#idk how to get over this shit man. how do i explain to my coworkers that waking people up for vitals is difficult for me bc

[dhampir-dyke]

.

[eclipsewxtch]

HIII it's me the person who asked about Griffin last time... so your answer made me read the chapters again, to see if I can connect the points for griffins past (I'm very curious) this is parts of the chapters which I think it's important or tell something about Griffy:

WARNING IT'S GOING TO BE LONG, AND I MAY BE GOING DELUSIONAL OR SLIGHTLY UNSTABLE!!

And Griff— you’re,” Finney holds in a laugh but fails miserably, “Dylan Knox.”“Dylan Knox?” Griffin groans, “That ship was salt in the wound.” Okay, Donna definitely had too much fun with the names if she put it outright for Griffin like this. Dylan Knox? That’s fucking hilarious.

I'm going to tell the truth and say that I didn't understand the joke (embarrassing ik). So I'm taking as some form of inside joke between they that we as the readers don't know of. In my delusions it's a movie reference to the character Eric Knox who !SPOILER! sleeps with Dylan and later is revealed to be the villain. Maybe something happened like this in the past? That's why the joke. Or because he rants (simps cough cough) to much about Paperboy?

Griffin always seemed to take a morbid sort of interest in watching Finney impale himself with a slim needle, if only to avoid doing whatever he needed to do at that present moment. He doesn’t know exactly what Griffin is fascinated by, considering Griffin is scared to death of being injected with literally anything, not necessarily needles but of the unknown substances, which is funny considering Griffin got a degree in sticking unknown substances in corpses.

“I had a bad acid trip once when I was, like, seventeen.” Griffin admits, “Shit was horrible. So, no. No hard drugs. Weed is for me, y’know? Relaxing

Maybe this is some clues to his past and how he acted when he was younger. Like using hard drugs at 17 is a poor life choice, and assuming were talking about heroine or shit, the experience must have been WIDE to make Griff fears needles and say no more to drugs.

“I don’t like pompous assholes.” Griffin corrects, “I don’t like being treated like a servant, because I’m not servant. But, I get paid, so I work and I live with it.”

(about this one I just think it's worth mentioning because this is the 3th/2th time that Griffin notes not liking rich people more about this later)

“Do you like him?” “Why, jealous?” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Paperboy scoffs, “What would I be jealous about?” “Well don’t. He supposedly likes me.” Griffin rolls his eyes, “I don’t think he really does. I think he likes that I’m pretty. I think he likes that I don’t fall over him like our coworkers. I think he likes the chase.” “You think you aren’t worth the chase?” “I think he’ll get tired when it’s over and done with. I think he’ll see the reward and wonder what the point was.” Griffin tells Paperboy, feeling a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders as he can confide in this man without fear, “That’s what I think.” “I think he may surprise you. You’re extraordinary, Dylan Knox.” Griffin doesn’t believe that.

I also think it's interesting because Griffin's always questioning Billy's intentions to whether he truly likes him, and I think PB makes a good question "Why do you think you aren't worth the chase?" Idk how to explain, but I feel like someone who is supose to be as confident as Griffin shouldn't really care about Billy's snark and comments. He also sometimes sounds kinda insecure or bothered by things that shouldn't really matter. I also think is kinda asshol'ish of Griff to just discard automatically Billy's feelings as unserious or some form of puppy love.

He also says 2 different time things like "you can't" to Billy when he tells him his feelings or-

Griffin has the strangest urge to just— And he won’t. He won’t do it. He can’t do it, it’s already weird enough he’s letting it go this far and he’s just… He can’t do it.

to himself. I'm not saying that he's like insecure or faking, I'm just saying that he just isn't as secure as he thinks he is. And I'm sensing some trust issues and (to a lesser extend) maybe abandonment issues.

Griffin can hold his liquor well but hates drinking in public spaces, where it’s not safe and too open, on the off-chance he gets too inebriated to protect himself or anyone he loves. But he doesn’t get drunk easily, so it’s best when he does this kind of thing, especially in a bar-like setting.

Maybe in the past he lost someone he loved or got through some form of traumatic experience where he felt uncapable, trapped or vulnerable.

According to the voices in my head, Charlie's Angel's movie and the quotes that I showed you...

Griffin probably grew up poor or in a bad environment, maybe just like Dylan he lost his mother when he was young and had to take care of himself alone, never meting his father. Maybe he joined a gang or got involved with bad people who made influenced him to taking drugs. And that's when Charlie enters the picture rescuing him from the bad environment because be saw some potential on him, and that's why they're close and Griffin is so loyal to him, because he saved him, took care of him and trained him when no one else did.

OR which for me makes things more interesting his dad was a drug dealer, or someone involved in the other side. And that's how he first got introduced to drugs, his repetitive "a good dealer never samples his own product" makes me believe that maybe his dad did, and that's the story behind his bad acid trip. Anyways, his dad eventually goes to prison and that's how he met Charlie (?), who takes him under his wing. (Or this could be just like how Dylan meet Charlie in the movie)

That part of the dad drug dealer made me think of Griffin as Little Misfortune (the game) lol

Maybe his mom still died early, maybe she was killed in front of him (cruel and very traumatizing I know) when he was drunk or high and that's why he's warrior of drinking in public spaces. I don't know. Maybe he and possibly his family was betrayed by someone they trusted and that's why the trust issues. Idk or maybe he's just naturally suspicious of people, which I would believe, Griffin is like a cat.

The movie and the wiki of Charlie's Angel was important to make this theory and I could say more and elaborate more. But anyways, maybe there's other motive other than personality-wise to why Griffin was chosen as Dylan. Let's wait and see. It's to early for me to be making bold assumptions but here am I.

Sorry for taking your time, you can tell me if I missed completely what you are going for, this is more of a draft theory. I'm okay with spoilers or hints, and if you want I can maybe send another ask talking about my theories regarding Evan and Griffin's relationship. Love you.

ah i love asks! firstly, don’t apologize for sending this, i love reading theories and i’m open to u sending more if u want!

secondly, ur so close! griffin did grow up poor, and his mom did die while he was young. everything else was close but not quite there, but i’m so happy u picked up on like majority of the hints!! it always makes me happy when people pick up what i’m putting down n analyze stuff <33 so thank you!!

[windupaidoneus]

tell me more abt the roleswap au i LOVE those sorts of things and want to know what you're cooking

Oh Lird.

so...... azem hades & emet-selch lachesis eh.... giggles a little. kicks a rock. falls to my knees. there's so much evil shit going on there. there's going to be post edw spoilers SORRY not my fault.

in that au hades is a lot more. well. azem-like. not quite like how venat or canon azem would be but he does go around helping people, though he reiterates he's "simply doing his job" everytime people thank him. lachesis on the other hand is uhhhh a lot more Visibly Stressed because of Bureaucracy (he was not meant for this desk job life someone save him). they still work pretty well off of each other due to balancing each other out in Different ways there, but lachesis frequently jokes about how they probably should swap jobs, though he's quick to add that it Is just jokes bc he feels hades would get far too invested as emet-selch to a possibly unhealthy degree. (staring directly into the camera as i say this)

they had a very similar start friendship wise, not much point in changing it, it's just that through a twist of fate (funny cuz lachesis. one of the fates. Anyway) they ended up swapping seats. & in fact hades got his first, & vouched for lachesis hard as fuck! lachesis does not have hades' soul sight but #hesanempath so its ok (im joking but also. idk it makes sense To Me)

in this au the plan to summon zodiark is still something lachesis disagrees with, however by that point he's too overwhelmed by what's happening to express his opinion & when hades opposes himself to it he's genuinely baffled (not in a bad way. in a gay way.). when he does try to speak his mind after zodiark's summoning (he waited a bit bc of. seeing the azem seat struck) it feels like something is actively preventing him (that would be zodiark's tempering), & losing the agency to express himself really got to him like. quick. rapidly felt like he was losing his mind, Which He Was LOL!, & try as he might to resist zodiark's influence i think he fell to it relatively quickly. especially after the sundering. his coworkers were, i reiterate, ELIDIBUS & LAHABREA. man i would let zodiark do whatever the fuck he wants too

more seriously though they do have some kind of divorce as well but uhhhh different... hades definitely expressed hurt at lachesis choosing THAT time to keep his mouth shut. disappointment that he'd be so unwilling to risk his seat. & lachesis tried to explain but the moment he got accused of essentially being a coward he lost all explanations he could muster up & kinda fell over himself emotionally. he'd wished to try & change the convocation's minds individually after the decision was made but. that was before they erased the azem seat. it happened relatively swiftly & by that point it felt like he was stuck there. he would've had more hope he could do something about it if elidibus hadn't been chosen to be the heart of zodiark probably... i don't think they're As close in this au as they are in the og timeline (in which lachesis absolutely tried dissuading him even after his seat was struck) so he wouldn't feel like he can try to argue with him specifically. he's familiar with lahabrea but the man is wayyy more duty-bound than himself. he might have a chance with loghrif but loghrif & he wouldn't sway the entire convocation. he felt incredibly powerless, & he hadn't even been able to defend hades. that & hythlodaeus being sacrificed to summon zodiark were two of his biggest regrets that zodiark's tempering would latch onto & worsen so so much over time, & his main motivation to bring about the rejoinings is to be able to see them again, & apologise to them. & probably die after ensuring they can live happy lives honestly

igeyorhm fucking over the thirteenth made lachesis MAD AS FUCK. also deeply upset & increasingly stressed. he is acutely aware the rest of the rejoinings wouldnt be enough to bring back the old world & having this one reflection become impossible to rejoin is going to torment him for a long long time. i think he'd spend a lot of his free time trying to work out how to reverse it, but elidibus would always be tasking him with some new shit, interrupting his work & whatnot. in fact, if it didnt fuck up the flow of the story, i'd even imagine he is more likely to align himself with the wol (in this case hades shard) in post edw than in shb since what post edw is about is like. finding ways to reverse the uh, voidening of the thirteenth. it would perfectly align with his goals is the problem. butttt that is not how the story goes. playing his part in shb is sort of elidibus' design but a lot of it is him still, he's not Happy about it bc he'd reallyratherbeworkingonthevoidoverthere but UGH the warrior of light is causing problems FIIINE he'll do it. & well. what surprise! here he is. hades' shard. wielding 'black magic' as he always would yet aided by the blessing of light. how ironic! he himself is far more proficient in wielding 'white magic' but now works alongside zodiark. (a reminder of how much he despises doing what he's doing. he'd forgotten. makes him feel even more powerless. whoa! so cool. he WILL die with a smile on his face)

i need to name the hades shard. i know i do. it will happen. once i've decided if i want him to be a viera or a miqo'te 😂!!!

until then though ☝️ relatively similar to, well, hades in personality, though a lot less reluctant to express affection or approval. kind of assumes he's having really fucking weird daydreams even when everyone's telling him hydaelyn is speaking to him & ooo it's the blessing of light, why are there two ladybugs in my room??, kinda washes over him really. he keeps reiterating he's doing what he's doing not because he's anybody's champion (regardless of whether he is or not) but because he wants to & people better not attribute his deeds to some otherworldly power who could not make him do ANYTHING he does not want to do. HE did it, of his own volition, & if he'd wanted to let the world burn he very well could've. he does have a burning desire to do the right thing & save the world no matter what happens to him though. sad! hydaelyn's perfect chosen whether he likes it or not :/ needless to say he fucking loathes zenos & does not ever come close to forgiving gaius for what he's done. gets along with alisaie horribly well. alphinaud too but he unconditionally enables alisaie (& krile too) when they torment him. It's Fun For Him. good friends with y'shtola as well, gets on pretty well with urianger but like... starting in post shb. before that he's like Really Fucking Sick of the secrecy shit & urianger never saying what he Means. beefs with thancred entirely too much. would've legitimately killed ser grinnaux over the tataru & alphinaud trial & is very very VERY happy he gets to actually do it later.

& his canon jobs are blm, smn/sch, whm & drk!!!!! whm because well. he does feel a strange pull toward white magic. surely this means nothing (his lover in a past life looming ominously over him)

the way these two work in shb is. ughhhh. buh. lachesis is far freakier than hades as emet but he also poses himself as a lot more likable. overall a deeply unsettling character, but he's so certain things can work out with the power of friendship!! 💖 yeah, fuck zodiark anyway! 🎉 (he is fully planning on backstabbing the scions with the sole purpose of getting himself killed)

hades shard does recognise lachesis' soul colour (he has that. yeah.) but can't place it. all he knows is that this isnt Right, this lachesis isnt Right & whatever he is now is hardly more than a shadow of who he once was, this he believes. this makes him relatively closed off from the get go while lachesis is a lot more inviting & friendly, but as time goes on lachesis withdraws more & more, prompting hades shard to fill in the space he left by reaching out himself. lachesis is sort of tricking him into it to make the betrayal sting more, & push him to pull no punches once the final confrontation arises. hades shard is determined to put an end to this not just because of all the suffering lachesis has caused others & himself but also for lachesis' sake. ending this madness. this eternity of misery he's clearly trapped himself into. lachesis is a lot... crabbier & gloomier during the final confrontation, but again he dies with a smile on his face, with thanks & an apology to hades shard. & of course post shb hits hades shard like a brick. & then edw hits him like another brick. because it's lachesis in elpis instead of hades. yep

wait i just realised i could name hades shard after the minion. aidoneus.!!? since it's also the name i have him publicly take after he comes back & changes his face & everything to avoid unwanted attention... omg... aidoneus roquefort real? & lachesis can take on the name hildegarde if he brings himself back? (which tbh hes more likely to do than hades was so. ? happy ending for all. idc)

elpis facking sucks for him obviously... to be seeing the man whose life he ended out of pity & compassion back when he was happier? when he was with who himself used to be, back when the world was Better for them? it sucks! it sucks. telling the story of his present is something he does very much reluctantly but he does not mince his words, & lachesis immediately like. accepts it as truth. he fully believes he would do all this & he's mortified. rather than pass judgement of any kind on it though he quickly excuses himself to "collect his thoughts". probably has a meltdown to hyth one on one about it & is like We Have To Tell Azem This Is Really Bad We Can't Let This Happen but they cant tell azem so they dont. & he's definitely not as relaxed as hades is when kairos erases their memories! more like. "(nervous chuckle) well shucks. sorry for everything in advance. go get 'em for us, yeah?" &. ouhhh. lies down face first. AIDONEUS IS UPSET!!! but also more determined than ever to set things Right & put a stop to the world ending shit. the weight of the world IS on his shoulders but he's been lifting since day one in preparation for this so he can do it.

idk. i'm not exactly running out of things to say but idk how much i shoudl say. yippee. have at thee

[fuck-customers]

A customer came in today to find out if he had insurance on his phone, which he did. So I did my usual routine on explaining how to make the claim and go about fixing the phone or replacing it. He tried to do it in the store, which normally isn’t a problem as long as he’s not holding up the line or anything and then he started smashing his fingers on the screen because it was too cracked to register what he pressed.

He asked me if there was any other way to make the claim and I told him the only way was online because the insurance was a third party company. He started making excuses on why he couldn’t like “i dont have a computer or anything else” or “my phone isnt working look” and then continued to forcefully press on the screen. So he asked to use one of our computers, which I politely said no and explained “We aren’t allowed to let customers use our computers, for security reasons.”

He got pissed and starting calling it bullshit and said “any other manager would let me use a tablet to do it, youre just lazy” and I repeated myself and even said that if someone were to do that then theyd be breaking company policy because thats literally a breach of security since all our tablets and computers are programmed with the system we use to access all customer accounts.

I’m really a “fuck corporate” kind of person and ill break a rule here and there but this guy was being a dick and we have cameras all over the store so I stood my ground and kept denying him.

He got so mad that he asked to speak to the manager and my manager wasnt in so then he asked for his phone number and I told him Im also not allowed to give out personal information like that. Then he asked for my name and since I didn’t do anything wrong I refused and he got pissed and spout all this bullshit about how Im legally obligated to give him my name because hes a paying a customer. Like for one, he didnt buy anything, hes not a paying customer at the store. And two, im definitely not legally obligated to give out my personal information to angry customers because they didnt get what they wanted.

Anyways, he started yelling at me about how im lazy, unprofessional and useless. At this point I was getting irritated so I responded with “Im sorry thats your opinion” I guess that was kinda sassy but i mean?? He was being a piece of shit. Its literally also not in my job description or title to make insurance claims, repair phones, set up phones, or apply screen protectors. So i definitely wasnt refusing him service. I did what he asked, which was to access his account and see if he had insurance on his phone.

He yelled all the way to the door and before fully walking out he turned around and said “and you’re ugly too” I dont care about a random dudes opinion about my looks but I was literally wearing a mask, theres literally no way he could know what i looked like?? I saw his ID too so I KNOW hes got no right talking shit like that.

After clocking out, my coworker called me to say that the customer called the store to tell him that he placed a complaint with corporate and that theyd set a meeting to go more into depth about the incident, which isnt really an incident because the only thing that happened was he threw a tantrum. Whats funny is i dont work for the corporate that he called. I work for a third party company that The Phone Company hired to open Authorized Retail stores. So theres really nothing TT&A can do

I don’t know what exactly corporate needs to write me up or fire me but im 100% sure what he told them was a lie because I acted completely professional and calm. I dont even know if theyd have my back, can I sue them for wrongful termination if they do end up firing me over this guys lies?

Its such bullshit to me that he went as far as to try to get me fired, literally in a pandemic all because of an insurance claim.

Which also!! If his phone worked well enough to call and complain, couldnt he have just, idk, made the fucking claim?!?!

I swear some people have nothing better to do than to yell at 20 something year old min. wage workers.

Get a life, man

[theflyingkipper]

had thoughts about maximilien and maybe ill read this tomorrow and think I was an idiot but HERE WE ARE (I am channeling my inner jobey)

Maximilien is the husk of an old Achilles Class (not entirely sure which one yet , it just needs to be a notable member otherwise it makes no sense that it survived being turned into razor blades) that was turned into a static display in a railway museum -maybe even in the same spot The Queen static engine is. The engine is turned static in the 30s(? maybe? I need to do more research here) having had its working life extended past its siblings who all met their fate in the 1910s .

unfortunately he wound up in bad shape as a static display (the original consciousness in the engine died , but long before it became a display . I think every one of its siblings dying and spending decades changing hands and avoiding scrap would be enough to make it retreat far enough to disappear )

An initiative was taken to restore the husk. (probably by sudrians. because BR would have chucked him) He was rolled out of whatever display he was in and taken to the island.

The plan was to only cosmetically restore the old engine. (orders of the railway museum) but there was a small problem.

It came back to life during the process.

the love and care of the restoration team + a boiler replacement and test led to a new consciousness being born . oops

everyone involved PANICS because this wasn’t supposed to happen, and its not exactly ethical to confine the engine equivalent of a newborn to being a museum display . they decide to keep on the down low about this because if their manager finds out the new engine is alive, he will flip his SHIT

of course, they end up becoming emotionally attached to the new engine because hes just a baby …who came to life in front of 30 dumbfounded people panicking and swearing

Among the people restoring the engine is a man named Montgomery, who I dont have a full backstory for other than hes a seasoned railwayman + is engaged to a French woman overseas (idk man they have difficulties about getting married) he was alive while steam engines were still being built , he had a hand in constructing a few during the 40s when he was a young whippersnapper. hes seen quite a few come to life in the workshops, but at this point its been over 20 something years since then and seeing it happen again is (for lack of a better word) magical .Montgomery grows attached to the new engine . Although similar sentiments are shared by the rest of the team , Max latches onto Montgomery more than the others. Montgomery takes to reading the engine stories (yes , that means the The Railway Series) and talking to him about the things going on with his restoration . The engine, being a baby, doesnt understand what words like “cosmetic” and “finicky” mean , but he eats up the words and places them in his jumbled vocabulary

Montgomery learns that his fiancée is pregnant , and the engine catches word of it through Montgomery’s coworkers. (“mr montgomery where do babies come from”) and theres a whole fiasco about whether or not that should explain how human procreation works to a steam engine

fiasco aside, Montgomery’s fiancée says she’ll name the baby Roxane if it’s a girl, and Maximilien if its a boy . Montgomery is hoping for a son ,but Roxane is born later that year. One of his coworkers suggests naming the engine Maximilien, which he is initially opposed to. the restoration team is already in trouble since the engine’s conscious and everyones attached to it, neither of which were supposed to happen. Montgomery goes “fuck it, were in deep shit anyway” after some hard thought and the engine is christened Maximilien. Its not his official name, but he takes to the name too well.

Eventually the manager of the project finds out the engine is ALIVE , and worse yet, its an entirely new being. Of course he absolutely loses it and is quick to point fingers at people for becoming attached. He and Montgomery have a screaming match. It gets so out of control that Sir Topham Hatt is called in, who was surprisingly uninvolved with the project. (He might have paid for the restoration teams’ materials but he never oversaw Maximilien’s build, he was busy with other shit lol its the 60s)

In the end, after several heated phone calls to and from the railway museum, BR, and the Fat Controller, Maximilien is restored to full working order. A different building project is taken up using measurements from Maximilien’s build to replace his static display with a replica (This is of course The Queen, miss locomotive uncanny valley). Maximilien is ecstatic when he finally moves under his own power, rolling out of the workshop in photographic grey livery- an homage to his predecessors.

Unfortunately this turns sour, because hes been released in the middle of dieselization, and there isnt much work available for a newly restored Victorian engine. Max ends up sitting in shops and being moved again and again, leaving him bored and frustrated. He’s regarded as a stupid financial mistake, as well, which makes him especially pissed (its the truth but you cant blame him) . Eventually (this could be decades later, maybe during privatization of the NWR), hes given some modifications to clear him for proper work: including a more powerful boiler and valve gear. He’s finally put in service, and I dont know what jobs he’d have yet but his first years on Sodor are a hilarious roller coaster and a different post because I am so tired

I hope you enjoy this rambly infodump XD maximilien is such a pain in the ass to make logical but that part itself is fun when you throw sudrians in the mix

[harryspet]

wrapped in red | p.parker & b.barnes

[Warnings] dark? peter parker x reader, dark bucky barnes x reader, peter is still pretty sweet and bucky is evil, aged up peter, mafia/gang au, gang boss!bucky, waitress!reader, noncon/dubcon sex, light bondage, kidnapping, bucky likes to watch 

A/N: idk its 7 am and I still haven’t slept and now I’m posting this. THIS IS ADULT & TRIGGERING CONTENT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which Peter likes you and Bucky makes you both regret that. 

main masterlist

word count: 2.9k

“Can I get you anything else, sir?” You asked the blue-eyed man sitting at table eighteen. Your coworker had an emergency call so you found yourself tasked with tending to the table of two men. You didn’t recognize the man at first but as your eyes connected with his left arm … your breathing hitched in your throat. You smiled through your worry though, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that you knew exactly who he was. 

Bucky Barnes ran this neighborhood, but since you had never run into him, it was easy to believe he was just a myth. 

“No, doll. Just the check please,” He spoke simply and you might not have been intimidated if you hadn’t noted the many expensive rings on his right hand. The man sitting across from him was younger, his eyes were nervous too as he looked you over. His face was familiar and you thought you might have seen him in one of your classes. 

There were several empty beers on the table as well 

You nodded your head before turning away, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter’s eyes lingered on you as you walked away from the table. For a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be counting. His pen roamed over the sheet and over all the numbers. 

“See, you’re only making a hundred grand from this guy's shipments. He’s using all your resources to make sure the product is clean but you could easily just do that for yourself. You cut out in the middle man and I think you could triple your profit,” Peter turned the paper so Bucky could look over all the numbers he was running. Peter folded his hands, trying to read the man’s expressions. 

As you returned to the table with the check, Peter was once again caught in the trance you put in. He recognized you from his anatomy class. He arrived at class five minutes early every day just to make sure that he could watch you come in. Part of him was unsure of what you’d think of him now, knowing who he was sitting with. 

Money didn’t grow on trees and Peter was the man of the house. College was expensive and the rent was even more expensive so he had to do what he could to get by. You were working minimum wage at a rundown restaurant, Peter didn’t doubt that you could understand that. Still, what you did was honest work and Peter couldn’t say the same for himself. 

“Thank you, doll,” Bucky thanked you, resting his arms against the table as he smirked up at you, “You doing something tonight? What time do you get off?”

Your lips parted as you stared in shock. Could you just answer a simple no? “I actually have to close up today … so I … uhm-”

“I-It’s okay,” Peter rushed out nervously, seeing the way that Bucky was eyeing you, “That’s it, thank you.”

Your smile was thin and awkward before you walked away. 

Peter’s eyes widened with frustration as he stared across the table at the older man, “What are you doing?” Bucky chuckled as he grabbed the check, clicking his pin in order to sign it. Peter didn’t know it but the man was leaving you a hefty tip, “Were you trying to scare her?”

“I was trying to get you a date!” Bucky retorted, “Your good with numbers, kid, and I appreciate you helping me out. I really do but your game with women is a little laughable.”

Peter shook his head in disbelief, “Why does it matter?” Peter lowered his voice as the realization set in that Bucky was right, “Why does it matter what kind of game I have? I’m just here to count your money, right?”

The look in Bucky’s eyes was almost sympathetic, “You count money for now but you’re strong, I can tell. You could become a very valuable person to me if you work at it. And part of being in my little family is having some fucking confidence. You were drooling over that girl instead of manning up and asking her out.”

Peter crossed his arms, “What if she said no?”

Bucky smirked at the younger boy, “She wouldn’t if you had some fucking balls,” Peter rolled his eyes, “But if she did said no … then you chase her. That’s the best part.”

There was something evil in the man's glare but Peter brushed it out. The man was a professional, drug dealing murderer. “You want to ask her to prom or something?”

Peter shook his head, annoyed, “I’m not in high school, Mr. Barnes. I just like her, okay? And it doesn’t matter that I like her because it’s not like we can date. I’m sure we both have bigger things to focus on. Now ... can we go back to talking about the deal that’s going on tomorrow?”

Bucky seemed amused by the kid’s awkwardness, “I like your idea. I hate that Brock guy anyways. He’s overcharging me because I used to mess with his sister. You know … maybe if he’s out of the picture then his sister is free territory.”

“Out of the picture how?” Bucky sensed Peter’s worry and grinned. 

“That’s right, you’ve never been on one of my infamous boat rides. You should come,” Peter knew exactly what he meant. If Bucky didn’t like you, you did not want to go on a “boat ride” with him. That was a quick and easy way for your body to end up chained to a brick at the bottom of the Hudson. 

“I have a biology project to work on,” Peter said.

“It wasn’t a question, Queens.”

+

Your heart skipped a beat as a black Escalade pulled up beside you while you were walking home. You didn’t look over as you heard the window roll down. You winced as you continued to walk. You only turned to look as you heard a whistle. 

You thought he’d give up after the weird encounter at the restaurant but here he was in all his handsome and dangerous glory, “You need a ride, doll?”

“Uhm, no. But thank you!”

What was it with kids your age? Perhaps Bucky was losing some of his edginess with the younger crowd, “Get in,” Bucky said, much more forward this time, “I just want to talk.”

You took a deep breath as you clutched your purse tightly. You found your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Your body thought you’d be safer going with him rather than arguing with the famous criminal. You heard the rumors about people that went missing because they pissed him off. Every time they seemed to arrest him, he was back on the streets weeks later. The cops, ones who he didn’t pay off, could never pin him to any of the murders. 

If you went missing because of Bucky Barnes, you and your legacy were effectively wiped away. 

He opened the back door for you and you climbed into the leather seat as he slid over. Shaking, you grabbed your seat belt and buckled yourself in. Bucky was used to the lack of eye contact and shaky fingers. It usually annoyed him but, for you, he found it endearing. 

As the door closed, the man in the front seat drove off, “What exactly do you want to talk to me about?” You asked, still confused about the entire situation. 

“My friend that sat at the table with me. Peter Parker,” Bucky spoke vaguely. 

“We don’t really know each other,” You explained, hoping that guy wasn’t somehow in trouble with Bucky, “We just go to the same college.”

“No, I know,” Bucky continued, “I just know that he’s interested in getting to know you better. And Peter’s a good friend of mine, you know?”

You nodded slowly. That meant Peter was dangerous, “Right. He’s … he’s never talked to me.”

Bucky chuckled, “He’s the shy type. You’re a pretty girl, he probably doesn’t think he’s good enough. That’s why I’m here talking to you.”

“What do you want me to do?” You asked hesitantly.

“That’s a good response,” Bucky gave you a smug look, “You’ll find out soon, doll. Sit tight.”

Your eyes widened as you looked out the tinted window, watching your apartment building pass by. Bucky’s driver gazed at you through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road. 

+

Peter thought he wouldn’t be able to stomach. Watching a grown man cry and beg for his life before being tossed over the edge. You watched him sink and the bubbles slowly start to disappear as he went deeper, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bucky had said to him.

Peter hated to say that it wasn’t as bad as he believed it would be. Perhaps the years of struggling had blackened his heart. After the murder, Bucky proceeded to drag you back to his million-dollar apartment, wanting to share a drink or to. 

Peter almost opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t twenty-one yet but knew the exact reaction he would get from Bucky. Bucky had his arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulder as he showed him to the kitchen, “One day, you’re going to have a place just like this,” He said, hinting at your luxurious surroundings, “You stick with me and you won’t need that piece of shit degree.”

Peter only nodded, accepting a beer from the man. Bucky watched as the boy chugged the content of his glass. Peter hoped it would get him through the rest of the night and help give him some liquid courage, “You’re a weird kid, Queens,” Bucky laughed, “I like it. C’mere, I want to show you something.”

You followed Bucky down the hallway, hoping it wasn’t another disturbing thing that the man found amusing, “What is it?”

“A present,” Bucky grinned, guiding Peter to the door at the end of the hallway. Peter would’ve preferred to be wowed by a million other things. Instead, his mouth was agape because he saw you. 

Whatever drugs he had given you to keep you relaxed had completely worn off. It kept you from fighting them when your clothes were cut off from your body. Your vision was blurry and your muscles were weak as they restrained your body. Now, clear as day you could see your captor … and his friend Peter. 

You were laid out on the bed, your hands handcuffed behind your back and your ankles tied together by a red ribbon. A red thong barely covered your lower region and a red ribbon wrapped around your front barely covered your nipples. Right in the middle of your chest was a red bow to compliment the red ball gag in your mouth. 

Peter flashed Bucky a mortified look. Bucky only sipped at his glass of beer, “Happy fucking birthday, kid,” Bucky beamed, “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

It wasn’t Peter’s birthday and he was definitely not feeling thankful. Peter watched as you struggled in your bondage, frightened tears staining your cheeks. “What the hell are you doing?” Peter asked, his teeth gritted in anger, “I-I didn’t ask you to do this.”

“What?” Bucky sounded offended, “It’s creative! Think of it as a welcoming gift. I know you want to fuck her so here’s your chance. Fuck her and get rid of her-”

Get rid of you?

Bucky was interrupted by a muffled scream which only caused him to roll his eyes, “Or fuck her and keep her, I don’t care.”

“No, no, I’m letting her go-” Before Peter could take a step forward, Bucky’s metal arm gripped his shoulder. 

You felt relieved only for a moment.  Bucky stepped in front of him, “I’ll fuck her then, no point in letting the opportunity go to waste.”

Peter’s heart stopped, “Mr. Barnes, please.”

“You do it or I will,” Bucky said firmly, “You’re smart and I want to keep you around but if you can’t … take a few fun risks then maybe you’re not the type of person that should work for me.” Bucky’s words settled over him. Peter thought about losing this opportunity and all the money that would come along with it. Looking into your teary eyes, Peter thought about how rough Bucky would be with you. Maybe he could explain that … Peter mentally cursed. 

Peter didn’t answer verbally, only pushed past Bucky, walking towards the bed. Peter felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as he stalked towards the bed, “That’s my boy,” Bucky spoke excitedly. He moved towards a lounge chair in the corner of the room, still taking swigs of his drink, “There’s no point in asking. If you want it, take it. Now put on a good show for your dear boss.”

Peter knew there was no going back now. He reached out to touch your arm, only to have you flinch away from his touch. Peter had imagined touching you for the first time and it was nothing like this. Peter turned that sadness to anger in order to fuel his adrenaline. 

Peter undid the ribbon around your ankles first. As soon as they were free, you were struggling against him. Peter was much stronger than you assumed and held you in place easily. Next, he moved to your gag, “Pl-Please don’t hurt me,” You begged, your voice hoarse. 

You saw something in his eyes similar to regret. Regret for the inevitable. As you shook your head, he said, “I won’t. Just … just don’t struggle,” He tried to assure you but as he moved your body over the edge of the bed, parting your legs and settling between them, you panicked again.

“Peter, please don’t.” He perked up at the sound of his name on your lips and you thought for a moment that you had gotten to him. He paused for a moment, only for a moment, before lifting his shirt above his head. He leaned his body over yours, his mouth brushing over your ear.

“Trust me, you don’t want him touching you. Just relax,” A shiver ran down your spine and you turned your head. Your scared eyes connected with Bucky’s and he smirked. It seemed the two of you were his sick entertainment for tonight. Your breathing was heavy but you tried to keep your muscles calm. 

You tried to convince yourself that Peter was the better option. He was your age and he didn’t have that evil look in his eyes. You hated that you preferred him. You hated that you were preferring this. 

Peter placed soft kisses along your collarbone and up the side of your neck. It baffled you that you got the feeling that he wanted to be gentle with you. You were ready to jump out of your skin when you felt your panties being moved to the side but you were interrupted by Peter’s lips crashing onto yours. 

Soon, you felt him at your entrance, teasing your opening. You gasped against his lips as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you. You wanted him away but you still found that your legs wrapped around him for support. 

Peter moved his lips against yours and you felt his own body shudder as your warmness wrapped around his length. He started to move in and out of you and it took you time to get used to the invading feeling. As Peter kissed your tear-stained cheeks, you bit down on your bottom lip. His pace quickened and wished desperately that your hands weren’t handcuffed behind you. 

“Y/N,” He grunted into your ear as he made long, deep strokes inside of you, “Fuck, I’m sorry… y-you feel so good.”

As he pushed deep inside of you, your head tilted back and a frustrated moan escaped from your throat. You hated that he was making you feel good too. You felt his hand running up your thigh  and then it was between your leg, slowly rubbing that sensitive bulb between your legs. That was enough to have you moving your hips against him. 

Bucky watched intently, the blood rushing to that area between his legs. He’d keep you in mind when he was deep inside Brock’s sister. 

“Ah, ah,” Peter kissed you, swallowing your moans as you both climaxed together. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Peter was supposed to finally gather the courage to ask for your number towards the end of the semester. You were supposed to text back and forth for a few weeks and then go on a few dates. You were supposed to fall for each other the natural way. 

Bucky had stolen all that. 

As Peter pulled up his pants, zipping them up, Bucky stood from his chair, “That was moving. Very romantic,” By his tone, Peter could tell the man was hoping for something for brutal. Peter scowled at his boss, “I knew deep down you were a ladies man-”

Peter interrupted, venom in his tone, “What do you want me to do now?”

Bucky only chuckled, “Nothing like some emotional trauma to toughen someone up,” He patted Peter’s shoulder as he made his way to the door, “Why don’t you buy her dinner and then take her home? You can take my car.”

“That’s fucking it? After all that?”

Bucky turned his head as his hand grabbed a hold of the doorknob, “She knows what’ll happen if she runs to the cops. Welcome to the team, Parker.”

+

hope you enjoyed!!

[kaibaswifey-old]

Kinda bummed that i work afternoon-night shifts bc that means I can't do shit after work. And i end up sleeping till work or i get up and I don't feel like i can do anything b4 work. So basically i cant do anything till my days off but then i just want to sleep/relax. So work becomes my entire life and im like... is this it? Is this all there is for me? At least work is a five minute walk from home. If i had to do this and commute for more than 10 minutes i would actually fucking kms.

I told my boss that my partner is nonbinary and he ended up telling me he's "old school" and doesn't get that kind of stuff, but believes in being nice to ppl. And told me this story about a transman who got defensive when asked about his pronouns pin. But my boss kept referring to him as "she" even tho he told him he's a man?? I'm mad at myself for just rolling with it and not explaining why someone like that might be defensive. At least he's not an outright raging transphobe i guess?? And my other coworkers generally seem nice. The food is good.

But god i just hate working, it's too much. No matter how many good little things i can point out, they're just not enough. Idk why some ppl are so quick to defend the 8 hour work day like i was not built for this. Maybe u get off on torturing yourself, but not me, buddy!

My partner is trying rly hard to make things easy for me when i come home tho. Doing all the housework and popping my back and chilling w me over a movie.

Anyway this post is so random idk the point but whatever

[deniigi]

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

--

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

 MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

 How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

--

 @blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

--

 It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

--

 People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

--

 It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

--

 GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

 Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

 MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

 Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

--

 It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

 MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

 HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

--

 It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

 GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

 Silence.

 MM: oh no

 Yeah. Fuck.

 MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

 Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

 MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

 There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

 GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

--

 It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

 GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

--

 DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

 MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

 Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

 MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

 That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

 MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

 Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

--

 Two hours. One text.

 MM: >:/

 Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

 GL: good news?

MM: [image]

 He opened it.

 SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

 What.

 MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

 Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

 GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

 No way. Siblings were wild.

 GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

  SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

 The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

 MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

 Miles took a long time to respond.

 MM: yeah

 Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

 GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

 Oh, nice. That was a relief.

 MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

 Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

 GL: sure

 --

  [GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

 It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

 There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

 SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

 Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

 MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

 Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

 SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.  

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

 Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

 GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

 That—

Sounded kind of nice?

 GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl                                    

 That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

 GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

 Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

[florencemachina]

So I work for a 💫company💫

And let's say this company have a lot of green in their theme, and a big capital letter for their logo, and is ONLY found in the South right

Well, boy howdy have I got a story for YOU. One of my coworkers found me working back in the kitchen of deli and told me that customer service hates me apparently. So naturally im curious, im like why does customer service hate me? And hes like well idk if its all of customer service but ik at least 1 person who hates ur fucking guts and im like 😮 wtf!!! So hes like do u wanna know who it is? Yeah? No? Yeah? And im like YES I WANNA KNOW FUCKIN TELL ME!!! Hes like its *this person who is a cis woman and a lesbian*

Ive NEVER had a problem with this chick either. Like shes standoffish but i assumed thats just like her personality, right? But i guess fuckin not! So naturally i tell him ive never had any problems with her before and hes explains she said:

"Well that little girl over in deli keeps making everyone call her a boy and she walks around all high and mighty wearing girls clothes" and im like FUCKING PARDON??? and he told her, like "hey some people arent fully transitioned but we still need to respect their pronouns, even if we dont agree with them. And ofcourse im like did u report her? To which hes like Well no, do you want me to? And im like YES?????

So since it's pride month, let's talk about transphobia, yeah? I've got it pinned on my other blog, and I'm not sure if it's pinned here, but terfs and transphobes among other people are not welcome. And this right here? Is terf shit. You never know what someone is going through or how they live their life. I've had a handful of conversations with this girl, and not once have I corrected my pronouns to her cus for me it's like why bother? We work in different departments. Why does she HAVE to know? Now, this isnt the case for every trans person, but for me personally it's a hassle to force everyone to use my correct pronouns.

HOWEVER

When you create a safe space for transphobes, you create an unsafe space for transgender folks. I explained to my coworker that he NEEDS to report that to management because *that woman* will continue to spread slander and hate until my workspace is unsafe to attend. This reaches much farther than my feelings. Imagine if someone who's still in the closet had heard that? Now they feel unsafe at work. Or if I was just starting testosterone and was feeling very unconfident? Terf shit is this kind of transmedical righteousness that floats around lgbtq+ spaces. Your gender is your own to define. And if someone lets you know their pronouns, just fucking respect them. It's basic shit. What if I invalidated her experience as a lesbian by saying "you just havent found the right man"? My choice to wear effeminate clothing during my off hours may not even be something I can help. I have to take binder breaks, unfortunately revealing my breasts under my shirts.

Also, hot take, maybe clothes aren't fucking gendered. Another hot take, maybe im too poor to afford masculine style clothes. Or? I could just not like the way they fit/look on me. It could be any number of reasons, but regardless? The way I present myself is no proper indication of my gender. Get that terfshit outta here.

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

scenario where hisoka is your boss and he’s giving you a promotion and one of the benefits is being naughty after work hours in his office ;) thank you so much! love the way you write💜💜

Sure baby~ I haven't written for my man's in ages 🤣🤣🤣 I just want you to know how much I fucking hate the name "Mr. Morow" so I added it to just piss myself off 🙃😂 idk how business shit works so I tried I hope you enjoy anyway~😂

Being at the top of his list meant one of two things. Either being fired, or being promoted. You got lucky, seeing as you did your job and you did it well. You made the most sales out of all of your coworkers and Hisoka, your boss, was rather reliant on your skills it seemed. He called you into his office and told you about your promotion, leaving you bouncing your way home that day. Of course, when you came back to work the next day, he called you back into his office, saying he had something important to talk to you about. What that was, you weren't actually sure. Nobody else was really in the building at this time of the night, except maybe a few over timers.

You had barely made it to the door when he called you in.

"Come in miss l/n." his voice was sultry sweet to your ears, luring you in closer to him. You weren't necessarily in love with your employer, as a matter of fact you had a boyfriend at home. Though you did lust for Mr. Morow at times. You waltzed up to his desk, shutting the door behind you, and sat in the chair in front of him. Your legs crossed at the knee and your hands folded on top of them, your back straightening and chin lifting for a facade of confidence. You didn't think he'd fire you of course, not this late in the evening and certainly not after just promoting you. He leaned over his desk, his eyes fixated on yours.

"Good afternoon dear, how was your shift?" he cooed. You gave him a small smile, happy to have been asked. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to question you about your day, or any of his employees for that matter.

"It was alright, same as always." you replied. Mr. Morow nodded his head slowly, averting his eyes to his folded hands on the desk. When the amber yellow met you again you couldn't help but feel a pang of... something. It was a difficult thing to process right away, but it was rather pleasurable, stifling the minor whine in your throat as you gulped quietly.

"May I ask why I was called in so late, sir?" you shifted in your seat to a more suitable positioning of professionalism, as if the one you held wasn’t already good enough. Mr. Morow took notice of your change in behavior, letting his head rest on his folded hands and letting his gaze linger on you. He hummed when you responded accordingly, your eyes falling to your feet.

“I simply wanted to advise you of assets and benefits of this new position you’ve been offered Miss L/N, you actually get to have one of them tonight if you so wish. Though I don’t think your lover would approve very much.” he explained, sitting up straight and opening a drawer from underneath his desk, smacking a file on the wood top and closing the drawer. His manicured hands flipped open the folder to reveal some paperwork to give to you. Scooting your chair closer, you eyed the stack in front of you. His final sentence swam around in the haze of your mind. What did that even mean?

“These are the benefits I’ve listed for you specifically, there’s just one that I wasn’t sure how to word so I changed it up a bit. It may sound a bit odd.” he handed you the packet so you could look through it. From what you saw everything seemed normal. Dental, doctors, car, all insurance policies and benefits, vacation time was extended as well as an upgrade in pay. Though the only thing you could think of that could possibly have any connotation with Mr. Morow’s words was something along the lines of ‘able to stay after hours and withhold a key to the building’. Even that didn’t seem remotely similar to what the other promotions got. Sure, they could extend their hours if they pleased, but none got an actual key to the building like this. Only the main manager of the building was allow to have that.

“Mr. Morow, are you sure this was right? You’re allowing me to hold a key to the building?”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t trust you Miss L/N?” your last name rolled off his tongue so easily and it made you shiver.

“Do I get the key tonight?” you neatly rearranged the packet back to normal before setting it back down onto the desk before him, his hands still folded in front of him. The way his eyes smiled behind his bangs along with his mouth turned your cheeks a bright pink. Something about it set you off, but in a good way.

When he finished plotting whatever it was in his head, Mr. Morow sat up straight again and motioned for you to come to him with his two forefingers.

“Come dear.” he beckoned you with sweet lilts in his tone. Of course your first instinct was to deny, saying that if this was going where you thought it was then you’d both surely lose your job if anyone found out. But on the other hand you almost couldn’t help yourself, your legs moving to stand before you could stop them really. Mr. Morow leaned back in his chair, pushing it back to give you room on his desk. Your pencil skirt suddenly felt more fitting than it had earlier, suffocating the heat between your legs. Mr. Morow motioned for you to sit in front of him on the wood.

"You get to stay after hours with me if you like, meaning you get the keys for the morning shifts to enter. Of course I won't make you do mornings, I'll keep you on evenings if you like. But under one condition."

"I'll take it." you stated before he could even get his sentence all the way out. His yellow eyes widened and his lips upturned in a smile.

"Good girl." he cooed, leaning forward with his head nearly on your lap. Instinctivly your legs opened enough for his head to enter. He seemed to be slightly surprised at your bold actions. Possibly suspecting you wouldn’t be so willing.

"You're rather eager, has the man at home not been treating you well?" he chuckled, taking your thighs in his hands and pushing them up and open more. The mention of your boyfriend somehow didn't even faze you. You simply allowed Mr. Morow to continue his movements. He rolled his chair closer to you, pushing you back slightly. You fell onto your elbows with your head following suit, staring at the brightly lit ceiling above you.

The sudden pressure of his tongue against your clothed slit sent goosebumps crawling around your thighs. You let out a stifled whine of pleasure. Mr. Morow kissed your pussy gently and hummed, letting his thumb slide your panties to the side. Your skirt had ridden up a considerable height and you were tempted to just take it off at this point. He lapped his tongue between your folds, focusing on penetrating the damp hole there. His free hand pressed lightly on your clit, nudging you closer towards your orgasm. His thumb flit across the sensitive bud before sliding his tongue up to lick circles around you. Your breathing was completely off as the overwhelming feeling continued.

Before you could come close to finishing, he pulled away, letting your panties fall back into place. You let out an exasperated whine of disappointment.

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his thigh from his desk. Your panties were soaked, covered in saliva and your own arousal. The contact against his leg and your pussy made you whimper, bucking against him immediately. He stopped you mid hump and waved his finger at you.

"Oh I don't think so, at least not yet princess. You can wait." His hands held a vice grip on your hips, immobilizing them. You whined to him as you swished your legs. Hisoka chuckled at your cute action before tensing his thigh. Immediately you clenched, of course around nothing, but nonetheless you felt the friction. Your head rested on his shoulder to hide the shame of your need. He tittered at your adorableness.

"No need to be shy dear, it's only me~" he soothed, his hands resting on your ass to squeeze gently. You tried to rut again his thigh again. He didn't stop you this time, in, fact encouraging the action by leaning back to watch you.

"Does that feel good?" he assisted your movements by rocking your hips along his leg. The added momentum gave you more friction to get off on. Your hands gripped the top of his thigh harshly for better grip to stabilize yourself as you picked up your pace. Hisoka found this amusing apparently as when he raised your chin to look at him he gave you a sly smirk.

"Answer me kitten." he kept his distance from you and the observing nature of his position made you shy, but arousal was clouding too much of your pain to think about it long. It made you even hotter and you couldn't help the whimper as you nodded your head.

"Yes sir..." you muttered, your lids falling closed as the feeling took over your core. Your abdomen was tightening this time and fairly quickly. You bounced a little to alleviate the ache on your clit as you reached closer for your high. Mr. Morow didn't stop you this time, simply letting you ride your end out on top of him.

"Oh good girl~" he praised you again while his hands wandered up your shirt, unbuttoning the blouse in the process. You could feel yourself going slack, your body relaxing into his touch. Once the buttons of your shirt were handled, he cupped your breath roughly, his nails grazing your skin. Another soft whine left your lips as your hands reached up to his wrists, holding onto him because of you sensitivity. His hands traveled down your waist to your underwear to take them off. You lifted your legs accordingly for easier removal and let them fall back down heavily. Mr. Morow stood you up off his thigh and turned you around, bending you over his desk. He wasted no time in shoving in a saliva slicked finger into your weeping sex before pulling it back out again. Your head laid onto the thick wood of the desk, arms folded under you gripping onto the straps of your bra.

Mr. Morow quickly filled you with his length, most likely wary of how long you were taking in his office suddenly. He gave you no time to adjust before pounding into you, his hand covering your mouth in case you got to loud. Your eyes were wide in surprise at the intrusion, not expecting something so big. Your fingers white-knuckled from your tight grip on your bra strap, trying to hang onto something. The way his tip brushed against your sweet spot made your legs shudder against the table, barely able to stand up. One of his hands held you under your hips and pulled up changing the angle at which his thrusts reached you. Your own hands grabbed onto his wrist for dear life as he changed his pacing to a much quicker pattern. You hadn’t finished yet, but you could already feel your wetness dripping between your thighs.

“Oh dear, are you close already?” his teasing voice sounded from behind you when your walls tightened around him. His motion didn’t falter in the slightest, in fact slamming into you with more vigor, ready to finish himself off. Your nails had dug into his hand, drawing blood onto your fingers and his desk. The hand covering your mouth let go and instead laced it self into your hair, tugging your head up and forcing your back into an uncomfortable arch. You braced your forearms over the desk, gasping for air with every pump of his hips.

“Come now sweetheart, I know you can sing beautifully~” the metaphor enlightened your mind, setting fire to any decency you had left. Moans and curses slipped from your lips, making Mr. Morow grunt from behind you. The sounds he made made you clench again, tightening around his twitching cock. His hand left your hair and slipped between your legs underneath you, sliding around your swollen clit once more to push you over the edge. Your moans soon turned back into whimpers and whines as your orgasm leaked through your folds and over your employers dick, one of your legs rising to open yourself more. Mr. Morow moaned out loud for you once he finished his own high, riding it out inside of you as you painfully let him finish. Once you set your leg back down you couldn’t stop shaking. He pulled out of you and zipped his pants back up, whirling to find your panties and setting them next to you.

“Go ahead and put those back on. I’ll drive you home tonight.” he offered, finding his suit jacket so he could grab his keys. Lazily, you slid your underwear back over your legs and followed him out the door, a few eyes glancing towards you as you passed by.

[starlocked01]

Beautiful Mistakes

AO3 @tsshipmonth2020

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary-  Remy can't think before he has his coffee and that causes problems for him and his soulmate.

A/N- Slightly altered so that the marks disappear a few minutes after they’ve been received.

Day 9 Remile- Whatever you draw on your skin shows up on your soulmate

Emile could feel the slight itch on his cheek that indicated a message from his soulmate had appeared. He flushed with embarrassment but kept his composure. He quickly scrawled on his wrist.

Not now, Rem. I'm with a client.

He turned back to his patients with a smile and his wrist itched as Remy replied.

Oops

"Doc, you okay?"

"My apologies, my soulmate likes to send messages when he wakes up. Except he works… at night," Emile sighed, affectionately yet exasperated.

"Well the flags look cute, I guess as long as you're okay with your patients knowing..." Dot smiled and nodded encouragingly.

Emile paled, "he didn't…"

"I think he did," Larry replied.

Emile put a hand to his cheek, "it's a pride flag isn't it?"

"Oh don't worry, Doc! It's so cute! Larry, isn't it cute?"

"He's going to be rather upset with me. I can't check it, and he's not out at work yet… but enough about me, back to Dorry! Or if you prefer, Larrydot?? " Emile grinned despite the looks of confusion the couple were giving him. His cheek and wrist continued to itch but he insisted on staying focused on the session.

By the time Larry and Dot were leaving, the itching had crawled up his forearm. Remy must be rather upset.

He checked his watch. The next appointment was in 20 minutes. He could take 5 to read through the tirade and would still be able to review notes for the next couple. He rolled up his sleeve to see a block of text that grew more frantic the farther it got up his arm.

Babe check out the drawing!

I worked hard on that girl pls appreciate me

Em i have work in an hour

Look. At. Your. Cheek.

This isn't funny!

Okay it was supposed to be funny but i can't have a gay flag on my face at work they will kill me!!!!

Bitch

Bitch

You don't love me im gonna die because you don't love me

No one is gonna believe me if i have to lie about this

Please????

>:[

Emile chuckled and wrote back quickly.

This is your fault for drawing on your cheek. You know I work and can't check messages right away.

He checked the time again and pulled out his phone, opening the camera app. He admired the little gay flag crossed with a pan flag. He took a quick selfie to preserve the drawing on his phone. It really was sweet, if unfortunately timed. Luckily, most of his clients would be fairly understanding. Remy's coworkers on the other hand would not.

The tirade on his arm had faded and  been replaced with a new line from Remy.

Don't judge me I didn't have my coffee yet girl

Emile chuckled and pulled his sleeve back down, finding the file and notes he had for the next couple's session.

Remy sat in his car, obsessively checking the mirror until the flags on his cheek faded away. The last thing he needed was to get outed by a soul mark. He was usually late anyway because of the line at Starbucks, what harm would one more day do?

A lot of harm, apparently.

His boss was waiting by the loading dock, impatiently tapping his foot as Remy strolled up.

"'Sup? What are we-"

"Don't even bother clocking in. You don't do shit here and this is the fifth time you've been late this month. You're done."

Remy sputtered, "this is homophobic!"

His boss stared hard at him, eyes narrowing, "You're lazy and you're gay? You're FIRED!"

"Whatever! Your loss, you prick!" Remy turned and flipped the man off as he walked back to his car. He got in and locked the doors, taking some deep breaths. He considered writing to Emile, but decided this was probably an in-person topic.

He restarted the car and drove home, mentally preparing for a lot of explaining.

Emile was surprised to see Remy's car in the driveway when he got home and more than a little concerned. He parked and hurried inside. He found his soulmate sitting in the dark, sipping coffee, and scrolling instagram.

"Remy? Are you okay?"

"Got fired."

"Oh my stars! What happened?"

Remy gave an exasperated sigh, "he didn't like me being late. He also blamed me being gay so idk maybe there's a lawsuit there."

"Was it because of the flags? I tried to check as soon as possible…"

"No… I'm usually late anyway," Remy sank deeper into the couch and Emile moved to sit down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Maybe it was time for a career change. You can find somewhere more accepting with less crazy hours."

"Maybe I'll become a stripper. They make good money right?" Remy mused, leaning into Emile’s side. The other man wrapped him in a one armed hug.

"While I am sure you'd be a natural, I'd be very concerned for your safety as a sex worker, dear. What about something you're passionate about?" Emile tried to be encouraging, numbers running through his head calculating exactly how long they could live off a single salary.

The outlook was not super promising.

"Don't worry, babe, I'll do some research tonight and fill out some applications. Promise," Remy gave Emile a smile that was skin deep, "what do you want for dinner? I'm starving."

After a week of Remy submitting applications and hearing nothing back, Emile was about ready to suggest the exotic dancer route himself. It wasn't that they were under financial stress (yet), moreso that Remy was a lot more rambunctious being cooped at home during the night. He kept waking Emile up too early and the loss of sleep was starting to affect his clients.

"Hey Doc? You're kinda unusually quiet today…"

Emile shook himself back to alertness, "sorry about that Elliott, where were we?"

"Um," they tapped their fingers together while thinking, "I think I was talking about how my soulmate never writes back. They check every message but I never get any from them. It doesn't… feel good."

"Remember what we've said before, Elliott, your worth isn't based on your soulmate. Whatever reason they choose not to write back, the fact of the matter is that you're still an amazing and powerful person in your own right."

Emile was interrupted by an itching on his wrist. Remy would usually still be asleep by now it was late enough in the morning.

He resisted the urge to check the mark as he spoke with Elliott and he could feel the itch crawling up his arm.

After the session, Emile quickly pulled up his sleeve, praying for good news.

I GOT IT!!!

Finally got an interview for tomorrow!!

<3 <3 <3

There were several more hearts and Emile allowed himself a small smile of relief. He doodled back a heart or two for Remy before returning his focus back to work.

They could celebrate when that interview turned into a position.

He greeted the next couple with a broader smile and a tad more exuberance, much to their dismay.

Remy was nervous. This job sounded too good to be true and they'd practically hired him on the spot. He wasn't about to let his soulmate down though.

He followed the man down the hall, sipping his tea for comfort.

"Honestly just don't let anyone eat anything inedible or hit each other and you'll do great," the man smiled, showing Remy into a room with a dozen kids and two other frazzled looking adults.

Piece of cake right?

Emile was in the middle of a session when he felt the itch on his cheek. He tried to smile through it, but then he felt more itches on his legs and arms and nose. His clients were too preoccupied actually talking through their issue with each other so Emile checked his arm to find a rainbow of scribbles that kept growing.

He put a hand to his face to cover his nose and cheek. What had Remy gotten himself into?

Pretty soon his clients were used to seeing Emile with colorful marks all over his face. He explained that his soulmate worked with kids and almost everyone nodded knowingly. He did ask that if they ever saw an inappropriate drawing they let him know so he could check it right away.

Some days he would draw little cartoons for the kids to fill in. They loved that and he always sent them little hearts back when they did a good job (they always did a good job).

And most importantly, Remy was having a great time with his job and got to be home at nights, so they saw each other a lot more often. They both enjoyed that.

[greatfay]

since ur answering asks and shit can u explain what u meant by generational differences in communication

Damn it’s like 2015 tumblr when my inbox used to be WET. So if you’re talking about the controversial opinions post, YES, like I totally understand where people are coming from when they say that generational divides aren’t real (because they aren’t, they’re arbitrary) and distract us from real problems and yes they paint past generations as collectively bigoted when Civil Rights protestors in the 60s (who are in their 70s and 80s now) are mirrors to BLM protestors today, who could be of any age, but the most vocal and famous (at least online, especially irt to the founders, like Patrisse Cullors who is 37.

But how we communicate is sooooo different. I really point to the Internet and Social Media as a major influence in how younger millennials (more Tom Hollands and less Seth Rogans—see even there, I feel like there are two different types of Millennials) and Gen Zrs/Zoomers and even Generation Alpha behave and communicate. We live in a world where we grew up either knowing right out the gate or discovering the hard way that what we say and do has permanence, the kind of permanence that prior generations have never experienced until today. The dumb things kids have been saying since forever can now follow them... forever. We have an inherent understanding of how online spaces work. Compare that to, idk, let’s say you posted on your Facebook (for the first time in 18 months) “All these big and bad grown ass Senators going after actual child Greta Gerwig lol ok, you’re so brave for attacking a CHILD over climate change” and then your aunt, who’s turning “forty-fifteen” in May replies to your post with “So happy to see my passionate niece! Much love from us, hope you’re doing well. Paul is doing great, waiting on his screening results. Tell your mom I said we miss her, we need to get together, we forgive her for last Christmas.”

Like... ok there’s a lot going on there, but your hypothetical aunt is oversharing on a publicly accessible post. And even with the most strict of privacy settings, she’s oversharing where your other Facebook friends (which may include classmates, coworkers, etc.) can see. But she’s saying things that would only be appropriate in a 1-on-1 conversation. This Aunt doesn’t have an understanding of such boundaries, she’s not as technologically literate and hasn’t grown up in a world of Virtual Space, she still gets most of her news from TV, she trusts what a reporter on Channel 4 will read off a script more than what actual video footage of an incident might reveal on Twitter, and she has no clue that she’s been sharing her location data with every post she makes.

There’s such a huge difference. I think it even affects how we experience and express stress and frustration. I think growing up partially in online spaces has made me more accustomed to conflict and consequence-free arguing than someone who never had to worry about that. I’ve been exposed so much to harassment and bullying, triangulating and echo chambers in forums and threads, and vastly opposing point of views at such an early age that it’s had an effect on how I see the world. Compare this to a customer I helped two weeks ago who was looking for a specific type of supplement for children. I found it for her, I handed her exactly what she was looking for, even though her description of the product actually matched several different products; to make sure I’d done my job thoroughly and that she leaves happy and satisfied and doesn’t bother me again, I then show her more products that match her description so that she knows she has options. And she proceeds to freak out, saying “NO, NO, I’M LOOKING FOR [X] AND IT HAS TO BE [XYZ]” and when I say freak out, she looked stressed and PANICKED. And being a retail employee wears you down bit by bit, and add COVID on top of it and little shit like this makes you snap, sometimes. So I have to cut her off like “Why are you screaming and freaking out, jfc you’re holding what you said you wanted. It’s in your hands. I gave you what you wanted, I’m just showing you more things.”

That customer is not an exception, she’s not a unique case. She’s representative of a frightening percentage of her generation, the kids who watched Grease and The Breakfast Club and Ghost in theaters when they were originally released. This is how they communicate and process information. She could not, for some reason, register that her need had been fulfilled, and defaulted to an extreme emotional response when given new and different information.

I’ve yet to deal with someone younger than 35 act the same way, the exceptions being the kids of very wealthy people at my new job who reek of privilege I gag when they walk in—but even they are like *shrugs* “ok whatever” and understanding when there’s something I can’t do for them.

Me: “sorry, we are totally out of that one in your size, but I can order it for you, it’s 2-3 day shipping at no cost to you and we ship it straight to your house”

A rich, white, attractive 22-year-old who’s had access to organic food, a rigorous dermatologist, and financial security since she was born: “mmm... sure, I’ll order it”

A 47-year-old of any socioeconomic background, of any race, in the same situation: “AHHHHHHHHHHH”

I just think it’s crazy how three generations of kids and young adults raised in a world where everything moves so much faster, where knowledge and entertainment and communication can be gathered so much faster, are often so much more polite and patient and understanding. Yesterday I told an older man (mid-50s) whose native tongue is the same as mine, as clearly and succinct as possible, that what he’s looking for is “in aisle 4.” He proceeded to repeat back, “Aisle 7?” four time before I dropped everything to show him what he needed in aisle 4, despite his insistence that he didn’t need me to walk him there. 4 and 7 sound nothing alike in English. There’s just something going on up there 🧠 that’s different.

Oh, other generational divides!!! We have different approaches to labor and working. Totally different! I’m a “young” millennial where I’m almost Gen Z, and I’ve noticed an awful trend among my demographic where people actually brag about working 90 hour work weeks. Or brag about how they skip breaks and live on-call to get the job done for “the hustle” like this “hustle, become a millionaire by 30″ culture that’s dominated these kids, idk where tf that came from. Like why are you proud of being a wage slave, getting taken advantage of by your millionaire/billionaire overlords. Compare this to my mother’s generation (she’s a borderline Genius X’er, she and her best friend were a year too young to watch Grease when it came out and had a random older woman buy tickets for her; she went to Prince concerts, took photos of him, then sold the photos on buttons at school, that’s her culture and teenage experience), where she’s insistent on her rights and entitlements as an employee, and these things she instilled me: “whatchu mean they didn’t schedule a break for you and you’re working 12 hrs today? oh no, you’re off, don’t answer your phone cuz you are NOT available!” There are Gen X’ers who entered the workforce at a time that America was drifting toward this corporate world, with more strictly defined regulations, roles, and understandings of labor rights (and also, let’s talk about how the 80s there was so much more attention on workplace harassment, misogyny and gender divides in wage gaps, etc. etc... not that much has changed, but at least it was talked about!). There are young people today who are taken advantage of because they aren’t as informed or don’t feel as secure and valuable enough to claim what belongs to them.

At the same time, those generations (Gen X and older) have a different viewpoint of hierarchies in the workplace and respect irt our direct supervisors. That’s how you get this blurring of boundaries between Work Life and one’s Personal Life that leads to common tropes in media written by their generations, where oh no! I’m having my boss over for dinner and the roast beef is still defrosting :O is such a “relatable thing” for them... meanwhile us younger generations are like I don’t even like that you know where I live, and if I see your 2017 Honda Civic pass my place one day, we’re going to have a problem. I think older generations have a different relationship with the word “Respect” than we do. Like, my grandma, who’s turning 87 (?) this year, and the other seniors in my area, they have a different concept of honor and an expectation of professional boundaries that I, and my mom and her generation, just don’t see (so then there’s something in common with Gen X’ers and the rest of us.) My dad grew up in a world where talking and acting like George Bailey and knocking on someone’s door with a big smile could get you a job, a job that could pay for college and rent no problem. My mom grew up in a world that demanded more prestige, where cover letters and references could get you into some cushy jobs if you’re persistent and ballsy enough. And I grew up in a world where potential employers literally don’t see your face when you apply unless they lurk on any social media profiles you have publicly available and they hold all the cards, and you need all those CVs and reference letters just to make minimum wage... so I feel like I am powerless in the face of such employers.

[newathens]

sally and amphitrite and poseidon iv. i will be honest idk how far this fic will go but it’s been so much fun writing it. i hope you have fun reading it xx—

“Reservation for Jackson.”

The restaurant was cavernous, two levels and a grand staircase, but still warm and welcoming. Candles burned at white-clothed tables. Light-hearted conversation filtered through the air. Low-lighting made everything overtly intimate. Amphitrite’s hand in hers was her focal point as they were led to their table.

Sally smiled behind her menu. They used her name. 

Albeit—the Mist is what got the table. Still, it was the little things. 

“Sally?”

“Hm?” she looked up to find green eyes on her.

“How was work?” Poseidon asked. She tilted her head and arched a brow. He smiled, “You know I care about the mundane human activities, as you refer to it.”

“It was just fine,” she said.

“And Jared?”

“Oh, still a dick.”

“Jared?” Amphitrite asked. Sally leaned forward, dropping her voice even though the chance of eavesdroppers was nonexistent.

“This annoying coworker I have. He’s technically a little higher up than most of us in the department, but we still all work in the same cubicles and eat our bag lunches, so there’s no reason for him to be as arrogant as he is. Also, he’s completely sexist. He hides it, but you can tell.”

Amphitrite hummed in reply and set her eyes downcast.

“Don’t smite him,” Poseidon followed without pause.

“Never without her permission.”

“You say that so casually,” Sally said.

“She’s trigger happy,” he said.

“You’re one to talk, earthshaker.”

The conversation went on from there. Only when the waiter came for their orders did there come a stumble. 

“Oh, she doesn’t eat,” Poseidon said when the man had asked what Amphitrite would be having, then he glanced sideways to Sally. “She never eats. Refuses to, really. Thinks human food is below her.”

The waiter paled and Sally wondered, idly, what he was actually hearing. She smiled sympathetically. Again, the two gods played their staring game but in the end, Amphitrite ordered the salmon and wine. Expensive wine.

“What a dent that’s going to make to our wallet,” he said nonchalantly, but Sally watched how his eyes lingered on her. As if in shock. As if this was unheard of, something Amphitrite would only do once in a thousand years. For a special reason. . . or someone.

Sally didn’t want to be presumptuous, she couldn’t possibly be the one thing that broke a goddess’ eternal fast, so she took a deep breath and kept talking.

.

They laughed and joked and drank as the restaurant rose and fell in busy bouts around them. It felt natural in a way Sally hadn’t often experienced before. Sure, human connection was possible, but growing up without both parents always left the feeling of otherness.

With them, otherness was somewhat a prerequisite of belonging.

She was enthralled—couldn’t get enough of them. They seemed to glow the happier they got, a soft, golden shine that drew your eye to them. And the way their iris’ twinkled, the colors twirling, never quite staying still. The stories they told as if she had been there to witness—thank goodness she had brushed up on mythology or she’d be lost.

It all felt strangely familiar as if there had never been before, only now, and this is what was since the start. A wonderful thing to feel. No wonder she lov—

Sally pulled back. Not that far, she thought, not again.

When the main courses were served, Amphitrite stared at her plate. Even the fork looked foreign in her hand.

“You don’t have to eat it,” Sally said.

“No, I ordered it,” she insisted, though grimaced as the food hit her mouth. A grimace that turned to confusion.

Poseidon laughed behind his palm, which made Sally lift her own to hide a humored smile.

“It’s not. . .the worst thing in this world,” Amphitrite said.

And the longer they ate, the more her fork found their plates as well.

She had come to a decision.

Wine was a dangerous, dangerous drink.

Not because it muddled her senses—they were fine. Not because of loose lips—she kept biting her tongue. But because it made her stare—and for that, she would never forgive it. Together they conversed, caught up in a private matter as she had fallen silent. He tan, broad, raven curls. She lithe, sharp, red. Poseidon had his cuffs rolled up. Amphitrite, the fabric of her neckline, plunged deep down. They smiled back and forth amid small quips, unaware of the madness they drove her towards. The two gods, finally at ease, looking every bit a couple, were radiant.

Radiant. He had called her radiant. 

Poseidon took Sally’s hand across the table as if sensing himself in her thoughts.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” she sighed.

“I hope we did not cause you too much stress.”

“No, this was perfect,” a pulse passed between their palms. “It was perfect.” She glanced towards Amphitrite and found the same hard stare pinpointed at their hands. Her heart dropped down the staircase in the middle of the room, porcelain against marble, each clink clink clink echoing in her eardrums. She blinked away the brilliance, “I need some air.”

Amphitrite snapped out of it, “Come, I’ll go with you.” She gestured with her head towards the waiter approaching, which Poseidon caught and nodded in reply, a practiced set that reminded her quite vividly that they were husband and wife.

The goddess’ hand in hers was firm as they left, but it was simple to guide a doe if it was fool enough to believe you.

The frigid air tickled at her skin and she shivered, thoughts sinking into mindless chatter to hide from the cold, shocked when a coat found its way over her shoulders. Not her coat, not a new coat, Amphitrite’s coat.

“My coat,” Sally said.

“Don’t worry, he will bring it.”

Sally drew the fabric closer, running her fingers down its edges. It felt sleek, luxurious—something that was clearly not her own. She spoke suddenly, with fervor, “Will this work? I mean, are you actually okay with this?”

Amphitrite tilted her head, “Excuse me?”

“I saw you staring, earlier and just now. You look so, so angry when he touches me. There’s this burning in your eyes and it—do you hate me?” Sally bit her lip, not yet upset, simply filled with a vibrant adrenaline that kept her heeled feet numb. 

Amphitrite slipped her hands inside the coat, around Sally’s waist, pulling them closer together. Her expression was gentle, almost embarrassed. The red of her hair glowed orange against the golden lights outside. “I do not hate you.”

Sally let out a sigh of relief.

“When I see you two, you have to understand, that was not hatred,” she lifted a hand to Sally’s cheek and slowly, traced the bottom lip with her thumb. “That was, I am—”

“Get on with the show, honey,” a gruff voice split through the moment.

At the end of the carpeted sidewalk, leaning against the pole of a decorative streetlight, stood a man with a cigarette in hand. He was clearly drunk. Rich, noisy, Wall Street.

Amphitrite fumed, a rushed breath escaping through her nose, and Sally slipped a hand around her wrist to distract her, possibly stop her.

But as life had proven before, timing was a bitch.

Poseidon joined them, walking much too confidently, stopping much too close, slipping a hand at the small of her back much too quickly to confuse the three of them for anything other than what they were.

The man laughed, “Oh shit, cheers to you, buddy. Living the dream.”

He understood fully the situation as she slipped her other hand along the collar of his coat. Sally felt very much like the owner of two Dobermans lying in wait for their prey.

“It’s one stupid human,” she tried nonchalantly.

“One too many,” Amphitrite countered.

“I meet douchebags every day and I never kill any of them.”

“Who said anything about kill?” Poseidon asked.

“How sinister,” Amphitrite said.

“Vindictive.”

“Downright evil.”

Sally made a point of looking unamused. Amphitrite pulled her away suddenly, farther from the man, and her nerves uncoiled only to spike again when she noticed Poseidon didn’t follow. Too soon did the goddess whisk her ‘round the corner, slipping into the shadows, away from roaming eyes, where she could not meekly protest.

For truly, it was deserved.

.

Over the centuries, sparse were the tales of sightings of the sea god, because most often, any sailor to witness him seldom survived.

But a small handful knew his real face.

He stepped closer to the human, silent despite the man’s conversation. And with each step, he seemed larger, stronger, more menacing, watching as the conversing died away to nothingness. The man tried for humor, only to lose all nerve and wait as the tense moment inched by, nothing but inches between them.

He could sense the fear of ten men all packed into one. It would satisfy her to keep it alive and so he retreated.

And in that retreat, the man threw out an insult.

The next moment, the human fell to its knees, pulling strings of seaweed straight from its mouth, choking up half the sea with it.

One more body fell into the pile.

.

They ran halfway down the block before stopping short.

“I’m used to tennis shoes,” Sally said and went to ramble until she caught Amphitrite’s gaze, who looked at her with bright eyes. Truly bright, glowing bright. Looking mesmerized and completely unaware, as if they hadn’t been interrupted. As if her husband wasn’t torturing a random human. “What is it—”

Amphitrite took Sally’s face like she had before and kissed her.

An urgent kiss that had her spinning. A quick kiss that turned into kisses. She gripped at the goddess’ blouse for dear life and hoped she wasn’t ruining it. It was a first kiss, one with meaning.

And when they pulled apart, Amphitrite appeared sated. “Jealous,” she said. “That was jealousy.”

“But I’m right here.”

“Don’t ask gods to explain themselves,” Amphitrite said and their laughter intermingled. “You two are so familiar with one another—”

“Well, I would hope so—”

“—and I want to be familiar with you.”

“I thought we already were.”

The goddess tilted her head as if to say but not like that or not enough. Even further, though, Sally realized between the explaining and admittance and pure intention there lay wanting. Desire.

The air was finally clear, it felt, at least, to her. All worries gone, confusion dispersed. She held a secretive smile, one that had Amphitrite opening her mouth, only to be stopped as Sally brought their lips together again.

A bit more forceful this time, enough for them to stumble, closer to the wall, where the cool stone held her steady. The kisses came smooth, like a river, one blending into the next, no end in sight. Hands traced her bodice, free from pretense, eager to please. She welcomed it, returned it. 

The breakaway was instantaneous as a presence arrived, too close to be unaware of.

Poseidon stood a few paces back, both shocked and reserved, somehow. Somehow. In his eyes. It always came back to the eyes.

Amphitrite pulled away.

Sally was left alone, silent against the wall. She watched them play their staring game, but this one held no anger. They stood awkwardly, if a god could do that at all, looking scared, stressed. As if a debate was taking place, discussing the responsibilities and consequences of godly affairs. The nerve-wracking prospect of mingling with mortal beings. The natural way of gods and the livelihoods that were affected because of that.

That was exactly what was happening, she realized. Sally could not muster the reason as to why now, but she knew she was hurtling close to the possibility of losing one of them. Or both.

“I’m cold,” her voice pierced through the tension and snapped them back to reality. Her reality. Poseidon glanced towards her and extended his arm out. The coat hung there, an offering. She pushed off the wall, listened to the echoing click of her heels as she walked toward him, and took it from his palm. Then, without pause, before another beat of silence could pass, she placed herself against his instep, crowded close enough to fall off balance, and kissed him.

A kiss practiced and well-versed, gentle in her palms as they held his jaw, sure in his hands as they kept her steady. A kiss traveling down a path she had been many times before. She halted it a moment too soon, and turned without pulling away. 

Amphitrite caught her eye and joined them, looking almost mesmerized. That couldn’t be though, she couldn’t mesmerize a goddess.

But she had mesmerized a god. Many times. Even now. So why not?

Sally blushed harsh between them, cradled by their presence, bracketed by their arms, borrowed coat heavy on her shoulders. Borrowed coat. She ducked her head.

“Warm now?” he asked.

“Shut up,” she said. The pair laughed and that laughter encircled her and she fell to ease. Whatever the moment could have been was gone. They stayed. They were hers.

“Where to now?” Amphitrite asked. 

“I’m tired.” Her lie lingered amongst them.

“Well,” he shrugged, “To bed then I guess.”

Sally cleared her throat and nodded, “That would probably be best.”

Amphitrite gave a long, languid hum, “Oh, you two are ridiculous,” then pulled Poseidon by his lapel right over her shoulder. The sight of them kissing burned into her corneas as the earth gave way beneath her and they dispersed into a flurry of sea mist.

[dear-yandere]

lots of ilya (oc) q&a below - part 2

tw. heavy and graphic mentions of noncon and murder (typical ilya stuff), mentions of childhood abuse.

[ part 1 ]  [ part 3 ]

question: So, would Illya still like being murdered by his darling if the darling was immortal? Like he can shun the darling, but how would he feel if that darling surprise-attacked him?

answer: betrayed, at least in the first few moments. there’s something particularly romantic, to him at least, about a darling who loves him so dearly they’d go against his wishes and still reward him with the highest form of love he thinks anyone has to offer - death. he’d certainly like being killed by this type of darling, and being the little shit he is, he’d mock them in his last moments; after all, they just killed the only other person that could possibly understand the reality of murderous love.

“is this worth being alone for eternity, darling?”

question 1: How would Ilya feel about a darling that is an assassin for the mafia? Would he view them as more exciting prey since they can fight back? I feel like assassin darling might view his attempts on their life annoying especially if it’s during a hit.

question 2: How would illya feel about an assassin darling? Would he find them interesting because they are capable of fighting back?

answer: ilya would no doubt find this darling intriguing; it’s not everyday he somehow manages to court an assassin, especially one that’s after his head. it’d be a game of cat and mouse, one where he’s likely to lose given that he isn’t a mastermind. he can’t keep his game going for long, not against someone who’s literally trained to kill evil men like him. considering how lax he is about who he courts and kills, ilya no doubt has a bounty over his head among the underworld. one wrong kill and the next thing he knows, the mafioso father of his last lover is hellbent on rearranging his guts. it’s not an easy life, and that makes it all the more fun to toy around with an expert killer while he has the chance.

question: I can't get this outta my head ever since that one ask where ilya would be happy if his darling successfully kill him and I was thinking would he come back as a ghost because yeah he's happy that someone "loves" him but wouldn't he still have this hatred towards the world that makes his soul unable to move on? OR a better one is one of his darlings coming back as a ghost haunting him??? Idk these ideas have been rattling in my head for a while and I'm wondering your perspective on it.

answer: so ilya is actually set in a different world than every other oc i’ve made, so there’s nothing supernatural at play here. but if there was, he’d be annoyed that he’s come back as a ghost after such a wonderful display of love from his darling. what’s done is done and he’d rather just move on.

funny thing is, when i was originally playing around with the concept of ilya, my first thought was a ghost! darling who continually haunts him long after he’s killed them. perhaps they whisper totally unsexy things to him while he’s in the heat of the moment...and of course he can’t do anything about it.

i wonder if they’d drive him mad enough to consult an exorcist or something...

question: what if... ilya’s darling accidentally killed someone though? out of self defense they strike someone down with a bit too much force and end up killing them, what if it’s a coworker that maybe ilya feared his darling might have caught feelings for. would he read it as his darling being in love with the man they killed? would he misread the whole ordeal? what would he do?

answer: as a victim of abuse and assault himself, he understands the important distinction between ‘love’ and defense. in fact, the shattering mentality of a darling who’s just had their first kill would be a welcome change for ilya. will they ask him for help? what will they do -- what sort of fun mental hoops will they jump through? how long will it take them to break? will he even have to intervene, or should he just watch as they slowly fall apart?

even if he feared his darling has caught feelings for someone else, he isn’t all that fussed so long as that darling is smart enough to give him what he wants when he wants it. in the end, they’ll die at the hands of his suffocating love anyways; darling’s wavering affections really make no difference when it comes to their fate.

question: honestly Ilya is such a wonderful character to me because he's the absolute opposite of everything I believe in. Like I think hurting others BC you've been hurt is the most egotistical disgusting thing u can do and hypocrites make my blood boil. I don't even wanna b his partner in crime or his lover but I'd LOVE to just sit down w him and have a nice discussion about our morals lol

answer: this isn’t a question but i’m including it here because i’m lazy but -- i completely agree! even as his creator, i find new paths to explore with him every day; messed up characters like him, especially killers, are so interesting to explore and pick apart their psyche.

a bit off topic, but i think you may find the ted bundy tapes on netflix of particular interest. you get a glimpse into someone that i, more than once, found myself basing ilya off of.

question: How does Ilya decide how long he wants his Darling to stick around before he kills them?

answer: whenever he feels his darling would suffer the most! every darling is different, of course, so it’s really up to his discretion. if his darling is the type to take things slow, he’ll likely kill them the first time they have sex as it’s so fun to betray their trust in such a way; on the other hand, if his darling is more sexually-outgoing, he’ll simply kill them when they least expect it -- perhaps going so far as to assault them without consent, all the while calling them derogatory names and proclaiming they practically begged him for this. his favorite part of murdering his beloveds is catching them off-guard -- it always makes for the best expressions and death screams. if he’s feeling particularly sadistic, he’ll slit their throat right before they cum; there’s always that quick flash of surprise followed by betrayal and finally...realization.

question: out of curiosity, did you make ilya sex-crazed as a side effect of his childhood abuse? kids who were abused tend to act impulsively (ex: drugs, unsafe sex), among many other things. if not, that’s a wild coincidence, but if so, thank you for being attention to the effects of childhood abuse on a person.

answer: that’s exactly it! i was going to explicitly mention this in his character post, but i didn’t want to offend anyone and risk anons telling me that “not all victims react like that”...even though i have firsthand experience with this topic (not childhood abuse, but i don’t intend to go more in-depth). 

anyways, i really wanted to create a character who shows the extreme end of the coping spectrum; rather than becoming quiet and reserved and fearful, there’s still that underlying fear but it manifests as ‘outgoing’ / impulsive behavior, though ilya’s case is obviously particularly extreme. in a way, he became the monster he hated in order to get the ‘sweetest’ form of revenge -- that’s why he knows how much of a hypocrite he is. he knows that better than anyone, but this is the only way he’s found that’s helped him ‘cope’ while also ‘getting back’ at those he hates -- the adults who did nothing to help him and in, some cases, led to his messed up outlook on life. this sentiment eventually extended to a misanthropic hatred of every adult he comes across; having spent his entire life faking himself and being the perfect charming good-boy his parents wanted, wooing anyone he sets his mind to is now fairly easy.

now i’m no expert on serial killers, especially ones with traumatic sexual experiences, but i’ve had yet to see a yandere oc who can relate to assault survivors while also managing to be so hypocritical and abnormal to this extent. in a way, ilya is very very close to my heart and i enjoy the feedback he’s gotten! i think the obsessive love that comes with yanderes ties in nicely with his contradictory character; his love is suffocating, just like the “love” of his teacher and the lack of love from his parents. his story is one of tragedy -- the famous modern-day (still debating if i should set this in the 1800s) Jack the Ripper, an enigma who keeps everyone at a distance because he himself is too terrified to admit the monster he’s become. he’s a character meant to be so outrageous and morally-corrupt and yet so frighteningly human.

enough of my rambling though, i’m glad you caught this and gave me a chance to further explain my thoughts on him! thank you dearly :]

[kim-isnt-seaweed]

Hi. I love your page 🤍 Can you please tell me how does it work to get married in Korea? Thanks Sending lots of love to you, and be safe 🥰

Hii! Thank you!

In what way? Like how do you get married or how it's like being married to someone Korean? I assume it's the ..former(??) First one.

Getting married in Korea has it's difficulties and also parts that are much more simple than in America. I think this is gonna be long so bear with me.

(It is long..sorry!!)

So let's start with a disclaimer. This is just from my experience and those around me, plus what you sometimes see on TV. The very basic generalized idea of how it works.

First, your date then you decide to get married. Like it's really like that, your date then at some point in whatever way you and your partner communicate you decide to get married, together as a couple; by this I mean no surprise proposals or whatever. Then you and your partner and both of your parents meet for the first time for a dinner where you tell them your plans, but this part is kinda fuzzy for me, what I've heard is that the old school traditional way is that you don't meet each other's Parents until this point but IDK how true that is now, I know I met T's parents (even his extended family) very fast even by American standards and T's friend who is engaged has met his GF's parents a few times here and there over the years but nothing official (as in going to family weddings together or spending holidays together something T and I did a lot) but anyway, and then as it happens in dramas some parents might be against it (but also Idk how true it is now if they have so much say in who you marry or not but given how much they have to do and pay for it, I feel like it's still true)

Then..you propose. In Korea, people don't actually propose until you officially know you're getting married. T "proposed" to me a week before we registered our marriage, and another of his friends who is already legally married to his wife will propose to her soon. point is you won't get proposed to until you guys already agreed on getting married. When I explained that in America it's usually a surprise and that is when you say yes or no they were kinda shocked haha

After this comes marriage registration and ceremony. The order in which you do this is up to you really, some people do the ceremony first and some people do the ceremony 3 years later like us haha. For the registration process it's fairly simple you get the required documents I can't remember what they are but yeah, go to the ..ward office ?? ( that's what google translate told me) give the papers, sign them and bara bim bara boom(apparently its bada bing bada boom 🙃) you married !!

Now the ceremony is the hard part. Multiple people have told me "Korean wedding ceremonies are a business" and boy they really are, it's a weird give and take of money between family members and most of it is for your parents and in-laws.

So first, The most important thing you have to do is set the venue, there are tons of wedding venues all over Seoul you just gotta choose one, set the date chose the available time (oh, here weddings are always around noon or early afternoon and last probably less than two hours cause you gotta be out before the next wedding) now if you have the venue you basically have everything else American/Colombian brides stress about: decorations for the ceremony?? You just deal with what the venue has that season (there are multiple halls per venue so the hall you choose does have a specific style though) bouquet?? You just chose from the options they give you. Entrance songs? Also, choose from the list. Dress? If you want the venue can also rent some pretty dresses for you. Studio? If you want you can also choose from a few studios the venue has partnerships with. Makeup & hair? If you want you can also do it at the venue. (All these "if you want" things have an extra cost though but not much more if you did it independently) reception?? Pshhh what's a reception?? In Korea you do the ceremony, take some pictures, people eat at the venue's buffet while you do some traditional ceremony with just the family elders, afterward you greet the guests and leave. So yes, in Korea if you have the venue you do take care of most of the things brides back home worry about a lot. T and I have been over this wedding since before we even did anything for it so we just fucken did everything with the venue haha

Once you get the venue then you pick put the dress and do the photoshoot and whatnot, but that is not the hard part. Now you go around the family elders (especially your father-in-law's family) and tell them the news, then traditionally the bride has to give each of her father-in-law's siblings 1million krw (little less than a 1000 dollars??) But worry not! On the day of the ceremony you get half of it back (don't ask me why not even T gets it) obviously my family being in Colombia where the Peso is like 4 times less than the Won can not afford that, so my FIL helped us out. Another part which is apparently traditional is that your in-laws buy you jewelry (in addition to the rings) I got two pairs of earrings and a necklace with two pendants and that's cause I was basically forced ( don't feel that comfortable getting expensive stuff) and then there's this other tradition where the bride's friends barricade the bride in her house and the groom's friends have to coax her to come out with gifts by the groom, we didn't do that -it's actually not that common anymore- but t did get me a bag, remember that one post about the man feeling like he has to buy expensive shit for his partner? Yeh, we actually went yesterday and when we came home as we were going to sleep he said that he felt very good that he finally got me something expensive.

After you go around the family elders asking them to come (i couldn't go cause I had the flu) you do the invitations. Now when booking the venue you give an estimate of around how many people but its usually always around 200, why? Cause guest lists don't exist!!! "Only family and friends/close ones" is not a thing that is used here. T has to invite his whole station, I have to invite everyone at my work, he has to invite everyone in his badminton club and his parents get to invite whoever the fuck they want because this is about them, not you. My MIL's badminton club is all going, people, my FIL works with we have never seen in our lives and random people my MIL knows from her bar, not to mention that you don't get to say "no plus ones" or "no children" just know random people are also gonna show up haha but that's not even the issue either, it's giving the invitations. That's a whole other protocol that fucks me up, it's not like in the u.s were you just casually give people the invitations like "hey, go to my wedding, k, byeee" nope, you gotta invite people to dinner or at the minimum buy them some coffee and shit..iiif your close, if not Idk man I have no one to invite that I'm not close too but T has to invite like captains and superiors and the poor man is stressing the fuck out. To the people you're not that close to (or have to suck up to...there's a lot of sucking up in Korea from what I've learned), a simple online invitation will be enough haha

Now after the invitations, there are a few other details you gotta arrange like who's going to Mc the ceremony (one of T's friends) the picture table (it's a table with pictures of you two but you gotta pay for those too) who's going to receive the money envelopes, it's usually: a person from the brides family gets the money from the bride's guests and a person from the grooms family gets it from his gets but since my guests are less than 20 and I have no family here, who cares. Then who's going to catch the bouquet, apparently here you just don't throw it at a group of women but you have to ask someone specifically, I asked my coworker. And who's going to sing the congratulatory songs (축하) one of T's friends will sing "아로하" by Jo Jung-suk and my coworkers will perform AOA's heart attack. Oh, the venue also has a photographer, and on the day before the ceremony the bride is always in a little room sitting on a small couch while guests take pictures with her and the groom is greeting guests haha oh oh! The moms wear hanboks throughout the ceremony and the aunts too.

Then you have to get the hanboks for the traditional ceremony. You can rent those but the lady convinced us to let her make ours from scratch although you can still give them back to them to rent them but the lady and my MIL convinced us to buy them. The traditional ceremony 폐백 pyebaek, Idk how it really is because I've never seen one but I've been told you are in traditional Korean clothes, do some things like serving tea, bounce some ..some ...nuts? Circle thingies on a cloth, feed the family elders, and do an on-the-floor bow for each and every one of them while they hand you money and give you marriage advice. Then you go out and greet the guests while they eat and you starve (that's what everyone says) and you leave for your honeymoon. We can't go on an actual honeymoon cause of my work and Corona but we'll spend the weekend somewhere nice.

And...

that's all I think. I don't know if I'm missing anything its 3 am Haha

Anyway, i hope this was at least fin to read haha thank you!! You stay safe too!♡

[izzy-b-hands]

Quarantine Tag Game

Tagged by @dabitchisback thank you!! I needed something to get me through this very slow morning of work!

Under a cut because y’all know I’m a wordy motherfucker lol.

Are you staying at home from school/work? 

Yes I am! I actually requested to be moved to work from home in part due to the COVID-19 stuff and due to some coworkers behaving like high schoolers and flat out bullying me (and I had had enough of that shit once it started making it hard to do my job lmao.) 

So just as they were setting it up for me, the clinic suddenly started realizing how serious this was and all of a sudden, they could find all the money for all the work from home equipment for a bunch of us in the non-direct patient contact side of things (funny, considering I’d begged to work from home over a year ago due to how bad my anxiety was getting with coworkers and patients when I was still in the direct patient contact part of it all, even offered to pay for the equipment, and was told it would always be too expensive and never be in the cards, even after my therapist recommended it for the sake of my mental health and blood pressure. Funny. that. Real funny.) 

If you’re staying home, who’s there with you?

Mostly my cat, Nisha. My mum works at the same clinic, but is front desk, so they’re rotating who goes in to the clinic and then who gets days off “to keep the financial health of the clinic” aka begging anyone who stays home for a day off (or in my sector who takes a day off due to reduced call volume) to take that time unpaid and not use PTO or EST...but we both have that time to use, so it is Being Used or we won’t be able to keep the lights on or the condo lmao. However, she does have assigned days off coming up, so on the weekend and those days off, my mum is here too. 

Are you a homebody?

Ohmygod yeah. The older I get, the more I dislike going out in general like. I work a full time job, I barely have time for chores or relaxation after, even now being work from home because scared patients asking you questions you can’t answer or don’t have an answer to (because no one has answers right now) just...idk how to explain it. But it gets weirdly exhausting, even though it sounds like it shouldn’t, and by the end of my 8 hours I just wanna lie on the floor and nap usually. So going out has never been my thing too much, because then my writing/chores/nap time gets neglected lol. I don’t mind the occasional appetizers and drinks night with mum and her friend, back when we could go out, but tbh it’s just nicer still to drink at home. Even on vacation, I go out more than usual, but also if there’s a night we can drink in the hotel with the mini bar, and just enjoy being somewhere other than home...I will take that night in a heartbeat. 

My anxiety also doesn’t love going out, but I’ve been working and getting better at dealing with that. Of course, current times might mean a bit of a setback, but I’m going to work really hard for it not to be too bad. I haven’t been in six years of therapy for nothing lol.

An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled?

Um...does my root canal count? And I wasn’t really looking forward to it per se, I just am afraid of the tooth getting worse and starting to have worse pain. 

Other than that, it hasn’t been cancelled yet because we’re playing it all by ear (but I admit I’m afraid it probably won’t happen due to the virus stuff, even if it’s over by the time this thing was supposed to happen), but I have a trip to New York City planned with a good friend in August. Even if things have calmed down, I know New York has gotten hit extremely hard, and if they’re still fighting with the aftereffects of it all...might not be fully open for business by August so to speak. And besides, with everything as it is right now, and the talk of a vaccine being at minimum over a year away, with periods of possible social distancing needed even if this calms down but possibly goes through flare ups until a vaccine is ready...travel might not be back to normal for awhile, I can’t say more than anyone else on that I suppose. I’d really like it to be, by August, I admit that as selfish as it is. I was just really looking forward to it, kind of living for it even, and now...yeah. 

But, better to be at home and healthy in the end, travel insurance exists for a reason, and trips can always be rescheduled. 

What movies have you watched recently?

Haunt (Mum and I never got to see it when it was in theaters), Queen Rock Montreal (my go to oh no I’m sad movie), Tammy (a fave of mum’s, and we both just like Melissa McCarthy in general), and Jojo Rabbit. I’ve got a bunch I bought and rented just last night too (maybe not a smart financial decision, but I’ll deal with that when I have to lmao), since it feels smart of have a backlog of stuff to watch right now.

What shows are you watching?

Mostly rewatching the IT Crowd, the Office, Travel Man, and other tried and true faves. It helps mum to relax since she loves all those too (including any episodes of 8 out of 9 Cats Does Countdown I can find, I finally got her hooked on that!) Basically if it has a chance of Richard Ayoade or enough episodes to keep us going for a bit, then it’s on the list to watch.

What music are you listening to?

So many. No, but legit, I’ve been all over on Spotify as of late, especially searching for music to help the fic writing. A lot of Queen, Elton, Clams Casino, The Weeknd, Kendrick Lamar, David Byrne, Childish Gambino, St. Vincent, and Moses Sumney especially.

What are you reading?

Fanfic, trusted news sources like AP, Reuters, updates from WHO, wanting to reread Mercury and Me and Elton John’s Me, and really need to get back into reading And The Band Played on by Randy Shilts (started it right as shit started to get wild, so it got put to the side, but I want to finish it asap.) 

What are you doing for self-care?

Trying to enjoy that this is also the trial time to see if I want to make work from permanent (work is making me make it a trial, I’ve wanted to work from home for years so...yes is the answer to that lol) and what I can do now that I’m home, like work more on my writing and music. Not to mention, eating foods that normally upset my stomach/I have sensitivities to like meat and dairy (I might be developing straight up allergies to them, but we all know I can’t afford to see an allergist lmao) but that since I’m safe at home where I be sick and still work...I can indulge. I can also play music more and movies so long as I pause them if I get a phone call during work hours, so overall I’ve been a lot more relaxed and my BP is down during work as a result, which is something I’ve never really felt before in my life, and I’m rather enjoying. 

Aside from that, video games have also made a resurgence in my life, especially Saints Row, and that’s been fun as well. 

All of this in between taking care of Mum of course, who worries and panics, and tends to believe everything she hears and reads and watches without thinking critically or carefully, so...that’s been a thing. 

Actual therapy appointments would be my best self care of course, but the last few have been cancelled due to everything going on. This week, however, my appointment is supposed to be done via telecommute and I should finally get to catch up with my doctor, which I admit I need pretty desperately right now. It’s getting hard feeling like I’m on my own, helping soothe others but struggling to soothe myself most of the time. But, c’est la vie, right?

Tagging (if y’all feel up to it and wanna!): @skylinepigeon, @freebooter4ever, @bearkare, @rathernotmyname, @galaxy-starheart, and @youdontrememberthesomme