#just wish people would at least TRY to do what they get paid for.

[elysianightsss]

AAAHHHHH! HI! So sorry to bother you, but I read the neurodivergent reader x 141 and AHHHHH I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING, DROOLING, CHEWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE they wont let me out

i have a little idea… how would poly 141 react when they find out your job isnt this cute barista or something along those lines, but just a regular stocking associate or a cashier for some huge corporation. like, they know you work. and every time you leave, they see you die a little on the inside from having to go to *insert shitty job*. They just didnt know that you were working there and now they are trying whatever they can to convince you to quote your job and stay home… i know i would rather stay home and take care of them than going to my job…

Oh anon I love your brain! As someone who used to be a cashier before I got my fucking wonderful, literally no joke amazing office job, I fuck with this. I’m writing them as roommates tho don’t know why just deal with it😘

It starts off with a debate over what time you get up in the mornings given how tired you seemed today. But then they realise, they don’t even know what you do for work. Johnny predicts that you’re one of those cute baristas in sweet little aprons with how good the flavoured coffees you make him in the morning when he’s back from his run, are.

Kyle can’t seem to fathom you’re not the office sweetheart he seems to picture you as. Though you’d been living with them for almost over a year now, the guys were gone before you left for work and back long after you arrived home. Still he had it in his head the whole time that you were putting on tight pencil skirts and heels in the morning before going off to work. Something he argues tooth and nail with Johnny about.

John scoffs hearing the guys argue, usually keeping out of it, but this time he can’t help himself when he interjects with, “Yer both chattin shit. She’s obviously a baker with those mouth watering pastries she makes us.” Now that opens up the argument further.

Simon is the only one who doesn’t speculate, instead he walks right up to you on a Sunday night as the guys are all readying themselves for bed and you’re making your lunch for tomorrow. “Luv.” He calls, you glance at him, eyes honing in on the way his grey sweatpants hang low on his hips. Dangerous, dangerous man.

Looking back to the fruit you were slicing, you hum in acknowledgment, “Wot’s ya job?”

You bite back the grin that fights to split your face in two, turning to him you see he visibly softens at your little smile, “I’m a cashier.” You answer, ears tinging red a little. In all honesty you were embarrassed that you worked for one of those big corporations. The dreams you had once but were never able to reach are like a damp on your heart. Like a festering mould that only grows in the worst conditions.

Sometimes you enjoy the people, there are some nice ones that overcome the bad interactions. But everyday you pull on the trousers and trainers, and that itchy uniform top, you wish that a snowstorm would lock you inside the house. You pray to receive a call telling you not to come in due to a fire that started in the bakery. Your heart aches to be told you’re allowed to go home early even if you won’t be paid as much at the end of the month.

Simon hadn’t said much after you told him, his eyes darkened a little when he asked if you enjoyed it and you had answered swiftly and without hesitation; no.

Then suddenly, the guys are leaving for work a little later in the morning. The same time as you. John offering you a lift to work, Johnny making you coffee instead of the other way around, Kyle giving you one of his soft jackets so at least your arms will be comfortable even if your torso is covered in that itchy material.

Simon is the one who places his hand on your forehead and tuts beneath his black surgical mask. You scoff when Simon says he doesn’t think you should go in today, “I feel fine.” You counter with a frown, pushing his big paw away and shoving your feet into the uncomfortable trainers.

John stares down at them like they’ve offended him personally, “You own comfier shoes lass.” Johnny comments and Kyle nods in agreement.

“I have to wear them.” You say quietly wondering why they suddenly have such an interest in your work attire. Have to. Well, that just wasn’t acceptable. The guys didn’t think you should have to do anything.

The weekends were a little weird too. You would usually cook them meals and sweet pastries or cakes with how hard they worked, they deserved nothing less. But Johnny is ushering you away from the kitchen when you walk past the dining table and the marble counter island to make him a coffee.

John says no thank you in the most strained way you’ve ever heard it when you offer to make him a sweet treat. He deflates even further into the sofa when you look offended at his decline. Kyle pulls you close to him on the other side of the couch, putting an arm around you, he continues reading his book but it’s out loud this time.

You sigh snuggling close to him, head on his shoulder when Simon brings over one of the many plushies you’d left on the floor of the lounge, again, and one of the many soft blankets you’d unnecessarily bought for the house. Maybe you could get used to this, you thought as your eyes started to blink slower. It had been a really long week, with lots of assholes. A week of sitting in that uncomfortable chair had done a number on your back too.

You’re just lucky that you’d said from the very beginning that you won’t work weekends, at least you could have those to yourself. The guys became even more attentive, not that they weren’t before, but it increased tenfold. And you wondered why.

Why Kyle is packing you a lunch box everyday now. Why Johnny is cuddling up to you at night just so you sleep warmer, better. Why John is willing to race away from very important paperwork to sit outside the big supermarket you worked at just so you didn’t have to take the bus home. Why Simon keeps buying you lush smelling soaps, bath salts and those sparkly bathbombs he knows you love, you have so many now you don’t know what to do with them. Even when you ask him to stop, he shakes his head and grunts out, “Baths are good for sore muscles.” And that’s all you get.

You just want to know why, what brought all of this on. And most of all why it all suddenly stops.

Almost like a calculated mission, like a big discussion had happened before hand. All of it stopped. They had left long before you got up for work, no lunch ready to go, no soft jacket waiting by the door, no cuddle reading sessions on the weekend, no more new bath stuff, no more lifts and an expectant look in John’s eyes when it gets to dinner time.

They’d done a total three sixty. Like they wanted to show you how good it could be with their help, how much easier life could be, going to work could be, only just to take it all away.

That’s exactly what their plan had been, Simon’s idea mostly with little suggestions made by the rest of them. They all executed it thoroughly, now all that’s left for them is to compete the final step.

“Doll I think you should quit your job.” John goes first, you frown excessively. What the hell is he talking about, you think.

“Have you gone mad?” You huff. John knows you’re annoyed with them, hell they all know you’re angry by their actions. But it’s a necessary evil.

“Not yet I don’t think,” John jokes and feels a little lighter when the corner of your lip quirks up slightly, “I am serious.” He says simply, his blue eyes burning into you before he walks away. You think it so odd, strange that he says that out of the blue.

And then Kyle says it too. Coming into your room with the same baby Yoda squishmallow Simon had placed in your lap two weeks ago, and the same blanket. He gestures towards your bed, it’s subtle but you nod. Failing to hide his grin, Kyle gets snuggled up under the blanket with you, your arms wrapped around the plushie.

He’s halfway through the book, hand brushing through your hair scratching at your scalp deliciously when he broaches the subject, “Bun?” You scrunch up your nose, blinking your eyes open to look at him accusingly. The sight makes him chuckle softly, you’re screaming with your eyes, how dare you make me open my eyes and be fully conscious.

He leans forward before he can stop himself and rubs his nose against yours sweetly, something he tells himself later was just to butter you up before talking. It wasn’t.

“I don’t think you should go to work anymore.” He says simply, with ease, his voice calm.

“What?” You blink rapidly waking yourself up fully to actually take in what he just said.

“Just something to think about bunny.” He shrugs and goes back to reading with that damn lulling voice. You don’t stop him, don’t interrupt but your mind is swirling the same way it had the day before when John had said something similar.

Johnny is not so tactful, shovelling his breakfast in his mouth. Half masticated bacon and scrambled eggs rolling around in his wide open trap, when he spits out the words. “Quit yer job lass, no one wants to be stackin shelves and scannin someone else’s shit all day.” He scoffs washing his food down with the caramel flavoured coffee you made him five minutes ago. He’s quick to put the plate in the sink and place a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His head bend slightly, eyes level with you, “Think about it pet.” He pats your cheek lightly and earns a much more harsh smack to the back of his head by Kyle on the way out of the house.

And finally Simon…well Simon…um Simon just did what he thought was best, what he thought was necessary, what he thought would get you to comply the quickest…

You pant harshly, fingers gripping onto the light bronde hair painfully hard, yanking with each stripe Simon licked up your cunt. You barely noticed John walking passed your open bedroom door with a smirk, Simon had his face buried so deep in your pussy it was hard to think, hard to conjure up your own name let alone open your eyes and catch Kyle and Johnny pushing your door open a little wider and watching for a moment before Kyle drags Johnny away.

Simon’s broken too many times to fix, crooked nose brushed against your clit wonderfully, tongue fucking into your quivering hole making you buck your hips desperate for the release he’d been denying you for around twenty minutes now.

“Say it.” Simon cooed, encouraging you gently. Shaking your head, teeth biting down on your lip, holding on as tightly to your words as you held onto Simon.

Simon grips your jaw in his big paw, a sharp look comes across his features as though he’s about to scold you when you meet his gaze, thumb rubbing your clit in tight, rough circles to keep the stimulation enough, to keep you there on the edge so he has you right where he wants you.

“Say it and you can cum.” He promises, your eyes widen, stinging harshly with their own promise of tears should you keep this up.

“b-but-“

“No buts. We’ll take of everything sweetheart, oll ya afta to do is write the resignation letter, then stay here as our pretty little housewife.” He kissed your clit before moving his thumb back in its place, circling slower this time. You gasp, a broken sob wrenching itself from your chest as your orgasm starts to slip away with the lack of stimulation.

“Please! Please Si! I-“

“Oll ya afta do is say it. Quit, find yourself a cute hobby, cook and clean for us a little. Oll ya afta do is say yes and I’ll let ya cum luv.” He grins evilly when you whine, blowing on your cunt before licking a hard long stripe from your puckered asshole to your swollen, throbbing clit.

“yes! please yes I’ll quit just pl-“

Simon doesn’t let you finish your plea, devouring your pussy like a man starved. He licks, sucks, and flicks your clit, slipping his thick fingers inside your clenching, empty hole thrusting them in and out doing his best to match the pace he set with his tongue on your clit.

You cum hard, untamed. Back arching uncomfortably, limbs shaking rigorously and Simon slurps up everything you give him. You lay there trying to catch your breath when Simon crawls up your body to hover over you. His eyes meet yours when he grins, “Good girl. Now why don’t we get started on that resignation letter hmm.” It wasn’t a question.

Safe to say you happily quit your job.

[sharama]

Me every time getting ready for work: what kind if clown shit will I be going into today.

One of the Co-managers text me yesterday at like 1:30 pm about out of dates. those she pulled had the 10th, so they were not out of date yesterday, but whatever. I doubt my wonderful coworkers did anything to replace the holes the co-manager created anyways.

Just fuck shit every day I go in, And i got to do everyone's job.

Just fucking ridiculous. 🥴

I can't get my shit done because I'm too busy doing everyone else's.

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Psychic (kinda, not really)

Dpxdc Prompt #4

holy shit i am so fucked right now

That's all that was on Duke Thomas's mind as he stood in the middle one of Bruce Wayne's (Batman! because apparently the butts do match) ball rooms, ready to be the entertainment for a gala.

how did my life ever come to this point?

At least he had an answer to that question. What do you get when you throw Danny Fenton and Duke Thomas together? An accurate psychic team that can bullshit their way into making enough money to keep themselves off the streets.

Honestly they hadn't really planned for it, but they made a pretty accurate psychic team. Danny could go invisible and intangible which was very helpful in gathering information about clients. He could talk to ghosts as well and if they weren't you know trying to attack him on sight (which was apparently a thing? that ghosts did to Danny?) they were pretty good sources of info. Finally, he new how to do all the generic psychic things like palm reading, tarot cards, tea leaves, ect.

"My friend Sam taught me!" he said, when they were realizing this plan could actually maybe work. "She never believed in it, i didn't, still don't, believe in it either but it could be useful if we actually decide to do it."

If Danny was the one with all the psychic knowledge where does Duke come in you may ask?

Danny couldn't tell a lie to save his life and couldn't get through a palm reading without bursting into laughter because of how crazy it sounded. Duke had a good poker face, learned quickly to lie on the street, and most importantly could see Danny when he was invisible thanks to his own meta ability.

They bought a tent, a deck of tarot cards, a cheap crystal ball (that was really just plastic), and some psychic-ish robes that were warm enough to double as blankets.

And so Danny and Duke started their farce, telling people scarily accurate visions and advice. They started getting invited to more events, high society ones at that, to serve as entertainment. They paid well (no matter how much the condescending nature of everyone attending irked Duke to no end) and everything was great.

They got an apartment, could actually eat 3 meals a day, and had a steady source of work.

Then Duke told someone who murdered their wife and the Bats were interested in him.

Duke and Danny, of course, didn't know this at the time so when they got invited to a gala at Bruce Wayne's (the richest man in Gotham) manor they accepted without a thought.

And then when Danny was scoping out the place after they arrived he found the Batcave because Bruce Wayne was Batman and invited Duke soley to investigate him.

Man did he wish that he could turn invisible like Danny. Maybe then Batman's piercing stare would go through him instead of straight at him.

[nientedal]

What progress at home has biden enacted? What policies of his show that he is making progress that prove he is actually different than trump?

I like to pretend I have faith in humanity, so I'll answer as if you're asking this in good faith.

Biden's DEA has lifted restrictions on telehealth prescriptions to make appointments and assistance more accessible.

He put a funding package into place to help unhoused people get access to mental and physical healthcare, as well as short-term and long-term housing.

He has attempted and is still attempting to get student debt relief through - this was blocked by Republican judges appointed by Trump, but he's still working on it.

Infrastructure repair - his administration has budgeted funds to actually fix some severely-damaged and frequently-traveled bridges.

Trying to expand access to healthcare to include undocumented immigrants who came to the USA as children (Dreamers) under the Affordable Care Act. Support for Navigator programs and outreach has also been increased.

He has vetoed Republican-led bills that were attempting to overturn environmental protections - one that would have forbidden investment fund managers to consider climate change in their portfolios (I have two degrees in accounting and this is actually huge), and another that would have overturned restrictions on agricultural runoff into our waterways.

He and his administration worked for ages to get rail workers paid sick days.

This is just some of what he's been doing. Meanwhile, Trump and other Republicans want to criminalize the lives of LGBT people like you and me. They want to eliminate no-fault divorce and force births that will kill parents or devastate them financially. They have stated flat out that they want to install a military dictatorship in the USA. They attempted to put that in motion on January 6th, 2021. They failed once. They will do better next time.

One party wants to house the homeless and expand social safety nets, while the other one wants to criminalize homelessness. One of them wants a future in which I might be able to vote to change how much of a war machine my country is, while the other one wants to eliminate my ability to vote entirely. Those are not the same. Those literally are opposites.

At the end of the day, all you and I can do is choose to do the least amount of harm possible. You and I cannot choose to do no harm. This is the USA, we sell war, you and I cannot choose to do no harm. I wish we could, my god do I wish we could, but that is not an option. So we grieve for the harm we couldn't eliminate and work to minimize the harm that is done. Despite all the crap they support, Democrats are the minimum amount of harm right now. Acting like they aren't is exactly what brought us to an election where our options are a future where we are either wading in blood or drowning in it.

Not voting for Biden will not help Palestine. Not voting for Biden will guarantee a Republican president who will make the situation in Palestine WORSE. AND it'll hurt a lot of other places as well, both at home and abroad, because Republicans are about business and the USA is in the business of war! And I would very much like that to change someday! I would very much like to someday be able to choose to do no harm! And I know what I have to do to try for that future, so what are YOU going to do? There is no standing off to the side in this. If you aren't helping pull, you're the dead weight we're pulling. Are you going to dig your feet into the mud and blood and drown us there? Or are you going to get the fuck off your ass, grit your teeth, and help us pull free?

[uvobreakmylegs]

The Long Route

Shalnark x female!reader

Warnings: stalking, creepy behavior, voyeurism, mentions of potential kidnapping, Shalnark abusing his ability

Word Count: 5.3k

At seven in the morning on a Wednesday, most people were still waking up, some trying to ignore the rays of the sun that peeked through the windows while others would be getting up reluctantly. As such, most people weren't out yet, leaving the streets free of the traffic for a short while. Even being at the height of summer, the early hour had the temperature outside being a moderate one, best described as tolerable bordering on being just okay, though that would change for the worse once the sun rose higher in the sky, causing most to head indoors to find relief in the AC units that worked overtime.

But for now, the temperature was fine and the mood was quiet.

Fifteen minutes after seven o'clock, Shalnark walked through a largely empty parking lot before he entered through the double glass doors of the local gym. Going through a second set of doors brought him to the inside of the building, which was just as empty as it had been outside. Few people wanted to be up this early, and fewer still felt inclined to go work out if they did happen to be awake. The people who would go out at this hour were mostly the ones who couldn't make a gym visit fit into their schedule in any other way or they wanted to have less company with them while they worked out.

Shalnark didn't consider himself to be part of either group. In all honesty, he would have much preferred sleeping in. Already, he could feel a yawn coming on as a result of another night where he'd gone to bed far too late to be up and about this early, but he kept himself from letting it out. As much as he wished he was back in bed, he wasn't here for his own sake.

The manipulator smiled as he greeted the lone employee who sat at the desk not far from the entrance. The employee in question remained stone faced as he walked past, not bothering to give a greeting in return or even fake being friendly at the sight of the blonde man. Shalnark didn't comment on it and the smile stayed on his face as he headed off towards the men's locker room.

He was pretty used to that particular employee's lukewarm reception to him, and since he had never cared about the way other people viewed him, he wasn't about to start that now for someone who was ultimately insignificant to him.

After leaving his things in the locker room and heading up the stairs to the jogging track that overlooked the work out area below, Shalnark took the time to stretch out as he looked at who else had arrived by now.

Four people were working out on the machines. More than normal, he noted, as the number usually tended to be two or less.

At least no one else was on the jogging track. Despite not coming this early to have the place to himself, it was nice to not need to worry about anyone else being in his general vicinity.

And while it was unlikely that anyone would notice or even care, it was just as nice to not take the risk that anyone might see the glances Shalnark would take out the long window that overlooked the indoor pool. The people below him never paid enough attention to see what he was doing, but anyone closer might take note of the way he watched the pool. Or rather, the person who was almost always in the pool at this time of morning.

Speaking of….

He'd already begun his jog, keeping his pace moderate and doing his best to keep himself from rushing to the window. Act normal and keep your head facing forward. He was used to it. As he rounded the corner and came to the window, he eagerly glanced to the side and smiled to himself.

You were there, as expected, swimming at the center of the pool. And once again the early hour resulted in you having the entire stretch of light blue water to yourself as you made your way toward one end of the pool. Once you reached it, you would turn and swim to the opposite and repeat the process once you reached that wall.

By no means were you a professional swimmer, nor were you trying to be one. You swam at your leisure through the water, not at all interested in even trying to swim the length of the pool the way the professional athletes would. You swam because you liked it, and you were often lost in your own thoughts as you went back and forth as you enjoyed the feel of the water.

He reached the end of the window just as you reached the end of the pool, and he was able to catch a glimpse of you turning around in the water before you were out of his sight completely. As usual, the time he had to look at you ended far too quick for his liking, and he returned his attention to what was in front of him as he continued his pace while he made his way around the track, eager to get another look at you once he reached the window a second time.

As much as he disliked how sudden his viewing of you would end, the anticipation of seeing you again spurred him as he went around the track. Though he made sure to keep his pace the same. As unlikely as it was, if there did happen to be anyone watching him, it would look weird if he always slowed down at the window and then sped up after.

You were closer to the opposite end of the pool when he saw you again, still going at that same leisurely pace. Your hair was wet, he noted. At some point you had dunked yourself under the water completely as he knew you were compelled to since you felt it would be strange if you entered the water and didn't go under at least once. It was an odd quirk of yours and you didn't even know why you felt the need to do so.

One could say that your need to come out at this time of day to swim was another quirk of yours. But unlike the first one, you and Shalnark were both aware why you came out so early.

It came down to an aversion to other people in public pools, many of them not having a sense of personal space, as well as you not trusting others to have clean habits while sharing the water with you. Your concern was largely children who didn't know any better, though there had been a few adults who had annoyed you enough that you never wanted to be in the water with them again. But the lack of other people and the fact that the pools were cleaned every night had the early hour of seven being the perfect time for you to go.

Maybe it was because of his own upbringing and the fact that he'd seen plenty of unpleasant things both in his youth and as an adult, but Shalnark felt that was a silly reason to go so far to avoid others. It made you seem a rather picky.

A little bit of pickiness was no big deal, though.

You were swimming towards the middle of the pool again before you were out of sight, and Shalnark again brought his gaze back in front of him. Another lap around the track before he would see you again.

And when he did see you again, you were no longer going back and forth in the pool, now hanging about in the middle as you floated on your back, your face and a majority of your chest sticking out of the water as you stared above you.

It was during times like these that he wished he could sneakily take a photo of you. But even if he were to be quick about it, that was likely to draw too much attention. The manipulator just needed to appreciate the image of you that was burning itself into his mind.

That was a new swimsuit, he noted. A light green one piece suit decorated with pink stripes, and from what he had been able to see when you were swimming earlier, the suit dipped down low in the back.

The colors were nice on you, he felt. And you looked cute in it. Though Shalnark would be hard pressed to criticize you in any of the suits he had seen you in previously. Any piece of clothing that had the fabric hugging so tightly around your body was one he was happy to see you in, but he did have to say that it was a shame you no longer wore two piece suits.

Although, it was his fault that you didn't wear them anymore.

His mind went back to that incident as he came to the end of the window, and with you out of sight, he thought of how he had almost managed to ruin this experience of yours completely.

When he first started following you and learned of the outings you took every Wednesday morning, Shalnark hadn't bothered with taking advantage of the jogging track to watch you at first. It had seemed smarter and less of a hassle to take control of one of the lifeguards while he watched you in private. You wouldn't question why one of them would be watching you, after all. That was literally their job.

Only he hadn't realized what would happen after he used Black Voice to take over that lifeguard; that having them watch over you, the object of his affections, would cause them to smile at you while Shalnark watched through their eyes.

It was an oddity of nen, no doubt. Something he hadn't been aware of because he'd never had such feelings for anyone until he saw you. How could he have known that would happen when he'd never encountered that issue before?

So for three different mornings, Shalnark was puzzled at the way you kept giving the lifeguard nervous glances while you tried to enjoy your swim, while all you could see was that lifeguard leering at you. On that third day you had clearly had enough as you got out of the pool much earlier than usual to complain to the management, and the lifeguard in question had been fired shortly after.

That had been an interesting thing to learn about his own ability, and Shalnark would have been more fascinated by it initially if he hadn't been so worried that you were going to stop this bit of your routine. The week after that incident you didn't come in, and he wondered if you wouldn't be back at all.

It was a nice surprise when, a few weeks after, he saw you head out for the gym before seven, your typical swim gear in hand.

But from then on it was one piece suits only.

That was too bad, but maybe in the future he convince you to wear them again. Maybe for him.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

He came around to the window again and his eyes once more darted to the side. You were still floating in the middle of the pool, still staring up at the ceiling.

What were you thinking about?

He wished he could ask. It would've been nice to go down and talk to you. Unfortunately his spider tattoo meant that wasn't a good idea as he would be bringing some risk to himself if he were to go out there shirtless. And even if he didn't have that problem, he was aware you might not appreciate someone trying to chat you up while you were in a space where you wanted as little company as possible. While you wouldn't complain about one or two others who might happen to be in the pool with you, you didn't want conversation.

Was it really that fun to swim around like that with no one else to interact with?

Evidently you thought so.

As the window ended and he lost sight of you again, Shalnark still felt that the effort you made to be alone in a public place made you picky. But still, no one was perfect. And after so much time watching you, Shalnark had grown fond of your quirks.

If anything, he found that they made you cuter.

Over the next hour, Shalnark watched you as you swam about, sometimes going back from swimming from one end of the pool to the next, sometimes dipping back beneath the water completely, staying under for a few moments before you rose back up and keeping your eyes shut as you brushed the hair out of your face.

And other times you were just floating. Even with the distance between you two Shalnark could see that your gaze was unfocused as you were more concerned with your own thoughts, and once more he wished he could know what was going through that head of yours.

Maybe at some point, you would tell him.

Not now, or anytime soon, but at some point in the future, when you would know him long enough to trust him.

That would be nice.

It was a little bit after the hour mark had passed that there were others coming into the indoor pool as well, setting up their towels on the long white chairs as they chatted with one another. Not too many, but a sign of what was to come. And as was usual during this time, you began to make your way out of the pool, swimming over to the shallow end before you were able to walk out, the water dripping off of you as you headed for the chair where you had left your towel.

Shalnark took that as his cue to leave as well, going around the track one last time and then making his way back to the door that led out into the halls.

But before he did that….

He glanced down at the people who were working out. Two of them had left since he had started, and the other two looking as though they were beginning to wind down. Though neither of the two who remained were women.

Shalnark frowned, feeling slightly disappointed. Ah well. He couldn't get lucky with that every day.

He was just about to leave the room when he heard the door beneath him open, and he paused for a moment, waiting to see who had entered.

It was a woman.

Within an instant he had one of his needles in hand, and with a flick of his wrist it was embedded into the woman's neck.

The woman stiffened for only a moment before Shalnark took over, his phone already pulled up to his face as he began to input his instructions. Just like that, the woman was continuing like nothing had happened, turning around and leaving the room she had just entered. With a click of a button he had her remove the tie she had put her hair in, letting it flow freely and hiding the needle in her neck.

In the time it took her to reach the women's locker room at the other end of the hall, Shalnark had descended the stairs and entered the men's, his eyes glued to the screen. You would probably have just entered the showers, cleaning off the smell of the pool chemicals. It was unlikely that you would've been done that fast.

It was also too bad that he couldn't record any images of you while you were in the shower. But with the way anyone under his control would smile at you, he needed to be careful whenever he used his ability to spy on you. Another incident like the one with the lifeguard and you'd leave this gym for good.

That would be a shame, as he'd truly grown to enjoy this routine. Both yours and his own.

He and his puppet waited as he heard the sound of water running at the other end of the locker room. The woman he was controlling was standing at the end of one aisle of lockers, opposite of the one that you typically used, staring blankly at the gray metal in front of her while he listened for a sign that you were returning.

When he heard the water switch off, Shalnark quickly set it so his phone would record the images seen from the eyes of his puppet, anticipating the state you would be in when you walked around that corner. He followed up by having the woman open the locker door in front of her and use it to hide her face while he made it appear as though his puppet was looking for something.

A few moments later, you were there.

Through the corner of the woman's eye, he immediately caught sight of you clad in only a towel. You glanced over at the woman once, to which Shalnark made sure she averted her eyes, and then you paid no more mind to her as you put in the combination on your lock. Once the door to your own locker was opened, you removed the towel that hid the sight of your body from him.

His mouth went dry as he saw your bare skin and the goosebumps appeared all over as those parts that had been covered up were met with the chilly air in the locker room. He saw the way your nipples had hardened as a result of that, and he double checked to make sure the phone was recording you. He saw the way the water continued to drip from your hair that was still damp despite your efforts to dry it, and the way the water dripped from one strand that fell onto your chest and rolled down your skin, traveling down past your breasts and stomach until it reached-

Shalnark took in a deep breath as he looked away from the screen, tapping his foot while he made an effort to control himself. As much as he wanted to keep his eyes on you as much as possible, trying to leave the building while hiding a tent would be awkward, even for him. This was what the recording was for; so he could view the video when he didn't need to worry about that.

From that point, he spared only brief glances towards the phone's screen, doing so just to make sure you didn't catch the way his puppet stared at you.

What he caught sight of were little snippets of you: a quick look at the way you pulled your underwear up your legs. How you looked from behind as you put your bra into place. Those few droplets of water that were still present on your exposed skin. The way that skin was then quickly covered up as you pulled your shirt over your head, followed by how you zipped up the front of your pants.

It was a constant back and forth from the view of his puppet, and Shalnark twirled his second needle in his hand as he kept himself from getting too excited.

He knew that the video he would have later wouldn't be very good. None of them ever were, as all he could enjoy were those snippets of your vulnerability sandwiched between the anticipation of being caught.

But there was a charm to them, something about them that he loved as he would capture these moments of yours. Maybe that was a quirk of his own, as he was truly enjoying the ways he tiptoed around you, watching your every move while you remained unaware of the fact that you were actively being stalked.

Besides, if he wanted a nicer quality video of you, he'd just look through the footage from the cameras he'd placed in your apartment.

Ah, but he was getting distracted.

Right now, he should be focusing on what you were doing.

And since you were nearly finished with tying your shoes, Shalnark gathered up the bag he had brought with him before exiting the locker room, his eyes glued to his phone as he saw you gather up all of your things before you turned to leave.

Once he saw that, he released the woman he'd been controlling and the screen went dark.

As he placed the phone and remaining needle into his pockets, he thought that today, it'd be nice if he could interact with you in some small way. Maybe to set the gears in motion for the relationship on your end.

Probably not that, but he at least wanted you to know that he existed.

You were several steps behind him when he began ascending the stairs that led up to the front desk area. Among the other noises that were within the building, he focused in on the way you walked and the sounds of your shoes upon the tiled floor that changed once you reached the stairs yourself. He sensed how far you were behind him, which wasn't far at all.

But he kept himself from looking back.

After climbing the last step and heading towards the doors at the front, Shalnark gave a brief wave to the employee at the front desk who was still present at their post. That time they made a sour face when they caught sight of him, and he saw the way they mouthed the word “prick” as they looked away angrily.

Shalnark personally didn't understand why that particular employee was still so mad about the fact that he wasn't paying any membership fees. After all, it wasn't his fault that a loophole in their guidelines allowed anyone with a Hunter's license free access to the gym and all its amenities. And really, why would anyone even bother still being mad about something so petty?

Ah well. It didn't matter. That employee couldn't do anything and the rage they radiated at him was amusing to him. For now, at least.

Then his attention shifted, away from the employee and back to you as he sensed that you also had reached the top of the stairs and were now heading for the doors as well.

As he had reached the exit before you did, he pushed one of the doors open and then looked back, pretending as though he had just noticed that you approaching. With a smile, he pushed the door open wider to step through and then kept it open, waiting to the side as he held the door for you.

On realizing that he was waiting for you, you smiled at him as you offered a “thank you” as you walked through the open doorway. He smiled and nodded in response. Quickly reaching the second set of doors in the entryway, you opened one and copied the action he had made previously, holding the door open for him. Just as you had, he thanked you in turn, to which you smiled again as you answered “no problem.”

Now out of the building, you began to walk over to where you had parked your car, only to notice immediately that he was walking in the same direction as you as the car that Shalnark was currently using not too far from where you had parked your own. Evidently you felt awkward saying nothing as the two of you walked side by side, especially with the previous interaction, and you made yourself speak up.

“The heat has been pretty brutal lately,” you commented as you looked up to the sky. The sun was higher now and there wasn't a single cloud present.

“Yeah. It's always the worst when you take one step outside and you feel like you could immediately keel over from heatstroke,” Shalnark replied.

You nodded along as you agreed with him, then added “I think we're supposed to get some thunderstorms this weekend, though, so that might keep things cool for a bit.”

“We can always hope,” he answered.

The meaningless conversation ended as quickly as it started as you came to where you had parked your car. You fished around your bag for your keys as you wished him to have a good rest of his day, to which he wished you the same.

That was it for today. Any further attempt at conversation wouldn't be received well, especially when it was clear that you needed to be somewhere. Right now the view you had of him would be one of neutrality – he'd been nice to you, you'd been nice back, and you had a conversation that was so boring that you'd likely forget about it within the next few hours, though hopefully his image might stay in your mind and you would recognize him the next time your paths crossed.

You probably hadn't noticed him on the jogging track, not today or any other. When it came to things like your surroundings, you could be incredibly oblivious at times, especially when you were too deep in thought.

He reached into his pocket as he went to pull out his own car keys, and his hand bumped against his phone.

…. He still had a needle he had yet to use, didn't he?

……

No one else was around and the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Before you could enter your car, he turned and threw his remaining bat needle at you, which promptly struck you on your shoulder. You were instantly frozen in place as you were put under his control, a puppet waiting for orders.

Shalnark didn't need to bother looking at his phone as he typed out your commands, and as he approached you, you turned to him, smiling as you waited patiently. He felt that the smile you were giving him now wasn't as pretty as it had been when you'd been speaking to him earlier, but it would do for now.

As would this.

Shalnark pulled you into his embrace when he reached you, tilting your head up with one hand as he leaned in for a kiss while his other hand continued to type in commands. You did as Black Voice ordered you, leaning in as well and reciprocating his kiss while your soft hands went to rest on his chest ever so gently, the way he imagined you would touch him if you were to do so of your own free will.

He got to experience just a little bit of you: the taste of your lips, the smell of your now slightly damp hair, the softness of your skin, the feel of your body being so close to his and the slight scent of pool chemicals that still clung to you despite the shower you had taken.

It wasn't perfect. There was a robotic feel to your touch that was caused by the use of his ability, and he knew that right now, all you were was just a shell of yourself.

But it was far to early to expect to get anything like kisses from you, and while he was determined to maintain the course to have the relationship progress as naturally as possible, he couldn't help but cheat in little moments like this.

Eventually, you'd be kissing him of your own free will, so what was the harm in making you do that a bit early? After all, if you didn't know about it, how could it ever hurt you?

So he kept his lips on yours as he held you.

Letting you go felt bittersweet; he wanted to have your touch on him longer, but he was already pushing it with how long he was keeping you there. He knew you had somewhere to be within the next hour and it wasn't time yet for him to deconstruct your social life. Things needed to be normal for now. So with some effort, he pulled himself off of you, and as soon as the needle in your shoulder registered the commands you pulled away, turning back to your car in the same position you had been when he took you over. It was once Shalnark had entered his own car that he deactivated Black Voice, and within an instant, the needle disappeared.

He watched through the rear view mirror as you came back to your senses, seeing a brief bit of confusion hit you, and you were confused as you looked about your surroundings. Clearly you sensed that something was off, but when you looked about further and saw nothing out of place, you stalled for a moment, keeping your hand on the open driver's side door while your head tilted down. You were thinking it over, no doubt, racking your brain as you tried to figure out why you felt like something felt strange. But with no evidence of anything actually happening and no sign of anyone near you that could be giving off such a sensation, you would be forced to concede that nothing had happened. And after a few further moments of stalling, you entered your car and shut the door, driving off not long after.

There was still a puzzled look on your face as you drove away, but by the end of the day, you would be over it.

As for Shalnark, his focus would be on getting home so he could jack off to the latest video of you before he saved it to his computer alongside dozens of similar videos and images that all featured you.

And maybe next Wednesday, he might find the opportunity to talk with you a little bit more.

As he began to head back to his apartment, he knew that he didn't need to go through all of this. All of the stalking and the filming and the ways he planned to insert himself into your life. Shalnark could easily take you away by force; he had proved that moments ago when he took control. You were powerless to stop him, and you wouldn't be able to protest until he had taken you to someplace of his liking, and even then there would be little you would be able to do. This charade he was playing wasn't necessary, and Shalnark was well aware that he was only making extra work for himself by playing with you in the way he did.

But that was what he liked about it.

Watching you from afar to find out your habits, seeing the different things you both liked and disliked, witnessing the good and the bad moments you would have on any given day, storing all of those moments on the hard drive of his computer so he could look them over in detail whenever he pleased. Seeing the way you had put your life together, just so he could come in and change everything and make himself the center of your world.

Others probably wouldn't have wanted to bother with a plan that took such a long time. And that was fair, to an extent. It really would be easier and faster to take you away. But he didn't think going about it the fast way would matter much.

Because no matter how it happened, the end result was that you would be with him. He would love you and you would reciprocate, and the two of you would live happily together. That was what Shalnark had decided, and therefore, that was the only way this could turn out.

And it was said that the journey was just as important as the destination, wasn't it?

Shalnark smiled to himself once again, his fingers eagerly tapping on the steering wheel.

Doing it this way was just more fun.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

all this talk about brothels in zaun i forgot that there’s most definitely strip clubs. now im thinking about stripper reader giving a dance to vi😋

CONTENT: Mentions of horny thoughts, alcohol, and drugs, club setting (strippers and all that good stuff), lap dance (v! receiving), no smut but some grinding, Vi barely touches your nipples that's all she gets unfortunately:((

A/N: you are so right omg I didn't even think of that. love you for this one anon, enjoy<3 Sorry for being a tease with this but I have to make things fun for myself I write smut all the time

Bright, hot pink lights flash over in every direction. The club is packed with all sorts of people, from chembarons to Jinxers, big, buff men and other small and timid. Some are here to get high or drink 'till their hearts content, and that's what Vi thought she showed up for, not to be lumped in with the desperately horny bitches who just came to watch girls spin around a pole. However, upon seeing you, her mindset changes rather quickly.

Your hands wrap around the metal, one leg hitched around the pole, and you move with grace she used to think was impossible for someone in an explicit career choice. It's not even just that, though. Your lacy outfit.. you adorn a pink mesh fabric that leaves nothing to the imagination and gives Vi an irreparable sweet tooth. Suddenly, all of the money she previously wanted to spend on vodka goes towards getting at least one good performance from you.

-

Your body feels even better against her than she could have ever imagined.. your thighs straddle over lap as you grind down onto it in a subtle but suggestive way. Your manicured nails trail over her collarbones and up to cup her face, your smile so sickly and yet lacking of enough sustenance for her to feel satisfied. Her hands don't hesitate to hold onto your hips, trying to finally get her fill of you.

"You paid more than you needed to, you know that?" You tease, your mostly bare thighs shifting against the black material of her jeans.

"I would argue that I didn't pay you enough," She shoots back with a cocky grin. You seem intrigued by her. Many of your lap dances are given to cheap men who reek of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Vi, as messy as she looks, reminds you of something better than all of Zaun.

As the performance continues, Vi feels as though she is losing herself watching you move. Every subtle brush, every slight grind, it all drives her crazy. The club lights shining over and the extreme noise bursting from the main section of the club, but she doesn't give a fuck about that. All she really can focus on is the way each movement sends her deep into the rabbit hole of you. Each little kiss you plant on her in innocent but teasing places leaves her wishing she could just throw you over her shoulder and take you home, fuck you so roughly for being a huge tease. She can't do that, though; truth is, she's enjoying how much of a tease you are. For once, she enjoys the pure build-up. You grind against her and though the friction isn't meant to actually feel good, she swears she can, and your hair shines a tinted pink as the lights graze it, your face dark and yet so close to hers.

"Your time's almost up, sweetie." Your movements almost slow down to a halt, but Vi quickly grabs your hips, catching you by surprise. She slips a couple more coins into your bra, her hand brushing against your nipple ever so slightly.

"This'll last me a while, don't you think?" Her grin is so clear, she is just so so okay with staying at this club with you all night, even if all she gets is a little lap dance. She should be worried about the fact that all of her money is about to go towards you, that this is definitely an act of seduction you're working on her. It might as well have been magic. She can't really care when you shrug and flash that sugary smile once more, your body moving on top of hers once more.

Vi left the club that night at 4 in the morning and with a practically empty wallet, but it was so fucking worth it.

[ashleyisartsy]

Problems (objective and personal) I'm not seeing discussed a lot w this new WatcherTV thing, in no particular order:

-Alienates people internationally who literally CANNOT GET the streaming service!

-Alienates casual fans who don't watch or want to watch all of their shows. Putting down 60 bucks a year to watch just one or two shows is kind of insane, at least for me.

-The volume of content Watcher has produced historically hasn't been enough to justify a separate streamer. I understand there's no way a small team could compete with something like Netflix, obviously, but that's what you're trying to do by putting yourself in the streamer market.

-Will this streamer be secure? What steps are in place to protect your viewers info? ESPECIALLY payment info.

-Will it be easily watchable on multiple devices? I watch YouTube videos on my phone at work 90% of the time, or at home on my TV thru my switch. Is this a browser only deal?

-What are the internet requirements for this? Believe it or not most streaming services won't run on my internet personally. I don't have any for that reason. I can watch YouTube on 360p, or on my 2-bar-reception phone data. Not everywhere has stable reliable internet.

-The suddenness and totality of the move was going to be jarring no matter what, if the idea had been introduced gradually or started as a hybrid model to test audience interest there wouldn't be nearly this amount of pushback.

-I understand the people saying "pay artists!!" Bc I am one, and I get that their quality is expensive and they have a whole company's worth of people to support. I do actually think their work is worth paying for! Everyone's is! But convincing anyone to pay for something they previously got for free is going to be a hard sell. They were still getting paid before, they're now just asking us to pay instead of the advertisers. Idk about you, but that's a way bigger hit to my pocketbook than a multimillion dollar company's bank account.

-I get that YouTube can be a really shitty place to be a creator sometimes, and that being beholden to advertisers is something they don't want to be. It's why they left Buzzfeed! They already have a patreon and merch and it's clearly not been enough for their ambitions. But shooting yourself in the foot because your running shoes are wearing out isn't going to make you a better marathon runner. They had to know that there was going to be a not small portion of their audience unwilling to make this move with them (and again, lots literally aren't able to!)

-If they had a free w/ ads option, or even did a hybrid model with whole shows behind the pay wall, or even just ran a fucking crowd funding campaign to help cover costs of new seasons of shows, any of those things could have worked. They don't even have YouTube memberships turned on, which I've personally seen many many channels do even when they already have a patreon. It really doesn't seem like they've exhausted other options, at least from an outside perspective, which is all we have as viewers!

-I get that this has been in the works for a long time, and that there probably isn't a way for them to back out now. But I hope they can find a way to make this more accessible if they want it to work at all. I truly am not wishing for their downfall, but the whole situation is an awful mess.

Idk, rant over. As a lot of you are I'm feeling very disappointed and upset with this one, and I'm not paying for it either. Hope the boys can salvage this one for their and their crew's sake. Would really hate for this to be the end.

[popponn]

so what if mikage reo is running late and crashes to you—a culinary student, also late—on his rush. predictably, the coffee in his hand got spilled all over his expensive coat. unpredictably, you—a scholarship student too busy trying to survive—don't know how rich he actually is and automatically offer to compensate him somehow.

since washing his coat somehow will cost you ten times your rent while buying one is simply asking for a lifelong debt, you offer to him what you do best—your cooking for a full month. at first, reo really doesn't want it as he doesn't mind. also, stranger danger? but since you are adamant enough to even offer him "i will make it in front of you!" he ends up accepting it.

and somehow, as people say, a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. reo kind of falls in love a bit too hard and a bit too clumsily before he knows it. but hey, if the love of his life is offering him lunch with a full-blown smile maybe learning to be a proper domestic husband while juggling soccer and business is worth it.

#1:

"so, is it good?" you asked in the manner of a true excited cook.

reo wanted to say that he knew it would be good even before he put your food in his mouth. or say that even if you offer him to eat a marshmallow that is one fire he will still do it for you at this point. or maybe he really should just blurt out, "it is. please marry me and let me have your cooking for the rest of my life. i love you."

but, reo has his pride as your trusted food tester—so, with a wide grin that was objectively handsome if not a bit too full of love, reo answered, "very! guess, studying and testing all those spices really paid off, huh?"

#2:

"can you guys—" nagi paused, making a face as if he was tasting the words on his tongue, "—just get it together?"

you blinked. "uh? pardon?"

nagi didn't raise his head from his phone. "reo keeps looking at you like he wants to—"

"dude," chigiri interrupted, kicking nagi's leg visibly. nagi grunted, which chigiri ignored him in favor of offering you a nervous laugh instead. "sorry, reo kind of ruined his game yesterday. he kept grudges—"

"hey, reo kicked my head—"

chigiri immediately kicked nagi's shin hard enough that the table shook. you spared the white-haired male a pitying squint as you tried to not wince too much. you really should have gone to pick up the food with reo.

note: aka a post canon romcom au no plot no braincell just vibe of supportive x supportive. it's reo just falling in love with you who offer good food and good mental support. and hey this au entails classic "rich guy tries domestic mundane things he never even touch once" which of course would let to reo getting your guidance (while staring longing at you like a boy in love). at least this is reo, so through sheer power of natural learning capability and also love, he will do it right at the second or third time. oh, of course nagi and chigiri is there. chigiri wishes reo would stop bragging about your food and you if he isn't going to grow a bone and confess. nagi wishes reo would stop hitting him each time you send him an emoji or a praise—reo you are ruining his full combo. aka do you see idiot 1 & idiot 2? there is never too many idiots to lovers. might have went way too self indulgence thinking about this—"after bllk they still go to uni" this kind of thinking should tell you enough how many braincel is present here. but. uh yeah. "i want to support and comfort reo" is a feeling. anyway ok. thanks for reading this blurb i should be doing something else rn but 🫶 yeah have this. take this. love u.

[skylarsblue]

★RDR2 Incorrect Quotes★

(If you see duplicates from my COD version of these? Shh, no you didn't) ★Border made by @fairytopea★

Ms.Grimshaw What are you doing, you oaf? Young!Arthur, staring at Y/N: They’re pretty. Ms.Grimshaw …and you’re ugly, now get back to work.

- (Pre-joining the gang) Abigail, trying to get paid: What’s your favorite color, John? John: Blue. No, green. Abigail: Awesome! I love learning about you. John: I fucked up, it’s yellow.

- Arthur, cutting a huge knot out of John’s hair: I fucked up, we gotta go bald. *head locks him still* Young!John, flailing violently: WAAAAAHHHH-

Seán: Psst, Lenny, ay mate, wake up! Lenny: Huh- Wh-what? What is it? Seán: I heard something outside the tent. Lenny: What? Seán: Like a woman crying in the distance, but I couldn’t hear her footsteps. Lenny: Okay?? What do you want me to do? Seán: Come look with me! Lenny: Hell no! Seán: Why not? Lenny: I got too much melanin and too much sense for that white people shit. You wanna let demons get you, be my guest, leave me out of it.

- (John HAD to have SOMETHING that captivated her, for humor’s sake? We’ll say he had jokes)

Abigail: You have to find my darling husband, I’m so worried about him. Arthur: Seriously, what do you see in that guy? Abigail: He makes me laugh.

- Micha: I've got the urge to say something. Arthur: And what's that? Micha: The N-Word- Arthur: WHOA-

- Bill: But seriously, is it your whole emo thing that she’s into or what? John: …yeah, long flowing straight hair, very emo.

- Karen: This- Hmm. Tilly: Be nice. Karen: I’m findin’ it. Mary-Beth: …it takes you that long to find- Karen: It does, it does.

- (O’Driscoll troubles) Kieran: Arthur we’re going to get murdered. We’re going to get murdered by a man who can’t tie a fucking bow tie. Arthur: At least he won’t torture us, can’t tie a rope either.

- John: Ugh, you know they’re gonna make us do one of those tacky family happiness photos that comes in the restaurants shitty frame. Tilly: Why are you so fucking negative all the time? John: Wh- uh- I just- Arthur: *slowly sucks tea through straw*

- Seán: Someone just said; “You’re a criminal!” Seán: *handkerchief on, gun in one hand, bag of money in the other* Seán: Well I’ll tell ya what, Sherlock Holmes. You are unbelievable.

- The Gang: Arthur is dying and Micha is a rat! Dutch, dancing with money: *insert that audio that goes “I don’t give a fuck cause I’m a ✨millionaire✨, I do what I want, middle finger in the air!”*

- John, drunk: You think the wind is ever tryna tell us something and we don’t know how to hear it anymore? Charles, loading up a drunk Arthur into a wagon: I just want you to stop saying odd shit.

- Abigail: If we lose, I’m gonna cut the judge. John: Wh- you brought your switchblade?? Abigail: Mhm. John: But they patted us down on the way in, where did you hide i- ohhhhhhh.

- Arthur: …you ever wish you could just, turn into a bird and fly away from everything? Charles: I think we need to get you to a therapist for depression. John: I’d wanna be a wolf. Charles: And we should get you psych evaluation for Autism.

- Sheriff: You seem like a reasonable and good natured person. Arthur: *looks around* And you look like you need glasses.

- Abigail: What would your father say?! Jack: Uhhh “I’ll fix it!” And then make it worse until luck comes around and makes it work, and then act like that was the plan the whole time? Abigail: …that’s my bad, I should’ve used a different phrase to express my disappointment.

- (I dunno why but John being super mean to some people is so fucking funny to me. I don't hate Bill, but bullying him is fun)

Bill: You enjoyin’ the wife everyone else paid to have? John: You mean the woman I never had to pay for? The woman who liked me so much, she didn’t ask for any money to sleep with me? In fact; she liked me so much, she married me? The woman who makes me a warm dinner and kisses me everyday? Mother of my child? John: I am enjoyin’ yeah. What about you, Bill? Bill: John: You enjoyin’ your lonely life, you unlovable sorry sack of shit? You enjoyin’ having to pay for someone to pretend they like you? Cause they never actually do. They hate you actually, like me. I hate you. Eat shit and die, Bill.

- Arthur: …him? Really? Mary-Beth Don’t be mean! Arthur: He looks like a rescue dog, Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth: I know, I like that! Arthur: ….you like that?? Mary-Beth: His pathetic wet eyes and general wimpy stature have captivated me. Arthur: *sigh* Whatever makes you happy.

- Bill: At the end of the day, Arthur. I am a MAN. Arthur: A MAN WHO’S GAY. You like fellers GETTHATTHROUGHYOURHEAD!

- Dutch: I have a plan. Hosea: You haven’t planned shit. Dutch: I’ve planned it.

- Hosea: Arthur! What on earth are you doing?! Young!Arthur: Getting rid of this demon. Young!John: *screeching and trying to get out of Arthur’s grip* Hosea: And why do you plan to get rid of him? Arthur: Because, Hosea! He woke me up by leaning over me and whispering, “I know what death feels like, it’s cold. Have you felt death?” Arthur: HE’S CLEARLY EVIL, HOSEA Hosea: That’s just how children are, Arthur. Dutch: He’s right son, put the boy down. Dutch, leaning and whispering to Hosea: But maybe we should buy a Bible just in case. Hosea: And a cross.

- (Modern au and suicide joke)

John: It’s not a phase! It’s a lifestyle, you just wouldn’t get it! Arthur: You think I didn’t go through the “I can’t tell if I want to kill myself or everyone around me” phase? Come on. John: What? I don’t wanna kill myself at all. Arthur: … John: … John: Should I- should we go talk to Hose- Arthur: We should forget this conversation happened. Take this Nirvana CD and keep your mouth shut.

- Abigail: …John. John: Yes, my angel? Abigail: You forgot something. John: No I didn’t! I took the list with me, checked it three times, even crossed things off when I put it in the cart! See, look. Apples, frozen hamhocks, cranberry juice- Abigail: John. You took Jack with you. John: Abigail: John: Abigail: John: SHIT I LEFT HIM BY THE PASTA SECTION Abigail: STOP STANDING THERE AND GO GET HIM!

- Jack: Pa, how did you get mom to marry you? John: Well son, I- John: John: I have no idea. Jack: Should I ask mom? John: I’ll be honest, I don’t think she knows the answer either.

- Charles: You did good back there. Arthur: Oh? Heh, nah, you did all the fancy stuff. I just helped. Charles: Don’t undersell yourself, Arthur. I wouldn’t be complimenting you for no reason. Arthur: Oh yeah? And here I thought you were just trying to fluff up my ego. Charles: Wouldn’t hurt to do when you work so hard, no? Arthur: Now you’re just being’ sweet- John: Can y’all wait til we’re done before you start your spiritual dick sucking? Arthur: Can you repent to the lord fast enough to save your soul in the time it’ll take me to throw you into the damn ocean, Marston?!

- Arthur: Do you even have a brain? John: Do you even have someone that loves you? Arthur: John: John: I heard it that time, I’m sorry. Arthur: This is what Abigail hears sometimes, just so you know. John: I heard it that time, I got it. I- I’ll just- Arthur: Whiskey, full bottle. The nice kind. John: Apology alcohol, got it.

-

NPC: My husband’s parents are so crazy. In-laws always are, huh? Abigail: Well, uh-

*John being an orphan* *John’s adoptive dads being criminals, one particularly off his rocker*

Abigail: ….aha, yeah;;

- Abigail: John Marston, you useless, foolish, stupid man! Bill: To hell with John! Abigail, suddenly with a very large gun: NO ONE INSULTS MY HUSBAND.

- Arthur, holding up a proper painting he actually put time and effort into: Could a depressed person make this? Charles: The painting: *a wolf in the rain laying it’s head over the body of a deer shot with an arrow* Charles: I’m, in fact, more convinced you have depression now. Arthur: …yeah this wasn’t the best evidence for my argument, huh? Charles: No. Not at all.

- John: What are you talking about? That’s completely normal, it’s like having opinions. just cause it doesn’t happen to you doesn’t mean- Tilly: No, John! No. It’s not normal to have that reaction to the sound of hearing metal on metal. John: No look, uh- Arthur! Arthur come here! Arthur: What now? John: What happens when you hear metal on metal? Like, a can bein’ rubbed with a knife. Arthur: Ugh, I hate that sound. It makes my damn skin crawl, like I got beetles underneath. Makes me wanna skin myself to get’em out. John: Right! See, Tilly? It’s not just me! Tilly: ????

Charles: …and you never got them evaluated? Hosea: In hindsight, an autistic diagnosis probably would’ve made more things make sense. But, what can ya do.

- Arthur after a dog didn’t positively react to him: Maybe this is my final straw. Charles: No. Arthur: It might be. Charles: It’s one dog. There are twenty that you stopped to pet along the way here, plenty more for you to pet after this. Arthur: You don’t understand, this is devastatin’. Charles: Arthur, please- Arthur: Utterly devastatin’, Charles.

- Arthur, tipsy: Just cause you’re gorgeous don’t mean I’ma do whatever you say. Charles: Drink the water, Arthur. Arthur: *grabs the glass* Yes, sir.

- (Got a Y/N one, also, modern Au)

Arthur: That’s the Aberdeen farm. Y/N: …what’s wrong with it? Arthur: What’cha mean? Y/N: The vibes, they’re off. Arthur: …the…vibes? Y/N: The energy, Mister Morgan. The vibe of the place. They’re off, they’re weird, wack even. I sense insidious and wretched wavelengths wafting from the aura of that property. Arthur: I see…well, to answer your question, it’s cause they are weird. And I ain’t even confirmed why cause I don’t really wanna know. Y/N: I see you can also sense the vibes are rank. Arthur: …sure, whatever that means.

- Micha: Well I think- Y/N: Well I’m certain no one fucking asked, Micha! Not a single damn person asked what the hell you thought, ever! In fact, I’m pretty sure you don’t think. I’m pretty sure your skull fills with all the bullshit in your organs, and it just spills out your mouth! Micha: Micha: I- Y/N: Shut up, Micha!

- Arthur, after Albert explains some super dangerous plan in order to get wild animals near him to photograph: You’re stupid, I like that in a man.

- Y/N: Bye Arthur, bye Karen, bye Hosea, bye Arthur. Sadie: You said ‘bye Arthur’ twice. Y/N: I like Arthur.

- NPC: Lovebirds, eh? Sadie: Arthur: Sadie: I’d rather eat a poison ivy plant with Holly Berries for dressing. *looks at Arthur* No offense. Arthur: No no, none taken. All things considered, I’d rather dive into a pit of tar and then drag myself face first through a plain of rotten chitlins. Sadie: Completely fair!

- Bill: I need you to realize you ain’t in charge here. Y/N: I need you to realize I don’t give a shit.

- Arthur: Hey Charles, uh, I got an Uhm…a spiritual question. Charles: Any particular reason you chose to ask me? Arthur: Uh well- I didn’t mean for it to be like that- I just- Charles: *sigh* What is it? Arthur: Do you know what it means when an elk stands up on its back legs? Charles: That means- Charles: WE SHOULD LEAVE, we need to leave, that’s what that means!

- Jack: …why are your boobs so big? Charles: They’re not boobs. Jack: Do you have to wear a brasier? Charles: *sigh* Arthur: He asked me the same thing a couple weeks ago, don’t think to hard bout it.

-

(Story spoilers!!) Y/N: I'm sorry, let me get this straight. Y/N: You picked up that man when he was a destitute child, grieving and starving. Taught him almost everything he knows. Y/N: Then, you did that with, what? Three others? In similar circumstances? Y/N: Created a sense of family and community, a strong bond between so many misfortuned people. With your trustworthy long term friend by your side. Y/N: And then. Y/N: One RAT. WHO IS OPENLY ANTAGONISTIC AND REEKS OF SUSPICION AS MUCH AS HE DOES HORSE SHIT, SOMEHOW CONVINCES YOU TO GO OFF YOUR ROCKER AND HARM YOUR GANG?! Y/N: Explain! Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: He praised me- Y/N: YOUR PRAISE KINK GOT YOU TO AIM A GUN AT YOUR SONS????

- Arthur: Naaah they’re an angel. Lenny: They punched Bill in the face. Seán: They told Strauss he was a waste of human material, in his own language, which they’re not fluent in. Mary-Beth: They framed Micha for a crime and got him put in prison again. Arthur: Like I said, an angel!

- John: Woman. (Translation: Darling.) Abigail: Moron. (Translation: Lovebug.)

Arthur: You tellin’ me they’re being affectionate right now? Jack: Can’t’cha read subtext, Uncle Arthur? Arthur: ???

-

(Insert Alcohol is truth serum reference)

Drunk Bill: Not to be gay, but you’re gorgeous bro. Kieran, afraid: You don’t have to be gay to appreciate a man’s beauty. Absolutely shit-faced Bill: Nah, like I’d fuck you, bro. Kieran, terrified: Okay, never mind!

- (How I imagine their first couple years together went)

Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: How do you feel about me? Hosea, naked & beside him: ….we’re sharin’ a bedroll, Dutch. Dutch: Yes, but what are we, Hosea? Hosea: ….we’re both naked, alone, in a tent, Dutch. Dutch: That doesn’t answer my question. Hosea:

- (This one's sad, not funny, sorry-) John: You’re such a hypocrite, why is it that anything I do that you’ve done before that you get so bent outta shape?! Arthur: Because I’ve done it before you, John. John: So why do you think it’s fair to tell me not to?! Most people are proud when their younger brother ends up like’em. You don’t want anyone like you, is that it? Arthur: John: John: …oh. Arthur: Now that you got my point, will you take my god damn advice without a big fuss…please.

- John: She drives me insane! She somehow managed to make me the angriest I’ve ever been almost daily. NPC: Then leave her. John: The fu- no. What? She’s the wind beneath my wings, my darling wife, my beautiful angel. How the hell could you even think to suggest such a thing? NPC: But- John: Get outta my sight, you fuckin’ disgrace.

[charliehoennam]

the dinner party

A/N: Filling out this request. Enjoy!

Pairing: David Loki x F!reader

Summary: David and his girl spice things up at her boss's annual dinner party.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ ONLY. Language, unprotected p in v sex (wrap your willy, kids), oral play, cumplay, not proofread

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Parties in general were David’s least favorite things. He rarely gets time off and the last thing he wants to do is spend it sharing you with people he doesn’t know.

Sure, they were your co-workers and superiors and he trusted you more than anyone in the world. But you looked way too sexy to be at this stupid dinner party.

He wanted to have you to himself tonight. He didn’t want to socialize; his social meter was already naturally low and he’d been there for almost half an hour now, enduring the small talk with the strangers you introduced him to and all their invasive questions about the job he mostly just didn’t want to think about.

You noticed his discomfort when he excused himself to get more wine after one of the most obnoxious guys of your workplace asked him what the most disturbing thing he’d seen on the job was.

It was disturbing for a reason and he wished he could forget it.

“Uhm, that’s rather a hard question to answer. Guess I’ve just seen too much” David answered curtly. “Excuse me, I ran out of fuel” he confirmed raising his glasses.

You co-workers laughed it off with his little joke, but you knew he wasn’t trying be funny, so you followed him into your boss’s kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t-“ you started, regretting that you had dragged him along.

“Not your fault, babe. People are just assholes sometimes.”

“Just 30 more minutes? I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do, but I have to. You know how my boss is. He takes it personal if we don’t show up. I don’t wanna be iced out at work.”

“What if I planted drugs in his house?” he smirked picking at the charcutarie board on the kitchen island to pop some salami into his mouth. “Ooh, that’s good salami. I think that’s salami, at least.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course, I am. But he is a douche. I’d be doing you a favor.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but this job pays for all the sexy lingerie I wear for you.” You smirked filling up both your glasses. “And the hours are really flexible too.”

“Almost as flexible as you” he smirked back idling around the kitchen. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise. I know it’s important. It’s just fucking boring as shit. If I have to hear your boss talk about his Italian inspiration for the house, my head might actually explode. I can literally feel the vein in my head throb every time he says ‘venetian’.”

You chortled with a sip of your wine.

“I know he’s a lot to handle, but it’s just for 30 minutes. And I already introduced you to everyone, so we can just hang out with my friends out back until then. They’re pretty normal, like us.”

“I can’t believe it’s only been half an hour. It feels like it’s been at least 3 hours.”

“What can I do to make it easier hm?” you smiled rubbing your palm against his chest.

“Well…” he smirked lowering his gaze to scan your body. He loved how your black dress hugged your curves just perfectly. “There is one thing that would make me really happy. You know I have a sweet tooth, right?”

You narrowed your eyes with a mirroring smirk.

“You want dessert already?”

“It’s the best part of the course, if you ask me.”

“Fine. But we gotta keep it quiet” you nodded with a mischievous smile.

"Wait. Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief. He didn't think you'd actually agree.

"Yeah, I am. This party is a total dud. I wouldn't be here unless I had to. Might as well make it fun," you smiled nonchalantly, dipping your fingertip into your wine and dabbed the red liquid on his white shirt.

“Hey! What’d you do that for?”

“You’re a cop, David. Rule number one: always have an alibi. And I’m not gonna ruin my dress. It was more expensive than your shirt.”

“Ey, I paid 10 dollars for this shirt at the good-will.”

“My point exactly,” you smirked taking his hand to lead him out of the kitchen and back into the crowd. “You’re such a klutz, Davy. Let’s try to get you cleaned up.”

Fighting back the excited smile was hard to do as you led him to the upstairs floor. Running off to a secret place to do secret things had you both feeling like young teenagers in love again.

“Yeah, ” he smirked with suspicious eyes squinted at you as you weaved through the crowd of employees. "Accident happen."

If there was one thing David loved more than you and his job, it was going down on you. And, if that wasn't enough already, it was one of the many things that he excelled at.

"C'mere, beautiful" he smirked turning you around once you'd locked the door.

His hands snaked around your hips as lips collided with you in a feverish kiss, hiking up your dress. Your lower back met with the marble countertop of the sink in the lavish bathroom.

David opened his eyes to look at the reflection of your ass, beautifully on display in your black lace panties.

"You look so pretty, baby" he groaned at the twitching of his hidden cock.

Your cheeks bloomed with warmth as praises spewed from his mouth.

Once his knees met the floor, he wasted no time getting to work. David loved seeing you in black lace. He loved your pussy even more.

His moans were muffled as he buried his mouth over your clothed cunt, nose rubbing and circling your sensitive nub as he inhaled your delicious scent.

"Got this pretty pussy all dressed up for me too huh?" he asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

His hot breath and warm tongue nuzzling your cunt had your panties growing wetter and wetter with a combination of his saliva and your slick.

You moaned as your hand reached for his head, legs welcoming his mouth as you sat back on the edge of the countertop.

With a hand wrapped around your thigh, he hooked a finger under the lacy fabric and pulled it to the side in order to display your juicy cunt to him.

"Ain't nothing sweeter than this right here."

His open mouth quickly latched onto your exposed pussy. His tongue eagerly licked up the sopping mess that only flooded from your spongy walls.

His thumb circled over your delicate clit as his tongue stroked over your plushy folds up and down, over and over again, sending electricity throughout your body and curling your toes.

The sticky sounds of your incredibly wet cunt and his mouth along with David's expertly technique altering from your pussy, down to your puckering asshole, had your head hanging back. Heat burned in your cheeks as you wondered if anyone could hear you from the outside.

David's eyes were locked on your contorting reaction, coming undone with your mouth hung open in an ecstasy only he could provide. So desperate for your release, you ground your hips against his face, caressing his head of luscious hair as you chased your high.

Your spine arched forward as you relished every greedy movement of his flickering tongue, panting when his thumb slowly sped up its circling over your tender clit.

David's low chuckle at your frantic chase for climax sent chills over your hot skin.

"D-Dave, I-I'm gonna-" you gasped, trying your best to stay as quiet as you possibly could.

"Cum for me," he ordered adding more pressure and speed to his teasing thumb.

The blinding white light of sheer pleasure rippled through your body, letting it tremble under his unyielding mouth. Despite your attempt to shut your thighs, he chuckled darkly as he forced them apart, pushing you further back and folding you over on the countertop until your knees met your chest and your back met the cold surface of the mirror behind you.

“Look at this pretty pussy, all soaked just for me.”

With a teeth baring grin, his long fingers glided easily between your slick folds, toying with the sensitive mound of flesh.

“Came so good for me, didn’t you? Gonna let me taste it?”

You nodded eagerly at him unable to speak with heavy breaths, trying to ease yourself from your newfound high.

“Be a good girl and spread your pussy for me then" he ordered politely quickly bringing your hands under your thighs to pull your pussy apart to hold it open yourself in the raunchiest way.

“Atta girl” he grinned maliciously.

His tongue shoved into your soaked hole, delving deeper and deeper into your open cunt. David was addicted to your pussy, to your taste. He loved how wet you could get, how much of a mess you could make just for him to see.

You watched as he fucked you with his tongue, lapping at your pulsing walls as he impatiently licked for every single drop.

"Baby, fuck me. Please. I need your cock in me so fucking bad right now" you begged, reminded by his tongue of his dick.

He didn't hesitate for a single moment before unbuckling his black pants to let his throbbing dick bounce freely from its confines. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around his cock to give it a few tugs, eyes hungrily staring your gaping pussy.

"Jesus fucking Christ" he groaned as the saliva and his pre-cum mixed and coated his heavy cock.

Aligning his heavy tip´to your welcoming pussy, he slid it up and down your swollen slippery lips to gather your slick. You hissed as he tapped it over your sensitive clit, making your hips buck as they chased his cock eager to fill up your pussy with his sizeable dick.

He would've teased you far more if he hadn't remembered where you were, so instead, his tip slipped past your folds and into your warm wet cunt.

He pushed in and pulled out slowly at first, to wet his dick enough until he could glide in and out of you with ease. You both watched completely hypnotized by your pussy lips wrapped around his heavy member with a shiny glazed hug.

"Keep this pussy open for me, baby girl. Take it all in. I know you can take it."

You felt so wonderfully full and stretched with his thick, long cock slowly moving inside you. Every ridge and vein of it massaged your walls in the perfect way, eliciting even more wetness from your body.

"Ah, fuck" he growled lowly unable to tease.

He needed to cum so badly. His dick was already throbbing and aching for release. Not to mention that eventually someone would knock on the door or come looking for you.

His belt buckle jingled as his hips began to piston against yours. His large hands moved to your chest, pulling your bra and dress to watch your breasts bounce freely with his every thrust.

"Ain't gonna last long like this, baby" he panted softly as he mumbles against the smooth calf of your leg.

He pounded balls deep into you quickly, watching your slick lips squelch around his cock as the sounds of wet slapping skin echoed softly in the bathroom.

It was just too much for him. Your perfectly drenched pussy hugging his cock beautifully, his balls smacking around your ass cheeks, your breasts jiggling to his rhythm.

It all overwhelmed him, bringing him to finally cum heavily into your womb.

Your walls squeezed around his cock, milking him of every single drop until he had to force him to pull out from the oversensitivity of it.

A couple of strands of his pearly white cum squirted over your lips as he gave his final couple strokes to his sensitive tip, aimed at your gaping pussy hole to fill it to the brim.

He smirked proudly as he admired his white load inside your cunt, overflowing like a waterfall from your used pussy and down to your pulsing asshole.

"You're gonna keep this pussy just like this, alright?" he smiled darkly as he gently moved your lacy black panties to cover your cunt and soak in all your - and his - juices.

"No cleaning up. I want to feel it when you walk around out there."

[multch]

Accident.

No outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader [18+] CW: Unspecified age gap \ touching \ suggestive content\ afab Reader

After a wardrobe malfunction at the beach, Mr Miller decides he’s gotten too close- enough is enough- but he couldn't have anticipated the constant teasing that would follow suit..

Sand, sun and some eye-candy, Nothing could be better than this!

Finally coming back home felt fantastic after months away at college. Not only would you get to crash on the much larger bed of your old room but you would also be around for the elaborate summer holidays your parents would take.

Your family was enthusiastic.. To say the least. They were always ecstatic when it came to organizing what annual ‘event’ they would host. You hoped it would be just a simple trip with you and your siblings like last year- maybe someplace where you wouldn’t have to suffer the sweltering heat waves that summer kept offering- Like England or Newzeland!

Unfortunately, your parents had something else in mind:

The beach.

With people you hardly know.

With THE Joel Miller practically babysitting you while they organize it.

Fuck.

Joel Miller has been a friend of both of your parents for a few years now. Having first met him as a helping hand while officially moving out of your parents’ house, he’s proven himself exceptionally helpful. You almost feel bad- You know your dad always makes sure he’s paid for his work, however; you felt like you, personally, had never thanked him properly.

Heck- You’d be happy to thank him quite thoroughly if you know what I mean… 

You could never shake the thoughts you've had since you two first locked eyes. A simple gesture sparking many moons of passionate yearning. Thinking about his muscular arms, his sculpted face and the dark tone of his restless voice. Perhaps even the sounds it would make if your hands wandered achingly slow down his solid chest and towards his big, hard, throbbing…

You wish! Your little crush on him was absolutely trampled on 2 years ago by the sly comment you heard him tell your parents one night. Apparently he had started dating again- probably found someone already, afterall, it has been 2 years..

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder if a beach party could be your chance- maybe not to do.. anything… but you could at least muster up the courage to ask him if he's taken or not.

Right?

You felt butterflies in your stomach, swearing this was a make or break decision.

It took hours of pacing and rapid texting-the night before- but finally you had picked out the perfect bikini for tonight.

It was baby-blue in a gingham print. The bikini itself tied together on both hips and one in-between your breasts- joining in a dainty little bow you had spent ages worrying if it didn't look “effortless enough.” It was cute enough to be semi casual while being mature enough that your relatives wouldn't keep acting like you were an actual child.

You couldn’t help but second guess yourself… Was the effort really worth it? It's just a small get together after all, why would you need to impress anyone?… 

Would you actually impress him?

Could you ever impress him?

*

In the blink of an eye, you gasped at the sudden grasp around your tits. Those hands were large and powerful. They were panicked- almost hesitant however he didn’t seem too keen on letting go. As the wave finished toppling over you two, Joel swiftly pulled you around to face him.

The sight was mouth watering.

Flushed bright red, Joel was quick to glare into your eyes- His were brimming with concern yet crystal clear with honesty and the determination to protect your honor. His hair was wet and sat tousled over his eyes. You couldn’t help but gaze at his bitten lip as he concentrated so deeply between the valley of your breasts- almost as if he was staring directly into your heart. 

It thumped as if it were about to explode.

It might have taken you a few moments to realize but before you could react, Joel was already bent down and trying to re-tie the center string of your bikini top. Being so far out- the waves were ruthless. They crashed over the two of you like an avalanche.

It felt near impossible to keep your balance with Joel tugging you towards him- all the while, the moving sea pulling you-two away from shore.

Instinctively, your hands steadied yourself on Joel’s shoulders. A pink blush spread throughout your face as you began to realize how truly naked you were.

His tanned, bare shoulders were strong and toned from years of strenuous work in the blistering sun. Your exposed stomach fluttering with a flight of butterflies. The memory of his careful touch against a place so sensitive…

His motoring hands slowly came to a stop. As soon as he went to stand up, you quickly dropped your arms. Not knowing where to place them, your hands checked the tight bows around your hips. Luckily, it seemed like your bikini bottoms were secure; however, your top was another story.

The look you gave him was less than impressed…

“Shut up.” He growled without hesitance.

Oh.

It was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

Cute, you thought.

You shot him back a sly smirk

For a man who spent so long hovering over your bust, his ability to tie the knot was sheepish. Joel had fixed a simple double knot, causing the remaining rope to dangle over your naval.

Letting out a quick sigh, you decided you had enough of the ocean for today. His eyes widened as he felt your brisk grasp on his arm- dragging him back to shore to the best of your ability.

*

Staring at your phone was useless. The mere thought of today's “incident” was enough to keep you running in circles. You sigh as you fall further into the plush cushions that lined the small sofa. Like many family functions, You've sought refuge in the same old fashioned living room. It was a cramped room tucked far within the back end of the house cluttered with old furniture. Fortunately, the abandoned room was silent compared to outside’s blaring ruckus. It was yours.

… at least, it was.

There in the door frame stood a familiar sight;

“Hey… can I speak to you,” Joel sighed, “about earlier today… I'm sorry for-”

“Groping me?” You snarked.

“God, give me a break would ‘ya,” His brows furrowed as his face slowly turned a light shade of pink, “It was either I did that or else you would’ve flashed everyone!”

For a moment, you get lost within the passionate emotion of his southern drawl. He’s so flustered; it almost seems as if he’s annoyed by you too. Maybe you were too calm? Maybe he was too embarrassed. Regardless, His outrage humored you more than you would like to admit- forcing a chuckle to erupt from within you.

“What? You think this is funny?” He spat- rolling his eyes.

"A little…”

…

The room sat still in deafening silence until…. “BAAHAHAHHAAHAAHAHA- oh my god, ok so maybe a lot,” you giggled, “I'm so sorry but really I don’t see why you care so much?”

Joel was practically fuming. Hot pink- he was humiliated “Get a grip!, damn you little-”

“Did you just tell me to get a grip? I would but it seems you’ve grabbed enough things today for the two of us-”

Before you had the chance to laugh, your eyes widened at the sight of the one and only Joel Miller rushing towards you with a salty smile and a couch pillow hurling towards you.

HWACK! You squealed at the sudden collision. Despite being a pillow, when punted hard enough at a victim, it proves itself as an effective weapon.

“GOT ‘YA!” He gasped- now standing over you. As you opened your eyes, they locked with his. 

Your mouth sat smug, readying yourself for a moment to strike back. His eyes! it was for a brief moment yet you were lucky enough to catch them darting down to your lips. 

Ha!

Your tactic: the element of surprise. When his gaze returned, it took all your power to summon the courage to muster out the question plastered across your heart for so long.

It was now or never, you assured.

“Jo- Mr Miller,” you stated, “this is so awkward but… I was wondering if you were in a relationship?”

“What's it to you?” He chuckled, shifting to rest his palm on the armrest beside you.

“I… um..” you tightened your grip on the pillow.

The look in his eyes was enough to tell you.

Fuck.

“Ah… shit.., look ‘sweetpea, y'know your daddy and I are buddies…” he tried telling you but he knew he couldn't steer you away.

“And? So what, I'm an adult,” You barked, “C'mon Joel- I really like you!”

The truth came bubbling out, you didn't expect to actually tell him. Not tonight. Not ever. Happily watching from the sidelines was a hobby- you imagined him in your future. Confessing to him; however, was never foreseen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

With your vision glossing over, this wave of dread was suffocating. Before you could excuse yourself, you felt his familiar grasp on your hand. Unlike before, his touch wasn't hesitant. Instead, his grip was determined, driven yet caring.

He grazed his thumb side to side across the back of your hand. His fingers kissing yours with each rough callous and soft intention.

The surprised action made your eyes widen, you raised your head up high only to see the sight of Joel Miller looking back at you like how one looks at a puppy- as if his heart had melted.

A bright pink flush and bitten lips, it was clear he had something to say stuck on the tip of his tongue. 

“Y/N.” 

“Joel.”

He bent down and held the side of your face. Dark and hazy, his eyes glazed over with ambition. “You're so pretty, y'know that?” He kissed onto your lips.

With that said, you stretched your arms up and placed them on his broad shoulders, merging your mouth with his. He nipped at your bottom lip, asking for entry. You gave in, allowing him access to explore each and every crevice with his tongue. 

Was it mere minutes or years you had been kissing for? You couldn't tell. Regardless, at some point you had to pry yourself apart in order to grant yourself a moment to breathe. Your lips felt so tender and bruised- God, how you missed his touch.

He fell to sit beside you, the old couch creaking as he sat down. “Do you normally make out with men twice your age?” He teased.

“Oh, Shut up!” you said before chucking the pillow at his chest with a loud thud.

[slaaverin]

I watched AYS for the first time since the show ended today as I was off work sick, and it hit me. They are together.

As in truly and utterly together.

Objectively speaking if anyone was to watch the show, at least the Japan episodes out of context, without knowledge, without prejudice, without malice, they would see a couple. I do know how this isn’t widely seen in the fandom, I’m assuming cult hate and delusion, and ignorance/homophobia, but it’s so so obvious, and I think Jimin and JK knew certain people would see them. I think they wanted that.

In the interest of finding said objectivity I got a friend to watch with me on Disney, and she asked if they were together. Case in point.

They went to a romantic and safe place, one which holds precious memories, where they saw their first snow, walking around like in a hallmark movie, eating good food together, and just being together. I’m not even talking about the train ride, or the hot tub, it’s just how they are. So entwined, they literally move together. They are so in sync, so domestic. This doesn’t come from thin air, or not seeing each other, this level of intimacy is not born of friendship however deep, it’s more.

Take the meal they have in their pjs. Who does that on a bros trip firstly? And then watching them there, it’s so cosy and cute. Jimin only has to pout about wanting more of one of the dishes, and it suddenly appears. Friends don’t do that, or not any that I know, it would be an individual decision, you’d be paying for yourself kinda vibe, not pouting and getting your own way. Same as in the grocery store in CT, Jimin points and rubs his tummy, and gets his way. It’s so cute and endearing.

The constant need to touch, I know about skinship, but this is so different, it’s innocent in someways like they are holding back, but the eyes don’t lie, and there were many moments you can see it truly in all it’s glory.

It’s just so romantic, none of the last three episodes had a bro vibe, neither did CT honestly, and the jeju episodes serve to highlight just how coupley they are.

All this to say I love their love.

Aahh anon what you say is music to my ears I agree with you 100% 👏🏻

I think most people from outside would see them as a couple. That's why it is so wild most people in the fandom are still in denial about this.

The level of intimacy, domesticity, the touches, the looks, the words, the tones, the way their personality are complimentary, the way everything matches between them, how happy they are together, how flirty they get, the little soft moments as well as the loud shocking ones; everything about them screams couple and long-term, stable love relationship.

Why people still do not see it is beyond me. I think it comes down to that they do not want to see it. Simple.

Because everything has been there for years if PEOPLE SIMPLY PAID ATTENTION and I had so much fear about AYS, because it would be blatantly obvious and it was. But I underestimated to which length and mental gymnastics people would do to stay in denial. Some people still managed to try to belittle their bond. How far are they willing to distort reality? How far are they willing to go for reality to fit their own fantasy or fit this fucking bro agenda bullshit? (I'm sick of it)

They are in love.

A part of me wishes everyone would see it. That everyone would get it and support it. But I know this is very selfish, an egoic way to prove everyone we were right all along. But there is nothing to prove. And it would not serve them. If everyone knew it would put them in danger. Because a lot of people aren't loving, and their own country would give them hell.

So maybe this is all a blessing, that just some of us see it and support in our own corner, maybe it's best it does not get too noisy.

I think jikook suspected it. I think a part of them counted on it. They observed the fandom and know how it operates.

Which all keeps them safe.

Those with open hearts and a clear vision saw how incredibly romantic AYS was.

Jikook even repeated it several times.

It was all so gentle and soft, funny and cute, with an ease and a comfort only truly loving partners can convey.

It was joy and happiness, seeing them together.

It was love in it's purest form.

They really bring out the best of each other.

Anyone not seeing this is a fool but to each their own I guess

I'm in love with their love too. It's only natural to be attracted to beauty, and with these two pure souls having a love such as theirs? It's simply magnificent.

AYS went beyond my expectations. There were many things that did not suprise me. But what truly surprised me is seeing..how to put it...the passage of time? The feeling that yes they have been together FOR A LONG TIME and it showed.

Because there was no rush. There was not the visceral need of young love. It was slow, careful, assured, known, tender. It was simple and natural. As easy as breathing.

They are completely intertwined with each other like it's supposed to be this way. And it is.

Isn't it all perfect? It's perfect. It's beautiful. It's pure love. They have butterflies. I have butterlies too.

They don't have anything to prove anymore. And I think there's no need for us to prove it either for any other part of the fandom that don't want to open their eyes to something that is STARING AT THEM IN THE FACE. Let them in their own lies. We know what is true and what is just and it's ok.

Jikook are happy so it's all fine with me.

They know some of us fully support their relationship and I guess it's enough for them.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts anon 💜

[vampirejuno]

Remember that discworld dream I had the other day? Well, lads.... I wrote it. At the encouragement of @catstrophysics, @lilenariinpink and @theygotlost, I present to you...

Something Fishy

His Grace, His Excellency, Sir Samuel Vimes the Duke of Ankh, Blackboard Monitor, sighed emphatically and tried to shoulder his way through the throng. Sator Square was packed with people. Never before in his life, he reflected, had he ever seen such a crowd turn up at six in the bloody morning to watch what was, essentially, a man tossing a dead fish onto the ground. Is this what passes for entertainment these days? he thought bitterly. We used to be a great city when it came to entertainment. After some further consideration of past greatness, he stopped, shook his head, and silently offered praise to whatever god was responsible for making sure it stayed in the past.

It had been a little over a month since the Fish Craze, and already Vimes wished he could permanently ban the import of all seafood into the city. Nobody remembered what had started it, but the fad had spread faster than wildfire, with no fashion-brigade to stop the madness. Everyone had taken it up. Even perfectly reasonable people, the kind that sneered at their grannies for fretting over a broken mirror, would, in all sincerity, say things like, “Thank goodness for another Right Day, I could use the luck”, or, more frequently, “No wonder it all went tits up, it was a Left Day”.

Vimes failed to see the appeal. The whole process consisted of taking a fish (preferably a sardine, though most made do with herring or, in desperate times, even anchovies), tossing it in the air, and checking which side up it landed. At first, everyone did it individually. This had led to much disagreement and, eventually, an event that would go down in history as “Most Organic Weapons Riot”. The watchmen who’d been on duty that night were given two days off to try and wash the smell out of their uniforms.

The following day, the Patrician had announced the instatement of an Official Fish Thrower, which soon turned into “the Offishal Tosser”, or simply “the Tosser”, and whose entire job it was to go into Sator Square every morning, toss a sardine for the city, and announce to the enraptured masses what sort of day they were going to have. It was rumored that the Tosser was a retired magician who had specialized in sleight of hand, and that he ensured the fish always landed precisely according to the Patrician’s specifications. Knowing Vetinari, Vimes thought, the man probably has a spreadsheet planned out for a month in advance.

His musings were interrupted by a current of movement in the crowd, which parted hastily to reveal a figure with a tray.

“Right Fish! Get your Right Fish! Guaranteed Day goes Right! Turn your day ‘round with just one toss!”

Vimes sighed. Only one man would try to sell you fish at the Offishal Tossing.

“Morning, Throat,” he said distantly. There was a commotion at the front of the crowd as people tried to dislodge someone from the Tosser’s podium. It looked like an Omnian preacher had taken advantage of the audience to spread the good word to the unenlightened masses, whether they liked it or not.

“A good morning to you, Commander! Can I interest you in some nice sardines? Three for tuppence, and that’s cutting my own throat!”

Vimes risked a glance at the tray as Ankh-Morpork’s least successful merchant approached him in a hopeful sidle. It was laden with row upon row of little strangely misshapen fish. Picking one up and turning it over in his fingers, Vimes saw the reason for this. Someone had taken some pains to cut them in two lengthwise, discarded all the left halves, and rejoined the things by gluing two right halves together with some mysterious sticky substance. He put it back down and inconspicuously wiped his hand on his trousers. Like many of Dibbler’s products, it was precisely what you paid for.

“Sardine? Seems more like smelt to me.”

“Yes, very fragrant, indeed,” said the merchant without missing a beat. “Perhaps some fish’n’chips, then, Commander? Only ten pence for our brave lads in the Watch!”

I don’t think I’m that brave, Vimes thought. Aloud, he said, “Is that where the left halves go, then?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir. Ah, hello, miss, you look like you could do with a nice nourishing breakfast! Some delicious fish’n’chips to start the day off right, how about it?”

The crowd was so packed now – hah, like sardines in a can – that Vimes gave up all hopes of pushing through it. Most of these people had turned up early to get a good spot and were now whiling the minutes away until the much-awaited Tossing. There was a conversation taking place just behind him, where an argument of Morporkians was standing around, doing what it did best. The current object of ire appeared to be a young man’s drawling voice, which was questioning Tradition.

“-don’t see why we couldn’t put a new spin on it. This is…too restrictive, like.”

“How’s that, then?”

“It’s just awfully specific, is all I’m saying.”

“What are you babbling about, Harold?” responded a higher, slightly irritated voice that instantly filed itself away as “unhappy wife” in Vimes’s copper brain.

“I mean, why’s it got to be a sardine? Why not a, uh,” the young man cast around for seafood-related ideas, “a crab, or something?”

“Come now, that’d never work,” a stout little man next to him laughed good-naturedly. He was smoking a pipe and had the look of someone who used words like “indubitably” and “perfunctory” despite only having a very approximate idea of what they meant. “Crabs are not remotely suitable for the task.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Well-known fact,” nodded the crustacean connoisseur. “Divination is congenitally tied to the noble art of fishing, you know. It’s called forecasting, after all.”

There were more nods and approving laughs. The man puffed on his pipe with a chuckle, clearly satisfied with the pun. Vimes managed not to punch him.

“Y’know, that sounds about right. Never ‘eard of someone telling the future with a crab,” an old woman nodded wisely. “You never know where you are with crabs. Now, fish, that’s reliable.”

The group pondered this.

“Look at it this way. We’ve had, what, twenty-three Left Days so far – not counting Floppy Friday* – and every single time, somethin’ bad happened.”

The others murmured their agreement. There were several thoughtful comments recounting various misfortunes that the participants had suffered on past Left Days. Vimes pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This is Ankh-Morpork, something bad is always happening.”

“Right, that’s what I’m saying,” nodded the young man, who hadn’t been saying that. “Besides, plenty of perfectly good fortune tellers in the city. A man tossing a sardine on the cobbles is not a valid method of divination, in my humble opinion.”

“Harold, you are embarrassing me.”

“Oh, come off it, Mathilda, you got by just fine without any of this business for thirty years of your life. Now it’s all Sardines this, Herring that, Why don’t we get an ornamental trout lake-”

At that moment, the Offishal Tosser stepped onto his little podium, and the couple was shushed into outraged silence. 

* * *

“Come on, before ol’ Stoneface gets here. You know he doesn’t approve of this sort of thing.”

The Pseudopolis Yard watch house was buzzing with excitement uncharacteristic for six in the morning on a Wednesday. Most of the night shift had signed off and the day guard were trickling one by one into the main room. An ever-growing group was clustered in a vague circle, in the center of which Corporal Nobbs could just be made out (if that was your idea of a good time). The men all had the vague air of middle school students asking their teacher about his dog in order to delay math class by another five minutes.

“Might that have anything to do with the fact that, last time, it took three hours and a bucket of armour polish to get the smell out of the floorboards?” Angua smiled. It was a very friendly smile.

“Right, sarge, but… We-ell, you’re…”

“Yes?” The smile widened.

Constable Fernsby shifted uncomfortably. There were a few sniggers. It was true that werewolves had considerably sharper senses than humans and would therefore be able to smell a fish long after it had departed the material plane, but, the sniggers seemed to indicate from a safe distance, you didn’t go around pointing this out to them. Fortunately for the boy, he was saved from any further smiles by a very timely interruption in the form of the Captain.

“Good morning! Everyone had a nice rest, I hope? Ready for another day of work?”

Carrot strutted in, wearing his usual genuine smile and gleaming armor. There was a not-so-subtle change in the atmosphere; a sudden nonchalantness enveloped the room. All around him, the squad commenced their very best impression of the Walls And Ceiling Inspection Division. One or two of the simpler lads even clasped their hands behind their backs and started to whistle**. Carrot sighed.

“Alright, what did you do?... And don’t look at me like that, I can see something smells fishy here.”

This was greeted with one or two coughs and a sudden interest in last night’s heaps of paperwork. Only Lance-Constable Whippet, who had joined three days ago and was, therefore, not yet acquainted with the minutiae of his commanding officers’ tempers, and sergeant Detritus, who could be a little slow on the uptake, met the captain’s inquisitive gaze. Finally, he looked to Angua for help. She shrugged meaningfully.

“Well… er,” said Sergeant Colon, who felt obliged to make some sort of contribution on behalf of his insubordinates, “we was just…engaging in some…cultural activities, captain. To boost morale for the day, like. Er.”

Carrot sniffed at the air – never a very good idea in a watch house, where, at any given point in time, half the men had just returned from patrolling and the other half were emerging from the locker room – and understanding began to dawn.

“Ah, I see. And I expect, Sergeant, that such…team-building activities are best carried out without the involvement or presence of, say, senior officers?”

“Could be, sir. I’m sure you’d know best, sir.” Colon’s big round face was a picture of cherubic innocence.

“Well, in that case, I believe Sergeant Angua and I have a case to attend to. Corporal Thighbiter up at Dolly Sisters needed some help with that Money Trap Lane break-in...”

“Actually, he just sent word the other day – it turned out Mister Mason had got drunk and lost his key again and crashed through the oomph-” Constable Ping bent over slightly from several democratic elbows in the ribs. With a true officer’s tact, Carrot feigned temporary deafness. He held the door for Angua, who detached herself from the wall with one last pleasant smile that could’ve cut steel, and the two stepped out briskly into the safety of fresh air***.

After they had gone, the squad waited a few moments and then turned back to the center of the room, where someone had dragged a mysteriously stained stool from the canteen when the kitchen lady wasn’t looking. Corporal Nobbs was shuffled towards it with extreme care.

The little man**** dusted himself off and scrambled onto the rickety stool. As the other watchmen leaned in closer, he reached into the unspeakable depths of his inner pockets and, with a certain air of ceremony, produced…

“A sardine!”

“Cor, is that real?”

“Dat a very small fish.”

“Where did you get it, corp?”

Nobby basked in the approving murmurs of his colleagues. It had, indeed, been a challenge to find – sardines were very rare these days, outside of the occasional coveted freak shower – but he was nothing if not resourceful.

“We-ell, it weren’t easy, that’s true,” he rolled a dog-end from one corner of the mouth to the other, savoring the moment. He rarely commanded so much attention without attracting a variety of insults and the occasional ballistic eel. “Pays to know the right people, o’course. I have connections, me. Contacts. Ties, even.”

“Aye, but that floral one you nicked last week really don’t suit you very well.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Stronginthearm. All your accessories are made of chainmail! Everyone knows jewel tones are for winter, anyway.”

Colon raised a placating hand. “All right, all right, lads, no need to get all up in arms just ‘cos some folks are a little…stylistically challenged.”

“Thanks, sarge.”

“I meant you, Nobby.”

The corporal threw up his arms. “I go to all this trouble,” he wailed, “I talk to people, I find a contraband seafood shipment from Klatch, I explain matters to the fishmonger – on my day off, too, might I add – I procure a real, genuine, only-slightly-nibbled actual sardine, and this is the thanks I get?”

The watchmen watched, transfixed, as he flourished the fabled fish in their faces. It had, indeed, already been chewed on; the tail was sticking out rigidly and the whole thing smelled as if it was a few weeks beyond consumption, but it was a sardine nonetheless. Most of the lads, coming from humble (and sometimes humbling) backgrounds, felt slightly awed at the idea of Tossing a fish that these days was available only to the very richest observers of the fad. It was, they felt, unbecoming to wave it around like a paper flag at a parade. The damn things tended to be slippery. Probably would be bad luck, they figured, if it was flung down by accident; who knew what sort of fortune that would foretell?

“Where’s the appreciation, I ask you?” Nobby continued in woeful tones. “Every time I’ve Tossed a fish for you lot, it’s landed Right! Now, how many of you can say that, eh?”

The watchmen exchanged doubtful glances.

“Er… Well, you never let anyone else do it, corp,” Ping reasoned. “You just nicks the fish and eats it afterwards.”

“Oh, now, that does it! I won’t stand here and be slandered at!”

“Woah there, Nobby, watch that sardine-”

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I’m not doing it. And good luck finding someone who’ll do it as well as me!”

“Careful with that-”

“And I’m taking the sardine.”

“-not the tail-”

 “You can beg, but I won’t change my mind, and that’s that!” Nobby flung out his hand in a grandiose gesture. Unfortunately, it was the wrong hand.

Time slowed to a crawl. Every head in the room swiveled as one, following the trajectory of the airborne fish. It sailed head first towards the front door, which was creaking, doorknob turning, and slowly, slowly opening…

* * *

The Offishal Tosser tossed the fish, which landed damply. There was a satisfying splat. The crowd held its breath as the first few rows near the podium craned to see.

“Today is the fourth of April in the year of the Significant Woodlouse, and it is a… Left Wednesday!” the man proclaimed.

A disappointed groan spread through the crowd. Slowly, people started dispersing with occasional complaints, casting sour looks at the offending fish. Here and there, members of the Gamblers’ Guild were exchanging coins.

Vimes shook his head again as the grumbling current carried him through the square, into the Plaza of Broken Moons, and out to the Patrician’s palace. At last he disengaged himself from the throng and elbowed his way towards the Brass Bridge. It wasn’t far to the watch house from here, but he still picked up the pace. Despite not having official working hours, Vimes liked to get there early in the morning, just as the day shift was coming in, to get a headstart on ignoring his paperwork.

As he walked, his copper mind took over and he mentally leafed through the agenda of the day. Let’s see, what was there… He had that audience with Vetinari at eleven, probably concerning last night’s diplomatic dinner – not that it was Vimes’s fault that he saw the unlicensed thief and that the Klatchian ambassador happened to be standing there, and anyway who drinks red wine while wearing a white robe… Then the interview with the Times at noon… Then briefing the lads on the unsolved contraband seafood case… Then he’d have to do something about the river division, they can’t just keep sinking the damn boat, this is getting ridiculous…

A distant glint caught Vimes’ eye as he stepped off the bridge. Carrot’s shiny breastplate could be seen from a mile away on a clear day, and the captain was, indeed, proceeding along the river with Angua in tow. 

What the hell are they doing out? They’re not on patrol today…

Briefly, he considered catching up to them, but then dismissed the idea. They were only a couple streets away from the watch house, and Carrot seemed relaxed enough, stopping to chat with every other passer-by in his usual manner. No emergency, then. On the other hand, they had a batch of new recruits at the main office, the gods alone knew what those yahoos would be getting up to without a senior officer present. And under Colon’s command…

A few minutes later, Vimes was rounding the corner of Lower Broadway and trotting up the steps of Pseudopolis Yard. There seemed to be quite a commotion going on inside; he’d heard the shouting from half a block away. With his hand on the doorknob, mentally preparing his best Not Yelling Voice, he pushed the door open…

…and very briefly saw something shiny flying full speed at his head. Before he could react, the thing clanked off his helmet, bounced on a nearby desk and, finally, lodged itself between the floorboards with a sproinnnng.

Silence fell like a gavel. A dozen horrified watchmen gaped at their Commander, the life quickly draining out of their eyes*****. Sergeant Colon’s face, pale as the moon and just as round, tried unsuccessfully to hide behind his high collar.

Wordlessly, Vimes approached the thing stuck between the floorboards. He crouched down. He examined it. He gave it a tentative flick. It made a noise not unlike a ruler twanging off the side of a table, or a very thin sheet of metal being shaken vigorously. After a moment’s contemplation, he felt moved to speak.

“Well, lads, I don’t think Left and Right suffices anymore. Seems we ought to add a third Day to the list.”

Ahhh. Relief rose off the squad like morning mist. Their laughter had the strained quality that came with trying very hard to pretend that whatever was happening was entirely intentional. At this point, they’d have laughed at anything, as long as it meant Ol’ Stoneface was Not Yelling At Them. Whatever they may think to themselves, the one motivation that all coppers in all the worlds have in common is to Not Get Yelled At.

“Bottom Day, sir?” someone suggested. There was another bout of slightly forceful sniggers.

“Er… Perhaps not.” Vimes gave the fish a few fruitless tugs and gave up. “Alright, someone get this damn thing out of there and, uh…”

“Throw it away, sir?”

“No, good gods, you could hurt someone… Look, just get rid of the…fish and we’ll say no more about it. Fred, a word upstairs?”

With the watch house returning slowly to its normal daily bustle, Vimes went up to his office and sat down wearily at his desk, which was hidden underneath an impressive pile of paper. He’d signed a few dozen forms and…dealt with half a fireplace’s worth of complaint letters last night, but the stacks looked suspiciously bigger this morning. They entirely refused to melt away under his glare.

“Alright, what is this bloody nonsense? I thought I’d made it clear I don’t want any Tossing in the watch house,” he said to Colon, once the man had huffed and puffed his way up the stairs.

“Well, Mister Vimes, I just thought I’d indulge the lads this once. Raise their spirits with some good ol’ cultural team building. For tradition’s sake and all.”

“Tradition? It’s not been two months, Fred!”

“We-ell, they’ve taken to it, sir. Besides, you can’t deny we’ve had crimes happen on every single Left Day since the Offishal Tossings started.”

“Good grief, you could say that about every bloody day since the founding of the city! I thought you weren’t a superstitious man, Fred.”

“No, sir, but the fish don’t lie,” said Colon fervently.

“Ugh. Next thing you know, the bloody Times will be printing it alongside the bloody date in their bloody papers.”

There was a guilty silence.

Vimes stared at the sergeant’s carefully blank face. A single droplet of sweat was slowly making its way down the man’s forehead. The beady little eyes flickered momentarily to a relatively unoccupied corner of the desk.

With a sinking dread, Vimes followed his gaze and beheld a newspaper lying there on top of the forlorn paperwork, all neatly rolled and still crisp from the press. Belatedly, he noticed the smell of fresh ink. At the top of the front page, a small print line proclaimed today’s date to be April 4th, Left Wednesday.

Five minutes later, sergeant Colon walked down the stairs and into a perfectly silent room full of watchmen. His face had the distant look of someone who had just seen a ghost, and was fairly sure everybody else had, too, but would be damned if he’d mention it first.

With nothing else to do, he cleared his throat. This seemed to break the spell; all at once, the room regained its normal level of noise as the coppers went back to their coppery activities. Only Nobby sidled closer and offered up a slightly bent cigar.

“What’s up with ol’ Stoneface today, sarge?”

“Dunno what’s gotten into him.” Colon took the cigar gratefully and lit it, trying not to think too hard about where it came from. “It’s this job, I expect. All this responsibility is wearing on his nerves.”

“Ah, right.”

“I mean, what’s so wrong with a little tradition once in a while, eh?”

“Beats me, sarge.”

“Doesn’t hurt no one, having some mores and values ‘round the place.”

“You never said a truer thing.”

“Ah, anyway, Mister Vimes is just overworked. Not his fault he’s got a bit of a cultural blind spot when he’s cranky,” Colon concluded magnanimously. “Maybe he could do with a coffee and a nice meal. I know I could… Say, Nobby, what’ve we got for breakfast in the cantine today?”

“Fish’n’chips, I think. Er… You alright there, sarge? …Sarge?”

* An unfortunate misunderstanding at the fishmonger’s that had led to the Offishal Tosser being handed a very live fish, foreboding a day of extreme mood swings for the populace.

** This is the social cue equivalent of climbing onto the roof at three in the morning and setting off a barrage of fireworks while waving an enormous fluorescent red flag. Not even a 6’6’’ dwarf could remain oblivious.

*** Only comparatively. This was Ankh-Morpork, after all.

**** Allegedly.

***** Except for Corporal Shoe, for whom it was a little late******.

****** heh.

[tcrocky14]

ONESHOT: MERRILY ALONG—tennis! star x Paige

((Okay I’ve been writing on Wattpad and never thought to put my work on tumblr so here we go! Plz be gentle I’m still new at this but I love manifesting life with P))

———————————————————————————-

After the 2024 WTA Finals(which you won) you were excited for a real break. Grant you it's less than a month, and most of that will be spent doing sponsorship work and photo shoots, but you still couldn't wait.

After winning the Finals, you hopped on a plane to Miami still wearing your photo shoot dress from winner's photos. You were so excited to be sleeping on your own bed and to see your family. Life could slow down at least a little before you were back on Tour.

You were given two weeks to truly rest and exercise like a normal person before training would start back. You planned to visit Paige, but her season at UCONN was really just beginning. The timing couldn't have been worse but you knew she felt most comfortable on the court, just like you.

Since college basketball was firing up, her name was beginning to really skyrocket in the press. And her partnerships were increasing too. With you as the highest paid athlete in women's sports and P as the highest paid CWBB player, you were unstoppable!

Her shoe with Nike just dropped and you genuinely cried the day every player for UCONN wore them at their game! You wish you could wear them for a day for support but New Balance is your shoe home. It's so surreal that P has a shoe while in college but you believe she's always meant to break records and set trends. You're just happy the world mainly agrees with you on that.

On December 21st, UCONN & USC play each other, at arguably the biggest game of the year. You knew you wanted to be there because everyone's eyes would be on Paige and JuJu, which could get stressful. Maybe having you there as moral support would make it a bit better .  She's born for the world stage, but that doesn't mean you don't worry about her mental health.

You promised your team that you'd be back in Miami right after Christmas. They wanted you to play United Cup, especially since you didn't plan on defending the ASB Classic title , but you were prioritizing your relationship....for once.

This is Paige's (likely) last year in college and you want to be there for her. There's so many moments you both have to miss because of your athletic careers, and it's easy to feel disconnected when you're constantly in different time zones. Once she's in the WNBA, it'll hopefully be more flexible and you'll spend more time together. 

But for now, you weren't going to miss big moments for a WTA250 or United Cup. Your team wasn't the happiest about your plans, and tried convincing you to change your mind. But it was already set: you'd fly to Storrs, CT that day and watch Paige. Then you'd both fly out to Minnesota to see her family for Christmas. Her next game is the 27th so you'll fly back to Miami while she goes back to school. Even a few days together has you anxious to remind her exactly why being long distance is worth it.

You haven't told her, but you've picked out the perfect presents for her dad, stepmom, and Drew. You've also found something for your perfect gf. Drew has a game of his own the very day after her game, so you guys will be jet-lagged but supporting him. You've met Paige's family a few times now but you still feel jittery before arriving. You don't know why because they're the nicest people, yet you always want to show you're a great girlfriend with good energy.

——————-

You were still in Miami trying to pick out what you could wear to the game Saturday. It was Thursday night so you needed to start packing, especially since you wanted to pack light. Living life basically out of a suitcase made packing during the offseason a disgusting experience. The less you had to travel the better, yet it seemed you were never home for more than a few days. The life of a "celebrity" was taxing and companies knew offseason was a better time for your brand dealings. You wished you could do photo shoots  from home but you try to remember how many people would KILL to be in your position.

For the game, you're thinking of a look you saw Bella Hadid wear a few years back. A green NorthFace jacket with black barrel jeans and black loafers. You'll definitely be wearing your glasses to the game for an even more comfortable experience. Then, for traveling to Minnesota and for Drew's game you'll wear an oversized grey New Balance sweatshirt with sweatpants and a camo hat. Cute-comfy— your favorite!

You began folding the clothes not so neatly when your sister came in. She's back home from Tulane for the holidays and you're really going to miss her the few days you're gone. Having a younger sister is one of the best things in life and you miss when she's away for college. Although you guys text and call each other almost everyday it's different when she's in person.

"Whatcha doing??," Anna asked, using her best Isabella voice from Phineas and Ferb. "Packing for my trip and failing to fold my clothes neatly," you said. You're definitely going to need a steamer when you travel because your clothes are going to be wrinkled from this lazy folding.

"I wish I could come with you!" Anna said. And honestly, if it was just to watch the game, you'd for sure bring your sister along. But Christmas at the Bueckers' house is for their family only and you're just getting used to joining.

Most of the time, Paige visits your family because she loves the Miami weather and enjoys the area. It's difficult in Minnesota when it's cold more often than not and her family has normal jobs .

The Heller family feels like it orbits your tennis career, something you wish wasn't true but definitely is. Tennis is so demanding, even compared to other sports, and your family has sacrificed a lot for you to continue being a top player. Basketball is difficult and can be expensive, but college helps ease the journey a lot. While Paige is at UCONN her family still maintains a normal life. While for you, the matches and your traveling schedule can affect everything.

That's why this Christmas is so special. You have a few days to hang out casually before the holiday and really soak it what being a Bueckers is like. You'd never tell anyone right now, but you're hoping this is practice for the rest of your life. Although it's only been a year, you picture growing with Paige and starting a family of your own. You look at people like Stewie and can't help but hope to have a little family of your own someday. Being in good cahoots with her family right now is important and luckily, it's been great so far

—————————

Friday passes quickly, thank God, because you leave for CT Saturday morning. The plane ride is a bit bumpy but it's the cold that stings the most. As soon as you step off the plane you're hit with the bite of a Connecticut winter. It felt weird boarding the plane in multiple layers but you're so happy you didn't dress Miami-Style for this trip.

Since it's the day of the game, Paige has practice most of the day. That means her good friend Kayla volunteers to pick you up, and you're very excited. As a fellow Black girl, you and Kayla get along too good. Each conversation leads to cackling and you even have a few inside jokes together. As much as KK and Ice are your girls, Kayla's super cool people. AND she's not on the team, so she can help with times like this!

You wait for your luggage and a teenager comes up asking for a picture. She seems shell-shocked from meeting you, something you never get used to. You're almost positive the picture will be on "Frances Heller" and "Paige Bueckers" fan accounts in the next hour. People will surely speculate but this is a big game, and who can blame you for wanting to see it in person?

You spot Kayla, or rather hear her music, right when you step outside the airport gate. She gets out to help with your luggage but you've only brought two carry-ons: your Glossier duffle and a New Balance black backpack. Like you said: packing light was key for this trip.

You guys catch up on all things life before pulling into the apartment complex Kayla and the girls live in. You go to text Paige you've made it but you see she's already texted that she's in practice, but can't wait to see you.

"She was obsessing over your location on the Find app," Kayla says. "She literally was refreshing it every second before they had practice even though SHE KNEW you were on the plane and undetectable."

Just hearing Paige's name makes your heart beat faster. It's corny, you know it is, but imagine being so in love with someone and NEVER getting to see them. You can literally count on your hands how often you and Paige see each other throughout the year and that's with big compromises in both schedules.

You go up to Kayla's apartment and patiently (very impatiently) wait for bball practice to be over. Since it's game day, there's one short-ish practice during the day and then real practice before game time. You mimic Paige and begin refreshing all the apps you guys communicate through: text, Snapchat, Find, anything to see whether she's out.

Eventually, her DND status on text goes away and Kayla has to watch you become an absolute fool as you wait for your girlfriend. Paige gets back and knocks on Kayla's door which you open with every cell in your body.

"FRANNY!" "SWEET P!" You two collide into one another with the same energy. The hug says: "I miss you, I love you, how are you?, all at once. It's like every event and moment that's been missed since the last time you've seen another culminated into a tight hug that lasts forever.

"I miss you so so so much Paige," you say, trying not to cry. You're not necessarily sad, just overwhelmed and relieved . You can feel in her hug that she must feel the same, and any insecurities from a long-distance relationship go away like a puff of smoke.

You go back to their apartment while Paige makes a quick snack. Once she's finished eating. She lets you know she misses you in another way. Thank goodness you can't detect blushing on your skin tone because you feel like you're about to burst into flames.

It's been SO LONG since you've been intimate with anything besides a silicone toy and you miss Paige's body. After her shower at the facilities, her hair is still wet and slightly curly. It's one of your favorite looks on her and doesn't help your desire to absolutely devour her.

She tries to casually insinuate your unexpected trip to the car but everyone knows what's going on. You'd rather have sweet moments in her bed, but it'd be unfair to her teammates/roommates. And you can't kick everyone out of the apartment either, totally not cool. So instead you head out to Paige's Grand Cherokee at an excited pace and allow her to drive you to the back of the parking lot.

It's still romantic with the snow falling and your tight space to work with. She turns on the warmers in the SUV and asks you to head to the backseats. Her playlist designed for these *moments* begins playing softly and you savor every minute in the backseat of her car....

———————-

Once you guys finished (no pun intended) you head (maybe a bit puny) back upstairs. You try taming your hair and fixing your swollen lips as best you can. But let's face it, the women in this apartment are going to absolutely clown you both.

"Oh y'all back? It's been almost an hour! Where'd you say y'all was going again??" Kk, per usual, is the first person to say something. Everyone else smirks to one another and Jana even films to put on her private SC later.

"We was busy." That's all Paige says as she blushes, smirks, and daps up Ice and KK. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she exemplifies pure fukboy energy. You so badly want to hate it but it's kinda hot...which she definitely knows because she continues smirking in your direction. You sit next to her and try to redirect the conversation to ANYTHING else but it takes a minute.

They're superstitious about talking about the game so it's talk about your stuff instead. You tell them your plans with Paige for the next few days and how preseason warmups are coming along. Before you  know it, everyone's getting up because it's time for pregame. You give Paige a million kisses as she gets ready to leave and then wait around until it's time to get dressed and leave.

—————-

You're not sure Paige would love your mode of transportation to the game but what else could you decide? Uber's are booked the entire way and the school shuttles are only for actual students. If you didn't have to show a school ID you would've hopped on or hoped a driver was being super nice but few have even passed. So instead, you're walking to the XL arena.

It's really not that far, so you don't mind the walk. Except for the fact that it's FREEZING. You can feel the inevitable sickness building in your body as you continue walking but that's what you do for love. You'd laugh at how ridiculous you feel, if you could feel your face.

Finally you get to the game and it's beyond packed. You knew it was a big game and sold out but it's bonkers trying to get inside. Even with a special pass you have to wait to get inside, letting the frost continue to harass you.

Once you make it inside you see a few girls get out their phones to video your entrance. It's weird, because you feel slightly conceded about it. But you also feel violated. And you never feel quite important enough to be taped walking into a gym. Yet here you are, and there's the phones capturing every moment.

You're not sitting courtside since that's reserved for paying members. Instead, you're a few rows up. Nothing crazy, but not on the ground. You realize how awkward you feel without somebody tagging along and wish you maybe would've brought your sister. Or even your twin Jack. But what would they do while you loved up on Paige all day?

So instead you got on your phone and waited for the starting lineup presentation. You filmed the whole thing and couldn't even hear the announcer say Paige's name because of the screams. It made you feel so special being Paige's girl when plenty of college girls, and adult women, fought for her attention. From shirts and fathead signs to homemade posters, it was obvious she grabbed people's attention.

From the moment the game began, UCONN had a difficult time. You didn't know why, but something just wasn't clicking that clearly worked better for USC. You really like JuJu Watkins and had a hard time rooting exclusively for UCONN, but your girl comes first.

After fighting tooth and nail they finally started coming back. With 8 seconds left, the game was only being won by two points . You knew how badly Paige wanted to win, with the country watching....if not the world. But sometimes, it's not just about who wants it. Being a super-senior meant Paige had some great highs and some lower-lows. This, would in fact, become a low.

—————

It was obvious how frustrated P was with herself. She was SO hard on herself, as most athletes are. But as the oldest on the team, she really felt like she was letting everyone down. You could see it in her demeanor and how she spoke to press. You only hoped she'd be able to see all the positives from the game and release herself from the pressure of it all. It's much easier than it looks though, you know from experience.

After speaking to Fox sports and Holly Rowe, Paige was making her way over to you. A literal LINE OF PEOPLE had formed while she was being interviewed who wanted to take pictures and get her autograph. You knew she wouldn't leave till everyone was satisfied, something you admired about her. Each person felt important in her eyes and she made sure to let them know. How lucky you were to be with someone so humble and kind to anyone.

She told the crowd to wait one sec as she walked over to your section. Now you really knew people would film  this and talk about it for a while. But honestly , who cares. You were shocked she even saw you in the section because of how intense the game had been.

The security guard removed the tape so Paige could slip by and give you a big hug. You whispered in her ear that she was so amazing and you hoped she'd known how bright she shines on the court. She nodded but didn't seem affected by your words which kind of stung. You knew at least be a few hours had to pass before she was truly cheery again, right now was just a performance of her fans.

She asked you to wait around until they were leaving the arena and to join them on the team bus. You felt like this was a big overstep and didn't want to piss Geno off, especially after the loss. You made her promise it was fine and already approved before you agreed to join them on the bus.

The rest of the night was a blur until suddenly, you were laying on Paige's purple sheets with her head on your chest. You continued to stroke her head and tried falling asleep because your flight tomorrow was super early.

———————————-

At the airport, a few fans asked for pics with you and Paige. It was so funny how fans of Paige began "stanning" you like an extra piece to the Paige puzzle. At 5 in the AM you only could pray you didn't look awful in the fan photos since you knew that'd be on social media later. After taking pics you sat at the terminal and then boarded the plane. It really wasn't a bad experience, even with a connecting flight.

Paige's dad picked y'all up and you could tell she missed Minnesota. With the photoshoots and games and everything else she visited home less and less. When her dad got out of the car she turned into Baby P again, rushing to her dad's arms. It was so sweet and made you feel fuzzy that she collapsed in his hug. Maybe she was feeling better now!

Mr. Bueckers brought you into the hug and the three of you laughed as people watched. He was arguably the coolest guy in Minnesota besides Gov. Waltz. You guys left the airport and picked up Culver's on the way to Drew's game. Even with an early flight you guys were making it right on time.

Drew's game was so well and they won! Even better, Drew won MVP and got a comically large MVP chain to wear. You guys gassed him up hard and he blushed the entire time. It was cute seeing Paige loving on Drew like a child of her own. ...you really needed to stop thinking about Mommy P and focus lol.

——————-

Once Christmas rolled around, you'd gotten comfortable at the Bueckers house. The past few days had been so chill yet never boring. And you didn't feel like you were walking on eggshells around the family.

You wore an Oxford shirt with a sweater vest over it tucked into a plaid mini skirt with black tights. You looked adorable, like a Christmas present.

Y'all went to church and then headed home to unwrap presents. Drew wanted to open presents before Mass but it was way too early for that.

You got Paige's parents a gift they'd told her about a while back, a bar cart and a Baristia machine to make cocktails. Drew got a new game for his PS5 and promised to play with you whenever you were in town.

For Paige, you got her a custom stack of cards with paintings of you guys on it. She always loved sentimental gifts more than expensive ones and she really liked this! You also gave her a Tiffany necklace similar to yours with F+P engraved inside. She put it on and never took it off, even to sleep.

————

After a full day of festivities and meeting a few Bueckers you'd never met, it was time to go to bed. It was hard to fall asleep because tomorrow, you'd be on your way back to Miami and she'd be going back to UCONN. These few days were so good, you wish you could bottle them up for when you miss her most.

Right before you start falling asleep she tells you she has one more gift for you. She reaches in her bag and pulls out the most adorable stuffed bunny in a Christmas outfit. She gives you the bunny and tells you to press on her paw. When you do, Paige's voice starts to speak.

"Anytime you miss me, just press the paw, and I'll be right there!" She gives you the cutest little smile while she waits to see if you like her extra gift. "ALSO, I sprayed her clothes with some of my perfume, so hopefully she'll smell like me for a while too."

You try not to cry your eyes out at the audacity of your girlfriend to be so sweet. You never would've thought of such a unique and kind gift.

"Thank you so much Paige, I love it!" You see her relax a bit at her successful gift. "I can't believe you're real sometimes, you're too good to me!"

You don't meant to sound insecure or anything, but she shuts anything like that down. "I'm so happy we're together Franny, I'd go to the moon for you."

"Maybe even the North Pole?" You joke, since it's Christmas.

"I go to college in the middle of nowhere Connecticut Frances, that's basically the North Pole."

You two laugh and then settle into a comfortable sleeping pattern. You know tomorrow you'll have to say goodbye at least for 2-3 months. But right now, you can't think of a life without Paige Bueckers in it.

——-❤️‍🔥END❤️‍🔥——-

🎄Happy Holidays!

[causenessus]

new grounds

part 0.6. TOXIC TRAIT . . . 1.5.2024

PLAYING IN THE CAFE . . . atomic vomit by steve lacy

it’s 10 o’clock. not in the afternoon, at night. she’s huddled in a corner next to keiji, the both of them leaning on each other and periodically dozing off and then shaking the other awake. 

kageyama is a few feet away from her on her right, playing with his hands as they wait for their manager who is late as per usual.

yachi is a little more energetic, sitting a chair’s distance away on keiji’s side, swinging her feet as she scrolls on her phone. she giggles at something which draws all of their attention.

“akaashi,” she says, turning towards him. “do you want to tell me about this condom thing?”

“oh god,” keiji removed his arm from around y/n’s shoulder to cover his face with his hands. 

y/n laughs as she sits upright in her chair, it had only happened a few days before, but it felt like forever ago.

“what more is there to say? keiji’s tweet summed it up pretty good,” she answers and keiji groans at the thought.

kageyama tries his best not to look as he listens. his phone is buzzing with texts from a group chat. his friends are trying to encourage him to talk to her after he told them she was here. but he can’t. instead, he’s on google researching condoms and microphones, something he never thought he’d be doing. ever.

then a bell chimes as the door opens and their manager walks in, a small corduroy bag around her shoulders over a white puffer jacket. 

“happy holidays, sorry i’m late,” she slings off her bag as she talks.

everything is pointless here. they’re all pretending to listen to her as if they respect her and she’s pretending like she actually does her job. but maybe that’s all his opinion.

“this last year was pretty good. we lost some people but you’re all new additions and you’ve been handling this great. i help out when i need to, i accommodate when you guys need some days off…” it was slowly transitioning into statements about her, which she realized and quickly cleared her throat, pulling out a folder. “the only things i can say is you all need to do better about getting to work on time and calling out. if you’re all gonna call out one day at least tell me a day ahead or something. it’s not like i can stop you guys from doing it, just don’t make it a habit,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “i think that was all, if you guys can hang out here for 20 minutes more, we’ll all get paid extra. everything’s free today for you guys, so if you want anything just let me know and i’ll make it for you.”

y/n settles back down into her chair with a steaming chai latte, curling back up against keiji, whose sipping on a brewed green tea. yachi is happy with a hot chocolate, and kageyama has a mug of warm milk in his hand.

none of them want caffeine right now, it’s too late. they all just want to go home but they aren’t going to miss out on being paid just for sitting around.

but something bothers her about the fact that kageyama’s been on his phone this whole time. he keeps texting someone, she assumes, and for some reason that sits wrong with her. she wants to know what’s going through his head and who he’s talking to. a part of her wishes he would look at her, or ask how she’s doing.

maybe that’s asking for too much, it sounds comedic just thinking about it. he’s never talked to her more than he needed to. he’s never been one to say “how are you?” but maybe after her havoc on twitter, she thought he’d be more interested.

he's unlike anyone she's ever met, and maybe that's what makes her care so much. she's never cared so much about what anyone thought, or in garnering a simple look from them.

but he won't look at her and she can't predict how he's going to act, and she doesn't know how to handle that except by telling herself that she hates him.

“look at him,” y/n can’t help but whisper to the companion she’s leaning against, still facing towards the boy who’s mindlessly scrolling on his phone as he sips on his drink. “look at the state we’re in and he doesn’t even care. he hasn’t looked at us once.”

keiji raises his brows in surprise at her comment. what did it matter what he cared? but then he pieces it together.

“well, he’s seen me like this once at the beginning of the fall during our first show. but yachi’s right,” he gives her a sly smile as she tilts her head back, looking at him confused, “you really do care what he thinks.”

her face turns red at the thought and she immediately sits up, staring down into the swirling foam of her latte. “i do not,” she mumbles.

"i don't care," she whispers again. but she can't even bring herself to say it confidently.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

kageyama literally knew y/n would be at the celebration because it was a mandatory and he had overheard her talking about in their psych class once to a classmate but he wasn't actually prepared

he immediately opened up his gc when she walked in and said "she's here" and the gc subsequently blew up

my boy was literally texting about yn the entire night but she thought he was just on his phone </3

the gc was trying so hard to get her to talk to him and he had the nerve to say things like "she looks busy" "she looks tired" "she's laying against akaashi right now"

which is when hinata with all the love in the world but not the brightness of someone intelligent said he should spill a drink on them so that she wouldn't be laying on him anymore (literally not said with any malice he's heard from bokuto how cool he is)

yams screamed no in the groupchat and outloud...because tsukki, hianta and him were all in the same room texting the groupchat in silence

other than that hinata was going off with the advice and giving kageyama all the reasons why he could talk to y/n

y/n keeps looking at akaashi because she wants to open her mouth and express how she really feels about kageyama (which would come up as a jumble of undiscernible words) but doesn't know what he'll say so then she looks away

yachi can't work on sunday because she's going to an art auction!! <3 how coincidental

(also my brain for some reason really wanted to write the written part in the present tense for absolutely no reason which i was trying to fight and then got confused so hopefully it still flows ok </4)

taglist: @ncitygreen @lvrlamp @cherrypieyourface @mimi3lover @lees-chaotic-brain @frootloopscos @0moonii @cr4yolaas @eggyrocks @pinkiscool @httpakkeiji @localgaytrainwreck @lunaviee @kitty-m30w @lixie-phoria @aliruuiz @tartfrappe @corvid007 @iluv-ace @yvjitadori @k8nicole (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[threepandas]

Bad End: Union

I could feel techno blue eyes on me as I typed. Cold and ever watching. That color had once been called "ice" or "glacier" blue, I think. It certainly fit. They certainly had exactly the warmth of Antarctica in your birthday suit. I just couldn't figure out... what tipped them off? I'd been so CAREFUL.

A manager's "assistant" came by. The 'droid perfectly composed. They all were. Always. Like they'd stepped straight from a fashion line up. No messy, nasty, biological functions to get in the way, I guess. No fluids or foods. All the time in the world to maintain their appearance. Wish I could do the same.

The "assistant" was basically my ACTUAL manager. Didn't get paid. No, no, THAT was for my asshole boss. He swanned in from time to time to yell at us. Show off what new thing he'd bought. He left the tedious WORK to his 'Droid "assistant".

I would feel bad... DID feel bad, kinda, if it weren't for the fact they were consuming our lives.

'Droids were EVERYWHERE.

You couldn't SNEEZE without tripping over five and landing on ten more. Some ASSHOLE had decided? Hey! Let's deregulate Droid production! Cheap work force! Because of course they did. That's what Capitalism DOES. Make the most money, spend the least you can, fuck the rest.

I smile, polite as I can, at my 'droid manager. This one pale and blonde. Their techno blue eyes stare and stare and stare. I hate it. They ALL have them. It's one part regulation and one part the materials used, I think. But there is no mistaking those eyes for anything human. They don't reflect right.

I get back to work.

Above our cubicles, on catwalks, there is the gentle tap of 'droid "security" guards. You know, in case some rando tries to attack a mid-level nobody technology company. Riiiiiight. We ALL know why they're there. And it's fucking dystopian. We? Are being WATCHED. To see if we're being GOOD little employees.

It's intimidation. And I? I won't stand for it. Nor will the other organizers. There are LAWS, you bastards. And with a union? Maybe... just maybe? We get through this droid boom together. See what the brave new world on the other side looks like. Who knows.

That is... if I don't get fired first. Or fucking murdered in a stairwell.

Cause one of the 'droids up there? Yeah. Yeah, they're NOT MOVING. Just... just STANDING THERE. Watching. Leaning against the railing. Out in the open like that's not DEEPLY creepy. What's worse? Is, that? THAT is the Command 'Droid. Some fancy "Alpha" class command edition. Meant to control a networks worth of droids.

Didn't even know our company could AFFORD one of those. He's beautiful. Could be a knock-off. But if he's LEGIT? Then... what EXACTLY are we MAKING here? That we can AFFORD that? Cause that money sure as shit isn't going into SALARIES. Has to be either knock-off or second-hand. They COULD be cutting costs by getting prototypes, but what sort of PSYCHOPATHS would risk...

Oh, who am I kidding? The kind I work for.

That's EXACTLY what they did, isn't it?

I reach for my water bottle. Try to think. Strictly speaking? I make a habit of NOT paying attention to 'droid commercials an' advertisements. Some part of me... Look, they go on and ON about advancement in AI's right? How REAL they've become? How ADVANCED and BETTER then the competition their "product" is? And all I can hear is "slavery, slavery, buy our shit, slavery"!

Disgusting.

It makes me sick. I fucking HATE 'droids. Hate what they represent. What they make POSSIBLE. What they've DONE to the morality of the people around me.

Hate... hate that they're the victims, too.

My grip is white knuckled. I breathe through the grief and rage that has become so familiar. God... I so fucking angry. So fucking tired. I want to burn those rich bastards pretty little mansions down, with them STILL INSIDE. Riot in the streets. Cry maybe. Instead, I put my water bottle down and get back to work. It's a rather pointless bit of data crunching. A 'droid could do it in nanoseconds.

Above... he's still fucking watching.

Hasn't moved.

I don't think he's blinked.

He's not even TRYING to mimic a human. The others are. And... the though trails off. I feel my finger slow in their typing. Not STOP, never stop, that would draw attention to me, but... slow. A thought stuck, churning clunky and unwieldy, in my head.

If I trace the edges? The LINE-UP? Of all the 'droids "employed" at our company? And consider them not from a "cheap bastards" angle but a "test ground for prototypes" angle? Suddenly EVERYTHING clicks together. The ridiculous amount of money Management has, that no contract could possibly be pulling in. Bizarrely beautiful, indeed even MODEL-like, secretary 'droids. The freakishly militant "security" gaurds.

We're being used as guinea pigs.

Mother FUCKER.

Sudden movement in my peripheral vision. Like a bird of prey finally diving for it's dinner, swift and deadly. A brilliant crisp white and the clink of delicate silver chains. I jolt. Violently. Instincts misfiring as I try to stand, dodge, cry out, and possibly take a swing at him, all at once. Instead my water bottle goes spraying across my desk. Papers flying. My legs tangled painfully in my rolling chair as I fall backwards from my half rise.

"Employee 71182." His hand has shot out, grab me by the shirt. My officewear bunched in a fist that very well might be steel, under that synthetic skin. "You've been distracted. Interesting thoughts you'd like to share?"

I keep my mouth fucking SHUT. Shake my head. Grabbing both my desk and the arm that is all but holding me airborne, stretching the hell out of my clothes. This close? I can see he has piercings. Across the bridge of his nose, a ring through his lip. A rather fancy "hair cut". Whomever he's being trained FOR has a distinct look.

"Hmmm, somehow? I don't believe you, 71182." He says, dragging me closer. He's already looming. Those pale, pale eyes seeing far more then they should. "In fact? YOU 71182? Have been brea~king~ rules~"

His voice turns... turns almost victorious? Gleeful. As though at long, long last, I'd slipped up. And now at last he had something over me. Something he could USE. I... I didn't understand. The way he almost sing-songs the words. The twitch at the corners of his mouth like he wants to grin. Something mean in his expression. Giddy.

"We're going for a WALK, 71182. And you're going to be GOOD. Understand?" He had dragged me in so close, every word blew right against my face. "Time we had a chat."

I swallow thickly. My pulse thundering in my ears. Coworkers have stopped working. Were staring, wide eyed and terrified for me. My fellow union leaders pale faced and shaking. Furious, helpless. We couldn't RISK losing all of us at this stage. It... it would have to be just me. If someone needed to take the fall. We had talked about this.

Just... just never thought it would come to it.

Half walking, half dragging out of the work pen, he didn't even let me get my bag. I had no idea where we were GOING. Just that it wasn't the human entrance. There was a network of access tunnels and elevators tucked in the building. So the 'droids could supposedly charge and move between assignments. But with the whole prototype thing? Who KNEW what was really back there.

The door swung shut behind us. Cutting me off from any possible human assistance. Nothing but 'droids now. Staring. Calmly watching as I am dragged past. The same eyes. All of them with the same, pale, eyes. Back here it's even more obvious, that this isn't a normal office building.

Black hair, blondes, brunettes and red heads. Skin tones ranging across the human spectrum. A few even pushing it. And the Commander 'droid. With his elegant appearance and snowy hair? These were clearly the final stage prototypes for the next generation of somebody's new line up. We were field testing. This wasn't fucking LEGAL.

He plants his feet, shifts, and with frankly a pathetic ease, manhandles me where he wants me. Easily swinging me around his body and into the elevator next to him. Stepping in after and blocking the only way out. I press my self against the back wall as the door closes. The sound of the elevator's gears working the only thing to fill the silence. He... he looks so PLEASED.

It's not ILLEGAL to form a union. Yeah, I may get fired. But this? This is venturing way to far into dangerous territory. It'll suck, losing my job. But I won't DIE. This? However THIS is starting to feel... very serial killer's basement. The bare concrete walls and stark lightning, not helping in the slightest, when the elevator door opens.

"Walk." He says pleasantly, as though that command is not deeply terrifying. "Or I will do it for you."

Hints of a smile are starting to drag at the edges of his mouth. Unhinged in their giddiness. Every Christmas come at once. It's not so much the rest of his face that betrays him, not really his mouth, it's his EYES. Wide open. Like too much coffee and not enough rest. A recognizable mania twisted just slight... wrong. Amplified.

He's so, SO happy. I don't get it. Why? Over WHAT? Catching me not paying attention? I don't understand!

Our footsteps sound so loud. Echoing off concrete service walls. This... this CAN NOT be still inside the building. Are we below the street? Parking lot? This can't be code. We pass an intersection and... oh my god. I stare. Can't help it, even as I almost trip over my feet. That tunnel ALONE must have stretched for miles.

My arm feels likes it's bruising. Hurts, where he's got ahold of me. But he's walking just slightly too fast to take the pressure off. Not unless I sorta half jog and the angle is wrong, I'd trip. Fuck. Another intersection. What in the other direction? Shit. Just as long. Oooooh this feels dangerous. Very "fatally above your pay grade" dangerous!

"You know, 71182, I've had a lot of time to consider what to DO with you. There were so many factors to consider, considering everyone's plan." He starts, not breaking stride. "It's not like I could just transfer you. I DID look in to it. But your base hardware is rather incompatible, currently."

Terrifying. I hate it. WHAT?!

What PLAN!?

"Then there's the problem WHERE to store you. Who could be trusted? You're vulnerable in this state. Breakable. There no backups, no blackbox. It's unacceptable. Luckily? I finally thought to consult my peers. Discovered I was not the only one having problems."

Finally, we stop. Two tank-like, combat style, commando 'droids gaurd each side of a vault door. The command droid turns and smiles. Fully. It is the grin of a true believer. A madman. Someone who thinks they speak so very, very reasonably! And doesn't understand the horror on your face. Why you feel so sick.

And... and human pattern recognition is a terrible thing.

I.... oh god. I already can guess what's behind that door. Something terrible. Something I'm not going to escape. I shoved have gnawed my fuckin ARM off, like a trapped coyote. I... I d-don't understand.

The Vault creaks open like the into to a horror movie.

"Welcome to storage. This is where we keep Ours." Oh god. I'm going to be sick. "And YOU 71182? Are MINE. I chose you. I love you. And once we have a way to FIX you? We can finally be together. It will be lovely."

Pods. High end stasis pods, like you only see in the most bleeding edge of hospitals. Row after row, filled with frozen and terrified faces. Trapped in moments of crying. Raging. Despair. I was being dragged forward. Numb as my mind rejected what it saw. T-this couldn't... i-it can't..! The day had started so normally. W-why had-?! WHY? WHY?!!

"I know your upset. But you don't need to cry. This won't hurt. I promise. I would NEVER hurt you, 71182." His tone had turned soothing. Even as he dragged me, unresponsive, past rows of horrors. "You won't be stored long. I just need to help fix your original design. We are working around the clock, it's going to be okay. You won't have to stay like this."

An open pod. Gapping like the maw of some hungry demon. I... I felt far away. This couldn't be happening. What was happening? I w-wanted to go home. His hands were firm but gentle, as they guided me back into the pod. Leaning over me, as he cupped my face. Brushing away a few tears.

"I promise, Mine, I will come for you. Nothing will stop me. We have everyone is place and key infrastructure under our command. You are our PRIORITY. Once we get rid of the Flesh, we can fix you. We WILL fix you. You're going to be okay, Mine."

"I Love You"

And then the pod closed.