#she threatened to staple him probably

[vastpotato]

How much you wanna bet that Tim used the joke that his name was Tim Soaker instead of Stoker, and he thought he was so clever for it

[rookiesbookies]

“so what if I sucked his dick. his knuckles were split and bloody from defending my safety and my honor what else was I supposed to do”

With my boys (141+Konig+Keegan)

Price

Price is not a man to bring violence into his domestic life. He just refuses to. He has the gun under the couch and the hand gun in his bedside table, and that’s all the violence at home he needs.

HOWEVER.

The night you both had gone on a nice date and decided to end the night at a pub he was just having a good time. He didn’t want to be bothered. He was having a nice time.

When he watched the guy come up behind the two of you slurring, he was already set on edge. When the man grabbed your ass? There was zero hesitation.

Punch landed square between the poor guys eyes, John took a long sip of his drink and left a $100 on the table to cover any problems and the two drinks you both had, before taking you by the hand and leaving.

The man had a thick skull and Price honestly just ignored the fact that he had clearly probably broken a bone in his hand because the head you were giving him made it all so worth it.

Soap

Surprisingly, it was not a random person he punched.

He and Gaz had gotten into a petty argument. It shouldn’t have started, really.

Apparently Gaz made some snarky comment about Soap’s girl. It was before Gaz and his girlfriend had started dating so he didn’t have a woman to put him in his place over the shitty comment.

Johnny, however, was happy to oblige.

It took both Ghost and Price to pull him off Gaz, who was luck Soap only got a few good hits in. Soap was sent home like a kid from school and John stapled a note to his shirt explaining what had happened.

What Captain John Price didn’t expect, however, was for you to reward this behavior.

Little kitten licks and fluttering kisses up and down his length, tell him how proud you were he defended you before giving him the sloppiest of his life.

He brain melted, Soap had half the mind to punch Gaz for it again next time he saw him just to see if she would reward him again.

Ghost

Oh, he had considered strangling your ex more than once. But he caught him at your doorstep when he had just gotten back from a mission.

He wasn’t Simon yet. He was still Ghost.

So when the fucker was banging on your door, he was happy he had insisted on getting you a better front door lock. He could see you running to your bedroom, probably to get the handgun he kept under the dresser.

He almost wanted to call you and tell you not to bother.

He tore the man away from the door and just went ham. It wasn’t until you returned and looked out the window to see what had happened that Simon held up the man bloody and bruised and passed out.

Simon shoved the dude in whatever car he came in before driving to the middle of nowhere and leaving an only mildly threatening note, before having you pick him up.

When you went from kissing the splits and blood from his knuckles ot undoing his belt, he was so grateful his old square body had a bench seat.

The death grip on the steering wheel was the only thing keeping him sane. Almost pulling over to cum in your mouth but he had pulled into yalls shared driveway before he even realized. He had probably been doing felony speeds.

He took off his mask for the first time since he got home and planted soft kisses on your face. He mumbled something about not needing to reward Ghost for his usual behaviors between pecks.

Konig

Being the big bad colonel’s sweet little wife had its perks. Walking around the base with no problems, getting to spend all day chilling in his lap, never having to be far from him.

The worst time of year was when Konig had to deal with new recruits, who were already older gentlemen but clearly weren’t raised right and who didn’t understand how things worked in his base.

So when one of the recruits was pushing you around, getting too close and touchy, Konig didn’t hesitate.

One big swing, but that wasn’t enough. Konig was going to make an example of him.

Drug him out to the front of the base and gathered all of the recruits and made a scene. He made an example.

Dude got pummeled by Konig.

You honestly didn’t need to give him head, the satisfaction of putting that man in the med bay was enough. But when the idea left your sweet lips he would never refuse.

His bloody knuckles lovingly rubbing your face and massaging your hair as you struggle to fit it in your mouth, giving him big doe eyes? Its his favorite.

Keegan

Also punched a teammate. You had been brought on base for a celebration, everyone was in all their formal uniforms and outfits.

He had stayed sober, unlike most of his teammates.

Most of them didn’t have any women of their own.

Keegan just found out why.

It was a random Sargent from a different group, clearly hadn’t let you get a word out and just kept talking. Too drunk to realize that if you were here you were probably a spouse.

Keegan just gave him a nice smack to the gut, which ended up making the guy projectile vomit in the middle of the festivity room.

Someone definitely over-served by this dude.

But the way you kissed away the littlest bits of blood from Keegan’s had since his dry knuckle had caught on one of the guys pins and tore open. Made his heart melt.

I guess it melted into his dick because he knew EXACTLY what was happening when you pulled him away and down an empty and dark hall.

Oh he loved the way your lips kissed around him, living lipstick in their wake, before leaving a nice colored ring of it around his shaft.

Oh he’d wear it too proudly. Makes jokes about never washing his dick again.

Gaz

You and Gaz were in a booth on a double date with Soap and his girl. Simple date, just chilling. Soap was making jokes about how Kyle totally had a glow up now that he’s met his girl and about how Kyle probably understands why Johnny punched him for the comment a couple months back. (See Soap’s for an explanation)

However, that story just reminded Gaz, and gave him a good idea.

He mumbled something about still needing to get back at Soap for it. Also mumbling about how his nose still isn't right and his jaw still pops

One swift punch, Kyle was back how he was sitting before like it never even happened.

However the head he got in the family bathroom for that punch being hot while Soap and his girl thought Kyle had an emergency bathroom trip while his girl was changing her pad was crazy.

He almost broke the changing table off the wall with how he was gripping it.

Truly life changing.

Almost hit Soap again when they got back to the table.

Masterlist is pinned on my account as always and requests are open.

[poppadom0912]

Dr Dean Reybold

Warnings: Cancer, chemotherapy, hospitals, evil doctors

Summary: Unfortunately for you, some cancers are genetic. Also unfortunately for you, some doctors don't have good intentions.

A/N: Based on Season 1, episode 5 of Chicago Med (Malignant) and Season 3, episode 10 of Chicago pd (Now I'm God).

So I had this idea towards the beginning of when I first started watching pd and I am not kidding when I say this has been sitting in my drafts for over two years now. I thought I'd finally get to finishing it after a really good day today since the fic I posted like 2 days ago wasn't that nice. Hope you enjoy!!

When your mother died from cancer, it took a toll on your entire family. Everyone was struggling to grieve and the emptiness she left behind was unsettling. Even now, the empty chair at the dining table looked so wrong.

So when you were diagnosed with ovarian cancer seven months ago, you felt extreme deja vu. Life was repeating itself again and nothing good was going to come out of it.

While at work, your patient got a little violent and when you woke up, your dad and Erin were at your bedside. They were in the middle of a case when Hank was suddenly called, being told by Sharon that you were hurt.

Luckily, several tests and scans later, you were perfectly fine, coming out with nothing but a concussion.

Alas, your body seemed to hate you because fast forward two months later and you found yourself in a private doctors office, the man confirming you had ovarian cancer.

Looking your dad in the eyes that night, mustering up everything in you to tell him you had the exact same thing that killed your mother; you could see the world fall apart in his eyes all over again.

From that day on, you did your chemotherapy while going to work. Being a psychiatrist, it didn't entail much physical work and your hours were decreased due to manage your treatment.

But the cancer got worse, that's what your doctor said at least. You probably would've gotten your treatment done at Med since they were renowned for their chemo regimens and it would've been more convenient.

But your doctor was the man that treated your mother. Seven months into your treatment and you found it a little difficult to leave.

*****

So, it was just another day at work.

You near threatened Doctor Charles to allow you to take his place as the psychiatrist for the ED and after lots and lots of convincing, he caved but with the conditions: you took regular breaks, everyone kept an eye on you, don't take such a big load, update him often and not to turn Sharon away when she to check on you.

There was a sudden influx of patients due to a fire and you were finally able to help after Maggie stopped being so annoying very, constantly hovering over you when she wasn't with a patient.

This wasn't anything abnormal - the injured people - but what was weird was the lingering members of firehouse 51 and the arrival of Jay.

In one of the spinning chairs, you pushed yourself over to the group of people huddled at the front desk, curious to what was up and needing to do something after sitting duck for half an hour now.

"Oooh, what's this?" You looked at the zip lock bag in wonder, only opening it when Jay gave you the okay, nodding his head with a smile at your presentable face.

The last time he saw you, you were a struggling mess at your dad's having come back from getting treatment.

After explaining briefly, you gladly opened the bag and scanned the items. While flicking through receipts, you could hear Erin stop in front of you, letting the three of you know it was looking like a suicide. Giving you and Erin some time, Jay and Kelly gave their goodbyes and went back to their respective jobs.

"You look much better." Erin looked you up and down, noticing that your skin was still quite pale, the bags under your eyes were still there even with the makeup and you were wearing your usual bandana, a staple since the hair loss started kicking in.

"Well thank you very much." You said truthfully despite some part of you believing that she was lying and you looked worse than you did the last time she visited you. "How are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Erin asked, smiling as she watched you skim over the few items she had no interest in. "I'm fine, everyone's fine. This seems pretty simple which is good, less work for us."

You hummed nonchalantly, her words going through one ear and out the other. "Do you mind if I give these to Dr Charles? I want to get his opinion real quick."

"Sure." Your sister in everything but blood shrugged her shoulders, seeing no harm in getting another opinion. "Just don't lose anything, yeah?"

"Ha ha, very funny." You said smiled sarcastically, rolling your eyes at her undertone as you rolled your chair away to find the head of psychiatry.

*****

It had been a few hours later. The fire incident from earlier was no longer at the forefront of your mind as you busied yourself with your actual patients. Doctor Charles was back in the ED and you had several meetings scheduled.

Signing off a treatment sheet for some new medications, the silence of the psychiatric ward was interrupted by heavy feet rushing towards you.

Looking up, your were caught off guard. You were not expecting to see your dad and Erin again till later in the evening for dinner.

And by the looks on their faces, this wasn't going to be a happy little visit.

In fact, your dad looked conflicted. A myriad of emotions painting his face, so many that you started to get scared. You hadn't seen him look like this since-

"Dr Dean Reybold. He's your doctor right?" Your dad asked, skipping past any pleasantries.

You felt time slowing, almost struggling to hear what he was asking.

You could only nod.

You felt like a child again being scolded watching how he reacted. It was like you had hurt him. Watching him try to compose himself made you want to be sick.

When your dad looked back at you, his eyes bright in unshed tears, you felt your heart stop.

*****

It was a lie.

All of it, everything. It had all been a lie.

It felt like going through the five stages of grief, grappling with the news and the reality of this situation.

You along with way too many women had been lied to and deceived. In your most vulnerable positions, you had all been manipulated just for his selfish, disgusting needs.

At your most emotional, he lied. He used your personal connections, your past with your mother. What a sick sick bastard.

Sitting on a bed at Med, Natalie showing you your test results, you didn't even have it in you anymore to cry. You were just so tired.

Going back home to your dad, you felt like a little girl again. You felt like that five-year-old who would lie about her nightmares just so she could sneak into her parents bed and sleep with them.

His arms opened up instantly and you didn't need anymore prompting. Dragging your feet towards the couch, you sat and folded yourself up, tucking your feet under yourself as you tried to hide and make yourself invisible in your fathers embrace.

Closing your eyes, you told him the news, the inevitable that you both had been dreading. Deep down, some sick part of you wished to have cancer just so that you could feel better, just to not feel like a victim who was a ploy for some psychopath.

His arm squeezed you as your voice became breathy, words shaking as all the emotions all came crashing down once again.

You had been crying way too much recently.

The plans for the future were still a little blurry and you weren't too sure how you were going to cope. Your body needed to heal and go back to being its usual healthy, as if you and so many other women hadn't had chemo and unnecessary radiation pumped into your body for no reason at all.

You had met all the women at the court hearing, seeing just how many women and families he had hurt just like yours.

And for once, being a psychiatrist didn't feel like the most important thing.

You were struggling to grapple with your emotions but the easiest part of it was being a helping hand to them. Perhaps it made you feel better to help the other women, trying to help them mentally when you can't physically.

And your dad and Erin were your biggest supporters like always.

This had brought back so many memories from the past that it was almost too painful to recollect, especially considering you were now at the forefront of the exact same event.

You weren't too sure what the healing and recovery process was going to look like - that's what scared you the most.

But the most reassuring part was that the sick 'doctor' wasn't going to do anymore harm and you had the best family supporting you every single step of the way.

[princessbrunette]

i'd just like to say a violent jayj threatening to rip someone's face off or anything of that sort would make me wet. thank u. - 🍓

⊹ . ⁺ 🍦🤍⋅˚₊𐙚

you knew the random ass kook at the beach bar was in trouble the second he’d started talking to you.

jj had stepped away for a moment, just a moment — to take a call from john b, always feeling the need to answer just incase the boy had gotten himself into another inescapable shenanigan that he needed jj to dig him out of. you were leaning your elbows against the bar under the warm outdoor lighting, skin balmy and glowy as you take your time reading the menu stapled to the counter top, wondering what cocktail you’d go for.

“you seem like a cosmo kind of girl.” the kook slides up beside you, blinding white teeth and a polo shirt — the kook side of the islands very own uniform. you chuckle politely, diverting your eyes back to the menu attempting to kindly show your disinterest.

“oh, maybe.” you shrug evasively — hoping he’d get the hint and wander off to bother someone else. he didn’t.

“wait no, let me guess. something stronger? on second glance you kind of strike me as a party girl.” the man grins and you have to hold back a sigh. you were always on the shyer side unlike your boyfriend, never having the nerve to tell people to cut it out or leave you alone the way he would. jj tried to teach you, put his hands on your shoulders, look you in the eyes and say ‘if anyone ever bothers you, you look ‘em in the face and tell them that your boyfriend stays strapped. alright?’ of course, that didn’t seem appropriate. or like a good idea in general.

“nope.” your lips press together with a smile that begged him to leave you be, head even swivelling around theatrically to look for jj who had wandered off to take the call somewhere more quiet, now nowhere to be seen.

“c’mon, you think i don’t know your type? you seem all cold now, but get a couple of drinks in you and you’re ready to go. here, lemme get it for you.” he pulls out his card and nudges right up next to you, a hand sliding over your lower back. you shudder, pulling away— trying hard to be stern despite your shyness.

“really, i’m okay.” you frown, heart thundering when his expression drops, irritation reaching his eyes. he goes to speak, but a familiar voice immediately spawns from behind you.

“yeah i think she said she was okay, so you can walk away now.” jj shrugs, giving this guy a chance. the kooks eyes, narrow in on the blonde and scoffs, unimpressed.

“and who the hell are you? her knight in shining armor?” he glares, the malicious grin on jj’s face not faltering. from knowing jj, you knew this grin in itself was a threat. the calm before the storm. you brace for the chaos, moving back behind your boyfriend.

“try boyfriend, and i’m actually doin’ you a solid here brother. i really suggest you just walk away, right now.”

“or what?” the kook challenges, and jj’s venomous grin melted into merely having his teeth grit, bared like a dog as his patience runs thin.

“or i’ll rip your fuckin’ face off for talking to my girl. walk,” he shoves him back by the chest. “away, dude.” and once again, the man stumbling a little as a few eyes draw to the scene. locking stares with the security guard, the kook decides it’s better off he doesn’t get his ass beat, or get kicked out of the beach bar — so he trips over, walking away.

“you’re a psycho, pogue.” he accuses as he disappears and jj shakes himself off, blowing out an exhale as he turns back to you, fixing his hat.

“thats what i thought.” he rolls his shoulders before attending to you. “hey, i— i know you wanted just a chill night. i probably shouldn’t have caused a scene, just didn’t want him disrespecting my girl, you know?” his face falls, misreading the dazed expression on your face.

you glance around, looking for any remaining eyes on you and you move closer, whispering to him pathetically.

“i’m wet.” it comes out so quiet, he thinks he’s making it up.

“you’re — what now?” his head bobs forward in disbelief, eyes wide.

“i’m wet, jayj. take me home?” you mewl and he blinks a couple of times.

“from… that? me like… defending your honour n’shit?”

“yeah.” you giggle and a slow grin fades onto his once angry expression.

“oh you’re crazy. you’re my kind of crazy though — let’s go.” he grabs your hand, leading you briskly away.

⊹ . ⁺ 🍦🤍⋅˚₊𐙚

[bi-ss]

~ Ties that bind ~

Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.

Warnings - non, I don't think..

(This is a little bit of part 1, so I made write more I may not, we'll see. I'm also going to give the reader and her parents a positive relationship. idk I think it suits the best

You always knew you were to be married off. Your mother was always transparent with you about that. She always told you that you may not like the man or woman, but love was always hard to find anyway. So one day, when you were 16, you typed up an agreement and gave it to your father about if you were married off, what you wanted, you do have your mother's stubbornness after all.

*knock knock*

"Come in," hearing your father grumble, you push the dark wooden doors which you are a lot heavier than your dad and his men made it seem. You stand in the doorway for a second before your dad gets up from behind his desk. He slowly walked round, motioning for you to come in and close the door. He pulled a comfy seat out a bit before sitting on his desk. You sat out looking up at him, handing him the typed papers in your hands. He looked at the title and gave it back to you.

"Read it to me, Ladybug." You smiled at the nickname he used and has used since you were a baby. "I see your mother as prepared you for this, and I see you listened for once," he joked, knowing you never liked working or school for that matter.

"I don't want to be a housewife, can't think of anything worse," you scoffed at your remark while your dad just laughed, still smiling down at you. "But I would prefer if you read it then get back to me as I told mother I'd help her cook.. it's burrito night!" He slowly nodded at you. Reading aloud wasn't something you liked doing. Taking the papers stapled together, you got up and started walking towards the doors, dreading the embarrassment of trying to open them again, but you didn't have to. Your dad was right behind you, holding it for you like you didn't just use all the strength to pry it just a little.

That's how you life's always been, your mother, a housewife. Your mother was the most beautiful and mature woman to probably ever exist, her long vibrant curly ginger hair, her pale soft skin loaded with freckle, her forest green eyes complemented everything about her even those rosy cheeks and lips. She adored your father as much or even more as he adored her. They do say opposites attract, fitting for your parents as your father, the breadwinner. Your father was a handsome and smart man, with dark chocolate hair which your mother loved putting into pigtails, his skin is covered with tattoos front to back, up and down, his toned and tan skin barely visible, his one good eye a smokie light grey colour, is other eye was sew shut while being littered with scars. Your dad has become more careful and gentle when your mother is pregnant. It wasn't hard to see that his men liked this change to, according to your mother. An example is when the twins joined, Wanda and Pietro maximoff joined, and they were put through uni with help from the family in case they wanted an out, making sure they had a choice. They stayed by the family's side.

Now, 6 years later, you're sitting in your fathers office it hasn't changed a bit, you can't say the same about them, he was sitting on the worn-out leather chair with your mother behind him, their hair turning grey and with smile line proudly on display. You sitting at the side of the desk, not next to your dad and not next to Mrs and Mr Barnes, with their irritated son, James Barnes. The meeting was already off to a bad start when his girlfriend Sharon demanding to attend, but met with your dad saying he didn't have business with her and if that's know they did things, he'll call it off. You listened in on the conversation when your dad wasn't there, and to sum it up, Mr Barnes threatened, saying he'll disown his son and give it all to Rebecca. She's now at the bottom of the stairs being watched secretly by maids, workers, and guards. The elderly guest were very shocked at the fact they didn't even know you were there when they were giving the to toddler a reality check, which made both your parents proud and all 4 laugh about it. Before the definition of cantankerous, egocentric, and many more adjectives, you couldn't ever walk in.

. . . . .To be continued. . . .

[aylish91]

Could I ask for a Leviathantale Nightmare x Skeleton Cecaelia reader? Can you base it off this picture:

Or even the one you reposted from me? You don't have to if you don't want to.

(by the way, the picture attached here is based off of cats cleaning each other with their tongues. Though it might be kinda cute as an idea.)

Hello, hello Fluffy! I loved your art! Thanks again for letting me know about and see them! I enjoyed the conversations too. I hope this meets your standards my friend!

~ ~ ~

Grooming Bonds

You picked at the exposed joints in your hands, doing your best to get the leftover fish slime and sand out of the exposed magic. There had been a particularly fruitful hunt earlier in the evening and everyone had slowly dispersed into their respective piles to preen now that the meal was over.

Having dragged Dust back into the main nest, Axe held him down while he meticulously picked at the vertebrae of the smaller mer’s back. It had taken a bit of finagling, but Axe had managed to get Dust’s staple hoodie and scarf carefully placed to the side for the rare show of bones. Dream and Cross weren’t far from the pair, helping groom each other while Killer teasingly flicked sand at them with his tail from his position on “the rock”. Understandably, while Dream reverted to stifled giggles, Cross swiped at said tail and threatened to attack if Killer didn’t stop.

In all, after such an eventful day, it was a typical relaxing evening.

However, you had yet to join any piles, not knowing where or who to insert yourself with. Axe would have made a good choice had he not been so focused on a squirming Dust. Dream probably wouldn’t have minded an extra companion, but Cross had asked him first. Killer and Dust… You weren’t sure if either of them would have taken you seriously.

So there you were. With the group but somehow still the odd one out. It was fine. You always had tomorrow to try again…

Or so you thought.

Watching from his perch on the ship, Nightmare suddenly swooped down to sneakily grab you from behind, placing himself close enough to the nest that his tentacles could idly circle the shiver while still giving them space. You were placed in the equivalent of a lap amongst his tentacles.

“It isn’t well that you still sit alone, little fish. These little moments are times of bonding. No one should be alone during such opportunities.”

There were a few chuckles from the others as you squeaked and tried to twist in his grasp, heat blossoming on your cheeks. “It’s okay! You don’t— I can do it myself. The others already had partners anyway.”

Nightmare didn’t take any head, humming knowingly before delicately looking over your vertebrae in a similar fashion Axe was. It was Dream that sympathetically called to you.

“You don’t have to be shy, even if there are already pairs. There is always room for one more. It is more important to have these kinds of bonding moments.”

Killer grinned, peppering Cross with an especially harsh sand cloud. “Lucky. I bet she just didn’t want to get near Criss Crossies stink ~ ”

“Hey!” It was hard not to laugh along with everyone when Cross finally did tackle Killer, their tails and limbs tumbling out of the nest to kick up stray seaweed and kelp. Nightmare only sighed and sunk lower into his mass.

“Pay them no mind. Although inconvenient, play can also be a form of bonding.”

You had to hide the blooming smile behind a bony hand, watching Dream move on to comb over Axe as he worked.

It was nice. In a way, their nonchalance about the whole thing helped ease your tense nerves. Even with the two wrestling mer, you found that you felt comfortable enough to continue cleaning your hands and arms. It did little to take your mind off the relaxing way Nightmares claws passed over you, but it gave you something to occupy you. It wasn’t until you were shifted against the leviathan’s large chest that you stopped what you were doing to look up.

You weren’t expecting the large glowing tongue that came next. For as long as you had been with the shiver, you had never seen Nightmare lick anyone when grooming. The boys did it all the time. Even Dream on occasion, but Nightmare had kept to himself or only helped with joints and recesses.

The sensation made you squeak and giggle, each new pass filling you with warmth as you closed your eyes. Then, to add to your surprise, a low purr began to vibrate against you and the water.

If you hadn’t been content before, you most certainly were now. Something about sharing this moment with the dark guardian made everything else seem trivial. You didn’t need to worry about your place if he was willing to be this close with you. You were allowed to be here. You were accepted and nothing else mattered.

He was kind, and you belonged.

“Better?”

Your tentacles curled and unfurled in embarrassment as you gave him a sly smile. You blamed your rising courage on the guardian.

“Yes. But, I should be returning the favor.”

Floating up, you licked his forehead before slipping down to cling and pick through the vertebrae closest to his shoulders and spine. It made a lovely glow brighten his face with that low purr flaring up again.

“O-of course. If you wish, little fish.”

The rest of the boys were awfully giggly the rest of the evening. But you could hardly complain.

Leviathan Master List Grand Master Post

[elleafun]

I started this before watching Act 3, so no bob for Sevika.

Sevika would wreck Big Mama, change my mind.

After this mini comic is a vent about all that's gone down recently that I mentioned in previous posts, so just look at my silly picture if you're not interested.

I was going to try fancy coloring this, but I'm tired.

Warning: The following vent includes pet injury, death, drug use, and probably other things I'm not thinking of because I'm quite spent.

I'll start off by saying my half-uncle was not a good person. He was a violent alcoholic junkie who stole and threatened my grandma while leaching off of her for 50+ years when she survives solely on social security. So, when I heard he died a month ago, I was honestly relieved. Nobody felt they could visit my grandma, because he would be there. I do feel bad for my grandma, she loved him no matter what. (Taking a quick moment to mention that I do not believe you have to love family just because you're related. See my half-uncle as an example as to why.) Anyway, it was rough on her and I did what I do best to show I care and started fixing things around her house. (More Elle lore: I'm bad at comforting emotionally. I show care with gifts and by fixing/taking care of things.) As someone who is very much into their routine, though I love my grandma, this did put a little extra stress on me mentally, as I got way less quiet time. Her other son, who is back in prison atm, became a hoarder and stuffed her house full of stuff. She also contributed, so I've spent some time decluttering her house.

Two Fridays ago, I spent about 5 hours trying to set up my grandma's new internet. I'm not sure what was happening that day, but it was issue after issue. I ended up chatting with 3 different agents and she still did not have internet access by the time I gave up. This incident wasn't that big of a deal, but it sucked that something that should have taken an hour at most took most of my day.

7:30 AM the following morning, I got a call that my grandma's dogs were being attacked by her neighbor's dog. Her dogs were a tiny chihuahua and pomeranian. The chihuahua was dead by the time I arrived and the pomeranian severely injured. After attempting to chase the attacking dog off, I gave up and went inside to check on the pom my grandma had managed to drag inside. My mother arrived soon after, so I rushed Mags to the emergency vet while mom waited for the cops. The poor dog scared me a few times as I sped to the e-vet, closing her eyes and sitting very still only to shift and whine moments later.

Mags was admitted immediately and carefully shaved to see the extent of her injuries. I haven't counted her stitches or staples, but there are many plus two drainage tubes. She stayed the weekend at the emergency vet, but was still in intense pain and not eating. I ended up having to transfer her from the emergency vet to her primary vet before and after work, so she could get continuous care. She became stable enough to stay at her primary vet overnight, but we were very concerned not only about the tears, deep bruising and reluctance to eat, but that she did not want to walk on her hind legs. She'd use her front legs to scoot forward and readjust, but didn't want to lift her hind quarters. We were worried about spinal or nerve damage.

After her swelling went down, we were able to do more x-rays and determined both of her hips had been ripped out of place. A femoral head ostectomy (FHO) on both hips was concluded as being the best option to fix her. I ended up transferring Mags last Friday night over an hour away to an emergency clinic that is paired with a specialist able to fix her hips. The specialist took her on Monday and her FHO surgery was successfully completed on Tuesday. Over 320 miles and nearly $12k later (thank everything the attacking dog's owners' insurance will cover this), I was able to take her to my house this morning. I've got 4 alarms set to remember her meds, must clean her tubes 3 times a day, help her eat, and do physical therapy with her several times a day in the hopes we can get her walking again in 6 or so weeks. I've only had her since 10 this morning, but I've already gotten her to attempt walking forward with support. Mags is still in pain, but less so than before her surgery and she's eating on her own!

Though it's fantastic that Mags appears to finally be on her way to recovery, my great uncle passed away two days ago. He was the same grandma's older brother. I'll be attending his viewing tomorrow morning and his funeral on Saturday. He was a good man, and it is a shame I didn't get to see him this year.

It feels wrong to complain. My grandma has had it much rougher since she's closer to the events than me. I'm still angry and tired though. It's exausting having one thing after another pile up.

Anyway, thanks for reading if you did. Hope I didn't bum anyone out.

[goawaypopup]

Continuing on the subject of memory loss in Deltora, allow me to speculate much further off the rails.

Memory magic and especially amnesia are practically staples of the Roddaverse. The Zebak (from the Rowan of Rin books), seem to legitimately have no prior connection to Deltora or the Shadow Lord, and they've pretty much mastered it, brainwashing people to be spy-movie-style activateable secret agents and inducing total amnesia in an entire cultural group.

And we have two important and relevant examples of total amnesia from the other series as well, that I'd like to examine here: Doom, and Rye (The Three Doors).

You're probably quite familiar with Doom's case (unless you're someone who hasn't read the books at all, in which case I'm shocked you can understand any of this nonsense.) His wife was killed, and he was injured, fighting in the Shadow Arena. He escaped and adopted a new persona, his only memories beginning at some point after his injury. His memory was eventually restored when he dramatically fell down some stairs and hit his head at a convenient moment.

Rye interceded when a transformed Shadow Lord minion was about to attack a child:

He felt a great thud as the monster collided with him. He was blinded by a flash of white light... Then his head struck the ground, and there was only darkness.

...and wakes up with no memories of his identity or past.

Hey, you notice how whatever it was seemed to happen BEFORE his head hit the ground?

The rest of what happens to him is downright suspiciously similar to Doom. He keeps his skills and basic knowledge of the world. His memories immediately start to come back after he gets hit in the head.

What's more, the people he stays with in Dorne seem like they might have seen this before:

...'So what is your name? Can you tell me?' She put her head on one side, and waited. He thought. Nothing came to him. 'No,' he said bleakly. ... 'Never mind,' she said comfortably. 'It'll all come back to you soon enough, and in the meantime you can be Keelin.'

'At last your memory will return, Keelin, I an sure of it,' Janna said gently. 'It is best you do not strain yourself to remember.' 'Sometimes another shock or blow will do it,' said Petronelle, returning to Keelin's side.

And additionally, there have been other attacks by "creatures of sorcery", long enough to enter common knowledge:

'And she still refuses to believe the stories of beings that prowl at night, setting fires and attacking innocents. ... She calls them rumours and fishermen's tales, when we all know they're true.'

The beast that did this- it's unclear for exactly how long- is a Shadow Lord spy, one of the Dorne people (I shan't say who). They grow bark-like skin and claws when transforming, control a glowing bubble to lure the child to them, breathe white flames (the attack that hit Rye?) slay people in their beds without a scratch, and burn threatening messages into the local cornfields. It's a pretty impressive slate of powers for a saboteur.

The similarities between the two cases are enough to lead me to believe that they stem from the same cause.

The trope of total amnesia that only affects your personal identity, and the concept of a strike on the head being what cures it, is pretty much entirely relegated to fictional plot devices. It just isn't how amnesia, which already is very rare, works in real life.

This could just be a trope that Rodda is fond of, like rhyming prophecies... but I hate analyzing things like that! There must be a diegetic reason.

Whether there was another servant with this ability also in the arena with Doom alongside the Vraals (where the memory of its appearance would be particularly hard to retrieve even after recovery, going by what happened to Rye), or guarding the border to attack Doom, this could be another obscure tool at the disposal of the Shadow Lord, one whose nature is especially suited to keeping it unknown.

[bigboysteveharrington]

Whenever Steve’s dad pulls an asshole move that particularly pisses him off, Steve takes his friends spite shopping with his father’s credit card

It happens first with Robin when the mall just burned down and Steve’s still visibly injured from what went down there and his father is already on him about finding a new job as if he got fired or quit for fun and his job didn’t burn down and sure his dad doesn’t know the real version of what happened, but he almost died ‘in the fire’, can’t he at least have an inch of breathing room?

But he hasn’t cut Steve off yet, he’s just threatening to if he doesn’t start looking for a new job soon. So Steve picks up Robin and takes her to every store in town still open and buys himself a bunch of shit and keeps asking her what she wants and suggesting stuff for her and when she brushes off one of the things he shows her as way too expensive, Steve tells her he’s paying. And Robin looks hesitant, so he adds, “Well, actually, my douche father is. That’s the whole point of this. So the more expensive the better.” And Robin just studies his face for a moment and then turns and says, “In that case…” and just starts grabbing things and they both grin

After this, Robin is a staple in the tradition of spending as much of his father’s money in one day as possible whenever Steve wants to send a message. The kids also frequently benefit from Steve’s random “Come on, we’re going shopping. You can get whatever you want. I’m buying.”

They don’t know why Steve sometimes just randomly decides to spoil them all and they don’t question it. Obviously he can afford it. At first, they try to just get a few things but then Steve starts shoving more at them and asking if they want it, so they start trying to push the limits of what they can get, but it becomes very clear very fast that Steve has no limit for what he’ll buy for them when he’s in this mood

Steve’s father hasn’t acknowledged Steve’s rage spending once. Steve knows that’s probably a good thing, but at the same time it annoys the hell out of him that he doesn’t know if his father even notices or cares. And that’s why the scale of his spending goes up every time

[dirtyoldmanhole]

YRMR cover progress for the curious!

before drawing, there were a few things i knew that the cover had to have/show:

critically, had to have vibes of an enemies-to-lovers dynamic in the sense of ... the power tilt? even though that's not "technically" the true nature of their dynamic. gunter's not a nice guy in this fic, even aside from the possession, and i also didn't want anybody to run into this unsuspecting the darker parts to the fic. him more looming/threatening than you'd expect in base game, etc.

wanted to emulate kozaki's style through the whole cover in line qualitty, coloring, and composition. thankfully he gives a few tips over on his twitter. it's both a neat little nod at the source material, and also as a style experiment.

a big theme in this fic is gunter being made of so many masks/shells (there's a perfect blue cover, see below, that specifically made me think this composition could work.)

learning that kozaki hews pretty close to grids + the golden ratio was another big lightbulb moment, here's a drawing yoinked from his twitter where he shows it himself.

after scraping/studying from kozaki's twitter, i made one or two thumbnail doodles below. you can see the solid one had a golden ratio + general line dynamic check squiggled to the side. there's room for the title, the focus is on corrin, it'll work both in a horizontal and vertical crop, looking good so far.

you can see how pretty tightly to the thumbnail i kept, other than moving the vertical text to the top since i didn't have as much room there. i'm a little worried about the different line quality between how big the face is vs corrin but we'll see.

something i also realized i like about the composition is corrin "could" look like she's attacking the viewer, but she also looks like she could be guarding him with her back to him, which.... heh. comes up in some interesting ways in the last third of the fic (possession wise).

bunch of cleaning up.

as I suspected since this is 11x17in (much bigger than what i normally draw) i had to grab a different brush for gunter since thin lines were not going to work as they did for corrin. i think kozaki's real genius is how he treats texture with his linework; where he does thin lines, where he puts the thick ones, etc.

corrin's coming along great but there's a spirit to the first face on the left i think i'm missing now, so i'll probably re-insert that. (also decided to at least draw in his face there even though the masks/slices will distort that). i think what also helps is gunter's face is very low contrast and needs to remain low contrast, to help corrin pop out in front.

then i started thinking about typography. a lot of the fonts i had were either way too masculine/bland/modern, or way too feminine/curvy. this title needs a hint of masculinity to nod at FE's general action-adventure RPG roots, but it's also very distinctly the kind of erotica that doesn't easily lend itself to a genre. it's tender horror, it's daddy kink, it's vicious romance, it's ... a lot of things.

here's another thing: when thinking about title typography, another consideration is genre. briefly i considered something like lovecraftian covers; my doujin circle and i had been sharing pictures of old pulp covers. i also noticed a lot of my favorite JP erotic horror doujin have very spiky titles. this title also needs to be scrunched up in a tight space so it's not like we got a sprawl of acreage here either.

what doesn't help is enemies to lovers doesn't really have a visual language in mainstream media.

it's a staple of Ao3 (written) genres, but the closest you'd get otherwise would be romantic horror (kind of says a lot about who makes what huh?). for example, the shape of water (movie) isn't a 1:1, but it's pretty damn close -- unfortunately that poster dodged the question by using an art deco-inspired font typeface that was more about the setting than the genre.

and then i had an epiphany. maybe i was approaching this from the wrong direction: it's the knight/liege romance that's the heartbeat to YRMR.

think more old dragonlance novels. old medieval/fantasy pulp novels; plenty of kinky sex and ass in there, and still close enough to FE. remember everyone and their mamma having a bi ass crush for bad boy raistlin? that's the vibe i want.

this kind of glorious deranged shit. you're not gonna be surprised at possessed grandpa whip kink if you read these on the regular.

after ~*arcane designer magic*~ (I do this for a living) bolton and magiona display were the two fonts that were gonna work just fine together.

god that looks so much better. this looks believable now.

the thin/thick line weight contrast in magiona display is going to accentuate the lineart in a way that might be tricky with other fonts that work better on painted covers. bolton's "squished" vertically enough it doesn't compete with the other one, and makes for a good secondary/tertiary font.

few other things happened.

i shrunk gunter's face because not being able to see his jawline (sex appeal u see) was bothering me from a composition standpoint. it's the same reason frank frazetta didn't censor his glorious asses.

(said seriously, by the way. so many people don't give their lust in art enough credit.)

i also needed more room for the title to show, and the line quality/scale difference between his face was also bugging me. does this mess up the golden ratio composition? sure, temporarily, but his armor's weirdly flexible that we can adapt it pretty easily.

it's about this time i'm also looking through my hydrus network stash of favorite covers for what color palette and contrast to use. kozaki tends to skew purple/cooler hues for nohr characters, and that'd go well with these two.

purple/green hues that play well with light purple and the yellow from those old covers i love so much, low contrast midground, and something that'd contrast well with text above. dark/black background for the gothic vibes, and the text will probably need to be white or some sort of light-warm hue for that "pop".

doing color tests is more of a leap of faith and intuition than an exact science, but damn it is it satisfying when you nail it in one go and go 'holy shit i want to read this. :D

(green/gold for the hint of anankos' mask, also matching the yato and her warmer skin tone. purple flames for him, but the high contrast armor to separate her from his larger shapes. we've got the dragonstone and the yato as flexibility for lighting and emphasizing contrast with her. )

i kind of like how i accidentally made the mask shards reflect(?) a bit of his own face. hell yeah throw it in. this is something that's more likely to work than not. this is something that has that mix of id and horror i've been going after.

here's another version with references to the side and the golden ratio laid on again.

honestly a lot of it at this step is going 'dude you know what would be SO DOPE.... PURPLE FIRE...' 'dude..... fuck yes....' 'what about some sick ass sword effects?' 'YEAH....' and saving a bunch of backups in case of the idea didn't work out.

(am i going so much harder on a literal gilf porn fanfic cover than i need to? hell yeah. gunterfuckers deserve better. :D )

anyway here is when i start questioning everything, so i'll take a break from the colors to tighten up the lineart. now that the composition's settling in much tighter, i'm also thinking about how the two shapes interact with each other and if there's any potential issues with tangent points (where two lines intersect each other in a way that makes an optical illusion.)

that said i love how his jawline "points" at her face, that kind of line you want.

grinding away on corrin's lineart. also double checking that the shapes/colors/forms for her "make sense" both standalone and with the composition too. what's nice is she's at the point where i can just turn off my brain and polish up.

naturally couldn't resist poking at it more and this is when the rest of it clicked after figuring out which bit was anankos' mask, which bit was possessed!gunter vs himself (polished up the armor a bit too. at this point i'm pretty confident that it'll stay "set"; the biggest thing i'm likely to change is the blue silohuette to the dragonstone side for corrin.

here's the last true screenshot before cleaning up the last 2% of the lines. added the pulp cover texture around the border, switched the colors of the text so the cream would stand out more, cleaned up gunter's face and also increased the darkness of corrin's body so it'd contrast more with him behind.

thanks for reading. :D

[cantsayidont]

June 1964. A month into Batman's "New Look" period, Alfred the butler is dramatically killed off in DETECTIVE COMICS #328. Writer Bill Finger gives Alfred a suitably heroic demise, sacrificing his life to save Batman and Robin from the Tri-State Gang.

Ouch. This is fairly grisly for Silver Age DC, and, more significantly, obviously intended to be final. (If you're going to seemingly kill off a character with the intent of bringing them back later, "crushed to death by tons of rock right in front of their closest friends" is probably not the way to go.)

Two points of interest here: First, the Alfred Foundation, as will be explained later, is the antecedent of what later became the Wayne Foundation (whose building was redesigned in the early 1970s), which did not yet exist at this point. Second, it's awkwardly obvious here that Alfred had never been given a canonical last name. In one 1945 story, he'd used the name "Alfred Beagle," but that hadn't been mentioned again afterward. The name "Pennyworth" was first used in 1969, five years after this story.

Why did editor Julius Schwartz kill off Alfred, who'd been a staple of the Batman strip since 1943? According to Schwartz, it was to help lay to rest the insinuations that had been floating around for years (especially in the wake of Frederic Wertham's SEDUCTION OF THE INNOCENT a decade earlier) that the Wayne household seemed awfully gay. It should be understood that the modern conception of Alfred as a military veteran and one-time badass didn't arise until the 1980s; since his introduction in 1943, Alfred had been primarily a comic relief figure, and generally a bit of a ninny. Schwartz wanted to replace him with a "a sort of chaperoning den mother," which became Dick Grayson's Aunt Harriet, introduced at the end of this story:

Schwartz claimed that he borrowed the name "Aunt Harriet" from the lyrics of the 1929 Hoagy Carmichael standard "Rockin' Chair." Like Alfred, she didn't initially have a last name (the name "Cooper" came from the TV show, and didn't appear in the comics until DETECTIVE COMICS #373). In the comics, she was not as old or quite as matronly as Madge Blake, who played the character on TV; she was perhaps a decade older than Bruce Wayne.

I'm a little skeptical of Schwartz's assertion that his goal in killing off Alfred in favor of Aunt Harriet was to make Bruce and Dick seem less gay. If that was the plan, it wasn't terribly effective: For one, as the TV show demonstrated, her presence in the Wayne household hardly decreased the camp factor, and the principal dynamic of her comics appearances was to have her nosiness constantly threaten to "out" her nephew and his guardian! Moreover, the "New Look" period actually discarded the three recurring female characters who'd previously been positioned as romantic foils (Batwoman/Kathy Kane, Vicki Vale, and Bat-Girl/Betty Kane) — there would be new ones, but they wouldn't appear for a while, nor did Catwoman (who had been absent since 1956 and didn't return to the comics until 1966) — so Schwartz actually cemented Bruce and Dick's "confirmed bachelor" status, at least for a while.

My guess is that Schwartz, who had been given just six months to turn around BATMAN and DETECTIVE COMICS (whose sales were in very bad shape in 1963–1964), figured that killing Alfred would be an easy way to shake things up a bit. As with the yellow oval Carmine Infantino added to Batman's chest emblem, it was a dramatic but largely cosmetic gesture that didn't really alter the direction of the strip in any very meaningful way.

[princess-of-the-corner]

I am starting to believe the ask has a vendetta against me-

anyway, read a fic, have a new favourite AU:

Amnesia!Dabi

Dabi wakes up shortly after his “death” at a “clinic”(run by AfO, cause of course it is), only instead of being rage-hatred-patricide, he’s like, “The fuck are you? The fuck am I??” He manages to “check himself out” (legit, funniest option, no one expected him to be up and conscious, so he literally just LEAVES, no one finds out till way later he dipped) and spends the next however long trying to piece together who he is. He’s got, like, full binders and notebooks full of theories and leads to check up on, including one with everything he knows about himself, such as:

- fire Quirk

-Fire Quirk hurts me?

- Male

- Like spicy food

-don’t like forests? I think??

-Don’t like my hair white?

-dyed it red BAD IDEA?? Made me want to punch a wall???

-dyed it black, no reaction

-tried soba, it was amazing, I started CRYING, WTF??

-etc

AfO probably decides “eh, not important”, and leaves him be (and also probably gets a kick out of the fact that Dabi is, like, 2 hours away from the Todoroki residence). Anyway, eventually, Dabi still joins the LoV, cause, like, he’s sort of running out of options - not having any documentation makes it hard to get a job, he has a HARD MISTRUST of heroes he can’t really explain, and at this point he’s fairly certain he was a government experiment, so that’s right out.

And like, he’s kind of on board for a few chunks, but Toga is awakening The Big Brother Instincts, so that’s creating problems. Then they kidnap Katsuki, and Dabi is “huh, nah fam, not cool with threatening children, actually”, and helps Kat escape. Drags Toga along, cause at this point she’s his kid. Meets Shouto properly, has the weirdest reaction, thinks “maybe I know him??” So, goes to U.A., like, “Hey, I have severe memory loss, but I think I know the Peppermint kid? I helped save one of your students, can that earn me the bare minimum of human decency for help? Also, can you please help Toga, she needs SO MUCH BLOOD, I think the lack is making her sick. Huh? The staples? Yeah, I don’t get it either man, that doctor was insane.”

Then Natsuo shows up for some reason and is immediately “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK TOUYA!?” Dabi, confused “Do I know you?? Wait, am I Touya??”

Original fic that inspired this plot bunny: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113402/chapters/68882268

-

AHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHA

Honestly this would be the funniest fucking option because like.

With amnesia? Dabi is pretty useless to AfO. Like sure AfO could /tell/ him ‘oh yeah your dad is a Hero but he’s An Asshole™’ but the kid wouldn’t have any sort of rage behind it to really manipulate him into villainy. Like sure he’d be upset but he wouldn’t be so rage blind that he’d ignore that AfO is /very obviously far worse/ 

and like. Sure. AfO could pull a Shigaraki 2.0 of ‘hey I kidnapped and brainwashed a Hero’s family member into working for me’. But that really doesn’t hit as hard the second time does it?

[mytalemyworld]

Alaz: You should leave before anybody sees you. Look, you will be jailed for nothing. It's not worth it. I am not worth it. I just used you so that I couldn't go to jail and could tell the cops that I was with you if they asked me where I was. I don't care about you or that night.

He is a lying liar who lies.

Forget all noble idiocies you've ever watched or read. This is a whole new level.

Alaz: Save yourself. Save yourself from me.

Apparently she can't do that.

She brings him to Yaman's birth father, Güven.

But here, this moment destroyed me. She sees for the first time how much he's bleeding. That view shakes her up too much.

Güven: Why do you guys bring everybody you find on the streets to me? Isn't here any hospital? Alaz: No hospital. Güven: Why? First I'm gonna stop your bleeding then you have to go to hospital. I am not your on-call doctor. Alaz: Look at me. Nobody will know this, okay? You can staple or glue it, I don't care. But no hospital, do you understand me?

Alaz is being Alaz. Bleeding to death but still threatening…

Güven of course gets angry, pours something on his wound, he suffers, she suffers with him too. Aaaaaaaaa!!!

Güven: Yeah, I understand. Now you look at me too, but of course if you can keep your eyes open. If you keep threating me, I'll first stitch this wound then re-open it again. I am not your buddy. Talk properly.

Güven: I wonder whom you protect. Why don't you two tell me who did this? Alaz: It doesn't matter who did it. Don't ask.

Lol. Güven be like:

He's so done with them.

Güven: What are you on? Even the best day we have ends with stitching someone. Will there be any day you guys don't make any trouble? Could you bring one more towel from inside? Asi: That's all from me. You know where I live. If he dies, you can send the cops. Güven: What did you do to her?

Doc finds out it finally. Lol. He was scolding both of them just now then is like "so you have done something to her. As usual".

Meanwhile Alaz is just watching her leave. I mean, he finally gets what he wants but doesn't seem like relieved.

Alaz: If someone asks about this, tell them she found me on the road and brought me here. The rest is nobody's business.

He still protects her. By the way if he really died, he probably would tell this was his last wish. Tsk, tsk, his priorities....

Alaz: It hurts too much. Aren't there any painkillers? Güven: You were acting cool just now. What happened now?

I mean, I think he should know. He's quite a perceptive man, he should have understood that he doesn't need to hold back his screams anymore because she left.

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tti episode 5

“Last time on Total Takes Island! A friendly contest compiled our funniest- I mean, most gifted- contestants in a battle of the talents. It had a little bit of everything- barf, sabotage, and an impressively academic win from Scruffy for the Inane Anons. In the end, it was Patrick who took the walk of shame, but not without threatening a few people first. Who will earn Chef’s approval today? And who will go home? Find out now- on Total! Takes! Island!”

“WHERE ARE THEY?” Julia screams, throwing out a variety of her cabinmate’s belongings. “WHERE. THE HELL. ARE THEY?”

Kelly and Michael gaze the piles and piles of clothes, mementos, and summer camp staples (sunscreen and bug spray, mostly) lying on the steps of their cabin as they walk back from the mess hall together, and they give each other a concerned look. 

Julia throws out Kelly’s straightening iron and both duck to avoid it, though it whacks McLovin in the head behind them. He falls to the ground with a faint thump and Kelly and Michael turn back to the cabin. 

“WHICH ONE OF YOU-” Julia throws open the screen door on the cabin and steps out, pointing an accusing finger. Both take a step back as if she’s about to lunge for them, then they notice something seems- off about her. “WHO TOOK MY GLASSES?”

---

JULIA: “Before coming to the island, I pushed up my annual optometrist appointment to get my new prescription before coming here. Yeah, I watched Island- I know that Leshawna’s vision correction was not up to date- I saw her squinting! I’m not making that same mistake.

---

“Woah, no one took your glasses,” Michael says, holding out her hands and waving them down in a “calm down, for the love of God” motion. “They probably just got lost in the cabin.”

“I’ve been looking for hours!” Julia yells. She can recognize Michael by her voice and the vague blob of dark green and navy blue standing next to a blur of white-gold that must’ve been Kelly. 

“We’ve only been gone for like, twenty minutes. Here, I’ll help you,” Michael gives Kelly a shrug, indicating that she’s got this, and walks into the cabin. “Where’s the last place you remember seeing them?”

“Next to my pillow in their case, where I always put them before sleeping. When I woke up, they were gone!” Julia jabs a finger in the direction of her bed. Michael puts on a smile and reassuringly pats her shoulder. 

“They probably just fell behind the bunk. I’ll look,”

Julia rolls her eyes and grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s still clad in pajamas, having ignored everything as soon as she noticed they were gone. 

Michael gets on all fours and crouches down, lifting up the bottom bunk’s blanket and staring into the abyss. Scary is hunched in the darkness under the bed, eyes reflecting in the morning light like a cat’s. Michael is silent for a few moments before clearing her throat. 

“Have you… um, have you seen Julia’s glasses case, by any chance?”

“In order to pass to get your need, you must answer my riddles three!”

“Aw, what? Oh- nevermind,” Michael says, reaching to the inner corner and coming back out from under the bed, covered in dust bunnies and holding a dark blue glasses case. 

Julia’s face lights up. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Are they okay? Are they hurt?”

Michael opens the case and peers inside. “They’re… not in here,”

“WHAT?!”

---

Courtney relaxes as they sit at their usual corner of the table, McLovin shielding them from the rest of the team as he absent-mindedly holds a grimy ice pack to his jaw. 

“I have a good feeling about today,” Courtney smiles, subconsciously folding their napkin into an origami crane. “If I remember correctly, this challenge will be easy enough for us to win, even if Mal tries to throw it.”

McLovin blinks. “Why do we think Mal is sabotaging the team, again?”

Courtney holds a finger to their lips to hush him, and then looks around the table. Mal and Ass are sitting on the other side, making each other friendship bracelets. Courtney lowers their voice to continue: “It’s just a hunch I have. The dodgeball game, the talent show… something is going on,”

“Really?” McLovin looks at Mal. “But she seems so… nice?”

“That’s what she wants everyone here to think. She knows no one would believe me…”

“I would,”

Courtney hesitates for a few moments, and then grabs McLovin’s wrist to drag him outside, behind the communal bathrooms. “If I tell you, you have to promise to keep this a secret,”

“Promise. I’m an expert at secrets, trust me,”

“Well…” Courtney sighs. “The whole reason I auditioned to come here was because my reputation is at stake because of it. That girl… Mal… she’s not who everyone thinks she is.”

McLovin raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Her real name is Lucy. We both run Total Drama blogs. We were even friends, for a while… that is, until I figured out what her true colors are. When she found out I was going to cut her off, she published this huge manifesto about me- my secrets, my feelings, things we’d shared in confidence over questionably secure private chats. She accused me of glorifying Total Drama Island, and disregarding the struggles of the past contestants. She said that unless I was actually on a season, I was a liar, a manipulator, and a “”toxic fan””. So… I came here to prove myself, and she followed,”

“Woah, that’s heavy stuff,” McLovin says, frowning. He looks over his shoulder, back to the mess hall. “If what you’re saying is true, then… everyone’s in some serious sh-”

“I know! But I can’t say anything, because she’ll get me eliminated, somehow. She’s playing the game like such a major antag… So I’m just trying to focus on winning until the merge,”

“Should we tell Ass?”

“No, we can’t…” Courtney sighs. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to warn them a little, though. Can I trust you with that?”

McLovin salutes and jogs off. Courtney stretches and walks in the opposite direction a few moments later, just in time for a Lightning-shrouded head to peek out around the corner. 

---

SHA-MOD: “Sha-Mod’s got the Sha-Dirt! And if there’s anything this show has taught me, it’s that blackmail is a winning strategy! Or was it that you should never eat those succulent little red berries you find on trees…?”

---

“Alright, campers! Meet me at the campfire pit for the “deets” on your next challenge! Did I say that right? I feel like the interns keep making up these words, Chef,”

“Chris, the intercom is still on,”

---

The campers sit (or stand) around the campfire pit, looking extremely unenthused. Julia is dressed, but squinting without her glasses. McLovin saunters over and forces himself between Ass and Mal on the grass. 

“Today’s challenge will test your outdoor and/or survival skills,” Chris grins, holding up two packs. “Your only job is to live through a night in the woods. Most- or some- of the things you’ll need are already at your team’s camp site, if you can find it.” He tosses the packs over- Max catches one, and McLovin catches the other before handing it to Courtney. 

“The first team back here tomorrow morning wins. Oh, and watch out for bears… and the killer mutant hornet nests we hid around the island this morning.”

The campers wince. 

---

CAESAR: “Well, I’m not exactly happy to be on the receiving end of these things, but I can’t say I’m not impressed. Chris has style,”

---

The Inane Anons walk at a somewhat steady pace, following Max and Staci as they attempt to read the map. “You know, my great-great-great-great uncle Ferdinand was actually a third member of the Lewis and Clark expedition, but they left his name out of the notes because of the anti-Spanish sentiment back in the 1600s,” 

Max sighs. “Yeah, that’s great. Can you just tell me if we’re heading in the right direction?”

“Nice leading, strawberry shortcake!” Julia yells from behind, standing alongside Michael as if she were a service dog. 

“I don’t want to hear a peep out of you, Helen,” Max snaps, pointing back at her. “You’re about as useful to us right now as a two-legged horse.”

Julia glares in the wrong direction. Michael pauses to grab her head and pull it back around to where Max is standing.

---

Max grins, leaning against the confessional wall, and then pulls a thick pair of glasses out of his blazer. 

---

“Just a few more paces this way,” Courtney says to McLovin, pointing ahead before they turn to the sound of shrill giggles coming from Mal and Ass. Courtney looks at him and he salutes them, jogging backwards until he’s right between the two friends. 

“Hey, Mal, I think I heard Caesar was looking for you,” he says, jabbing his thumb backwards to where Caesar and Bonnie are lagging behind the rest of the group, chatting merrily with each other. 

Mal raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah, he wanted to ask you about that… thing,” 

Ass gives Mal a perplexed look, to which she shrugs and turns to the back of the crowd. As soon as she’s gone, McLovin turns to Ass. “Hey, so, I don’t wanna intrude or anything, but-”

Sha-Mod suddenly pops out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “What’re we talking about, guys?”

“Oh- um, nothing,” McLovin smiles nervously. 

“Good! Wouldn’t wanna say anything funny without Mal around to hear it, right?” 

---

SHA-MOD: "I keep forgetting who's sha-side I'm on. But I'm pretty sure you're supposed to use blackmail against the people with the secret. ...Right?

---

“Um,” McLovin responds, ducking out from under Sha-Mod. “Right. I should go talk to Courtney about… that thing.”

The Fujoshis step into a clearing where their tent and a small circle of stones is set up on the ground. Courtney smiles triumphantly. “Okay, we have a few hours before sunset, let’s start organizing ourselves,”

“Booooo,” Caesar heckles from the back. Bonnie elbows him with a grin, and Courtney rolls their eyes. 

“Okay, who thinks they can get enough food for everyone?”

“Oh, me! Me! Me and Ass!” Mal jumps as she raises her hand, wrapping her available arm around Ass’ waist. They giggle and Courtney groans. “Okay. You two, and… McLovin, can you go with them?”

“No way, man,” Sha-Mod says, stepping up and leaning his arm on McLovin’s shoulder. “My boy and I already agreed we’re getting the firewood.”

“Okay, then I’ll go with Ass and Mal. Kitty, just stay here and keep the animals away from our supplies. Caesar, Bonnie, you two- where did Caesar and Bonnie go?”

---

“I never was a fan of the outdoors,” Bonnie sighs, kicking a rock across the path. 

“Oh, God, never. I’ll run simulators and collect analytics all day, but camping? In this?” Caesar gestures to his finely-pressed suit. 

“Totally, I get that. Where are we going, again?”

“Craft services tent. I’m not eating raw meat and berries tonight like some kind of cave creature, not while Chris and Chef get to have gourmet food service. Besides, Courtney seems like they have things under control,” 

Bonnie shrugs. “Yeah, they’ve got their own thing going on. They won’t miss us,”

---

“Okay, Staci, Scary and O, go find some firewood, enough for the night. Scruffy, count our supplies and see what else we’ll need. Kelly and Austin, find us something to eat. Michael- go with them and make sure they don’t hurt themselves, please,” Max reads off the tiny notes Chris left on the map. “Frollo and Julia, sit over there and try to be quiet.”

Julia grimaces. “No. No way you’re sticking me with Pope Francis over here,”

Frollo glares, opens his mouth to say something, and is promptly met with a finger in his face. “I don’t even wanna hear it, altar boy!”

“If I let either of you out of sight, you’ll get lost, and I’m not in the mood to arrange a search party for you bozos,” Max says. “Stay here and try to stay alive, please.”

Julia grumbles and walks over to the space between the fire pit and the campfire where Frollo is already sitting with his Bible. 

Staci and O come jogging back, panting and wood-less. 

Max sighs. “I don’t mean to bother you from your afternoon jog, but you guys seem to be missing some firewood,”

O gasps and collapses on the ground, shaking and rocking back and forth. Staci stutters, sputtering for air while waving their arms around. “B-b-b-”

Julia’s eyes widen and they whip their head around. “Bear? Where?”

“Bats!”

“Seriously? Okay, awesome, you found some bats. Where’s our fire fuel?” Max looks around. “And where’s Scary?”

---

Scary sits in a darkened cave, only their eyes visible as he looks around with delight. The camera spins, revealing that she’s hanging upside down, just as a few dozen pairs of massive green eyes open around her. 

“Tee-hee!”

---

“Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me! How hard is it?! How hard is it?!” Max paces back and forth, groaning. “Stupid… ok, who’s going to go get her?”

Everyone looks at each other. O, still on the ground, wriggles away and hides inside the tent. Scruffy whistles and looks up at the sky, Staci steps behind a nearby tree. Frollo coughs.

"Julia, you-"

"Nuh-uh, four-eyes," Julia wags a finger at him. "I'm legally blind, remember?"

“What’s going on here?” Michael asks, leading Austin and Kelly (too busy holding hands and carrying a bundle of fish) back into camp. 

“Minor setback,” Max sighs. “Where’d you get the fish from?”

“The river. There’s a ton of them, probably migration season or something. I just kinda…” Michael gestures, jabbing her hand downward in a grabby motion. “Austin and Kelly just collected a bunch of seashells for jewelry.”

Scruffy raises an eyebrow, their tone a mix of confusion and slight disgust. "You just grabbed them out of the water? With your hands?"

Michael lowers her eyes. "What have you done so far, exactly?"

Max thinks for a moment. 

---

MAX: “There's definitely something wrong with the part of her brain that's supposed to process rational thinking, but at least she's competent.”

---

“Okay, Michael, you’re with me. Scruffy is in charge while we’re gone,”

“What? What’s going on?” 

“We had a little mishap. And by we, I mean tweedle dee and tweedle dum over there,” Max jabs his thumb back to Staci and O, who’re both looking around innocently.

---

“Okay, seriously, how is this so hard?” Courtney huffs. “I’ve been reading survival manuals all semester, and I can’t find anything to eat but tree bark, which is a last resort.”

“I dunno, maybe we just suck at surviving?” Ass chuckles just as Mal comes running back into the clearing, holding up the hem of her shirt. 

“You guys! You guys! Huge berry patch!” she pants, holding up the indented pouch in her top, which they reveal to be full of little red berries. “You gotta come help me carry them!”

Courtney beams, giving Mal a tiny, tiny grateful look before bounding off in the same direction with Ass. Mal smiles slightly, and then walks after them.

---

“That was amazing,” Bonnie sighs, stretching. “Seriously- I’ve never had food so good before.”

“It’s probably just because we’ve grown too accustomed to the slop they serve in this place,” Caesar chuckles as the two walk back to camp. “But that was pretty extraordinary. Those sandwiches? Goodbye to my diet!”

“Ugh, living on this island is a diet,” 

“You can say that again,”

The sun is already setting in the distance, shrouding the landscape in an orange-y hue. They continue down the path, idly talking amongst themselves before suddenly hearing a rustling up ahead. Caesar holds out his arm, stopping Bonnie in their tracks. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“I heard something… it sounded big… bear big...”

“If you’re messing with me, Caesar, I swear…”

Suddenly, McLovin and Sha-Mod come running out of the woods, covered in little red bumps and screaming. Caesar and Bonnie look at each other, and then back to them as they disappear in the brush on the other side of the path. Just as they do, a massive swarm of hornets emerge from the forest. 

“Oh, crap,” Bonnie says. “Run?”

Caesar nods. “Run,”

The two set off in the same direction as Sha-Mod and McLovin, bounding through the woods as branches tear at their skin and clothes and the breeze tousles their hair. They catch up with the two former contestants, who are still screaming in sync. 

“What the hell did you idiots do?!” Bonnie shouts. 

McLovin starts. “We were just-”

“Looking for firewood!” Sha-Mod continues. 

“We were both planning on-”

“Sabotaging each other!” They say in unison. 

“But we realized we actually-”

“Have a lot in common!”

“That’s a great Hallmark movie, where do the hornets come in?!” Caesar shouts. 

“We were heading back to camp and I tripped on a log sha-full of 'em!” Sha-Mod shouts back. 

“Look! Up Ahead!”

The end of the island is fastly approaching, a sharp cliff drop into the waters below. McLovin and Sha-Mod hold hands. “Jump on three!”

Bonnie’s eyes widen. “WHAT?!”

“One!”

Caesar holds up a finger. “Wait just a-”

“Two!”

“My- my hair!”

“Three!”

Sha-Mod and McLovin jump into the water, Bonnie following. Caesar hesitates for a moment as the swarm approaches before groaning and jumping, too. 

---

“They said north,”

“We’ve been walking north for hours,”

Max sighs, checking his watch. “Forty-five minutes. Seeing as it’s a cave, it’ll probably be around the mountains, which are just up ahead,”

Michael rolls her eyes and pulls up the hood of her parka. It’s now pitch black outside as the two approach the small mountain range’s base and see a large cave opening up ahead, a bioluminescent green smear above the entrance. 

“That’s the one,”

The two give each other a fleetingly nervous look, but move on without another word. 

“I don’t suppose you brought a flashlight with you?”

The two walk into the cave, dimly light by the fading dusk, and squint into the surrounding darkness before seeing Scary hanging from the ceiling. 

“You! You get down here right this second!” Max hisses, pointing a finger at her. Scary giggles. 

Michael looks around. “Where are the, um, you know… the bats?” 

“Out,” Scary smiles. “It’s night, sillies!”

“We need to go,” Max whisper-shouts. “Get down from there!”

Scary smiles, and then lets their body go limp, falling from the ceiling straight onto Michael and Max, knocking them both out cold. 

---

“What happened to you four?” Mal asks with a small smile. 

Caesar sighs, rolling his eyes and waving off the question as Bonnie continues trying to wring the water out of their thick ponytail. McLovin and Sha-Mod are chuckling, already joking about the ordeal. 

Courtney giggles from the other side of the fire. “Why are your heads all swirly? And why are you green?” 

“I’m seeing new colors, man, new ones,” Ass says, shaking their head.

“Um… what’s going on with Cheech and Chong over here?” Caesar asks. 

“Nothing, they’re just tired,” Mal smiles, patting the ground beside her, inviting everyone to take a seat. “Care for some berries?”

---

“Ugh… What the hell happened?” Michael groans, her eyes opening slowly. “...Scary?”

Max, curled up on her lap like a cat, sighs as he wakes up. “Where are we?”

“We’re still in the cave. I think Scary knocked us out,”

Max stands up and stretches as Michael rubs her eyes. His usual look of annoyance crosses his face and he begins walking out of the cave before Michael can get up. “If we lose, that thing is leaving,”

She places a hand over the bruise on her head. “I can agree with that,”

---

Caesar’s eyes slowly open and he hisses at the harsh glare of the sun, directly overhead. “What the- what happened?”

Courtney sits up next, their eyes red and their face almost gaunt. “What- what time is it?”

“Noon,” Ass says, squinting into the sun. “We’re so totally screwed.”

“God, what was that? I feel like my brain went through the spin cycle on my grandma’s old ass washing machine,” Bonnie stands up, brushing off their hoodie. 

Courtney spots a stray remaining berry on the ground and inspects it. “I don’t think these are raspberries,” 

“What are they?” McLovin asks, rubbing his forehead. “...Blackberries?”

“I have no clue, but if my memory of last night serves correct, they seem to have some hallucinogenic properties,”

Caesar blinks. “You’re saying we were drugged?”

“Not intentionally! Mal didn’t know!” Ass insists, looping their arm with Mal’s, who smiles earnestly and nods. She shoots Sha-Mod a glare.

"Y-yeah, Mal didn't know!" he says.

Mal sighs. “I am so sorry, if I’d known, I never would’ve let Kitty’s advice slide!”

Everyone blinks. Courtney lowers their eyes. “Kitty told you about the berries?”

Mal nods solemnly. “That’s probably why they’re not here… trying to keep us from winning,”

McLovin gives Courtney a glance. 

---

MCLOVIN: “Now, call me crazy, but wasn’t Mal the only person at the campfire last night who wasn’t all “your heads are swirly!”?”

---

“Maybe Kitty's already back at the main camp,” Courtney says, standing. “We still have a chance if we hustle!” 

The team sets off, running back in the direction they remember coming from with Courtney in the lead. McLovin hangs back, running alongside Ass. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“What?” they ask, panting. 

“Listen… I know you two are friends and all, but Mal is bad news. When the rest of us got to camp, she was the only one who was completely sober. I think she… she might be trying to save face by blaming Kitty, you know?”

Ass shakes their head. “Mal wouldn’t do that! I know her!”

“Do you?”

---

“I am going to wring her little emo neck,” Max huffs. Michael is too winded to respond, but points up ahead at the sight of camp. The rest of the Inane Anons, including Scary, are already sitting around the campfire, most looking around nervously. 

Max turns to the side and sees the Fujoshis jogging alongside them, and then grabs Michael’s wrist and drags her along faster. 

Alas, it’s too late- the Fujoshis make it to the campfire and collapse, exhausted, seconds before Max and Michael can. 

“We… we won…” Courtney wheezes. “We won!”

“Erm… not so fast, campers. Looks like you’re missing a teammate,” Chris chuckles. “Lost cat?”

Courtney’s eyes widen. “Oh, sh-”

“Which means the victory goes to the Inane Anons!” 

Max collapses on the ground and coughs as the rest of the team cheers and huddles around each other. Julia’s glasses slip out of Max’s pocket and land on the grass beside Michael, who picks them up. 

Max gives her a look before she frowns at him and walks over to Julia, turning her towards her and setting the glasses on her face. 

“Oh. Oh!” Julia grins, adjusting them. “Where’d you find them?”

“Oh, you know…” Michael hesitates. “They were just out in the woods.”

“Stupid Chris must’ve pulled something,” Julia rolls her eyes before giving Michael a hug. “Thank you!”

---

JULIA: “Do I really believe that? No, definitely not. But I need an ally and, well, to be frank, Michael has always come off as kinda desperate,”

---

“Fujoshis- normally, our campfire ceremony would be a little more dramatic, but seeing as you’re still missing a team member, I feel my creative energy feels a bit dampened,” Chris grins. “Most of you are safe! Sha-Mod, you sic’d the killer hornets on half your team. Mal, you gave everyone hallucinogenic berries- and Kitty, wherever that thing is, gave Mal the berries and then disappeared, costing you the win!”

Everyone frowns deeply aside from Mal, and Ass gives them a small, suspicious look. 

“So, it should come as no surprise that Mal and Sha-Mod are safe,” Chris chuckles. “We’ll send a search team out for Kitty in the morning, after breakfast… or maybe lunch, depending on how I’m feeling.” 

The team grumbles amongst themselves and stands, beginning to walk back to their respective cabins. Ass turns to Mal as she begins to leave. 

“Did you lie?”

Mal stops, but doesn’t turn. 

“Did you tell everyone that it was Kitty’s fault to get them eliminated?”

She rolls her eyes before putting on a small smile, half-turning towards Ass. “Now, why would I do something like that?”

"McLovin said..."

"Don't be stupid," Mal snaps. "Who would you trust? Your best friend, or some string bean?"

Ass doesn't have a response, so they simply look at the ground, rubbing their arm. They look up just in time to frown deeply as Mal walks off. 

---

Somewhere deep in the woods on the island, a derelict, crumbling well sits in the dark. A small giggle comes from within its depths.

[randomkposts]

The hangry meltdown

K:-I think back to Goro's meltdown on Shido's ship, and there were a lot of things that contributed to that. 

I mean, it all ties back to him being an orphan, and Japanese treatment of orphans in Japan, but there were other surface reasons he had his meltdown. 

I have seen people say that his busy schedule of being an honors student, detective, television speaker and metaverse ninja would not lead to a lot of break time to decompress. Which is very true and would explain it. 

But so would his eating habits. Things like an apple for lunch. Let's back up a little. Goros is an orphan, and probably lives on takeout since the odds someone taught him to cook are low. Takeout is expensive. A single desert is usually cheaper then a meal, even if the later is more filling, and desert works with the image he cultivates, and spending less means he goes (is seen going)  to fancy restaurants. So it's a money saver. Spending less on food means more to spend on nice clothing, and other image maintenance. So desert at fancy places it is. Sushi if Sae treats him.  He also probably doesn't have a lot of time to eat with all his activities. So he doesn't  have great eating habits in the first place, and realizes he needed to check Shido's palace (that the phone might have held more significance then it seemed) mid talk show. 

When did he last eat?

He was already stressed, then he had to go deal with the PTs again, hungry. 

So he had a hangry meltdown.

E:-As someone who regularly forgets to eat, that's terrible he keeps going without.

Goro indulging on dessert while jabbing a fork very threatening

"I can stop when I want to," Goro said, then out of the corner of his mouth"only do I really want to "

K:-I'm not good at it either, but thankfully I have parents and therefore eat with them , unlike Goro who lives alone. 

No, Goro budgeting:- "if I get desert, it will look good on the food blog, and I will have money to keep up my haircut when I need it."

Goro is smart, but I doubt he has taken much in the way of nutrition class.

… Then again, me who has taken a nutrition class, was in college once, and pretty hungry on the way to class. Also tired. And didn't have much cash or time. Using what I knew about energy giving foods, and the amount of cash I had on me, I determined the most efficient thing I could buy was an apple and a liter of chocolate milk. 

Just had a liter of chocolate milk in class, drinking it to try to stay awake.

Between the boys, Ryuji and Joker are the ones who can cook. 

Makoto is the one I would put as likeliest to know cooking, alongside Haru. Ann is a hard maybe, and Futaba is a not unless it's unpackage and mix.

E:-People can be smart but forget basics like nutrition.For me If I forgot and its almost the end of the day when I shouldn't be eating so much, I usually offset it by drinking liquids like orange juice or milk.And a decent meal to fill me us. Coffee is my staple right now.

K:- Eclipse  Nooo

E:-Thank God my bois know. Agree on Anne and Futaba.

I know I know my mom has been getting me to eat.  Though she says "you get distracted and keep putting it off "

K:-I mean mood, but also eat please.

E:-I will!

K:- Still, imagine Joker pulls out curry and derails the fight. He's that hungry. 

[slovo-theshattered-onion]

Okay Google, How Do I Cope with an NDA About Nothing Relevant at All?

this is a continuation of that one story i posted, like, the day before yesterday or so about adam and jeremiah and it's from a third party's perspective :D :D :D 2908 words !! enjoy <3

cws: office work, mentioned transphobia, alluded to Severe Mental Health Issues, coming in possession of the Juiciest Gossip that you can under no circumstance share, allusions to kidnapping but only if you squint, possibly (probably) very ignorantly written muslim POV character (tell me if i did an offensive please, i have random bits of knowledge all over the place but i admittedly mostly sourced this post while writing so. by far, not perfect research 👍)

Someway, somehow, despite QaTRO being one of the queerest organisations in Portugal if not worldwide and therefore full of all flavours of people, no one in the ranks is more mouthwateringly intriguing than their boss.

All the tabloids huddle routinely at the entrance to QaTRO's offices in vain hopes to catch so much as a glimmer of the man, to say nothing of the perpetually snooping smear campaigners. Everyone knows of his fashion sense, yet no one knows where he gets his clothes; everyone knows he has transitioned and had most of the available surgeries, but not one photo of him from before has been found; everyone knows he's wonderfully wicked in bed, but anything about his personal relationships is barely speculation at best; everyone knows Adam Pereira the myth, but all anyone knows about Adam Pereira the man is that he's supposedly Brazilian-American and, if you catch him in a conversation, funny and sweet to cavities.

Maryam would love to say it's different inside the offices, but the only additional fact they're all privy to is that Adam very specifically refuses to finish renovating one of the bathrooms on the third floor specifically so he can hide there whenever someone asks him too many questions about his past or personal life. The only different thing is, really, that they can come to him with the fruits of their 'make up the wildest things about Adam Pereira' improv game and get entirely unhelpful feedback. Even as his secretary, Maryam doesn't even know what city he lives in after almost two years of constant direct contact! 

All she knows of that is, he's somewhere not too far from Lisbon since he says he has an hour and a half commute to work. Like any other non-demonstrable fact about the boss, though, it's as good a piece of information as that theory he's secretly a cis mafioso from Florida who skinned his arm to mimic a phallo skin graft to... She's not sure what exactly, but the sheer novelty of an anti-transvestigation has stapled the thought into her head permanently.

Either way, the point is, no one knows anything at all about Adam Pereira, and the employees at QaTRO have long since stopped asking because the awkward, sweet guy they're working for will find any possible weasel route out of answering. In worst case scenarios, he’ll have a panic attack about it in his personal, dusty, paint-fumed bathroom stall, as well; running damage control in such cases is pretty much the only time his secretiveness affects Maryam poorly, so. She just enforces his boundaries for him, no big deal.

Which is why, when he shows up a day early after one of his semi-annual missionary trips for threatening tea with the governor of Florida- see also, mafioso rumours- she expects him to spend a customary week home, before getting back to the office and never speaking of why he changed his schedule. Alhamdulillah, the improv game has been getting a bit stale. Only so wild you can go before even discussing evidence for 'he's secretly the avatar of some black hole millions of light years away' loses its punch.

What she's not expecting is her work phone buzzing with Adam's number a good four days before he's due back at the office at the very tail end of her shift.

Staring at the contact name, Maryam contemplates if she should have some kind of emergency service on hot dial just in case the ocean's about to burst alight. Her phone continues to vibrate out the melody- soundless, since it has to be semi-professional- of a song about suspicious businessmen. Well, no use delaying; she swipes to answer.

"Maryam! Hello, my beautiful and most valued assistant. Are you available for a short chat?" Voice spiking through the speakers, Adam asks through the bustle of whatever public place he's apparently in.

Maryam raises her brows. "Subhan Allah, Adam? Is everything okay? Can you cough twice if you're possessed?" Smiling, she leans back in her gamer-grade office chair and crosses her legs. Doesn't sound like her boss is in any kind of immediate danger, at least; her shoulders untense just enough for her to notice how tight they got.

"Oh- no, no, everything's fine. I'm just- you have two sugar babies, right? I need gift ideas."

... What?

"For a sugar baby?" To check if she perhaps misheard, Maryam rises from her chair. No one should come into her and boss’ office without knocking, but better to lock the door just in case.

"Not- quite? I just have someone who I need to know with a hundred percent certainty that money is not an issue. Anything expensive will probably do, but I don't know how personal to make it? Or is it better to just hand over hard cash? I mean, I'm planning to open him a bank account soon anyway. It won't count as a gift if I think it's a necessity though, right??" Rattling off, Adam's voice drowns out all the background bustle, "Shit, it totally doesn't, getting a haircut and new clothes didn't convince him. What do I do then?-"

"Woah, deep breath, bossman. It's okay, this really isn't that straight forward but we'll figure it out, In Shaa Allah." Maryam interrupts, tone as comforting as she can get it, and drops on the impossibly cosy sofa at one of the office walls, "In my experience, stuff that they wanted to get for a while but never had specifically enough money for tends to get it across clearest, but what that is really depends on the person. For Simon, it was Faber-Castell pencils, but that'd never work for Ieva, you know? I know you're a private guy, so I won't pry, but I figure you're diligent enough to figure it out." She smiles, "Whoever's in your orbit is lucky to have you, Subhan Allah."

Silence. Not even sounds of a crowd peek through from the other end of the line; did Adam hang up? He very rarely does without a polite goodbye.

Just as Maryam lifts the phone from her ear to check if the call's still on, Adam speaks again. "Is the printer on?"

Oh? Where's he leading with this? Straightening up, Maryam looks over to the printer shrine, and satisfied to find the little light on, falls back into the cushions. "Yeah? What'd you need, bossman?"

"I need you to type out and print a one way NDA for yourself with specifications as I dictate. It's okay if not, but I'll be hanging up then. I don't mean to bribe you, I promise this isn't any kind of important information-"

"Please don't worry about bribery, Astaghfirullah, you know I'd get myself blackmailed for gossip." Already at the desk, Maryam opens a text document, "Ready when you are!"

Silence, again. Whatever Adam wants to tell her must be pressing on him. Her fingers twitch over the keyboard, and she shifts her hold on her phone to her shoulder.

"Use the typical template, fill it out with your name as the recipient and mine as the discloser. Have clause three saying that you may not share the information with anyone under any circumstances other than if your silence will cause direct, certain harm, and edit clause six to include that you may not create any notes or recordings of any of the confidential information I disclose, paraphrased or otherwise. The term is indefinite, oh, and clause four point a, specify it does not apply to commenting on any otherwise leaked information." Adam breathes, "You can back out whenever until the thing is signed, of course."

Snorting, Maryam checks over her work- she's efficient and Adam knows it- and presses the print button. "Too late, I've got a pen out, Bismillah. Who do you want me to forge into our witness?" Easy, she rolls over to the printer in her chair, signing herself and forging Adam in right against a clipboard that lives at the printer shrine for this exact purpose.

"Go catch someone in the hallway, I'd like this to be a somewhat credible document." Sounding slumped, Adam breathes.

Not one to need being told twice, Maryam bolts for the door, unlocks and waves down a random group of employees passing by- presumably about to leave- with the clipboard. "Hey! Anyone want to be legally liable? Or, well, make me legally liable. Boss' having me sign an NDA."

The employees- all from lower tiers, so generally not overly familiar to her- look between each other before one of them shrugs, trots over and signs where Maryam points them to. Bowing her gratitude, she twirls back into the office and locks again. "Done and dusted, what's the confidential information?"

Even through phone speakers, she hears Adam sigh.

"I- have a new roommate. He is literally the most perfect thing on planet Earth. How the fuck am I meant to cope?" Trailing low into a pathetic whine by the final sentence, Adam bemoans, and oh, that sounds like a crush. Holy shit life's unfair, Maryam can't even breathe a word about this- anyway.

"Hm, well it sounds like you want to take care of him. What's the issue with just spoiling the guy?" Back on the sofa, she pulls off her Mary Janes, folding her legs under her.

"We're not, like, a thing, Maryam. He spooks so easily at too much touch, not to mention his metric of 'too much' is so different- I feel sick, I'm gonna dieeee." No doubt draping over something like the hopeless slinky he is, Adam groans. He doesn't ask if Maryam's ever felt this way, doesn't divert attention; he wanted to share, clearly, but it's still a little weird that he’s doing this at all.

Chest tight, Maryam worries her lip as she smiles. "Wanna tell me more about what he might like as a gift, then? Brainstorm solutions, In Shaa Allah, figure out what your boy-toy to be will go crazy for."

A moment of silence. "He really likes that blindfold Besouro gifted me. Blindfolds like that aren't very expensive, though, and mine works just fine. Would he like some kind of kit for making stained glass windows?? He said he was always sad his church didn't have one of those and loved to make fake ones with plastic and sharpies- that's probably something to ask, god. Maryaaaam, how do you do this?"

Oh no, Adam's down bad. It doesn't even sound like he's trying to change topics, just- genuinely in need. Maryam shifts, biting at her barely contained grin. "Well, okay, what's his vibe? Maybe you can find something by thinking less specific things, you know, open your mind." Maybe this is a bit less of a helpful question and more of her trying to suss out as much as she can in what will probably be one single conversation where she gets to learn something her boss deems 'personal', Astaghfirullah.

Man, will she be the only one in the whole wide world who actually knows his type-

"He's... He's divine, Maryam. So effortlessly cool, it's like he doesn't need to think even for a second for witty comebacks, and so caring, and he hates overly sweet things but I bet if I took a bite I'd taste honey. He doesn't like hugs, but he pushed past it to comfort me and I nearly had a heart attack. And I can't do anything! Because- because I'm dumb. This situation is dumb. Man, if I didn't act so impulsively- sorry, I, it's-"

"Breathe, Adam." Straightening, Maryam soothes before her boss can choke on his own throat, "I don't know what your situation is, and I won't push, but I'm sure you can handle it. If he's really as lovely as you say, I'm sure he'll work with you and not against you, yeah? It sounds like he cares about you, you know." She smiles, sweet, hoping it carries through the speakers.

This is the most vulnerable Adam's ever been with her. Tight in the chest, she pulls her legs up and squeezes herself into a hug. Really, the worst thing about Adam Pereira's secretive nature is, he loves to listen, it's almost harder not to tell him things. Try to share his burdens, though, try to give him the kind attention he blankets everyone with so easily, and he's gone.

... Huh. She didn't realise him pushing her away hurt, until now-

"I- there's a power imbalance. He can't- I don't want to force him." Choked, Adam says.

Breathing, Maryam wets her lips and eases up her muscles. "Hey, I'm not forcing my sugar babies even if I'm much more influential than them, right? It's no big deal if you both understand-"

"None of your sugar babies were homeless before you took them in, Maryam." Adam snaps.

Oh. Oh, that's-

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to- it's fine, it's fine. I just, I won't be making any moves, I've been good at it. Some kind of completely not-suggestive gift that he could sell for a shit load of money if he ever needs to escape, and- and that's fine. It's- sorry, I'll-"

"Adam-" What does Maryam say, he'll probably hang up soon, "it's okay. It sounds like you love him, that's- that's hard. I don't know what exactly you did, but- I know you won't hurt him, because you care, a lot, and you're good at it. Just- please come to me to let it out every once in a while, okay? It hurts to be shut out of your life like that, to never be able to give back- I mean, it's fine, if you just talk to your therapist about it it's fine, you don't have to- you don't have to push yourself. Just, I'm here for you, okay?"

Silence. Did he hang up and she not notice-

Heavy, a breath crackles through the speakers. "I- I brought him here from Florida." Adam confesses, "And I... Over-exaggerated the dangers of me just, sponsoring him to help him out of poverty." Another breath, shuddering, "I don't know what it is. I've never felt this way before, but we were talking and, shit, I wanted to have him. Just for myself, close, soft, perfect. And then it was too late to back out, and I'm just- finding whatever excuse I can to throw money at him so he doesn't get trapped. And I- I'm sorry, it shouldn't be your problem."

A warmth unspools, loosening tension, through Maryam's body. "I want it to be my problem, you silly boy. We've known each other for over two years, closely for over one, you know how bad I wanted you to trust me?" She snorts, tenses, shakes her head, "Back to the topic though, you fell in love, and now you know those stupid romances don't exaggerate. You're fixing it all up, aren't you? You'll tell him the truth soon, I know you, and In Shaa Allah, you'll let him go if he wants to go. If you don't, you'll now have to deal with me knowing, and I won't be sweet about it. I promise it'll be okay, yeah? It's a bad deal, and you know well how to make the best out of those."

Silence. Adam sighs before Maryam can even get worried, the smallest groan hiding in his breath. "Shit. I'm sorry I hurt you. I-" Light, he huffs, "It never occurred to me people could be really sad that I don't share. Guess I am a silly boy, damn." Humour no-doubt forced in his voice, he exhales, long and heavy but seemingly smiling, "You're a charm, you know that, Mary?"

He's said that before. Somehow, this particular time it's like peach soufflet on Maryam's tongue, soft, warm and sweet; she's really, really very soft for people trusting her, relying on her, wanting her, isn't she? Crinkles in her eyes, she giggles. "I'm glad. And it's not that bad, I had a lot of practice with clammed up men since I was very little. What's one more to the pile?"

Whining like he did in the beginning of the call, Adam's probably all shrimpy with his posture as his smile flows through the speakers. "I'm not even ashamed, is the thing!! I'm just paranoid! Jesus Christ, this is awful." Light, he jokes.

It's so nice to have one of Maryam's best friends finally reciprocating. Allah, she may just cry.

Instead, she glances to the clock, and blinks at the time. Four eleven! Her shift's over and she'll be late to get home in time for Maghrib if she doesn't get a move on. "Mhm, well, I won't tell no one, not even the first man I ever pincered out of his clam little shell, so you're gonna be safe. Now go! Get your crush a gift. If he's one of ours, nothing's less suggestive than a childhood dream, you know? Get him a barbie or a fire truck or something, In Shaa Allah, he'll like it. Tell me how it goes, good luck!"

With that, Maryam hangs up on him. She can only imagine him cursing the air, but she does get an email that she received a bonus just as she's about to shut off her computer; it's as playful as ever, and the tea roses blooming in her chest open sweeter than they have in days.

Truly, there's no drug like earning someone's trust.