#plus a break for the internal organs..

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

after a few months of having a adderall subscription i am now convinced it is a totally ineffective drug for helping ppl w adhd in any type of meaningful way *in the long term* , however. i believe its true medicinal properties can b unlocked by using it once or twice a week as a preventative measure against depression & associated lethargy

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover - A.H

a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever

might make this a mini series?

part two here!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3

wc: 3.8k

Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?

It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.

"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"

Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe. 

Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."

True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.

You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.

The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.

Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"

"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."

"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"

"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.

Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."

He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.

Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.

There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet. 

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly. 

You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.

His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment. 

"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?" 

You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.

"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"

"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."

Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.

A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.

The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.

Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door. 

A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought. 

Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.

With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside. 

His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.

It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.

The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.

Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.

He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.

He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet. 

A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.

He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content. 

As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it. 

"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."

In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.

"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."

"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.

Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."

With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.

"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"

"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"

"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."

"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office. 

In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough. 

You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.

Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.

With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest. 

The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl. 

Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.

Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch. 

He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.

The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.

"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."

Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?" 

In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away. 

As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."

The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"

Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."

You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."

Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.

Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.

[slugsby-pt3]

zero day headcannons

- andre is always bruised the fuck up from assholes at school because cal always has some smart shit to say and andre has to whiteknight him

- cal does not cut but andre….yall aren’t ready for that

- cal is depressed in the way that he is dissatisfied with the world and not the type where he feels the need to punish himself

- cal’s surprisingly a really good big brother and was really excited to get a baby brother

- andre and his older brother fight like dogs, andre has definitely chased his brother around the kitchen with a knife as siblings do

- andre isn’t a wall puncher because he’s so anal about his room looking a certain way so he goes down to his basement and breaks shit

- andre doesn’t listen to music, like he doesn’t have a favorite band at all. He listens to whatever’s on the radio that isn’t ear piercing and whatever cal listens to

- andre is a secret hopeless romantic, i.e keeping that note from a girl in eighth grade

- cal knows Rachel likes him and just see it as a non factory (plus a secret thing of liking how reactive andre gets where cal brings her up)

- andre unknowingly is in love with cal and just sees them as best friends that really care for each other (in a I just wanna kiss him in a bro way) and doesn’t understand his parents telling him they are “codependent”

- andre’s internalized homophobia is the reason him and cal died virgins

- even if they ended up realizing it, cal wouldn’t be able to get it up (hiii dylan)

- andre’s room is insanely tidy, like has the layout and an organizer so everything goes where it should

- cal’s room is dirty as all fuck, clean/dirty clothes on the floor, growing cultures in all the dirty moldy bowls on his bed side table and around his bed

- cal smells like applesauce and cheap weed

- andre is accidentally straightedge, not because he like believes in that ideology. He’s just very particular in the things he allows himself to do. (Plus cal got him high one time in tenth grade and andre hella greened out and it ruined it for him forever of it)

- people at school don’t know andre is jewish and just think he’s obsessed with German shit in a edgy nazi teenage boy way

- cal hates school functions, and even skips assemblies, but always comes to Andre’s cross country and track meets

- andre is very protective over mel and uses his money from his pizza job to buy her toys and clothes

- when andre and cal have sleepovers at Andre’s house, cal’s expected to adhere to mel having a specific spot on Andre’s bed since she was “here first”

- andre was known as the angry kid in elementary after throwing a printer towards a teacher in the second grade (giving Connor realness)

- andre has fun saying shit in French/german to confuse cal

- andre is that fucking irritating kid that plays devil advocate in history/government class

- andre took lineleader crazily serious in elementary school, fully letting that small sense of superiority completely control him

- he also took kahoot and dodgeball to the next level (andre was one of those shitty teenage boys that would throw it as hard as he could and then be a dick saying ‘I didn’t even throw it that hard’ as if he didn’t nearly pull a goddamn muscle doing that shit)

[thelibrarian1895]

Bruce is the restraining bolt

Let's say that Bruce "dies" again. Tim, of course, figures it's another temporary thing and bonus he doesn't need to risk another organ to prove it this time. That being said, Bruce isn't around to stop them now. Dick doesn't feel the need to be the dad this time since Bruce will be back. He's the big brother, the babysitter at best. Jason has never felt the need to step up into a parental role for any of his sibs before and he's not going to stop now. Cass won't kill, that is her line, beyond that, she's not anyone's parent either. Tim is one bad day away from being a supervillain, he seriously needs a vacation but at the same time he needs something that will keep him busy or he will get paranoid (thanks B for the trauma) and so he's not going to stop anyone, Duke doesn't have the experience to know when or if he should stop any of his sibs, steph and barbara are staying out of it as while they are family they consider themselves cousins at best no matter what B says, and no one is going to let Damian boss them around.

That being established, B is gone, Alfred is fretting but not inclined to stop anyone anyway, the kids decide that while the bat is away...

When Bruce returns, Alfred is just returning from a spa trip his beloved grandchildren insisted that he go on since he deserved a nice break and they even investigated to make sure the spa wasn't a scam or front! While Alfred was gone and Bruce was "dead", all Black Mask's warehouses had been mysteriously destroyed with large explosions that Bruce had previously forbidden because he was worried about collateral damage since some of those warehouses were sandwiched by other storage facilities and places where people squatted. (Steph and Jason, both very affronted because they are professionals B! And yes, there were also glitter bombs involved, it made the fire extra pretty with the different colors).

Furthermore, Lex Luthor is no longer the majority shareholder of his own company anymore, that would be Tim now, and all of Lex's employees are rejoicing since they're all getting a pay raise that brings them from the legal bare minimum to not just a living wage but twice that plus benefits even for those who aren't full timers (which is basically everyone, lex never wanted to get benefits for anyone). Lex is also being investigated for embezzling, money laundering, domestic and international terrorism, and the trafficking of minors (kon). Lex chose a very bad time to make Kon sad and Tim took that personally.

Bruce also discovered that Tim's childhood home, aka the drake's old place next door for the given value of next door, has been demolished and that whole area is now a botanical garden and registered wildlife sanctuary. (Damian with assistance and permission from Tim since technically the land was in Tim's name, Damian persuaded Poison Ivy to help while also monitoring to ensure she didn't slip in anything detrimental and also breaking up the exotic animal smuggling ring that B had been trying to keep from him to prevent this very thing. Tim, in the meantime, just happened to have a number of people on hand more than happy to work in a botanical garden/wildlife sanctuary and no, none of those people were ever formerly ninja who answered to Ra's before realizing that Red Robin was a far better employer, why would you ever think they were?)

And of course, the Joker is dead. None of his kids are fessing up to this. If pressed, they will cry, even Jason, and say that they thought Joker killed their dad and they wished it had been them because they missed him so much! (It was Dick and Barbara, Babs faked the paperwork for Dick to go in as an orderly, Dick, in disguise, gave the Joker altered medication via injection and made sure to get some air bubbles in for good measure, official COD was a totally natural brain aneurysm, so sad, no autopsy needed, burn the body)

Duke was a bit of a wild card and ended up hanging out with Selina, picking up a few extra skills, and using those skills to break into various mansions and apartments of the filthy rich to steal back stolen art and artifacts and return them to museums in their country of origin so they can be enjoyed by everyone (he watched indiana jones recently and the "it belongs in a museum" popped into his head a lot, he did wear a particular hat while he was committing his heists) It was nice potential step mother and step son bonding time

And finally, Cass causes Ra's Al Ghul to lose a particular appendage, one that the lazarus pit hasn't been able to grow back for him thanks to a little consultation with Constantine beforehand. She then went to hang out at Themyscira and got some very pretty bracelets.

Bruce is thinking very hard about just turning around. He takes a nap instead and then he lectures his beloved nutcases about personal safety, the law, respecting what is essentially dibs on certain super villains, and all the other boring stuff he's tried to impose on them over the years.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 27 - "I don't know if they will accept this."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Started writing this yesterday and finished it during lunch break today. So I decided to take a break tomorrow and post this early :D

Danny nervously poked his scrambled eggs as he sunk just a little lower in his chair. His eyes flicked back and forth between all of his new siblings that were currently in a heated discussion not noticing his slow withdrawal from the discussion and acting like he really didn't want to get noticed by them.

"Have you seen Mister Freeze's new sidekick? The white haired one that's probably a Meta with ice powers?"

"You mean Wraith?"

"Wait, I thought the kid was Ivy's sidekick? He helped blow up a facility last week!"

"No, no, no, no! Isn't he with Scarecrow?! I am sure he accidentally screwed up with the Fear Gas ten days ago so no one go harmed! But Scarecrow screamed at him that being new to the job wasn't an excuse."

"Didn't he help Catwoman steal two artifacts a couple days ago? One of them wasn't cat themed though I am pretty sure he was with her that time…"

"Wasn't he also the kid that was with Joker the last time he broke out? You know the white haired kid that was forced to assist him and tripped him right into his own trap and made the whole arrest a lot easier and quicker than usually?"

"It's like the kid switches who's sidekick he is every week…"

"Maybe he is interning with villains before breaking off to do his own thing? We better keep an eye on him."

Danny sank just a little bit lower in his chair and avoided looking at Alfred. Of course Danny knew about his new family's night time jobs, well day time in Duke's case, but when they had asked him if he wanted to take part in it he had declined. They didn't know about his second form, they only thought of him as a Meta with ghost powers that just escaped a horrible situation and now wanted a quiet and somewhat normal life. So they had accepted his decline in going into hero work, especially Alfred and Bruce appeared to be most relieved and happy about that decision at first.

But what Danny hadn't told them was that he might have declined going back into hero work, that didn't mean he would stay completely out of that side of his new family's life. The half ghost hadn't planned on it but it had all started with him accidentally coming across Poison Ivy. She reminded him of Sam in her values, so before his brain was able to catch up Danny asked if she wanted help blowing a facility that was pumping toxic waste into the water. Years of helping Sam with organizing activist protests did that to his brain.

One thing led to another and somehow Danny found himself more often than he liked in his phantom form acting as a sidekick or assistant to the rogues this family was fighting. In a way Danny felt like he was now more of an anti-hero than a hero, still fulfilling his obsession of protecting by finding creative ways to foil the rogues' plans if they get too dangerous or murderous but not really doing the whole righteous hero stick either.

Plus by working with Mister Freeze and Scarecrow at times he also gets to fully live out the mad scientist side of his brain. With them especially he gets to create whatever his weird wired brain could come up with, though, he did 'accidentally' leave behind USBs or papers with his inventions for Tim to find at the crime scenes.

What his new brother did with them was none of his business. If the Bats and Birds suddenly had new equipment in their arsenal that looked eerily similar to his inventions than that was that.

The problem was… his new family probably wouldn't like or accept that kind of turn of events. They were righteous and defenders of justice with moral codes and standards, Danny wasn't sure he could fulfill at the moment. Watching his new siblings arguing back and forth about Wraith, his new anti-hero alias Selina, Harley and Ivy had come up with, made his stomach sink every morning. In fact Danny was getting more and more scared with the passing days that his new family would kick him out the moment they learned about it just like his former parents had done.

He wished he had Jazz's contact to talk this over with her, but because of his situation Bruce found it better to wait a little longer before he could safely reach out to her. Maybe he could ask if Harley could talk with him instead.

A cup of tea was placed before him and Danny's head snapped up (when had he started to look down?) to find Alfred smiling calmly at him. "Master Daniel, I believe a nice cup of tea will help calm down your nerves."

"Thanks." Danny mumbled his hands cupping the cup and letting the warmth of it seep over his hands into his arms to comfort his nerves. He took a sip, eyes going wide for a moment before he looked over to Alfred who was currently taking away Tim's third cup of unfinished coffee while the other was distracted with the ongoing discussion. The old man gave him a knowing smile and Danny couldn't help the small grateful one that formed on its own, though he also couldn't help the slight feeling that Alfred knew what was frazzling Danny's nerves so much.

"Jason, maybe you can get into contact with Wraith?"

"Why the fuck should I?"

"You have a different reputation than us as Red Hood. He might be more willing to talk with you, to figure out his motives and such."

Danny choked on his tea, hurriedly placing the cup back on the table before pounding his own chest in a desperate attempt to get any tea that went down the airpipe out.

"Danny! Are you okay?" Dick was instantly on him, worried older brother vibes and all that.

He wheezed before breathing in relief once he stopped coughing, giving the oldest a barely hearable "I'm fine."

"<tt> Try not to die stupidly like this, Fenton." Damian clicked his tongue and Danny gave him a toothy grin.

"I am already half dead." He heard Jason snort. While the family thought Danny was just a Meta with ghost-like powers. Danny had explained his accident to them and how he died and revived with powers through it when they asked him why he was insisting through jokes that he was half dead. Jason and Dick were the only ones who really enjoyed his death related jokes and puns, the others were more worried about his mental state.

"Leave the death jokes to Todd, Fenton."

"Oh come on, don't ghost me like that! My jokes are just as much to die for then his are!"

"Fenton."

Danny just laughed, while the previous discussion made him fear for the future, he still loved the family he had gotten added into by sheer luck. He had come to quickly love them all and felt like his own weirdness fit perfectly into theirs. It truly made him hope that he could stay with them for a long time and maybe even add Jazz into the picture as well once his whole situation was more secured and Bruce would allow him to contact her and his friends.

Later that day Danny was in the library reading a book on Molecular Structure of the human biology and how it can mutate depending on external influence, as a preparation for his next endeavor as Wraith with Killer Croc, when he felt tapping on his shoulder.

Turning his head slightly Danny startled finding Cassandra in his personal space sitting next to him with a mirthful smile. She gave him a small wave as a greeting before sitting back a little, apparently satisfied with the fact that she sort of scared him there a little.

"Hey Cass." He smiled, putting one of the many bookmarks, Jason had distributed and stored away everywhere in an effort to stop his siblings from creating dog ears in books, on the page he was on before closing the book in his hands.

"You worry too much, relax." She signed with a reassuring smile once Danny had turned his full attention on her. Confused, the half ghost on the other hand tilted his head, puzzled about what Cass was going on about. He did feel rather relaxed right now.

"You being Wraith." Wide eyed Danny hurried to cover Cassandra's hands, like one would cover another's mouth if they blurred out a secret. His eyes hurriedly darted around in their surroundings but aside from the shelves filled with books Danny couldn't see nor sense anyone that might listen in on them.

Cass was shaking in silent laughter as Danny nervously turned back to look at her. "How…"

Slowly she freed her hands from his and patted them comfortingly before beginning to sign again, smiling knowingly. "I saw. Your body language is the same."

"I…" How was he going to explain this? He had gotten found out, was Cass going to tell him to leave now? Was this the end of his new found family life? It came sooner than he anticipated. Blankly he stared at his hands that uselessly lay in his lap on the book cover, one hand slowly moving to nervously trace unseen patterns on the books spine.

Danny did not see how Cass frowned at that action, all mirth gone from her smiles. She did not like her brother was drawing into himself, doubt and fear started to radiate from his body language and Cassander didn't like that even more. She moved a little closer, so that she would have an easier time to reach Danny and poked his cheek mercilessly until her little brother looked back up at her.

"No need to explain." She actually spoke instead of sign just to show Danny how serious she was. "It's fine. Funny even. Like Selina."

"But…" A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed, trying to find the right words. Cass waited patiently for him. "Mom and Dad… my former parents… they didn't accept me as a ghost hero…"

Cassandra nodded but didn't sign nor say anything, seeing that there was more her newest little brother wanted to say but still trying to find the right words for. It was something she could relate to. Unable to find the right words, hadn't she been through that before too. She lay a comforting hand down on Danny's shoulder, once more waiting patiently.

"I… I don't know if they will accept this… this turn of events. Especially in this family. You all are taking the Hero route and I…" Danny swallowed once more. "I can stop, I can change. I just don't… I don't want to lose another family…"

Before Danny knew what was happening he was enveloped in a warm hug, he blinked several times before realizing that Cass was hugging him tightly. He was held like this for a while before she drew back from him, poking him once more to make him look at her once more.

"No need. Don't stop." She spoke her voice, soft and smoothing while smiling at him brightly.

"But…" She shook her head, silencing whatever Danny wanted to say before giving him a mischievous smile, her hands letting go of his shoulder so sign her next words. "You are not hurting anyone, you keep them from killing, from being too dangerous to civilians, not really breaking any big laws. You help us in your own law breaking way. Like Jason does."

"I am not as good as him…" Danny mumbled still unsure but Cass only smiled fondly ruffling her little brother's hair.

"You started to smile more since you became Wraith." She flat out told him, causing Danny to look up at her stunned and she laughed silently. "Keep going. If you go too far, I will be there to pull you back."

"You're like Jazz…" Danny mumbled, finally with a little smile on his face and Cass returned it with a satisfying one of her own before pulling him in for another hug, he returned this time.

That night, Orphan watched happily how her little brother laughed carefree and freer than he had in a month sitting on Killer Croc shoulders, testing out his newest invention while the rogue was trying to get him off, unsuccessfully so far. Her other brothers surrounded the two and tried to figure out what was going on since Wraith was supposed to be their rogues gallery sidekick and not challenge them like that.

She laughed even when suddenly out of nowhere a USB-Stick hit Red Robin in the face. Obviously she had caught Wraith flinging it in his direction, but she was not about to tell them that. Orphan would let them figure that out on their own, meanwhile she was going to enjoy watching her newest little brother smile and laugh while being the chaos gremlin she had seen in him from day one as he was messing with the rogues as well as vigilantes / heroes of Gotham.

[daily-hyosatsu]

Something different today! The term 五臓六腑 [ごぞうろっぷ] comes from traditional Chinese medicine. Its literal meaning is the five viscera and the six internal organs—organs as a TCM concept; not analogous to the anatomical organs. But 五臓六腑 can also mean guts/innards more generally, or figuratively, what's inside your heart​. (Though in this case, it's just the name of a nice sushi place.)

Breaking the kanji down by theme:

五 means 5. It's read いつ, いつつ, or ゴ.

六 means 6. It's read む (e.g. む.つ, むっ.つ, むい), ロク, or リク.

臓 means entrails, viscera, or bowels. It's read はらわた or ゾウ.

腑 also means viscera or bowels. It's also read はらわた, or フ.

So let's take a closer look at 臓 and 腑. They both mean guts, they're both read はらわた, and they both use the radical meat-moon ⺼, plus (as you may have noticed if you're an absolute genius) another kanji that can mean storehouse. Yes!

蔵 means storehouse, or to possess, own, or hide. It’s read くら, おさ.める, かく.れる, ゾウ, or ソウ.

府 can mean storehouse, though it more often means urban prefecture or government office. It's read フ.

So, Flesh + Storehouse = Organs. Good mnemonic!

But is there a difference between 臓 and 腑? In modern Japanese, only 臓 is common, unless you're into traditional Chinese medicine. In that context, though, the difference is that 臟 zàng refers to "solid" organs, which are yin, while 腑 fǔ refers to "hollow" ones, which are yang. (Again, not organs in the anatomical sense; sometimes they're described instead as functional entities or systems.)

Anyway, I am going to try to end this post before I overstep my rudimentary understanding of this subject, but 五臓六腑 comes from the Chinese zàngfǔ (simplified: 脏腑; traditional: 臟腑). Zàngfǔ is the backbone of the TCM concept of how the body works. Its literal meaning is hollow and solid organs, or "all the organs."

And this kind of construction is common in kanji vocab: use two contrasting descriptors to refer to everything in a category or to position along a spectrum. For example:

男女 [だんじょ] (men + women) = all genders

老若 [ろうにゃく] (old + young) = all ages

大小 [だいしょう] (big + small) = size; all sizes

凸凹 [でこぼこ] (convex + concave) = bumpy

加減 [かげん] (increase + decrease) = adjust, moderate

苦楽 [くらく] (pleasure + pain) = the good and bad (of life)

高弱 [こうじゃく] (strong + weak) = level of strength

好き嫌い [すきぎらい] (like + dislike) = preferences (usu. food) and so on.

P.S. - Incidentally, はらわた is more commonly written 腸. This character also shares the same general entrails/viscera meaning, but often refers more specifically to bowels/intestines. (And fun fact: The name 牛腸 Gochō (cow + bowels) was the impetus for me starting this blog!)

[callioope]

The fire crackles in the hearth, just feet away from Essek and yet distant in his mind as he scans the papers splayed out across the coffee table. Somewhere in that background land, a spoon clinks against ceramic. The familiar scent of hot cocoa wafts in the air around him. Footsteps, both human and feline, pad across wooden floorboards and braided rugs. 

Essek shuffles the papers, brow furrowing and finger tapping his chin. “We’re missing something,” he murmurs. 

A mug settles before him in a small patch of bare coffee table, thudding softly against the wood, and the scent of chocolate wafts closer. He doesn’t reach for it yet, but the motion draws his attention towards the nearest papers and he pulls them closer, skimming once more the notes of the smartest mind he’s ever known besides his own. 

“Take a break,” Caleb says, near his ear. Essek wrinkles his nose as the breath tickles his ear, jingling his earrings. 

“We are this close—” Essek protests.

Caleb reaches for the quill from Essek’s fingers. “You haven’t written anything in twenty-seven minutes. Take a break.”

With a huff, Essek pulls his hand away before Caleb can steal the quill. “I am about to,” he protests, putting the quill to the last paper he’d been looking at. A small dot bleeds into a larger spot as he places the quill but doesn’t move it further. His mind stalls at Caleb’s proximity — yes, that’s the reason. Certainly not that he is stumped. No.

“Come, dear, before the cocoa is cold.”

Essek tuts. “Hardly a concern in this household.”

Caleb merely hums, and Essek hears him sip his own hot cocoa. “Mmm,” he adds, to which Essek snorts in response.

But five minutes later, the pages hold no answers — just endless runes, numbers, and letters, rambling musings that circle around the problem but don’t strike at the heart of it. Essek twitches his fingers in the start of somatics, but they fizzle without intent and without the finishing gestures. 

“It is practically easier than a cantrip,” he says, dropping his fist heavily against the table, which rattles the mug. One of the cats glares up at him from her spot by the fire place, her green eye resentful for the disturbance. 

“For you, maybe. We all have our special tricks.” He takes out a polished stone and sets it down on a pile of papers, just as the unnerved cat leaps up from her place on the floor and darts past, rustling the papers before Essek. “I can’t say I could distill this into a spell that any wizard could replicate. And other transmuters know this trick. The same cannot be said for yours.”

“Precisely the problem,” Essek says, resting his elbow on the coffee table and settling his chin into his palm. Entirely uncouth behavior, he thinks idly. Nothing he ever could have done in the parlor growing up. In fact he never used to noodle over problems like this — or use the word ‘noodle’. No, in the before times, the century plus that stretched out before he met the Nein, he properly pondered problems in his meticulous, organized lab. Oh great, now he was alliterating in his own internal monologue.

With a sigh, he sets down his quill and fingers the amber stone dangling from his right ear. “I invented the ability in the first place. I should know how to make it a spell.”

He stands suddenly enough that Caleb jerks in surprise. “Where are you going?” 

“To organize spell components,” he says, maybe a bit haughtily, gathering up the papers to take them to their shared office. He tuts as he enters it, for the first time noting how small the space is compared to the office in his towers, and this new one is shared by two. He knew some lower staff at the Bastion shared office space like this, but he never had. 

He putters around their filing drawers for components, reorganizes his desk while harboring restraint at the urge to organize Caleb’s, and debates the merits of a new cataloging system for the bookshelf.

He has no idea how much time has passed before Caleb tugs him back down to the ground from his float to reach the top shelf, where he was sure he’d stowed his original developmental notes on defying gravity. 

“Liebling,” Caleb pleads, again nuzzling Essek’s ear so that it twitches in response. “Your cocoa is getting cold.”

With a sigh, Essek relents, allowing Caleb to pull him back into the living room. This space is small, too, but that’s not usually the word he thinks when he settles into the threadbare sofa and drapes the quilt over his legs. Cozy is the right word, he reminds himself. And whenever the shared office feels claustrophobic, he must remember that the other mind that uses it frequently expands the ideas of his own. 

He rubs his face, only now noticing the ache in his eyes from reading too many words without blinking. Caleb settles in next to him on the sofa and elbows him to hand him the cocoa, reheated with a signature fire cantrip. 

Essek takes a sip, savors the richness of the cocoa, the steam that fills his head and spreads out to the tips of his ears, and the burn at the back of his throat.

“Oh!” he exclaims, the taste of the whiskey bringing him back to an entirely different time.

“Surprise,” Caleb says.

“This will not help me think,” Essek says, wrinkling his nose but then taking another sip. It reminds him of trust, and friendship, and reunions in a lonely, cold place. But also it reminds him of great feats of magic.

“We altered the fabric of time to rejuvenate our resources,” he says, practically whining. Compeletely unacceptable back home.  “Why can we not create a simple first level spell?”

“Do you ever find writing a one page essay more challenging than a ten page term paper?” Caleb asks, as if posing a philosophical question to his class. Essek huffs. “Well, my students complain of it often.”

“I am not so young and inexperienced as them,” Essek says. 

“And you do not have the deadlines they have, either,” Caleb retorts. “The problem will be there in the morning.”

Essek leans his head against the back of the sofa and stares up at the wooden rafters. “We are on the cusp of breakthrough,” he says. “Is that not what you said to me last week? Hmm?”

Caleb turns and rests his elbow on the back of the sofa, leaning sideways to look at Essek straight on, although Essek does not turn to meet his gaze. “I believe a wise old man talked some sense into me at the time.”

“Impertinent youth.”

With a chuckle, Caleb nudges Essek’s shoulder. “How is the cocoa?”

“Delicious, of course. Did you use Caduceus’ blend? It tastes like—Oh!”

The memories of Aeor jolt something in Essek’s brain, discoveries they had made in the depths there. He reaches for the quill, and his spellbook, and spare parchment, this time sweeping the quill across the paper in flurried strokes as his other hand flips through pages to find his notes from their travels. 

Caleb leans over to read his writing and point out a discrepancy in an equation jotted down too quickly. “I think, though, that you are on to something…” 

He stands and disappears into the office, bringing back several tomes brought back from the ruins. Essek quickly finishes the cocoa as they flip through pages and refine their notes until they coalesce more or less into something resembling a spell.

When several papers spill out onto the floor, Caleb says, “You know, next time I will just summon the tower, we’d have more space, maybe a chalkboard—”

“No,” Essek says, writing the last line of runes and setting down his quill. He stares at it for a moment, the piles of paper sprawled out across the coffee table, the cats curled up in front of the hearth, the mismatched furniture taking up most of the space in the room so that Essek and Caleb have to squeeze into narrow space between the couch and table. He breathes in the smell of cocoa and the hearth. He looks to the dark window where snow accumulates atop the green bean planters. He looks at Caleb’s shining blue eyes, the excitement of crafting a new spell bright with them. 

Essek reaches out to touch Caleb’s forearm. “I would love nothing more than to be here with you.”

With a wide grin, Caleb takes Essek’s face in his hands, and kisses him.

[arecaceae175]

For Want Of Rest: Ch. 4

FAN JOY JULY!

Fic Summary: Five times Sky falls asleep somewhere that isn’t a bed plus one time they all do. Or, Sky struggles to manage his disabilities, then the chain has a conversation about accessibility and accommodations.

Fan Joy July! Each chapter is inspired a few amazing art pieces of Sleepy Sky <3. There are plenty more chapters and art inspirations to come :D

Chapter Summary: Sky struggles to stay awake as the chain travels. 1.3k, angst and hurt/comfort. Also Legend decided to use she/her pronouns in this one, apparently. Good for her

Art pieces:

Sky snoozing by @narsh-poptarts Sky and Wars napping by @sraksha

My favorite thing about narsh-poptarts's art is how much the pose mimics the one in the game. Even later in life, blorbo is still the same eepy blorbo. I also think the pose is cool and it looks hard to draw!

Sraksha's art is always amazing. It's such a distinct, soft style that is perfect for two blorbos napping. I love how Warriors is smiling in the second panel. He is very proud of himself for helping his brother be comfy <3

Chapter warnings: could be read as dissociation, but is intended to be blorbo being soooo fucking tired. Also Sky continues to be an unreliable narrator with low self esteem and internalized ableism (directed towards himself, not others)

“You good, Sky?”

Sky held back a sigh and forced a small smile instead. Ever since they found him passed out beneath the tree, one of the other heroes was never far from Sky. He was glad he was used to living in close quarters on Skyloft and used to Groose’s anxious clinginess; some of the others surely would’ve snapped by now. Every time he felt frustration bubbling at his family’s overbearing concern, he had to remind himself that he was thankful they cared so much.

Legend was watching him with thinly veiled concern. Against his will, Sky’s eyes darted to the braces on Legend’s knees and the compression gloves on her hands. Sky felt the burn of shame. He could ignore the ache in his joints and the fatigue dragging him down. He didn’t want to be the one to slow down the group. 

“I can keep going,” Sky said. 

“Not what I asked.”

Sky felt the tips of his ears go pink. “I’m okay. Are you? Do you need a break?”

“If I need a break, I’ll ask for one,” Legend said pointedly, narrowing her eyes at Sky. 

Sky shrugged and turned away. A break would be nice, but he didn’t need one. The pain wasn’t unbearable yet, and he was still moving. As long as he wasn’t assigned to a watch shift tonight, and they made it to a place to stop early in the day tomorrow, it would be fine. He could handle it.

Legend’s stare weighed on Sky’s shoulder for another moment, before Sky heard her huff and stomp away. Disappointment twinged in Sky’s chest, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. His gaze went back to his feet and he tried to let himself zone out, just barely watching for hazards he could trip on. It was easier than focusing on the pain in his hips or knees or back or feet or head or the one weird, sharp twinge in his ankle— that was new, what was that about?

It must have worked, because next thing he knew, Four’s stopped feet appeared in his view. Sky barely scrambled to a stop before he ran into Four, and he still had to put a hand on Four’s shoulder to steady himself. He muttered an apology as he took a step back. Four smiled and waved it away. 

Sky glanced around. They were still in the woods— which did not make Sky want to cry, not at all. The path ahead was split into three forks. Wild, Time, and Twilight were crowded around a broken signpost trying to make sense of the directions. 

Pain slammed into him with full force. His legs were shaking minutely. Sky felt himself sway, and he desperately looked around for the nearest tree to discreetly lean against. Things always felt worse just standing. If they were going to be here for more than a few more seconds, Sky really needed to find a spot to rest. 

“Hey,” Legend said quietly. 

Sky looked at her in surprise. She inclined her head towards Sky’s left and raised her eyebrows. Sky followed her gaze and saw a tree stump partially hidden from Sky’s view. Sky felt himself sag with relief and immediately went for the stump. He collapsed on top of it with less grace than he would like to admit. Against his will, his eyes slid shut immediately. He crossed his arms and clenched his fists into the fabric of his sleeves as he breathed through the wave of pain in his hips and back with the new pressure. 

The voices of the others faded into background noise as Sky began slipping into a light doze. Sky could still hear the words, but he didn’t put much effort into processing them. Someone would get him when they needed to move again. 

A voice rose louder than the others. “Um, guys?” 

Sky startled, ever so slightly. Sky knew he should probably open his eyes to see what the problem was, but he couldn’t muster the energy. There was a span of silence.

“Is this a safe place to make camp?” 

“Fresh monster tracks.”

Another pause. The voices faded into a buzz. 

“Sky.”

Sky jolted, then winced as his back twinged. He rubbed his dry eyes. “Hm?”

Hyrule smiled apologetically and held out a hand. “We’re moving on.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Sky stifled a yawn as he took Hyrule’s offered hand and let the traveler pull him to his feet. “Thanks.”

Hyrule’s smile widened. “‘Course.”

As they started to walk again, Sky tried to focus on anything besides his body. He looked around the path and noticed a hero was missing.

“Where’s Twilight?” Sky asked. 

“Scouting ahead,” Hyrule said. His ears twitched, and wasn’t looking at Sky. If Sky had any energy, he would’ve pressed. His thoughts were too heavy for that, so Sky just hummed a reply. 

An amount of time passed. Sky didn’t know how much. Staying upright and putting one foot in front of the other was taking all his concentration. An amount of time passed, and then Twilight was jogging down the path towards them. 

“There’s a cave close. A few monsters outside, but it don’t look too deep. We can clear it,” Twilight said. 

Sky frowned. His accent was thicker than usual. That usually meant he was tired, hurt, or stressed. 

“It’s a tight fit, though,” Twilight continued. 

“We’ll split up,” Time said. “Legend?”

Legend shook his head. “I’d rather keep moving.”

“I can stay,” Warriors said.

“Um.” Sky cleared his throat. His ears pinned themselves to his head as Sky grabbed his sailcloth to fiddle with it. “I don’t think I would be the most helpful right now.”

Warriors, with clear movements in Sky’s line of sight, patted Sky’s shoulder. “We’ll stay back.”

“I’ll stay, too. I’ve got a bit of a headache,” Four said, tapping his temple lightly with one finger. 

“Come on, then. It’s close,” Twilight said. 

“Stay safe,” Warriors called as the group left. 

Sky’s eyes burned, both with forming tears and the dryness of exhaustion. He hated feeling like he let the others down. He hated being too slow. 

Sky stepped far enough to be off the path and collapsed in a heap against a rock. He curled his sailcloth around himself and let his eyes slide shut, then let his head fall against the rock. His entire body throbbed. 

“Do you need anything for the headache?” Warriors asked. 

“No, it’s not bad. More pressure than pain, really. I’ll stand watch if you want to…” Four trailed off.

Sky’s neck protested the angle with sharp pains. He huffed a watery breath of frustration and dragged an arm up to rest between his head and the rock. 

Leaves crunched as footsteps approached. 

“Sky?” Warriors asked softly. His voice was closer than Sky expected. He dragged his eyes open and saw Warriors kneeling beside him. 

“Hm?”

“Do you want to lean on me? It’ll be more comfortable than the rock.”

Sky briefly considered protesting, but exhaustion and pain won over. He nodded wordlessly and pushed himself off the rock just a bit. Warriors smiled and settled against the rock just behind Sky with his head pillowed on his hands.

“Touch is okay?” Sky had to check.

Warriors smiled and nodded. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Here.”

Warriors gently guided Sky to lean back against his side. With the way he had his arms up, Sky’s head fit securely on his shoulder. Sky scooted until his back was fully supported and extended his sharply aching knee. He wanted to thank Warriors, but he couldn’t find the energy to open his mouth. 

Sky’s eyes slid shut as the aching in his body settled. He’d be sure to thank Warriors tomorrow.

Endnotes: By the way, in case any of the implied stuff wasn’t clear: when Legend left Sky, she went up to Time and Wild and said “Birdbrain needs a break. Don’t make it obvious.” And then when Sky’s on the stump, they’re trying to figure out if they can stop and rest because Sky is clearly having a horrible time. Wolfie is sent to scout for the nearest place to rest, even though they won’t make it to wherever they were going. And they split up on purpose so Sky doesn’t have to fight. There is plenty of room at the cave. Sky doesn’t know any of that though. Blorbos :)

[aspd-culture]

i been searching about ASPD and it seems i actually fit the criteria for it, but i am kinda confused, i dont know how to explain it but here are the symptoms i believe can have but i dont understand to be fully secure:

- "failure to conform social norms with respect to lawful behavior" i dont know if is something, but i do find social norms kinda meh and i dont fully understand it, i even believe that i can ignore a social norm because of this belief, but i dont get in trouble since i will find it more annoying to deal with it rather than "oh this is bad behavior"

- "deceitfullnes, repeated lying, conning others for own pleasure or personal profit" i dont wanna sound like an asshole really, but this happens to me, since before, i learned how to lie very well, i am often finding myself i lie so i can get what i want, but also i lie very much in general, and i believe is more about lying about myself so people can think i am a good person and get praised because of it, relating it more to NPD? is other PD i believe i had and in this case i fit almost all the criteria for it

- "Impulsivity and failure to plan ahead" This happens to me very often, but I don't understand, how is failure to plan ahead related to ASPD? like i mean, for me, i think is more related to how bad i am at organization, but also i am often doing very impulsive things, but i dont know i dont feel like in my case is related to ASPD

- "Irritabily and aggresiveness" this also happens to me, it was worse years before because i got into fights because of it, now i do still get irritable and there can be a point where i am aggressive but i don't get into fights anymore

- "Reckless disregard for safety of self and others" this one too, for me, i put myself in danger and i know is dangerous but i find myself doing it because of other reasons such as self harm and to get attention, but when is about the safety of others is often because i dont know, is not an excuse but seriously i dont know when i am pushing someone of their own safety, but also it can be in purpose but genuinely still don't understand the other person and my actions, maybe related to other things rather than ASPD

- "Lack of remorse, being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated or stolen from another" This one is something i always wanted to reject, but i just cant feel remorse of my own actions, when someone says i hurt them, often i dont understand their situation, is later when im like "oh fuck i did something bad" and i get guilty about it, but it disappears, maybe is again of possible NPD, for the lack of empathy and because when i hurt someone, i think more of how they will perceive me, dont want to rant about it but when it happens i tend to think more about myself and how others will never praise me again, i always try to think of the situation so i can feel bad about it but i really cant, and when i do is because i think about myself rather than others

So, is that, long text, if you dont wanna reply is fine, but i wanna understand better to properly know about ASPD, i relate a lot to pwASPD too. Something to note is that I am not an adult so it could be anything else.

So the first two sound very much like what the ASPD symptom is referring to there. As for the planning ahead one, that one relates to ASPD because, despite what media and such tries to say, one of the main pillars of ASPD is irresponsibility/poor planning/etc. The reason it doesn't sound like ASPD is just bc people harp on the violence and rule breaking symptoms bc they're scarier. Plus the prosocials don't like that they sound like assholes if they admit that we struggle with this disorder too - that it's worse for us than it is for them - and that we aren't some amazing masterminds who ruin lives and laugh. Most of the symptoms of ASPD can be entirely internal, in fact, and hurt no one else.

On top of this, with a disorder birthed from trauma as intense as ASPD is, you're likely not dealing with caregivers that taught you *how* to plan ahead - maybe just expected to do it without direction, maybe expected to learn by being punished when you failed, or maybe neglected so much that they didn't notice and/or care that you were failing to plan ahead. All of that can cause this problem. Kind of like the thing where people realize as adults that the reason they hate cleaning and can't seems to force themselves to do it regularly is because they were never actually taught how, planning ahead also is not an innate skill.

Lastly (outside of ADHD comorbidity which is very common), pwASPD live constantly in this state that the rug could be pulled from us at any second. Either that we may actually d*e from some perceived threat, or that we may have any plans we make taken from us. Instability in caregivers is one big thing that can cause ASPD, and that feeds into this. If you were constantly in a situation where any plan or routine you could rely on might be taken from you at any moment (or if you're just enduring so much abuse/other trauma that it's the only thing you know how to expect), then you won't leave survival mode long enough to make those plans so you never do.

In reference to disregard for the safety of others, not knowing when you're pushing people to/past their limits is very much part of what that means. Intentional or not, it's symptomatic of ASPD bc prosocials can usually tell when they're pushing ppl to those limits.

Everything I didn't comment on seems to also fit the criteria in my mind (of course going blindly off of your descriptions here) not warranting additional comment, and I didn't see a question to be answered in them.

Overall, yeah this sounds (in my completely non professional opinion bc I am not a professional and even if I was which I'm not I'm not *your* professional so I only know the snippet you've shared with me here) like it very much could be ASPD. While there is some very tricky overlap with NPD in ASPD, much of this sounds to me like it isn't heavily influenced by the NPD enough that I would say it's possible it's comorbid if you know you have NPD already. That's not something I can comment too heavily on as I'm not well researched into NPD.

Plain text below the cut:

So the first two sound very much like what the ASPD symptom is referring to there. As for the planning ahead one, that one relates to ASPD because, despite what media and such tries to say, one of the main pillars of ASPD is irresponsibility/poor planning/etc. The reason it doesn't sound like ASPD is just bc people harp on the violence and rule breaking symptoms bc they're scarier. Plus the prosocials don't like that they sound like assholes if they admit that we struggle with this disorder too - that it's worse for us than it is for them - and that we aren't some amazing masterminds who ruin lives and laugh. Most of the symptoms of ASPD can be entirely internal, in fact, and hurt no one else.

On top of this, with a disorder birthed from trauma as intense as ASPD is, you're likely not dealing with caregivers that taught you *how* to plan ahead - maybe just expected to do it without direction, maybe expected to learn by being punished when you failed, or maybe neglected so much that they didn't notice and/or care that you were failing to plan ahead. All of that can cause this problem. Kind of like the thing where people realize as adults that the reason they hate cleaning and can't seems to force themselves to do it regularly is because they were never actually taught how, planning ahead also is not an innate skill.

Lastly (outside of ADHD comorbidity which is very common), pwASPD live constantly in this state that the rug could be pulled from us at any second. Either that we may actually d*e from some perceived threat, or that we may have any plans we make taken from us. Instability in caregivers is one big thing that can cause ASPD, and that feeds into this. If you were constantly in a situation where any plan or routine you could rely on might be taken from you at any moment (or if you're just enduring so much abuse/other trauma that it's the only thing you know how to expect), then you won't leave survival mode long enough to make those plans so you never do.

In reference to disregard for the safety of others, not knowing when you're pushing people to/past their limits is very much part of what that means. Intentional or not, it's symptomatic of ASPD bc prosocials can usually tell when they're pushing ppl to those limits.

Everything I didn't comment on seems to also fit the criteria in my mind (of course going blindly off of your descriptions here) not warranting additional comment, and I didn't see a question to be answered in them.

Overall, yeah this sounds (in my completely non professional opinion bc I am not a professional and even if I was which I'm not I'm not *your* professional so I only know the snippet you've shared with me here) like it very much could be ASPD. While there is some very tricky overlap with NPD in ASPD, much of this sounds to me like it isn't heavily influenced by the NPD enough that I would say it's possible it's comorbid if you know you have NPD already. That's not something I can comment too heavily on as I'm not well researched into NPD.

[fyonahmacnally]

Hands On Experience (Kara's First Job)

Based on a tumblr post - read here.

It’s been a long week for all of them, even longer since they’ve all had a chance to unwind and relax in general, much less as a group. Between their regular jobs, their vigilante shifts, and just life in general, months have passed since their last girl’s night. Fortunately, tonight is the remedy to that problem. 

They’re all sitting around Lena’s living room, snacks, wine, and other spirits spread across the coffee table in front of them. Kelly, Alex, Nia, Sam, Andrea, Lena, and Kara are regaling each other with stories of their youth and the trouble they managed to get into. Hearing some of the stories from Andrea about a teenage Lena has everyone laughing and somewhat surprised. The normally straight-laced and stoic CEO was quite rebellious in her teen years. Who knew? Kara sure as hell didn’t. 

As the night continues, the alcohol flows freely and the conversations ebb and flow into different topics. Kara thinks they’ve finally ventured away from the stories of their younger years and she breathes a sigh of relief. She never really did anything rebellious, she has always been more of a good girl, a rule follower. She couldn’t really get into trouble while trying to hide her identity. The two weren’t compatible.

But…not many people know about her first job. The one she got right after graduating college to pay for her first apartment in National City. It’s not something she tells many people. Especially since it came about by accident. She’s not ashamed of it, she’s just not sure how people will react to it. The times it has come out in conversations, reactions have been mixed. Plus, she sighs internally, if Alex is around, she always pushes her to tell The Story™ about the break-in. It isn’t something she likes to share.

Again, not because she is ashamed, it’s just that the way she got the job comes up and okay, that part is embarrassing. People usually laugh, tease her about it. And okay, she can see how it might be objectively funny, but she just…whatever. She’s a grown ass woman now. 

Still, she doesn’t want to tell The Story™ in front of Sam, Andrea, and Lena. She already gets teased by Alex about it and she knows Sam and Andrea won’t let her live it down. And Lena, Rao. They’ve been dating for a few months now and have had sex so they’ve discussed things. Kara knows Lena was a little surprised when she brought so much knowledge to those conversations, but she’s never asked about it.

In fact, of all the people currently sitting in this room, Alex is the only one who knows The Story™. Maybe Kelly because they talk about everything, but yeah. It’s not a story anyone else in the room knows and Kara wants to keep it that way. She’s managed it for years, maybe her luck will continue.

Just as she begins to relax, thinking she has managed to dodge the story and keep her secret for another day, she hears her name. When she shakes herself from her inner dialogue, six pairs of eyes are on her. 

“What?” Kara asks, looking from face to face before her eyes land on her sister. Her shoulders sink. She knows that look, that’s The Story™ look. Fuck. She is not going to be able to escape it, but she has to try. “Did I miss something?” 

Alex grins, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “We were just talking about our first full-time jobs. Andrea was under the impression that working for CatCo is the only full-time job you’ve ever had.” She tilts her head and smirks at her now nervous sister. “I corrected her, but that story is so much better when it comes from you. Care to share, Kara?” 

She sighs and drops her chin to her chest, this isn’t what she had in mind when she requested a Girl’s Night with her friends. Not even close. To be fair, she’s a little shocked Alex hasn’t somehow forced this story out before now. She is also definitely not drunk enough for this conversation either, so she makes a decision.

Kara bolts up from her seat, glass in hand. “If I am telling The Story™ I need more alcohol.” She sends pleading eyes to her girlfriend before turning to make a quick exit to the kitchen, Lena following close behind.

“Hey.” Lena’s soft voice, full of concern, breaks the silence. She walks around the island to stand next to her unusually quiet girlfriend. “Are you okay, Darling? If you want me to kick everyone out for the evening, I will. I can have Frank take everyone home.” She smoothes the now prominent crinkle between the blonde’s eyes, waiting for a response.

“No, it’s fine. This was bound to come up in conversation eventually. Honestly, I just hoped it wouldn’t be tonight.” She lets out a long sigh before burying her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her comforting lavender scent.

Lena wraps her arms around her favorite person, placing a soft kiss to her temple before pulling her close. “You know, I always assumed CatCo was your first job too. We’ve never really talked about it.” She feels Kara pull away with a slight grimace on her face. Their eyes meet and Lena raises a brow at the Kryptonian.

Kara shrugs. “It’s what most people assume. I just don’t correct them.” She chuckles as she pulls the Aldebaran rum from the cabinet and pours a very full glass. Taking a big gulp, she winces at the slow burn moving down her throat. “I suppose I should get this over with, huh? Let everyone get their laughter and teasing quota in for the evening.”

Green eyes watch her curiously, taking in this peculiar behavior from the blonde. She’s seen Kara wary of things, but she’s not sure she’s ever seen her like this. It isn’t apprehension, it seems to be more like resignation, but she’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Kara, you don’t have to tell anyone anything. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can put a stop to it. Just say the word.” Lena says, a fiery determination on her face. 

A warm bubble of affection bursts in Kara’s chest before genuine laughter escapes her mouth. She smiles and kisses the dark-haired woman right on the enticing pout in front of her. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s an objectively funny story, just a little embarrassing. Besides, I’m also curious as to how you will react.” She waggles her brows and places one more soft kiss to Lena’s lips before dragging them both back to the rest of their friends.

The blonde takes a deep breath and reclaims her seat on the couch, Lena’s warm presence next to her and the warmth of the alien liquor in her system finally giving her the courage to expose her current biggest secret.

“My first job was at a sex shop called Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.” She pauses for what she knows will be gasps of disbelief, glancing around the room at the faces of some of her closest friends. True to her assumptions, most of the eyes staring back at her are wide and disbelieving. The only exceptions are Alex, Kelly, and surprisingly, Nia.

Nia tilts her head to the side and takes a sip of her drink before she leans forward, a knowing smile on her face. “Well, there are several things that make a lot more sense now.” The brunette giggles. “When I came to you about that article I wrote a couple of years ago about spicing up things in the bedroom, you knew way more than I expected you to. Now I know why!”

Kara sighs in exasperation. “I’m not nearly as innocent as everyone seems to think I am!” She scoffs, cutting her eyes at her sister in anticipation of what’s coming.

Alex lets out a really loud guffaw, her laughter jostling Kelly and making the rest of the group snap their eyes toward the redhead. “Oh Kara…my dear sweet sister. We all know you aren’t so innocent now, especially since dating Lena, I’m sure.” She smirks at the raven haired woman next to her, chuckling at the middle finger flipped in her direction. “But, please enlighten our friends on how you got that job.” She sips her scotch before leaning back into the cushion, snuggling into her wife’s side.

If looks could kill, Alex would be dead. She’s sure of it. The look she’s getting from Kara is filled with malice and daggers. She just smiles and winks at the blonde. Her mind is at peace, watching Lena absorb this story is worth every bit of ire from her sister. So, she relaxes and waits. Her part of the story will be here soon enough. 

After looking around the room at her friends one more time and get a reassuring squeeze from her girlfriend, Kara begins her tale:

“I was looking online for jobs. I had just graduated from NCU and gotten my first apartment. At that point, I was applying for almost anything because I just needed something to pay rent. I came across this ad for retail sales at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets and thought, why not? How hard can it be to sell toys and trinkets?”

She pauses her story to take a drink of liquid courage, noticing the half smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Shaking her head, she continues:

“A few days later, I got a call from the manager of the store to come in for an interview. The instructions were to go to the back door of the building so I didn’t know what kind of things were being sold until later. I genuinely thought it was toys and trinkets…you know, like a Schwartz toy store.”

The uproarious laughter at that statement yanked her out of her story and she covered her face with a grumble. Lifting her face, she glares at her sister before turning to the rest of the group. “Look, if you guys want the rest of the story, you’re going to have to stop interrupting me. This is serious!” She harumphs and crosses her arms, making the group laugh even harder.  She rolls her eyes and sits silently, waiting.

“Okay, okay. Settle down, let her finish.” Sam chimes in, wiping the tears of laughter from her face before settling back in next to Andrea. The couple share a soft smile before returning their attention to Kara.

“Are you sure you’re done?” She flicks her eyes between everyone before dropping them back onto her hands actively twisting in her lap. “Anyway, I went in for the interview…”

“I opened the back door and stepped inside to what seemed to be a storeroom. It looked pretty normal. Boxes, shelves, labels, nothing to indicate anything outside of the toy store I imagined. The manager, John, came out to greet me and took me into his office for the interview. 

Now, what happens next was a little odd to me at the time and looking back it was obvious, but I was 21 and still not used to Earth’s customs so I just rolled with it. John brought out this…apparatus that was a very lifelike replica of a bare bottom.”

Kara growls as another round of belly laughs interrupts her telling of The Story™. This time she doesn’t say anything. She sits, silently waiting for the laughter to subside. Once it is quiet again, she makes eye contact with each of them trying to convey her frustration.

“Alright. Let’s get ourselves together and listen.” Lena clears her throat, quickly wiping away her own tears of laughter before she continues. “Go ahead, Darling. Finish your story, we’ll do our best not to interrupt you again.” Green eyes glare at the rest of the group before gently squeezing Kara’s leg in encouragement.

She sighs, throws her head back and stares at the ceiling before finally continuing, hopefully finishing this time.

“John had me…spank the bare bottom several times. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for at first, but later he told me that I kept my composure better than anyone else before me. I realize now it was because people probably laugh their asses off. For me it was pretty confusing because I assumed it was for some lifelike doll…which, looking back, I suppose it was.”

She laughs at her younger self. In hindsight, this story is pretty damn funny. If it were one of her friends, she’d probably be laughing hysterically as well. This line of thought seems to release something inside her and she smiles. The rest of the story should be easy.

“At this point, I still didn’t realize that it was a sex shop. I hadn’t seen the store and nothing about the storeroom indicated otherwise. Granted, I should have realized that spanking a prosthetic ass was a dead giveaway, but I’m an alien for Rao’s sake. I’d never seen anything like that in my entire life!

So, you can imagine, on my first day when I walked into the store, I was shocked. It was wall-to-wall dicks, vibrators, and all sorts of contraptions I didn’t know existed. Most of the day was spent with some shade of rosy embarrassment from head to toe. As much as I wanted to turn tail and run right out of there, I needed the job so I stuck it out. I learned a lot about sex and people in those two years I worked there.”

She grins at her friends, pausing briefly to wink at Lena. “Now, the really crazy part of my time working there happens about six months before I started working at CatCo…” Kara briefly glances at Alex before continuing her story.

“It was a Friday morning. We didn’t typically open until noon because the weekends were our busiest days with the latest hours. By this time, I was the assistant manager at the store so it wasn’t uncommon for me to open the store or close up at night. John and I had become friends at this point too so work was actually a lot of fun. Anyway, he had to drive up to our distribution center to sort out a shipment that had gotten delayed and left me in charge. 

Since we opened at noon, I would usually get there around 10:45 to get things ready. However, on this particular day, one of our alarms was triggered. I got a call from the security company that an internal motion sensor was activated. It was shocking because we had very good security and had never had an issue. After telling them to call the police, I headed to the store.

Now, in order to understand the story, I need to tell you the layout of the store. Upstairs was where most of the really risque, more fetish and BDSM stuff was kept. No one was allowed up there without a member of the staff accompanying them. The bottom floor was where most customers stayed.

The layout of the first floor consisted of five zones. Imagine it from left to right. Zone 1 was all the porn DVD’s. Zone 2 was all of our lower end sex toys, all the more tame offerings in the lower price ranges. Zone 3 was the higher end sex toys and more…advanced offerings. It was where the realistic asses were kept.”

She smiles and looks around at her friends, once again winking at her girlfriend. They are all grinning and seem to be amused by her story. Taking a sip of her rum, she sits her glass down, presses a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek and keeps going.

“Zone 4 was the checkout where we spent most of our shift. And finally, Zone 5 was all the wearables - we called it the ‘lingerie, leather, and lace’ section. Each section had a camera directly focused on it as well as various other cameras throughout the store. There were motion sensors that were active when the store was armed and alarms on all the doors. Another bonus is that we weren’t far from one of the local police precincts.

To say that John and I were shocked about the break-in is an understatement. In the 18 months I had been there, we hadn’t had any issues and John said he’d never had any in the 3 years he’d been there before me. This thief was very savvy. They broke one of the windows on the lower level close to the lower end toys in Zone 2. For some reason, the alarms were only set to go off if the upper windows were breached and not these. 

When the thief got in, they pretty much had the run of the store as long as they stayed clear of the motion sensors. Based on what I saw when I got there to meet the cops, the thief was initially after the DVD’s. Unfortunately for them, we keep the discs in a locked cabinet behind the checkout so the cases on the display are all empty.”

Kara chuckles and glances over at Alex, both of them have an amused twinkle in their eyes. She smiles at her sister and proceeds.

“The crook was clever, they were wearing a full bodysuit to cover their face and all their skin so their identity was well masked. When we watched the security footage back, it was evident that when the thief couldn’t get the DVD’s they decided to randomly grab whatever they could. However, instead of going for the high end toys and wearables, the sports car equivalent of goods for sexual pleasure, they stuffed as many of the cheapest, flimsiest dildos, foulest bottles of lube, and random edible things into their backpack. They did all that without triggering any alarms too. It wasn’t until they were climbing out of the broken window that they nicked one of the motion sensors on some of the more expensive products and kicked off the alarms. 

Once that alarm was triggered, I got the phone call and dispatched the police. By the time I got to the store, the woman my sister was dating at the time, who was a detective at the precinct up the street, was there waiting for me. Maggie and I were working through what was taken and documenting all the goods stolen. I still laugh about how many times Maggie had to write the words dildo, edible underwear, and lube in that report. 

What I didn’t know at the time was Maggie texted Alex to let her know the store had been broken into and Alex was making her way there to check on me. Maggie and I had been there for about 30 minutes before we heard a commotion outside the door.” 

She grins widely and nods her head at Alex, giving her permission to take over the telling of the story.

“I love telling this part of the story.” Alex beams, placing her empty tumbler on the table in front of her and leaning forward on the couch. The redhead claps her hands together as she dives into her part of the story. 

“I parked at a restaurant a block or so away. We went there a lot so I knew the owner and I figured we could grab some lunch once everything was squared away. As I was walking toward the scene, I saw this guy running toward me like a madman. There are things flying out of his backpack and he seems like he’s running from something. I pause for a minute and step to the side, not wanting to get taken out by the guy. 

That’s when I realized he was leaving a trail of dildos, lube, and edible underwear in his wake. It was like a tsunami of cheap sex aids covering the sidewalk around us. I had already grabbed my badge so I just called out for him to stop and flashed it up at him. Within seconds, the guy was on his knees in front of me, his palms up and sobbing out ‘It was MeEeEnnE!!! I stole the diLDoS!!!’”

The entire room erupts into laughter. There isn’t a dry eye in the entire place. It’s how this story always ends…lots of laughter and disbelief. When it all eventually dies down, Kara notices that Lena has gotten very quiet and she has a contemplative look on her face. Her plump bottom lip is trapped between her pristine white teeth and there is a faraway look in her malachite eyes.

Nia is the first to speak, pulling them all out of their brief silence. “Okay, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us that you worked at a sex shop before, Kara. This is pertinent information that you’ve been holding back!” She scoffs at her friend. “Also, that was the dumbest thief I’ve ever heard of. He took all the cheapest shit you had instead of the good shit. And…there’s a 24 hour coffee shop right next door to Cherry Poppins! He could have stayed there until the coast was clear and made off with his stash. What. An. Idiot.”

“Seriously! That’s where Drea and I usually go after our Poppins shopping trips.” Sam chimes in, shaking her head in disbelief before catching what she just revealed. She quickly clears her throat and changes the subject. “You’ve been holding out, Kara. You could have given us recommendations! You probably know more about this stuff than Lena does.” She smirks at her friend before looking at Andrea with a wink.

Andrea grins. “Yeah, Lena has been our go-to all this time and you’re the actual hidden expert sitting right in front of us.” The brunette looks over to her childhood friend and laughs. She nudges Sam and whispers, “She’s having some thoughts right now, connecting some things.”

They both giggle and watch as Lena’s hand drifts up to her still captured bottom lip, brushing lightly back and forth against the soft skin. Her green eyes are still glassy and staring past the room currently occupied. Right as they are about to say something, Lena speaks.

“So, this whole time, you’ve been holding out on me?!” Lena’s voice comes out far more breathy and deeper than she wanted. Her eyes suddenly focus intently on Kara’s. “Wait! This makes so much more sense now. This is why you know so much about the…”

“NO!!!” Alex screeches. “Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence. Lena. Luthor.” She points a menacing finger in the direction of her friend, her sister’s girlfriend. 

The rest of the room laughs, but all of them notice the look of wanton desire on the CEO’s face, the way she is not so subtly devouring Kara with her eyes. It slowly becomes evident that they need to get out of this apartment before they see something they can’t ever forget. 

Lena slowly moves her gaze from Kara over to Alex before a devilish smirk plays across her lips. “Then I suggest you say your goodbyes, Agent Danvers.” She languidly licks her lips and lets her eyes track down Kara’s body again before looking back at the rest of their friends. “All of you should probably call it a night. I have some things to talk to my girlfriend about and we don’t need an audience.”

She pauses for a moment, quirks her brow, and looks directly into cerulean eyes with a smirk. “Unless you’re into that? Seems there’s quite a few things I don’t know about you…yet.”

“Yep, Yes! Okay.” Alex says, bolting up from the couch. “I think it’s definitely time to go.” She grabs Kelly’s hand to pull her off the couch and is quickly followed by Nia. The three of them grab their belongings and dash toward the door.

“Just leave everything, we will clean up tomorrow. Frank is waiting downstairs to see you home.” Lena smiles, her eyes drifting over to the remaining two people occupying the adjacent oversized chair. “That’s your queue to make your way down to the guest apartment. Don’t worry, the penthouse is sound proof so you won’t hear anything.” 

Andrea and Sam both laugh. Having known Lena the longest, they are familiar with her antics. They both roll their eyes as they stand and gather their things to head to the floor below and the apartment they are staying in while visiting National City. 

“I would say have fun tonight, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Sam winks, pulling her girlfriend toward the door. “We’ll see you guys for brunch tomorrow.”

As the door closes behind them, Lena turns and straddles Kara’s lap. As her lips hover just above the blonde’s, she rubs her nose against her girlfriends and takes a deep breath. “I think we have some things to discuss, Miss Danvers.” Kara grins and lifts them from the couch, drifting toward the bedroom. “You’ve certainly been holding out on me and surely you have things to show me.”

And that’s how Lena found out Kara once worked at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.

[mariipun]

Adventures of Wally & The Gang (plus their Caretaker)

Adventures of Wally and the Gang (plus their Caretaker)

Associates Meeting (one-shot)

Warnings: None. Just fluff and funsies honestly; silly antics some of the cast members get themselves into. By no means are my interpretations in relation to Clown’s work, and therefore, not canonically based. Consider this an introduction to the whimsical one-shots to come with our dear Caretaker and the gang.

Word Count: 1,970

Brief Description: Set in the modern world, the Welcome Home cast is alive and aware, living alongside humans. And you have been contracted to be their Caretaker. [you are referred to by the puppets as “Caretaker” or “Care” for short.]

Dedication: @nonomives @kandavers

 *blows kiss* Wanted to give you both this as my debut. 

[I am open to constructive criticism, feedback and ideas! Please inbox me if you have any! I’m a bit rusty with writing, so I appreciate any insight]

In a world much like the Muppets, puppets co-exist with humans. Although the colorful ensemble of characters from the beloved children’s TV show portrays themselves as sweet, educational, fun-loving personas-- when they aren’t on the air, they happen to get themselves into quite a lot of mischief. And you, the lucky individual that you are, have been contracted as their Caretaker to ensure these chaotic puppet actors stay on schedule and don’t put themselves in situations that could cause bad publicity.

You walked off set after speaking to one of the producers as the show had wrapped up earlier than expected. This made it easier to schedule the upcoming appointments you had meticulously organized around the otherwise busy puppet’s schedules. With clipboard in hand, you made your way over to the break area, where most of the cast members were chatting with stagehands, makeup artists, or lounging in their deck chairs.

“All right everyone!” You clapped your hands together to garner the attention of the cast, all eyes turning to you except for Barnaby standing over the spread table, hungrily grabbing at the box of doughnuts one of the interns had placed out. You deadpan at him before shouting his name, earning an audible hmph?! as the blue mass turned to look at you, a sprinkled doughnut hanging from his mouth, with two others in hand.

“Okaaaay—now that I have everyone’s attention, we have an early flight to catch tomorrow for our meeting with our studio associates, which will take place later in the afternoon once we’ve arrived.” You scan the break area to ensure they’re still listening, amused by Julie and Sally as they respond with shared squeals, already chatting about plans to sightsee the area and meet their adoring fans. Their bubbly response caused you to grin momentarily, before turning serious.

“That means! You all need to be awake, packed, and ready to go at 6 A.M. sharp.” You say sternly, now earning loud groans from a few of the puppets.

“Okay, okay.” You waved your hand dismissively to the choir of complaints. You didn’t know why they were complaining, considering they usually wake up this early in the morning to start the show. Rolling your eyes, you let out a breath, mentally preparing for whatever shenanigans these puppets will pull on you later. “You guys have the rest of the day to relax since it’s only 2 P.M. right now. Just remember, we need to stick to the schedule. I don’t want to have to explain myself to the Manager if things derail.”

With a resounding “All right” from everyone, you went your parting ways and continued to work out the schedule’s details. “Also! Julie, you better pack light! We are only staying for two days, so don’t bring your whole wardrobe with you—again…” You called after her, ignoring her refusal to do so.

[Next Day: 5:41 A.M.]

You grabbed your duffle bag, slinging it over your shoulder before grabbing the briefcase on your way out of your small apartment. Before descending the stairs of the apartment building, you turn back in to grab your coffee, yawning in the process. “Ugh, gonna be a long day.” You murmur to yourself, the lingering drowsiness from slumber not yet leaving your body. You check the time on your phone as you take a gentle sip. You only lived a 7-minute walk away from the set, which you were grateful for since (1) You didn’t own a car and (2) The Studio provided you with lodging once you agreed to be the cast’s Caretaker. The pay was all right considering the added bonuses of what the Studio provided for you, although, it’s probably due in part to the various applicants that had been hired and then immediately quit due to their lack of ability to actually wrangle the cast from committing any sort of war crimes. (Guess the Studio needed to give some sort of incentive for someone to fill the role). Taking on the task was daunting at first since you quickly learned how eager the members were to push boundaries. You didn’t necessarily blame them for being curious since there was still so much of the world they wanted to learn about. Of course, this made your job more difficult to handle at times.

[5:53 A.M.]

You walked through the studio’s hallways, quietly greeting good mornings to other studio employees as you passed. The meeting location for everyone was in room 2A, usually reserved for auditions, but opened for you to ensure everyone came on time. Arriving at the room, you saw that most of the members had already arrived. Poppy, sitting comically large on one of the chairs and leaning against the wall as she continued to sleep. Barnaby and Wally both lazily tapping on their phones; Frank and Eddie who were both reading; Howdy who had just strolled in with a loud yawn, and…. Julie and Sally? Who weren’t even here yet. Of course, knowing them Sally would come in ‘dramatically’ late, as per usual, and Julie would usually stroll along. You greet those who were already there good morning, earning a few mumbled good mornings in return and a quiet snore from Poppy. You leaned against the wall next to the entrance, taking out your schedule:

6 A.M. - morning roll call

6:10 A.M.- arrive to cars

6:30 A.M. - board private jet

8:30 A.M. (projected arrival time)

9:00 A.M. – early check-in

-

-

-

1:30 P.M. – production meeting

-

-

-

5:30 P.M. – dinner reservation (for self)

-

-

You nod, everything was still on track for the most part… Sally would soon come in beaming and entered the room with a loud, sing-songy “I’m here!”, followed by the same response as the heaving Julie dragged an absurdly stuffed suitcase in tow. The sudden intrusion caused Poppy to jolt awake, everyone else looking over as the pair came in. You glanced at the time, 6:12 A.M.

“You’re late…and I told you to pack light--” You comment, shaking your head gently as the two tried to begin explaining. Raising a hand to stop them, you turned to everyone with a small smile, went over the plans for travel, and ushered them all to the awaiting cars outside.

[8:32 A.M. Landing]

As the jet landed, everyone deplaned and entered the cars that would transport them to the hotel. Once you have all arrived at the hotel, you check everyone in, soon giving them each their own room keys on the same floor. You gave them all a nod of approval as you all entered the elevator and went up to the 14th floor. You all agreed to meet in the lobby after freshening up to discuss any further plans. As you waved to them, you entered your room and took in the welcoming atmosphere. Plush pillows, clean sheets, a stocked mini fridge, a desk, a great window view, and a bathroom full of high-quality amenities you would surely take back home. (No one’s going to miss a few small bottles of shampoo and conditioner anyway). You place your briefcase on the desk, plop the duffle bag on the chair, and throw yourself onto the inviting bed. With arms spread wide, you inhale sharply as you stretch, sighing in contentment for a moment. The temporary silence gave your much-needed overworked mind some peace, before going into the bathroom to get ready. You would soon greet everyone with a much chippier attitude as they had all been waiting for you in the lobby area. You took notice as more guests began to enter the hotel, some with young children excitedly pointing out Wally and the others, pleading to meet them as their tired parents tried to calm their resounding squeaks. It was times like these when you got a break, witnessing the excitement and wonder of fans felt endearing. You were with a group of celebrities after all. Trying to keep a low profile was, unfortunately, not an option in your field of work.

“So, what do you guys want to do?” Eddie inquires. Everyone began throwing out ideas, Julie insisting they go shopping; Frank, who commented on a museum exhibit; Sally wanting to check out the old (presumably haunted) theaters; Howdy and Poppy bouncing ideas about taking a tour downtown; and Barnaby mentioning an all-you-can-eat buffet. The overwhelming chatter droned out your thoughts as everyone turned to you, arguing that they “Should do this!”, “No, this—“, “Care, I want to—“. You tried hushing everyone as their voices became increasingly loud in volume, garnering more attention from the hotel guests as their rambunctious natures were disturbing the ease of the lobby.

“Hold on, hold on. We only really have three more hours before we go to the meeting, so we might not be able to do everything today—” You try to console everyone, your response not satisfying the puppets as they began bickering amongst themselves. You heard a few complaints that you were being too ‘strict’, too ‘uptight’, ‘just relax a bit will ya, we’ve got time’. You huff, knowing you needed them all together since they’d do ‘who knows what’ when apart from you. Maybe you should just ask to be promoted from Caretaker to Glorified Babysitter at this point, the title is more suitable. You attempted to hush them again, only to be met with more insistence that they do “this idea, or that”. You could barely put a word in as your eyes slowly fell on Wally, who in his usual laid-back manner, said nothing. Simply observing the conversations and locking eyes on you.

You could tell by his demeanor, mischievous grin on his face, he was brewing up a plan. Your eyes narrow, squinting at him as you both engaged in a stare-down. “Don’t—” You emphasized, everyone else taking notice and silently watching. “Wally. Do not—”

“Scatter.”

“I said-- Ah!--?!” Before you could protest, you were encased in oversized blue arms, Barnaby coming up to give you a hug from behind, his chuckles booming loudly in your ears. He picked you up slightly, your legs kicking as you tried yelling for them all to “Get back here!”. Both Sally and Julie bolted for the entrance, waving hello and goodbye to those they passed by; Howdy and Poppy scuttled away, continuing to chat; Frank and Eddie looked at each other before heading to the museum, as Wally sneakily exited stage left. You went limp in Barnaby’s arms, cheeks red with frustration as you slowly descended back onto your feet. He chuckled, patting your shoulder (insult to injury).

“You know kid, you should just take it easy. We finally have some downtime, just let ‘em go and have some fun. Same with you, see you in a bit.” He chimed, walking off to the hotel’s restaurant.

You stood there in defeat, running your hands up and down your face before pinching the bridge of your nose. As expected, it was gonna be a long day indeed.

[2:03 P.M. Associates Meeting]

“Shouldn’t they have been here already?”

“Yeah, I tried calling Care, but they hadn’t respo—”

You burst into the meeting room, hair disheveled, breathing heavy with Wally and Julie tucked under your arms while the rest of the members stood behind you with smiles and greetings. You stomped in, some of the associates just staring as you plopped the two in their seats as the others strolled in before settling down themselves. You said nothing, cheeks hot and nostrils flared before clearing your throat and smoothing your hair. You move off to the side, taking refuge in the seat placed against the wall. You finally slump, head tilted back and resting on the wall as the meeting began.

Yeah, you needed a promotion… and a raise.

[lordsammichsilas]

The Fallout show got me playing FO4 again. This time around I’m playing default Nate galacanting around with Buzz Lightyear Zaddy (aka Paladin Danse).

I’ve romanced him in the past with my female character and I always thought the lines where they flirt were a bit awkward. It’s really hard to pinpoint why, but it feels a lot more natural with a male character.

I think I support the headcanon that Danse is gay (plus him being closeted and maybe not even realizing it himself would just pair with canon perfectly). I also think he has a super avoidant attachment style.

I also might have to break down and write a fanfic because I’ve always really liked his character and I was so mad FO4 didn’t give him a full character arc. There’s so much to be said about the trauma of having your entire life fall apart and having to start over, but when you’ve spent over a decade of your life caught up in a fanatical organization that doesn’t let you fraternize with the locals (it comes on the loudspeaker often on the Prydwen) that could have been explored.

I think he deserved an arc where he comes to terms with that and begins the process of deradicalizing. I see him as somebody whose rhetoric is out of loyalty to a group he believed cared about him rather than his own hate. Not entirely, anyway.

He totally hate’s super mutants because of what they did to Cutler. That will probably be the one that won’t change much. Once he deals with his own internalized dislike of synths, I don’t see him having an issue with the Gen 3 ones, although he has a hard time bonding with them because coming out of the Brotherhood makes him feel alienated .

I actually don’t think he has much of a problem with ghouls and that’s totally the Brotherhood talking. There’s no personal beef with them like there is super mutants. Even his reactions in game when you have positive interactions with ghouls are inconsistent. Usually he dislikes it, but there are times where he seems fine with it (or at least doesn’t disapprove).

He doesn’t seem like someone who’s unreasonable or dogmatic in and of itself. In fact, it’s funny when you push back against something he says in the dialogue options just the tiniest bit and he’s like “you’re right, how could I have been so blind?” It just seems really funny to me that he would be that even keel and hold such a high rank in such a fanatical organization. It’s almost like he knows deep down a lot of it is bullshit, but lectures you about the rhetoric to convince himself more than anyone.

Looking past the bigoted rhetoric, his biggest character flaw is his loyalty because he clings to something that is demonstrably bad and puts blinders on in order to defend that thing because he is so loyal. He’s still responsible for unlearning that, but I think it also speaks to the predatory nature of the BoS that manipulates vulnerable people. His earliest memories (whether they’re real or not are irrelevant) are of him being an orphan picking scrap in the Capital Wasteland. Of course he’s going to join the Brotherhood of Steel.

Honestly, there’s a lot of parallels between him and Maximus in the show (Maximus is my favorite and must be protected). They were in extremely vulnerable positions in their lives and along comes this organization that gives them a sense of belonging. It’s the reason a lot of people join the military in the first place. It isn’t idealism, but instead pragmatism.

Tl;Dr Danse deserved better.

[armoredprincess]

I've Posted enough about this chart that it's time to reallty talk about my problems with it, as a regular in the art of hitting other people. My word is not final, but then this chart's no gospel either.

A lot of my issue with this chart is the dissonance between its intended audience and the people sharing it. Like, people I follow on here are leaving bruises much bigger than you'd get with Amazon riding crops. Things change if you scale up, though. An open slap is not the same as a knuckle. A lot of this is derived from my preference for fists, though I think it applies to any hard, inflexible implement, and also I'll take opportunities to talk about other tools.

Part by part, though: first, the back of the neck. Hitting someone here can cause permanent, disabling, even fatal spinal injuries. Boxers have all but died on TV due to "rabbit punches". Labeling the back of the neck as merely high risk is intolerably incompetent.

Wrists, elbows and knees suffer similar issues. Joints are full of small parts ready to move out of place. I would worry about a torn tendon as a result of hitting these from any conceivable angle.

Thighs are long pads of fat and muscle covering the strongest bone in the body. There is no reason why the inner thighs should be higher risk than the outer, unless you miss and whack their balls. Speaking of...

Genitals famously hurt. They can also take more damage than their pain threshold would suggest. That said, testicles are basically internal organs that happen to be on the outside. They have no bone or muscle protection. This is part of the reason why CBT is kind of its own set of practices, intertwined with but distinct from impact play, which brings me to the core of my issue: this chart is not in agreement with itself about acceptable range of force. If your idea of impact play is hitting someone with a hard implement, maybe stay away from genitals? And if your thing is genital torture, then this chart is all but useless to you.

Hands and feet are the same thing: a fairly consistent bone structure spindling out into delicate joints. I suspect the only reason hands are labeled safer than feet is because of optics and practice: it's more normal to slap the back of someone's hand, so we do it more, so it seems safer. Whether this means the central hands/feet are higher or lower risk is up to you. Consider that palms and soles are springy, padded and built to bear weight. I'd stay away from fingers and toes, and the Achilles tendon.

On the subject of consistency, the upper arm and forearm are very similar, except the upper arm has more fat and muscle. IMO you could label both safe. I don't know why the armpits are a no-go. Which brings me to the torso.

Breasts, like genitals, can take more punishment than their pain response suggests. Plus, it's as easy to break a rib as it is to like, puncture internal organs: not too easy, but possible. My problem here is the lack of granularity indicating what might make that happen, or how "safe" injuries in one place can be trouble elsewhere. You can flog someone all over the orange torso areas at low risk; a harder implement, not so. But then, the relatively harmless (assuming proper aftercare) cuts left by a torso whipping would be an ugly affair on the genitals.

You can have a lot more fun than this chart suggests if you look into your weapon of choice. Aside from the torso, the most representative issue here is the head. You can really forehand slap the shit out of someone ten times in a row and be fine. If you start adding knuckles in, you might be looking at cut cheeks, maybe concussions. Which might be your thing. Make it your thing knowingly. It's rarely about force, that's what the safeword is for: it's about what you're applying force with.

[schrijverr]

Do you have favorite 9-1-1 fanfics?

!!!!! an excuse to talk about my fave fic???? Of course! I read a lot of fics and I like a lot of them, but here I'm just gonna rant about my fave one :D

Eddie repeats his affirmations in the mirror every morning, while he shaves the stubble from his jaw. My name is Eddie Diaz. I am autistic. I am gay. I am a good dad and I am a good person. I deserve to be happy and I deserve to feel good. (It's taken him a long to be able to say it outside of his head. It's taken him an even longer time to say it and believe it.)

I am obsessed with this series, I've read it twice in its entirely and gone feral about it twice too (see my unhinged comments on every work lol), even though I'm usually not a re-reader ever.

It's just so so so so so good and I love it to bits. The little built up of Eddie's back story and childhood that is then pulled into the now, is top notch and I absolutely adore the healing arc and the growing into himself arc of this fic, it's just so delightful and healing.

Also, I love autistic Eddie, it feels so correct and this is the best autsitic Eddie I've seen. Like, he is just projection board shaped <3

Furthermore, I am absolutely in love with the way Eddie's trauma is built up here alongside his internalized homophobia, as well as the way it's slowly broken down as he tries to break free of it. It's just tasty delicious.

The Buddie is also amazing and I love Buck in this series as well as they Buckley-Diaz family and 118 firefam vibes. The way this series does interpersonal relationships is just amazing and the dynamics are top notch <3

Plus, this fic actually gives Helena and Ramon a proper fucked up parents trying to do better and failing sometimes arc. I have a deep hatred for the Diaz parents and I hate what season 6&7 did with them, trying to shittily redeem them and I don't trust season 8 and I won't until Chris is home. So, usually I dislike anyone trying to make them sympathetic, but this fic does it so welllllllll. I truly hope someone in the writer's room sees this, so they can do better, because, yeah, they cannot make up for what they did and they still have a lot to work through themselves, but if they want to have Eddie in their lives, if they want to have Chris, they need to work for it, which is great to see.

Okay, so that's me ranting about this fic about my favorite little guy (hi, yes, I am an Eddie girlie and I won't apologize, I love his messy ass <333). Do go check it out and give the author some love from me, because it's just amazing

[ganondoodle]

just to note this, as much as i love botw, i am not uncritical of it, like while i personally like the weapon breaking and rain mechanics everyone else seemed to hate i do agree that the bosses and dungeons were kinda repetetive and there could have been more bigger sidequests, some more diverse epic music tracks also wouldnt have hurt tho i fully disagree with anyone trying to claim it didnt HAVE music, im convinced those people played it with sound off bc wth (edit. plus the unfortunately still orientalist design of the gerudo plus that belly dancer outfit for link ... that thankfully got removed in totk as far as i know but the rest still stands)

personal criticism id have that i would have prefered zelda never gaining her sacred powers but instead finding a different way to fight back, bc her gaining them like that kinda made rhoams abuse .. right, like turns out to activate her powers you need to literall kill everyone she cares about (at least thats why i feel a bit meh about that), her maybe not being as sidelined like that (tho youd have to change alot for that .. which totk had the perfect chance to and then kinda did it again but worse lol) and the yiga clan being less of one little side mission

(also way too many people kept hating on botw for the same few reasons, often without giving it a chance, i think we all heard all the endless complaints about usually little things so i dont need to retread all of that)

alot of those little criticism things got adressed in totk, which i LIKED, but overall its so much less in harmony, this should have been a game about rebuilding and recovering about working together and then zelda gets immediately booted off and we get introduced to characters we never learn enough of to really care and yet they still take away the mystery botw had left us for the world to feel more alive, they ripped out parts that were so internally organically connected to the world and pretended they never mattered nor existed, characters act off and i cant help but feel like the main 'plot' is, as much as i hate to use that comparison, a badly written fanfiction ... it builds on nothing and just leaves you .. or me at least feeling empty, like i am playing through a mockery of the game i loved ... like all the fun i had thinking about the things in botw, the theories you could come up with was all wasted time

i honestly cant describe it better than totk, despite the little QoL changes, and the changes i DID like, it just feels ... empty? not in a literal way but more ... mentally? it feels so shallow? like at multiple points i felt like the game was actively mocking me, when i reached the shrine of life and was faced with barren walls and a puddle of water i felt betrayed for caring so much about what botw had done .. i felt like i could hear the game laughing while i stood there not knowing what to think of it, and while this was the time when i felt the most actually physically compeltely betrayed, that feeling of being mocked kept happening, i kept feeling like i was treated like a dumb player character that just eats up anything they say without thinking or remembering the title this was supposedly a sequel of, like i should play with the little toys of glueing things together and forget the world around me like a 5 year old

that may sound harsh but that is how i, personally, feel about it

[mamadoc]

The next chapter of my fanfic is posted.

If you were waiting for the happy, angst-free, fluffy village without roller coaster part of the story to arrive to start reading, it’s here! Only minor angst remains.

Angela, Tamara, and Genny conspire to bring Tim and Lucy back together.

Here’s a snippet to pique your interest.

“Bradford,” Tim said as a call interrupted the audiobook he was listening to on his commute home. He couldn’t see his phone to see the caller ID, so he just pressed the button on his steering wheel to answer the call blindly.

“Hey, stranger. It’s been too long,” came the voice over the car speakers.

“Lopez?” Tim confirmed, immediately recognizing his best friend’s voice, but a little bit confused as to why she was calling. “What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“You know. Same old shit. Just kicking ass, raising two kids, and trying not to kill my husband,” she rattled off.

Tim chuckled. Some things never change, he thought to himself as he shook his head. “What has Wesley done this time?”

“Well, he swears that he talked to me about this months ago, but I swear that I would have remembered this conversation if we had had it. So a couple nights ago, we were chatting about our plans for next month, and he asked me if I had taken the last two weeks of June off for our trip. I told him that we weren’t going anywhere for the last two weeks of June because that’s when Jack and Amelia are at their favorite summer camp. Then he told me that we had already signed them up for some international camp that Patrice paid for them to attend in Italy. After arguing about it for over an hour, apparently Wes and Patrice are taking the kids to Italy.”

“Wow. That sounds like quite the argument. Are you going to be able to join them at all?” he said with a low chuckle, envisioning the solid hour of yelling that would have shaken the walls of the Lopez-Evers house.

“I was able to swap shifts around to join them a little bit late. And, when Wesley explained the situation to his mom, she offered to buy me a first-class ticket if I would still join them. How could I saw no to that? I’ll be traveling to Italy by myself in first-class and can drink as much as I want without dealing with charging the kids iPads or settling arguments about who gets to sit by the window or lugging around two weeks’ worth of their crap. There’s no way I would say no to that. Plus, she rented this villa for us to stay at right next to a vineyard, and she won’t even be there most of the time because she’s meeting a friend to travel around Italy together. It’ll actually be a real vacation.”

“That sounds great, Ang. You deserve to have a break.” He wasn’t sure if she was just calling to vent or to share her luck at having a really nice vacation paid for by Patrice or if she had some other purpose in calling, so he just waited to see what she was going to say next.

“So now I only have a little problem left to resolve that I think you could help me with,” she said.

“How am I going to fix your vacation problems? I can’t exactly take your shifts or work overtime for you,” he said with an annoyed but curious tone to his voice.

Keep reading here.

I’d love to hear back from you.