). Which ALWAYS ends well, and TOTALLY doesn't lend to them fighting back! Getting the attention of Local Bats!
What with the Lethal, Diving People Too Insanity Nightmares going around.
They're gonna go out on a limb and guess Dream God. Sleep Deity, perhaps. The track the Cult down. Burst in and kick ass. As a Family~
And? The God can admit... they were kinda losing. Humans cheat and these fuckers were VERY prepared. They were gonna Curse this city to unending torment with their dying breathe... BUT! They don't need to do that now! Good for you!
They should probably...reward you or something.
Protocol, you know.
Uuuuuuh, hold on. *look around* Got it! Here. Take these handfull of shiny rocks. Yes, I'm stealing them from the Cultists. They were decorating anyway. Anyway! HERE. I give you A Blessing(tm).
THESE will give you Good Sleep.
One for each of you.
To make up for, you know, tormenting you into intense sleep deprivation, when that is the opposite of my Job. And then you saved me and all. Thanks~☆ *poof!*
It's? A fuckin weird day in Gotham. So basically, just Tuesday. They each take a rock and split, dispite Bruce's paranoid "wait, no! We should lock these up and stare at them suspiciously! Unknown magic! I have anxiety!" Twitching. They're gonna go pass out know. Someone call the commissioner and tell him it's safe now.
They get home, crawl out of their uniforms, into their various beds (even Bruce, as bullied and enforced by Alfred) and give no real thought to their new, divinely gifted, Dream Rock. Probably should have. The magic users would have Lost Their SHIT over those rocks. But, Bats? Telling people things? Voluntarily???
LOL.
And? Of too the first genuinely peaceful, guilt free, nightmare free, night of sleep they've had in A WHILE. As the Rocks get a feel for them. What they WANT out of a Good Sleep experience. Is it walking on the beach? Beating up bad guys and saving the day? A night at home? The Dream Stones shuffling through Pleasant Memories and Happy Thoughts looking for material to work off of.
And... huh. They wake up feeling FANTASTIC.
Turns out? When you actually DO get a good night's rest? No tossing or turning, no night terrors or full body clenching of muscles? Your body heals up. You feel better.
Wild.
These rocks are fantastic.
The give it now more thought. Oh sure, they discuss it. Trial period etc. But? It's all just peaceful meadows and seeing loved ones happy. The classics. Expected, really. So they move on. All while the stones are still finishing their Refining.
Eventually? Ding! They're done! They've gotten a full read of their owner! Know EXACTLY what they want. What would make them happy. So, when the Bat's finally hit the hay? They run their REFINED Dream sequence. Dreaming PLUS, if you will.
It's a school night. So Damian, unfairly in his mind, must go to bed first. Though sleep is not the unpleasant thing it once was. Usually filled with fluffy animals. This time? It's different.
He dreams of entering the Batcave. Taller, stronger. The height and frame he is destined to inherit from his father, finally his. The black armor of The Bat adorning him. Timothy is there. Captured, arms bound behind his back, gagged and on his knees, face pressed to the floor. His armor almost artfully destroyed by battle.
He has cat ears and a tail.
Yet this, like every other jarring detail, seems so perfectly natural. Of course he does. Of course Damian is. Nothing is strange to Damian, as he observes the ears pressed back. The whipping, furious defiance of that tail. The low growl that goes with it. Timothy's eyes catching the light. Beautiful and unbreakable.
Damian strides forward.
They back and forth. Word play sharp and cutting. But Damian has WON and they both know it. Timothy fights now only to save face. Enough is enough. Timothy is haughty. Every bit, beautiful and feline.
Damian has his mouth and DARES him to bite him.
Tear apart the ruins of his armor and claims him on the floor. Is he little NOW, Timothy? Can you ignore him still? The game is over. Admit you've lost! Admit it! The pleasure is too much. His Rival thrashing, biting his lip. Trying to hold back. Unable too in the end. Damian wins. Timothy begs. More, more. Please, it is good. More!
Damian...was NOT aware of the root of his need to fight with Tim. Will not know how to face him come morning.
In his Apartment, Dick drags his aching body into bed. It was a shit day. At least his dreams will be nice. He falls asleep. Blinks "awake" with an OOF! As Tim lands on him with a laugh. Is confused but pleased to see him.
Tim clings. Dotes on him. Bringing breakfast, activities just for them, initiating more casual touch then he has in YEARS. Then? When they get back from what feels like the perfect day out? Dick finds himself doing something he would never DARE. Coming up behind that trusting, warm, cute little body. As Tim chatters and puts things away. And slipping his arms around him. Holding him.
Kissing his neck. Slipping his hand down the front of those cute shorts, to start rubbing him through his panties. Get him wet.
Picking him up and bending him over the back of a couch, so he can tug those bottoms down. Eat him out. Make filthy promises to treat his virgin hole just right. Keep him forever. Listen to him whine and feel him squirm, having never been touched like this before.
Dick wouldn't... wouldn't...
But the dream feels so good. Carrying his Timmy to his room, like a lover. Promising to take such good care of him. Fucking him open on his fingers, then his cock. Kissing his face and neck and perfect little tits. Grinding his clit with his thumb as he finds that perfect angle and pounds til Tim has nothing left to give.
Just the two of them against the world. As pretty little family.
Which will make things awkward with Babs, if she wasn't having her own dreams.
Sitting at her computer. Watching Tim writhing and coming apart at the touch of her keystrokes. Making him wear remote controlled toys. Matching them on herself. Lazy days at the Clockwork, with Tim beneath her desk, a fucking machine in him, his desperate mouth on her.
Flashes and scenarios of what she and Dick could DO to him. Watching Dick fuck her boy sloppy. Not letting EITHER of her boys stop until she was satisfied.
Jason getting a classic. Boyfriend shirt and pizza. Railed on his shitty couch as the movie plays. Like lovers. Newlyweds. Coming home and trying to put a baby in Timmers on his fancy ass mattress in a cheap ass frame. Full on mating press, legs basicly to his ears. Timbers begging for it, needy. Taking it like a champion.
And Bruce? Oh he gets silks and his mothers pearls. The suits he wishes he could get Tim to wear, with stockings hidden underneath. Dinner and dancing. Gotham at peace. Tim looking at him with adoration.
Like a Classy Romance from the movies of his youth. Everything rose petals and candle light. Tim TAKING it, dispite how difficult it is for partners to handle him. Everything being tight and slick and hot. Bruce being ruinous in how good he is. No one will ever be able to compare. Tim is his. Just his.
Waking up and nearly yeeting the Dram Stone through the nearest wall.
Tim of course... dream fucks several teammates, a couple Hot Celebrities, and that one GORGEOUS Alien Prince from that one mission when he was like 14. *siiiiiips morning coffee* was an interesting night. Given everyone's thousand yard stare, good to see it wasn't just him who Learned Some Stuff About Themselves last night.
He'll agree not to ask if they don't?
DEAL.
-🐼🐼🐼
everyone but tim grappling with their own existence, morality, and guilt at the breakfast table 😭😭😭
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I have been CHILLING this week post-Vengeance saga release! I managed to avoid debilitating stress and anxiety from the onslaught of fan stuff by simply avoiding all social media for the first two days, so it's been good!
However, I am now BACK, dumping my immediate reaction of the saga from a week ago. I thought I was ready. I was not ready. 600 Strike blew my mind. I was left staring blankly at my ceiling. Jorge please rest sometime, I'm begging you. The amount of talent beaming through my screen is exhausting even me.
Also, to every cast member and collaborator and behind the scenes person: y'all are amazing. Like seriously. I hope you all get a yummy drink and a cozy blanket and just. Bask in the satisfaction of a job well done. Hats off to y'all fr.
Anyways! I keysmashed the following at around midnight, 14 hours before the livestream ('cause australia is the superior timezone /j). Be warned there's LOTS of swearing 'cause sleep deprivation + incoherent excitement lol
AHHH IT'S GO TIME
Ok it's starting the same as the Goodspeed festival showed. Tho, the first lead in sound thing reminds me of Lucids.
Gorgeous vocals. Hate Calypso, love Wangui fr
"Let me speak!" She really doesn't care about his feelings huh. I noticed in LIP as well, she always makes it about her, which is absolutely in character.
Those ensemble harmonies tho!!
"... You do?" Girl you literally told him to lie smh
"Why in the world won't you love me too?" 'Cause he has a WIFE
IT'S HERMES TIME
FSA melody? YO??
"Cause I had one goal in mind..." the silence where the crew's chorus would come in is PAINFUL
BAG?? HERMES!!
"Hello old friend!" Grinning so hard rn
"Well it's a little bit ✨dangerous✨" AHHH IT'S HAPPENING
Fingertapping and headbopping to this chorus
"Put your whole braiin in it!" I love how he says that sm
"And lastly the wind bag" NEW STUFF
WINIONS
Wow ok I did not expect the wind bag to show up again. Tho it makes sense; this is probs the storm that Ody told Sirenelope kept blocking the way home
ODY SINGING THE CHORUS!!!!
RUTHLESSNESS MENTION
"Hermes! Thank you" AHHH THE CALLBACK! He sounds so tired and like down to his bones grateful this time 🥺
"I'm not the one who fought for you!" MY EYES WIDENED SO FAR. WE ALMOST GOT AN ATHENA NAMEDROP. I'll settle for the reference to her
Okeee. Charybdis!!
Oooh it's just like in the reference vid. No lyrics for this start part!
The 5/4 is amazing. And the electric guitar!!
God this song is SO BADASS
LETS GOOOO ODY!!!
ahhh I KNEW there'd be some sort of soft KYFC esque "I can't wait to make some new memories" type verse AND I WAS RIGHT
he sees ithaca!! Oh god poseidon's gonna show up isn't he
my heart's beating so fast i'm scared
PENELOPEEE
the ELECTRONIC DISTORTION OH NO IT'S HIM
RIGHT INTO GET IN THE WATER AHHH
"Coward" AHHHH I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE FINALY HEARING THIS FOR REAL
"That's when our paths collide!" THE RASP
"Now get in the water" Oh shiiiit here we go
the choir is so eerie
"GET IN THE WATER" THE GROWL
"aren't you tired poseidon" ooh it's this part!!
ha he changed it to ten years instead of eight like the demo had XD
"maybe you can learn to forgive" the line from that one snippet!
"No" oop
"DIE" DAMN that deep echo!!
*underwater sounds* oh shit ody's fucking dying
NO! FUCKING POLITES
EURY
ANTICLEA
FUCK YOU JORGE
THE CREW
WAITING??? EXCUSE ME WTF
AHHHHHH WHY TF DOES JAY LOVE HURTING US SO
HUH? HUH??? WHAT WAS THAT! AND THERE'S A FUCKING AD. Probs good, I need the break but WAHT. I KNEW he'd do another fucking polites reference gods damnit jorge WHEN I CATCH YOU
Ok time to hear 600 strike. Holy shit we're here
ELECTRIC GUITAR LETS GOOO
Aeolus theme. IS HE GONNA OPEN THE WIND BAG AGAIN??
600 MEN MOTIF HOLY SHIT
ANIME SCREAM
HOly shit there's magic sounds happening. I'm really curious about whatever Jorge's cooking up for the animatic in the livestream, 'cause I have no clue what's happening rn 👀
"For every comrade!" FSA melody!
"all those _ who were slaughtered by your hand" hmm I can't quite hear what he's saying there?
wait wait wait he's ACTUALLY using the power of his 600 men!!
"You idiot" damn lol
DIFFERENT BEAST ODY HOLY SHIT
is that a blade sound effect?
WAIT DID HE JUST STAB HIM WITH HIS OWN TRIDENT
HOLY SHIT ODY
HOLY FUCK
POP OFF ODY
OMG "MONSTER" AND THEN "RUTHLESSNESS"
BRO HE'S BEGGING??
*trident drops* hot damn ody
"Next to my wife." OHHHHHHH MIC DROP
Holy FUCK that was crazy
I'm gonna listen to it again.
Ok but holy shit Odysseus literally just tortured a god until he gave in?? Daym ody
Tho I like how he tries using open arms first, and then ruthlessness. He's kinda found a balance? I say kinda, 'cause he went hard on the ruthlessness, but since he sincerely tried to ask Poseidon to just drop the whole thing already, his later actions in 600 Strike feel more warranted.
I honestly don't know how Jorge keeps doing it. He just keeps topping himself! Like! Thunder Bringer? And then God Games?? And now Six Hundred Strike??? They just keep getting better! Banger after banger, like!! How.
Wait I just wanna. Sit with it. Imma lie down and stare at the ceiling for a bit, aight?
... I am shooketh.
But BRO THAT WAS INSANE! ODY FUCKED HIM UPPP
AMAZING BRAVO EXTRODINARY INCREDIBLE SHOWSTOPPING GORGEOUS WONDERFUL HOW DARE YOU
#long post#my posts#epic the musical#epic the vengeance saga#immediate reaction#jorge rivera herrans#pay for my therapy
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One shot PJ idea related to your latest tidbit about Percy biting Apollo (lol)
Maybe everyone starts taking a break from the whole “eating Percy whenever they get a chance” thing because Poseidon commanded them to do so after the biting incident. So now it’s been a couple weeks (you can adjust this time period to whatever you think makes sense) since Percy has been nommed and Percy’s kinda going nuts from sleep deprivation and missing the comfort of being held inside a god. He was initially relieved that they’ve giving him space but now he’s kinda peeved that he has to be the one to initiate the noms so he can actually sleep. He ends up having to awkwardly go up to Poseidon/Triton and actually ASK to be tucked away. Noms commence and everyone feels better cause Percy can now sleep soundly and the gods feel relieved knowing that Percy is more comfortable with noms now :3
Hehehe I love it Just the idea that Percy is more than annoyed to have to ask for it. Like sure it sucked being gulped down but having to ask is something thats worse because who asks for that?
A week. A week with little to no sleep whatsoever, with campers looking at him cautiously. He felt like the first week of camp again, with people avoiding him like a plague. Like he was different and dangerous. He was jumpier now, his hand in his pocket more often than not. Even Mr. D started to give him looks which further didn't help with this whole thing.
All because he had bitten Apollo. There weren't any more attempts from gods, not Apollo, Hermes, no one even tried it anymore not even Triton or his own Dad. It was driving him mad to be honest. He probably looked horrible, and the last straw was a new camper bursting into tears when he went to rescue them from a monster at the border.
How did he even do this?
He paced in front of the beach, trying to focus on the warmth of the sand, the soothing rush of water. That was hard considering his heart pounded in his chest, and the anxiety of a monster hunting him itched at his skin. "Prayer maybe?" He mumbles under his breath. Normally he didn't...he could probably count on his hand the few times he had reached out like that to his dad. Everything felt like it was spinning, his vision darkening every few seconds.
If he didn't get to sleep soon it was going to happen, and those types of dreams...
"Dad." He starts out, cringing when his voice cracks. He wets his lips and tries again, standing as firm as he could. "I... like really need you." He says after a second. "I'm not dying or anything I just... I really need you here."
Part of him expected nothing to happen, for his prayer to go unanswered, or just to get a comforting breeze of sea air.
Pure relief flooded through his body when his vision filled with the stupid Hawaiian print shirt. Everything pitched forward, not realizing he was falling until arms encircled around him, steadying him. Poseidon smelt like the sea, and even just beginning in the vicinity made Percy feel like he was a puddle.
"Percy, what ails you, my son?"
"Sleep."
There was a pause, before Percy felt a hand tousle through his hair. If he hadn't been a puddle now, he certainly this moment. His eyes felt concrete, unable to open again. When he didn't get a response, he continued. "Eat me, and like don't argue I.. I need it." He whispers, bringing his hands up to grip the fabric of his dad's shirt. Poseidon was here, he could feel it. You couldn't feel hallucinations.
"You...you need it? I thought that it..." His dad's voice trails off, a panicky feeling rushing through Percy. he couldn't refuse, he couldn't just leave.
"No! No! I need it, don't me make beg please- I just I was so tired of no one asking or stopping. But I need it. I can't sleep, eating is so hard and-and I made a camper cry!" he rambles, feeling build up behind his eyes. Oh he was going to cry. Wonderful. "Don't make me beg...please dad."
There wasn't a response which made him antsy, until the warmth instantly enveloped him. When had he shrunk? Did he shrink? All he saw was darkne- oh he hadn't opened his eyes yet. Still, he sunk into the odd embrace eagerly. Percy's brain went numb after that, the familiar motions rocking him much like being on a boat. Next time he swore he was just going to dive into the ocean.
The rushing in his ears soon replaced with the steady thumping of his dad's heart, the deep breaths of the god. At least he had remembered that. The silence would've been worse. He was struggling to stay conscious when a swallow rolled over him, muscles tugging him deeper into the core of the god. This, after a week, was pure bliss.
After that day, Percy found he didn't need to ask anymore, which was great but also awkward in some sense. "I'm fine Triton, I promise." he says with a sigh, stretching slightly as he ran the forms again with the younger campers. "Feet further apart kid, yep- yeah that's it." He says with a small smile, the kid beaming.
"You didn't sleep last night; father did not have you nor did Hermes or Apollo." Triton points out, his eyes wandering over to the group of eager demigods copying stances. "I will do it right here if you refuse." He adds on, smirking when Percy went ridged. "After this group. Deal?"
"Deal."
It was a routine now, asking who had either tucked the boy away or simply had sat next to the boy. At times oddly enough it would be Mr. D, sitting with the boy and ensuring he was sleeping. It wasn't a bad system, although it was agreed that no one would proceed if Percy was genuinely against it, Apollo agreeing as he still felt guilt provoking Percy to that point.
#soft vore#safe vore#pjo vore#extreme cuddling#protective vore#endosoma#comfort vore#pjo soft vore#vore mentioned#g/t vore
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Hi Key 👋 I am once again sleep deprived and bothering people. Don't worry, I won't put you through another round of either/or😅
Since there are "Top 5" polls going around, I was wondering: 1) Now that KristSingto have returned to us and are serving exes to lovers goodness, what top 5 genres/tropes would you like to see from them in regards to any future projects?
2) Now that BounPrem are with GMM, (besides Krist and Singto which I fully believe you will manifest🤞) what top 5 artists would you like to see them work with? Solo or paired.
Please never feel pressured to answer anything I send lol I'm just a curious bean.
P.S. Now that I finally have some free time, I can't wait to catch up on your fics, "Fireproof" and "Heart Like Gold" are top of my list! I just finished reading "Anew" and absolutely loooooved it ❤️
Awww I love answering questions! \o/ Thank you, OP, it’s lovely to be thought of like this!
And I hope you enjoy the new fics! <3 (I do need to update HLG soon.)
Okay so first up:
Top 5 Genres/Tropes I’d Like to See from KristSingto
1) Fantasy set in our world. And not necessarily time travel, but something like Be My Favorite where the stakes are high. They’re both so good at high drama, I need more of it from them together.
2) Established relationship. It’s my favorite trope. I love seeing couples already in love dealing with issues either in their relationship or in an Us vs. the World sort of situation.
3) Historical!!! I’d do literally anything to see them falling in love in early Ayutthaya fashion.
4) WEDDING. LET THEM GET FICTIONALLY MARRIED.
5) Soulmate stuff! I just love soulmate stuff. That’s how UWMA trapped me in here in the first place. :’)
Aaaand
Top 5 GMMTV Artists I’d Like to See BounPrem Work With (Besides KristSingto Because I’m Already Channeling All My Spiritual Power Behind that)
1) Aye!!! She’s so phenomenally talented so she’d be good for them to work with and hone their skills, and I also think she’d get along with Prem especially. She and Prem have very calming energy. Also just. She’s so sweet and she has social anxiety so I just want her to work with more kind people, and BounPrem are both fiercely loyal and fun to be around.
2) Gawin!!! I’m basically pairing the sweet and talented introverts with BP because they bring joy into the world of anyone they interact with. I also think they’d learn a lot from each other acting-wise since Gawin really honed his dramatic skills with Be My Favorite under Waa.
3) Namtan!!! God they’d be so funny together. She’s hands-down the funniest person at GMMTV and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she and Boun would be best friends immediately. Please. I beg.
4) Jan!!! I just want to see them hang out with my favorite actresses, basically. SWS was primarily dudes and GMMTV has such phenomenal actresses who honestly don’t get the opportunities they deserve. AyeJan and BounPrem and I’ll be happy.
5) Gun!!! I don’t think they’d become best friends or anything, I just think he’s talented and he’d challenge them to improve even more. So this one’s more a craft thing I hope for them.
#kiranokira answers#that was fun :D#i need so many kristsingto series man#and bounprem are gonna do amazing work now <3#kristsingto#bounprem
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Takes on how ESFP interacts with INTJ? 👀
hmm 😏 I think I would like to do a bullet list
✨ MISCOMMUNICATION ✨ all over the friggen place
it's like
the words that are used, go in two directions every time we talk, and we find ourselves on two completely different topics by the end lol
can't hold a proper conversation without getting frustrated by our opposite povs. from what I've seen, INTJs, although realistic, can be the worst of pessimists and will never miss an opportunity to rain on a sunny outlook. drives me nuts. huff.
aside from that, there is a certain kind of understanding that we have. with my case, it could be that having a similar past in depression, anxiety and an eating disorder brought me and my INTJ together in a very unique way.
frankly, INTJs will see (most) ESFPs as way too much, and will avoid them if they can. (I'm a 9 so this doesn't technically apply to me :P)
very often, ESFPs will find the INTJ's social oblivion hard to manage, but if it's the right mood for a philosophical discussion, they might surprise you.
surprise, surprise, we can talk about other things besides shopping and drinking. crazy, I know.
I think ESFPs overall respect INTJs and who they are as people, seeing that they're brainy, nerdy, quirky, clever, awkward, even kind and sweet and so much more; its a rewarding experience, getting to know an INTJ
I hope that the INTJs out there have a healthy, mature ESFP to experience the world with. being Ni dominant seems like you can easily get lost in the sauce of horrible scenarios and inevitable panic and I believe an Se dom is the perfect person to widen the outlook and make the physical work seem less scary I guess.
I truly think the types can bring the best out of their opposites, if both parties are willing to try.
I actually wrote a whole thing about my INTJ cousin and how he looks from my viewpoint:
this was fun! let me know if it needs anything else. I'm delirious from sleep deprivation soooo...
should prolly reread this before I post it but whatever
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Here's a fic I TRIED to finish on Friday the 13th but I was too wrapped up in creating a gift for someone. Uhh wanna note: THIS IS A HUMAN AU/THE TOONS ARE HUMANS this is for a lore reason! Anywho while I do have an idea where this AU goes/leads I wanna make a note that this is kinda a one shot? If there's an audience and some folks are intrigued I'll consider continuing this. Just ask lol, anyways with that outta the way—WARNINGS!: MURDER, BLOOD, & CHILD DEATH!! (that's all, enjoy!)↓
Victims NO. 4 & 5
The night was cold as the married couple drove in their car down to the scene of a crime. Both were asleep in their beds only a few minutes ago, they were forced to awake after their friend at the station gave them a call. Oswald reached into his glove compartment and popped a small caffeine tablet into his mouth. He could have perhaps brewed himself a fresh pot before he left or maybe stopped by a gas station to get himself something but he didn't want to waste any time. The crime scene wasn't going anywhere but he felt like every second he didn't dedicate to solving this spree of grizzly killings was time wasted. The pills used to be quick pick-me-ups so he could think straight, however over the last few weeks he had become more than reliant on them to keep him lively. Tonight was one of the few nights he managed to get some sleep finally, it was just his luck that another killing happened. Thankfully it was just him who was sleep deprived, unfortunately the reason why his wife was wide awake was because she heard the details of the call. While Oswald tried to keep the entire thing hush-hush, Ortensia caught wind of a few words shared that sent adrenaline coursing through her veins.
"2 bodies—"
"—Eyes gouged out—"
"—20 minutes after—"
"—ages 16 and 10..."
It was that last one that messed her up the most, that little detail making her stomach churn. She could piece the full story together only hearing those details that were given a bit too loud over the phone. From what it sounded like this was nothing more than the work of the sick fuck they had been trying to track down all this time. She couldn't fathom it, children, literal children being subjected to something so heinous and vile. Just the thought made her blood boil, the second she'd find the bastard who did it—
"Babe? You okay?"
Ortensia snapped out of her head, called to earth by the concerned voice of her husband. Not once did he look away from the road yet the long silence signaled him to know something was up.
"Babe?... You still sleepy?" He asked.
"No... No I'm not..." Looking at her husband she couldn't help but feel anger, he didn't tell her a thing about the case that he got an entire rundown on. Confronting him directly, she stared out the window at the dark scenery, trying her best not to get too mad "... I heard what Felix said, he's not exactly keen on whispering things"
Oswald flinched, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he glanced at his wife. Quickly composing himself he focused back on the road and muttered "I'm sorry... I just felt like it would be better if you didn't know"
"And find out while I'm already there? Yeah that's way better" she scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"I know! I know! I'm sorry it's just–it's just–just–" Between the pills taking effect and the pain he felt for lying to his wife he couldn't help but stutter. Quickly he did his best to compose himself, stopping at a stop sign he took a breath and looked for any oncoming cars. With not a soul in sight he exhaled and continued on, "I didn't want to off-put you on this... I know you want to catch this guy as much as I do yet I know you don't do kid cases"
Ortensia's expression softened as she turned to her husband, the man rapidly thumping his foot against the floorboard out of clear anxiety making any anger she felt fade away. She could never truly stay mad at him, as much as it did hurt to know he kept this information pointlessly private in the end it was because he cared. He was absolutely right in the sense that she didn't deal with cases involving kids, it hurt too much. This was different though, this time she'd tackle past pain and carry on in hopes to find this killer and put an end to his killings.
Putting a hand on Oswald's thigh Ortensia sighed "... I understand honey, we're in this together though, that means if you know something I also know it"
"I understand... It won't happen again" Oswald gave a small smile and started to drive with one hand, the other going towards his wife's which he squeezed tightly.
Ortensia squeezed his hand back, resting her head on his shoulder. She appreciated the small moment of peace they had before they would be thrust into whatever dark residue a killer left behind.
It wasn't long after that until they arrived on the scene, the lot of a famous movie studio. They obviously couldn't drive right in, a gate blocked their entry, luckily waiting there at the gate was their friend Felix. The dark haired slightly chubby chief of police opened the gate and gestured for them to drive on in. Once the car passed the gate he locked it back up and made his way over to the driver's side door.
Knocking at the window, he waited for Oswald to roll down the tinted glass before saying "you sure got here fast–"he stopped midway, noticing Ortensia in the passenger seat "Oh! Whiskers... I uhh, didn't expect you to come out with Oz" Felix also knew of Ortensia's weak stomach for children cases, his tone one full of shock that she showed up.
"I'm on the case as much as Ozzie is, I didn't hear the full story though, mind explaining what happened?"
"Mmm, I didn't give Oz the full thing either"
"Wait—you didn't?" Oswald piped up "What'd you leave out then?"
Felix winced, looking over in the distance he pulled away from the window and gestured for them to follow "I'll explain once ya see what went down—bodies were already wheeled out... It's just blood left"
Ortensia could tell that little detail was added just for her sake, some sort of reassurance so that she wouldn't get squeamish. It felt patronizing yet after seeing Oswald lie for the sake of protecting her she knew Felix was doing something similar. It was nice to know she had such thoughtful friends, although she didn't pay any attention to the small kindness. What she was concerned with was the way Felix talked, his tone and even his demeanor was... Off?
As the couple got out of their car and followed Felix across the lot on foot, Ortensia nudged her husband to get his attention.
"Hmm?" He turned to her "what is it?"
Lowering her voice to a whisper she remarked "do you see anything wrong with Felix?"
"..." Looking over at his friend Oswald made a snarky comment "he didn't make a god awful joke?"
Although joking Ortensia nodded "actually yes, we both know he loves his dark humor and everytime he calls us out to one of these he always tries to lighten things up"
"Well, you think there's some joke to be made here?" Oswald raised an eyebrow "Maybe he finally learned how to read a room and not be insensitive"
"Mmm... Maybe you're right"
The two fell silent, Ortensia still bothered by Felix who led them to an area below a water tower. When the man said there was blood he meant it, Felix's car's headlights illuminated a small portion showing the lower metal poles of the water tower drenched with red. It got even worse when they looked at the ground and saw fired blood extending for several feet outside of two small chalk outlines. Ortensia instinctively took a step back, the mental image at what went down almost making her vomit. Oswald immediately noticed and wrapped an arm around her, she quickly calmed herself and gave a nod to signify she was okay and stepped back up.
Felix lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag off of it before scratching his head "security guard called in a few hours ago... Didn't hear a thing and I waited for things to get less messy before calling ya in, Oz"
"Don't, once you've seen the first victim this bastard has made you know what to expect" Oswald took one last look at his wife before letting go, walking around the pools of blood on the ground he surveyed the area for anything out of the ordinary "so you catch the story of what happened before everything went down?"
Felix nodded "Security guard said three kids who worked here as actors always would stay after hours and hang out around this water tower, when he came to shoo them out as usual he found 'em sprawled out on the floor"
Oswald perked up at his friend's words, looking at the chalk outlines he quickly pointed out the inconsistency. "You said there was only 2 bodies, where's the other?"
Felix went silent, he didn't turn to face Oswald as he tried to maintain apathy about the entire situation "Third kid... The middle child of the bunch got out unscathed, we got him in custody down at the station"
"Custody!?" Oswald looked around, puzzled at the word choice.
Felix could see his friends confusion and swallowed a ball of spit in his throat "Ya see Oz–"
"Hay Ozzie!" Ortensia interrupted, her voice distant and around a corner "I got footprints, they match the ones we found the last 3 times!"
Oswald immediately rushed over to his wife, following the sound of her voice much to the chief of police's dismay. Felix's cigarette fell out of his mouth as he was quick to follow in hopes to explain something dire. He didn't get a chance though, instead shock took over as he saw what the two others saw. On the floor laid a blood stained knife, the asphalt damp in an area where the tears of the survivor had fallen.
"... Felix...I thought you said the third was unscratched?"
"He is Oz, this is just where we found him when we were called, the security guard didn't see the kid"
Ortensia covered her mouth as she realized what this meant, her eyes filling up with tears of her own "they... They had to watch as their siblings were..." She couldn't bring herself to say it, her body trembling from the full extent of the situation "oh god..."
Oswald immediately pulled Ortensia into a hug, patting her on the back as he turned to Felix "the kid must have seen the killer's face right? If you have him down at the station I don't know what the hell we're doing here when we need to find out who this sicko is"
Felix scratched his head, desperately trying to think of something "there's a lot too it Oz, if ya give me a second I can explain there's some security camera footage that–"
"Security cameras!?" Oswald repeated in a surge of excitement. He was almost in disbelief, the prospect that they had caught whoever did this on film filled him with a rush that put the caffeine tablets he took to shame. He wiped away his wife's tears, his breaths shallow as he tried to give her a reassuring smile that this entire line of killings was over "HA! Security camera footage, we got him! We actually got him!"
Ortensia gave a shaky sigh of relief and buried her face into her husband's shoulder, whispering thanks out "oh thank the Lord... Thank the Lord, nobody else will have to–"
"CAN I SPEAK!?"
All excitement faded as they looked to see Felix, his face being one unrecognizable. The earlier sentiment Ortensia had that something was off was right as Felix's face was one that held horror. Seeing fear—no—genuine *dread* on his face was all but too startling for the couple who were used to seeing the jolly chief be nothing but jokes. The yell was even more startling, to hear what Felix sounded like with a raised voice made them fearfully look at each other. The look they shared made Felix turn away realizing his outburst helped no one, instead lowering his voice, he got straight to it as he trembled.
"The footage... You REALLY need to see the footage okay?"
Ortensia and Oswald looked at each other, understanding that whatever this was, this took priority. And priority it did as Felix brought them over to his car where he opened up his trunk to grab his laptop, the security footage already pulled up. He placed the laptop on the back of his car and pressed play, stepping back for all of them to see in clear view.
At first it seemed normal, the footage was 4 screens showcasing different parts of the studio lot, the entire thing being sped up and holding no audio. If they didn't know any better they would just assume it was footage of 3 kids goofing around in a lot underneath a water tower. Eventually though the middle child left, leaving the youngest and eldest there, the girl and boy shared equal amounts of confusion as their brother left so abruptly. That confusion soon turned to worry, the footage showing a whole hour passed before both started pacing back and forth, most likely worrying for their brother. It was right around the 3 AM mark of the video did Felix take the liberty to slow it down getting exactly what happened before two lives were lost. The eldest and youngest were talking about something unknown, their mouths moving on camera before both stopped at what one could only assume was some sort of sound. Whatever the sound was, it scared them half to death as both stood frozen for a second, the eldest telling his sister to wait while he investigated. The footage from that point became choppy, static cutting in and out as they saw the youngest disobey the orders and courageously follow her brother much to his dismay and reluctance. With both siblings in tow they moved off the first panel's sight, crossing over into the second and third as they investigated. Behind them hung a passing shadow, a blink and you'll miss it moment where it showed something dash across frame and follow them. Oswald and Ortensia couldn't look away as the kids finally landed in the sights of the fourth camera lens showcasing their last moments. The brother and sister anxiously walked until they were stopped by the sight of their own brother standing in the moonlight, knife in hand. The couple's hearts sank to their stomach and blood ran cold at the sight, the young boy had a blank smile on his face as he took a step forward with malicious intent.
Then it just ended, as quick as it came the footage ended. Static replaced anything visible promoting Felix to press a button and pause it.
"That's where it ends..." Is all Felix had to say leaving the two detectives with no answers and only questions.
#fanfiction#my fanfiction#skitzothe1920skillerbear#fanfic#oswald the lucky rabbit#ortensia whiskers#tw: death#AU#my au#felix the cat#wanna note if it ain't obvious the children are the Warners#sorry the warner siblings had to die#tw: blood#tw: child death#also this IS skitzo related#you can assume Skitzo's role in this right?#detective au
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Hello, I'm back!
Merry meet everyone! I know I've been MIA for literally years now, hahaha. My life has been a complete and total caos. I moved from Mexico City back to my hometown which was a HUGE change after 10 years, BUT, the Universe definitely knew what it was doing.
Even though I got extremely depressed the first year (2022) later I understood why I came back. I'm so grateful because I get to be with my family again, which makes me really happy. Also seeing again one of my fur babies: Kona, my oldest cat 🐱 has been amazing too. I then adopted a new kitten whom I named, Rin.
In January of 2023 I went into surgery for a condition in the bones of my feet, which led me back to being depressed, lol, because I literally wasn't allowed to walk for 1 month and the two that followed were pretty miserable, the recovery was really slow, or at least that's what I felt in the moment. But at the same time it was beautiful because the universe sent me the most amazing human being in the planet, my partner. We met and it has been the most heartwarming relationship. Every single day, ever since we met, I've been so grateful for having an incredible soul by my side.
Yesterday, marked one year of the surgery, and wow, I've really used my new feet hahaha. I've went to more concerts and music festivales than I could count (totally blame my boyfriend who luckily is addicted to them because I love music too), I went to Europe with my mom and my aunt obviously walked like crazy hahaha, but it was totally worth it. Having the opportunity to see different cultures, tons of art and to travel with my mom, was definitely a core memory to me.
I decided to start a small business because one of my biggest dreams is to have my own brand and concept store in which I sell my art. It has been quite a ride hahaha, but totally worth it. I literally work 20/7, not joking hahaha. Sometimes I sleep so late trying to figure things out and my anxiety and the way I tend to overthink everything deprives me from sleeping, BUT, it has thought me a lot of positive things. One of them, being the most important: Give myself some rest.
That is exactly why I'm here ☺️ because these past years I forgot one of the biggest parts of my life: My spirituality. And even tho I kept on celebrating the sabbaths, and doing a little magic here and then, I completely blocked most of it.
As of lately everything has been finally falling into the right path and I couldn't be any happier.
I really really hope everyone is doing amazing this 2024. I want to hear what you guys have been up to, and let me know what you'll like to see next! I was thinking on doing a post about amulets and talismans.
Blessed be y'all,
May
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Rest, Damn You [Val/Reader Fic + Headcanons]
As a sleep-deprived Val stan...this request is not only appreciated but SO valid :'D ILY Anon. Gonna do both HC's and a fic because I love this so much.
Kept this as ambiguous as possible so it can be either modern AU or normal AU. 🤭 Headcanons are under the fic.
Synopsis: You can't sleep. Irritation and restlessness are a cocktail that you unwillingly sip. Yet you forced a smile onto your face and tried acting like you weren't dying of exhaustion.
Warnings: Mentions of sex. But it's Val...what did you expect lol
(❁)----------------------------------------------------------------------
You couldn't stop your eye from twitching. Really, it was out of your control. The hiss you made earlier as the sun invaded your sight? Out of control, too.
It's as if the sandman hated you. Sleep was an itch you couldn't scratch, no matter what you've done. Lavender didn't work. Rainy nights didn't work. Not even the sounds of nature could calm your mind.
It was killing you.
...Not really, but it felt like it.
Everything had irritated you to no end. But it wasn't anyone's fault for your sleeplessness. So you kept a tired smile on your face at all times, taking in deep breaths when something annoyed you.
No one had noticed, really.
Except for Val.
It was inevitable. They knew everything. They read you like a book when you first met, and that hasn't changed. Not one bit.
So when your eye twitched for the 50th time that day, they had raised a brow, confused. You weren't okay.
Your body language suggested exhaustion...clumsiness, a lack of reaction to anything. And yet you took it all in stride, a smile on your face as if nothing was wrong.
They confronted you after your conversation with a heretic had ended. They took your arm into their hand, gently pulling you to them.
"Are you alright, my love?"
It was rhetoric. The look in their eye suggested that they knew.
With a sigh, you shook your head. Your eyes burned and teared up whenever possible. But you couldn't sleep. "Not...really."
They hummed, their pupils scanning your face. You felt like prey with them. "And why is that? What is troubling you?"
They wanted to hear it from you.
"Uhhh..." you slowly blinked, your eyes teary once more trying to keep themselves moist from lack of rest. They stayed silent, waiting for you to finish. You huffed. "I'm exhausted."
That was obvious. But you were only ever this exhausted after a night of fun. The both of you would fall into each other and pass out, nuzzling into one another, warm and satisfied. You'd be right as rain, afterward. But you hadn't had that kind of fun in days due to business.
This was another kind of exhaustion. The kind you get after depriving yourself of sleep.
They tilted their head a bit, staring into your eyes, and a slim finger came up to wipe away at a stray tear. Silently, they urged you to go on.
Their touch was nice.
"Just can't sleep." You shrugged. You had no answers, really. Sleep was just a pain in the ass.
"Could there be a cause of your restlessness, my love?" They questioned quietly. "Anxiety, perhaps? You know you're safe..."
"No, no. I don't think so, anyway." You swallowed, your head tilting forward before you caught it. Val merely chuckled, wiping away at your forehead to push your hair back.
"Well," They hummed once more, taking your face into their hands. Your cheeks were squished. "We need to get to the bottom of this, you know. You cannot be restless...it's unhealthy."
"And what do you suggest?" You speak through puckered lips due to their gentle squeezing of your face, and they chuckle, pecking you before speaking.
"Helping you sleep, of course. I'm free of my duties." They said with a kind smile before moving to grab your hand in order to guide you back to bed.
"Val...it's the middle of the day."
They looked back at you, a brow raised with a playful look on their face. "And? Since when did we follow rules, darling?"
Touche.
It's as if Val made everything better. Because as you lay close to them, reveling in their body heat, heavy rain pelted outside, frogs began to croak, and you could finally feel the void of sleep embrace you, much like Val did the moment you nodded off.
(❁)----------------------------------------------------------------------
Restlessness is not a healthy thing. And Val wants nothing more than for you to be healthy. How else will you have orgies with them?? Joking, but not really. In general, they want you pristine.
Definitely picks lavender and will shove it into your pillow to help you sleep. I can see them rubbing it on them as well if you're sleeping in the same bed. Which is every night, all night.
Gets pissed if someone wakes you up, or ruins the calm atmosphere they crafted just for you.
Remedies whatever is causing you to stay awake. Knoth and Marta? They're irrelevant. They are far too focused on squishing some man named 'Blake' to concern themselves with you. Migraine? They'll make the whole area go silent if need be.
Mama bear 100%.
They will be physically affectionate as you try to drift off. Soft trailings of their fingers on your face, your shoulders, your back...
Not opposed to massages. Yes, they'll try and stay away from your more sensitive bits until you're feeling better.
They hum. This is a canon event. They will hum a song as they hold you tight and rock. "Oh be careful little eyes what you see..." as they lightly pet your face.
If it's due to an injury, they'll do what they can to numb the area and grant you relief. They are no doctor, but they'll do what they can.
Sometimes, restlessness is caused by emotions. Maybe you need to vent. Or get a secret out. They will lend you a loving ear if need be.
When I'm restless, it's due to outside factors, like storms. I hate storms. If you're like me, they'll put hands over your ears or put your head to their chest and hum. Their heartbeat is a nice remedy to the thunder outside.
#i love this#this is so convenient considering i haven't slept well in a week#ily anon#outlast#outlast fanfiction#val#outlast val#outlast 2#outlast headcanons#outlast hcs
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Tourettes Awareness Month, May 26th!
Kinda lost track of the days so just gonna stop counting them and just do the date instead 😅
Today I'm going to go over some of my pet peeves/frustrations that are related to my tics/TS, or people reacting to it. Some of these I've mentioned before but I'll try to include new ones as well, don't mind my bitter old man persona coming out lol.
⚠️Everyone who has TS or tic disorders will have different experiences, this is just mine
Dentists!
So I have had a lot of bad experiences with dentists, even before my tics were severe enough to be diagnosed and now its even worse. Bc I'm anxious for the dentist, my tics can actually get really bad in the days leading up to it and the day of. I'm also prone to shut downs with dental stuff, so it's almost a double whammy. Luckily my most recent experiences with dentists have been really positive, and they've been extremely patient with me. However when I get a bad dentist the experience pretty much back tracks all the progress I had been making with the good ones.
It can just be really hard to manage my tics during an appointment, and I'm more prone to tic attacks in the days leading up to said appointment, even if I know who I'm seeing is good. This is starting to pass now tho and I actually went back with the dentist on my own for the first time since I was 7 or so last month.
Sleep interrupting!
Being too tired to sleep is a pretty common occurrence for me, unfortunately. When I'm sleep deprived I get more tics than usual, especially in my legs. Usually my legs don't tic bc I sit in ways that make it difficult (criss cross, one leg under the other, on my knees, ect), but when I'm laying down to sleep, it's much harder to find a position that stops leg tics. If I can't stop them, I end up kicking myself over and over, usually right as I'm about to fall asleep so I kick and I'm wide awake again. Some nights it only happens for like 10min and then I can sleep, but other nights it'll be HOURS. On the longer nights I'll try to sleep with my legs crossed or sitting up criss cross, but that's really hard to do sometimes. Most of the times on those nights I just give up on sleeping all together. The days after I don't sleep, I'm more twitchy and prone to attacks, then I either am allowed to sleep that night or just pass out from exhaustion after an attack.
Pre-tic premonition!
Sometimes I'll know I'm about to tic, and I can see I'm going to hurt myself or I know I'm going to throw something and there is literally nothing I can do, I'm just stuck knowing until the tic hits unless I suppress it, which doesn't always works, usually causes recoil, and can HURT.
Thunder!
So I used to love thunderstorms, and find peace in them, but as my tics got more severe, my relationship with thunder changed. Rolling thunder is okay but booming thunder makes me tic like crazy, as in when it's frequent enough I will tic myself dizzy or give myself a migraine. I of course live in a thunderstorm heavy area 😅
BTW if you're into mediocre poetry and have a spare dollar or a Kindle unlimited account, I actually wrote about this in my book I Want To Love the Thunder under the name Fen Lotor only on Amazon
People!
I was going to get into this a lot but honestly the stories kinda deserve their own post, mainly bc it'd be long and people may want to skip it bc the stories could be triggering so I'll generalize here-
1. People making me tic on purpose (luckily a rare occurrence but a really fucking shitty one)
2. People staring (yes its strange, and I understand glancing at me but sometimes people just stare until my tics stop but if I know someone is staring I tic more from the anxiety)
3. Stereotypes (a given)
4. Asking me questions while I'm actively having a tic attack (99% of the time I'm super open about questions but people sometimes don't ask until I'm having a severe attack even if they've seen minor tics or know I'm tourettic)
5. Balloon decor (maybe I'm biased bc I haven't been somewhere w balloon decor since prom but it seems anytime balloons are used as decor there is at least one person intent on popping them)
6. Immediately panicking when I start ticcing (it's less frequent now w people who know me but as soon as people know my tics CAN be caused by something negative they seem to think they are ALWAYS caused that way, no matter what I say so they start panicking and asking what's wrong and won't take "nothing is wrong" as an answer which stresses me out and makes me tic more)
7. 4th of July (this makes me sound like a scrooge and a hypocrite bc I like fireworks. I also don't mind headphoning up and blocking it out for a bit, but for some reason people around me celebrate from 6pm to 3am, July 1st-July 7th, and it's not even dark until 8pm or later)
Okay ended up ranting a bit lol. Thank you for reading, and as always my asks are open if anyone is curious or has questions I'll answer the best I can 😊
Also adding my cooking with Tourette's tag if anyone is curious. I almost included some info on cooking here but it doesn't really bother me enough to be a pet peeve
#fentics#cooking with tourettes#tourettes awareness month#tourette syndrome#tourette's#tic disorder#tics and tourettes#tics
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hi i exist and have just made this lovely whump blog!!!!
what's up friends???? i have just decided to make a whump blog because i have been so into whump in the past few years while i've been on tumblr on another account and today i decided, fuck it, i wanna be part of the whump community on tumblr! it looks lovely! so here i thought i'd make an intro/master post with everything y'all need to know about me so i can find some friends!!! and i will add to this as needed so yall have information about me that is real and true lol
and i'm new here so please if you're an established member of the whump community and could point me to blogs you like to follow, thatd be swell!
basics:
my name is Basil! it is not my real name lol!
I use he/they pronouns though sometimes i think xe/xem/xyr would be cool so i wouldnt mind that either :]
i'm 18 years old!
i have a main blog so i'm familiar with tumblr but i'm not going to share that because i don't want this to have anything to do with that life! i will say though that i write fanfiction for a small fandom and that's how i got into whump because i write a lot of hurt/comfort :D know that the characters from that fandom are always a little bit in my head when i'm reading or writing whump <3333
whump likes/dislikes:
i like:
soft caretaking! soft! caretaking! so many like, hardcore whump things are fun for me as long as there's soft caretaking at the end. that's my endgame really. it's all about that hurt/comfort!! woo!!!!!!
sickfic!
touch starved whumpees. i live and die for that shit
panic attacks/anxiety attacks/general anxiety! as someone who suffers from anxiety myself i really enjoy reading about characters having anxiety and getting taken care of and soothed
sleep deprivation/insomnia/sleepy whumpees getting taken care of. i am known in my fandom life for writing sleepy fics all the time haha
nightmares
crying at all, really. i just. i like it when characters cry man
did i mention soft caretakers? thats important
i tend to pretty much write whumpee x caretaker romantically (in my fandom hurt/comfort fics it is usually one character in a ship hurt and the other comforting them) but i am also cool with platonic whumpee + caretaker relationships!
i could have a good time with pet whump i think???? i just, again, i want them to escape at the end and be taken care of by a caretaker who helps them ease into being their own person again
i don't like:
whump with no comfort/no caretaker/no happy ending/etc. all respect to it but it just makes me feel bad so- yeah i prob won't interact much with blogs who only post stuff like that!
any kinky whump. it just makes me feel super icky, please dont send me anything related to that. i don't mean i won't read/write/talk about anything nsfw in whump- i think the general rule is if whump is supposed to turn you, the reader, on then please count me out!! this is generally a sfw blog!
marvel whump or superheroes in general or hero/villain. anything of that sort
what i'm gonna do here:
if people send me requests for prompts/scenarios that i like i will happily oblige them!!!!!
may also just generally write some whumpy things
and mostly just reblogging whump posts that i like and seeing what's going on in this community! it's gonna be great guys i'm excited to be here :D
please send me any asks about anything at all times, or message me, whatever, always down to chat and befriend people <3333
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I think I passed my probation? I think? At least based on an implied representation by conduct? So my probationary period is supposed to end this month, but I got roped into a photoshoot and a lunch with other colleagues in August, and the vibes so far have been excellent, but honestly my previous job gave me so much PTSD that I genuinely struggle now to discern when someone in corporate is being genuinely nice lmao.
Anyhow, fingers crossed -- I've really enjoyed the past three months here and my boss is quite literally an angel, and I'm slowly healing from the trauma and sleep deprivation from my previous job lol. Happy to report that I am no longer logging off at 3am and going to bed and waking up with crippling anxiety (even if I still panic mildly each time my phone goes off, but my boss has been nothing but reasonable about timelines)!
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Hiiiii, here's some thoughts and things I've been pondering on over the last couple weeks (also might delete later idk lol, take this with a grain of salt because I'm a little tipsy, emotional from pms (and maybe a little bit of heartbreak), and also maybe sorta sleep deprived. okay thanks!) Also pro tip- don't watch sappy teen rom-coms when you're already a sensitive emotional mess!!!!
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I've been thinking a lot lately about relationships, in all forms, casual, romantic, family, friendships, deep relationships and surface level relationships, coworkers, acquaintances, community, blah blah blah you get the idea. Basic human connection baby. I've never really been the type of person to be casual or surface level about anything in my life, especially relationships. I sink into connection, always wanting to know more about people, looking for the deeper connection, never really satisfied with a tip of the iceberg, never really knowing anything about each other kind of connection(I blame it on my pisces moon and cancer venus lol). And at the same time, knowing the cost of that, knowing that I could know someone so deeply and the next second they could be done with all of it, has me running the other direction more often than not. And yes I know, people will not always be in your life forever, basic human condition and all that. But taking into account freedom of choice and miscommunications and attachment styles and people's own individual baggage and blah blah blah, everything that people bring into a relationship, be it platonic or romantic, influences how long that relationship will last. At least in my opinion it does. (and just to assure, I have since learned the art of managing my expectations when it comes to deeper connections and much lighter ones, even with my love and want for deep connections.) And it is inevitable that people will leave, for whatever reason, but that logic doesn't erase the hurt from that person not being there anymore. A lot of this train of thought came from both a recent disagreement with a friend that essentially ended said friendship, and me thinking that I could subject myself to casual dating relationships as a way to re-enter the dating world. In both of these situations, I found myself feeling small, unseen and unknown, and like something that could be easily discarded without a second thought. On the friendship side of it, there was so much connection and learning about each other that in the end, didn't matter and I ended up giving too much of myself to someone who wasn't able to reciprocate. And in the realm of dating and casual relationships, I thought I could re-enter that world, go on fun dates, be casual and learn what I like and dislike in all of it, learn to not jump into things so quickly, just have fun dating for once rather than having heart palpitating anxiety about it. Lol, nope, what dumb bitch thought that was a good idea??? It was fun for a half a second and then just made me feel frustrated and used(both emotionally and physically, hello orgasm gap) and honestly kind of exhausted at the whole of dating(but I'm trying to not give up for whatever reason) (also turns out men still think it's a great idea to send unsolicited dick pics in fucking 2024. Please, for the love of god, don't.) And sitting in all of this, having these experiences, feeling grief over all of it, is the thought that I am simply not made for superficial relationships. Sure there are people I may have a more casual connection with, but the feeling of being unknown to someone, of resigning myself to be the thing they want in order to have connection, feeling like someone isn't even the tiniest bit curious about me, is not something I was made for and no matter how much I try to fit myself into this idea of relationships that is so persistent now, I'm inevitably dissatisfied with it and feel worse than if I had just kept to myself. Connection and community is at the core of what it is to be human and we've gotten so backwards with that. If you read any or all of this, I'm telepathically giving you forehead kisses. Suffice it to say, I am a committed, loyal, curious, big feelings, social, connection oriented girlie and the way that relationships have become so superficial is so fucking soul draining.
#mine#text post#tldr#read later#I have a lot of thoughts and have been very emotional lately and now y'all know why
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Xanxus headcanos
( I think about alot. Mostly based off my one shot collection don't let me dream alone)
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• Xanxus has a shitty immune system and gets sick a lot
• He's touch straved
• Definitely sleep deprived
• He's Squalo's bitch (lol, jk. But not really 🤣?)
• Xanxus is a picky eater (this is literally canon) and also has issues with food
• He's secertly a soft boi and only Squalo knows (because duh it's Squalo)
• He's an introvert and prefers to spend time alone (sometimes with Squalo)
• He's got anxiety (lol, I'm definitely not self-projecting)
• Xanxus gets agitated if he doesn't have anything to do or stays still even for a while. It gives him zero point breakthrough flash backs.
• Probably has ptsd (like definitely from what he's gone through)
• Xanxus is emotionaly constipated and can't express his feelings properly. So, he just expressess it with violence or he's an akward grumpy mess trying to talk about feelings
• When he can't sleep, he often goes to Squalo's room.
• He's a power bottom (but also very needy and Squalo's always happy to oblige.)
• Xanxus can be clingy (but only while super sick or after a bad day or nightmare.)
• He needs alot of affection and reminders that everything's gonna be okay
• Xanxus is like a cat (a very grumpy cat)
• He has trust issues (obviously)
• Xanxus sucks at taking care of himself and has to be forced to rest
• He can't stand the cold and gets migraines every winter
• Xanxus is always in pain but is so use to it he doesn't feel it and won't know he's injured until he's passing out from blood loss or someone points it out or it gets worse
• He's immortal (anime logic aside. No one can survive being sealed up for eight years and the sky ring's rejection.)
• Him and Squalo secertly have a shotgun wedding after the ring battles in mafia land (the only people that were invited were Dino and Xanxus' guardians)
• Xanxus goes to Lussuria for advice (mostly cause Lussuria is the mom of varia and is the only one who gives good advice without needing to pay a fee and doesn't suggest murder as a soultion)
• Xanxus eventually accepts Tsuna as decimo (and teaches him to be less naive)
• Xanxus watches baby cartoons ( he never got to watch them as a kid and they give him comfort when Squalo’s not around. Though he'll deny it until the day he dies.)
• Xanxus wants Timoteo to love him or at least treat him more like a person instead of a tool to be used and discarded
• Xanxus genuinely needs time to grieve (the deaths of his adoptive bothers and the eight years that were stolen from him)
• Timoteo & his guardians don't take the varia seriously (and treat Xanxus like trash) .
• Zero Point Breakthrough screwed with Xanxus' sense of direction so his guardians put a tracker on him (definitely wasn't happy to find out)
#feel free to use any of these#xanxus headcannons#xanxus#khr#katekyo hitman reborn#xanxus x squalo#XS
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GUYS
I've been pronuncing Aurundelle's name wrong THIS WHOLE TIME. AND it's been confirmed.
So like, uh, during vacation (which I got back from on Wednesday but never made a post about sorry lol) my mom downloaded all the Wingfeather books on audible to her phone so we'd have something to listen to, and then we came to the chapters with Aurundelle, and I was excited, cause, y'know she's a tree (that sounds so mean I'm so sorry lmao) and she's like Artham's secret -not-so-secret girlfriend (which I think is adorable) and you know, stuff like that.
So ANYWAYS I noticed that Andrew pronounced her name like “AIR-un-delle" instead of the way I always thought it was pronounced, which is “Ar-un-delle"(as in,“are you ok") and I was like “huh ok, that's kind of strange but maybe it's just the way he pronounces it". But. BUT. That stupid little vicious, sleep deprived, anxiety -ridden rude editor-like voice in the back of my head awoke and was revived and was like “is it though?" *evil laughter*. Which is to say in simple terms that I wondered if I had pronouncing her name wrong this whole time.
So, today, I went on the Wingfeather website because I wanted to, and I saw this thing called “pronunciation guide" and I went there cause logic. That's when I saw it. That's when it was confirmed that I had been wrong this whole time. It said, and I quote, “Arundelle-AIR-un-delle"
I am in shock.
Not only have I been spelling her name wrong this whole time, but I've also been pronouncing it wrong this whole time...
So yeah, that's what I've been processing since like 4 this afternoon. Do I care? Yes, very much so. Will I spell and pronounce her name correctly from now on? No, absolutely not.
Anyways, yeah that's me ranting. I wish you all a happy existential crisis, if you, as well as I, have completely gotten her name wrong. If not then uh- have a good laugh
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I'm thinking for much of the rest of smegtober I'll have to switch to drawings because the writing part of my brain is getting fatigued lol but I managed to churn this last one out tonight ahead of the other one I have ready for tomorrow;;
As always, prompts are by @a-literal-toaster-wtf
Today's prompt was Test, which of course immediately calls forth images of Rimmer and his many examination attempts;;
Words: 4137
****
Rimmer had done it again. He had smegging gone and done it again.
Somehow, despite all the meticulous planning and obsessive timetabling, despite having carefully mapped out every hour of every day for the last few months to optimise his revision and maximise his chances of success, here he was again on the last night before the exam feeling no better prepared than he had been before he’d even started.
It always ended up like this. Every time exam season came around he would work tirelessly, relentlessly, trying to find a study pattern that worked, subdividing his free time evenly into rest periods and study periods, allocating every subject and topic its own slot to prioritise information retention. It should have been a flawless method, workshopped to the nth degree, sharpened and improved to perfection after so many attempts and yet even after all this effort, after all this time, the result was always the same; complete and utter humiliating failure.
Of course, the fact that much of this revision time was usually eaten up by preparing the timetables themselves in the first place was an important part of why he always found himself in this situation but he was loathe to do anything to change the habit, somehow convincing himself that it had only failed because he hadn’t found the perfect routine yet and that once he figured that out and constructed the timetable to end all timetables he would be golden and he could finally kiss the lowly rank of Second Technician goodbye.
The definition of madness, as they say, is trying the same thing over and over expecting a different result.
Huffing out a distressed, agitated breath, Rimmer dug the heels of his palms roughly into his eyes, rubbing vigorously until he saw stars. He had no idea what time it was anymore. The concept of time itself seemed to have faded into the background of his mind, locked away in a box he didn’t want to have to open because at this point knowing just how long he had left was likely to do nothing more than send him tipping fully over the edge of anxiety and into a full-blown panic attack and he knew from past experience that if he let that happen his shot at success would be over then and there.
He was virtually running on fumes at this point, the last few nights a desperate haze of stressed, sleep-deprived revising – if staring manically at an open textbook and taking absolutely none of it in for hours could really be called revising – and his eyes were positively burning with the effort it was taking just to keep them open.
His head ached. It was as though his very brain itself had swollen up in his skull, pressing up against the insides and throbbing profusely from the exertion of trying to cram multiple textbooks’ worth of knowledge into it in the space of a few hours. The pressure alone made him thankful for the relative silence of the bunkroom.
Lister was out. Some time ago he had disappeared off with the rest of his brainless gang of hooligan friends to drink himself to unconsciousness and dance until the early hours of the morning with whoever could stand to be around him. With any luck he might hit it off with some desperate tart who would take him off to her quarters and spare Rimmer the trouble of having to put up with a drunken Lister staggering his way back and breaking his concentration.
It was the only silver lining this whole situation had at the moment. With Lister out and suitably occupied for the night Rimmer didn’t have to battle against his textbooks while enduring the torture of listening to Lister utterly murder a halfway decent song with his toneless singing or his even more unbearable guitar playing.
Aside from the background hum of Red Dwarf all around, there wasn’t a single other disruptive sound to complain about – which also meant there wasn’t an adequate distraction to blame his imminent failure on if it came down to it later.
Removing his hands from his face, he blinked the room slowly back into focus and hunched forwards over his textbook again, feeling the tension in his neck and the ache between his shoulder blades from too long spent in this exact position.
He felt as though he had been stuck trying to read the same sentence for hours, as though his brain had stalled and he couldn’t move past it until it started up again. Oh sure, his eyes would skim the letters and recognise the shapes and the words were certainly words he knew individually but as far as the meaning of the sentence as a whole and the information it held were concerned, Rimmer had absolutely no idea what he was reading.
It was as though the part of his brain that registered new information had gone on strike. Nothing was getting through and all that he seemed to be achieving by continuing to try to force it to was making his head and eyes hurt even more.
He needed to rest but there was no time for rest anymore. Frankly he was terrified that if he even so much as allowed himself the briefest moment to nap then he would sleep right through the exam and have to go through this whole nightmare all over again. He wasn’t prepared for that. Revision was key right now and sleep could wait. He would have plenty of time (not to mention peace of mind) to be able to catch up on the rest he’d missed once the exam was over and he’d passed the stupid smegging thing.
Frowning down at the page he blinked furiously, finding it more and more difficult to keep the lettering clear and sharp in his vision. Everything was starting to smudge at the edges, to bleed into the space around it as though there was something in his eye that wasn’t budging no matter how much he tried to blink or rub it away.
He shook his head, leaning further forwards towards the textbook, squinting to see if maybe that would help sharpen things by narrowing his field of view but it was no use.
The harder he stared at it, the more desperately he attempted to take in so much as a single solitary sentence, the more the words on the page swam dizzyingly just to spite him, rippling and distorting before his very eyes until they better resembled a particularly unappetising-looking kind of alphabet soup than anything comprehensible.
He dropped his forehead down to rest between the pages of the textbook, eyelids scrunching shut as he groaned plaintively into the quiet of the room. Why was his brain conspiring against him at this hour? He only had hours left and it was betraying him. Why was he wasting time wrestling with himself like this when he only had a limited window of opportunity to make some good, solid progress before Lister came back and crashed unceremoniously through his focus with all the grace of a hippo let loose on an ice rink? He didn’t have time for this!
Just to drive home exactly how much the universe had it in for Arnold J. Rimmer, the moment that desperate thought had so much as flitted miserably across his mind his ears picked up the tell-tale distant hollers of giddy, raucous laughter emanating from somewhere outside, growing steadily louder with every drunken, staggered step.
Pass by, don’t come in. Pass by, don’t come in… Rimmer thought fervently, repeating it over and over, beseechingly, in his head like some sort of desperate mantra, praying to whatever god might exist out there to take pity on him for just once in his smegging life but as had been well-established by now, if there was a god they certainly didn’t have a heart.
The door to the sleeping quarters slid open with a harsh, piercing hiss and in staggered one extremely wasted David Lister, an open can of Leopard Lager in his hand and a lit cigarette in the other.
With great difficulty he co-ordinated a clumsy wave to the retreating backs of Petersen and the others before he finally turned his attention to Rimmer, who had by this point straightened up stiffly at his desk and was doing his level best to try to pretend that he wasn’t secretly weighing up the pros and cons of throwing Lister out an airlock and blaming it on his own drink-addled mind. Unfortunately he didn’t think the ship’s CCTV would be on his side there so he begrudgingly had to shelf that idea.
As Lister stumbled his way towards him and leaned in far too close over his shoulder, the stench of beery breath and tobacco met his nostrils and he grimaced. “Lister, go away,” he hissed through tightly gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tightly clenched to resist the urge to swat at him and push him back. “I’m trying to revise.”
“Smeg, Rimmer, you’re such a bore!” Lister said, entirely too loud and entirely too close to his ear, his words slurring pathetically together. “You need to live more!”
Rimmer sniffed indignantly and finally deigned to press the back of his hand to Lister’s front and push him firmly away. “I’ll have plenty of time to do that once I’m an officer,” he said matter-of-factly, ignoring how hollow he felt inside as he said it. “For now my priorities lie elsewhere.”
Lister snorted and he took a long swig of his can of lager. “Yeah, bein’ a bore,” he muttered, staggering back over toward his bunk, humming tuneless snippets of Lunar City Seven as he went.
Rimmer could throttle him, honestly, but he bit back the impulse, however inviting it may have been. Instead he remained as he was, staring bitterly, contemptuously down at the infuriating textbook in front of him, taking nothing in while he listened to the rustling and shuffling of Lister moving about behind him, hopefully getting ready for bed.
He heard the discordant squeak of the ladder as Lister clambered his way up it and the tell-tale creak of the top bunk as it took the full weight of Lister’s body on it and he heaved a premature sigh of relief at this inconvenient interruption hopefully being only a brief one.
Before long, just like he hoped, the movement behind him stilled and Lister grew silent – or as silent as he could be given his tendency to snore – and Rimmer finally allowed himself to release some of the tension he had been holding. Maybe the brief distraction might have helped in a way, might have cleared his head enough for him to return his attention back to what was actually important.
He was mindful, agonisingly so, about how very little time he had left now. Since Lister had come back that meant that time had progressed considerably while he hadn’t been paying attention to it and he surely only had a measly handful of hours left at the most to fill his head with enough knowledge to pass. He flexed his fingers nervously, hyper-aware of the sweat beading on his brow as he considered opting for the last resort. It was the only hope he had left.
Glancing shiftily at the door and warily back over his shoulder, he watched Lister’s sleeping form for a good long moment, trying to ascertain for sure whether he was absolutely asleep and unaware of his surroundings. The last thing he needed was Lister of all people waking up and potentially ratting him out. That would be a fate worse than death.
Seeing that, for now, the coast was clear, he swallowed thickly and reached slowly, shakily, into the right hand pocket of his trousers, procuring from it a small, nondescript packet of little white pellets. Learning pills were strictly not allowed on board Red Dwarf. Rimmer knew that well. He had on numerous occasions in the past reprimanded countless other crewmates who he had spotted with the offending little things, scoffing obnoxiously at their pathetic need to rely on something illegal to help them succeed, all the while holding onto them himself instead of turning them in in case of a rainy day. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
He opened the cap quietly and, with a trembling hand, tipped two pills out onto his palm before hurriedly stowing the container away again. He stared down at them apprehensively, heart hammering in his chest and stomach churning at the sickening, depressing realisation that it really had come to this. If he wanted any chance of passing they were his only hope.
With one last quick, anxious glance back at Lister, he popped them in his mouth before he could change his mind and washed them down hastily with what was left of his almost-forgotten glass of water.
He waited a few moments for the panicked surge of nerves to subside, giving the drugs some time to hit his stomach and begin to make their way into his system. He wasn’t entirely sure quite how good an idea it had been to take them on an empty stomach when he was as sleep-deprived and physically exhausted as he was but he had done it now and his fate rested with them.
Lowering his gaze down to the Astro-Navigation textbook again, he sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, trying to channel what little mental energy he was still clinging onto into focusing on the words in front of him, praying that the learning pills would aid him in retaining the information. Even if all they managed to do was hold the knowledge in his head long enough for him to regurgitate it all out during the exam and then forget all of it immediately afterwards that would be fine. He just needed it to last for a few hours.
Evidently he had left resorting to this final option a little too late. They ought to have invented pills that helped him focus as well.
Maybe it was the tiredness, maybe it was the stress, maybe it was a combination of both but it didn’t matter how hard he tried, how much he squinted and strained his eyes to try to make sense of any of the words in front of him. His mind had clearly shuttered itself off and was simply not allowing anything more in. He could stare at this page and all of the words written on it for the rest of the day and it would simply never make it through. He was doomed.
Raking his hands raggedly through his hair, Rimmer let out a low, tortured groan, dropping his head onto the table and clenching his eyes tight shut so he didn’t have to see the textbook anymore, didn’t have to look hopelessly down at the same stupid page he had spent most of the night so far stuck unable to get past. It was going to take a miracle to get anything of use to enter his brain now, even with the aid of learning pills.
He must have looked pathetic, sitting there slumped with his head on the desk and his hands in his hair. He had made an absolute mess of himself by now, his usually neat, severe side parting completely unravelling, the forcibly tamed curls freed from the submission they were usually brushed harshly into. He looked thoroughly dishevelled, as though he had been pulling his hair out all night. In many ways, that probably wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
Breathing out roughly, he let his head roll miserably to the side, sliding his eyes open to gaze dolefully, enviously, over at Lennon and McCartney, Lister’s stupid robotic goldfish that he’d brought back from his last shore leave trip. They were swimming slowly, mesmerisingly, around their bowl in repetitive, mindless little circles without a single care in the world, without a shred of responsibility or expectation or disappointment weighing down on them and as Rimmer watched them absently, dazedly, as though he were hypnotised, he felt something hollow and mournful settle unpleasantly behind his chest.
God, he wished he was a fish…
He remained like that, utterly entranced, his mind far away, for the next four hours and although he wasn’t exactly asleep, when the intercom finally sounded and Holly’s monotonous voice droned out the important morning announcements, it was as though he was dead to the world and he didn’t hear a word of it.
“Will all entrants for the Astro-Navigation exam please make their way to the teaching room. The exam will begin soon.”
On the top bunk, Lister stirred slightly, his face scrunching up as the loud chime of the intercom pierced through the deep veil of drunken sleep he had been nestled in and rudely stabbed his hung-over brain like an arrow.
Peeling a tired eye open, he squinted groggily over at the desk where Rimmer was still sat, hunched over and seemingly asleep. “Rimmer?” he called out, his throat hoarse after the night’s antics. “You awake?”
There came no response, which was an answer in and of itself. Lister groaned, rubbing his eyes vigorously before lifting his head with great difficulty up off the pillow. “Rimmer,” he said again, a little louder this time.
When Rimmer still failed to have any reaction at all, Lister rolled his eyes and with great effort, begrudgingly heaved his heavy aching body up into a sitting position, clutching his head momentarily as it swam dizzyingly from the change in posture. He didn’t want to have to be awake yet and would rather have slept off the rest of his night out until well into the afternoon but he knew that dealing with a hung-over headache from a premature wake-up call would be far more preferable to the absolute monster migraine Rimmer would give him for failing to wake him up in time for his exam.
Stumbling over towards him, Lister reached out to shake him by the shoulder and froze when he realised that Rimmer didn’t seem to be asleep after all. In any case he certainly had his eyes open though whether he was still conscious remained to be seen. For now he was staring unblinkingly over at the fish tank, his expression completely vacant like some kind of lifeless zombie. It was more than just a little bit disconcerting.
“Hey, Rimmer, man,” Lister said uncertainly, waving a hand tentatively in front of Rimmer’s face. “You okay?”
The reaction was almost instant. The moment Lister’s hands came into view, Rimmer’s expression crumpled like a tin can subjected to tremendous pressure, his eyes snapping shut as he brought a hand up to rub at his face. “Ugh,” he groaned, pulling himself stiffly back into an upright sitting position, his neck and shoulders aching.
Lister watched him warily, an eyebrow quirked with mild concern. He’d seen Rimmer work himself up into an exhausted wreck before but never quite like this. “You alright?” he asked again.
“Of course I’m alright, you gimboid!” Rimmer snapped irritably, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose tightly, wincing at the sound of his own voice in his ears. “What do you want?”
Lister’s face creased into a frown and he crossed his arms moodily over his chest. So much for a grateful morning greeting. “Just thought I’d wake you,” he said, glancing at the clock on the sink beside the bunks. “Since it’s exam o’clock now and all.”
Rimmer looked like he had just been force fed a particularly sour and putrid lemon.
“WHAT!?” he cried, horrified, leaping to his feet suddenly and nearly knocking the chair he had been sitting on over in the process. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I wasn’t awake!” Lister said, holding his hands up innocently. “I just woke up meself!”
Rimmer wasn’t paying any attention to him anymore. He was in an absolute panicked frenzy, scrambling for his comb and attempting to carve his forgotten side parting back into existence before gathering up the rest of his things.
Lister watched him, bemused, and had to stop him at one point when he spotted that Rimmer was about to squeeze foot cream onto his toothbrush. Handing him the correct tube, he fixed him with a dubious stare. “You sure you’re alright, man?” he asked. “You were starin’ at me fish all in a trance just there.”
“That was intentional, Lister!” Rimmer stated, but the projected confidence was an unconvincing façade. “I had finished revising everything and was simply taking a break to let the information settle in my brain!”
Lister wasn’t fooled in the slightest. “Uh huh,” he said flatly.
Rimmer clicked his tongue and curled his lip, fixing Lister’s reflection with a contemptuous, dark look. “You wouldn’t understand, Listy,” he sneered, straightening up his tie and giving his hair a final firm comb through. “You’ve never put the slightest bit of effort in in your entire life. As for me, the only way is up! Up, up—”
“Yeah, yeah, Rimmer,” Lister cut him off, waving a hand dismissively before transitioning it into a mocking impersonation of Rimmer’s usual elaborate salute. “Up, up the ziggurat lickety split.” He punctuated that last word with a sharp slap to his forehead. “I know.”
Rimmer shot him a look, cold and hard, and then turned back one last time to check his appearance over in the mirror. The intercom sound rang out hollow and daunting into the bunkroom again and Lister saw Rimmer’s entire body stiffen immediately.
“Last call for the Astro-Navigation exam. Will all entrants please make their way to the teaching room. The exam is about to begin.”
Rimmer swallowed thickly and flexed his fingers and for all the affected confidence and false bravado he put on, Lister could still see the petrified, haunted look behind his eyes that belied his true feelings on the matter.
“Listen, man,” he said gently, sincerely, feeling almost sympathetic towards the man all of a sudden, fighting the urge to reach out and give him an encouraging pat on the arm. “Good luck.”
Rimmer bristled and his expression creased into a forced, stretched smile. “Luck, Lister?” he echoed, rocking anxiously on the balls of his feet. “I don’t need luck. I’ve got everything I need to succeed right up” – he brought a hand up to tap a finger quickly to his temple – “here.”
“Yeah,” came Lister’s doubtful, sarcastic response. “Good luck.”
He raised his eyebrows, fixing Rimmer with a look that said “Trust me, you’re gonna need all the luck you can get.”
Rimmer seemed to pick up on it, the plastered smile on his face faltering slightly as his adam’s apple bobbed nervously in his throat. “Right,” he said stiffly, tensely, hands balled tightly into fists at his sides. “Well, then. Goodbye, Lister.”
There was a maddened look in his eyes, something wild and desperate and beseeching, as though he was almost begging Lister to do something to stop him from walking out there to his inevitable doom even if it meant he had to resort to knocking him unconscious.
He stood there awkwardly, frozen in fear for another uncomfortably long number of seconds, rocking back and forth on his feet before he finally accepted that no miraculous divine intervention was coming and he was going to have to just go for it.
Picking up his pens and popping them neatly in his pocket, he gave Lister one final, incredibly rigid nod of acknowledgement and strode swiftly, almost robotically out of the room with such a grave look of dread on his face he might as well have been on death row.
Lister watched him go with an almost pitying look of gentle compassion pulling on his face. He didn’t like Rimmer – no-one did – but he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit bad for the guy. He had been putting himself through these exams since long before Lister had ever even met him, driven by something he couldn’t relate to, a burning urge to make something of himself no matter how long it took even when it was probably pointless.
Maybe he didn’t deserve the power that advancement up the career ladder would give him, maybe it would turn him into even more of an insufferably unbearable smeghead, but if just so that Lister wouldn’t have to endure another night of Rimmer drowning his sorrows and cursing the universe for being out to get him, he hoped this time that something would go different.
Whatever he had been hoping, whatever he had been expecting, an exam paper scrawled with nothing but ‘I am a fish’ had absolutely not been it.
Oh well. There was always next time.
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