#it's still my own fault. it's still on me for not saying anything.

[astercontrol]

omg I have some complicated feelings about this.

so there's one comment in the notes about how "lazy" employees would refuse to send an email for customer convenience even though it would take "just 2 seconds" to send. Which... yeah, valid complaint

but it's more than just "laziness" on the part of employees (although there definitely are a lot of employees who have lost all empathy for what customers and patients are actually going through, and that's its own whole problem, and it's frustrating as hell for those employees who still do care).

It's also a systemic "laziness" on the part of corporations: a refusal to put certain things in their own employees' job descriptions and to allot enough staffing to do those things.

yes, at my pharmacy job it could take 2 seconds to send an email, IF there was an established template for emails and an easily accessible button to select, customize and send it for the patient who currently needs it. But if it isn't so seamlessly integrated into our job, it will require composing the email from scratch on our own.

Which still isn't a LOT of time and work… but, suppose it takes 1 minute. Then multiply by, say, 30 customers who need it done per day per employee (in a busy pharmacy day shift). That's 30 extra minutes of work for the employee who gets those 30 calls. Who, in many cases, is already assigned more work than physically possible to complete in a day, even skipping all breaks, and will be penalized for taking any overtime. If this extra email-sending is not explicitly a required part of the employee's job description, an already overworked employee is not likely to try and make time to do it.

Now, I'm the kind of employee who still does this sort of thing for patients who ask. And I did this even at my worst and most overworked jobs. Where it was thankless work, each individual case more likely to get me yelled at than praised by management (although, once I'd established it as an expectation customers had, I'd then also get yelled at for not doing it, by both customers and management, once the managers got the customer complaints). No-win situation for everyone.

Another source of frustration for the busier pharmacies I've worked in: The responsibility of calling for prescription transfers. Everyplace I've worked has had basically the same rule: If a patient wants to get a med transferred from one pharmacy to another, calling for it is the responsibility of the pharmacy that is to receive the prescription.

I think the reason is partly corporate self-interest ("no pharmacy takes on the extra work of making calls to give away their own customers to another pharmacy. The pharmacy getting the new business has to work for it.") But it's also probably an issue of responsibility for error-- if I call another pharmacy to transfer out a prescription because a patient told me to, I'm at fault if I've been given the wrong contact information and end up transferring it to the wrong pharmacy.

Or, if the patient hasn't even looked into whether the other pharmacy even CAN fill this prescription, they just think it'd be more convenient-- then, if I call the other pharmacy to transfer, they are likely to assume I know what I'm doing (especially if I get an entry-level, barely trained employee, as is often the case). They'll accept my word that they should be able to fill it. And then, if it ends up being something they don't sell, or an insurance they don't accept, THEN we've got the prescription stuck at a pharmacy that can't do anything with it, and it'll be another whole mess to get it back, and then it's my fault for not just leaving the work to the pharmacy that's invested in getting the new Rx.

In practice, though, the way it's done is ALSO an absolute mess.

At my busier former workplaces, it would go like this:

I pick up the phone. It's one of our current patients, calling to say they need their prescription transferred to another pharmacy. I tell them that they will have to call the other pharmacy to call us. They fight back, pointing out that this is extra work for everyone (because at that point, me calling the other pharmacy would be just one more call, whereas them calling the other pharmacy and having them call me would be two more calls.) I agree but reiterate that it's our policy. The patient hangs up. Then later-- assuming that those two calls out of my control actually went through-- our pharmacy will hear from the other one, and we'll start the transfer process.

BUT I'd better have made sure I added a clear note on the patient's profile about their earlier call, AND that my coworkers actually bother to look at the profile notes. Because, turns out that call wasn't just wasted time on the patient's part-- even though the patient may now think it was.

Because, if we don't have any record of the patient's earlier call, then whichever of my coworkers received the new call is now just getting a random out-of-nowhere call from another pharmacy asking us to give them one of our customers! And there've been issues with pharmacies that have done that without even having the patient's permission. SO we've got to call back again to confirm with the patient that they actually want this. It's the most excruciating game of phone tag and everyone involved totally hates it.

And this is before I even get into the subject of calls that involve doctors' offices or fucking insurance companies.

Which… no, I'm not going to get into that now. (crashes in exhaustion)

I think this is just a trend everywhere but I've been very frustrated this week by how much admin work is being outsourced to me as the patient/customer.

My orthodontist tells me I can make an appointment with the surgeon. I call the surgeon. They tell me I need a new referral. I call the orthodontist. They do a referral. I call the surgeon. Referral didn't come through. They tell me about their special unique system we have to use. I call the ortho again and walk them through the referral. I call the surgeon. They say the referral was missing some details so they have to do it again. I call the ortho.

The insurance company calls me about repair shops. I give them the name of the repair shop which I already gave them yesterday. They say they're not in their system but I can use them, but I have to call the repair shop to ask them to contact the insurance company. I call the repair shop and they say the insurance company is supposed to email them.

I feel like at a certain point these constant fetch quests become unreasonable?? Is it too much to expect these groups to communicate with each other instead of making me run back and forth between them???

[just-wrting]

Think I Like You

Title: Think I Like You

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Half Mink!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Master List

Summary: You try to figure out why Zoro won’t take you seriously even if the answer isn’t what you expect.

A/N: I’m not dead! I’m just all over the place with a lot of stuff. I sleep a lot which I can’t tell if it’s a sleep issue or a depression issue, but I’m always tired. I still work full time but also do school part time now. Plus I’ve still got a boyfriend! But he wanted to end this weekend on 1062 which means Zoro brainrot for me.

You stretch and roll over, burying your face into your pillow. Ever since you changed where you nap, you've started sleeping so much better. Something about being more comfortable or something like that. The actual reason doesn't really matter. You're just happy you're sleeping better.

"You owe me for this."

"I don't owe you shit. Not my fault you nap in my spot." You reach up and pat his cheek. "What do I need to do for you to be quiet?"

"I already told you, you owe me."

You open your eyes just a little. "What could I possibly owe you? I don't like to drink, I don't keep money, not to mention I can't even tell if you're the type of man to be swayed by physical charms. What could I possibly offer you, Roronoa?"

"For starters, you can start referring to me by my name like everyone else does." He looks pissed. "You should fight me."

"You didn't take me seriously last time, Moss Head. Why would I bother trying again?"

He pulls on your ear. "I said like everyone else, not like how that idiot says my name."

You ignore him and bury your nose in his stomach. Dinner has been started, and if you don't ignore it you'll end up going to the kitchen early. It's less that Sanji minds seeing you, it's more of the fact that you struggle to suppress the urge to knock shit off the counter and dip your fingers in the sauces. Such is the life of someone like you.

You let yourself doze a little. You can still hear what's going on, but just like every common house cat, you ignore it. What you can't ignore is the gentle scratching behind your ears. As far as you remember, no one has done this since you were a kid. You don't hate the feeling, but you start to feel flustered over it. Ever since you left home, you've made sure affection comes at your own terms so you haven't had this in years.

There's no point in asking him to stop. You're clearly fond enough of him to nap on him, what's the big deal about getting ear scratches? Besides, he's the type to get embarrassed and loud if you point out you're awake. That's not something you feel like dealing with right now. You're too touch starved to complain.

Despite the comfortable conditions, you don't actually fall asleep. You spend the next forty-ish minutes pretending to sleep, waiting for dinner to be done. The time passes by relatively quickly, though you're sore afterwards. You couldn't bring yourself to even twitch, worried that he'd stop.

The dinner call goes off, and you pretend to wake up. You have no clue why you're acting, but it was too late to stop twenty minutes ago. Standing up, you stretch halfheartedly. At first, he doesn't say anything. It's only once he catches up to you that he starts asking questions.

"What's the deal with the noise you make?"

Raising an eyebrow, you look at him. "I don't snore, so I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm not stupid, I can tell you aren't snoring. The other noise, the one that's relaxing. I can usually feel it when you're laying directly on me."

"What do you mean? The other noise?" You pause to think it over before it clicks. "We aren't talking about that."

You know what he's referring to. It's not like it's something you can control, but it's still embarrassing. Of all people to be you around, it's been Zoro. No one on the crew has judged you for being what you are, it's just embarrassing to be a mix. Your mother's human, and your dad's a mink. You look decently human, just with a few quirks.

"What do you mean, we aren't talking about it? We're talking about it right now."

Your face starts to heat up. "I mean I don't want to tell you."

His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Why not? Is it supposed to be embarrassing or something?"

"If I say yes, will you drop it?"

"Yeah, sure."

His face instantly relaxes. If you could smack him, you would. The last time you tried, it hurt. So you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a push. The only thing it does is cause his other shoulder to hit the doorframe, but you use it to march past him.

You take your seat, leaning back against the armrest of the booth seat. Kicking your feet up on the space next to you, you watch the crew carefully. Everyone is smiling and in a good mood, so you don't have anything to worry about. You don't ever admit it, but you care about them even if it's difficult to show.

Zoro picks up your legs and lays them in his lap. Since it doesn't seem to bother him, you're tempted to just sit normally. You have no idea what's going on in that head of his, and you doubt he does either. However, you actually do enjoy touching him, so you'll stay like this for now.

There's more commotion as Sanji brings out the plates. The one you're most interested in is a large tuna fillet that gets set in the middle of the table. You can't stop staring at it, the tender flesh a beautiful golden color. It's hard to tell if it smells better than it looks or looks better than it smells. Sanji has never failed to impress you with his dishes, so you can't wait to sink your teeth in.

Before you can even start to load your plate, Sanji sets a small plate in front it you. It contains a disk of packed rice, some avocado slices, and chunks of fish. You're assuming it's more of the tuna. Whatever it is, it was made specifically for you.

You don't mind the special dishes. You'll try almost everything, and unlike Luffy, you'll eat it slow enough to give a review. Everything tastes good so you don't get the point, but it probably makes Sanji feel better to have honest reviews and not just someone who loves food fawning over his cooking. Though if you're not careful, you worry that he'll start having write an essay about it.

"And for you, a special tune tartare! If you like it, I'll make it again for everyone some time."

You nod. "Yeah, I'll let you know. I always do. Not that you've ever made a bad dish."

You can't stop the tip of your tail from flicking back and forth in mild annoyance. By the time you get halfway through the tartare, all of the fillet is gone. It's not like it's the biggest deal, you just wish you could've had some of that too. It's not fair that since you got a special tuna dish, that you don't get the other one.

"If you tell me what that noise was, I'll share," Zoro teases while pointing at you with a bite of tuna. "I bet you can't resist answering now."

"I'm a cat. I was making a normal noise that cats make. Consider it a compliment."

You lean forward and take the bite of tuna. It's flakey and melts on your tongue with a slightly sticky glaze that has hints of honey and garlic. You lick your lips savoring the balance of flavors. None of them are overwhelming, but it's hard to gauge in just one bite what you think about it.

"You can't just," Zoro stutters. "You can't just take the food off of my chopsticks. Get your own!"

You grab his wrist and lick the glaze off of the chopsticks. It feels like there's another flavor there that you can't quite tell what it is. It's some sort of herby flavor, that while you enjoy, you can't pin down.

"Here!" Zoro doesn't look at you as he shoves his plate towards you. "Just take it since I don't want your germs."

You want to tease him, but you'll leave him alone. It's better to leave it in front of other people since Robin's insinuations are becoming too much. For now you'll just eat the food. Later, you'll tease him.

—-

"You're still not taking me seriously, Roronoa. Why did you want to fight if you won't take me seriously?"

You lunge, hand reaching for his throat. He blocks it with his arm, causing your claws to dig into his skin. Using his arm as leverage, you pull yourself closer to him, swinging your sword at his side. His parry is effortless, and he looks bored. It's so aggravating that he won't take you seriously in a simple sparring match. Perhaps he'd take you more seriously if you actually tried to kill him.

You disengage before leaping over him. This time, you swing your sword at his neck as he turn around. It's once more blocked, and he smirks. You're just barely faster than him as he takes a halfhearted swing at your sword arm with his other arm. You catch the flat of the blade with your knuckles, steeling your arm against the shock wave of the blow.

Kicking your leg out in front of you, you aim for his knees, intending to bring him down. Despite the grip on his sword, he catches your ankle in his hand and pulls your leg to the side. You let your body pivot with the movement, twisting until your leg is behind you. You yank your foot forward as hard as you can, pulling him into your back.

He's quick to let your ankle go and grab your shoulder to steady himself. In a fluid motion, you swing your arm and grab your dagger. You flick it in your fingers and thrust towards his ribs. His hand trails down your arm to your wrist and pins it behind your back. He gives it a squeeze trying to get you to drop the dagger.

"Are you actually trying to kill him?" Nami tells from the side. "Are you stupid?"

You roll your eyes, sweeping your leg behind you and hooking Zoro's. Despite your efforts, you can't get him off balance, only causing him to take a step back. By now you're getting pissed off. You aren't a bad swordsman, it's just that this jerk is ridiculously smart in battle. This is probably the only time he'll use his brain all day.

You jerk your head back, hitting his jaw. The sound of the impact makes you regret it, knowing you'll feel like shit later. You manage to free yourself as he loosens his grip, and you elbow him as you twist back around. The only reason you're still going is because he won't take it seriously. It's like he finds it funny that he's able to fend you off so easily.

You rush towards him, tossing your weapons to the ground. Digging your claws into his shoulders, you use your momentum to knock him over. It only works because he's too busy rubbing his jaw to notice you in time. The two of you tumble to the deck, and you lean in as close as you can.

"Why won't you take me seriously? Is this just a game?"

Faster than you can blink, he's able to flip and pin you under him. He's even more smug than the last time you sparred, and you can't tell if you want to smack him or if you should kiss him. Not that you could smack him, he's got your hands above your head. While kissing him would let you win, you're not willing to fight that dirty in a friendly match.

"You're a brute, Zoro. You can't just manhandle the other crewmates just because you feel like it." Sanji pulls him off you. "If you were in the mood to fight I would've taken the offer."

You tune out their fight as Chopper checks your head and shoulder. You're a bit sore now, but you'll be fine in a few hours. Nothing keeps you down for long, even if it's usually just you going against the doctor's orders. The only thing actually bothering you is the fact that for a moment you thought he was going to answer your question. Though the fact you thought about kissing him is also an issue.

It's not difficult to figure out why you thought that way. Your parents made sure that you knew to find someone strong enough to protect you in case of something happening, even if you knew how to take care of yourself. That, and he's easy on the eyes. Even if he's an idiot half of the time, that doesn't matter. Your parents never said to find a smart man, just a strong one. Everything else was your choice.

Chopper hands you a damp towel, and you use to clean under your claws. Tiny spots of blood rest under them, probably from when you grabbed Zoro. If the pinprick wounds bothered him, he doesn't show it. He's too busy trying to shove Sanji off the boat. As long as you stay dry, it doesn't matter if they end up overboard. They can both swim.

After a few minutes, Nami separates them. You watch her glare at the men before you stalk off to take another nap. The sun is just starting to dip below the water, so finding a nice patch of sun to lick your figurative wounds isn't possible. You'll have to settle for sulking in some weird spot. Perhaps it's time to torment the fish in the tank once more.

Lounging on the sofa is probably the second best place to nap. The sound of the tank constantly humming while you watch the fish swim in tempting circles puts you at ease. You stretch out fully, let your arm and tail hang off the edge. The tip of your tails twitches slightly as you trace the movement of a particularly large bass. That should be tomorrow's lunch, perhaps in a stew. Even though it hasn't been long since you had food, your mouth starts to water at the idea of seafood stew.

"He really doesn't take you seriously, does he?"

You recognize Robin before she even speaks. Her stride is longer than Nami's with her steps being lighter than everyone else's. Not to mention she smells floral. It's never overpowering, but it allows you to pick her out from the crew.

"I guess not. Maybe I should've gone for his other eye."

She laughs, sitting down next to you. You aren't opposed to the company, especially if it's Robin. There something about her that puts you at ease.

"I don't think he'd like that," she muses. "What did he say to you?"

You scoff. "He didn't say anything. Bet he's too proud to take me seriously, like the jerk he is."

Robin smiles knowingly. "I'm sure he has his reasons. Maybe you should talk to him, just the two of you. I'm sure he'd tell you when no one else is around."

You frown. "What is he? A shy school boy? There's only one reason for not taking me seriously in a fight, and it would be him not thinking I'm even worth it. No point in having him tell me that in private, he can just keep it to himself."

She reaches out her hand, gently brushing your hair from your eyes. "Then what do you think about him?"

"I think he's an idiot who swapped out his brain for more muscles."

"Let me rephrase that. What feelings do you have about him?" There's a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "At least figure that out."

You shift so you can place your head in her lap. "I guess he's fine most of the time. I don't know why I enjoy his company, I just do. He's never really pushed me on anything, just sort of letting me do my own thing. Not to mention he's comfortable. As much as I hate admitting it, I suppose I like being around him."

She continues to brush your hair with her fingers silently. It's one of those tactics of hers. She'll stay quiet until you keep talking.

"What do you want me to say? He's nice enough to me, I can respect him as vice-captain, and he's decent looking. Everything else I think about him is my little secret." You're starting to get irritated talking about him. "Actually, I think I'll go talk to him now. I'll drag that answer out of him if I have to."

Robin looks at you with worry as you sit up. "Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding. What are you going to do if his answer isn't what you expect?"

"I'll deal with it when it happens," you say with a shrug. "It's not like it'll be anything surprising."

You take your time wandering around the ship. It's not hard to tell where he is, you'd rather put it off for a little bit longer. This weird feeling in your chest has been bothering you a lot lately. It can't be ignored anymore, but that doesn't mean you're one hundred percent ready to admit it.

Thankfully, he's exactly where you knew he was. You won't tell him that you enjoy finding him when he's working out. Something about him being shirtless is nice. Not that he usually bothers with wearing a shirt, so you can usually just stare whenever you want. Maybe he just likes the attention, and you'll gladly give it to him.

As soon as he leans back on the bench, you sit on his lap and stretch out over his torso. You rest your chin on your hand, pressing your palm on his chest. Watching as he sets the barbell back on the stand, you wait for him to start talking. It would be fine with you if he kept working out, but he seems opposed to the idea.

"Is bothering me amusing to you?"

You tilt your head slightly. "You're not cute when you're mad, so no. I was just hoping we could talk."

"You don't have to sit on me to talk."

"That's just personal preference. Besides, you tend to avoid talking about certain things and this keeps you from leaving." you say with a Cheshire grin. "I enjoy your touch, so this is ideal for me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zoro looks away from you. “You keep saying weird stuff.”

You don’t even blink as you respond, “I enjoy your touch. That’s what that means. I’ll even be nice and tell you the answer to your question from earlier. As a cat, I sometimes purr when I feel comfortable and content. Though some cats purr when scared.”

“So you’re scared of me? Is that what that means?”

“No. The only thing particularly scary about you is the fact that you’re an idiot.” Your ears twitch. “But since I answered your questions, you can answer mine. Why don’t you fight me seriously?”

He looks at you for just a moment, before looking at the ceiling. It’s like he’s embarrassed by the answer and is hoping you’ll forget about it. However, you’ve already made up your mind about what you want. You’re just waiting to see what he’ll do.

“I-,” Zoro cuts himself off to hide behind his hand. “I could hurt you really bad. That would be bad.”

Your tail swishes on the ground in mild irritation. “So you think I’m incapable of defending myself. That would explain the times you’ve interrupted my fights.”

“It’s not that!” He sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don’t tumble to the ground. “I don’t want you to get hurt if I’m around. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”

You’re nose to nose with him now. Even at this distance, he can’t seem to make eye contact. You can smell the liquor from dinner on his breath. It would be so easy to close the gap and kiss him, but for some reason the thought makes you nervous. You’re usually close to him, so why is this time different?

“Why should you keep me safe?” you mumble. “Do you save me out of obligation for the crew? If so, aren’t there better people on the crew to swoop in and save?”

“Does it matter why?” The way that his lips almost touch yours as he speaks makes you flustered.

You close your eyes. “Yes. I don’t want to get my hopes up if you think of me as nothing more than a burden of a crew-mate. Just be honest with me for once, Zoro.”

You don’t regret the soft begging tone as you say his name. You regret not saying his name in that almost pathetic tone sooner. The way that he kisses you makes your head spin. Even though he’s holding you close, you have to wrap your arms around his neck to make yourself feel more steady.

Zoro kisses you like he’s been wanting to for months. His hold on your waist makes it impossible to move, and the way that his hand grips yours hair makes you moan. You can barely breathe as his tongue explores your mouth, your grip on reality slipping as his fingers dig into thigh.

Even when he pulls away to let you breathe, you find yourself lost in the way he touches you. Sloppy kisses trail down your jaw and neck, coming to an end with his teeth on your collarbone. The way that his fingernails scrape gently against your scalp as he tugs lightly on your hair causes you to expose more of your chest to him as you lean into his palm.

You’ve never felt like this before. Hot, heavy, and breathless all while being lightheaded. You wouldn’t have it in you to resist him if he wanted more. In fact, the pathetic words of begging him to ravish you weigh heavy on your tongue. Yet he just continues to press kisses along every inch of skin exposed to him, ignoring how hard you’re panting as little moans escape you. He’s oblivious to everything but the act of kissing you.

Zoro only pauses after you tug his hair harshly. You didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help the reaction to him biting down on the side of your neck. You couldn’t even help the strangled groan that leaves you as he leaves a mark. For some reason, your body is shaking like you have some sort of withdrawal.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice rough and low.

You kiss him again, desperate to get as close as you can. Desperation courses through your body as you realize just how badly you’ve waited for this. You’ve spent months being almost attached to him so it makes sense, you just can’t figure out how you missed it. The long nights spent curled up in his lap, face buried in his neck has left you craving him so much.

You whine as he pulls away, unwilling to let this stop. It doesn’t even matter anymore how prideful you’ve been up until this. It’s so obvious how much you want him. Nothing could hide it anymore.

“Zoro.” You don’t even open your eyes. “Please.”

He gives your thigh a tight squeeze as you whimper. You can tell that what little restraint he has is fading with each whine of his name. Yet he’s able to pause and hold you close, breathing heavily into your ear. Eventually, he covers your mouth with his hand, stifling your words.

“Not like this,” Zoro says, his tone meaning he’s serious. “If you really want it, I want to make it special.”

“S-special?” You don’t know what that means. When was the last time someone told you that you were special? “How?”

“Just better than in the exercise room on the Sunny. You deserve to be treated better than that.”

You nod, and he lets his grip loosen. Despite the fact that nothing much happened, you feel drained. Maybe it’s because you really enjoy naps, but the exhaustion is hitting you hard. You don’t hide it, letting yourself go limp as Zoro picks you up.

“You can sleep in my bunk tonight. Not that it matters if I say you can as you usually show up anyway.”

You caress him jaw before giving his cheek a kiss. “Thank you, Zoro.”

The flush on his cheeks goes unnoticed by all beside you. Not that it matters, you don’t want to hide your feelings for him any longer. If he agrees to it, you’ll parade your feelings for the world to see.

[theocddiaries]

Amy: What you two need to do to smooth things over is talk. With an impartial third party guiding you with a little bit of psychology. So come on, let's start. Sonic, say something you like about Shadow. Sonic: He's kind. Very level-headed. Trustworthy. He brings calm wherever he goes. Shadow: …Thank you, Sonic. Amy: Good. Shadow? Shadow: Hm… Well, he's… Good-hearted, even at his own detriment. He’s funny. He always tries to include everyone. He makes people feel comfortable. Sonic: Thanks, Shads. Amy: See? Saying those things is important. Just like accepting criticism. Why don't you start this time, Shadow? What's something about Sonic that you don't like? Shadow: Well… when I ask him if he wants something to eat and he says no, but then he starts picking at my plate… Sonic: It's true, I do that. I say I don’t feel like eating, but then I see the food and I can’t resist. Sorry. Shadow: It’s fine. I’m starting to remember to grab you a separate plate with a little bit of everything. Sonic: Okay, my turn. Hmm… I don’t like when you move my things around. I can never find anything. Shadow: Well, that’s not really moving things around, it’s called organizing, but okay, I accept the criticism. Amy: See? That’s healthy communication and-- Sonic: Since you’re accepting criticism so well, what about never admitting you're wrong? Like now. Amy: Sonic, wait, we’ve-- Shadow: I was actually being gracious because I don’t want to start a fight. Amy: Shadow, I was talking-- Sonic: I've got another one, you keep everything to yourself and then people have to guess what’s wrong with you. Shadow: You surely aren't talking about yourself in that scenario, considering you spend all day with your head in the clouds. Maybe that’s why you’re confused, saying I move your things when all I do is put them in a drawer instead of leaving them on the floor. Amy: Guys, we’re drifting off-topic a little-- Sonic: Look, if you need to micro-manage everything because you’ve got a trauma the size of Greenland, it’s not my fault, okay? Shadow: I do not micro-manage. Sonic: Come on, everything has to be as you wish. Shadow: If that were true, the trash wouldn't still be there. When are you going to take it out? Sonic: When I feel like it because this is my house. If I want to leave it there until it grows legs and throws itself out, I will! Shadow: Now you can afford the luxury call this a house; before I got here, this place was a mess! Sonic: No. Before you got here, this place was a peaceful haven! Shadow: A peaceful haven full of crap. You’ve got the closets as decoration, you big lazy! Amy: Okay guys, let’s breathe-- Sonic: Maybe I'm just tired of coming home and seeing you with that damn scowl all day, bitter idiot! Shadow: Maybe I’m pissed off all day because you don’t do anything! Sonic: I don't do anything because according to you I do everything wrong, Mr I-don't-micromanage! Just tell me what you want and I'll do it! Shadow: Right now, what I want is for you to leave! Sonic: No, you leave, you’re the one who’s a problem wherever you go! Shadow: Gladly! [stands up and walks toward the door] Sonic: Oh no no! I’m leaving, so you can't act like a martyr! [leaves the house too] [Amy pinches the bridge of her nose while they’re still heard arguing in the hallway.] Shadow: Stop following me, idiot! Sonic: I’m not following you, you paranoid, I’m going in the elevator! Shadow: Of course you’re taking the elevator! Lazy! Sonic: Go ahead and take the whole staircase, you selfish! Knuckles [comes out of the kitchen with a sandwich, having heard everything]: Damn, is this therapy? Making things worse? People spend money on such things… or maybe you're just really bad at this. Amy [throws a pillow at him] Knuckles: Ow! [sarcastically]: Amy, accepting criticism is important, Amy.

This could be like the prologue of this and this tbh

[dahlibae]

your blog is sooo 🫠🥵 so good!!!!

Jealous sugar mommy Wanda has been so on my brain!! Every event you go to she makes sure you look stunning but it’s always an excuse to make sure people stare and flirt so that she can haul your ass out to the car and punish you. Just to take you back in with your head hanging blushing and sore as you try to socialize now. Just. Yes.

warning(s) — drabble: mommy wanda, brat!reader, kissing, punishment, spanking, choking (18+)

AHHH THANK UUUU SWEETIE :P

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

i won’t lie i’ve been thinking about mommy wanda and how she wouldn’t tolerate brattiness. or back chat. or any kind of attitude towards her. like at all. 100%… but pushing buttons would be soo much fun, especially when you know all you’d have to do is bat your lashes at someone in front of mommy, and she’ll have you spread over her lap in no time lmaoo.

at first, i think she wouldn’t go so hard on you though just bc you like to “bat your slutty eyes at anyone with cleavage” as she would put it. but it would be the fact you don’t cave into submission after she’s already told you off for your behaviour.

it would drive her mental.

you would say something simple like: “well at least she’d treat me like her gf and not a show pony” or even worse, “bet she’d probably fuck me better too” bc let’s face it, at these events wanda has to be all serious and more than often if she doesn’t need you to win her favours she leaves you to your own devices. it’s not rlly your fault you’ve managed to find someone else to keep you company.

but that is exactly what would do it for the older woman.

and the fact that she’s already spanked your ass red and yet you still have an attitude.

she’d push you off her lap and head for the drivers seat, not saying a word to you and not waiting for you to climb into the passenger seat. she’d just drive home as fast as she could without care if you were in the back or the front or even the roof of the vehicle.

even after you arrived home, she wouldn’t say anything, immediately heading to the kitchen to pour another drink. the silence would kill you, and you knew you were in deeper shit than you wanted. it was supposed to be just a little fun, something to rile her up. not exactly hurt her… so to make it up to mommy, you’d go upstairs and undress before kneeling on the bed waiting for her to join.

when she finally arrived upstairs, you could tell she had began unzipping her dress. her eyes were cold and drifted over your bare frame before heading towards the wardrobe where she watched herself in the mirror as she slid the dress off her frame.

“you know… i got all dolled up just for you baby.” she’d caress at her sides as you took in the sight of the red lace against her alabaster skin,“wanted to take you home after tonight and show you how much i love it when you’re a good girl for me.”

okay so… not upset. but maybe homicidal?

she looked like she wanted to eat you alive.

the dress left in a pile on the floor, she’d now stand in front of you, delicate fingers trailing over your sensitive nipples, licking her lips as she watched your skin shiver underneath her. absentmindedly, you’d raise your hands to grab onto her hips, fingers immediately reaching for the protruding bones of her pelvis you just love to kiss and bite and suck…and that snaps her out of her trance as she steps away from you.

that look of adoration she usually has on her face now replaced with the cold one from before. she’d step back into you, this time crowding your space, as her hand wraps around your throat, and she tips your head back to meet hers. you’d look so adorable, flustered with a little pout on your lips that she’d have no choice but to press few kisses, demanding entrance so she could suck on your tongue, before refocusing on the task at hand.

you had been such a bad girl for her.

and wanda doesn’t like when her girl misbehaves.

“oh baby,” she’d release your lips with a loud smack, “it’s too bad mommy now has to beat the brat out of you, huh?”

[cas-kingdom]

For the sentence prompts! Hope you are doing well Cas💜!

Begging for forgiveness was the only option at this point

A/N: Used the sentence at the end instead!

When Mark burst into the chief’s office, you had your top half hanging off the sofa, a lollipop in your mouth. You stared at him upside-down for about five seconds while you waited for him to speak.

“Mark Sloan is having a baby,” he finally announced, a very slight edge to his voice.

You blinked, then heaved yourself up and turned towards him.

“Y/N says congrats,” you said, your words garbled around the sweet in your mouth.

Mark reacted immediately. He shut the door and pointed an accusatory finger straight at you. “Don’t play coy with me. I know it was you.”

"Me?"

"You started the godawful rumour suddenly floating around the hospital!"

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” With expert skill and practice, you sat back and crossed your arms over your chest. When Mark’s glare intensified, because you absolutely had an idea of what he was talking about, a corner of your lips quirked upwards and you pulled the lollipop from your mouth. “Maybe you should go back to your baby mama.”

Mark chuckled dangerously and rubbed his hands together. “Y/N, sweetheart. Peanut. Little worm. You’re dead.”

He made a move, lurching towards you, and youstood on the couch, brandishing the lollipop like a weapon. “Hey. Hey! Now you know what it feels like!”

“What what feels like?”

“It’s your own fault for making it so believable!”

“What what feels like, Y/N?”

“To have your life ruined!”

Mark scoffed. “This is because I put dye in your shampoo? Temporary dye, Y/N, it was temporary dye!”

“My hair was green for a week!”

“Everyone said it suited you!”

“Because you told everyone it was my choice!” You narrowed your eyes at him as he put his hands on his hips. “I’m not sorry. I’m never gonna be sorry. You’re a dad now, congratulations. Hope you’re a better father than you are a fake uncle.”

The surgeon’s jaw dropped. “Okay, now, that one hurt.”

“Not as much as your penis hurt when your baby mama broke it for getting her pregnant.”

Mark's eyes widened. He’d thought the pregnancy rumour was enough—God knew he’d had his fill of those—but there was more? Really, he should have expected it. This was Y/N Shepherd he was talking about. The only person who could one up him.

Suddenly forgetting his quest for revenge, Mark thrust his face in his palms and slumped down on a chair by the desk. “Anything else I need to know about?” he mumbled, wincing in anticipation of the answer.

Before you could smugly offer one, the door opened once again to reveal Richard. His eyes quickly roved the room before landing on Mark. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why am I being told you’re taking extended paternity leave when the twins have barely been conceived?" There was a brief silence before: "Congratulations, by the way.”

You snorted.

Mark groaned.

Richard rose a brow. “Or…commiserations?”

Mark turned wide, befuddled eyes on him. "Webber, you think it’s true?”

Richard, perplexed, glanced between you and Mark. “It’s not?”

“No!”

Richard shrugged. “Congratulations, then.” He left the room only to pop his head back in a second later. “So, your…”

“Is all in working order!”

“Right. Bye.”

Mark turned to look at you, a gleam in his eye that you recognised all too well. You bit your bottom lip, still standing on the couch. “I told you it’s your own fault for making it so believable.”

He stared. Hard. Then, in about a second, he vaulted himself towards you. You clumsily leapt over the back of the couch with a squeal, falling to the floor with a thud but not caring in the slightest as you scrambled to make your escape.

“You wanna tell me who I’m having these twins with?” Mark asked, making a wild grab for you and snagging the hood of your sweater.

“A cafeteria lady! You thought her buns were top notch!”

Begging for forgiveness was the only option at this point.

Grey’s Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

[hurtspideyparker]

For a request how about a fluffy winterhawk doing shopping to refill their first aid kit? I imagine between the two of them it sees a lot of use.

The pair walk at a leisurely pace in the 24 hour CVS.

There's a number of odd characters, including themselves, but that's what they get for shopping at 2 am. There's the goth cashier, a man in an oddly tall cowboy hat, a couple of teenagers messing around in the chip section, and of course the two Avengers with blooming bruises from the fight they just finished. Which is really not their fault. I mean, who does crime after midnight? Bad people, probably.

"Wanna get some ice cream?" Clint asks while tossing some frozen peas into the basket Bucky is carrying.

"I don't think we'll have enough room."

"Come on man, one Ben & Jerry's isn't gonna break the bank."

"One, really? For both of us? You threw a spoon at my head last time I poked in your pint. I just wanted to try the flavour."

Clint thinks on that.

"Hm, you're right, you're right. We'll do a wrap around at the end and I'll just carry it."

They leave the icy doors and head straight for the first aid aisle. They spot the gauze and bandages first, taking a moment to analyze the different brands, sizes, and types, before Clint takes an arm to the shelf and swipes the entire thing into their basket. Bucky nods approvingly before speaking up.

"This is your fault y'know, you procrastinate."

Clint scoffs, "I'll have you know it was your week to do the shopping."

"The first aid kit's been empty since last week, when you sprained your wrist. Remember when you tried using a compression sock as a wrap. Also, you're bleeding on the flyers."

Clint looks down at the paper. That indeed is his blood. Another drop falls from his nose onto the shelf, "oop, my bad." He grabs Bucky's sweatshirt and uses the corner to wipe up the blood.

Bucky rolls his eyes and grabs a box of band-aids off the next shelf.

"Just for that I'm getting you the hello kitty ones," Bucky pulls out an evil looking purple bunny and then tosses the box into the basket.

He peels it open and places the bandage with care over the bridge of the archer's nose.

"Joke's on you, Kuromi fits my colour scheme."

Bucky stares at him blankly for a moment.

"I speak 7 languages and yet I still manage to not understand you in your native one, which is honestly more impressive."

"Why thank you," Clint gives a cocksure smile.

They move along, tossing in some medical tape, 4 types of pain meds in giant bulk containers, and heat packs.

Bucky picks up a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Woah man, that stuff isn't right for you anymore. It's all about good ol' soap and water now. Don't you keep up with medical news?"

"No, and I doubt you do." he says with a raised brow.

"Okay fine, Bruce told me, but still."

While Bucky doesn't trust anything Clint finds online, he does trust Bruce Banner, so he puts the bottle down.

"Vaseline's in the beauty aisle, brb."

Clint jogs around the corner and Bucky calls out to his back, "stop saying abbreviations out loud!"

Bucky continues wandering on his own, collecting a few random things into the quickly filling basket.

"Incoming!" Bucky doesn't even react as a jar of Vaseline and some tweezers come flying over the shelving and land perfectly on the pile.

Bucky isn't even in his original spot anymore, how did—nope, not going there. If he asks, he'll just get told "because I'm fucking Hawkeye," with that stupid charming smirk that secretly gives him cuteness aggression.

Bucky Barnes does not get cuteness aggression.

He turns around the corner the same time Clint steps back in front of him.

"Hiya, did you miss me?"

"No," Bucky says, placing a little kiss on Clint's lips.

"Aw, you totally did." Clint fists Bucky's top and pulls him in for another kiss.

The man goes easily, melting into the familiar taste of copper and the sting in his lip from where someone hit him in the face with the butt of their rifle. The stubble is an even more familiar roughness, closer to a tickle. Clint pulls back with a salacious pop, bringing his thumb up to wipe away the spare saliva in the corner of Bucky's mouth.

They hear a strong tone of throat clearing nearby, looking up to see cowboy hat staring at them in disgust with a cart full of dog food.

"Evening sir," Clint waves, then gives a little tip of his imaginary hat. The man just shakes his head then needs moving.

"C'mon, get your ice cream and lets go."

Clint acquiesces, reluctantly pulling away from Bucky's warmth.

After getting the promised ice cream they head straight for the self checkout. The last time they went to a cashier-only pharmacy to restock their first aid they got stared at like they were planning on cutting up the cashier and selling her kidneys (the sewing kit really didn't help), so dumping the pile of gauze away from the employees prying eyes saves them from talking to the cops.

The receipt takes ages to print, Clint grabbing more and more of it like a magician pulling scarves from a hat.

"Babe, will you tie me up with the CVS receipt and do dirty, dirty things to me later?"

Bucky huffs out a laugh and pushes at the other's shoulder, "shut up freak."

Cowboy hat decides to pull up to a nearby checkout just at that very moment, freezing and sending the pair a look like he's personally casting them to the depths of hell.

Clint turns to him, a mischievous smirk that could mean nothing good.

"Sir, would you tie me up with this CVS receipt and—"

Bucky clamps a hand over the man's lips and forcibly drags him out of the building.

[flightnight]

I need help understanding Sunday.

I feel that there's a rift between how the game expects me to see him and how I actually see him. Would anybody be so kind as to help me clarify these two points?

1. What did he ever say or do that would indicate that he realizes that he ever did something wrong? Bonus points for addressing his core harmful misconception that led him to become a villain to begin with.

2. Which of his actions do you consider admirable?

Explanation of why exactly I have problems with these points below the cut:

1. His whole thing during the Penacony arc was that, in his opinion, people shouldn't be trusted to live their miserable lives by themself; they'll only hurt themself. Everybody (including Robin) is too weak, and he's the only one who's strong. So they should be forever imprisoned in the perfect boring dream their benevolent lord and savior Sunday created for them. From what I understand, he was going to start with Penacony and then imprison the whole universe under his absolute control. Okay, great, typical "morally grey" villain motivation, very well explained, no problem here.

Most of the characters, as well as, hopefully, the player, understand that it's the wrong thing to do. Nice motive, still evil.

My question is: what are the things he said or did since we defeated him that indicate that he's changed? Does he ever admit or imply that he did anything wrong? That human lives are precious no matter how miserable and flawed they are in his opinion? and how valuable freedom is? How strong can people be?

Because so far I only see the opposite: instead of indicating that he was wrong, he doubled down. He literally told us that he's going to do some research and try again.

I don't know, maybe I blinked and missed him getting in a situation where he has to confront his misconceptions.

I had very low expectations. I expected "I might have done something bad, but I might be persuaded to forgive myself," or "it wasn't me, it was my evil past self," or "it was somebody else's fault," or "I might have tried to take over the world, but look, I helped a grandma cross the road, so that's okay now.". All of these would be bad. And we kind of get a tiny bit of all of these, but only as vague vibes.

I saw people saying that he helped Tingyun for free, and it shows that he's changed. Are people implying that he was so morally repugnant that he wouldn't have helped somebody for free before? Even I don't think so. Is basic human decency an achievement for him now?

His problem wasn't that he didn't care about fixing other people's lives. It was exactly the opposite!

That's exactly the kind of thing he shouldn't be doing as a show of how much he changed.

A moment of growth for him would be if he realized that another person is strong enough to solve their problems by themselves, without his involvement.

Let's look at other antagonists turned playable characters.

Bronya's main motivation is to save her people. Her misconception—she has faith in her mother. She faces the fact that her mother isn't the person she came to love and respect.

Topaz's main motivation is to help Jarilo-VI survive. Her misconception—she thinks that being owned by the IPC is the only way for them to survive. She faces the fact that the people of Jarilo-VI are strong enough to survive by themselves.

Sunday's main motivation is to save people from suffering. His misconception—it's only possible if he imprisons them in a dream controlled by him. Does he ever face the realization that he was wrong? I don't care how many Tingyuns he helped, his problem wasn't that he was unwilling to help people. IT WAS KIND OF THE OPPOSITE!!!

And later on, when he kind of helps us, it does nothing to address his core misconception, the thing his whole personality is built around.

He's not a generic bad guy who can redeem himself by becoming a generic good guy! You can't write a complex character and then completely neuter him in his supposed "redemption arc!"

2. What did he do that's worth admiring?

And I think DH's "about Sunday" line indicates how we are supposed to see his return:

"Whether he can achieve his dream or not, being able to let go of everything and start again is already admirable enough."

(btw I'd like to remind you that his dream was to imprison the whole universe. And he wasn't "able" to bravely let go of everything. He was forced to. By being defeated by us. Hello!!!)

What did Sunday even do? Nearly turned Penacony back into a prison again. Got hit by a train. Lost a boss fight (as a boss). Got saved by Robin. Got what he deserved and what he tried to do to others—imprisonment. Threw a hissy fit, got immediately saved by Robin again, and was freed by Jade. Got accidentally split in two. Told Robin to touch the grass. Graciously allowed us to give him a lift.

DH, which of those do you find admirable???? How bravely did he overcome being a villain?

What would we expect a lesser, not so "admirable" person to do in his place? And he hardly even had any agency in most of these events.

Let's look at other characters again. Firefly apologized for lying to us. Topaz and Bronya admitted that they were wrong and backed off. They made a conscious decision to stop what they were doing after realizing they were wrong. They weren't forced to stop by just being defeated in a boss fight and imprisoned. That's admirable. What did Sunday do that's admirable?

And what about Welt's "about Sunday":

"Having an ideal and pursuing it is not rare, but being able to start anew after that ideal is shattered—this kind of willpower will carry him far."

Gramps, the last time we had to hit him with a train several times to stop his willpower from "carrying him far", wdym?

And I'm sure the game's writers are planning to give him more to do later, maybe dragging him through some long overdue character development (I mean, why else are we carrying this piece of cardboard they turned him into with us to Amphoreus?) Because 15 hours of monologue during Pencaony, plus 5 more hours during his triumphant return, clearly wasn't enough. All these new upcoming characters will move over to give Sunday 10 more hours of pretentious monologue.

But on the brighter side, things like this make me appreciate the previous instances of bad writing. At least Firefly apologized. At least Topaz admitted that she was wrong.

And there is one thing that tells me that I'm not the only one having problems with this. It's the fact that in most dialogues there are options to be mean and distrustful of him.

[starstruckodysseys]

may i request fabian and fig and ‘were designed to be disposable’ >:)) /nf

- @transgenderfabianseacaster

ignore if this is out of character i don’t write fh as often as i should… i love these two so much though actually so thank u for this

“I really don’t think it’s that deep,” Fig tries, not for the first time, and there’s a laugh buried somewhere in there but Fabian’s been pacing the hospital hallway for too long for it to really be a joke, by now.

“You don’t understand, Fig,” he says, throwing his hands in the air. He hasn’t looked at her for the past fifteen minutes. “We’re designed to be disposable. This is the end.”

It hits her like a punch to the gut, harsher than any of the spell hits she’s taken. Which is— it’s ridiculous, right? She knows it is, knows it’s just Fabian being dramatic, but there’s that nagging feeling in her chest, the one that’s been there since and even before the Nightmare Forest, telling her everyone’s going to leave and it’s going to be her fault because she isn’t good enough.

And she knows, alright? She knows it’s stupid, that her friends love her and Ayda would find her in any lifetime and she’s working on her relationships with her parents. Unfortunately, knowing is not the same as processing, and facts don’t make the fear suddenly disappear.

And it sucks! It sucks so much, because she tries to grin and keep her head up and ignore the thoughts, but sometimes… sometimes it’s really hard.

Something in her face must fall, because Fabian finally looks at her, eye going wide when he takes in her expression. “I mean— you know, it’s—”

“It’s fine, Fabes,” she says with a grin and a wave of her hand. She means it, to an extent. It’s just her own brain that’s the issue.

He stops, finally, leans against the wall with something that might be a sigh. “I’m not worried,” he says, in a tone that does not do him any favors, “I just don’t think they’re… ready. I mean, Gilear? Really?”

Fig laughs. “C’mon, don’t be so hard on him,” she says, even as she swallows down the bitter thought that he wasn’t a great dad when she was his daughter.

Fabian makes a face but doesn’t say anything. She reaches out to bump his shin with the toe of her boot, grins again when he looks back down at her.

“You’re still my favorite sibling,” she teases, and he rolls his eye. “No, come on, you gotta say it back!”

“I don’t have to do anything!” he protests.

“You do, because you love me!”

“I said nothing of the sort.”

They descend into petty squabbling, lighthearted bickering, and Fig grins — for real, this time. Maybe everything isn’t perfect. Maybe the two of them are kind of dancing around the subject because neither of them are willing to acknowledge the elephant in the sterile walls of the hospital hall.

For now, it doesn’t matter. For now, she attempts to goad Fabian into calling her his favorite sister, which isn’t even a contest, Fabes, you already declared the unborn child your nemesis, where are you going—

send me a prompt!

[goticapomposa]

Red Wine supernova

Vi x Reader

I haven't written in a while and English is not my first language, I welcome suggestions and ideas🩷🩷🩷

another one of the stories inspired by Chappell Roan's songs, this time red wine supernova, I thought of more than one version of this one that I could write, if you want other versions of red wine supernova tell me, I made this one something shorter and more casual ting

The Reader is a little weird but Vi is totally in love with it☝️

MEN NOT ALLOWED⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

Red Wine Supernova

The thick fog of Zaun hung in the air, filled with the smell of rusty metal and smoke. The alleys were shadows swallowing up lost stories, but tonight, everything seemed different. Vi couldn’t tell if it was the cheap wine stolen from Vander’s bar or the way Reader smiled at her, as if she were a secret about to be revealed.

“I swear I saw a star,” Reader said, throwing her head back and staring at the polluted sky.

Vi laughed softly.

“Impossible. I can’t see anything here.”

But Reader just shook her head, her hair moving like a comet about to tear through the sky. She held a half-empty bottle, the dark liquid reflecting the few city lights. Her lips were tinted red from the wine, and Vi couldn’t tell if it was the drink’s fault or if they had always been that addictive shade.

“You don’t see it because you don’t want to see it. I see it.” — Reader closed her eyes, spinning in the middle of the empty street. Her worn dress spun with her, and Vi felt a pang in her chest. Reader didn't belong in a place like this. She was a beam of light where there was only darkness.

“You're drunk.”

“A little,” Reader admitted, tripping over her own feet before laughing.

Vi rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile. She walked over to Reader, holding her waist to keep her from falling.

“You're a problem.”

Reader opened her eyes and stared at Vi with that look that always dismantled her.

“You like that.”

Vi's heart thudded against her ribs. The smell of wine mixed with Reader's sweet perfume invaded her senses, and suddenly the world seemed too small.

“You're talking nonsense,” Vi grumbled, trying to ignore the heat rising in her face.

But Reader laughed again, leaning closer.

“Do you think I’m a star?”

Vi didn’t answer.

Reader touched Vi’s face gently, her cold fingers contrasting with her warm skin.

“I think you’re the whole sky,” Reader whispered.

And then, before Vi could process what was happening, Reader pressed her lips to hers. It was sweet and intoxicating, like a sip of forbidden wine, like a promise that should never be made. Vi felt her body react before her mind, grabbing Reader by the waist and pulling her closer.

The world spun around them, like a supernova about to explode.

When Reader pulled away, her smile was pure chaos.

“Vi… did you feel that?”

Vi took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way her hands were shaking.

“What?”

Reader took a step back, stretching her arms toward the sky.

— The explosion.

Vi stood there, standing in the middle of the deserted street, feeling the cold of the night against her skin, but it was impossible to feel anything other than the taste of Reader still on her lips. Her heart was racing, her mind a chaos, as if she had been caught in the middle of an exploding star.

Reader spun on the asphalt, her arms outstretched, her dress swirling with her, as if she were on a different planet, far away from Zaun.

“What was that?” Vi asked, her voice hoarse.

Reader stopped spinning, her eyes shining in the dim light of the streetlights. She tilted her head to the side, biting her lip, and Vi felt a shiver run down her spine.

“It was either the end of the world or the beginning of it,” Reader answered, as if it were obvious.

Vi snorted, trying to regain control of her breathing.

“Do you always say that weird shit when you drink?”

Reader laughed, walking towards Vi, her steps slow and measured. She stopped right in front of her, her big eyes fixed on Vi’s, as if she were seeing something that not even Vi knew existed.

“I only speak the truth,” Reader whispered, and Vi felt her entire body stiffen.

Because deep down, she knew. She knew it wasn’t just the wine, it wasn’t just the night, it wasn’t just Reader joking around like she always did. It was real. It always had been.

Vi looked away, crossing her arms, trying to ignore the lump forming in her throat.

“You’re a problem,” she repeated, but her voice came out softer this time.

Reader smiled, that mischievous smile that Vi knew so well.

“A beautiful problem,” she said, and Vi felt like laughing and screaming at the same time.

Before she could say anything, Reader grabbed her hand, slowly intertwining their fingers. Vi didn’t move.

“Let’s go.” Reader pulled her down the street, aimlessly.

Vi didn’t even ask where. She just went.

Because, deep down, I knew that any place with Leitora seemed like an entire universe.

The city around them seemed distant, as if Zaun had been left behind and all that existed was this moment, the deserted street and their hands intertwined. Vi could feel the heat of Reader’s fingers against hers, a light touch, but it burned more than any fight she had ever faced.

Reader walked ahead, guiding her as if she knew exactly where they were going. Vi should ask. She should say something. But deep down, she knew it was useless. Once Reader made up her mind, there was no way to change her mind.

So, she just kept going.

After a few minutes, Reader suddenly stopped. Vi almost bumped into her.

“Why did you stop?”

Reader looked around and then up. They were near an abandoned building, one of the many that Zaun had swallowed up over time. The concrete was cracked, the windows broken. Nothing seemed special here. But somehow, Reader looked at the place as if it were a portal to another world.

“I want to show you something,” she said, and pulled Vi inside. The building was dark, the smell of dust and rust filling the air.

Vi frowned. “If this is a plan to kill me, you’re going to need more than cheap wine, doll face.”

Reader laughed, shaking her head. “Trust me.”

She climbed an old staircase that creaked with every step. Vi followed, keeping her guard up, even though deep down she knew there was no danger here. Not the kind of danger she was used to, anyway.

When they reached the top, Reader pushed open a heavy door and made her way to the roof. The cold wind whipped against Vi’s face, but she barely noticed. Because the view… She blinked in surprise. Somehow, from up here, Zaun seemed smaller.

The lights of the factories flickered in the distance, and the fog that always enveloped the city seemed less suffocating. Lighter.

Reader walked to the edge, sitting down with her legs dangling in the air. She patted the concrete beside her, calling Vi over.

“Sit here. With me.”

Vi hesitated for a second, but then sat down next to her.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. They just stood there, looking out at the city.

“I used to come here when I was a kid,” Reader said after a while. “I always wanted to see beyond all this. Imagine what was out there.”

Vi turned to face her. Reader was still staring straight ahead, her wide eyes reflecting the dim light of the city.

“And what did you think you had?”

Reader smiled slightly.

“Stars.”

Vi felt her chest tighten.

Reader turned to her then, and Vi knew. She knew that this moment was different. That something between them had changed.

Reader leaned closer, her dark eyes analyzing every detail of Vi’s face.

“Did you feel it?” she whispered.

Vi's heart was pounding.

"What?"

Reader smiled, that mischievous, beautiful smile.

"The explosion."

And this time, Vi didn't try to run away.

This time, she just held Reader's face with both hands and kissed her.

The world around her disappeared. There was no Zaun, there was no dust, there was no danger. There was only Reader, the taste of wine on her lips, the soft touch of her fingers on the back of Vi's neck.

A supernova.

When they pulled away, Reader smiled against Vi's lips.

"Now you see?"

Vi laughed, leaning her forehead against hers.

"I see."

And for the first time in her life, she believed that stars could be born in Zaun.

I hope you liked it, if you want the other versions of red wine supernova tell me!

What song should I do next? Do you guys have any ideas?

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[thegoldencontracts]

Every single time someone makes Azul out to be a pathetic easily bullied guy with no ability to defend himself whatsoever an angel loses its wings falls to the ground and fucking dies.

Please remember, Azul's overblot was the exception, not the norm. He's not a pathetic little crybaby. The thing about this portrayal is that it does insinuate the idea that someone is weak and "pathetic" for having a breakdown when it's this widespread, clearly genuinely belief that a character is pathetic as evidenced by one breakdown.

Same goes for Riddle. Yes, he had a breakdown during his overblot, but with both him and Azul, that was an exception, not the norm. There are plenty of scenes where they've both shown themselves to be smug and powerful characters.

Heck, even during Azul's breakdown, he did end up displaying his true power by sucking that literal magic and talent out of all the students nearby. Leona literally stated that his Unique Magic was forbidden. Riddle was known as the Crimson Tyrant because of the way he treated others. Azul isn't going to cry every time someone insults him, case in point, the way he behaves with Jamil, who makes a habit out of it. He doesn't run off feeling hollow after every interaction, because, well, he keeps coming back! And his enthusiasm is never hankered!

Even when dealing with physically stronger individuals, like Floyd (and most twst characters let's face it most of the cast has six packs), Riddle is never afraid. It was once mentioned that he effortlessly overpowered Floyd during the opening ceremony in Beans Day. With his magic, he's not weak, and he's certainly not helpless.

Obviously, while you can write whatever you want, I just want to explain why I believe that characterization is inaccurate. I love writing fics myself, and I (a long with most fic writers I've asked) prefer writing things that seem like they could reasonably happen with the characters and/or au in question.

[skunkes]

1 week until surgery...my brain keeps trying to talk me out of it bc i dont Need it and im scared of medical environments and Pain but i have to remember this is one of the only things that has ever made me consider wanting a tattoo and also the only thing that's made me Excited For and Wanting visible scars...

And also I've been making "i want sterilization and testosterone" meltdown tweets every other week for many many years so we're scratching one off the list LOL

[okcoolthanks]

You ever think about someone you’ve known since you were in elementary school and then remember how little of a life you’ve lived and how he hasn’t been there for most of it and you two see eachother so differently and then just really think about how much you could’ve done if you just Tried more when you had the chance

[martinskiseyes]

.

[2-kamikou-1]

ok but no guys seriously how do you ask for reassurance in a way that doesn't make you look like a stupid yandere stereotype

[penumbralwoods]

self inserts and OCs are great for taking your wildest dreams and getting to see some part or version of you achieve them. such as feeling loved and cared for