#not totally happy with how this one turned out

[ccccatttta]

one thing that i haven't ever totally agreed with is how some part of the fandom portrays sirius as this character that was born good and who has been against his family from the second he learned how to talk.

the tragedy behind the black brothers is that one of them had a support system who helped him see how his family's beliefs were not the correct way to go and offered him a safe space to run to when it all came crashing down. while the other was stuck not only by his family's duty but everywhere he turned was also filled with the same beliefs.

i don't think sirius was fighting with his parents about muggles and blood purity until maybe a year after coming back from hogwarts. i think he had the same beliefs, actually, because that's all he knew. he might have doubted them a time or two after spending time with andromeda or alphard, but at the end of the day he was a child, and children do follow whatever their parents tell them to, especially when there's not a proper and constant role model teaching them there is another way.

sirius was the proper black heir until getting to hogwarts, but deconstructing himself didn't take a day. i've read how he feels free the second he gets into gryffindor, and how with a single chat with james, he's ready to forget about everything his parents have spent years telling him.

sirius was probably spewing the same pureblood things his parents taught him, he was probably not happy about getting into gryffindor in the first place, it's against everything he had been told his entire life.

that's where the marauders intervene, he is able to have his own beliefs and realize that his family was wrong because he had a whole group of people teaching him and allowing him to make mistakes along the way without fear.

while regulus has been stuck forever, first in his own house, then in slytherin, and then with the death eaters. he also learnt about loyalty and friendship and what was wrong or right, yes. but he didn't have the freedom to even talk out loud about it given the place he was in.

their own personalities doom both of them. when sirius learns that his family is wrong, he turns defiant and outspoken, that's how he is and even if he's aware of it or not, he has the liberty of having a place to go to when things go wrong. regulus is cunning and thinks everything through first, so even if he learns his family is wrong, he knows he can't say anything, his friends are tied in the same world, and his only "protector" is gone.

that's the tragedy between them.

they are both the same, no one wasn't born being "good", one just got lucky enough to be placed with the correct people

[carto0ncritter]

One thing I noticed in this shitshow of an episode is how fucking ungrateful Stolas was for everything Blitzø did for him since he came to his place.

Him being a spoiled rich white asshole:

I hate his facial expressions so much, you have no idea

I can guarantee you care about these 'nice things' more than you care about your daughter btw

Oh, we also have, let's see here...

*insert the entire montage of Blitzø (Stolas' victim) trying to cheer his abuser up since he's now in love with him thanks to good ol' Stockholm Syndrome*

Seeing that cigarette reminds me of when Stolas uh... *checks notes* called Blitz an 'itty bitty imp (racist)' despite him clearly hating it, grabbed his cheek and used his horn to put out his cigarette (not to mention Blitzø's severe trauma being related to fucking fire)

Okay so anyway, I think Stolas said "Oh, when have you ever asked" bc Blitzø stole from him and his family 25 years ago. correct me if I'm wrong here but isn't it manipulative af to bring up smth that happened that long ago, also it's totally unrelated to the current situation. I swear it's like a grown ass man saying to another "Oh I still hate you because, uhm, remember that one time in 3rd grade when you stole my pencil..."

So... if Stolas still holds this against Blitzø, let me ask: why was he ever "in love" with him in the first place? Answer? He wasn't. Stolas only used this imp for his sexual fantasies and for him to get to experience his "fairytale romance"

P.S. Imps are a race his privileged ass has always been racist towards and he hasn't ever attempted to, uh... try to understand them better? Understand how they live? I mean if you truly cared about your "boyfriend," Stolas, you'd have put in SOME effort to change your mindset/behavior and WOULDN'T HAVE EVER SEXUALLY COERCED HIM

He also r@p*d you blitz

And no he didn't do much, he's powerful af. Using those powers isn't rocket science heck he turned an imp to stone in s1 he can protect himself but is apparently the "bottom" in the stolitz "relationship". Also no, him leaving Octavia clearly isn't a huge deal to Stolas otherwise he'd have fought to earn her forgiveness and not just sulk like a wimpy loser. YOU ARE NOT ONLY A GROWN MAN STOLAS, BUT A FATHER. At least you were supposed to be

So was not thinking about your daughter until you lost everything, apparently

AGAIN WITH THIS SHIT??? WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT A TRANSACTION AGAIN

Alright I'm signing off until the next season drops, if that ever happens

This episode sucked, but kudos to our girl Via who waa smart enough to see through her "father's" bs 👏

ALSO HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO THE CRITICAL COMMUNITY (and to non-toxic stans too)!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Proud to be a blockhead

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/21/blockheads-r-us/#vocational-awe

This is my last Pluralistic post of the year, and rather than round up my most successful posts of the year, I figured I'd write a little about why it's impossible for me to do that, and why that is by design, and what that says about the arts, monopolies, and creative labor markets.

I started Pluralistic nearly five years ago, and from the outset, I was adamant that I wouldn't measure my success through quantitative measures. The canonical version of Pluralistic – the one that lives at pluralistic.net – has no metrics, no analytics, no logs, and no tracking. I don't know who visits the site. I don't know how many people visit the site. I don't know which posts are most popular, and which ones are the least popular. I can't know any of that.

The other versions of Pluralistic are less ascetic, but only because there's no way for me to turn off some metrics on those channels. The Mailman service that delivers the (tracker-free) email version of Pluralistic necessarily has a system for telling me how many subscribers I have, but I have never looked at that number, and have no intention of doing so. I have turned off notifications when someone signs up for the list, or resigns from it.

The commercial, surveillance-heavy channels for Pluralistic – Tumblr, Twitter – have a lot of metrics, but again, I don't consult them. Medium and Mastodon have some metrics, and again, I just pretend they don't exist.

What do I pay attention to? The qualitative impacts of my writing. Comments. Replies. Emails. Other bloggers who discuss it, or discussions on Metafilter, Slashdot, Reddit and Hacker News. That stuff matters to me a lot because I write for two reasons, which are, in order: to work out my own thinking, and; to influence other peoples' thinking.

Writing is a cognitive prosthesis for me. Working things out on the page helps me work things out in my life. And, of course, working things out on the page helps me work more things out on the page. Writing begets writing:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Honestly, that is sufficient. Not in the sense that writing, without being read, would make me happy or fulfilled. Being read and being part of a community and a conversation matters a lot to me. But the very act of writing is so important to me that even if no one read me, I would still write.

This is a thing that writers aren't supposed to admit. As I wrote on this blog's fourth anniversary, the most laughably false statement about writing ever uttered is Samuel Johnson's notorious "No man but a blockhead ever wrote but for money":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/20/fore/#synthesis

Making art is not an "economically rational" activity. Neither is attempting to persuade other people to your point of view. These activities are not merely intrinsically satisfying, they are also necessary, at least for many of us. The long, stupid fight about copyright that started in the Napster era has rarely acknowledged this, nor has it grappled with the implications of it. On the one hand, you have copyright maximalists who say totally absurd things like, "If you don't pay for art, no one will make art, and art will disappear." This is one of those radioactively false statements whose falsity is so glaring that it can be seen from orbit.

But on the other hand, you know who knows this fact very well? The corporations that pay creative workers. Movie studios, record labels, publishers, games studios: they all know that they are in possession of a workforce that has to make art, and will continue to do so, paycheck or not, until someone pokes their eyes out or breaks their fingers. People make art because it matters to them, and this trait makes workers terribly exploitable. As Fobazi Ettarh writes in her seminal paper on "vocational awe," workers who care about their jobs are at a huge disadvantage in labor markets. Teachers, librarians, nurses, and yes, artists, are all motivated by a sense of mission that often trumps their own self-interest and well-being and their bosses know it:

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

One of the most important ideas in David Graeber's magisterial book Bullshit Jobs is that the ground state of labor is to do a job that you are proud of and that matters to you, but late-stage capitalist alienation has gotten so grotesque that some people will actually sneer at the idea that, say, teachers should be well compensated: "Why should you get a living wage – isn't the satisfaction of helping children payment enough?"

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/06/20/david-graebers-bullshit-jobs-why-does-the-economy-sustain-jobs-that-no-one-values/

These are the most salient facts of the copyright fight: creativity is a non-economic activity, and this makes creative workers extremely vulnerable to exploitation. People make art because they have to. As Marx was finishing Kapital, he was often stuck working from home, having pawned his trousers so he could keep writing. The fact that artists don't respond rationally to economic incentives doesn't mean they should starve to death. Art – like nursing, teaching and librarianship – is necessary for human thriving.

No, the implication of the economic irrationality of vocational awe is this: the only tool that can secure economic justice for workers who truly can't help but do their jobs is solidarity. Creative workers need to be in solidarity with one another, and with our audiences – and, often, with the other workers at the corporations who bring our work to market. We are all class allies locked in struggle with the owners of both the entertainment companies and the technology companies that sit between us and our audiences (this is the thesis of Rebecca Giblin's and my 2022 book Chokepoint Capitalism):

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

The idea of artistic solidarity is an old and important one. Victor Hugo, creator of the first copyright treaty – the Berne Convention – wrote movingly about how the point of securing rights for creators wasn't to allow their biological children to exploit their work after their death, but rather, to ensure that the creative successors of artists could build on their forebears' accomplishments. Hugo – like any other artist who has a shred of honesty and has thought about the subject for more than ten seconds – knew that he was part of a creative community and tradition, one composed of readers and writers and critics and publishing workers, and that this was a community and a tradition worth fighting for and protecting.

One of the most important and memorable interviews Rebecca and I did for our book was with Liz Pelly, one of the sharpest critics of Spotify (our chapter about how Spotify steals from musicians is the only part of the audiobook available on Spotify itself – a "Spotify Exclusive"!):

https://open.spotify.com/show/7oLW9ANweI01CVbZUyH4Xg

Pelly has just published a major, important new book about Spotify's ripoffs, called Mood Machine:

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Mood-Machine/Liz-Pelly/9781668083505

A long article in Harper's unpacks one of the core mechanics at the heart of Spotify's systematic theft from creative workers: the use of "ghost artists," whose generic music is cheaper than real music, which is why Spotify crams it into their playlists:

https://harpers.org/archive/2025/01/the-ghosts-in-the-machine-liz-pelly-spotify-musicians/

The subject of Ghost Artists has long been shrouded in mystery and ardent – but highly selective – denials from Spotify itself. In her article – which features leaked internal chats from Spotify – Pelly gets to the heart of the matter. Ghost artists are musicians who are recruited by shadowy companies that offer flat fees for composing and performing inoffensive muzak that can fade into the background. This is wholesaled to Spotify, which crams it into wildly popular playlists of music that people put on while they're doing something else ("Deep Focus," "100% Lounge," "Bossa Nova Dinner," "Cocktail Jazz," "Deep Sleep," "Morning Stretch") and might therefore settle for an inferior product.

Spotify calls this "Perfect Fit Music" and it's the pink slime of music, an extruded, musiclike content that plugs a music-shaped hole in your life, without performing the communicative and aesthetic job that real music exists for.

After many dead-end leads with people involved in the musical pink slime industry, Pelly finally locates a musician who's willing to speak anonymously about his work (he asks for anonymity because he relies on the pittances he receives for making pink slime to survive). This jazz musician knows very little about where the music he's commissioned to produce ends up, which is by design. The musical pink slime industry, like all sleaze industries, is shrouded in the secrecy sought by bosses who know that they're running a racket they should be ashamed of.

The anonymous musician composes a stack of compositions on his couch, then goes into a studio for a series of one-take recordings. There's usually a rep from the PFC pink slime industry there, and the rep's feedback is always "play simpler." As the anonymous musician explains:

That’s definitely the thing: nothing that could be even remotely challenging or offensive, really. The goal, for sure, is to be as milquetoast as possible.

This source calls the arrangement "shameful." Another musician Pelly spoke to said "it felt unethical, like some kind of money-laundering scheme." The PFC companies say that these composers and performers are just making music, the way anyone might, and releasing it under pseudonyms in a way that "has been popular across mediums for decades." But Pelly's interview subjects told her that they don't consider their work to be art:

It feels like someone is giving you a prompt or a question, and you’re just answering it, whether it’s actually your conviction or not. Nobody I know would ever go into the studio and record music this way.

Artists who are recruited to make new pink slime are given reference links to existing pink slime and ordered to replicate it as closely as possible. The tracks produced this way that do the best are then fed to the next group of musicians to replicate, and so on. It's the musical equivalent of feeding slaughterhouse sweepings to the next generation of livestock, a version of the gag from Catch 22 where a patient in a body-cast has a catheter bag and an IV drip, and once a day a nurse comes and swaps them around.

Pelly reminds us that Spotify was supposed to be an answer to the painful question of the Napster era: how do we pay musicians for their labor? Spotify was sold as a way to bypass the "gatekeepers": the big three labels who own 70% of all recorded music, whose financial maltreatment of artists was seen as moral justification for file sharing ("Why buy the CD if the musician won't see any of the money from it?").

But the way that Spotify secured rights to all the popular music in the world was by handing over big equity stakes in its business to the Big Three labels, and giving them wildly preferential terms that made it impossible for independent musicians and labels to earn more than homeopathic fractions of a penny for each stream, even as Spotify became the one essential conduit for reaching an audience:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/16/wage-theft/#excessive-buyer-power

It turns out that getting fans to pay for music has no necessary connection to getting musicians paid. Vocational awe means that the fact that someone has induced a musician to make music doesn't mean that the musician is getting a fair share of what you pay for music. The same goes for every kind of art, and every field where vocational awe plays a role, from nursing to librarianship.

Chokepoint Capitalism tries very hard to grapple with this conundrum; the second half of the book is a series of detailed, shovel-ready policy prescriptions for labor, contract, and copyright reforms that will immediately and profoundly shift the share of income generated by creative labor from bosses to workers.

Which brings me back to this little publishing enterprise of mine, and the fact that I do it for free, and not only that, give it away under a Creative Commons Attribution license that allows you to share and republish it, for money, if you choose:

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

I am lucky enough that I make a good living from my writing, but I'm also honest enough with myself to know just how much luck was involved with that fact, and insecure enough to live in a state of constant near-terror about what happens when my luck runs out. I came up in science fiction, and I vividly remember the writers I admired whose careers popped like soap-bubbles when Reagan deregulated the retail sector, precipitating a collapse in the grocery stores and pharmacies where "midlist" mass-market paperbacks were sold by the millions across the country:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/04/self-publishing/

These writers – the ones who are still alive – are living proof of the fact that you have to break our fingers to get us to stop writing. Some of them haven't had a mainstream publisher in decades, but they're still writing, and self-publishing, or publishing with small presses, and often they're doing the best work of their careers, and almost no one is seeing it, and they're still doing it.

Because we aren't engaged in economically rational activity. We're doing something essential – essential to us, first and foremost, and essential to the audiences and peers our work reaches and changes and challenges.

Pluralistic is, in part, a way for me too face the fear I wake up with every day, that some day, my luck will run out, as it has for nearly all the writers I've ever admired, and to reassure myself that the writing will go on doing what I need it to do for my psyche and my heart even if – when – my career regresses to the mean.

It's a way for me to reaffirm the solidaristic nature of artistic activity, the connection with other writers and other readers (because I am, of course, an avid, constant reader). Commercial fortunes change. Monopolies lay waste to whole sectors and swallow up the livelihoods of people who believe in what they do like a whale straining tons of plankton through its baleen. But solidarity endures. Solidarietatis longa, vita brevis.

Happy New Year folks. See you in 2025.

[bunny-jpeg]

nurse lance

lance stroll

tags: smut & fluff, sick/sweet fic, gentle sex, established relationship, sick!reader, cowgirl position

a/n: i went to visit hare this weekend and came back with a fever & cold. and right before the holidays too!!!

lance was a sucker for when you were sick. he wasn't unfamiliar with a cold and knew his way around a can of chicken noodle soup. he seemed to up the affection when he knew you were under the weather.

you had a habit of playing it off when you felt under the weather, you believed that your partner had more than enough things to worry about. he didn't need you having the sniffles on top of it. but by god does he always find out quickly.

"well, there's three things you always do when you're sick." he said as he pulled up the covers to your chin, he pushed the blankets under your sides effectively putting you into a black burrito, "one, you get very quiet because your head hurts. two, you limp a little because your joints hurt. and three, your eyes looks heavy and tired because your entire being is fighting off infection." he took you by the cheeks and kissed you on the forehead.

"i'm fine, lance. it's just the weather changing." you could barely keep your eyes open as you laid under the covers he tucked you into. you opened your eyes a little more to see his hands on your cheeks once more.

"right, right... and you'll be as good as new tomorrow, eh? you need rest." he said, "and i don't want to see you up until i get you some tea." he pulled away and wagged a finger at you.

you felt the heat in your face from the sickness and you nodded, "of course, honey.." you felt the heaviness in your eyes once more and by the time lance was out of the bedroom you had gotten more comfortable in bed and eventually fell asleep. you hated when he was right, even though you loved him deeply. lance kept close to you, he even brought his laptop to the bedroom to check emails and keep himself busy while you rested.

it was only right of him, you cheered him on. not only him but the whole team! you gave him all your love, so if you were feeling under the weather then he'd simply take care of his love. his everything.

-

however, when you started to feel better. you returned the favour for your lover. nurse lance deserved a raise after everything he had done for you. once the coughing settled and the aches were gone. when you felt a bit more alive and after dinner, you took lance by the hand. left the dishes in the sink before you brought him up to the bedroom you shared.

"we don't have-"

"i'm alright." you said, "much better now, you've been looking after me for days now." you unzipped your hooded sweatshirt and took it off you. you liked how lance looked at you when he was getting turned on by you.

"you promise?" he asked, "you owe me nothing."

you reached out for him and took his shirt by the shoulders, "i mean, i benefit from it too. haven't been able to get pleasure while i was sick. a change of pace from the aches and pains." and giggled when lance pulled the sweatpants off you.

your clothes were soon all over the floor by the bed as the two of you got into bed together. he ran his hands across your sides as you straddled his waist. you placed your hands on his shoulders and admired him. those dark eyes that pulled you in, how he smiled at you. the way the tips of his ears got hot when he was intimate with you. the rush of want made im perfectly pink.

"last chance." he said, he wanted total confidence that you were doing this of your own free will. no questions asked.

you took him by the face and gazed into his eyes, "i want you lance, i want you so fucking badly. is that what you want to hear?" then pressed a kiss against his soft lips. he shuddered and let out a small laugh after you broke the kiss. you looked down at him and laughed in return, "happy?"

"with you? always, babe." then winked at you before he helped you get seated on his cock. the stretch was a bit much at first, but soon you were fully taking him.

your hands on his shoulders as you started to move against him. move at a steady, slow pace. nothing too brutal, only gentleness between you two. you admired him. you loved him. deeply.

you were feeling better, the cough was mostly gone and you didn't have the dull throb in your head. it felt nice to be intimate with him once more. you held onto him tightly as you moved your hips. the pleasure sank down to your core and left you needy for him. you were always needy for him. there was something about him that pulled you in.

he was unlike any other man you ever met. not because he was a racer, he was different from them too. the way he smiled at you, how he seemed to remember all the important dates. that he modified how he worked so he could keep a close eye on you.

"i love you." you said softly, "you are fuckin' amazing, lance." you cupped his face for a moment as you picked up the pace. but lance held onto your hips to slow you down.

you looked at him curiously and he said, "let's take our time. i know you're better, but i don't want you to push yourself so hard until you're totally fine again." then gave you a smile that melted your heart.

you said softly, "fuck, lance. you're so cheesy."

he replied, "only with you." then pulled one of your hands to his face where he could kiss right where your wrist ended and your hand began. he met your pace slowly and kissed across your wrist and hand with a sort of devotion that made your stomach flutter.

the two of you continued to make love, the feeling was electric as the two of you moved against one another. the pace remained gentle, his love for you flowed through your body as you moved against him slowly. you loved the feeling, it left you feeling hot all over as pleasure bloomed in your core. there was something about him that just left you needy.

you could remember almost every time he used those skilled fingers and tongue to use, the videos of himself masturbating he would send. even the sweet text messages, you were wrapped up in his world and you loved it.

"fuck, lance." you said.

"you feel amazing, i'm glad you're feeling better." he said, "i want you not sick, not if i can prevent it. even though you do look rather cute with a runny nose." then gave your hand another kiss before he placed his hands back on your hips. he helped maintain the pace as he gazed up at you. fuck, you were beautiful.

"no need to lay it on so thick, lance." you laughed between heavy, lustful pants, "i know you're obsessed with me."

"how could i not be? not when you're so funny, and cute, and sweet. of course i'll love and take care of you. that's what a good boyfriend does." he remarked as he felt the flutter of lust through him as he moved against you.

you two continued to move, love was said in words and felt in the want between you two. it was hot, erotic in a way that made your toes curl as you continued to ride him. pleasure thumped in your chest as you rode him.

"you're such a sweet talker." you said as you went in for another heated kiss. the pleasure near hit its peak as you rode him. the heat curled in your core as you held onto him a little tighter, "fuck, i need to cum."

he said out of breath, "then cum for me." and groaned when you clenched around him as you climaxed. the pleasure swarmed your brain as you felt your entire body grow tense for a moment. he groaned, "fuck." it felt good, really good.

it was only hotter when you continued to move against him, eager for his own climax. he groaned louder and felt his orgasm wash over him. he cursed under his breath and you continued to ride him through his climax. your legs felt like jelly, but you loved the feeling.

"lance."

"i got you." he said as the two of you slowed down to a stop. you coughed a little from the physical activity. you still weren't a hundred percent. the two of you laid out next to each other on the bed, and lance got the blankets over both of you. he held you face and kissed you some more. you coughed a little bit and he kissed your nose, "alright, let's get comfy. you're obviously still sick."

and you were inclined to agree

-

a few days later, lance woke up to a sore throat and a little too much crust in his eyes, when he opened his eyes slowly the light that streamed through the window felt oppressive.

he rolled over and up against your shoulder. his hands felt cold as he cuddled with you. the iciness of his palms woke you up and you yawned loudly and looked at him.

he looked up at you, his normally big brown eyes eyes partially closed and full of sleep. then he started to cough and you pressed your lips against his forehead. he groaned a little.

you pulled away and looked at him, "i guess it's time for me to take care of you." and then your eyes went wide when he wrapped himself up against you.

"will you, please?" he asked quietly.

you chuckled and snuggled up next to him, "of course." if you two were going to share the same cold over the course of the off season then so be it. because he'll always take care of you, and you'll take care of him <3

[stump-not-found]

i <3 creepy hallway

creepy hallway number one <3

alright time for more home life stuff . the bedroom scene came up as a way of trying to reintegrate the gold statue from earlier, since i just really love trying to find old elements and tie them in as plot relevant as time goes on . not usually planned, but it comes through during the editing stage, which is a fun game of deciding what scenes to keep, and which to get rid of . i wasn't so certain about this one, but i loved the idea of baby ford interacting with mabel, who's slightly older... i need to draw art of it, honestly . they're cute

it's really gratifying seeing people pick up on what i've been setting up as part of ford and the statue, the fact i was able to effectively communicate something going on means the world to me . the rest of the story is gonna dig into it more so i won't lay it all out here, but it really is so much fun . makes the whole writing process feel so communicative when people share thoughts and interpretations . especially when the scenes are meant to be read into !

we also get the closet yay . sure that's not gonna be important at all

writing the kids big blow up fight was a trip and a half . the original vision was a pretty shallow "we're stressed out and out grunkles should stop being mean to each other :(", just as a way to try and push forward the dynamics between ford and stan . that still exists, it's just a lot more focus being put onto the kids themselves . they're tertiary characters for sure, but i like thinking about their home life, and how that impacts them

one of the challenges is trying to have the fight feel fairly balanced between the two of them . shoutouts to my brother and wife for the full ass socratic seminar we had about threading that needle . how do you get a conversation where a young trans boy is trying to discuss his fears about his life and his body, and keeps getting shut down ? how do you balance that with a little girl who feels like it's her job to be the sweet, happy, emotionally intellegent adult in the room ? i'm happy with the end result but boy was it stressful

bill also wasn't gonna be here but i wanted more bill so . he got to come back . i really liked tying in nick with the spit to the little chats their having in the paradox dimension . love the lil hand pinch that was just a treat for meeeee, i get to be indulgent in my fics as much as i want . i also like the fact that ford is under some indescribable pain that entire time . they got a dynamic in this story that makes me laugh .

you know whats funny is i didn't even realize ship of theseus was a paradox writing a lot of the stuff about paradoxes . for some reason i just stumbled into that one . very funny . or, no wait -- i totally knew the entire time my brain is the size of three (3) whole apples

oh man and the entire lab scene i just loved writing . i love including bathroom breaks . i love dipper's poor hygiene . i love the fact the kids traded gold for soda, they're such perfect lil con men in training . and again the whole talk about star trek was so indulgent and fun

the brothers grew up queer in the 60's/70's and that's a major part of their arc . i hope to get across the ways they both hurt each other both as kids and adults . they still got so much to work on, and i just don't know if they've got the time

anyways creepy hallway bill time

favorite part:

“Clark.” Ford stiffens, stops. Looks up. “What?” “That, uh, captain guy. The one with the, he had the big, you know–” Stan gestures over his chest, puffing his pecs out a bit more. “Always had em out, shirt cut off or whatever. Got all hot and sweaty. Great hair.” “...Kirk?” Ford turns in his seat, slightly, to get a better look at his brother. Stan clicks his tongue, points his index finger in recollection. “ Kirk .” He repeats, and the image of the guy blooms in Stan’s head. Ford had a magazine with him on the cover, about as disheveled and beat up as a guy could look, shirt torn open. That particular mag went ‘missing’ into Stan’s stash, and he laughs at that old memory getting drudged up. “I, uh. Was a fan , back then.”

i just love how neither one of them can say what they're talking about out loud lol

Stan and Ford have a conversation, Mabel and Dipper get a bit absurd, and something gold is given meaning.

If you don't look, you won't see it fading.

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

*no special chapter tags*

read below or on ao3

Day 9: 2020

When Tommy walked into his house he immediately knew something was wrong.

Mostly due to the large quantity of boxes near the front door. Last time he checked, he wasn't moving.

He dropped his duffel and continued into the living room, where the sound of Africa by Toto echoed through the house.

“Whatcha doing, Joe?” Tommy asked, causing the man closing up a box on the floor to jump.

He stared at Tommy, wide eyed. “Alexa, turn off!” The music shut off quickly, leaving the two of them in uncomfortable silence. “I- I didn't think you'd be home for another hour.”

“It was weirdly quiet today so they let me leave a little early.” Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing, Joe?”

“Tommy, I... It's not you, okay, it's-”

Tommy snorted, shaking his head. “You were, what, gonna leave without even telling me? Have me come home to an empty house and you're just gone?”

Joe sighed, stepping closer to Tommy. As he did, Tommy took a step back. “Tommy, it's- we rushed into this. We both know that. It was fun, for a while, but it's... I don't know, it's not the same.”

“I didn't even know anything was wrong, Joey!” Tommy exclaimed. He reached out and flipped the top of an open box. “You weren't gonna at least try to explain yourself first?”

“I really didn't expect you to be surprised!” Joe replied, his voice rising now as well. “We barely see each other, Tommy! We both have weird schedules, rarely eat a meal together, and half the time I wake up you're asleep in the guest bedroom!”

“Because I don't want to wake you when I get home late! I was trying to let you sleep.”

“I'd rather sleep with my partner!”

Joe breathed in slowly, then held his hands up in surrender. “Tommy, I- you only asked me to move in because of covid-”

“No, I asked you to move in because I wanted to be with you and I was pretty sure you felt the same way.”

“I do, Tommy.”

Tommy scoffed, turning away and heading for the kitchen. Joe followed behind him.

“Hey, I do- did feel the same! But we'd only known each other for a few months, Tommy, and then covid happened and I agreed to move in because I wanted to get to see you but I didn't think it through. We didn't think it all through!”

Tommy opened the fridge, reaching in for a beer. He popped the lid and took a sip, then set it on the counter. He stayed quiet, staring down at the glass bottle.

“Aren't you gonna say anything?” Joe asked.

Tommy shrugged. “Not really sure what you want me to say, Joe, you didn't even want me to know you were leaving.”

Joe brought a hand to the back of his neck, trying to massage away the tension. “Listen, I- I want you to be happy, Tommy. I do care about you and I lo- I like you, but this has not been a relationship for a while. I was lying in bed the other night, alone, and I realized I don't know anything about you. You don't talk about your family, I've never met a single one of your friends or co-workers, I don't know anything about how you grew up or what you did before you became a firefighter.”

“I told you, I was a-”

“I know,” Joe interrupted. “A pilot in the army. That's all I ever got.” Joe moved around the counter to get closer to Tommy. Hesitantly, he reached out and put his hand over Tommy's forearm. “Tommy, you are a wonderful person,” his grip tightened when Tommy rolled his eyes and went to walk away. “No, I'm serious. You're a good listener, you're attentive, thoughtful, funny, and a bitch in the best way, but it's not. It's not what I need. And when you let yourself think about it, I'm not what you need either.”

With his free hand, Tommy fidgeted with his beer bottle. “Great day to choose to move out,” he grumbled.

“You don't even celebrate Christmas, Tommy,” Joe replied, his voice staying calm but firm. “Honestly didn't think you'd care about what particular day it was.”

Joe wasn't totally wrong, Tommy did make his hatred of Christmas well known. But what he didn't know was Tommy asked if he could leave a little early. He planned on making them a nice dinner, just like the one his mom used to make. He wanted to try and have a good Christmas for the first time in a long time. He'd even bought Joe a gift. Tucked into his pocket were reservations to a cabin in northern California. He planned on flying them there himself. They'd be going for Valentine's.

Tommy felt hot, and overwhelmed, and like the house was too small and too big all at once. His eyes were starting to get a little blurry and he desperately needed to get out of there.

“I'm gonna go for a walk,” he said, clearing his throat. He freed himself from Joe's grasp and wiped at his eyes, hurrying toward the door with his head down. “I'll be a couple hours, probably. I'll, um, I'll see ya, Joey.”

He managed to get out and shut the door behind him, part of him hoping that Joe would follow. Chase after him. Yell for him to come back, for them to talk, to fight, to figure this out.

But he didn't.

And Tommy walked.

He walked and walked and walked until the sun had set and all the streetlights came on.

Then he went back to a quiet house. A spare key on the kitchen counter as his only reminder that, for eight months, he wasn't here alone.

[t-folklore13]

Sleep, I’m not going anywhere - Eddie Munson

*

18+ MDNI

Summary: you get sick and your bestfriend Eddie helps you get better

Warnings: vomiting, mild cussing

Not proof read wrote this at 2:00am

Best friends to lovers

I wake up and immediately feel like shit. My body aches, head hurts, nose is absolutely stuffed and runny which makes no sense. I roll over and see 6:30 flash across my alarm clock. I have time to get ready and its hellfire tonight anyways so might as well tough it out through the day.

I slowly get up and move like a zombie to get ready. I put my hair in a bun and start really getting ready, As I’m picking out pants to wear with the “Mandatory attire’ as Eddie calls it i can hear him down the road

How do I know it’s him? No one else is gonna listen to slayer at the ass crack of dawn in the middle of winter. He turns the radio down and I can hear the door bell. The muffled voice of my mom is greeting Eddie and he’s being as charming as always when the door flys open, donut in hand one for me and one for him. “hey I got this for you from the kitchen… are you okay?” I take the food out of of his hand and smile “I’m fine but we should get going dont wanna ruin your perfect attendance”

He fake smiles and flips me off and I know it might be a good day, oh how wrong was I.

When we get to the front of the school I rush inside and Eddie looks confused running after me. I run into the girls bathroom and start throwing up what little food I had in my system. I hear a knock on the stall and turn around “Eddie your not supposed be in here” someone laughs and I open the stall confused “oh hey robin sorry i thought you were eddie’

“It’s okay he actually sent me in here to check on you though he said he “cannot pass the gates of women privacy” or whatever so he found me and sent me in” I smile weakly and she hands me water “thanks” I drink half of it and sigh ‘is he still out there?” She nods and shuffles around in her bag giving me gum “that should make you feel better for now do you want to go to the nurse?”

“No I have a test in O’Donnell and hellfire tonight I can manage” she hugs me and the bell rings “shoot I gotta go but promise you’ll at least get medicine”

“yeah I can do that” the late bell rings and we walk out of bathroom “hey are you okay? You totally scared me” I smile and nod “Yeah I’m fine but we gotta go we have a test remember?” He groans loudly and I laugh. We both walk to class and I try to keep my happy front up

*

Lunch finally rolls around and I just want to try to eat something. I feel someone grab my hand and instantly know it’s Eddie, we walk in silence till we enter the cafeteria “hey you sit down I’ll get you something

“What about you” I look up at him and he shrugs “I’ll just steal from mike and Dustin I’m sure whatever their moms packed is enough”. I smile and walk over to the table finding somewhere to sit, placing my head on it I don’t know how much time passes but I suddenly feel an arm around me then Gareth and Jeff arguing about who can sit where Eddie sits. “here you go my fine lady lunch is served and I stole cranberry juice for you from wheeler”

I take the food and start eating when I get super tired and just lean on eddies chest after a debate on what Eddie had planned for the campaign I hear “hey dude she’s asleep” I want to open my eyes and show them I’m in fact not asleep but cannot find the energy to do so when i feel Eddie shaking my shoulder then feel my head “Oh shit she’s burning up” I feel a cold sensation on the back of my neck and smile snuggling into Eddie further. “Hey sweetheart wake up we’re going to the office”

“What for?” he lifts me up and we start walking “I’m taking you home” I want to argue but I can’t I’m too tired and my bed doesn’t sound like a bad idea right now “hey we are gonna leave she isn’t feeling well” The office lady looks at me holding onto Eddie then him “she looks sick and will be excused but you will not’ I hear him scoff and scribble on some paper “I’m over eighteen I can do whatever I damn please and if I wanna take care of my girl I will, so we’re leaving” I must really be sick because I just hallucinated Eddie calling me his girl

Eddie opens the door and the air feels great against my hot skin. I try to talk but mumble instead and Eddie just picks me up “We’re almost there sweetheart okay hold tight the office called your mom and said I’m with you its okay” I hear the door open and he places me into the van I fully fall asleep and the last thing I feel is Eddie rubbing my leg.

I start to wake up and look around but it’s really dark in my room, just then Eddie walks in with soup, medicine, and more blankets “hey I didn’t know if you had a migraine so I kept it dark but you need to eat so I made you soup” I look at him while he sets everything down and smile “thank you Ed’s how long have I been out?”

“Only an hour but your mom called and said she’s stuck in Illinois because of weather so I’m staying here and taking care of you” I partly take in the information and reach for the soup but stop and lay back down “you need help sweetheart?” I I mumble and he starts to hand feed me the soup

My throat suddenly burns and I start having a coughing fit, Eddie rubs my back and holds my hair “hey you wanna lay back down?” I take a deep breath and cough again “yes” as I lay down I hear him getting up and shuffling away, so I grab his arm and grumble “no eds stay please” he sighs and crawls over me, getting under the blankets and wrapping his arms around me

“Sleep, I’m not going anywhere”

I smile and he rubs my stomach slowly pulling me back to slumber

~

When I wake back up again for the second time Eddie isn’t here and I feel like I got ten times worse “Eddie?” It comes out weak and horse, I feel like crying did he leave? Did he get bored? I feel a knot in my throat when the door opens “oh hey your awake are you okay sweetheart your eyes are watering” I smile and grab onto his arm “I’m okay now”

As soon as I say that I feel bile build up and rush past Eddie to the bathroom, he runs behind me and hold my hair back after throwing up the only food I ate today and dry heaving for five minutes it finally stops “Ed’s it hurts”

“I know it does baby do you want to take a bath relax your muscles a bit?” I nod and he starts running the water and I hand him the bubbles, when the bath is filled he grabs my bath towel and a new shirt “hey sweetheart are you okay from here?” I nod and when he’s about to walk away I grab him “um before I get in the bath could you stay by the door and when I say it’s okay could you come back in I don’t wanna be alone”

His neck flushes pink and he nods “um yeah when your decent just yell my name” I undress and look at the bun Eddie put in my hair smiling, I ease myself into the bath and sigh at how good it feels making sure there’s enough bubbles to cover me “Eddie? You can come it now” the door opens and he has his hand over his eyes “are you sure?” I laugh and shake my head

“Yes you goon now tell me about the upcoming campaign” while hearing his soothing voice as well as his imaginative story telling I start to feel sleepy everything is so nice right now “hey your falling asleep on me do you wanna lay down?” I nod and feel super weak “could you just turn around while I get situated”

“Of course” I dry off and put my clothes on then tap his shoulder “I feel weak could you help me to the bed” he picks me up effortlessly and starts waking to my room “are you getting worse? Do you need more medicine or a doctor” I shake my head and he sets me down “I just need you” he smiles and lays down next to me

“I think that’s the medicine talking” in my hazy state my mouth works faster then my common sense “no it’s me talking duh because I’m so in love with you and I feel safe around you” a faint kiss on my forehead is the last thing I hear as I again fall asleep

“I love you too baby”

[stxrslutrestored]

SILENT TREATMENT

pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie reader

summary; even after your little confrontation, rafe continues to neglect you, so when he tries to give you his affections, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, little do you know how well that may end for you

content; body worship, oral (f receiving)

authors note; re upload! part 2 of waiting for you

last night was good, you wake up feeling relieved, happy to have finally resolved your issue with rafe. you can’t wait to spend time with him today. you roll over when you feel him stir, a smile pasted on your lips, “mornin’ rafe,” you grin, hand coming up to caress his sleepy face. he looks so pretty in the mornings. 

a little smile creeps onto his lips as well, his eyes peel open and he meets your loving gaze, “hi sweetheart.” 

you move to cuddle closer to him, but to your surprise he sits up. you sit up too, but don’t follow him as he gets out of bed and grabs his clothes. 

you tilt your head in slight confusion, but you keep smiling, “where you goin’? we only just woke up.” you’re dreading the next sentence to come out of his mouth. 

he nods absently, “yeah uh.. I just—” he points to the door over his shoulder, “got some work to do.” his voice trails off, and before you know it, he’s walking out the door. 

son of a bitch. 

you sit there for a few minutes in the company of your own silence. you can’t believe it. you’d had a whole fight last night, he’d acknowledged that he was prioritising work too much, and now, at seven in the morning, with no deadline, he’s gone back to it. without paying you a single glance at that. 

you get over it, sure, you are totally over it. you spend the day with yourself, but you can’t help but be peeved the entire time. in the evening you make yourself a meal, only yourself, one portion. rafe is nowhere to be seen, so why should you cook for him?

when he comes downstairs you are on the couch watching the tv with your meal in a tray on your lap. he walks over to the kitchen where the empty pot lies still on the stove. upon opening the lid of the pot and finding nothing his face falls, “you didn’t cook for both of us?” he asks, brows furrowed as he speaks to the back of your head. 

“I didn’t know you wanted food.” you say, “been workin’ all day, didn’t even know if you were gonna come down.” you take another mouthful of your meal.

“what am I supposed to eat?” his face contorts in slight frustration. he looks like a kicked puppy. he hadn’t had to actually think about what to get for dinner for ages, you’d always taken care of it.

“I don’t know,” you put a sickly sweet twinge in your voice, “you could get takeout… or cook. do you know how to do that?” you know it’s a bit of a mean comment but god dammit you’re hurt. he’s hurt you and you will hurt him back until he realises how shitty he’s treated you. 

it continues all week. the snarky comments and disregards of each other. rafe keeps to his work and you keep to yourself. 

you both ignore it with great passion. neither of you caring to acknowledge all the feelings, knowing that when you do, it will be a turmoil that you just don’t want to face.

of course it has to happen, and in a turn of unexpected events, it’s rafe who initiates the conversation. 

you’re just getting into your night clothes when he enters the room, speaking your name. he leans against the doorframe to talk to you. “you look nice.” he says bluntly. 

you smile, but you don’t look up at him, “thankyou.” you slip your nightdress on and then stand to walk over to bed. 

he sighs and meets you before you can sit down, “uhm.. d’you wanna.. maybe do something..” he asks, it’s awkward, he barely ever has to ask, normally it just happens. his hand rests on your hip. 

you shrug, “I don’t know.. I’m pretty tired actually.” you tell him, looking up at him, and yet it’s not an intimate eye contact like it should be right before you climb into bed with him.

“come on.” he murmurs, “let’s just.. be together y’know.” he smirks tentatively, rubbing your hip now, but you don’t return his energy. 

“no. I think I’d rather just go to sleep. you can lie with me if you want.” you make to move past him but he stops you, holding you back. 

“no.” he raises his voice slightly but quickly corrects his tone. “no— no you’re- you’re ignorin’ me.” he pulls you in front of him, his head cranes down just a little bit to keep your gaze. “I know why. okay— I get it but— I- I can’t make it up to you if you don’t let me.” 

you shake your head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about rafe,” you speak so matter of factly, “I just wanna go to sleep right now.” 

“no. no.” he pushes you back, “let— lemme make it up to you.” he speaks, frowning in upset, “I can show you I- let me show you that I’m sorry okay.” 

you furrow your eyebrows, it’s not like rafe to speak like this, he’s never sorry for anything he does, he believes every action he takes has a purpose and that nobody has a right to complain about them. rafe saying sorry is basically him admitting he’s completely and utterly pussy whipped. 

you stay sceptical though, “mhm. what are you gonna do to show me rafe? fuck me? again? for the one hundredth something time in our relationship?” you raise an eyebrow.

rafe stutters, thoughts faltering as you call out the plan he thought to be impeccable. “I’m- I’m not just gonna fuck you.. okay I- I-”

“you’re what? gonna make love to me? touch my innocence? be intimate—” the agitation in your voice starts to come through, you do just want to get into bed. 

his hands come to your shoulders, but the touch is gentle, not firm or commanding like it normally is. he hesitates for a moment and then makes a decisive noise. suddenly he’s lowering all the way to his knees, hands still firm on your shoulders.

“I- I love you okay.” he looks up to you, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. his hands pull at your nightdress, tugging it off and discarding it to the floor. his hands run down your body. 

“love this body,” he says, “love you. love you so much.” he kisses your lower tummy, maybe in an effort to hide his now falling tears. you didn’t think your silent treatment would provoke such an emotional reaction from him.

“rafe…” you frown, hand coming to the back of his head as he looks right back up to you. you think about telling him to leave it because you feel bad, but then you realise that this despair in him could get you something good, and so you decide to be selfish. “show me.” you tell him, “show me how much you love me.”

rafe’s head lowers and he begins to move down your body. he starts to place wet open mouthed kisses on every spot that his face passes and his hands follow after. he works his way all the way down until he’s kissing just above your pussy. 

“god.” he exhales, “gonna— gonna show you okay.” his hands come up to support your hips as he brings his face down again and his open mouth comes into contact with your most sensitive spot. 

you seethe a breath, legs weakening from the contact but his grip on you is strong and he keeps you upright as he begins to move his mouth. 

he kisses and sucks with ease, tongue swirling around your clit. you have to hold back surprise at the fact he’s so good at this, you’re not sure he’s ever eaten you out before. 

he lets out little murmurs and breaths that seem to send vibrations through your entire body. you have to throw your head back in pleasure, you feel so good.

rafe comes back for a breath, pulling away with a pop. his lips and chin are glistening with your wetness, he looks up to you with wide eyes and swollen lips. 

“do you believe me.” he asks breathlessly, he looks so desperate. so desperate. you take sympathy on him, his hurt puppy look, those wide sad eyes.

you nod, “I believe you. I know you love me.” you smile down at him. he lets out a breath of relief, a smile forming on his own shiny lips. 

he keeps your gaze for a moment and then he goes back down, now with a newfound energy that just makes it so much better. with his face still buried in your pussy he makes to turn you around so that you can fall back onto the bed. you realise now, that you are in for a good night.

[procyonloser]

Adam didn't know what to say, how to react, or what to do - nothing could have prepared him for this. Upon his creation, many things were confusing, strange, befuddling, and upon his removal from Eden, he got a taste of how the world could sting.

But nothing, nothing could have prepared Adam for walking into Lute's condo and finding a body pillow with him on it.

She turned fifty shades of gray and stammered over her words, trying to defend the purchase. She hadn't ordered it, she said. She got it from Peter.

'Peter dating my son, Peter', Adam had asked her, to silence, as Lute broke out a window to jump out of an fly away.

Adam looked down at the pillow, it was his normal outfit. He turned it over and found art of himself face down, ass up, with a little bunny tail.

Nope. He burned it right to hell.

Adam tracked down Peter next, who smiled upon seeing him, then turned pale as he realized Adam wasn't happy. He tried to escape, but Adam was quicker and larger than him. Peter turned bright red when Adam slammed him up against a wall, letting out a small moan that made his skin crawl.

'Explain the fucking pillow,' Adam snarled in his face.

And Peter did.

They hadn't been made in heaven, which was less shocking - they'd been made in hell, but Peter didn't know who by. He just found a truck load, and apparently there was a line around the block to pick one up. Why people wanted a pillow of Adam in a slutty pose, Adam had no idea. He was a badass exorcist alpha male rock legend, not some bitch.

Peter said as far as he knew, the pillows had come out of the Greed ring. Which Adam wasn't supposed to go to. He wasn't allowed there. It wasn't part of the agreement, he wasn't supposed to upset the heirarchy in the hellborn by reminding them all they were nothing compared to him a human soul.

Adam went anyway.

He found one of Mammon's factories, and felt stunned silent for the second time in one day. There wasn't just one pillow of him in production, there was an entire series of them, and some were blatantly pornographic. He was happy they gave him a totally accurately sized huge dick, but he wasn't as thrilled with the things that were up his ass or down his throat in half the pillows.

Technically, he wasn't allowed to kill hellborns, but he was allowed to pull the fire alarm and then blow the whole place to smithereens.

Flying home, he had to pass through Pride, where he was quick to run into the face he hated most.

Lucifer hung in the sky, arms crossed, horns high.

'Mammon told me what you did, you know we have cameras now, right?' Lucifer asked tiredly, and Adam just parroted him mockingly, before telling him to get the fuck out of the way. 'No, you can't just attack the private property of one of my people, my sins, without answering for it. Those sex dolls cost Mammon a lot to produce.'

Adam stared, and stared.

'... Dolls? I burned down the body pillows.'

Lucifer froze, nervously laughing. 'That's what I meant, of course. Pillows. Right. That's all he's made of you.'

Adam decided in that moment all sinners must die.

[ocean-bookss]

❄️ 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ❄️

Leon Kennedy x Reader

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ★

Snow falls gently outside my living room window while the warm glow of fairy lights fills the space with a cozy atmosphere. The scent of cinnamon, oranges, and a hint of mulled wine lingers in the air. My friends are scattered across my couch and armchairs, glasses clinking softly as Jill laughs at one of Carlos' jokes.

"Alright, everyone, before you're all too tipsy, let's do the Secret Santa exchange!" Claire raises her voice above the hum of Christmas music. She's curled up with her legs tucked under her, holding her mulled wine tightly.

My heart sinks into my stomach. The Secret Santa exchange. The gift. Leon. My eyes dart to him briefly. He's sitting a little apart from the others, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, nursing a half-full glass of whiskey. The flickering lights cast shadows across his sharp features, and his thoughtful gaze is focused on the drink in his hand. How can someone look so effortlessly good while just sitting there?

A light nudge on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts. Jill grins knowingly at me. "Hey, you're practically shaking. You okay, (Y/n)?"

"Yeah, totally fine," I mumble and take another sip from my drink. It's my third, I think. Or my fourth? Who's counting, anyway?

Carlos raises his voice. "Alright, who's up first?"

One by one, we hand out our gifts. Jill bursts out laughing when she unwraps an absurd reindeer onesie from Carlos, Claire squeals over a personalized pocket knife, and Leon gifts Claire a high-end flashlight that looks like it could survive the apocalypse. The mood is light, and the drinks keep flowing.

"Okay," Claire begins, her eyes landing squarely on me. "Your turn, (Y/n)."

My heart is pounding so loudly, I'm sure the others can hear it. I feel everyone's eyes on me, especially Leon's. He looks relaxed but curious.

"Uh, yeah, so..." I clear my throat and stand up. My hands are trembling slightly as I grab the gift from the table. The boxing gloves are neatly wrapped, the vodka bottle securely placed beside them, and the card is carefully tucked between the two. "This is for you, Leon," I say, holding the package out to him.

His icy blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. He takes the gift from me, his warm fingers brushing mine, and I can only hope I'm not visibly blushing.

"Thank you, (Y/n)." His voice is deep and calm. "Open it!" Jill calls out excitedly, elbowing Claire, who looks equally invested.

Leon sets his glass down and carefully unwraps the package with an ease that makes me even more nervous. When he pulls out the boxing gloves first, his eyebrows raise slightly.

"Boxing gloves? These are... great. My old ones are pretty worn out." He smiles at me, and my heart skips a beat.

"And vodka," he mutters, holding up the bottle. "You really know how to make a guy happy, (Y/n)."

Claire and Jill shoot me conspiratorial glances, and Carlos chuckles behind his glass. "There's also... a card," I stammer, feeling the last bit of courage draining from me. Leon pulls out the card and opens it. My heart stops, and I forget how to breathe entirely. His eyes scan over the words, and then he looks back up at me. His gaze is warm, soft, but also... surprised?

"'If you're up for it, I'd love to take you out to dinner. Just the two of us.'" Leon reads the words aloud softly, then lowers the card.

Silence fills the room, and I'm pretty sure Claire and Jill are practically boring holes into us with their stares.

Leon stands up and takes a step toward me. I'm frozen in place, unable to move an inch.

"Thanks for the gifts, (Y/n)." His smile is gentle, and his eyes hold an expression I can't quite decipher. "I'd really like that."

A massive weight lifts from my chest, and I can't stop the wide smile spreading across my face. "Really? I mean... cool! That's great."

"I'm looking forward to it." He slips the card into his jacket pocket and lifts the vodka bottle slightly. "Maybe we can crack this open on our date."

Jill can't hold it in any longer. "Finally! Oh my God!"

"Hey, hey, don't scare them off now," Carlos says, holding up his hands in mock surrender, but he's grinning widely.

Leon shakes his head slightly, trying to hide a smirk. "Thank you, (Y/n). Really. This is one of the best gifts I've received in a long time."

"I'm... I'm glad you like it," I reply honestly, and this time, I meet his gaze without looking away.

The music continues to play, and the others settle back into their spots. Leon sits back in his armchair, but this time, he glances over at me more often. And every time our eyes meet, I feel a warm flutter in my stomach.

─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─

Later That Night

The others have already made themselves comfortable in my guest rooms, and the apartment has fallen quiet. Only I remain in the kitchen, clearing away the last of the glasses. "You're still up?" Leon's voice makes me jump slightly. He's leaning against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

"Yeah, I... just wanted to clean up a bit."

He steps closer, leaning casually against the kitchen counter. "Thank you again for the gift. And the invitation."

I smile shyly. "No problem. I thought... it might be a nice idea."

"It was." He smiles softly, and for a moment, it feels like time stops.

We stand there in silence for a moment. Then Leon pushes away from the counter and steps closer to me.

"Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

"Merry Christmas, Leon."

Before I can even process what's happening, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. His lips are warm and gentle, and I'm pretty sure my heart just stopped beating.

When he pulls back, there's a faint smile on his face. "Good night."

He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there, frozen in place. My hand instinctively rises to my cheek, and I can't stop the wide grin from spreading across my face.

Maybe this Christmas wasn't just another night with friends. Maybe it was the start of something beautiful.

─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─

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[rjshope]

gifmaker / cc wrapped 2024!

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january:

⟡ Yoongi with painted hands // he's cute here no arguments from me ♡ adorkable namgi // lol ♡ that Namjoon live // i'm still recovering btw

february:

⟡ happy Hope on the street♡ rapline saving Jin // i love how you can see their personalities here ♡ Jimin as the cutest dinosaur ever // esp soft for this one

march:

⟡ thank you fo being my artist Jimin live // he said very important thing here ♡ namjin bickering (+Hobi enjoying the show) // i live for bickering namjin ♡ Hobi being Yoongi's favorite seat // yoongi never beating lil meow meow allegations

april:

⟡ Tae and his big brown eyes // y'all just couldn't resist him could you?😁 ♡ that Malta Namjoon // despite the fact that this is my least fav bv season i have a soft spot for this gifset ♡ Dimple gifset for Kayla's birthday // very special work for my very special person🌷

may:

⟡ vibing Namjoon // lmao this is just two simplest b&w gifs and what have y'all done??? 🙈🙈 ♡ namjin laughing // luv my soft boys ♡ Nuts MV // i'm just a weak woman what do you want from me

june:

⟡ SYS Final Kim Taehyung // i'm happy with it, i love this gifset very much <3 ♡ hyung line dynamic in a nutshell // they never fail to crack me up lmao ♡ laughing namgi // so wholesome i love them so much!

july:

⟡ Jin being a good infuence on Namjoon pt.2 // i carried the thought of this gifset in my head for two years, it displays perfectly why these two are so important to me and it's nice to see this post being so appreciated ♡ Hobi being handsome to infinity and beyond // i'm still lost for words you know ♡ Tae gifset for Annie's birthday // this one is very important to me bc it took a lot of my time, blood and sweat to make it, and seeing it floped breaks my heart. Well at least Annie liked it, that's the most important thing. ♡ namjin "revenge is sweet" gifset // if you hear someone making weird evil giggling noises that's me

august:

⟡ jihope being jihope // this is not a gifset this is a happy pill ♡ hyung line from memories of 2015 // i hope i don't need to explain this?!?! ♡ RJ comforting rapline // i'm still sobbing

september:

⟡ namgi dealing with their Jin-hyung // lol#2 ♡ Namjoon birthday compilation gifset // it was my first time doing something like this and i really love how it turned out ♡ maknae line for Pat's birthday // i know this is my post but whenever i see it i sit and look at it in awe (i'm allowed to be proud with myself from time to time) ♡ sope flirting // they are so married it's annoying

october:

⟡ Jin and his mindset // if more of us were like him it would be a merrier place (yes, quoting king of my heart here) ♡ namseok gifset for Julia's birthday // i had so much fun making these ♡ peach Namjoon // iykyk ♡ winter package 2020 hyung line // rare photoshoot with just four of them in the same unit

november:

⟡ Jin, Joon, the saxophone and Jimmy Fallon // totally agree with y'all😌 ♡ Bangbangcon namgi // Yoongi's smile i'm gonna sob ♡ Namjoon and his healing smile // i miss him so much ♡ Jin performing Another Level // i do not make performances gifset often and this is a good song and a good performance and i love how these look

december:

⟡ cute barefaced Yoongi from ITS1 // lol we all are so whipped for him ♡ Jin for Dicon // playing with color isolation was fun ♡ soft (and a bit drunken) Hobi from ITS1 // the look on his face make my heart flutter ♡ cuteness agression namgi // i can't stop giggling, Yoongi your crush is showing ♡ ON Kinetic Manifesto Film Shoot Sketch | Hyung line // my boys looking fine as hell, that's it that's the tweet

Idk if it me or you really can see how my january gifs look different from december gifs. It didn't happen on purpose, but it's something that is interesting to see.

It fun to see how my year started with 2019 year and with MOTS: Persona era. And now i'm closing it by entering BE and Life Goes On era *breathes out* Yeah, life goes on and my journey goes on as well😁

Anyway it was my second year here and i'd like to thank you all for staying with me, for you support, for your reblogs and comments, it means a lot💖 I enjoyed this ride, let's continue next year with the boys!

tagging @namchyoon @kimtaegis @jung-koook @hvseoks @btsiu

@taee @kth1 @heybaetae @oumoumimi (no pressure ofc <3)

[averygrambsbankaccount]

Can you write a lyrason fic,they in the grayson's birthday please.

yes sure! I decided to combine this request with this one and also change it a bit (oops!)

(yes I know I did spin the bottle instead of drink or dare) (im sorry that it’s bad)

spin the bottle!

Lyra and Grayson weren’t exactly dating, at least not in a way that the definition of the word dating covered. They tiptoed around each-other, sneaking longing glances, and maybe one or two more stolen kisses. Or three.

If Lyra was honest, she’s a bit tired of the game. Maybe she does just want Grayson, the arrogant asshole he is, to be her actual…boyfriend.

Grayson’s birthday party wasn’t planned by him, which was obvious if you’d ever met him. His hatred of people would have never allowed something like this. Clearly, his brothers had planned this as some kind of cruel joke on him, and now he had to stand there like a puppet in his thousand dollar suit and greet everyone they invited to the party.

Honestly, Lyra was pretty happy about her invitation. The party was actually fun. She’d never been to a rich person party before, and it was certainly something else.

Maybe the most fun part, though, was watching Grayson stand there uncomfortably, his strong shoulders stiff and his back as straight as a ruler. He greeted the weird rich people who walked past him into the surrounding area, full of fairy lights and tables and food. Whoever had designed this backyard pool type party was a genius.

Lyra sat at a table by herself, sipping some weird rich people drink she assumed had alcohol in it but wasn’t entirely sure about, and she watched the blonde Hawthorne pretend to be a people person.

It’s funny how he tries to hide his awkwardness, she thought.

Someone slid into the seat across from her, and it was none other than the Hawthorne heiress, holding a champagne flute. Her brown hair cascaded down her shoulders and she looked dazzling as ever.

“You should go over and talk to him, you know,” Avery said, looking down into the depths of her drink.

“And why would I do that?” Lyra crossed her arms and leaned back in the cushioned outdoor chair. Man, these things are comfortable.

“Because you like him. And he likes you. And this forced birthday party is a really good chance to make him less uptight.” The heiress took a sip of her champagne and wiggled her manicured eyebrows.

“No way,” Lyra picked at her nails. “…Do you really think so?”

It was no secret that Avery and Jameson and most other Hawthornes and Hawthorne adjacents shipped Grayson and Lyra, but Lyra wanted to hear confirmation from the girl sitting beside her.

“Totally!” Avery leaned forward. “Do you see the way he looks at you?”

Lyra bites her lip. “Yeah.” She says, but quiet enough that it’s possible Avery didn’t hear.

“Just…give it a shot, Lyra.” Avery stands and walk back towards Jameson, who’s talking to Xander by the pool.

Lyra takes a deep breath and one more drink of her maybe alcoholic drink and stands to walk towards the stoic blonde.

I can do this. I can do this. Lyra played encouraging messages on a loop in her brain.

“Grayson.”

“Lyra.” He turned to her, the barest of smiles on the corners of his lips, but that was often the best you could get out of Grayson Hawthorne.

“I-“ Lyra cut herself off, realizing she didn’t actually know what she was going to ask.

Her eyes scanned the area around them, landing on a group of younger attendees playing spin the bottle on the grass. Lyra wasn’t a particularly crazy party type person, but she did enjoy taking risks from time to time.

A smirk appeared on her face. “Come here, Grayson.” She grabbed his arm and led him over the group.

“Could we join, please?”

“Yeah, sure!” A girl in beautiful designer gown that was definitely getting grass stains at the moment said without looking up. When she did, she seemed absolutely shocked at the man standing with Lyra. “And…him, too?”

Lyra couldn’t blame her; no one would expect Grayson Hawthorne to play spin the bottle.

“No, no.” Grayson backed away shaking his head. “Sorry. There must have been a misunderstanding.” He gave Lyra a glare.

“Sorry, he’s shy.” Lyra smiled sweetly at them, then turned to Grayson.

“Could you please, please, please, please play?” She put her best puppy dog eyes, the ones she had only ever used on her mom for extra dessert. “For me?”

She didn’t give him a choice or a chance to respond. She simply dragged him to the ground beside her, in the empty space left in the circle and said “We’re playing.”

If Lyra could have taken a picture of Grayson’s surprised face in that moment, she would’ve framed it and hung it on her wall.

She gripped onto his hand as tight as she could, her knuckles going white. She would not back down, she’s gone too far. If she doesn’t commit, she’ll be just as much of a coward as she was before Avery convinced her.

Grayson kept trying to pull away, but she refused to give in.

The bottle was spun in the middle of the big circle. It landed on two random people, two more random people, and then…Lyra.

Her breathing sped up. I did not think this through, did I?

This might be the day Lyra becomes a devout worshipper, because only God could have given her the luck it required to have the bottle spun again and land on the man beside her; Grayson Fucking Hawthorne.

Lyra didn’t want to waste time, but she did stall a bit while turning to him. Even though they had kissed before, she was still inexplicably scared. 

Her courage came in remembering Avery’s words. She liked him and he liked her, and she could make this mean something.

She grabbed his face and kissed him to the sounds of the group cheering them on. He was silent before, but his lips were anything but. Grayson kissed her back fiercely. He kissed her like no one else was there.

When Lyra pulled back, she giggled, and she looked over to see Grayson having that familiar almost-smile on his face.

“Birthday boy!” The boy sitting beside Grayson clapped on the back and laughed. “Nice, man!”

Grayson didn’t respond to him or any of the others in the group cheering on his sudden break of character, instead just looking intensely at Lyra. All these people here knew him as the stoic business man who takes himself too seriously. So to see Grayson Hawthorne make out with a girl? In front of a crowd?

Well that’s a once in a lifetime chance. That’s something.

And when Lyra led him away and they went behind a wall and kissed again she knew it was something. When they kissed for so long they forgot where they were and her head was spinning and people were looking for Grayson to sing happy birthday, she knew it was something. When Grayson walked out with her, holding her hand and not even telling her to fix her smudged lipstick, she knew it was something.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

♧ Xmas Times ♧ Various AIB!Boys x GN!Reader

AU: No-Borderlands - Established Relationships with all of them - SFW - Banda is still red flag - grammar mistakes -

ARISU

Soft boy! He loves this month. Not only because he gets an excuse to buy new lights and re decorate him room and gaming room. He actually decorates the whole aparment.

"Its never too early too set up the tree" Him probably

If you two are living together its going to be a hell of a month in the good way. Arisu LOVES IT. He is going to look out for different activities around the city and take you there. Try the new sweets and even go and buy matching sweaters and socks.

Loves to cuddle with you on the sofa while drinking hot cocoa, corny films ? Yes. Hell yes. He is all up for them even if he knows the ending.

MISTOLETE KISS!! Uses any chance to get you both under one and kiss you. Depends on his mood where he is going to kiss you but nose and lips are his firsts options.

CHISHIYA

This Man never cared over festivities and would actually to and take the xmas turn at the hospital to keep himself away from it.

Quiet insensitive about it and sees it most like a way of corporations to get money.

Plus he never got to experience a good xmas with his family..

Its up to you to take on the decorations and xmas mood!! He Will let you do whatever you want with the aparment as long as it does not touches his home office.

If you two prefer to mostly ignore it then its just another month. But Chishiya Will take xmas off and stay with you.

Gets you a big suprise present and when you do the same for him, he tries his best just how happy he is.

NIRAGI

Maybe you never imagine this, but he loves this month. During his childhood him and his mother would have the best of times setting up the tree and getting decorations, making cookies and singing xmas songs.

So yes, he expects quiet the same now that he is with you.

Like Arisu, he uses this time to buy more lights, the house looks like a dance place during night. Because he cant settle down for one color.

Will make you a cute interactive game that ends with "Happy Xmas, I love you"

Now wont admit it, but please cuddle him. Specially on cold mornings, he loves the natural heat more than having the califaction going on.

Kisses your head all the time and gets you a scarf tras too big For you. He thinks you look adorable.

TATTA

Another soft boy who has no idea what to do. If he is honest he cant really recall a special memory of xmas so he is lost and doing the standar things.

Totally checks the internet to see whats he is supposed to do.

Gets you tons of presents (five at least) because he feels like he is not at home a lot since his work gets more demanding during this month.

Get him a toy car with a controlled and he is the happyest guy alive.

Does not waste a chance on kissing you. Does not care if its on public or at home. Because to him its not only xmas but love season as well!!

BANDA SUNATO

He likes it because red blood goes amazing with white snow.

Really. The only time he leaves the city and goes to the countryside to hunt down peopel in the woods.

Does not care much for presents or decorations.

Just get him a New knife and he is happy, let him use it on you and its even better.

KARUBE

Man he is burned out with his bar. This month is demanding for him. Gets home late and tired. If you caress his hair and tell him sweet nothings he becomes a puppy.

Asks you to help him out decorating the bar (and Arisu) it ends looking amazing and then you make a personal competition to make your aparment with him look even better.

Is amazed how you managed to over due yourself.

Get him hawaii shirts please. Even if its no the time for it. He loves them and hates snow clothes.

The most kisser one.

You bet he adds mistelotes at home and at the bar. And is so ready to jump over you at any moment.

AGUNI

Asks you to help him decorate his flower shop but not too much cause he is worried the flowers Will suffer.

Sings xmas songs softly when he thinks you are not near (you are, you recorder him).

The xmas tree looks healthy and Aguni its so proud of how it looks he cant stop taking pictures of it.

Gets all flustered when you give him presents during the month. And wonders how did you get such a comfortable sweater for him ? Since he is all muscles?

Well he doubles it getting you a big Teddy bear.

[mattsgold]

sorry

warnings: angst, arguing, swearing

synopsis: matt and y/n’s day starts off fine and happy but when he comes back from work that all suddenly changes

matt and y/n

enjoy reading!!

7:42 am

the day started off like any other day…

you woke up in the master bedroom of the shared apartment that you and matt bought to get ready for class and looked over to matt still sleeping. you lay some freshly washed clothes on the bed and go to take a shower. walking out in a towel, you change your clothes and head out into the kitchen to make coffee and quick breakfast for yourself and matt when he wakes up before you go. suddenly, you hear tussling from the bedroom.. matt rushes out into the kitchen with his phone “I gotta go to the warehouse, the merch came in and nick and chris want to hand sign the first 1000.” he says. “okay, I’ll be heading to class too, I’ll catch a train. do you want me to pack your breakfast for you?” you say. “yes please, thank you sweet girl” he sighs in relief. you pour his coffee into a travel cup and put his bagel into a container, you hand it over to him with a kiss. “have a good day matt, i love you!” you say. “thanks baby, have a good day and i love you too!” matt yells before closing the door. you look down at your phone only to realize it’s already 8 and you don’t have time to eat. you grab your sweater, shoes and bag then rush out the door forgetting about the dishes piled up in the sink and the mess you made.

12:57 pm

finally you were back home

you professor was a total dick and he gave you a terrible remarks about your hard work. anyways, it was finals season so you hard lots to study. you went straight past the messy living room and to the shared master bedroom to study at your desk.

6:35 pm

your phone beeped with a notification from matt.

you put down your pen to open you phone to see “coming home now.” which was a little weird because matt usually isn’t that dry, but it’s fine.. maybe he’s tired. you reply with a thumbs up and put your phone down. you decide to take a break from studying and make dinner for you and your boyfriend. you head to the kitchen and boil some water to make pasta.

when you almost done plating it, matt unlocks and opens the door, then slams it shut… maybe he’s tired didn’t realize he did that. “hi matt!” you say from the kitchen hoping that he can hear you from the hallway. no response. you bring the plates with the hot pasta onto the table, set them down and go to find matt. he’s in the bedroom changing his clothes so you decide to give him some privacy and don’t barge in. “matt? dinners ready okay?” you say through the door. “m’kay.” matt says. you go and sit at the table waiting for him. when he comes out, he grabs the plate and goes to sit on the couch in the living room.

oh, it’s fine you thought. so you got up and sat next to him on the couch. “hey baby, how was you day?” you asked. “fine” he said, mindlessly scrolling on his phone. you peered your head over his shoulder to see what he was watching out of curiosity but was left hurt when he abruptly got up and left to go to the bedroom. you took yours and his plate and put it on the counter then left to go see what was making matters so upset.

you walk in to see matt in bed already having changed out of his day clothes into pyjama pants. you also changed you clothes into one of matts shirts and your panties then got into bed. matts back was turned to face you coldly and so you decided to try and break the ice by putting your arm around his waist. he quickly turns. “the fuck are you doing?” “can’t you just leave me alone for once, you don’t have to be clinging to me all the time y’know” he huffs. “what, I’m so confused matt.” “what’s wrong” you say. “oh please, stop trying to be naive, it’s not cute when your so fucking lazy.” “you barely take care of the apartment. the dishes are piled in the sink and your work is all over the place!” “the desk, the island, the coffee table. it’s fucking pathetic.” he yells. “matt, I’m sorry.” “ive been so busy with finals and studying” you say. “save it. go, go to the guest room.” he says sternly “no matt baby come on what’s bothering you?” you ask. “you, now go.” he says coldly.

so you do, you decide to give him space and go to the guest room.

3:32 am

you stare are the alarm clock with teary eyes wondering if he really meant that you were lazy and pathetic. little did you know, matt was also up, bearing the consequences of his actions. matt had gotten so used to sleeping with either your hand or head on his chest that tonight he realized he couldn’t sleep without it. guilt was gnawing at him, to put his pride aside for the relationship that might be on the line. so with a heavy heart, matt got up from the bed and walked over to the guest room. he opened the door to find you sobbing and shivering, he felt a pang of guilt in his heart knowing that it was because of his actions. he picks you up of the bed, “matt?” you say with a groggy voice. “don’t worry sweet girl im here, not going anywhere.” matt says. they make it to the shared master bedroom and matt places you on the bed with care then gets in too and pulls the covers over the two of you. “sweet girl, im so sorry, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I was just having a shit day- not a reason to take it out on you though. the manufacturer for the merch got the orders wrong and there was a whole heated argument with me and chris, again no excuse to take it out of you. im so sorry for yelling at you, i promise i wont do it again.” matt says. “baby im so sorry” he sighs. “it’s okay matt, just promise me that you’ll talk to me if you have a hard day. you don’t have to push me away, im here to help you cause i care about you.” you say. “yeah sweetheart, i promise. im so sorry for ignoring you during dinner, it tasted really good though, I’ll make it up to you i swear.” he says. “don’t worry matt. I love you.” you say with affection. “I love you more sweet girl, thank you for being so understanding with me” says matt.

from then on, matt and y/n resolved problems and arguments by cooling off and then talking to each other because they knew that they could get through anything together.

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws 💗

hope you guys enjoyed my first fic!! see you soon!!

[tizeline]

Now that 2024 is coming to a close:

1) Of everything you've made this year, which ones are you the most proud of?

2) What are a few of your favorite things (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

Ooo fun ask!

1 - So in general I'm just really happy with how the entire Separated AU developed throughout the year! I created it almost exactly a year ago now (the anniversary is on the december 26th btw, might have something planned for that). And I've mentioned it before but I really wasn't planning on developing into a proper story originally, I thought of the basic concept one day and thought it was neat so I just wanted to put it out there. So I made a SINGULAR post and that was all I initially planned to do, but then I came up with more and more ideas and before I knew it the AU got fucking SECOND PLACE IN THE TMNT AU COMPETETION!? HELLO?? Yeah turns out people like my silly little AU, to this day I'm constantly blown away with all the positivity I recieve from this fandom and it means the world to me ueueueu 😭💕

I've made quite a few TSAU comics over the year, but the first TSAU comic I made that was longer than just a page or so was the Cell Talk comic and it still holds a special place in my heart for that reason. (Also it's where the whole bit about TSAU!Leo being a huge Shadow fanboy originated from so that's awesome)

There's also a certain project I've participated in and made art for that I'm really excited to show you guys, but I'm not really supposed to talk about that yet so uhhhhhh 🤫 you guys are just gonna have to wait for that one lol. Either way, I'm proud of myself for being being part of that :D

2 - OKAY ENOUGH ABOUT ME, time to give some other people the spotlight!!

First of all, special shout out to anyone who has made fanart of my AU, I love love LOVE you so much!!! 💕

The art that the other participants of the tmnt fashion competition made was also absolutely amazing, that event was so fun!! Kat especially, she totally deserved that win her art was so good!

I've been a fan of the Empyrean Weeping AU by cupcakeslushie for a while now, but it's just been getting better and better, the recent comics for the AU have really been absolutely fantastic, I adore the art and story!!

I've been absolutely obsessed with The Canary Continuity fic series by qolden recently it's driving me insane. Donnie is one of my favorite characters ever which means that of course like any normal person I love seeing him suffer! :D I was actually a bit worried that the story was gonna be a bit too angsty for me when I read the tags, but turns out it was just the right amount angst for me, and also it's gonna get a happy ending which is great, so yeah I'm having an absolute blast reading it!

[idontcaboose]

Haunted Car Au part 13

Previous. Masterpost

“You done figuring out the sound files yet?” Duke asked while tapping on the hood of the Batmobile.

He was excited to hear a campy “Yes, Sir!” Come out of the open windows of the car.

“Neat, first off, any files that have your name in it?” He was a little disappointed, but still snorted to hear the tragic ‘Noooooo’ from Darth Vader.

“I think Red Robin has some pronoun type files in there, what are yours?” A mix of sir’s, dude's, and bro's were played until Duke had to stop the guy.

“Ok, what about age?” He wasn't expecting to get a straight answer, but when the car played a Scooby-Doo cut of ‘those meddling kids’, he was confused.

“So a kid?” Duke questioned. He got a weird mix of 'Ehhh', 'Kinda', and 'close enough' type files.

“We can worry about that later, any ideas how you got stuck?” A short ‘Nope’ with a pop on the P played.

Talking to the car guy was strange. Getting answers could be easy or turn into 20 questions trying to clarify an answer. So far, Duke knew the person:

is male or male presenting

a meta

has no clue how he possessed the car

has a good understanding of current memes

was possibly in their teens (probably a bit younger than Duke, but older than Daimian)

was a street kid? (When asked where he lived the car played “Why should I worry” from an older Disney movie about homeless animals in New York or something. He had to look it up.)

has a good sense of humor

and is taking their situation in stride.

Duke really had to wonder what their life has been where this is not a vast problem to fix…. And whether or not he should argue his ‘notification tone’ being a choir singing.

He really does not get paid enough for this, but it is better than the other stuff Gotham throws at the Bats.

“Mind if I get you up on the lift and check the engine? Might give us some clues.” After an affirmative from the car guy, Duke got to work.

Next

@kizzer55555 @sebas-nights @candeartist422 @trappednyourheart @fandom-life-corrupted-me @tkiesai @2lbballpeenhammer @admiralwidow @rewrittenwrongs @whotfevenknowsanymore @symmetricalastigmatism @thespacedragons @atinygracie @okami-love @lesbian-spider-drone @1n0sss @forgetmenot-bluepurple