#it's a little overworked but i was playing around with new tools

[bigautomaton]

And I, I don't think I've changed No and I'm too scared to stay the same So, my carpet's got crop circles My carpet's got crop circles these days

Crop Circles - Odie Leigh

[secret-subject]

Do You Ever Just Forget How To Do Hypnosis?

Not even joking. This isn't some sort of shit-post I promise, but sometimes with ADHD brain going brrrr I will get into my hypnosis thing whether it be a script or a live scene and my brian will just go:

"hey are you sure you actually remember how to do hypnosis?"

So the question is, how do we combat this feeling? Because let's be honest it's one that is not rational nor required when you are tisting on the regular and like me have a busy work schedule of giving people the hypnosis feels. (As a quick side note, in a scene with a trusted partner it would be hot af to have your ability to "fight back" with hypnosis taken away, especially if you were both switches with sticky fingers and brains, but I'm going to pocket that for another time...)

Step one: Take a break! I'm not even kidding. I know when my battery is dead energy wise I am more prone to this kind of thinking. Maybe you are tired or overworked as a dominant/top (the person doing the hypnosis doesn't always have to be dominant). I know people who can literally do scene after scene after scene, and that has never been me. I literally went three years without hypnotizing anyone outside of making audios and livestreaming, including my wife, because I was chronically ill and just worn down. You can't be a super tist if you aren't taking care of yourself. So, take a break. Look after yourself. If you aren't doing that it could be a sign that burnout is coming, or approaching and you need to protect yourself. Never be afraid to say "that's enough". Many times I've hit my limit not only long term but mid scene as a Domme. It's okay and it's very normal and I wish we spoke about it more.

Step two: Try something new! Sometimes, I get stuck in a rut of doing the same thing over and over. I love repetition and conditioning using it is fun but wow, it can get boring for everyone. So this feeling could be a sign it's time to read some smut, listen to some audios, read the blogs and try something new. It might not work, but it might also be the best thing you've ever done. Recently I also have been sending tiny audios to friends based on whims or ideas I've been thinking of. This is a great way to test something new, low stakes, and play around. I also recommend having people you can talk to. I love to befriend other hypnosis creators and community members because not only are they just "built different" and fun to be around but also I can hear them talk about their passions, which reignites mine and we can pool ideas.

Set three: Read some resources! Education is so important in this scene. Now that doesn't mean do what I did and go to a certifcation course, I don't think people outside of people wanting to be a professional hypnotist should do this. But it is important to refresh your knowledge and not be afraid to learn. Now I am an ex-teacher so I am biased as hell about the importance of education, but, it's not hard to upgrade your skills with a little education. Mind Play is a great book, I always recommend it for being simple to read. Go to a class at a convention or locally (they have them online too so you can access them even in places far away like New Zealand). Join a hypnosis discord with discussion rooms or groups. Talk to others about their experiences. Watch a YouTube video on hypnosis. Listen to podcasts about it. These are all educational tools for upgrading your skills and even if like me you've been doing this for an eternity (or what feels like it) you can still refresh your skills and maybe you might learn something that helps get you out of that funk.

So these are just some of the things that help when my brain decides to gaslight me into thinking I am terrible at this. I know this is never going to be one side fits all but I think it's important to talk about imposter syndrome from all sides of the watch.

Have you ever felt like this? And if so what did you do about it? I'd love to keep this conversation going!

-Secret

[eletricheart]

What was I made for?

(Donna Beneviento x Reader)

*image creds to owner

Word count: 928

Basically this song has been on my mind since watching Barbie, so I tried to make a story around the quote: " I don't know how to feel".

ps: theres a bit of angst, but happy ending

ps2: not proofread

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Donna believed you were the most gentle creature to have ever walked on this Earth. She adored your stories, your playdates with Angie, your patience, your kindness.

However, sometimes the dollmaker was certain you were dangerous. You made her happy, you made her want to be more than Lady of House Beneviento, and that was…confusing.

You were in another game of hide and seek, this time most of the dolls chose to participate which left you running around the house. Donna was having fun, at least at first, a call from Mother Miranda was enough to sour the entire day.

The dollmaker didn't enjoy producing anesthesia, especially knowing it's purpose, but she still rarely failed to comply, hence the fifteen minute long phone call complaining about her behavior. But that is what she was made for, what Miranda made her to be, so the Lady apologized and reassured the Priestess that it wouldn't happen again.

You noticed Donna's change of mood, momentarily stopping to play the game in order to check on her.

You walked over to her gently, but still made enough noise so as to not scare her. "Donna? Is everything alright?"

The woman gave you a tight nod, fidgeting her fingers, anxiously.

You sighed, slowly touching her arm. "How about we go around the garden? It's a lovely day and the little darlings are driving me insane."

She chuckled and agreed.

During the stroll, Donna's mind was still overworking, not even your inputs regarding the flowers could silence them.

She stopped abruptly, turning to see you through her veil. "You have to leave."

You opened and closed your mouth, not exactly knowing what to say. "I-I. Why? Did I do something wrong?"

The dollmaker took a deep breath, second thoughts mixed with fear were overwhelming the woman. "I was made to serve Mother Miranda, and only that. You're distracting me, so please leave."

Your eyebrows shot up in not only surprise but also confusion. "But we're friends." Your voice lowering at every letter.

"I don't have friends."

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Donna didn't hear from you for three months. Angie stopped asking after the second.

The air became suffocating in her territory, even Mother Miranda was having difficulties in staying for longer than 30 minutes. Alcina tried calling, so did Karl, both reached a dead end. The dollmaker had destroyed her phone around the first week without you.

The Lady still complied to the Priestess demands, this time arriving through letters.

Your life also wasn't that great, your time with Donna was the highlight of your days. Now you have to survive the village who was even more unfriendly since your connection to the Lady was now nonexistent.

You decided to try again after three months of no news. The Duke wasn't happy to enter the Beneviento territory, but you used some guilt trip techniques that Angie taught you.

Now, all you had to do was wait for the Duke to deliver your package, and hope she'd have you back.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Donna wanted to cry when she saw your gift. She was trying so hard to forget you, to paint you as a bad person, but here you were sending her a custom made tool box for her garden supplies.

Donna was scared, she wished to talk to you so badly. But what if she disappointed Mother Miranda again? What if you were disappointed in what she did?

After a week of over-thinking, the dollmaker finally sent you a gift back.

And that's what you both did for the next month, sometimes you were out of ideas and just sent her origami, when she was out of ideas (which was rare) she'd let Angie prepare the surprise (usually it blew up in your face).

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You were the one to visit, it started out slow, you didn't want to rush her.

Afternoon tea became dinner dates, sleepover was code for staying all day, and soon enough you were back to before it all ended. Of course you were afraid she'd kick out again, but the time you'd spend with her was worth the pain of potentially losing.

Neither you or Donna would bring up what happened, it was an unspoken agreement. Sometimes Angie would try to talk about it, but was quickly shut down with "it doesn't matter" or Donna walking away.

Occasionally you'd catch her staring at you, going back and forth between the decision of talking to you properly.

It was just another wednesday when she stopped you in the kitchen.

"I-I need to speak with you." Donna said with fidgeting fingers.

You took a deep breath. "Okay…"

She pulled the chair for you both to sit in front of each other. "Are we friends?"

You let a relieved breath. "Of course, I adore you."

She nodded slowly. "But what if…I don't want just that?"

Your eyes widened. "What do you want then?"

She lowered her head with a sigh. "I don't know. It's all so confusing."

You leaned forward to grasp her hands gently. "Is that why you asked me to leave?"

Donna was shaking when she gave you a tight nod. "I'm not supposed to feel this way. This isn't what I was made for."

You gave her a gentle smile. "You're made to be yourself, Donna. It's okay to not understand your feelings, I don't understand mine for most of the time. But I do know that I'm happy with you. And whatever choice you make, I'm here for you."

Donna nodded slowly. "I want to try…Will you help me?"

You smiled. "Always."

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masterlist

[babyhatesreality]

Hiya! I adored your latest work! Don’t worry about being rushing to get things out, it’s good not to push yourself too hard or overwork yourself! <3

If you’re still taking requests, what would Stucky be like if reader had to go to the doctor’s or dentist’s office for like checkup? (And/or what would reader be like too?)

Darling Nonnie!! Thank you so much for your kind words and encouragements!! You are so sweet and I appreciate you <3

I tried really hard to come up with a story here, but it hasn't come to me yet. Doesn't mean it won't, and if it does I triple pinky promise to write it all out for you. But in the meantime, here's some thoughts about what it would be like for Stucky to take Little to a checkup!

Even if it was just a run-of-the-mill wellness checkup with Uncle Bruce (who has his MD in my AU due to his own Littles and seeing the need amongst the Avengers Family), Papa would explain absolutely everything that would happen, or was happening, to you.

He remembers all too well his time with so many doctors in the 'old times' as you like to call them, both pre- and post-serum. Even though he trusts Bruce with his (and your) life, he still feels that you deserve the explanation of whatever is happening so you know exactly what's going on.

You would nod seriously and listen hard, because you always loved it when Papa explained things. You never got scared because Papa and Daddy were there.

Daddy was great about making you giggle and laugh during the whole thing. He would tell you made-up stories about all the people and the animals in the pictures on the walls of the colorful office, and you delighted in each new tale.

And since you were never scared at these visits, you were curious. Boy were you curious. The first couple times Bruce checked you out, your eyes looked like a cat's seeing a Christmas tree for the first time with every tool he used. You would try to grab every single instrument out of his hands in order to examine it yourself in wonder.

Papa and Daddy didn't let you get away with that- you got scolded more than a few times for it. But eventually Bruce just handed you the instrument first and let you examine it and play with it for a moment, before politely handing it back to him and sitting perfectly still for him to do whatever he needed to.

You sitting still had confounded Papa and Daddy at first. Bruce had shrugged with a grin, muttering that Pietro was the same way. "Let them get it out of their system, then they're good," he said, grinning at your stunned daddies.

Your favorite doctor toys (as you called them) were the otoscope (you loved the light that shined at the end of it and declared yourself an ear pirate since you were looking for treasure) and the stethoscope (Uncle Bruce let you listen to everyone's heartbeats, his included. You would concentrate so hard, your little tongue poking out of your mouth as you moved the diaphragm of the chest piece around, trying to find his or Papa's or Daddy's heartbeats. They could always tell the second you found it, because you would go perfectly still, your little mouth forming a round 'o' of wonder as you listened)

They all eventually began to love letting you *carefully* explore as Bruce checked you out.

If Uncle Bruce was busy, then Dr. Cho would check you out.

You didn't like this, because one time Dr. Cho had to give you a shot and you were never, ever, ever going to let THAT go.

If you had to visit Dr. Cho, you would only sit on Papa or Daddy's laps, holding their arms firmly around your waist, your eyes never leaving her. Every single move she made had you watching her like a hawk.

But she was always nice and polite, and other than that one time with the shot was super gentle. She would also let you pick out your own lollipop at the end, so maybe she wasn't all that bad. But you still weren't taking any chances.

Thank you!! <3 <3 <3 <3

[12freddofrogs]

Yep. It’s been almost a week now, and I am still thinking about all the implications of August’s backstory that have been revealed, implications that I don’t think Once Upon A Time is actually going to touch on.

He was seven years old. At a guess, actually. Did the Blue Fairy tell him he was? Did Geppetto intentionally carve a child to be seven – no, six years old? Did they just judge based on his height and maturity level how old he probably was and went from there? Pinocchio may have been younger. Probably older.

He was seven years old and alone in a new world. And unlike everyone else, he did not get any new memories.

Everyone in Storybrooke was given fake memories about who they were, were told that this is where they had always been. I assume even Regina got fake memories so she could understand what everyone else thought, and also understand what a car is, although she knew her memories were faked. Perhaps if we got a flashback to just as the curse was enacted, they would be more confused about the world around them, but at the same time everyone was equally confused.

August had a seven year old’s maturity, and could only have existed for a year or two prior to that (and I refuse to accept that the whale and everything else happened when he was five, so let’s say Geppetto just underestimated his age), and was left holding a newborn.

His name was Pinocchio. He didn’t get a new name when entering the world, he kept his old one. When the people at the diner called the police and the social workers about two very small children, lost and alone, he told them that his name was Pinocchio. That is a name that has implications. At best, it meant his parents liked the fairytale.

How long did it take before he found out that everyone already knew his name? Did the police woman say, “Like the puppet?” or was it not until he got to the foster home?

Did the first social worker, in those first few days before they found an emergency placement (because babies are hard to place and the seven year old refuses to be separated, and despite what Emma thought about Hansel and Gretel social services actually will do their best to keep siblings together), figure that little Pinocchio might like the fairytale he was named after and put the Disney movie on?  Hopefully, they didn’t have the DVD immediately available, and Pinocchio had already been exposed to the concept of a TV show first, because if the first movie he ever watched was his own life that would entirely break his idea of what TV was.

Pinocchio was a real boy. He’d be annoyed if someone made a reference to a puppet, and overall everyone’s main priority is making sure he and the baby are taken care of. So it wasn’t actually immediate that people realised little Pinocchio genuinely believed he used to be a puppet. The poor kid. Something must have happened to him that was so bad it broke him, that he completely repressed his real memories of how he came to be beside that highway and decided he was actually his favourite Disney movie.

The kid desperately needs therapy.

Pinocchio ran away.

He got caught again, only a few weeks later, but the old foster parents didn’t want any of the children who had left. He was too ashamed to ask for Emma, but the new foster parents weren’t prepared for an infant anyway. These parents were nicer, though. Still didn’t let him play with tools, but they let him play with Lego and they were building blocks that felt kind of like being back at his father’s workshop.

He was eight years old. He couldn’t take care of a baby, couldn’t take care of himself.

He went to therapy. People asked him why he thought he was Pinocchio, and he answered about his father and the Blue Fairy. He talked about the Evil Queen and her curse, but he didn’t really know the full details of it.

Some of the therapists indulged it, asked questions about the Enchanted Forest. Most of them didn’t, overworked and underpaid and part of social services, and told him – only sometimes gently – that magic wasn’t real. His father wasn’t Geppetto, he never spoke to a cricket or a fox or a cat, never was swallowed by a whale or almost turned into a donkey. One of the therapists got deeply interested when he mentioned being held in a cage, but she seemed to pull back a little when Pinocchio mentioned that Stromboni had threatened to cut him into firewood.

He was nine years old, ten years old, eleven. He’d worked out what a movie was, understood that most of them weren’t real. Some of the stories were familiar – he’d met Cinderella, had helped carve toys for her unborn child; Snow White once found him sneaking cookies from her kitchen and had distracted the chef so he wouldn’t be caught; Red Riding Hood had to babysit him once when his father and Jiminy had been called away. But the stories weren’t real, were they? He was on medications and therapy and was told day in and day out that fairies weren’t real.

How long did it take before a child, entirely alone in a different world and without any proof of his own, started to believe them?

He tried to check in on Emma as a teenager, but she’d been moved through too many other homes by then. Maybe he could have looked harder. He didn't.

He changed his name when he was ten years old, tired of everyone reacting to the word Pinocchio. He changed it again at eleven, and at twelve. He picked August Wood at fourteen, changed it again and then eventually came back.

He snuck out of curfew with no conscience on his shoulder. He took woodworking in school, got a job in fast foot specifically so he could afford to take weekly classes at the centre across the road.  

He spent his second pay cheque on a marionette puppet on a whim. It was plastic, not wood. He’d had the idea of learning to move it, but it creeped him out for reasons he couldn’t answer. He wanted to ask it questions, but the puppet never replied.

As a kid, Pinocchio had been aware that the puppets in his father’s workshop weren’t alive, in the puppet show with Stromboli. It had always given him an undefinable feeling that he’d never managed to articulate anyway, watching those faces stare down at him.

August kept the puppet locked in his closet.

He got his first girlfriend at fifteen years old. They dated for a few months, and it went well, until in a moment of vulnerability he confessed that as a kid he had been convinced he was actually Pinocchio. She had thought it was cute until she realised that part of him, buried deep, still kind of believed it.

August grew out of the foster care system. He made a half-hearted attempt to track Emma down, but she wouldn’t have recognised him. He wasn’t even sure if she was real, either, but the baby on the side of the highway, at least, he found articles on. He could confirm she was real. He remembered her mother, and couldn’t quite picture Snow White as anything but the Disney princess.

He went out on adventures. He went out whale watching, and tried to convince himself that the panic attack was seasickness. He got a cat that he named Figaro. He went to Disneyland and, twenty years old, cried on the Pinocchio ride as they went through his own childhood, through a movie that he had seen a thousand times. He went on it three more times that day.

It was a game to go to every Disneyland park in the world, now, so he did it. He liked travel, liked to see the world. Every single time, though, no matter who else he went with or the amount of rollercoasters they went on, he’d regularly touch at his ears, checking that they weren’t growing into donkey ears.

August said that he was a writer. That could have just been a cover, a reason for why he was there. I’d like to think it was real. He wrote poems about growing up differently, poems people assumed were metaphors about being carved out of wood.

He had a couple of kid’s books, aged ten and under, that actually sold okay. They weren’t about Pinocchio, but they were about kids who travelled from a magical world into the real world, and had to learn how to survive. That series ended with the kids getting back home, however, having saved the day.

He tried to look for his real parents, the ones who actually existed, not Geppetto. Maybe the image in his head of a kindly old man really was his father. Real people in real life knew how to carve.

If Geppetto didn't exist, that meant he'd never broken his promise, right?

August, Pinocchio, was a child left alone in a world that told him his memories couldn’t be real. He learned to lie about them, keep himself away from questions, cut down his childhood into the parts that people believed, about carving toys and playing games. Part of him genuinely stopped believing, and part of him just learned to lie.

And then one morning, in Phuket, Pinocchio woke at 8.15 am to find that three of his toes had turned back to wood. The doctors couldn’t even see it, but an X-ray revealed something was very, very wrong. His toes looked normal to the naked eye, but there didn’t seem to be any bones in there. He got sent for more tests.

August didn’t take them. He fled the hospital instead. He returned to his hotel room, panicked but not actually being chased, and threw his medication in the bin.

It was real. He was really Pinocchio.

Be honest, brave, and unselfish and you will always be a real boy.

He’d broken the Blue Fairy’s promise, and the spell was breaking.

It took over a day for August to realise the real problem.

He couldn’t move his toes.  

Geppetto was a master craftsman, and had put all his effort into it. Pinocchio had been carved with fully articulated joints, including the ones under his shoes. The toes still bent when August picked them up by hand, but he couldn’t move them consciously.

He stabbed his foot with a knife, peeled off chips of wood.

It was years ago, but August remembered that in the Enchanted Forest, he had felt pain. Not in the same way as he had as a real boy, but he felt it. He used to be able to feel things through his wood.

Magic didn’t work in this land, though. He wasn’t turning back into an enchanted puppet. Just a puppet. An actual, lifeless piece of wood. Piece by piece, his body was breaking down.

Storybrooke wasn’t that well hidden, honestly. It was easy to find once you knew what to look for.

He recognised people. He saw Geppetto walking down the street and froze. He actually didn’t recognise Archie until they’d already started up a conversation in Granny’s diner and nearly choked on his lunch. He worked out who the Blue Fairy was, and went to ask her for advice.

He hadn’t known what Emma grew up to look like, but he’d recognised her anyway from the moment he walked in.

-------- I mean, I'm only a single season in, but even if his backstory is given more detail, they're not going to actually explain every day of those twenty-eight years. He's been existing in the real world without the Enchanted Forest. Regardless of what else we find out about him, OUAT is probably not going to say that he didn't go to every Disneyland.

[nicascurls]

More Future Jevon and their kids.

I kind wanted to give a brief explanation on their kids, they have three in total. Riley, Rory and Renee.

Renee is the youngest, about 6-7 years old. All of the kids are African-American, but mixed. But Riley’s the only one who actually looks like she’s mixed.

Renee has brown 4c hair that is constantly in afro puffs and brown eyes, and she has dimples (gets it from Jake). She’s an absolute sweetheart to Riley and Lexy and Devon, but is an absolute MENACE to Jake. I’m talking about bro has bite marks and scratch marks lining up and down his arm (That is also from Rory too) and she almost never listens to him, and has even flipped him off at one point.

I feel like Devon has 4C hair when he lets his hair go out so yeah.

Rory is not really much better. He’s 14, 5’4 and stands about 158 pounds. He also has curly hair, and brown eyes, and is an inventor. Thus, his hands are constantly charred, which is why he wears these brown orange-ish gloves to hide them, and constantly has a tool belts around his waist. He’s constantly taking things apart to make things new, like robots or inventions since Rory is a huge nerd about robotics. He’s also a pretty good artist. He has insomnia and depression, as well as a history of sh that he’s fortunately recovered for but he keeps razors under his best as a last resort thing.

He’s pretty petty, temperamental, aggressive (much like his dad) and has anger issues. He also has an oral fixation, which is why Jake’s arms are completely covered in bite marks from him and Renee. Devon has an oral fixation too, but mostly deals with it by chewing on his sleeves or plastic spoons and forks.

Rory’s also pretty sensitive, and antisocial. And much like Jake, he’s bullied by Lexy’s little cousin, Ian. Or Wannabe Draco Malfoy, what Rory calls him. But Rory is also a nice person, if you get to know him. He doesn’t always appear friendly and a bit intimidating, but he’s pretty much the nicest asshole you could ever meet. And is pretty protective over his friends and family, but easily manipulated by people he trusts. He’s also interested in weird things and the unknown, also researching the Hackensack Massacre and all that, and can get pretty obsessive when he’s in love. Sometimes, it makes him do insane ass shit.

Now Riley, Riley is the town’s cutest girl. Rejects confessions about 10x a day. And has won Cotillion Queen about three times. She’s a perfectionist, a feminist and about as temperamental as they come. She’s a sweet girl who gets good grades and plays the piano, until someone disrespects her. That’s when she blows her fuse.

She personally loves shopping and getting new clothes, and all that stuff. She also loves poetry and is responsible for making sure Rory overwork himself to death. She has seen Rory just go off of monster alone for a whole month, and Devon has never been more impressed and terrified.

She hangs around with Lexy a lot, but hates her cousin. Lexy tries to get him to actually stop bullying Rory, but Ian’s stepdad’s teachings still haven’t left him. He solely bullies Rory for the fact that he’s gay, and rarely respects him. He only respects him for his abilities, and they’re kinda like academic rivals. Ian is on the student council, he’s the president and Rory is the president of the robotics club.

Riley likes tea and vanilla ice cream, and is the only person who is in a straight relationship in that household. She’s bi, but she has a boyfriend named Marcus who’s straight, not always has the right spirit but supports.

Now Ian…is a whole different can of worms. Rory and Devon are absolutely sure he is sadistic in some way or form. He has short blonde hair, and brown eyes, something he gets from his biological dad. His mom was a drug addict, and married his stepdad. Who is just about as Christian and strict as they come.

Ian channels this by bullying Rory, someone his father as taught him to hate but he doesn’t necessarily hate his parents though, but Ian doesn’t like to question himself. He’ll go as far as target Rory by spreading rumors, embarrassing him, social media is his best friend and has made Rory delete his social media accounts so many times.

He’s pretty much the 14-year-old version of Lexy Cross, and Lexy has repeatedly held back from actually harming him because that’s how much of an asshole Ian is.

Devon doesn’t even like him, nor does Renee. And that says something since Renee is almost friendly to everyone, except for Jake. Ian is also 14-15 and is around 120 pounds, and has BPD. But no one at his school knows that, no one except Lexy knows that and no matter how mad she gets at him, that secret will go to her grave.

Yes! I love all of this!

[deceptive-daydreams]

whyyyy are you doing this to meee this is the dream!!! the idea of him seeing you try to pay for something and being like "absolutely not" and swooping in cause his baby doesn't pay for a thing??? THROW ME OUT A WINDOW. I got so carried away by this.

i can see like early on in the relationship you haven't moved in with him yet and still live in a little apartment in a shitty part of town and he swears you are the one like has never felt this way about anyone before but he really tries to refrain from suffocating you with his love because he doesn't wanna scare you away. As the relationship grows he hangs out at your apartment in the evenings when you come home from work exhausted and he just loves on you and gets you takeout cause you're so tired and life has just been stressing you out with all the bills and living paycheck to paycheck. He knows that struggle all too well from his upbringing and he can't stand seeing you suffer that way cause you're his baby and you deserve to be spoiled and treated like royalty.

You've been to his house before however you dont get to go over there a lot because of how much you're working but lets just say its fucking nice. It's not super big but its so homey and also screams eddie with the metal posters everywhere and guitars and such. He even has a little pool and a hot tub that you never get to enjoy with him because of how busy you are. He can't take it anymore, he feels like you're so beyond overworked and he will not have it.

One night you're laying in your bed with him complaining about work and all the bullshit thats been happening lately and hes just playing with your fingers, putting his rings on yours and then back on his, just back and forth fidgeting cause hes nervous to ask his question. As you're wrapping up a story from another shitty work situation you're like "that's so fucked up, right!? i've been keeping an eye out for a new job though so hopefully-" and he cuts you off cause no, you won't be getting a new job that will only stress you out, not if he can help it. "Move in with me." he says suddenly. You just turn to look at him like he's insane and before you can protest he's like "no, I'm serious. Move in with me. Let me take care of you, I can't watch you do this anymore." He's super sincere about it and his eyes are all big and pleading. You go on to tell him that you can't do that, you need to make it on your own and it lowkey turns into a fight. You're telling him that you're not going to rely on a man for your wellbeing and saying stuff like "do you think that lowly of me?!" and this is not how it was supposed to go, he just genuinely wants to see you happy and doing all the things you want to do that you never have time for because you're working.

He cups your cheeks in his hands and is like "baby, I think so highly of you, I just wanna give you the world. Please let me. Let me give you all the things I never imagined I'd ever be able to." You still get defensive about it cause he's not just asking you to move in, he's asking you to quit your job and basically run away from your current life which....that's not so bad cause your current life is shit but its also so scary because its the only normal you know so how could you just up and leave it?? You turn him down and let him know that you just can't and he respects your boundaries so after that he leaves it. He still hates how miserable you are but he still wants to be there for you as much as he can. It fucking sucks cause when your car starts acting up he just wants to take it in and get it fixed cause there would literally be no financial burden on him but for you, it would cost like months of rent. To work around it, he says he'll fix it cause he has so much experience with cars and even works on his own all the time. He has it towed to his house where he can use all his tools and stuff in his garage and while he could secretly just take it in somewhere to have it fixed, he doesn't want to upset you if you found out cause he knows you would try to pay him back and he knows you'd find a way to see how much it costs and it would just add to your stress. He doesn't mind doing it himself anyway, its therapeutic so he has it up and running again in a few days.

He loves that you're so independent but it doesn't change that he just wants to shower you with everything you could ever deserve. One day he waits for you at your apartment to come home from work, he has a key and everything and he's setting up a little after work dinner date, nothing too crazy but he brought over an expensive wine for you to try and he can't cook for shit but he's trying to learn so he makes spaghetti and meatballs for you. When you step in the door, he's all excited and running toward the door to greet you, the room actually smells really good and he even threw together some garlic bread and he's super proud of himself and he's excited to see your reaction. Only when he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks because there are tears and mascara streaming down your face and you have one of those frowns that you get when you're trying not to cry but the tears are stinging your eyes. He gathers that you cried all the way home and are trying to hold it together in front of him. He just rushes over and scoops you up to hold you on the couch in his lap and you can't contain the tears anymore, you just start sobbing into his chest while he rubs your back and soothes you. "I've got you, I'm right here." He doesn't even ask for an explanation, he's just there for you and he hopes that when you're ready, you'll tell him but if not, that's okay too.

You're still full on crying, snot and all when you pull back to tell him through a wobbling voice and sniffles "I-I can't do it anymore." And he has an idea of what you're referring to but he just nods with sympathy in his eyes. "Life sucks s-so bad. Don't wanna do it anymore." You would be hiccupping and getting yourself really worked up like almost not breathing. He would shush you gently and cradle your jaw in his hand, the tears slipping down into his hand and say "Baby, you need to breathe, okay? Gonna make yourself sick." and he would help you with little breathing exercises to kinda calm your nervous system. It would work a little but you're still super upset. He sparks an idea and if you yell at him again then so be it cause he just wants his baby to enjoy life and not come home crying more often than not. He would pull your head into his chest again and just whisper "Come live with me. Please. You can quit this job, find something new that you actually like." He tries to reason with you because he knows from last time that you would absolutely not just up and leave without any plans to help pay for things even though he won't allow it. "Eddie, I can't do that to you, I don't know how long it'll take me to find something decent." You would tell him sadly although its a much different reaction than last time because it sounds like you might be on board in some way if you could work things out how you needed. "Sweets, I can't watch you do this anymore. I'd much rather you quit and take some time to find something you actually love than stay here and be sad every day. Come stay with me, you don't even have to get rid of your apartment if you don't want to but just come stay with me and decompress. Let me spoil you a little bit while you figure it out. That's all I want." He sounds so genuine and is talking so softly its making you melt.

Eventually you work out a little deal where you'll stay at his house and search for work in the area. You use up the remaining money you have to keep paying rent on your apartment that you don't even use anymore. Secretly Eddie goes to the leasing office and pays off like a year's worth of rent and gives you your money back. "What this for?" you would ask as you looked at job listings while lounging around at his kitchen counter. He'd just shrug and kiss your cheek. "Don't worry about it." But you will most definitely worry about it. You get heated again and finally pull the information out of him and he admits that he got your money back and paid off a year for your apartment so you wouldn't have to give it up should you decide you don't want to stay with him permanently. It's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for you but you come at it raging because he shouldn't have to do this. You're trying to argue with him but he just grabs your hands calmly and is like "Listen. I had nothing growing up, I lived in a trailer park in the middle of nowhere." You're not really sure why he's going into this, you knew this from all the late night talks where you'd just lay in bed when neither of you could sleep. "I always had to decide if I wanted to eat or if I wanted to keep the lights on. And I'll be damned if I let you go through that or anything similar to that. I don't wanna spend my money on fancy designer shit or brand new cars. I want to spend it on you and making you comfortable and happy because now I can. I never thought I'd be able to do that for someone but I can now and you're my girl. Let me take care of you in the ways I never even dreamed I'd be able to take care of someone." You start crying again because what the fuck no one has ever been so sweet in your entire life and you're like what did I do to deserve this???

He's there wiping the tears away and nudging his nose against yours. You still don't want to give in but he's so damn sweet and he's being so vulnerable with you, this is something so personal to him. "I'm still getting a job and paying my half." You choke out. He just agrees because it'll make you happy but little do you know that whenever you give him any money he puts it aside in its own account for you. You end up working at a little flower shop and its beautiful, you get to be creative and you aren't stressed beyond your limits every single day. He visually sees that you're happier and you have this glow to you. One day you're both on his couch after he came home from a recording session and you worked late at the flower shop because you'd been working on some arrangements for a big event. You're both so tired and snuggly just watching some stupid movie while snacking. He's got you in between his legs and his thumb is stroking your hip, you both forget about the movie and just start talking about endless things. It comes up that you'd like to start your own little business some day, possibly your own flower shop that also sells cute little things from other small businesses (like soaps, art, etc.). Maybe even have a little coffee bar in it. He sees the way your eyes light up and he just smiles so softly down at you. He puts you both in a position where you're sitting criss cross in front of him and he's doing the same in front of you. "Let's do it then." he says like its the most obvious thing in the world. You scoff cause you don't have even a fraction of the money saved to start a business.

He pulls up a banking app on his phone and starts tapping his fingers away before setting the phone in your hands. You look at it all confused and he's just staring at you all dopey and cute but you have no idea why. He blurts out "It's yours. Every penny you've given me to cover bills. I put it away for you." You gasp when you realize how much money has built up in the account. You want to scream at him but you also know that he didn't do it against his will, he did it because he wanted to, he never does anything he doesn't want to. He's super stubborn even when it comes to his record label trying to tell him what to do. Again, the waterworks start and you collapse into him. He starts telling you "I know you don't like that I do things like this but you're my girl and I can't help it." He would press a kiss to the top of your head and you would pull back to look up at him and just grab him by his shirt so you could kiss him with so much emotion. That night you just make love to each other for hours, you can't keep your hands off each other. You don't know it but he's also planning on buying you a ring really soon and he's going to buy the one that he's seen you stare out when you've been out with him. It's a simple ring that's more dainty than anything and it doesn't even cost a lot, he just sees the way your eyes grow every time you pass that same shop and see it in the window and he knows that he's going to get it for you.

After that night you have less trouble letting him do things for you. Obviously you avoid it if you can but you don't scold him every time he slides his credit card over to pay for things or when you find out he's paid off a loan you had taken out a long time ago for that time you went to cosmetology school a few years ago that didn't end up working out. Suddenly the balance is zero and when you call to clear it up they tell you its been paid off. You make sure to give him the best head of his life but then also complain a little because you feel guilty that he took care of it. He shushes you by shoving his face in between your legs.

Idk why but my mind suddenly thought of the idea of sugar daddy!rockstar!Eddie and now its all just brainrot

[kklockworkalien]

you know what time it is!! heisenberg [+some wintersberg] headcannons!!

-adhd karl 🛐🛐 mans either has too much energy and is bouncing off the walls or zones out at the wall for 3 hours. no in between. his executive disfunction makes him SO mad cos he wants to work SO badly but he CANT

-when he’s feeling very strong emotions he unintentionally makes scrap/metal float around, if hes having a panic attack/ breakdown metal goes flying around him like a tornado to prevent people getting close to him as he hates the idea of people seeing him as weak

-as stated in my previous hcs, hes not been outside of the village, so ethan gets the brilliant idea of taking him to a diy shop!! and omg this man. hes like a golden retriever the MOMENT he enters the shop,, running down the aisles looking at all the sheets of metal and tools, clinging to ethan going ‘PLEAAAASEE buy me some pls come on darlin pls i need !!! i need all of it pls’ and ethans forced to incline. he probably floats large expensive things out the door and collects them on the way out anyway. heisenberg says steal from the rich 🤌🤌🤌

-doesnt really have a set genre of music he listens to, but likes classic rock and southern music the best,

-to link with the previous hc, he makes a little radio on wheels so he always has music with him around the factory, he loves singing as he works as it helps him to concentrate

-when he wants to show off and look nice for ethan he asks donna to make him some new clothes, she makes wonderful satin suits and funky capes for him

-biggest softy for animals, especially puppies, always stops in the street to give a wee puppy or cat a chin scratch :}

-not great at comforting people as he doesnt really know how to cheer himself up tbh, but he will sit and listen to someone if theyre down

-he knows a spot in the village where you can see shooting stars every year at a specific time, luckily ethans not busy that night, karl takes him there and they have a little picnic and watch the stars go past all night

-walking radiator. this man is always warm. when its winter it snows very heavily in the village and karl insists on letting ethan wear his coat, wether its more of a showing off thing or a concern for ethans health is up for you to decide

-he likes to have everything up to date and working, with all the work in the factory it makes it hard for him to rest as hes always busy, leading him to be exhausted most of the time, falling asleep while operating dangerous machinery, knocking things over ect ect, ethan has to practically drag him to bed most days so he doesnt overwork himself, karl doesn’t understand why hes so worried because hes so tired he doesnt realise what hes doing

-he likes to have ethan or rose with him while hes planning or drawing up new ideas and inventions to keep him company, sometimes they help him too!

-treats rose like a princess, always protecting her, getting her all the gifts she wants, making her things, he wants to make sire she gets all the love he never got as a child

-tends to have nightmares from mother miranda experimenting on him as a child, if its not to bad he just wakes up shaking and cuddles up to ethan, but it can get really bad, and he bolts up full blown panic attack and sobbing, ethan has to hug him and play with his hair to calm him down, he always ends up really groggy and sad afterwards so ethan spends the day with him trying to cheer him up :}

-covered in scars from lycans, mirandas experiments or just being clumsy at work, he used to be quite insecure about them but now things they’re quite beautiful <33

[taiyakiiwrites]

— pouty todoroki hcs

requested by @sturfryhoodie

pairing(s): shoto todoroki x gn!reader

summary: “How about Some pouty todoroki head cannons, like what he does when he’s pouting, like his little habits, and what things make him pout that sorta thing // I rly like the thought of him being angry at u but not actually angry lol”

content: pouty shoto and fun times, what else can i say?

notes: pouty todoroki makes my heart just ✨✨ of course!! and since this is just one character, i’ll throw in a lil drabble as a treat ;)) (also sorry that your username isn’t showin up as tagged! i tried to fix it multiple times and it still isn’t workin ;-;)

⇉ requests are open!! || masterlist || rules

todoroki, this poor child, has been starved of any sort of attention—the only time people did look his way was when they talked about his father and/or his potential as a hero

so, when you guys started to hang out and you actually saw him as a person and not just a tool trained to serve society for life, something in him just flips

this man has had a taste of affection and he is not letting go

so, days with shoto around are usually filled with him trying his best to make conversation (you’re more than happy to oblige) and trying to do any sort of activity with you

side note: he likes learning about your interests—when you do so, he feels like he’s learning more about what makes you you! so feel free to play any video games, read any books, etc, with him!

now, back to our regularly scheduled programming:

if it’s been a solid 30 minutes with you not around or hanging out with someone else, pouty mode is activated

how dare you be capable of giving attention and love to others, yet refuse to give it to him every single moment that you can /j

he’s fine with you hanging with other people of course, but his clingy-ness is something that needs to be regularly taken care of

he needs to be watered like a plant with your attention

can and will walk through the entire dorm building to find his favorite person (yes, this is including all might, i know-)

once he does, he’ll just,, stare at you until he catches your eye

help him

you look up from your phone or book, hearing someone show up, or take a moment to look away from your friends, and spot him

it’s Go Time™️

just walks over and put his chin on the top of your head or shoulder, maybe fiddles with your hands

any of the small touches he can give and/or get is just 😤👌✨

he lives for it, especially if he’s in this sort of mood

it doesn’t matter if others are around; you are here with him and that is all he cares about

you notice his pout as well and lightly chuckle: “you okay there, sho?”

he just mumbles incoherent words and buried his face in your hair or the crook of your neck. you, of course, laugh again and start to play with his hair (doing so will get him to hum happily to himself and i just- hhhhhh)

other things that make him pout!!

overworking yourself in training: he doesn’t like seeing you pushing yourself just to “improve.�� even if you’re falling behind in class, he knows it’s unhealthy (well, now he does—have you seen this man?)

not taking care of yourself in general: he doesn’t care what excuses you have: he will do his best to help you get onto your feet. someone as amazing as you deserves it!!

and a huge one

*insert suspense noise*

not sharing snacks

give the man the slice of pie (the minute you give him one though, he’ll forget about it and be a content lil cat)

you were chatting with a couple of your friends: izuku, iida, tsuyu, and ochako, having a couple laughs here and there after denki’s failed attempt to prank bakugo. the two of them were long gone, having spiraled into a fit of chasing and yelling.

“oh, by the way,” izuku spoke up. “where’s shoto?”

the group exchanged a couple glances, new founded confusion now on all of their faces. “last time i saw him, he was in the kitchen?” you mentioned.

“well then, he should be fine!” tsuyu replied with a ribbit. you had no reason to disagree with her, shrugging the situation off your shoulders. because of this, you didn’t notice the footsteps slowly headed in your direction.

shoto’s eyes were fixed on you, his lips in a small pout. he didn’t bother to push the hair in his face out of the way. instead of walking all the way towards you, he merely stood still after a few more paces.

it took a couple minutes—his perseverance was somewhat admirable—for you to turn his way, merely looking around the room trying to remember a topic you wanted to bring up. “oh, shoto!” you called out once meeting his eyes.

his ears perked up, then finally walked over. not even sparing a glance at the others around, he threw his arms over your shoulders and relaxed his chin onto the top of your head; he huffed.

unlike the surprised eyes around you, yours stayed half-lidded. you were fairly used to shoto’s antics, and the fact that you only hadn’t talked to him in around twenty minutes popped into your crowd of thoughts. you chuckled.

you raised a hand and ran it through his hair. “are you okay?” you teased him.

he muttered something along the lines of “couldn’t find you” and “why are you hanging out without me?”—you couldn’t hear the rest.

you sighed and scratched his scalp; you could feel him relax above you. “i’m sorry,” you replied, “but, i’m here now! we can hang out as much as you want.” shoto was too far gone from your small touches to speak back.

ochako squealed, breaking the silence that covered the room for a second. apparently, everyone was too busy admiring you and shoto’s exchange of affection. “that is too cute,” she chimed, putting a hand on her cheek. it seemed like the rest of the group agreed with her, all of them smiling at you two.

you rolled your eyes. “oh, quit it,” you hushed…

but the smile and blush on your face said that you really didn’t mind.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Machine learning's crumbling foundations

Technological debt is insidious, a kind of socio-infrastructural subprime crisis that’s unfolding around us in slow motion. Our digital infrastructure is built atop layers and layers and layers of code that’s insecure due to a combination of bad practices and bad frameworks.

Even people who write secure code import insecure libraries, or plug it into insecure authorization systems or databases. Like asbestos in the walls, this cruft has been fragmenting, drifting into our air a crumb at a time.

We ignored these, treating them as containable, little breaches and now the walls are rupturing and choking clouds of toxic waste are everywhere.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/27/gas-on-the-fire/#a-safe-place-for-dangerous-ideas

The infosec apocalypse was decades in the making. The machine learning apocalypse, on the other hand…

ML has serious, institutional problems, the kind of thing you’d expect in a nascent discipline, which you’d hope would be worked out before it went into wide deployment.

ML is rife with all forms of statistical malpractice — AND it’s being used for high-speed, high-stakes automated classification and decision-making, as if it was a proven science whose professional ethos had the sober gravitas you’d expect from, say, civil engineering.

Civil engineers spend a lot of time making sure the buildings and bridges they design don’t kill the people who use them. Machine learning?

Hundreds of ML teams built models to automate covid detection, and every single one was useless or worse.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/02/autoquack/#gigo

The ML models failed due to failure to observe basic statistical rigor. One common failure mode?

Treating data that was known to be of poor quality as if it was reliable because good data was not available.

Obtaining good data and/or cleaning up bad data is tedious, repetitive grunt-work. It’s unglamorous, time-consuming, and low-waged. Cleaning data is the equivalent of sterilizing surgical implements — vital, high-skilled, and invisible unless someone fails to do it.

It’s work performed by anonymous, low-waged adjuncts to the surgeon, who is the star of the show and who gets credit for the success of the operation.

The title of a Google Research team (Nithya Sambasivan et al) paper published in ACM CHI beautifully summarizes how this is playing out in ML: “Everyone wants to do the model work, not the data work: Data Cascades in High-Stakes AI,”

https://storage.googleapis.com/pub-tools-public-publication-data/pdf/0d556e45afc54afeb2eb6b51a9bc1827b9961ff4.pdf

The paper analyzes ML failures from a cross-section of high-stakes projects (health diagnostics, anti-poaching, etc) in East Africa, West Africa and India. They trace the failures of these projects to data-quality, and drill into the factors that caused the data problems.

The failures stem from a variety of causes. First, data-gathering and cleaning are low-waged, invisible, and thankless work. Front-line workers who produce the data — like medical professionals who have to do extra data-entry — are not compensated for extra work.

Often, no one even bothers to explain what the work is for. Some of the data-cleaning workers are atomized pieceworkers, such as those who work for Amazon’s Mechanical Turk, who lack both the context in which the data was gathered and the context for how it will be used.

This data is passed to model-builders, who lack related domain expertise. The hastily labeled X-ray of a broken bone, annotated by an unregarded and overworked radiologist, is passed onto a data-scientist who knows nothing about broken bones and can’t assess the labels.

This is an age-old problem in automation, pre-dating computer science and even computers. The “scientific management” craze that started in the 1880s saw technicians observing skilled workers with stopwatches and clipboards, then restructuring the workers’ jobs by fiat.

Rather than engaging in the anthropological work that Clifford Geertz called “thick description,” the management “scientists” discarded workers’ qualitative experience, then treated their own assessments as quantitative and thus empirical.

http://hypergeertz.jku.at/GeertzTexts/Thick_Description.htm

How long a task takes is empirical, but what you call a “task” is subjective. Computer scientists take quantitative measurements, but decide what to measure on the basis of subjective judgment. This empiricism-washing sleight of hand is endemic to ML’s claims of neutrality.

In the early 2000s, there was a movement to produce tools and training that would let domain experts produce their own tools — rather than delivering “requirements” to a programmer, a bookstore clerk or nurse or librarian could just make their own tools using Visual Basic.

This was the radical humanist version of “learn to code” — a call to seize the means of computation and program, rather than being programmed. Over time, it was watered down, and today it lives on as a weak call for domain experts to be included in production.

The disdain for the qualitative expertise of domain experts who produce data is a well-understood guilty secret within ML circles, embodied in Frederick Jelinek’s ironic talk, “Every time I fire a linguist, the performance of the speech recognizer goes up.”

But a thick understanding of context is vital to improving data-quality. Take the American “voting wars,” where GOP-affiliated vendors are brought in to purge voting rolls of duplicate entries — people who are registered to vote in more than one place.

These tools have a 99% false-positive rate.

Ninety. Nine. Percent.

To understand how they go so terribly wrong, you need a thick understanding of the context in which the data they analyze is produced.

https://5harad.com/papers/1p1v.pdf

The core assumption of these tools is that two people with the same name and date of birth are probably the same person.

But guess what month people named “June” are likely to be born in? Guess what birthday is shared by many people named “Noel” or “Carol”?

Many states represent unknown birthdays as “January 1,” or “January 1, 1901.” If you find someone on a voter roll whose birthday is represented as 1/1, you have no idea what their birthday is, and they almost certainly don’t share a birthday with other 1/1s.

But false positives aren’t evenly distributed. Ethnic groups whose surnames were assigned in recent history for tax-collection purposes (Ashkenazi Jews, Han Chinese, Koreans, etc) have a relatively small pool of surnames and a slightly larger pool of first names.

This is likewise true of the descendants of colonized and enslaved people, whose surnames were assigned to them for administrative purposes and see a high degree of overlap. When you see two voter rolls with a Juan Gomez born on Jan 1, you need to apply thick analysis.

Unless, of course, you don’t care about purging the people who are most likely to face structural impediments to voter registration (such as no local DMV office) and who are also likely to be racialized (for example, migrants whose names were changed at Ellis Island).

ML practitioners don’t merely use poor quality data when good quality data isn’t available — they also use the poor quality data to assess the resulting models. When you train an ML model, you hold back some of the training data for assessment purposes.

So maybe you start with 10,000 eye scans labeled for the presence of eye disease. You train your model with 9,000 scans and then ask the model to assess the remaining 1,000 scans to see whether it can make accurate classifications.

But if the data is no good, the assessment is also no good. As the paper’s authors put it, it’s important to “catch[] data errors using mechanisms specific to data validation, instead of using model performance as a proxy for data quality.”

ML practitioners studied for the paper — practitioners engaged in “high-stakes” model building reported that they had to gather their own data for their models through field partners, “a task which many admitted to being unprepared for.”

High-stakes ML work has inherited a host of sloppy practices from ad-tech, where ML saw its first boom. Ad-tech aims for “70–75% accuracy.”

That may be fine if you’re deciding whether to show someone an ad, but it’s a very different matter if you’re deciding whether someone needs treatment for an eye-disease that, untreated, will result in irreversible total blindness.

Even when models are useful at classifying input produced under present-day lab conditions, those conditions are subject to several kinds of “drift.”

For example, “hardware drift,” where models trained on images from pristine new cameras are asked to assess images produced by cameras from field clinics, where lenses are impossible to keep clean (see also “environmental drift” and “human drift”).

Bad data makes bad models. Bad models instruct people to make ineffective or harmful interventions. Those bad interventions produce more bad data, which is fed into more bad models — it’s a “data-cascade.”

GIGO — Garbage In, Garbage Out — was already a bedrock of statistical practice before the term was coined in 1957. Statistical analysis and inference cannot proceed from bad data.

Producing good data and validating data-sets are the kind of unsexy, undercompensated maintenance work that all infrastructure requires — and, as with other kinds of infrastructure, it is undervalued by journals, academic departments, funders, corporations and governments.

But all technological debts accrue punitive interest. The decision to operate on bad data because good data is in short supply isn’t like looking for your car-keys under the lamp-post — it’s like driving with untrustworthy brakes and a dirty windscreen.

Image: Seydelmann (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:GW300_1.jpg

CC BY-SA: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[iamdeku]

Strictly Business: ProHero!Deku x Reader

Pro hero!Izuku meeting his new personal assistant who is nervous and had previous terrible experiences with Proheros who treated her like a tool. (Reader is female) 

This was a really fun request to do! I loved the idea for this and definitely got a little carried away with the word count, haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault. Bad bosses. I did not proofread.

You had been nervous when you had started working for the #1 hero. You had worked hard to get here, but it had been a long road, and it hadn’t always been fun. In fact, up until now it had been terrible. When you walked into Deku’s office, you were seriously thinking about undoing years of work and changing your career path entirely.

Your dream had been to work with heroes. Not be harassed by them.

You first job had also been your first mistake. You should have known better than to work with the Fresh-Picked hero, Grape Juice, but you were new to the industry and no one had warned you off. So you became a personal assistant to your sleaziest boss to date.

Mineta had done his best to ruin your life. He sexually harassed you at ever turn, abused his power, kept you after hours and made you do ridiculous things. When you finally gathered the courage to quit, you never looked back.

When you were looking for your next job, you decided it was better to go with an established hero, one who had been in the game a long time. Endeavor, as the former #1 hero, seemed like a solid, safe choice. You were so wrong.

You worked for Endeavor for years, unwilling to quit the paycheck, but the experience was awful. Endeavor was arrogant, with a terrible temper and a hefty helping of sexism. By the time you were in a financially stable enough place to quit that job, you had lost all faith in the heroes around you.

So now, starting your first day working for Deku, you were prepared for the worst. You were sure you were about to be introduced to some fresh torture, but you were ready for whatever he would level at you. Heroes could sink no lower in your eyes.

So naturally, you were surprised on your first day when he seemed…nice. Sweet even.

You knocked on his office door, a combination of dread and resignation swirling in your stomach. You expected a wait, but he answered it almost immediately.

“Hi! You’re my new personal assistant, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m sorry I wasn’t at your interview. I meant to be there but there was a crisis downtown I got called in for. I hope you got the gift basket I sent to your house to apologize. I really am so sorry, it’s terrible policy not to have met you before now.”

You had gotten that gift basket, actually, but you hadn’t thought he was aware of it. You definitely hadn’t thought it was his idea, but from the sounds of his speech it definitely had been. You blinked at him a couple of times, trying to gather your wits after that rapid speech.

“Yes,” you said. “I’m your new personal assistant. It’s very nice to meet you. What can I do for you today sir?”

He seemed confused, as though he hadn’t expected a personal assistant to be ready to work. That couldn’t be right though. He was an experienced pro.

“Didn’t they tell you when you got here? I thought we could start with lunch together, so I can get to know you since I missed your interview. I’m sorry, I should have sent you an email.”

Your heart sank at his words, all of your hopes for his kindness to be genuine crashing with it. So, it was to be the hopelessly flirtatious boss who thought you existed to fulfill his fantasies again. You had seen that before.

“I’m really not sure that would be wise, sir. I like to maintain a strict level of professionalism,” you said, making your refusal as polite as you could.

He blinked, as though it hadn’t even occurred to him that might not be professional.

“Oh. I suppose you have a point. Well, why don’t we eat here while we work then? I can ask you a few of the questions I didn’t get to for your interview while you settle in.”

You sighed internally. There was really no way you could politely turn that down, so you forced your face into a smile.

“That sounds like it could work well.”

You were pleasantly surprised when your lunch actually went well. Deku never made a move on you, other than his request for you to call him Izuku, which seemed to apply to all the employees. It could have just been a ploy to get you to let your guard down, but all the same, you wanted to believe he really was this kind.

You two worked together in his office the whole day, and you became familiar with his schedule. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable, and as the day wore on you decided cautious optimism was the way to go. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 You smiled fondly at the memory, chopping carrots on the counter. Across the room from you, the man you had come to know well was pacing, mumbling frantically as he analyzed some old battle playing on his TV.

“Izuku, you’re going to throw off my cooking with all that racket, and then we’ll have nothing to eat.” You laughed lightly.

He nearly jumped 10 feet in the air. “Sorry, sorry! I guess I just got a little lost in thought. Although I guess I wasn’t the only one lost. I asked you about my schedule earlier and you didn’t seem to hear me at all.”

You blushed in shame. “Sorry.”

Izuku shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to me all the time. Obviously. What were you thinking about?”

“I was just remembering my first day working for you and how terrified I was.”

It seemed silly to you now, but back then you never could have predicted you would be best friends with your boss, let alone cooking dinner for him while working unofficial overtime as a passion project. You never thought that working for Izuku would be what you always wanted.

“Why were you terrified? Just because I’m #1? You’d worked with famous heroes before. I’m no one special.”

Oh, how wrong he was.

“You are special. You were the first hero I’d worked with who didn’t make me miserable. Every boss I had before you either sexually harassed me, overworked me or was just plain unpleasant. Usually all of those. I had given up on heroes before I met you,” you confessed casually.

Izuku blanched at you.

“What?” The word was breathless, barely audible.

“Yeah. I thought you knew my work history. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but anyone with any experience working with heroes will tell you Endeavor is not a super cuddly guy.”

“I…had no idea.” You looked up and found, to your surprise, that Izuku’s eyes were swimming with tears. “I never knew you were treated like that. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay. I have you now.” You froze at your misstep.

He would probably never notice it, but you had. It really hadn’t been your intention to fall in love with your boss, but he had been so sweet and kind to you that it had happened naturally. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled, the energy he had for the things he loved, his strength and dedication had all lead you here.

“I’m not going to let anything like that happen to you again. Or anyone. I’ll make sure your past employers get investigated.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

There was silence in Izuku’s house as you stared down at the carrot you had been cutting. In an effort to lighten the mood, you tried to make another joke.

“You know, that first day when you invited me to lunch, I thought you were hitting on me.” You laughed a little bit at the absurdity of it. “I know now that you would never do that, obviously.”

You heard the crash when Izuku dropped the mug of tea he had been holding. Before you could move, he was scrambling to pick it up, cheeks bright red and flaming.

“I-Oh, this is terribly awkward.” Izuku mumbled, no doubt thinking you couldn’t hear him.

“Wait. Were you flirting with me?” You asked, breathless.

“No! I mean…not…not then,” he stammered.

“Are you-” You stopped, taking a moment to gather your courage as Izuku stood, effectively giving up on the shards of pottery at his feet. “Are you flirting with me now?”

He stiffened, looking deeply uncomfortable as he met your gaze.

“Yes. I mean, not intentionally! It’s just that I have feelings with you, but I would never act on them. I would never want to make you uncomfortable and if you feel like you need to resign now because of that, I understand. I would be happy to recommend you to any of the other pro-heroes I know, and I can assure you they would make excellent bosses.”

You crossed the room to stand in front of him, taking one of his awkwardly flailing hands in your own.

“I think I am going to have to resign, unfortunately.” You watched his face fall before quickly correcting yourself. “It seems like it would be inappropriate to date my boss. I have feelings for you too, Izuku.”

Rising up on your tiptoes, you dared to kiss his cheek, hot from his blush and scattered with freckles.

“You do?”

The question is quiet, but you hear it clearly with his breath in your ear, faces still close from where you haven’t dared to move. You pull back now, surveying his awestruck face.

“Yes. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I guess it was sort of inevitable that I would fall for you.”

You smiled, biting your lip and staring down at your feet. Izuku’s warm, calloused hand reached up to your cheek, pulling your gaze up to his.

“So does this mean you want to be with me?”

The words seemed too good to be true, striking somewhere deep in your chest and knocking you breathless. Yes. Please, yes, let it be true.

“I would like that very much. If you would, I mean.”

Izuku nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! That was never my intention with this, but after getting to know you, I really do like you. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but I think you’re beautiful and clever and funny and I would love to take you out on a date, if that’s something you would want.”

You smiled, leaning gently into the palm of his hand that cupped your face, bringing your own hand up to twine your fingers together.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

Izuku laughed softly, and you could hear the emotion in the sound.

“You know, I was so lonely before you. I was really just hoping for a friend when I hired you. I thought maybe we would get along okay and I could have someone to keep me company. I was crushed when you said you liked to keep it professional, but I vowed to myself I would honor your wishes.”

“Yeah. We both did a great job of keeping it professional.” You gestured to your surroundings, snickering to yourself.

“I seem to recall you inviting me into your home first,” he teased.

“Hey! I was having a home decorating crisis! I could not build that shelf myself.”

“Or, as it turns out, with my help.”

You snorted at the memory of your backwards shelf, which you had eventually decided to just make do with. As it turned out, Izuku was terrible at building furniture. He was great at making you happy though.

“Well, it all turned out for the best.”

“It sure did. But I think we can both agree that you’re the one who’s not professional here.”

You rolled your eyes, rising up on your tiptoes.

“How’s this for professional?” You breathed.

Izuku seemed like he might ask questions, but before he could, you kissed him gently. When you pulled away, you were both smiling. Your hands had moved to wrap around his neck, and his hand had fallen to your waist.

“I think I’m really starting to like professionalism.”

[kentrix11]

I feel like the Maria Nearl event has a “Something that becomes bigger than the sum of it’s parts” thematic to it.

In the event Czarny refers to the country they have built as a symbol of the progress their people have made, goes on to talk about how he considers “good people” those that simply work, don’t commit crimes and also mentions that the major is the thing that keeps everything going thus he considers any threat to it as a threat to the business/status quo and evil.

Then we get Sonna’s perspective as an infected, how they are made to fight their fellow infected to the death to even have the right to be threated as people and be allowed to participate in the arena at all or as they puts it

“Just throw them into the machine. They will become one more symbol of our progress”

People suffer thanks to this “machine of progress” that only favors those at the top while it viciously consumes and throws away people below them for the sake of keeping this twisted status quo, not just infected people, thanks to Mlynar and Markowitz we see how the lower end of the working class is threated, even been as overworked as he is Mlynar still has to constantly sell things from his house just to get by and he also mentions pretty mess up taxes for villages, so the poor get treated like trash in general.

The country is at odds with itself, like a malfunctioning machine, the higher parts try to keep the lower ones calm from all the atrocities they make to keep their power.

What I consider interesting from a story standpoint, is Sonna’s specific analogy of the major and the country being a “machine” and our dear protagonist Maria being a mechanic that decided to enter the major for her own sake and that of her family, also being a knight that tries to follow the footsteps of the “Radiant Knight” someone with a with such passion that she could make people tremble and represented such a threat to the higher ups that they publicly bended the rules to kick her out.

All of this comes together in an interesting way.

Mlynar mentions that Margaret couldn’t change anything but the fact that the higher ups felt threatened enough to inmediatly take back their “infected will be allowed in the major“ for Margaret alone shows that they felt threatened by her.

This is due to multiple reasons:

First her being an infected would mean that people’s public opinion of the infected would be much better overtime thanks to her popularity, potentially leading to people being more in favor for the rights of the infected.

Second she is very explicitly against everything the commercialization of the competition of knights stands for and never bended her knee to any corporation, sticking to her ideals allowed her to directly oppose corporations while still playing their game.

The delicious part of this is that Margaret managed to acquire status, glory and power, all thanks to the system the people she was trying to overturn set up, all simply because the people at the top are greedy, so they wanted to use her to make profit, even if it gave her a chance to screw them over and that is one of the biggest weaknesses capitalists have.

This corporations, while faceless, are also directed by tremendously greedy and amoral people, which in turn means that any group they make will always have the risk of any of their members backstabbing each other for the sake of profit.

The 3 particular traits that motivate them are greed, arrogance and malice and they are also the 3 aspects that leave them full of openings, a poison that is also their blood.

Maria manages to get through the arena thanks to this traits, but also because every part of herself is firing on all cilinders at all times and thanks to this she manages to do what Margaret did but in the opposite manner, not through overwhelming strenght but relentless perseverance and using absolutely every tool at her disposal in a desperate struggle.

In her first fight the corporations’ greed gives her an opening against someone vastly stronger, in the second they are arrogant and send someone that isn’t strong enough against her, in the third one they send someone so arrogant that she wins a fight that should have been impossible and she even develops a new fighting style, finally in her fourth fight their maliciousness leads to them exposing their worse side thus pissing off Margaret enough to break every rule and make a grand return to save her sister.

The contrast created is one where the side of corporations keep making missteps. working against themselves in one way or another, pretty much creating threats against themselves and letting them grow beyond the point were they could have been easily dealt with.

Also funnily enough Maria, while opposing the status quo, also adheres to every other standard spokesman Czarny sets up for a good person, her being a diligent knight that never breaks the rules or does wrongdoings, whereas Czarny keeps breaking rules and does stuff like killing the father of a little kid on the kid’s birthday then using his last words to Platinum to tell her to kill that child.

Maria's side pretty much pull off miracle after miracle by giving it their all at all times(Except for that bit with Zofia wanting to get Maria out of the fight but she comes back around after a bit) and ultimately their efforts are what set up the return of the Radiant Knight.

Now that she is back there’s a real chance of change for Kazimierz as a whole, not because she is strong enough to destroy the higher up but because between her and Maria they can inspire people to move society to make a change for the better, making everyone come together for that sake.

So the story shows you a malfunctioning machine of country directed by a bunch of extremely capitalist people that are evil even by their own standards being driven into a corner thanks to the failings that got them their positions and the efforts of a mechanic girl doing her damndest to make things around her at least a little bit better while sticking to her ideals.

Or at least that’s how I guess it’s gonna go, the end of the event still isn’t out and I’m dying to see it so I wrote all of this, for all I know Nearl could just break into the office of those capitalist fucks and break their skulls with her mace, that would be funny too.

This was a nice rant to go on about.

[shoichee]

potential juicy part 3: when they meet akashi again at the winter cup, reader, who now "hates" him, disrespects him to his face + pretends she doesn't care. but after kuroko reveals the whole story the night before rakuzan game, she's forced to confront the truth + they go all out against him (and win ofc) so akashi, now back to being akashi, confesses to reader, ig reader finally tells him what happened? (did i just write a wholeass fic in your askbox i am so sorry) btw tysm for the part 1!!

LMAOO THE WHOLEASS FIC SENT ME HELPP you snapped off in your request i can only deliver justice.... did i just listened to some KNB openings on repeat to manifest myself to pretend I’m the characters so I can accurately write them?.......... n-no...... part 1 here and part 2 here ^^ AND part 4 here

Akashi x f!Reader (but 99% g/n)

Part 3 

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

shortly after Rakuzan’s victory against Shuutoku, the Rakuzan starters were walking together in the hallway to their lockers when you were blocking the way, hogging up the vending machines in the middle of the hallway to buy your teammates refreshments and snacks and then shoving them into your small backpack

Hayama impatiently yells at you to scram and Mayuzumi gives his own condescending comment, and you immediately looked up to see the infamous team

you instantly freeze up when you see Akashi in the back of the group just wordlessly staring as usual, and you just stay at your spot completely still for a while

“... Girl! Are you even listening?! Are you dumb or deaf?”

“That’s no way to speak to a girl!”

“Ow! But Reo-nee…”

“Maybe she just needs to eat? She’s probably hungry.”

“Ugh, no one else is like you, you know!”

“Tch.”

Mayuzumi merely frowns before he casually looks behind to see a rather intense aura emanating from Akashi, which is quite rare considering that you were a nobody compared to him and you weren’t someone who threatened him in any way… unless that was actually the case? but he merely observes from the shadows

“Move. You’re in the way.”

you incredulously stand up straight from his words and point a finger at him:

“I-I… I can’t believe it! This is the first thing you say to me after all this time?! Everything that happened at Teiko… was… was all your fucking fault! I hope the final game becomes your own downfall, you fucking jerk! And I hope I never see you again after tomorrow night.”

by now, you were hyperventilating from shouting at him, and the teammates were stunned… and absolutely fearful, their gazes darting back to Akashi to see his chilling gaze at you, looking quite calm

“How laughable. You haven’t changed at all, (y/n). You can believe in Seirin’s basketball all you want, say all you want, but it’s all pointless. Rakuzan will achieve victory like it always has. Now step aside.”

you only gape your mouth as you furiously huff and aggressively grab your packed bag and run, but as you dash away, you slightly stumble from the dizziness you felt from the emotional stress

ngl, Reo and Nebuya kinda pitied you watching you run

when you were gone from his field of vision, Akashi merely tells them to move onto the lockers and acts like nothing ever happened

you’ve practically convinced yourself that you truly hated Akashi for hurting Kuroko and destroying teamplay at Teiko… but in truth, you were only using him as a scapegoat to get over your unrequited feelings for him // of course the deepest part of you knew that the adults were responsible, and you knew that Akashi fulfilled his role of captain to the very end (while you meanwhile still had lingering feelings of self-doubt in your work ethic all this time)

while you were extremely happy for the Seirin team for making it to Winter Cup finals, you were so ashamed to even have the fleeting thought that you wanted Seirin to lose in the semi-finals so you didn’t have to face Akashi again

the late evening before the game tomorrow, Kuroko was in the mostly empty stadium, mostly because he wanted to reminisce about the old times before he faces Rakuzan tomorrow

it was a very unfortunate coincidence that Akashi was also there to survey the court for a moment before the game tomorrow

both of them held a long moment of eye contact before Kuroko decides to call him out

“Akashi-kun.”

“Tetsuya.”

“Have you ever had fun playing with Rakuzan?”

“To think that I had a fleeting thought of you asking me a different question this time. I can never understand how you’re fixated on such a pitiful ideal.”

“... Then… have you always felt this way even since the beginning of Teiko?” Akashi merely narrows his eyes at Kuroko

“Get to the point.”

“I’ve just been… wondering, that’s all.”

“Then I will not dally here further just to have a reunion about the past.” Akashi turns around to leave and walks a few steps before Kuroko calls out to stop him in his tracks

“... I want to ask you about (y/n)-san.” He merely watches Akashi slightly turning his head around before continuing. “What do you think about her?”

“She was Teiko’s head manager. How else did you think my opinion was, Tetsuya? She, just like Daiki, just like everyone else, was an asset to achieving victory. I will not repeat myself again.”

“Akashi-kun, with your Emperor Eye, surely you would’ve noticed something was amiss with (y/n)-san for a while now.” Akashi turns completely around with an impassive gaze

“Broken plates can still function fine. It’s no different with Daiki.” Kuroko grows furious for your sake

“H-How… how can you say that? Do you know how much she’s overworked herself and collapsed throughout these past months for the sake of our team? Did you even know how much of our own 1st-string players were belittling her despite her continuing to give it her all? She cared for our team—she cared for you! She didn’t even want to let you know what was going on behind your back to not burden you any further—and for you to only chalk her up as a tool—”

Akashi is slightly taken back at the sudden info dump/confession from Kuroko, struggling to process the new information… but his face gives little away; Kuroko continues on:

“We’re going to win tomorrow. I swear that Seirin will win against Rakuzan.”

“... It will be intriguing to see you try.” Akashi turns to finally exit out, leaving Kuroko simmering in his thoughts alone (excluding a few janitors) for a few minutes before he exits the stadium himself

in seeing you again the next day, Kuroko immediately notices how antsy you got and even offered to give you the massages to get rid of your own stress knots AND YOU INSTANTLY FEEL WARM BECAUSE YOU TAUGHT HIM YOUR TECHNIQUES SO LONG AGO, AND HE STILL REMEMBERS

you confide in Kuroko as he works out the knots, confessing that you don’t want to be there at the final game but you didn’t want to be selfish and ditch the team, especially since everyone made you feel like you mattered to the team (and you told him about your incident with Akashi yesterday too)

Kuroko shares his own fears and unresolved feelings to you to show that you weren’t alone in feeling uneasy (although he doesn’t share the info that he met up with Akashi)

wholesome friendship moment #753358

the talk made you made up your resolve, and you tell him that you were going to be there at the front bench to support Seirin like you’ve always done, but you do make a request for him to make an excuse for you in case you chicken out and flee mid-game or something

Kuroko agrees and to make you feel better, he proposes for you to focus on him throughout the game so you don’t have to look at Akashi; he knows you still harbor feelings for the Rakuzan captain

while the Seirin starters were warming up, you opted to survey the building interior to find the best route around… just in case if you wanted to flee // you meet Kaijo’s team by coincidence, and Kasamatsu ushers the rest of the team forward to leave you and Kise alone

Kise affectionately ruffles your hair and wishes you and Seirin good luck but also notices how anxious you look; this idiot slaps your back to calm you down LOL

“(y/n)-cchi! What are you so nervous for?”

“Ow! What the hell?”

“O-Ow, ow! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hit that hard—can you please let go?!”

“It’s been a while since I shoulder-locked you, huh…”

“Well, I certainly don’t miss it! You’re so cruel!”

and you only give him an all-knowing look at his “cruel” comment, and Kise panics again at his usual poor word choice… but you merely laugh at his distress

unintentionally, Kise does end up being the one to help you clear up the bundles of nerves… he’s still really worried for you because he definitely can see how you’re still hung up on Akashi

at the same time, when Seirin was watching Rakuzan team members do perfect layups, getting nervous about the game, you were a nervous wreck in your own world at the bench, triple-checking everything and giving massages to Teppei to relieve his knee pain for the time being

throughout the game, Akashi does throw a casual glance at you here and there when no one’s really looking, and meanwhile, you’re incredibly fixated on Kuroko (doing what he told you so you wouldn’t be tempted to look at Akashi)

a lot of your attention was on Furihata anyways because you were focused on massaging particular areas to reduce the physical stress exerted on them during the game

part of Akashi wants to go all out and win this game not only to prove you and Kuroko wrong, but also to impress you, but that’s something his true self feels (who is dormant in his subconscious) rather than his current self… but it’s still there

the moment you broke was when the Akashi you knew and liked finally returned to the court, and you immediately excused yourself to the empty infirmary room to bawl your eyes out and put yourself together; you tell yourself that it’s just another tactic of Akashi and return to the game right when Seirin makes their game point

Oreshi gave 100% in battling against Seirin but occasional glances constantly were shot over to Seirin’s bench to look for you, but you were gone at the last part of the game until at the very end

after the team lineups and trophy distributions, you immediately run outside of the stadium for crisp night air, heaving in as much as you could to try to prevent your body from having any funny ideas of dying on the spot

“... (l/n)-san.”

from his voice, you knew it was Akashi, and you debated on running as fast as you can but the current state of your body didn’t make it a viable option; you opted to stand still quietly, your back still facing him

“(/n)-san,” Akashi softly says again, slowly walking up to you and stopping four meters behind you to give you reasonable space in the confrontation

“... I hate you, you know that? Didn’t I tell you that I didn’t want to see you again after this game?”

“Kuroko disclosed to me what happened.”

“He what?!” In your shock, you whirl around to face Akashi, only to be stunned to see his gentle eyes filled with guilt and worry

“... I want to give you my sincerest apology for everything I’ve done and for what I didn’t do for you. In seeing how the Generation of Miracles had their talents bloomed substantially at a rapid rate, I had believed chasing for absolute victory was the only way to hold us together. Teamwork was nigh impossible given that we had no equal rivals from the outside. Even if that was the only plausible option to take as captain, I still failed Teiko’s other members, including you. To think that I was foolish in letting go what was most important to me.”

he gives a deep bow, further shocking you of your wits

“I…” You pause before you frown. “What did Kuroko even tell you?”

Akashi tells you exactly what Kuroko said and you immediately deny it

“Th-That’s… I only worked hard to get better, so I wouldn’t get left behind. Our old teammates were a testament that I was lacking, and I tried hard to catch up to everyone. I only collapsed due to my own irresponsibility. No matter how much I tried, I could never reach up to everyone’s level, even until now.”

“That’s not the whole truth isn’t it, (l/n)-san?” You widen your eyes at his statement, worried about the insinuation of his words

Oreshi now was not the same Oreshi back in Teiko; he’s now much sharper when it comes to you; he senses that there was something else amiss

“Why didn’t you tell me about what happened back at Teiko? Did you feel that you couldn’t rely on me as a captain?” Akashi sounds hurt… really hurt

you, taken back, immediately were quick to answer:

“N-No! If anything, I… I didn’t want you to look at me in a lesser light if you ever found out that our members started losing faith in me, and I… I wanted to be dependable like everyone else on the team! And if I was reliable, you would be able to depend on me like you used to in the very beginning…”

“(l/n)-san,” Akashi mumbles with upturned brows. “You’ve always been viable to me and the team. Why do you go through such lengths?” Your tears burst forth uncontrollably before you choked out:

“Because I liked you! You were so accomplished and reputable…! I had always th-thought that deep down, i-if I kept improving myself, that you’d notice me in the way I saw you!” Both you and Akashi widened your eyes at what you just said

well shit, maybe now is a good time to run? but before you even had any other ideas, Akashi steps forward to gently clasp your wrist

“... How do you feel about me now?” You obviously hesitate and look down at your clasped wrist, tears still streaky on your face, and at your silence, Akashi continues. “If you truly despise me… I understand. I won’t bother you anymore after tonight… But please believe me (l/n)-san, when I say…”

he moves from your wrist to your hand, taking his other hand to bring up both your hands in a delicate clasp

“... that I’ve always been fond of you, ever since the beginning.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am not, (l/n).” To prove his point, Akashi places a tentative ghost kiss on his hands holding yours, wary in trying not to overstep his boundaries in case you didn’t want your hands to be kissed by him; he leaves his lips there before he murmurs

“... How can I make it up to you?” You feel his soft breath reverberating through your own hands, and it felt so sincere

“Well… for starters, I want to know the Akashi outside of basketball…” He lets go of your hands and gives a small smile

“Then it would be more appropriate to call me Seijurō, don’t you think?”

“Ah… then… you can call me by my first name too.”

“(y/n)... please don’t hesitate to come to me when anything troubles you.”

“I’ll try.”

“And please don’t overwork yourself. It’s not good for you.”

“I’m not making promises.”

“I do hope that in time you’ll come to realize that you’re an extremely talented person… quite a force to be reckoned with too.”

“Was the second half an innuendo of some sorts?”

“You don’t meet someone everyday who wouldn’t hesitate to cuss out the Rakuzan captain while pointing at his face.”

“I…! I’m sorry! I spoke out of—” He puts a finger to your lips with a teasing smile before he grows serious

“I must also apologize for my cruel words…

… I hope that you would find it in yourself to forgive all of my own misdeeds.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble. “Maybe that will happen sooner than later because I do… like you.”

“It’s nice to hear a confirmation from you.”

“Stop acting like you got me figured out, Seijurō!”

“I wouldn’t dare, (y/n).”

bonus: imagine the shock from Seirin and Rakuzan to see you two DATING (when that eventually happens), like Hayama is losing his entire MIND over this it’s SO FUNNY LMAO // Kuroko and Kise are so smug and happy for you two it’s very wholesome

The… end?

UPDATE: sike, by the time you read this, there is a part 4 epilogue

[thesquishyrogue]

Rogue's relationships with the rest of the mercs

Scout:

Almost like a brother-sister relationship. They're always goofing off together, joking around, getting on Spy's nerves. Just being the chaotic force of the team. Scout constantly convinces Rogue to play baseball with him, especially after seeing that they both use bats as a weapon (albeit Rogue's has nails driven through it).

Scout: "Aw man, sick bat! Say, you ever actually played baseball? If not I could teach ya. Though, you should probably use a different bat. I'll let ya borrow one of mine!"

Soldier:

He's definitely sort of a weird uncle figure to her. She's always giggling at his ridiculous antics, and he's surprisingly protective of her. Although at the same time he's always impressed by her ability to fend for herself, and fight off men larger than her despite her size.

Soldier: "Hell yeah, look at her go! Kicking ass just like a true American! She makes me proud!"

Pyro:

Oh my goodness. These two. Rogue almost always puts on a tough attitude, especially around the other guys. But around Pyro? They're probably the only person Rogue will be a softie towards. They're constantly seen platonically hugging and cuddling, and Pyro loves when Rogue covers their mask in stickers. They always return the favor by covering her face. Once they come off she treasures them. The others will always comment on how adorable the two are, usually followed by Rogue telling them to fuck off.

Rogue: "If anything were to ever happen to Pyro, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself."

Pyro: (灬º‿º灬)

Demoman:

Their relationship is quite explosive, to say the least. When Demo isn't trying to get Rogue to try some of his alcohol (which always results in Rogue gagging and choking from the bitterness) they're always assisting each other on the battlefield. Mostly in the form of Rogue catapultng Demo's bombs at enemies with her slingshot. They always share a laugh when a BLU team member is blown to bits.

Demoman: "Boom, right in the head! Look at all that blood! Yer aim is getting better and better, lassie!"

Heavy:

Just looking at these two stand next to each other is almost laughable. With Heavy being incredibly larger than everyone and Rogue being incredibly smaller, he practically dwarfs her. He's extremely gentle with her though, and takes care of her in sort of a protective big brother kind of way. Whenever the team is lounging around, she's often either cuddled into him or resting her legs in his lap. He doesn't mind it. He's also let her beat him in arm wrestling numerous times. She knows he lets her win, but she still take the opportunity to boast to the other mercs about it.

Heavy: "Little girl is so strong. You've beaten me again."

Rogue: 😏😏😏

Engineer:

He's also like an uncle figure to her. But unlike Soldier, he's more of the chill laid-back uncle that she can go to for advice. And she often does. Sometimes when she's bored she'll go into his workshop and talk with him as he plays his guitar or she helps out with whatever he's working on. Even if that help is something as simple as just handing him tools, he appreciates it. He appreciates the company too.

Engie: "Alright darlin', can you hand me the screwdriver?"

Rogue: "Uh... which one?"

Engie: "The Phillips."

Rogue: "Uh..."

Engie: "The pointy one."

Rogue: "Oh! Yeah sure I knew that."

Medic:

Like with Engie, Rogue will often go into the infirmary to talk with Medic as he works (she also makes sure he takes a break once in a while and doesn't overwork himself). He also does what he can to help with her depression once that's out in the open, prescribing her any antidepressants he can get his hands on. Though when she first joined the team and he gave her her first annual exam, he was astounded by how many fractures and injuries he'd found that were just left to sloppily heal on their own. The sadistic doctor was actually kind of worried for her, though honestly impressed by her high pain tolerance.

Medic: "Goodness fräulein, this is the fifth fracture I've found! How are you even walking?"

Rogue: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sniper:

Despite having quite good aim from using a slingshot for years, Rogue was quite inexperienced with guns (not including when she killed her old caretaker at the end of her fighting days). So naturally, Sniper took it upon himself to teach her. He educates her on different types of guns in order to find what works best for her, and the two partake in target practice together. Of course, the two end up bonding during the lessons. She tells him all about her life in the ring, and he tells her about what life was like back in Australia. One thing that Rogue wasn't anticipating, however, was how strong the recoil of a gun can be. She was so unprepared she was thrown right onto her ass in shock.

Sniper: "Crikey! You alright there, mate?"

Rogue: "Yeah I'm fine... fuck, what was that?!"

Sniper: "Recoil, love. Did you not know guns did that?"

Rogue: "...no..."

Spy:

Although she and Spy certainly took the longest to warm up to each other, the two are as close as can be now. Once they finally accepted each other, Spy took her under his wing as his apprentice. He helps her perfect her thieving skills and educates her on how to take tough situations in stride. She really looks up to him, and they almost have a father-daughter relationship. And of course, when her depression comes to light, he's her biggest means of support. He's always available when she needs him and he does whatever he can for her.

Spy: "You make me so proud, mon cheri. You've captured the intel once again, our training has really paid off. Great job."

Rogue: "Thanks dad."

Spy: "Excuse me, what was that?"

Rogue: "....nothing."

Bonus!

Miss Pauling:

Miss Pauling is literally the first woman Rogue has ever been close to in her life. Throughout her entire childhood she's been surrounded by creepy older men, and even though things are different now with the mercs... they're still men. There are just some things Rogue isn't quite comfortable talking to them about. But with Miss Pauling, going to her for help with things like clothes shopping and feminine problems almost feels natural. Hell, there were so many things Rogue didn't even know about periods until Miss Pauling explained them to her. And of course Miss Pauling takes the time out of her busy work day as often as she can to make sure Rogue is stocked up on sanitary items, and whatever else she needs. Rogue is always extremely greatful for it. And while part of her sees Miss Pauling as sort of a mother figure...another part sort of has a crush on her. Yeah, Miss Pauling was pretty much Rogue's bisexual awakening. But she hasn't said anything about it, one because it would just be awkward and two because she knows Scout also likes her, and she doesn't wanna stand in his way (but little does either of them know, Miss Pauling is a lesbian 👀)

Miss Pauling: "Rogue, honey, you don't even know what a pad is? Or a tampon??? What- what do you do when you get your period?"

Rogue: "What, you mean that weird time of the month that I start bleeding? I just... live with it I guess? Maybe put toilet paper in my panties if it gets too messy-"

Miss Pauling: "Rogue. Come with me, I'll get you stocked up on the things you need. And we'll get you some new panties too."

Rogue: "But don't you have things to do?"

Miss Pauling: "This is more important. You shouldn't have to suffer every month just because no one ever properly taught you about periods. I'll help you out."

Saxton Hale:

Rogue thought he was obnoxious upon first meeting him. Called him a "corporate clown" to the other mercs. But, she had to  earn his approval in order to join the team, so Miss Pauling insisted that she be on her best behavior around him. But, even when on her best behavior her spunkiness still shined through, and Saxton noticed it real quick. However, that spunkiness only raised his interest. He commented on how he, "Hadn't met such a scrappy sheila in a long time." Truth be told, she reminded him a lot of Maggie, but he wasn't about to mention it. During their one on one meeting, he demanded that she punch him in the face to test her strength. After a short hesitation, she did so. Saxton was impressed that she actually hit him hard enough to dislocate his jaw and bust his lip, and gave her the job on the spot with the promise that she keep up that energy (and learn to use some weapons, of course). Miss Pauling and the mercs were shocked to see the two of them come back with Saxton's arm slung around Rogue's shoulders and his face dripping with blood, and the two of them laughing with each other. She took back what she said about him being a corporate clown. Although, the only thing she still doesn't like about him is how he treats Miss Pauling, considering how close she is with her. She has a mind to call him out on it, but Miss Pauling begs her not to.

Saxton: "Let's see just how strong a little gal like you can really be. Go on, hit me RIGHT here! Hard as ya can!"

Rogue: "Uh...Mr. Hale, I really don't-"

Saxton: "Oh don't wuss out on me girly, you want this job or not?!"

Crack.

Rogue: "Oh my god- Mr. Hale! I am so-"

Saxton: "Now that's what I'm talking about! You pack a hard punch for such a cute little thing!"

Rogue: "You're bleeding..."

Saxton: "Consider yourself hired!"

Administrator:

Doesn't trust her. Not one bit. She only respects her because she has to, and even then her "respect" is so shallow that anyone could see right through it. She hates the way she berates, overworks, and oftentimes gaslights Miss Pauling, and the fact that even all the other mercs seem to be intimidated by her concerns her greatly. She knows something's going on with her behind the scenes, and she's determined to figure out what. In the few times she actually saw her in person, Rogue definitely smarted off to her more than once, despite Miss Pauling practically begging her to watch it. The Administrator, however, almost finds it adorable. Almost. She kind of views Rogue as a bratty child. A bratty child with skill and talent that is essential for her team. And for that, she lets the sassiness slide...for now. Luckily these two don't butt heads often though, considering the Administrator is rarely seen.

Administrator, over the loud loudspeaker: "Well done, let's see some more."

Rogue, mumbling: "Bite me..."

[helloalycia]

alex WILL kick my arse // supergirl

summary: you learn that being supergirl's doctor came with its challenges

warning/s: none.

author's note: i’m lowkey posting a bunch of stuff that i posted on my wattpad a while ago lol

masterlist | wattpad

I was sat in the medical unit of the DEO, reading through some medical reports from the past few months. I had just transferred from the DEO's desert facility, where I was one of the doctors there to help with any of the agents' injuries. After a long time there, I decided to transfer here when there was an opening for the lead doctor.

I thought it would be best to settle in by having a look at what severe cases had been dealt with recently. It was usually the same stuff – agents injured on field missions. Bullet wounds, broken bones, sprained muscles, thankfully nothing too severe. There hadn't been many major alien attacks which meant less risky field operations.

I was pulled from the reports when the red alarm light began to flash for a few seconds, accompanied by a siren, before turning off.

"Agent Y/L/N, Supergirl is incoming with J'onn," my radio went off – it was Director Danvers. "She's had a solar flare and got a gunshot wound."

I recalled what a solar flare was from research I'd done in Supergirl's medical records. That was something I prioritised when coming here, since we didn't have Supergirl at the other facility.

"I'm prepping a bed and equipment now," I replied through the radio, before hurrying to do that. J'onn could literally fly, he'd be here any minute.

With the help of some nurses who were around, I prepped a bed and had the solar energy panels on standby for when/if her powers came back sooner than we thought. I had the tools ready to bandage up her gunshot wound temporarily when both heroes appeared beside me.

J'onn was stood there, holding Supergirl bridal style and lowering her onto the bed.

"Still getting used to that," I mumbled, surprised at how he just sped in here.

"I said I'm– agh, I'm fine," Supergirl complained, clutching her bloody wound and trying to sit up. "My powers will come back."

I stepped by her bedside and pushed her back down gently, moving closer to inspect her wound. "Please stay still for a second."

"Listen to the doctor," J'onn teased to lighten the mood.

Supergirl rolled her eyes and stayed still. I removed her hand and noticed it was covered in blood.

"Can somebody come clean this up?" I called out to one of the nurses, motioning to her hand.

One of the nurses did as I asked as I took a look at her wound. The bullet was still in there by the looks of it.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to overwork yourself?!" Director Danvers' voice called out as she walked in.

She was glaring at Supergirl, though the worry in her eyes was evident as she took in the hero's appearance.

"It's barely a scratch, Alex, it'll heal," Supergirl said dismissively, but as I cleaned up the blood with a cloth, I saw her clench her jaw a little.

"You need to be careful, you're not indestructible," Alex reminded her, before looking to J'onn. "Can you believe her?"

J'onn chuckled. "I'll leave you both to it. I should get back." He glanced at me. "Good luck."

I nodded his way, offering a small smile as he walked away.

"As fun as it is watching you both glare at each other, I do need to remove the bullet," I spoke up, interrupting both girls' staring contest.

"Go for it," Supergirl said, her eyes meeting mine.

"With anaesthetic," Alex added, shooting another glare towards the blonde.

"I don't need anaesthetic," Supergirl countered with an eye-roll and scoff.

"You're human for the time being, remember?" Alex reminded her before looking to me. "Anaesthetic, please."

I bit my lower lip as they erupted into another argument about how I should proceed. I didn't know either of them well enough to cut in, so I stood there awkwardly, trying to stop the blood loss and planning out how I could temporarily bandage her up so it could heal itself when she gets her powers back.

"I have to go," Alex finally said, pulling me back into reality. "I have to check on the bank robbery." She didn't seem too happy leaving Supergirl here, but she gave her a knowing look before looking to me. "Please make sure she stays put?"

"You got it, Director," I said with a playful salute. How hard could it be to keep her here?

Alex gave Supergirl one last warning look before leaving us be. I looked to the blonde who was finally breathing out, letting her guard down a little now that it was just us.

"The anaesthetic will make it bearable, just so I can remove the bullet," I spoke, causing her to open her eyes and look at me. "I'm just gonna bandage you up temporarily and you'll heal yourself when you get your powers back. Shouldn't be more than a few days, according to your medical history."

She swallowed hard before shaking her head. "I've been through much worse. It's okay. Just remove it and bandage me up. The sooner I'm out of here, the better."

I was ready to argue, but she gave me a convincing look and I couldn't help but give in.

"Fine, but you stay here and rest," I reasoned, to which she gave me a small, cute smile.

I got to work and surprisingly, she managed. It went well and I managed to bandage her up quite quickly, though it did mean I had to cut into her suit a little. Better safe than sorry though.

"Okay, you're all done," I said, patting her arm supportively, before packing away the gauze. "I'm gonna go get you some water and then you should take it easy, stay here maybe until you get your powers back. That alright?"

She gave me a thumbs up and a promising smile. "You got it, doc."

I was fairly confident that she would listen to me, since she seemed polite and was a trooper throughout the whole thing. However, I soon realised how naive I had been when I returned and her bed was empty.

I facepalmed and shook my head, realising she'd definitely played along the whole time.

The first thing I did was look around the DEO, asking around if anyone had seen Supergirl. I eventually followed the commotion coming from the main hall and spotted both Supergirl and Director Danvers having an argument.

"...stay and rest! You can't keep ignoring simple instructions, Kara!" Alex shouted around her.

Supergirl rolled her eyes and continued to look at the tablet in her hand. I approached the two and cleared my throat loudly to get the blonde's attention.

When she noticed me, she gave me a sheepish smile. "Doctor Y/L/N. Heeeeeeey."

"One job, literally," Alex mumbled, giving me a knowing look, before storming off.

I breathed out and glared at Supergirl. "Are you serious? I asked you to stay put!"

She straightened up and spread her arms out for emphasis. "But I'm fine! See? Nothing hurts, I'm walking, it's all good! Job well done, I must say. You're new, right? Well, I know why you got the job!"

She avoided my glare as she walked around me to get to the other side of the desk.

"You've heard of the term 'first impressions count', haven't you?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She gave me a knowing look. "C'mon. You can't hate me for this."

I sighed. "I've got work to do. Call me if you tear your stitches."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I turned around and began to leave.

"I'm not gonna tear them!" I heard her call out from behind me, but I didn't care. I wasn't her parent, she could do what she wanted.

I wish I'd known I was dealing with a stubborn Super before accepting this job though.

–

"What a surprise," I said sarcastically.

A few hours later, I'd been called into one of the medical rooms because apparently, Supergirl had collapsed from blood loss and tore her stitches. Shocker.

"Is she going to be okay?" Alex asked as I got to work for the second time that day.

"Yeah, if she decides to listen to me this time," I said, sighing. "Is she always this stubborn?"

Alex clenched her jaw. "Unfortunately, yes... you think you can keep her here next time?"

"I'll give it my best shot," I promised her. "I'll call you when she's up?"

Alex nodded, patting me on the shoulder. "Thanks."

She left me to do my thing and this time I did things my way, the right way, with anaesthetic and IV fluid. I managed to sort out Supergirl's mess before going back to my office to fill out some more paperwork.

Some time passed when I found myself going back to check on Supergirl and see if she was awake. I was cleaning up a little around her side table when I heard her stir awake. She seemed confused at first, as she looked around and saw the tube coming from her arm. Eventually, realisation set in and she sank into her pillow.

I decided to stay quiet as I finished up, about to leave, but she stopped me.

"Wait," she called out. I paused as she continued, "I'm sorry."

I turned around and waited, watching as, unlike before, she wasn't joking or being unserious.

"I should have stayed put before. And listened to you. I didn't mean to offend you or come across as rude," she continued genuinely.

I crossed my arms and straightened up. "Well, Supergirl–"

"Kara," she interrupted. "It's Kara."

I nodded. "Okay, Kara. Yes, you probably should have listened. I redid your stitches and I'm asking you to stay put again. You're human for now and you need to act like one."

"You're right," she agreed, breathing out. "Sorry."

I realised that she seemed to mean it and at the end of the day, I was her doctor, so I couldn't hold a grudge. Instead, I went to her bedside and checked her monitors to see how she was doing.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, glancing at her.

"Tired. Achey. But better than before."

"That'll be the meds kicking in," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I did have to get in there twice."

Her cheeks went pink as she smiled with embarrassment. "I'm not used to being so..."

"Fragile?" I finished for her.

"Exactly," she said, nodding. "I'm not used to it and staying put isn't exactly my forte."

"I could tell," I joked, making her laugh a little. She had a nice laugh.

"About that first impressions thing..." she began, blue eyes holding mine nervously.

"It's nice to meet you for the first time, Kara," I said, holding out my hand. "I'm Y/N. Your doctor."

She cracked a smile, realising what I was doing. She shook my hand and said, "Nice to meet you, too, Y/N."

"Okay, I should go and get Alex," I said, backing up to leave. "Now please don't leave because Alex will kick my arse if you're not here when she comes back."

She laughed again. "I promise I'll be here when you return."

"Fingers crossed you're not playing me again," I mumbled loud enough for her to hear.

Her laughter seemed to follow me out the room, leaving me smiling to myself.

[monsterlovinghours]

Okay. You asked for robofizz prompts and I think I have something. Character (reader or OC, totally up to you) works at Loo Loo Land as a maintenance worker for the rides and games. Their day is busy as hell because, let’s be honest, shit breaks down a lot there. But, out of the blue, management makes them robofizz’s new mechanic because he killed the last one. This is the first time they’re meeting the deranged clown and things get pretty, you know, when character tries to fix his sparking wires. 👀👀👀👀👀

oh fuck here we go y’all sluts better buckle up

Ducking behind a row of rigged carnival games, you let your work bag fall to the ground as you took a breather, wiping sweat and what looked like engine oil (but could be anything from burnt sugar to cremation ash) off your forehead. Taking a job as a ride mechanic had seemed like a good idea at the time; get into the park for free, discounts on funnel cake, access to all the shows. All you had to do was tighten a few bolts and make sure nobody got electrocuted too severely. 

But here, like the rest of Hell, imps like you were disposable grunt workers and nobody gave two and a half shits if you were overworked or exhausted. Everything was broken or breaking. You were shocked (metaphorically and literally) your first day when you saw that behind the novelty prizes and shiny veneers, the park was just a rat’s nest of rusted metal, sharp edges, and exposed wiring. Mechanics were routinely crushed or mangled or fried, and within a day another had taken their place. So far, you’d managed to avoid the various death traps and make it a solid month, which made you one of the more senior employees. 

Today was especially busy; there was some important fuck and his daughter at the park today, and orders were to keep the place running as smoothly as possible, though “smooth” was a relative term. It had seen you running like a maniac from one end of the park to the other, your uniform shirt coming untucked from your grease-stained pants as you jogged from one disaster to the next. Predictably, as soon as you had a second to take a breath, your phone went off, the splintering chitter of its message alert drilling into your ears. 

Another mechanic was down, this one working to repair one of the main acts. You groaned, big machines you were fine with, but intricate wiring and robotics? Not your strong suit. And this was the top-billed show, the most loved (or most feared) performer the park had to offer. Fizzarolli himself. You hadn’t seen the show yet, and his ominous circus tent was one of the only places you hadn’t yet been called to to fix something, but since you were currently the most senior mechanic on staff at the moment, and seeing how RoboFizz had just crushed his last mechanic, the job fell unfortuitously to you. 

Fantastic.

You sighed and slung your tool bag over your shoulder, walking briskly through the crowds to hastily erected circus tent, which had been cleared of people for the time being. You took a deep breath before ducking inside, blinking a bit as your eyes adjusted from the bright light of midday to the dim green glow that filled the tent. Some benches were knocked over, a few still had blood spatter on them, but you'd straighten that up later. At the moment, your focus was on the shadowed figure bent in unnatural angles slumped on the stage. His eyes and grinning mouth were lit with the same dull green, and they narrowed to slits when they saw you. 

"Its about ti-time you got here, toots!" He laughed, the sound skipping like a damaged record. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you knelt behind Fizz to access his mainframe; at least the rides didn't talk. 

"Yeah yeah, its busy work keeping this shithole operating, sue me." A few twists with a screwdriver, and the panel popped free, exposing the tangled wires and hydraulics, and you groaned inwardly. This kind of detailed work was way beyond your level of experience. 

"Ya waiting for a formal invitation ba-ba-back there, tinker? Get moving, I've got an audience waiting!"

"Hell's sake, keep your bells on. I'm not exactly a robotics expert." Clamping a small flashlight in your teeth, you started to poke around inside the hydraulics, looking for any leaks or broken connections. Not seeing anything right away, you probed deeper, focused on finding the problem in the less than adequate lighting. Had you been more experienced in dealing with robots, you would have perhaps remembered to inspect the outer body for any exposed wiring. As it happens, you did not, and your inexperience led you to brush against an exposed set of wires that threw sparks and burned a dark, circular mark on the back of your hand. The pain made you jerk back on instinct, yelping and cursing. It took you a moment to notice that the posture of the clown had changed, straightening from his slumped position with his head cocked sharply to the side. With the soft ratchet of moving machinery, Fizz turned his head 180 degrees to look at you, and you noticed more quickly now that his stare had changed as well. Before, it felt derisive, a touch irritated behind the ever present smile he'd been programmed with. But now there was more intent inside the green, more interest...almost as if he were leering at you.

"Ohhh," he rasped, "so its gonna be that kind of show?"

You were confused, until you noticed a dot of red within the green, a new light in the mainframe, with tiny lettering indicating what new function your little spasm had switched on. 

18+ Mode On

Your eyes widened as the reality of your little mistake finally began to sink in. It was a well known fact that Fizz had an “adult” mode, mainly for private shows where wads of cash exchanged hands behind closed doors. Sometimes, the crowds at night were bigger than the crowds during the day. Sure, on a lonely night or two, you’d wondered just what a sex-capable robot clown could do and if shelling out a small fortune would be worth it. Now, it seemed, you were about to get an accidental freebie.

“Fuck.”

“That’s the idea, sweetcheeks.” Fizz got to his feet with a whir and a shower of yellowish sparks, his body jerking so that the back panel slammed shut, hiding his exposed mechanics and thwarting any attempt you might have made to switch his mode. From somewhere within the tent, jaunty calliope music began to play, the pitch slow and wavering at first, like playing a record on the wrong speed. “So what’s your ple-pleasure, sweet stuff? Your ol’ pal Fizzarolli can do it all-upstairs, downstairs, butt stuff, you name it.”

“I...uh…” Your entire body felt numb, frozen, unable to do much more than stare as he advanced toward you, looming over you with that malevolent, leering grin still on his fanged mouth. “I’m not...I mean, I don’t…”

Fizz paused, his head once more cocking sharply to the side as he regarded you, then he let out a laugh, the bells on his hat jingling as his head did a complete roll on his shoulders. “Aww, looks like someone’s sh-shy! Don’t worry, tinker,” he growled in a smug, condescending tone, reaching down to pat you on the head. “I’ll take the reins on this one. You just sit back and enjo-jo-joy the show!”

With a sinister chuckle, he lunged for you, wrapping his entire body around you like an electronic boa constrictor, that laugh still buzzing in your ear as he coiled tight, then unwound himself, flinging your body towards the ceiling of the tent. There was barely any time for you to pull breath into your lungs to scream, and then suddenly, you weren’t falling anymore. Something else was wrapped around you, something cold and biting as steel. Around each wrist, each ankle, your waist, and your neck, whiplike appendages were wound, thin and covered in shifting metal plates. You were being held in midair, suspended like a puppet; if the advertisements you’d seen plastered around the park were any clue, you would guess that you were getting a taste of the “real tentacle action” Fizz boasted. Indeed, from within the loose panel on his back was where the appendages seemed to originate. 

As he stalked closer, you gulped, the sickly green glow of his eyes bathing your face and throwing your shadow in harsh relief against the canvas wall. Fizz wasted no time, and with only a deranged giggle as a warning, he shoved his hand beneath the untucked hem of your shirt to slide into your pants, cold hand cupped firmly between your legs. Barely a sound had left you, everything happening so fast you could barely process, let alone react, but a moan left you now, the silk of his glove and the ruffle around his wrist feeling so strange and yet so good as they brushed against your most sensitive parts. Fizz chuckled, or at least, he attempted to, the sound glitching into a series of strange beeps in response to your apparent openness to his touch.

"Boy, hardly touched at all and you're already moaning? You must need it ba-bad, impling." He leaned closer, eyes narrowing, and you shied away from those sharp teeth, so close to your face. Without warning, that hand between your legs began to vibrate, and you yelped, wriggling in your bonds.

"Ohhh...oh fuck…!"

"Like I said," he crooned. "That's the idea-ea-ea." The vibrations cranked up a notch, and you could no longer keep still, your breath coming faster, tail thrashing behind you out of sheer pleasure. Truthfully, it had been a long time; when you were fighting to keep a roof over your head and passing out from near exhaustion the second you returned home at night, there wasn't much time to try and get laid. It was lonely and it sucked, but that's life. Now, touched for the first time in what could have been centuries for all you knew, your toes curled inside your work boots, tears forming in your eyes as your hips bucked against his hand. It was so good, so fucking good, and with every increase in speed, your moans and cries got louder, more desperate, until-

"Ah-ah-ah, tinker, no you don't!" Suddenly that hand was gone, all stimulation withdrawn, and you whimpered. The tentacles around your extremities tightened in response. "You thought I was just gonna let you co-come so soon? Poor, dumb little imp-slut, it ain't gonna be that easy."

You swore, your teeth bared in an impotent snarl, but the clown only laughed, more carnival-striped tentacles unfurling and wrapping around you, the metal cold against your overheated skin. Now fully immobile, you were lifted higher, splayed out, shaking and wanting. The new appendages began to nudge and press around your body, seemingly exploring your form while the clown stepped between your spread legs, hands groping at your trembling thighs. His smirk was near evil, merciless, piercing as a laser as he watched his tentacles divest you of every stitch of clothing, torn and tossed aside without care. The tips of his jester hat brushed along your legs as he leaned closer to your core, mouth opening to graze the tips of his sharp teeth along your inner thighs, chuckling when you writhed, uncertain if you were trying to pull away or get closer. “Please,” you whimpered, not quite knowing what you were begging for, your body reduced to firing synapses and electric pulses of pure need.

Again, that mocking giggle issued from somewhere behind his sharp teeth. “Begging now, slut? You really want it tha-a-at bad, huh?” His open mouth neared your center, and you noticed now that there was heat coming from him, like the brush of warm breath, and saw a faint reddish glow shining from somewhere within his maw. “Want Ol’ Fizz to make you come again and a-again like the greedy little tramp you are?”

“Yes,” you choked out, so far past caring how desperate you sounded. “Yes, please, please, please!”

A soft whir was your only warning before something long, warm, and slippery was sliding between your legs; your body spasmed, jerking against the restraining appendages, your head lifting to see his striped tongue pressing against you, coated in shiny lubricant. He licked experimentally at you, seeing how much pressure you liked and where you were most sensitive, continuing his brutal teasing as the needle-sharp tips of his fingers raked down your thighs, nearly drawing blood. Then that mouth opened impossibly wide, eyes narrowed to knowing slits as that tongue probed at your entrance, nudging against it before shoving inside with no warning. Gasps and choked half-words fell from your lips at the delicious stretch of being suddenly, violently filled, his tongue twisting and pushing, the stripes not just for decoration but denoting a raised, almost ribbed texture. 

When it began to vibrate inside you, you couldn’t help but scream.

He cooed filth up at you, still able to talk despite his mouth being wrapped around you, voice distorted from the vibrations. Yellowish sparks would issue from his limbs as he fought to keep you still, burning against your skin like vicious little kisses. You weren’t coaxed to the edge so much as dragged toward it, your orgasm slamming into you with near physical force. The clench and thrashing of your body didn’t slow him; if anything, the vibrations intensified, more tentacles issuing from him to stroke and tease other erogenous zones, your entire body his to play with, helpless against his ruthless pursuit of your ruin. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he ripped your pleasure from your body with no care to be gentle, teeth and hands leaving marks in their wake. You were his slut, his eager imp-whore, his pretty little toy; at least, you didn’t deny it when he growled these claims up at you. As long as he didn’t stop, you would be anything he wanted.

But while he couldn’t grow tired or drained, you certainly could, and through a veil of tears you begged him to stop, half afraid that he wouldn’t. Fizz paused, then slowly unwound himself from around your violently shaking form, tentacles disappearing back inside the panel they had come from. He regarded you curiously, still grinning as you collapsed in a boneless, shaking heap, unable to do much except pant for breath. Finally, you looked up at him with hazy eyes, your sweaty hair falling limply in your face.

“Didn’t you have a show to do?”

Fizz threw back his head and laughed, the bells on his hat jingling merrily, a stark contrast to the cold, malicious sound of his glee. “Not the sharpest t-t-tool in the shed, huh, tinker? Look around; you a-are the show.”

To your horror, you could see dozens of yellow eyes pinned to your naked form, imps of all shapes and sizes, eyeing you hungrily. The light of day outside the tent was gone, and the depraved crowds that only came around at night had filtered in while you were...preoccupied. Ruby skin turned a mortified burgundy as you scrambled to cover yourself with any scraps of your clothing you could find, but Fizz wrapped his arms around you and hauled you to your feet, his arm secure around your waist as he bowed to his audience-your audience. They began to applaud, some whistling, others throwing out lewd comments. Fizz pulled you into his side, the hand on your waist slipping just a little lower.

“Seems like we make a pretty good duo, dollface,” he rasped, showing off his pointed teeth in a lascivious grin that at your already weak knees nearly buckling. “Whaddya say we gi-gi-give them an encore?”