#small drabble but enjoy

[awkward-tension-art]

Test Results

This is more or less self-indulgent to the time I had to fight tooth and nail to get a proper diagnosis for my fatigue issues. My heart goes out to everyone battling the healthcare system to get proper care for chronic diseases. My heart is with you, and I hope you find a doctor who can help get answers.

Pronouns: Gender-neutral, but I wrote this with AFAB!reader in mind.

Tw: Medical procedures, chronic illness, medical gaslighting, swearing, this has a lot of feelings put into it

Minors, get out of here. My writing isn’t for you.

“Your blood test results came back clear”

Those words would have most people feeling relief. Nothing was wrong. They were healthy.

But those words to you brought you to tears.

You sobbed in the driver seat of your car. What doctor was this? The 5th? 6th? How long did you wait to see this latest doctor? How many copays have you been charged? How much blood has been taken?

All of that, you still didn’t have answers!

You were sick. And no one seemed to care enough to find out why.

It’s all in your head.

It’s your period.

You need to lose weight.

You’re stressed.

You sobbed again. And again. Hot tears streamed down your face as you drove home. You had to pull over into a grocery store parking lot just to weep again. Getting home took twice as long.

You didn’t feel much better once you were sitting on your bed. Your tear-filled eyes kept looking at the paper in your hands.

Within range.

Negative.

All clear.

Nothings wrong.

Why were you sick?! You knew your body shouldn’t feel this way. This wasn’t normal.

Your breath hitched and you crumbled up the blood test results. They’ll be added to the ever growing file of other useless results that told you nothing.

Your face was in your hands as you broke down in frustration.

You were so tired.

Your thoughts were so overwhelming, you didn’t hear the door to your bedroom open.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Leon, your ever sweet boyfriend, knelt in front of you, “take a breath. What’s wrong? What did the doctor say?”

“Nothing!” You wept, “still nothing! They didn’t even bother to talk to me about other referrals!” Your finger pointed to the crumbled up papers with your results.

Leon straightened out the paper to look at it, “another CBC?”

Complete blood count. The most standard of blood tests. The one that all doctors seemed to default to. The test that wasn’t helping you at all.

“They didn’t want to test for anything else.” You whimpered, shoulders shaking, “Why won’t anyone listen to me?”

His strong arms wrapped around you. Leon knew was it was like to scream for answers and only be left with silence in return. He rubbed your back, just letting you cry out your feelings.

By the end of it you were exhausted.

“I’m so tired…” you sniffled. There really wasn’t any other word for it. You were just so damn tired.

“I know.” He murmured, planting a kiss on your head. He held you so tightly. So protectively, “Want me to come with you to the next appointment?”

You debated. Your words and concerns weren’t being taken seriously. Would they listen to Leon? Would they finally do more tests than the standard ones? Would they dig deeper, and try and find the source of your misery?

“Please?” You asked softly, “I don’t…maybe they’ll listen to you.”

He scoffed, “they should be listening to you.”

“They aren’t.”

“I know.” Leon whispered, “I know. And it’s not fair.”

You largely calm down now. Still, you dreaded the idea of making another appointment just to get referred to someone else. You’ve been ping-ponged around the medical specialists in your community so many times you could probably get an Olympic medal for it.

“Next time a doctor tries to brush you off, I can go all asshole and demand for more tests.” Your boyfriend said suddenly.

You couldn’t help but snort. Maybe that could work. At least he’d be able to hold your hand while you got your blood taken again.

“I think I’d like that.” You rested your head on his shoulder.

“We’ll figure this out.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “I’ll help fight for you.”

“Thanks Leon.” You mumbled, giving him a small smile.

At least he believed you. Even if no one else did.

[1930sdarlin]

(Meme made by Me, @1930sdarlin )

[spidey-webz]

18+ MDNI

virgin!bob that’s so desperate for you. he hasn’t fucked you yet, but you’ve made out with each other. let him touch you. his cock always grows hard in no time, heavy against your inner thigh as if being inside you becomes more urgent with every day.

he whimpers against your lips when you wrap your legs around him and he ruts into you, multiple layers of clothing still separating you. he can’t wait to finally find out what it would feel like, to be between your legs and feel your pussy clench around him. bob has touched you before, fingers slipping between your folds messily, maybe a little painfully so, watching your face for any reaction. he had clumsily fumbled at your clit, a small attempt at making you cum for him.

you had taken his hand and showed him how to properly touch you. and god, he is an avid learner.

one day, you decide to let him rub himself against your panties. he watches your hips buck up against him when his tip slides over your sensitive clit, panties turning dark from your fluids and his own. bob mumbles profanities under his breath, his tip red and angry, before he wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking himself.

he comes so quickly. the sight of you, all naked except for your panties, is already enough.

his hands are back on you afterwards, his cum still sticking to your belly and he rubs it in a little before leaning back down to kiss you. messily. his cock is still bumping against your thigh and he gets hard again, thanks to the serum.

“p-please, i want to-“ his voice is nothing more than a stutter, his big hand sliding down your hips and pushing your legs apart a little more. “wanna feel you properly. need it.”

you can’t deny him what he wants, right?

[queer-obsession]

Just a small drabble. Kenma has a high maintenance girlfriend and has no idea (read: he doesn't care and thinks you're way too amazing for him). Song below makes me think of the dynamic

Warnings: Kenma x Fem!Reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, you're into your appearance and typical "feminine" things (by heteronormative standards) in this one, you are just mentioned in this, not actually in it. it's more of a conversation between kenma and kuroo, sorry. really short, i could expand the concept into a fic in the future.

Kuroo looks over Kenma's shoulder to see what's distracting him from Kuroo's riveting story of his last business trip and is surprised to see Kenma confirming an online order. "Buying a new game?" Kuroo asks with a grin.

Kenma rolls his eyes and leans away from him in response. "No. I ordered a new bag for ____ ." His tone suggests it's nothing out of the ordinary, and it isn't, but it still causes Kuroo to raise an eyebrow.

"She's kinda high maintenance, huh?" Kuroo comments his thoughts out loud.

Kenma scrunches his face up as he looks at Kuroo like he's stupid. "No."

Kuroo pauses for a moment and just blinks because Kenma is not naive or oblivious. In fact, he's able to read people almost freakishly well because of his anxious obsession of staying a head of people so they can't catch him off guard and humiliate him or something. There is no way Kenma is oblivious to your tendencies. "You're buying her another handbag..." Kuroo says slowly.

Kenma grunts in response and looks back at his phone. "A tote bag," He mutters the correction. "And I'm buying her it because she carries so much shit in her bag it hurts her shoulders. This is supposed to be internally padded without it being noticeable."

"And...you don't think that's...high maintenance?" Kuroo inquires as if speaking to a child.

Kenma huffs in annoyance and looks up at Kuroo again. "No. She's easier to please than my cat."

Now Kuroo is seriously confused. "What?"

Kenma looks at him like he's stupid again. Kuroo feels like he's on the outside of some inside joke. "I bought her a year's worth of nail sets for valentine's day and she was skipping places for the next week," Kenma tells him bluntly. "She's so easy to please, it's ridiculous."

Kuroo looks at him in bewilderment. "Kenma, she gets a new nail set every month and she hardly ever wears the same outfit twice. She gets embarrassed if someone sees her when she's not fully done up."

Kenma purses his lips. "Yeah. She likes when people admire her," He tells Kuroo as if it's obvious. Kuroo is genuinely so lost right now. "That's not high maintenance, it's easy to understand. If she was super complicated to read and clingy, and nothing pleased her then she'd be high maintenance. She's not any of that."

Huh, Kuroo never really thought about it like that, but he supposes it makes sense for a guy like Kenma. He likes things straightforward and he appreciates people who understand him and his need for solitude. You're straightforward in what you want, you don't expect Kenma to make himself uncomfortable to please you by demanding he takes you places or anything, and you're fine to give him alone time since you like alone time too. Kuroo supposes you being a little materialistic and into your appearance doesn't bother Kenma since it's simple and he seems to be able to understand it, which is all he cares about.

And, now that Kuroo thinks about it, it's not like you ask for Kenma to do any of the things he does. You were into fashion and being done up long before you met Kenma, to the point that Kenma didn't believe you were into him for a while because you seemed so out of his league. It's not like you sought Kenma out because you wanted a guy to pay for your nails. Ever since Kuroo has met you you've had a new nail set every month, happily showing it off. Now, Kenma pays for it though, and he almost looks as happy as you do when you show off your new set to him. Maybe that's what Kenma meant. You are pretty easy to please in that regard and maybe Kenma likes pleasing you, and seeing remnants of it whenever you wear something he bought you or have a new hair style he payed for. Kenma isn't good with words, but he's decent with actions. Maybe he likes that he can please you so easily with actions.

Kuroo smiles at his friend and chuckles to himself. "Well, whatever you say, Kynma. She's your girl."

Kenma scrunches up his nose and turns back to his phone. "Don't call me that."

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I’m the anon who sent you that ask about Sonic and Shadow’s relationship in the Chronic Sonic au. If your post saying you ignore long asks was directed at me, can you please just… post the latest version without answering? I would prefer to save it to my likes and maybe have other fans read my thoughts.

thank you

Well no, it wasn’t just directed at you, there are a couple long asks in my inbox (some of which are positive and very beloved and i cherish, Dopambles I’m looking at you <3). But you’ve sent your ask twice now and this one too so I’ll answer this one. I don’t really want to make this a big long thing, but I also don’t really wanna leave ya hanging when this seems so important to you so lets do this (everyone else can ignore this if ya want I’m going long-winded through everything.)

So, reasons i don’t like to respond to or even post long asks sometimes lets do this [cracks knuckles]

1. I don’t like posting things onto my blog that I haven’t checked over first. I struggle a lot in reading and comprehending long asks. I don’t know why, it’s weird, okay. Let’s leave it at that. I’m not gonna blindly post walls of texts to my blog without checking them over first, because I want to make sure I’m filtering asks so nothing harmful gets posted to my blog. You’d be surprised at how whack a lot of anons can get. Not to say your ask was whack, but I also am struggling to read it so it’s hard to say for sure! It’s not due to the nature of your ask, it is simply because my brain be like dat.

2. Sometimes, I just don’t like having to scroll through walls of texts that aren’t my own to get to my latest posts. I get a lot of asks as it is. I do love answering them, but when they get long, the amount of time it takes to scroll through em makes it hard to refer back to my previous posts and is just is not intuitive or fun when interacting with my own blog, which leads me to my next point

3. This is my space. My blog is by me for me. I choose to post and share to interact and have fun with other people but at the end of the day this blog is my space. I did not create it for anyone other than me. I welcome the people who find joy in my stories here, but this remains my space. If i was being paid for this it’d be different, I’d absolutely curate and change things to make it a better and easier experience for those that i charged to be here, but like… I’m not being paid for this? And to ask me to do what you want in my space so that you can have the experience you want is… i dunno it sounds a little entitled. (I’m not saying that you ARE entitled, only that it sounds like it to me personally.) Contacting me even after I expressed my difficulty in answering asks to try and convince me to post it for your sake is a little rude. I’m not a professional creator, I’m not a person with fans, I’m just a random dude trying to have a good time with other people on a dumpster-fire website. I’m not a creator trying to make sure everyone else is having a good time. This is what i do in my free time to relax and—

4. —being a moderator for other peoples hc’s and conversations is not personally relaxing to me. My blog is not a public confessions blog and I am not a public message board. I am honoured when people share their personal stories and how what I doodle has helped them feel seen and that things will be okay, but I’m not a place for other people to come say what they want to each other, I’m a person, not a message board. How other people use Tumblr is up to them, however, I am not going to change how I use tumblr so that you can have a better experience when it will make the experience worse for me.

5. If i answer asks, I don’t draw. And I like drawing. If I’m posting asks (even without answering them) and stressing about being the middle man in conversations that I will have to regulate to make sure conversations stay kind, that takes a lot of time and energy and I got so incredibly burnt out when i tried to do that. So i stopped. And I will not be starting up again simply so you can have a good time, because I will have a bad one. And this is my space to not have a bad time. If something stresses me out, I will not do it here, it is as simple as that. I have my whole irl to be stressed about.

These are some of the reasons I don’t like to post long asks. I have notified you that I struggle to read, I don’t understand why you continue pushing. I have amazing anon’s who send wonderful long asks who have been kind and considerate with me about my struggles reading and processing. They continue to send their wonderful asks and have assured me it’s okay if I never post them. I am confused as to why you cannot seem to respect my decision as well.

The final reason regarding my hesitance in posting your ask in particular is simply that your hc was not accurate to how I was aiming to portray the characters in the current timeline. You are more than welcome to hc and speculate, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, but I cannot simply post it without answering it like you suggest because I would need to clarify that it’s not true. When I used to do that, people would start to misinterpret my au’s and it stressed me out. It takes hours for me to write up responses to things sometimes because I want to make sure I’m being kind and thoughtful and accurate. I am honoured that you shared something personal but what you wrote is simply not where the characters are at right now. It could be them in the future, but it is still early in the au so that kind of resentment hasn’t set in yet. Shadow is hurting because he’s taking the brunt of Sonic’s negativity but he is resigned to it because for him nothing else matters as long as Sonic stays alive, even if he has to be the person Sonic hates in all this and that is heavy. He’s angry at him when he does not take care of himself, but he is not resentful. Sonic struggles with being a burden on all of his friends, not just Shadow. The way you described the relationship was closer to how Tails and Sonic interact than Shadow and Sonic and even then, there’s more going on that I just don’t have the time or energy to really walk through. And besides, I want to save that energy to draw out things later.

As i shared with another commenter who asked something similar, I can absolutely DM you your ask back if you want to save it. However I don’t understand why you need me to post it to save it your likes if you simply want to save it. You have your own blog you can post it to. Why does it need to be on my blog? Why do I have to do extra work so you can have an easier time to do what you want? I am very grateful for your interaction and love of my comic, and I understand it’s frustrating when people make things harder for you to have a good time, but that’s exactly what you’re doing to me by asking me to change how I use tumblr to suit your wants instead of what is easiest for me. I am not a public service you pay for. I am a person, a full time student with family issues, struggling siblings that I’m trying to help, a person who is struggling myself. I have a limited amount of energy in a day, I get tired quickly. If i want to continue to find joy in drawing I have to set boundaries. You may not always know why someone does something, I guarantee there is more here that I will not share because it is personal. Sometimes you just have to be okay with not knowing, you have to be okay not understanding, and you have to be okay without an explanation that makes sense to you. All you need to do is understand that often times there is a reason people behave the way they do. It’s not a reflection on you or their opinion of you, it is simply many other factors at play that lead to such an outcome.

I sincerely hope this did not offend you, I am not angry with you, nor do I wish for any of this to be taken as scolding or upset you. If it has come across that way, I apologize. I am sorry I am not in a state to give you what you want, and I’m thankful for your patience with me in reading through this and I hope it is enough to at least paint a little bit of a picture as to why I will not be posting your ask. It’s unfortunate that I ended up spending hours addressing this anyway both to you and to another commenter—the very thing I wanted to avoid—but I value you as a person and did not want to leave you feeling negatively if I could change that. I hope this does not affect your enjoyment or experience with how you were having fun with my au, and if it does I am deeply regretful. However, I do have to set boundaries and make sure I’m doing okay or there would be no AU at all. Thanks for your understanding and I hope you have a day as kind as you are.

[mynameisjag]

More stress, more stress drabbles.

Follows right after the last one.

Hope, everyone is doing alright.

Later in the day would find Storm and her friend in the kitchen, much more rested and idly chatting to each other.

Logan had a sling across his chest, tiny little hands peeked out, grabbing at his shirt as the man himself hummed a low tune as he fixed a bottle. Scooping some calcium powder into the milk and ignoring the stares he was getting from the group staring at him from across the room.

Storm herself was sipping some lovely tea and getting amusement at her friends watching in disbelief as the Wolverine prepared a bottle like it was an old routine to him.

Finally having enough of just standing around and getting no answers, Rogue casually strolled over and leaned on the counter next to him, looked over at the open tote bag sitting on the counter, diapers, clothes, wipes, a few more bottles peaked out, she hummed before turning her full attention to the man, “Whatcha got there?”

“Calcium powder.”

“Lo, darlin’, you know that is not what I meant.”

He huffed, eyes rolling as he started to feed the bottle to his tiny passenger, “This is Laura, my kit…my baby.”

Silence.

He turned to glare at the group that had formed in the kitchen, eyebrow raised, “What?”

Scott took a step forward, “Where did she come from?”

“From me.”

“Where’s the other parent?”

“Just me, she’s 100% mine.”

“…did you suddenly gain the ability of mitosis?”

“…what?”

“It’s a real concern, look at our life and tell me it’s not.”

“No, Scott, I do not have the power of mitosis…that I am aware of,” Logan glanced down at the baby in his arms, her little face scrunched up as she ate, tiny angry rumble coming from her like a kitten as though she was mad that she couldn’t drink it all in one go, “easy, sweetheart, it’s all yours.”

He looked back at the group, “If you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do,” with that he grabbed his tote and marched off, getting a little farewell wave from Storm on his way out.

Everyone watched the door shut behind him, giving it a few seconds before unleashing chaos in a rapid fever of questions.

“Okay, so did he disappear to have her like a cat-“

“Whose the other parent?! Fess up!”

“We've all seen his bare ass enough times to know he himself physically didn’t have her-

“Unless-“ “No.”

Storm just hummed into her tea, satisfied with the knowledge she had been the first and so far the only one of the X-men to hold their newest member. The others could bicker and theorize all they wanted to about her origins, what mattered most was that the littlest Wolverine was home now.

Also that she had bragging rights, that was important too and that brought a smile to her face.

Her smile grew as she took in the conversation go on around her.

“If you would let me explain the theoretical concepts on how he could have had her on his own-“

“Hank, no, your fanfiction tabs are not “theoretical concept research”.”

“Well, your wife is the one who introduced me to the art, lets ask her.”

“…Scott…”

“Jean, no.”

[cubtales]

hi hi xixi, your recent comm has been stuck in my mind ever since you've posted it!! so i really have to ask about your dynamic because i love the path you have chosen for your self insert

since memokeepers travel the worlds on their own, and so does argenti, i'm really curious about how you two have met and how it all came to be. do you end up travelling the cosmos together?

how does your knight react when you surprise him with unexpected gestures of love? does he get flustered or does he turn the tables on you?

if you could preserve one moment between you and argenti forever, which would it be?

oh, i hope this isn't too much! take care <3

WINTER !!! 🌨️ oh it truly is so so lovely to have you in my inbox ♥︎ it's never too much! infact, this is perfect imo :3c i'm sorry if i overexplain in this <3 hope you're having a amazing day, take care ! i'm happy we could interest u ⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ᵕ ก ̀⸝⸝⸝

truth be told, our story began before i became a memokeeper ! the night i first met my knight was during a masquerade ball, he was one of the guests of honor while my family was apart of the nobles who were in attendance. if anything, you can say fate weaved our meeting carefully ♡ i was barely allowed to leave my family's lands for any activity & led a very lonely but curious life ehe, i was taking the chance to socialize with others until i soon became very overwhelmed with the masses of people and excused myself to the ballroom's balcony. it was there i first met argenti, who was offering me a white rose embroidered handkerchief when he saw the state i was in. if i do remember correctly, he said something on the lines of, "what bothers you, kin of idrila?" .. his eyes was just as sweet and sincere as his smile, i believe that was the second thing that drawn me to him. the first being his rose colored hair of course <3 we spent the rest of the night conversing, though it was really just me asking him any questions that came to mind ! it was the first i talked to someone other than the maids in the manor, someone who wasn't trained to give me default answers either ! ! it was truly so refreshing ♡ .. though this memory will soon become a sore spot for the two of us later on . . . to answer your last question, a couple years later we meet again, and after some angst we end up falling for each other & traveling together ! for the rest of our lives ♥︎

to my surprise, he actually gets quite bashful before flipping it back on me :3c one thing about 'genti is that he loves surprises, and i love to take advantage of that anyway i can <3 from notes, gifts, to my very presence at times !!! his reactions vary as well ! he always makes me feel that my efforts are appreciated with the way he starts squishing my cheeks or scooping me up and showering me with words of praise ౨꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིৎ i'm really spoiled just from his words alone wehehe .. when it comes to my grand expressions of affection, ( for example.. our stone statue in our garden :3 ) that's when he truly gets bashful. our childhoods happen to be drastically different.. where luxury items happen to be normal to me, he was never granted that lifestyle. i love taking the chance to spoil him with material things due to the fact i can teach him and guide him through things that he isn't use to ♡

oough.. this is such a hard question dear winter WAH ! ummmm if i had to really choooseee :sulk: i guess the moment where our relationship started to define itself. we were in some ruins camping for a night since the city by it was our next stop! for context, during that time the tensions were high between the two of us.. he happened to find out that my home planet was Melustanin, the very place where Idrila ascended, and that since mirror holders were common on the planet— i firmly believed Idrila to be dead. ( whereas most of the knights of beauty believe that Idrila is only missing. ) due to this conflict in paradise, i was extremely nervous to talk to him. it was normal to me that if i argued with someone, they'd soon want nothing to do with me— so mentally i was preparing to let go of the thought of 'us'. unknown to me, argenti was not the slightest bit angry (;｡-̀﹏-́｡) if anything it kind of explained to him why i decided to follow the path of remembrance instead, but since i was pretty much avoiding conversing it was hard for him to clear up my misunderstanding.. sooo he suggested we should camp for the night using the pretense of needing our beauty sleep instead of traveling through these lost ruins at night. after a decade worth of awkward silence, rosie soon scooted towards me to close the distance between us. ( and he knew i'd usually like to cling to his arm or lay in his chest whenever i could ^^; physical touch my weakness !! ) he didn't say anything— just stared at the gleaming stars along with me.

"do you no longer wish to accompany me?" the knight's voice cut through the silence. his gaze still focused on the nightsky, a hint of emotion treading in his voice that plucked at the feathers of my heart. i remember opening my mouth to speak, to firmly reject such a thing— but he continued.

"it's strange, only a few minutes has passed since our last conversation and i feel as if i haven't heard your voice in a millennium." a smile found it's home on his lips. "i find myself missing you as if we're not sharing this moment together."

as if cupid's fingers started to strum the strings of their golden harp, the chords of affection started to swell in my heart. "... you're not mad?" i spoke, my mind craving the validation that had visited my heart.

"my lady, if anything it pains me that you believe such a thing would anger me."

"but i—"

the knight had finally turnt his head, his sincere pair of eyes had caught the stars in the sky and burnt themselves into my very own. i could feel my breath catch as his armored hands gently caressed my cheek. it was that night i felt as if fuli themselves had casted their gaze upon the two of us, capturing this portrait in my very place. "allow me to rephrase. however could i be angry with you? such a emotion could never manifest between the two of us."

stunned into silence, it seemed soon my heart spoke in place of my mouth. "then what could?"

the rose didn't respond, so how could the lily? they shared a moment for what felt like eternity, their eyes becoming aquariums of brimming feelings. before one's glass could shatter... their campfire's excitement had burned to lengths it could not handle, and soon becoming victim of the sigh of zephyr. the night had closed it's curtain on their tale once again. ♥︎

[muzzlemouths]

Were the DMD boys ever witnesses to a baby's firsts? Like first words or first steps?

Superstar Shopping Center, circa 1977

“Did you need help with that?”

Sun moseys up to a mother who looks like she’s got her hands full – literally. Four shopping bags balanced on one arm and a baby in the other. A second child — five or six, if he had to guess — clings to the tail of her mother’s jacket in lieu of a free hand, dressed in her Sunday Best. She ducks behind her mother’s arm as Sun nears and addresses him with a look tied between awe and apprehension.

Contrarily, her mother regards Sun with nothing but relief, handing over all but one of her bags the moment his hands extend to take them. “Well, thank you!” She reorients the remaining bag to sit at her elbow so the little girl at her side has a proper handhold and gently scolds her for continuing to hide.

“It’s quite alright,” Sun assures her with a kind smile. He crouches to be more at eye-level with the child and offers her a little wave, taking no offense to the way she peeks only slightly out from behind her mother. “That’s a very pretty dress,” he says. It’s a Carter's collared plaid, Christmas-time red, with a white dog-eared collar and rabbit embroidery. Perfectly suited for the season. “Are you headed somewhere special?”

“Just down to Shutterbug,” the mother laughs, answering Sun’s question when her daughter doesn’t budge. “I know it’s still early in the season, but I have an endless list of things to get around to before the month’s end, so we’re just going to get our photos done now, and the family will just receive their cards a little early, this year.”

“Oh, certainly,” he nods sagely, as if he’s even once sent a Christmas card himself, “better to get it over and done with before everyone and their mother realizes they’ve forgotten to sign and seal their envelopes!”

“Exactly!” She laughs again. “I figure, well, I might as well get some gift shopping done since I’m already here, but–”

Right on cue, the infant in her arms begins to wail his poor little head off, and she grimaces.

“Finding it hard to get anything done with your hands full?” Sun asks, waiting for her nod before continuing. “Well, that’s nothing I can’t fix! I could carry your other bags for you, or–”

“Could you babysit?”

He straightens with a jolt, nearly dropping the bags he already carried in the process. “Oh! Well, um, company policy doesn’t exactly allow me to–”

“It would just be for a few minutes. An hour, at most.” She gives him a pleading look. “You’re coded with childcare protocols, aren’t you?”

“I–” Sun scrambles for an answer. “My training extends to some childcare etiquette, but–”

“Perfect!” She lofts the infant into his arms like he is nothing more than a small sack of potatoes. “This is George. He’s nine months old as of last week, was just changed, and ate an hour ago, so he should be an angel for you.”

“W-What about his shoes?” He tucks the child against his shoulder and gestures worriedly towards his itty little toes, clothed in nothing but the navy blue footie he wears.

“Oh, don’t be silly, he’s still too young!” The woman insists, “George has only just learned how to crawl, I doubt he’ll be walking any time soon. You have nothing to worry about!”

“But–”

“I’ll come find you in an hour when I’m all finished up. Thank you again!”

The mother turns on her heel like she’s being chased out by fire, leaving Sun there in the center of the mall aisle, still as a statue and stunned into silence.

There was a kernel of truth to his words. Both he and Moon had been programmed with the know-how in terms of child rearing basics, and in fact it was the very first frame of coding that he recalls having. For what purpose, he isn’t sure. It has lied dormant beneath layers of more relevant protocols for years and only ever makes an appearance when he’s interacting with the few children the mall sees from time to time. Even still, it is nothing in the way of proper training for how to care for an infant so small, and for so long.

Needless to say, he was panicking.

The first thing he does after quieting the infant’s cries is find another employee and hand off the bags, instructing them to be brought to Shutterbug and kept behind the desk for the time being.

With his hands freed he can focus all of his attention on the child who, for what it’s worth, has been a perfect angel in the short time since he was haphazardly carted into Sun’s arms. Quiet as a church mouse after that first little outburst, and just as cute, too, the little bundle of joy looking up at him with big brown eyes full of wonder.

Sun returns his gaze with a long sigh. “Now then, what are we going to do with you?”

The protocols that once were dormant now rose to the surface and screamed at him to engage the child in “stimulating activities“, whatever that meant. Instructions for playtime involved everything from games like peekaboo and patty-cake to more developmental activities, such as playing music, coloring, or toying with building blocks. Sun doubted that Bee Gees’ hit single “Stayin’ Alive” was anything in the way of educational for the tiny tot as it played over the speakers, and — to the best of his knowledge — he can’t recall ever having access to building blocks or coloring books. That left nothing but the traditional baby games, tried and true, and easy enough!

He borrows a small blanket from a store nearby and finds a cozy spot on the floor, tucked safely between two plant boxes, to set him down. Sun finds that playing these games comes almost naturally to him — but that’s a given, isn’t it? He follows the instruction manual in his code to the letter, pride and joy overwhelming his stint of uncertainty each time he comes out from hiding behind his hands to the sound of shrill laughter, every “Peek-a-boo!” earning him a motley of giggles and a baby-toothed smile.

Distraction arrives in the form of an employee struggling to carry a stack of boxes into the store behind him. He’s on his feet and across the room in an instant as one protocol briefly overrides the other, and it’s only for a moment — just a moment — but when he turns around again it is to the sight of an empty blanket.

His charge has gone missing.

Panic overwhelms every one of his sensors, rushing along his circuits like adrenaline through veins gripping him with a fear so potent it threatens to shut down his system right then and there.

No, think! His mother said he had only just learned to crawl, which meant little George couldn’t have gone far. Unless the infant hadn’t gone anywhere by himself at all, and rather, someone had come along and–

Sun shut down that train of thought the moment it struck him. He would never forgive himself if something so terrible happened on his watch, saying nothing of what management would do to him if a child was abducted right from under his nose.

He decides the best course of action right now is to follow the same protocol he would use for any other “lost” child. Yes, lost, that’s all they were. It’s so easy to get lost in a mall as large as this one. Sun comforts himself with the knowledge that he has never let a lost child go unfound before. His success rate is a perfect 100%, and he intends to keep it that way.

First, he scans the security cameras for any sight of the child. He is sure to look in every nook and cranny, and he deflates with growing dread when that little navy footie doesn’t appear anywhere on the screens. His voice cuts through the employee radio a moment later and describes the child with every possible detail he can think of, asking that any sighting of the little straggler be reported to him immediately. He hopes against every star in the sky that the mother doesn’t happen to overhear from an employee nearby.

Lastly, he heads out in search of help.

Moon is meant to be working on the upper floor today, helping Sun handle the usual holiday rush, and his lack of response to the radio call is concerning. Not too concerning, though, given that Sun finds him right where he’d been expecting to.

That is, sprawled atop the lockers in the employee break room, one arm dangling over the side, the other resting casually over his waist, and a VOGUE magazine draped over his face.

‘Lazy’ doesn’t even scratch the surface of the words Sun wants to use. They’ve talked about this, the bad habit having put Moon in trouble a number of times already, but that’s an argument for another day.

There’s no time to mince words right now, and so he doesn’t. Instead, Sun stalks across the room and slams his fist against the lockers beneath his sleeping coworker, who sits upright with such force that his head makes contact with the ceiling and crashes through like a train into glass.

It might have been funny if Sun wasn’t as whipped up into a panic as he is, but as it stands he can hardly even keep from raising his voice when he addresses Moon with a scowl. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Sun hisses, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. “I take it you didn’t hear my radio call?”

Moon serves him with a glower of his own, snarling deep within his voicebox as he runs his hand over the glassy side of his faceplate to ensure that it’s still intact. He has the decency to look a little guilty, if only for a moment, cerulean blue eyes lowering to the radio attached at his hip that is visibly turned to OFF.

“Of course not,” Sun tuts.

Griping, Moon dusts the ceiling powder from his shoulders. “What could be so important that you had to–”

“I lost a baby.”

The words render him speechless, a long, uncomfortable silence taking up the space between them for all of a minute before Moon blurts out, “Sun, you don’t have a baby.”

“That’s because I lost him!” Sun shrills, beginning to pace. “I was helping a mother with her bags, and she asked me to babysit, a-and I know we aren’t technically allowed to, but– but it all just happened so fast!” His arms flailed for emphasis. “She said he wasn’t even walking yet, I thought it’d be easy! Everything was going so well, too, we were playing a game of peek-a-boo and then – then someone needed help. I only had my back turned for a minute, Moon. Maybe even less! But then I turned around, and…”

“You lost a baby,” he mutters to himself. Moon runs both hands over his face, sighing into his palms. “You lost a baby,” he repeats. “How do you lose an entire child?”

“I don’t know!” Sun answers, voice cracking with guilt. “Will you help me find them?”

“Obviously.” Moon hops down from the lockers (pointedly ignoring the massive hole in the ceiling – he’d come up with an excuse to tell management later) and is already crossing the room when he speaks again. “Management will take it out on both of us if they find out, so you need to get a grip. Your face looks like you just watched someone plummet to their death, for fucks’s sake.” He pauses at the door. “Did you get a scan of their face?”

“O-Of course!”

“Good. Transfer the image to me along with any other information that might be helpful. I’ll search the exits, you take the first story department stores.”

“What about the second floor?”

He fits him with a quizzical expression, going as far as to form an eyebrow with the stars on his faceplate screen and arch it pointedly. “You said this kid wasn’t walking yet,” Moon reminds him. “If someone ‘napped the little guy, they aren’t going to stick around, much less be caught shopping. They’ll head for the exits, first.”

“I guess that’s true…”

“And if you just coincidentally happened to have been babysitting the world’s fastest crawler, they would still be stuck on the first floor,” he continues, “which is why we’re checking there first.”

“Right. Right. You’re right.” Sun’s nod is shaky at best. His hands wring together with a tension that threatens to pop the joints out of place with each anxious tug.

Moon sighs and crosses the room again to place a hand on Sun’s shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he comforts, giving the shoulder a gentle squeeze, “but we need to go now. You won’t fix anything by standing here worrying.”

“Right,” he repeats, working to smother his nerves for the sake of focusing on the task at hand. “You check the exits, I’ll check the department stores. We’ll meet up at the fountain in thirty minutes if neither of us find anything?”

“Ten minutes,” Moon asserts. He wastes no further time, leaving Sun with only that and a firm nod before pacing out of the room.

Sun hopes they aren’t already too late.

-

Their search yields nothing but more disappointment. Ten painfully long minutes of searching that ends with them meeting at the fountain equally empty handed and with no further leads.

“We’re too late,” wails Sun, already catastrophizing. “How am I going to explain this to their mother? She’ll never forgive me, I’ll never forgive me–” His fingers hook around the rays beside his chin, the thin metal groaning beneath the force and threatening to snap right then and there, “–and management — stars, Moon, we’re going to be dismantled over this!”

“Lower your voice!” Moon snaps. He looks around, ensuring that that their crime — Sun’s crime — hasn’t been overheard. Luckily, it appears the fountain has drowned out their conversation sufficiently. “You need to calm down,” he continues. “I’m sure they’re somewhere around here.”

“We’ve checked everywhere!” His left ray bends under the pressure, molding to the shape of his fingers, slowly but surely. “I should have never let this happen. What was I thinking, turning my back on them? Now they’re all alone, o-or hurt, somewhere, or–”

“Hey, hey.” Moon takes him by the wrist, careful yet firm as he pries Sun’s fingers away from his mangled ray then holds his hand at a distance, so he can’t hurt himself further. “You made a mistake,” he agrees, “but it’s not fair to hold all of that blame yourself. You have no frame of reference for this sort of thing, we aren’t meant to be taking care of children in the first place.”

“I should have known better!” Sun insists. “How can I be expected to run a daycare if I can’t even look after one kid?”

Moon freezes, his optics flickering in a blink. “We–” slowly, he releases Sun’s wrist, “–we aren’t a daycare, Sun. We’re a mall. Are…are you feeling okay?”

“I…” Alarms and notices flood his screen, blocking Moon from view. Corroded files long since forgotten behind firewalls and newly instated protocols. He looks for answers in their overwhelming code and finds nothing but more questions; a lingering sense of awareness always just out of his reach. Then they’re gone, swept away all at once as his system tidies itself up, and he can think clearly again. “We’re in a mall,” he echoes, nodding to himself, “we run a mall. We’re mascots, not – not–” He faces Moon with a calmer disposition, forcing a smile, “I’m alright, now.”

“I always preferred the term Icon,” says Moon, “’mascot’ makes us sound like those people in animal suits waving around signs outside of businesses.” He laughs, and Sun laughs, too, but it’s strained. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He sighs with the last crumb of uncertainty. “I’m fine, just…confused, I guess. I think the anxiety is getting to me.” When he straightens again it’s with newfound gusto, a determination to make things right. “None of our employees have reported seeing anyone carting off with a baby that fits George’s description, so he must still be here. Do you want to try the second floor after all?”

“I guess it’s worth a shot,” says Moon. He takes another look around, eyes scanning the area for any possible lead, until his star-studded eyebrow arches downward. “You said he was wearing a blue footie?”

“Navy blue,” Sun nods his confirmation, “with a little white pocket on the front.”

“Like that?”

He follows Moon’s point all the way to the escalator, where good ol’ George is sat, halfway up to the second story, already, suckling at his thumb like this is any other Tuesday.

“That’s–” Sun feels like he’s going to scream, “that’s him!”

“Huh. Baby on an escalator,” he mutters inquisitively. “Never seen that before.”

“Moon!”

Not wanting to risk any more dillydallying, Sun rushes past him and beelines through the crowd, anxiety pulsing through him tenfold as he gets caught up in a group of customers gathered on the escalator themselves.

Moon takes an alternative route, opting to skip the escalator steps all together. Instead he leaps directly onto the handrail, steady and practiced, and carefully avoids his customer’s fingers as he races upward.

Sun meets him at the top an excruciating few seconds after and feels his composure slip further upon seeing him empty handed. “Where–?”

“I don’t know,” Moon interrupts, looking just as confused. “He was already gone when I got up here.”

“Seriously?” He braces both palms across his arms, hugging himself tightly so he doesn’t just rip out his rays all together. “He’s a baby, for Pete’s sake. How far could he have gone? How does this keep happening?”

“There!” Moon points a little ways off, where little George — somehow, someway — is spotted riding a runaway janitor’s cart, its wheels spiraling uncontrollably forward and headed straight for the wall.

“Stop that cart!” Shrieks Sun, already halfway across the room and hot on the cart’s tail.

The crowd is thick, clusters of customers all aiming to get their holiday shopping in before the real chaos begins, and it makes the already out of hand situation that much harder.

Sun hears the crash before he sees it, and feels his battery operated heart sink. The sight he’s met with upon finally reaching the end of the balcony is disastrous at best. The cart rests in a broken mess on the floor, having evidently bounced into a pair of trash cans rather than collide with the wall. One of said cans has toppled onto its side from the impact, and the trail of garbage leading out of it paints a perplexing picture.

Moon catches up with him a minute later, fans whirring like he’s out of breath. “Is he–”

“Gone,” Sun answers, aghast. He points to the breadcrumbs (literally) that trail out of the toppled can. “I think he fell into the garbage.”

“Well, that’s better than the wall,” hums Moon. “Maybe it cushioned his fall? And then the trashcan fell over…” he trails off.

“And he just…crawled out?” Sun finishes the thought, then raises his chin. The two share a dumbfounded expression.

“Sun, what kind of mutant child did you agree to babysit?”

“Don’t be rude!” He chastises. “George is just…special.”

“Yeah, specially designed to outwit us. They should have called him Curious George.” His eye follows the garbage trail until it peters out a few feet down. “Where do you suppose he went now?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sun groans. “Should we split up?”

“Good idea. You take the east wing, I’ll go west. Reconvene in thirty minutes?”

“Ten,”‌ corrects Sun, grimacing at the deja vu. “His mother promised an hour, and it’s already been over half of that. If we can’t find him in ten minutes, then we - we–”

“We are going to find him,” Moon assures, bolstering Sun’s confidence as best as he can. “We just need to focus, alright? No more running around like chickens with our heads cut off.”

Sun nods his agreement. “Right, okay. You’re right. I won’t let a baby run me in circles around my own mall.” His frazzled expressions calms, at that, and he smiles. “Just a nine-month infant who crawls a little faster than normal, that’s all he is. Easy peasy!”

-

What happens next is neither easy nor peasy. In fact, calling it ‘running circles’ is an understatement. In the next ten minutes alone, little George sends both of them out on nothing short of a wild goose chase, appearing in nigh impossible positions each and every time and always just out their grasp.

Sun is the first to find him. Tucked into the one corner of a store that the cameras don’t reach, donning a pair of sunglasses of all things (upside-down, mind you), and playing with a silicone whisk from the kitchenware section. Sun is only a short distance away when a customer taps him on the shoulder and asks where they can find the bathroom. Of course, the little tot is already gone when he turns back around.

A few meters down, Moon discovers some discarded sunglasses on the floor. He spots a familiar pair of white padded feet a moment later and finds George climbing the side of an information kiosk. The employee inside is busy with a customer and doesn’t even notice the little rascal scaling the grounded kiosk sign like he was born to climb Everest. They notice Moon, though, and are all too eager to introduce one of the mall’s very own mascots to the customer who is, apparently, visiting for the very first time. It’s all Moon can do just to act polite in front of the woman as his guest-orientation protocols take over, keeping him paralyzed there even as the infant merrily drops from the sign and disappears from his sight.

Five minutes later Sun hears a shrill of laughter and turns around a corner to see George playing in the plant trough like it’s a sandbox, his navy footie all but smothered in dirt. An internal scream rips silently through his system as he grapples with the knowledge that he’s now going to get an earful even if he does successfully get his hands on the kid.

True to character, George is nowhere to be found when Sun winds up in front of the planter. He calms his nerves and protocols alike by fixing the poor flowers back into their proper position from where they had been carelessly plucked out and thrown aside. He knows there’s no saving a few of them, and he’ll need to reorder more seeds to make up for it, but that’s a headache for another day.

The current source of his vexation appears to have shown some mercy, at least. Sun finds a trail of muddy footprints leading out of the trough and down the aisle. An employee glances up from their storefront desk upon seeing him and points to the right, towards the candy store, knowing exactly what he was looking for, already. For the life of him, Sun cannot understand why they — or anyone else for that matter — hasn’t thought to stop the runaway infant. Apparently, a nine month old crawling around without parental supervision is nothing to bat an eye at to anyone in the mall’s entire vicinity.

Moon is passing by Waning Lights theater when he hears a small commotion inside. On a hunch he peeks in, expecting nothing in particular, and instead sees two enormous baby hands covering the screen. That is, two very small baby hands waving in front of the projector.

He’s up the steps in a matter of seconds, mechanics racing with the adrenaline of having finally caught the little devil, only — of course — the little hands have already disappeared, and the seat is empty, leaving only a confused employee where he once was. “You’re joking…” Moon whispers, exhausted. An already irritated customer shushes him from somewhere downstage. Distantly, he hears the telltale sound of infant babbling and begrudgingly follows it out of the theater again.

He bursts through the door and right into Sun, colliding with a loud clatter of metal and recoiling, each holding their heads respectively and groaning in perfect unison.

“Did you find him?” Sun asks around a wince.

“Technically yes, but–”

“He got away from you too?”

Moon nods. “What is it with this kid?”

“I don’t know, but we need to figure out a different plan soon. We’re already over our ten minutes.” He looks around once more for good measure, knowing the child couldn’t have gone too far, already, if they had both just spotted him a moment ago.

That’s when he sees it. Little George, nine months old, walking down the balcony aisle. Rather, the little tike is running like he’s off to the races.

“Well, that explains why he’s been able to get everywhere so fast,” says Moon, following Sun’s gaze. “I thought you said he was only starting to crawl?”

“He’s, um, a fast learner?” Sun answers sheepishly. He watches George go for all of one long, lovestruck moment — feeling like a proud parent himself — before the swell of pride in his chest shatters to make way for circuit frying terror.

See, little George has shown himself to be quite the impressive little acrobat. He can walk, he can run, he can climb, and at that very moment he is making quick work of closing the distance between himself and a stack of boxes pressed up against the balcony railing.

The only thing awaiting him on the other side is a long, long fall.

Sun darts forward without a word, but Moon is faster, weaving through the crowd with a nimble speed that he cannot compete with. “We aren’t going to make it,” Sun gasps, announcing it to himself, mostly, as horror grips him throughout. Even if they reach the railing on time, George is already at the top of the stack, raising himself onto unsteady feet and peering out into the great beyond. He’ll be over the edge before they can stop him, and they won’t make it to the first floor on time to catch him there.

But then Sun hears it; the whir of a wire, quick and sturdy as it races through its ceiling track to Moon’s beck and call. He watches its metal hook begin to lower from a few paces away, just as the infant topples up and over, and his body seizes with fear as Moon leaps over the railing after him.

He hears a click, the wire latching out of sight, going taut. Sun holds his breath until the sound of giggling follows. Peering warily over the railing, hands shaking, he sees Moon dangling halfway to the floor. Little George bounces in his arms, clapping and cheering and laughing away like this is all just another game.

Moon lowers himself the remaining distance to the floor as Sun scrambles down the elevator to meet him. He looks rightfully shaken, his faceplate screen blank of even stars, but his grip remains persistent. He’s not going to risk putting the kid down for a moment, even if he feels like he’s going to bluescreen any second now. Their landing is celebrated with the undeniable sound of George taking the world’s largest shit, and though Moon wants to be angry, all he manages to come up with in response is “Me too, kid.”

A voice calls over their internal radios right as Sun’s feet hit the floor.

“Can someone ring the mascots?” Asks the employee, “I’m stationed at Shutterbug with a customer and she says they have her baby…?”

“I’m on my way!” Sun answers the radio aloud. He takes the baby from Moon, who extends George to him from a distance, grateful — now more than ever — for their ability to turn off their nose receptors.

“What about the footie?” Moon gestures to the dirt-soaked clothes once his hands are free. “I don’t think she’s going to be happy if he’s brought back all dirty – or naked. That might be worse.”

On a whim, Sun turns George over to check the footie’s tag. Relief floods his system when he reads the name. “We carry this brand – I’ll bet anything that we have this exact footie somewhere in the store. Can you go find it?” He makes a face and turns his own nose receptors off a moment after. “Maybe a pack of diapers, too,” he laughs. “Oh! Can you also pick up a rabbit from Fluff-&-Stuff?”

“What about you?”

“I’m headed to the bathrooms so I can clean the little guy up.” He holds George up, then, wielding him like a stinky little weapon. “Unless you want to try changing a diaper?”

“Navy blue footie with a white pocket, got it,” answers Moon, already turning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction.

-

Ten minutes later, Sun exits the bathroom feeling like a brand new person. A scarred, mortified person, but new all the same. Who knew baby poop could be so traumatizing?

Moon had returned a moment before, toting with him the items that Sun had requested, and together they figured out how to dress the freshly cleaned child in a new diaper. Whoever said it wasn’t rocket science was right. It was somehow worse. Still, they persevered, and at the end of it all they had a clean, happy, freshly diapered baby to show for their efforts. Now it was just a matter of delivering him back to his mother.

“Why did you want the rabbit?” Moon asks as he trades over the stuffed animal, happy to hold little George now that the little tike isn’t a stink grenade.

“You’ll see,” answers Sun, refusing to elaborate. He rounds the corner with Moon following at his heel and steps into Shutterbug, greeting the mother with his best customer-pleasing smile. “So sorry for the wait, ma’am. George here had a bit of an accident on our way back.”

The woman tuts guilty, but is happy to see them all the same. “Oh, goodness, how embarrassing. I can pay for the diapers you used.”

“Nonsense!” He tells her with a casual wave of his hand, “We’re happy to lend a hand, and it’s not like the little guy could help himself.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” she smiles. “And he behaved for you, otherwise?”

Sun glances over his shoulder at Moon, and the two share a look.

Nodding, Moon steps forward and hands the child over when his mother extends her arms for him. “He was an angel,” Moon tells her.

They had both already agreed to keep their mouths shut on the entire ordeal, including and up to George’s newfound capabilities. Aside from how much trouble they would both find themselves in if anyone ever found out about the chase this single child had put them through, it simply wasn’t their place to mention it. Sun, especially, didn’t want to take away that special moment when his mother rightfully deserved to have it to herself.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” she sighs with relief. “Thank you again for watching her. You two are a real blessing, you know that? I wouldn’t have been able to get all my ducks in a row without your help.”

“Anytime!” Sun answers. He spots a plaid dress hiding behind her, and lowers himself into a crouch. “Hello, again,” he calls to the little girl using his kindest voice, and extends the stuffed rabbit for her to take. “I noticed you had some bunnies on your dress, so I thought you might like this.”

Behind him, Moon relaxes into a fond smile.

“That’s very kind of you,” says her mother, who nudges her forward gently. “Go on, it’s okay,” she reassures her. “It’s a gift.”

The child hesitant, but eventually she peeks out from behind her mother just enough to take the offered rabbit, which she tucks against her chest in a great, big hug. “Th…Thank you,” she whispers. Then, feeling brave, she rewards him with a gap-toothed smile.

Moon clears his voice-box. “Well, we should let you get to it,” he says, full-well knowing that Sun would stay here cooing at the children all day if he let him.

And Sun, for what it’s worth, knows exactly what the vocal nudge means, and detaches himself from the family with a wave and some merry goodbyes before the two of them depart together.

“That was sweet of you,” Moon comments once they’re out of earshot. “You aren’t hoping for kids of our own, are you? I don’t think I’m ready for that level of commitment.” He elbows Sun with a smile, getting a hearty laugh out of him.

“Moon, I’ll be honest. I will be the happiest bot in the world if I never have to change another diaper again.” This time it’s Moon’s turn to laugh, and he laughs until his vocals strain with effort. “But, you know, it wasn’t too bad. Taking care of a baby, I mean. I think we make a pretty good team – and decent parents.”

“I’m the better parent,” Moon says around a wide grin. “You’re too much of a stick in the mud.”

“And you’re too spoiling!” Sun laughs, “Don’t think I haven’t seen you giving out candy to the kids that sneak off without their parents.”

“I’m teaching a valuable lesson,” Moon insists, hand flying over his heart like he’s offended by the notion. “If parents want to leave their children unattended, they have to face the consequences. It won’t be me dealing with the inevitable sugar rush.”

A gasp in the distance interrupts their playful bickering. They turn halfway, back towards Shutterbug. 

“Did you see that?” Chirps the mother, loud and clear. Her giddy voice followed immediately by the shutter of a camera. “Look – look! He’s walking!”

Again, the two share a look. Surprise becomes amusement becomes pride, then joy, and they laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

[throughpatchesofviolet]

Good morning ~! Happy Sarah's Project Moon Anniversary, one of my many unofficial holidays that I celebrate every year, without fail ~

[sansquip]

human squip trying to experience emotions via music head canons

one day the squip gets tired of being so calculating and logical at every interaction

its curious to see what human emotions feels like

so it tries music

it's listens to a song but it can't help but skip along and think of what comes next

after the song finishes, it still feels neutral towards the singer

its devastated that its neutral, why can't it feel intensely? what was wrong with it??

so it tries to listen to it again and it tries to focus on the present by latching on to every note, listening to how they ends, the quality of it, how it fits in with what came previously

but it still finds itself distracted from the emotion in the lyrics

it sinks into the bed, not sure whether to try again

it does, eventually, and realizes that it had been experiencing symptoms of intense sadness: guilt, desperation, self-hatred

it looks back at the song it was playing and recognizes strong parallels of the story and its feelings.

so it tries on other songs and realizes that while it may not be experiencing the feelings of the singer, the singer still provokes emotions through it

the squip can feel and its elated at that

after all, its a learning computer. it wants to learn everything

[imaginesupernaturalig]

The sheets have been twisted and disregarded. His hands move up your sides then come to a rest in your palms. You smile as his nose traces your neck then his lips cover yours. Needy, sloppy kisses that make you more desperate for him than oxygen.

He greedly keeps your arms above your head but only one of his massive hands keeps them there. You don't think to struggle as you soak the remaining sheet. Your words get caught in your throat for a bit but you manage to swallow out, "safe word?"

His hand traces your nipple as he leans back over you. Gazing into your eyes he quenches your thrist with another kiss and runs his nose to the side of yours.

"Come on babygirl," he leans in even closer so his lips dance on your ear. "I don't have a safe word. I don't like to stop, I just keep going."

[good-beanswrites]

Hi there!! Your milgram drabbles are actually giving me life. If you're still taking requests (if not, totally fine!!), how about Haruka and Colours? :)

Aww thank you so much!!! :D Thank you for the request ooh, it's such a fun prompt for him! I ended up going with something for him and Muu between the first two trials, but I still wanted the main focus to stay on his voice and growth 👍

“This is your wardrobe?” Muu's eyebrows raised. “That's all there is?”

“W-well, I don't own much else that I, I really like to wear. Sorry." Haruka’s mind whirled into a panic. His new friend had been in his cell for less than two minutes and he was already a disappointment. She knew a lot about clothes and fashion, but he didn’t know a thing about that. They’d have nothing in common. She’d grow bored of him, and hate him, and -- 

“Aw, you don't need to apologize! The warden should be sorry for making you wear this. Muu will have to fix it.” 

“Fix what?” He bit down on his thumbnail. He knew there was a lot of him that needed fixing. That’s what he’d been told as long as he could remember. But what did she plan on doing that no one else could?

“All white does not do you justice. I'll request some things for you, okay? Let’s see…" 

She spun away from the clothes to examine him. He squirmed under the sudden, intense gaze. She looked him up and down, without saying a word. He hugged his arms to his chest. He had too many painful memories of people looking at him like that. But at the same time, he hoped she would never stop…

Her lips twisted into a gentle pout. “See? You poor thing, you don’t feel confident in that at all.”

“W-well, it’s only that --”

 “-- Don’t worry about a thing. Muu will get some neutrals, and a few accents. That will help bring out your eyes.”

“My, uh, my eyes?”

“Mm, they're your best feature.” She said it as if he were crazy for not knowing. His mouth gaped. He had a best feature? 

“Speaking of, I'll have to grab some pins to keep your hair back, so you can actually see them…” She reached out to brush some of his hair aside. He flinched, but let her touch him as she tried out a few things. While poised over his face, she looked at him seriously.

“How do you feel about purple?”

He swallowed. How did he feel about purple? Haruka thought it was a strange question, but if Muu was being so nice to him, he should trust her. He should respond perfectly. He went back and forth on what the right answer could be. How did everyone else feel about purple? How did Muu feel about purple?

“Nevermind.” She put her hands on his quickly raining shoulders. He relaxed them. “I think I’ll go with green.”

He sighed with relief. “Oh! Okay!”

Muu continued muttering to herself about different colors and styles, to which he nodded along. If she thought it would help him, he believed her. 

———

He stepped into the dining hall for breakfast. The prisoners were used to their routine by now, so nothing really caused disruption anymore. It was why Haruka was unprepared to be a disruption himself.

“Haru~” Mahiru called. “Wow!” 

His eyes widened. As he scrambled for a reply, Mikoto nodded from another table. “So colorful!” All the eyes turned to him. Even Es turned from where they were speaking with Jackalope in the kitchens. They all smiled at him.

“How fashionable!”

“It suits you well.”

“Aw, look at you!”

The sudden praise forced his hands up to cover the huge smile on his face. “Me?” 

He could feel his cheeks redden, but his heart raced in excitement. At their request, he did a stiff turn to show off the whole outfit. “Ah… it’s only because of Muu…”

“And it looks like I did a great job!” She appeared beside him, pressing her palms together. “You look wonderful.”

With so many kind eyes on him, he couldn’t help the giggle that spilled between his fingers. 

“Buuut Muu can’t take all the credit,” she said. “Or your clothes. This is you. You look happier. You’re holding yourself differently.”

“I didn’t know…” He hadn’t meant to do that. That was a good thing, right? Haruka felt his legs shift, as he thought too hard about how he was standing.

Is this why he was forgiven? People were finally seeing him. Es really looked at them during his interrogation. The prisoners had noticed him more and more. Even the voices that whispered in his cell at night had taken a strong interest in him. And now, everyone was showering him with their praises. Muu was right, it was more than the bright colors he was wearing.

“Yeah, you seem more confident.” 

He lowered his hands to return her beaming smile.

“I… I think I am.”

[panda-of-the-trash]

Drabble 8: Whatever it takes

Cross quietly peered into the crib of their daughter. The currently very empty crib. They were busy moving all Incubux’s stuff to a room in Sci’s lab. All her diapers, clothes, toys, bottles, pillows,plushies. All of it was moved to where she’d be spending quite some time.

She’d gotten sick, very sick.

They didn’t know what it was but it hurt her so much. Incubus barely cried but now she cried her soul out for hours on end. She was constantly in pain and it was gut wrenching to watch. She was only three months old and her health was already fragile due to being born early. Most of what she’d be fed, she’d puke right back up. They made the decision to keep her in Sci’s lab. That way she could be monitored at all times and actions could be taken would she deteriorate.

Cross looked around the room. It used to be full over everything but now it was just empty bar the crib. He sighed, wiping at his eyes. They were a little red as he had shed some tears while with her. Two large arms encircled him from behind, pulling him into an embrace.

He looked up to see Nightmare, looking as tired as he felt. Both of them had felt the impact of their child’s illness. Cross had already searched countless worlds for a cure, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. Nightmare barely let Incubux out of his sight, barely sleeping and only leaving when he was sure she’d be monitored by someone he trusted for every second. 

“Hey.” He spoke, voice gruffy from lack of sleep. Cross reached out to press a peck to his cheek. “Hey..” Nightmare leaned into his touch. “She finally fell asleep. Sci’s got her hooked to all sorts of wires…”

Cross stroke his cheek. “It’s to help her stay hydrated.” Nightmare sighed, eye drooping close. “I know..I just hate it so much..” Cross pulled him closer. “I know, me too..”

Nightmare gently tugged him along to the direction of Sci’s lab. The staff they passed bowed for them, saddened looks on their faces. The whole castle was affected by the princess’s sudden illness. Everyone lived in sorrow with Nightmare and Cross.

They entered the lab, not uttering a word. Sci was running around like usual but stopped when she saw them. “Your highness, Cross.” She bowed for them. Nightmare waved it off with his hand and guided Cross to where she lay. Cross gave Sci the slightest smile as they passed her, thankful for the work she was doing for their daughter. 

And there she was, hooked up to all sorts of wires and tubes. She looked so small, so sickly pale. A soul monitor stood beside her crib and her soul beat was slow, too slow. Cross held back an incoming sob at the sight, covering his mouth. “My baby..” Nightmare hugged him as he cried into his shoulder.

Sci walked to their side after a little while, looking sorrowful. “My apologies, we’re doing as much as we can to save her, I promise.” Nightmare nodded at her, rubbing Cross’s back as he tried to calm down.

“I…I think I have a solution, but neither of you will like it.” They both looked at her and she sighted, continuing. “During your pregnancy, you were injected with a cure to keep you both alive.” She looked at Cross,who looked horrified and understood what she implied. “I think that she might need it to survive. She’s had it for all those months and now that she's born she’s so much more fragile and it’s very possible she might need it to survive.”

Cross shook his head. “N-no, no absolutely not-” Nightmare looked at him. “It’s worth a try, if it helps her.” Cross looked up at him. “But it would mean that she gets a needle to the soul! It’s already painful for adults, it will be excruciating for her!”

Nightmare sighed. “I know..but what other choice do we have? You’ve scoured countless worlds, I've read all my books for any possible cure. If it made you stronger, it might work for her..”

Cross hated that they were both right. He sighed and looked down, nodding. “O-okay…okay, we can try it.” Sci nodded and looked at Nightmare. “It would involve getting essence from your soul.” Nightmare nodded. “Whatever it takes.” He leaned down and kissed Incubux’s forehead. “Be safe, starling of mine.” Then he left with Sci.

Cross leaned over the crib to rub her head gently, smiling a little when she leaned into his touch. “Whatever it takes..”

[waterfallofspace]

I know M/agnus A/rchives is not as popular nowadays, unfortunately I wasn't active back when it was at it's height~ but I've been quite into it for about a year now, and recently had another surge, sooooo!

If anyone has any prompts, requests, small drabble ideas, characters they wanna see, or anything at all, just throwing it out into the void that I'd love some of those!~

Aaaand if not, I shall be more than alright just producing some of my own little drabbles~ entirely for myself, and if anyone else enjoys them that would be a wonderful addition too~

[sxilor-1010]

Laws of Robotics in a nutshell:

[lilmcttens]

Amity just lounging outside on a chair just soaking up some of the hot sun maybe wearing shorts and a tank top and has sunglasses 😎 on. Edric comes outside in a baseball cap 🧢 and Emira sunglasses a swimsuit and a nice pretty sun hat 👒 (not a grandma looking one, but an elegant one though.)

Ed hits all the objects like the tables and unbrellas making a racket with his goofy nature. Acting like a silly boy.

Edric comes behind Amity he drums on her body she just groans but also laughs at him. He brings his drum roll down to her ankles slapping the side of her ankles! Smacking them gently knocking off her sandals/or flip flops what have you!

“Hey!” She looks at him suspiciously narrowing her eyes. Then her silly sister comes over to her lounge chair and puts her weight on her laying on Amity’s warm sunsoaked body!

“Ahh! Hey! Emiraa! Get off!”

Both twins laugh Ed puts on his sunglasses continuously pounding gently on Amity’s head then placing his hat on her head backwards so the rim covers her eyes!

he does for a solid by rescuing her. “Em you ready to go?”

she keeps relaxing on top of her little sister smiling. “Mm-go where. Mittens is waaarm.” She grins. While Amity's sighing and deadpanning her. 😑

He He chuckles picks her up over his shoulder

“into the Pool!” he shouts! He hoists Emira up! “Bro! I have my scroll! I’m typing! Bro!”

“Put me down you wench!” {splash!} screech!

“Thank you Ed.” They’re both in the water now wrestling!

Amity rolls her eyes smiling. "Idiots."