#so after i managed to connect with them i was like ????

[shomatoriashi]

02/03/25; 10:55pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

anonymous said: hii. Can i get awkward moments during sex with the boys? 🙈

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

warnings: slight voyeurism with rafayel’s.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the way sylus kept hitting that special part deep inside of you made you see stars, increasing your pleasure by a tenfold. the sounds of his cock steadily sliding in and out of your heat echoes throughout the room, and you felt so full of him-

a strange, tightening sensation travels throughout your abdomen, making you cry out when you felt an intense climax washing over you, your release wetting his cock profusely as sylus’s hips stutters in response.

his eyes go wide when he sees the copious amounts of your fluid traveling down the length of his cock, managing to drip down onto the bed as you felt the pinpricks of embarrassment coursing through your veins.

it takes sylus a few moments to gather his thoughts, realization dawning on him just mere seconds later when he asks with a low drawl, “did you just squirt on my cock?”

your stutters of mortification echoes through the room, earning a rich chuckle from sylus when he picks you up, gripping at your backside as he slots his cock even deeper into your now soaked heat, “by all means, there’s no need to be embarrassed, kitten. in fact, i’d very much like it if you did it over and over again throughout the night.”

zayne had you pinned against the hotel wall, fucking himself into your heat after finishing a lecture at his conference. the way you had constantly teased him with your skin tight dress while clinging to his arms was enough to make the doctor lose the last bit of his self control.

the moment you both return to your room, zayne pounced on you, not even waiting to take off his glasses as he pulled down his dress pants and boxers, shoving your panties to the side before sheathing himself within your slick folds.

as he thrusts himself against you, his glasses kept getting in the way each time you tried to kiss him. feeling frustrated, you quickly grab at his glasses, tossing them aside in the midst of your lovemaking.

momentarily confused as his eyes tried to adjust to the view without the clarity of his glasses. while he moves forward without breaking his connection with you, you felt your eyes go wide when you heard the sound of a loud crack! beneath zayne’s feet.

you met with zayne’s gaze, an apology on the tip of your tongue when you felt your lover suddenly pin you to the bed, pumping his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace that takes your very breath away.

“that was quite the expensive prescription glasses you made me break, honey. perhaps i should punish you by not holding back anymore?”

you cling to xavier, basking in the way he held you tightly within his embrace. feeling so desperate for each other, xavier carries you to your shared bedroom, tossing aside your clothes before setting your form on the bed.

with his gaze darkened fully with desire for you, xavier quickly sheds off his clothes until he was just as bare as you, spreading your legs before completely sheathing himself inside of your slick folds-

however, the intensity of his thrust forces the top of your head to meet with your headboard, making you cry out as you let out a groan of pain. filled with panic now, xavier quickly slides out of you, his cock already softening due to the guilt of potentially hurting you.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to hurt you…” his hands immediately try to soothe the ache felt on top of your head, earning a soft hiss from you. it takes you a few moments to reorient yourself, but once your head slowly began to stop pounding did you push xavier on his back.

“that really hurt.” you pout at him, yet instead of allowing xavier to tell you how sorry he was, you interrupt him by grabbing a hold of his limp cock, slowly stroking him back to full hardness while basking in his groans of your name, “as punishment, i’ll be the one in charge for the night.”

you tried to convince rafayel to behave during your museum date-

yet he seemed to have had other plans when he traps you behind one of the walls, hands already sliding up the skirt of your dress, “it’s your fault for getting me all riled up, princess.”

he smiles sweetly down at you, already knowing that you could never resist him when he pulls down your panties, allowing it to hang on your ankle as he lifts up one of your legs. he had merely unbuttoned his slacks, allowing his erection to peek through his boxers before impaling your cunt with his cock.

you toss your head back at the sudden intrusion, trying to keep your voice even as rafayel swiftly pumps himself in and out of you. as you became caught up in the moment, you heard a series of loud voices echoing throughout the exhibit. people had came directly into the area where you and your spoiled boyfriend were fucking, your eyes going wide as rafayel stops his rapid thrusting.

“oh the art is so lovely here, dear.” an older woman’s voice echoes throughout the exhibit, making rafayel smirk as he leans in to whisper within your ear, “relax princess, no one is gonna even notice us.”

as the older couple began to talk about the various art pieces on display, rafayel continues his rapid thrusts in and out of you. he covers your mouth with his large hand, and you could hear footsteps coming closer to where you and rafayel were hidden.

“dear, what’s that strange… wet sound? is there a potential leak somewhere?”

“ah, indeed, we should alert the curator of this. it would be a shame to see such wonderful works be ruined by the moisture.”

by now, rafayel was practically grinning at you, continuing his steady pace as the sounds of footsteps slowly walking away eased your anxieties, making you cum directly on rafayel’s cock, the sensation of your walls clamping down on him causes him to shoot his seed deep inside of you.

“heh, what a naughty princess you are, getting off by the thought of getting caught.” the lemurian had a smug grin on his handsome features, still very much connected to you as you could feel his seed running down the length of your thighs.

even when you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks-

you found yourself unable to deny his claims.

caleb had managed to trap you in his bed, pounding himself in and out of your heat, his mouth clamping down on his dog tag necklace to keep it from moving too much. as your moans and gasps echo throughout the room caleb’s phone was heard going off in the middle of his passionate lovemaking.

he clicks his tongue, and before you could even stop him, caleb removes his necklace from his teeth and answers the call, using his free hand to keep the phone pressed against his ear while continuing to fuck you with his cock. “yes?”

“colonel?”

“speaking.”

you let out a whimper when he listens to his colleague on the other line, forcing caleb to place his hand over your mouth before moving against you once more. your breasts continue to bounce in tune to his rapid movements, unsure of why he could be so calm while you remained an utter mess for him.

you were dimly aware of all the military jargon caleb said throughout the phone call while his cock was still nestled so deeply inside of you, making you whimper each time his hips met with yours in an almost bruising thrust as he made quick work of finishing his call.

“just place the reports on my desk. i’ll see you at 0600 sharp tomorrow.” with that final phrase, caleb tosses aside his phone before returning his attention back to you, “sorry about that, baby… that won’t happen again. now, let your man take care of you.” he had barely began pumping his dick in and out of you when you felt your release quickly approaching-

something about witnessing caleb doing mundane tasks while he fucks your brain out causes a new rush of pleasure to course through your very veins, making you cry out as you spilled yourself on his cock, earning a grunt of approval from the colonel settled above you.

“that’s my good girl… so pretty and perfect for me.”

end notes: i’m back home bc i miss this blog so much 🙂‍↕️ also, this request was so hot and so much fun to write ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[synvil]

letting go of their hands // rafe cameron & jj maybank

synopsis : you decide to prank them by letting go of their hands while they drive. tiktok trends series.

rafe cameron (☆´3｀)

it was an often small unconscious detail that rafe always did, acting on instinct whenever you two drove together.

even when he’s in the middle of a phone call that’s connected through bluetooth, he speaks from his car just to be able to hold your hand. plus it’s safer than holding a device, don’t text n drive.

the first time would be when he’s on a call, distracted with talking with barry that he doesn’t notice at first.

you had casually opened your hand and slipped out of his hold, placing it on your lap and looking out the window as he talks on the call. it’s only when rafe instinctively flexes his wrist out of a gesture of annoyance while talking, does he realize and curses.

“what the fuck?—“ he interrupts himself and barry scoffs on the other line. “what’s the problem, country club?”

rafe turns his eyes over to you and furrows his brows, reaching over to grab your wrist and brings it to his side, keeping his gaze maintained on the road. “nothing, just somethin’ stupid.”

hearing his words make you smile a bit in amusement and you wait a little longer.

after a little bit, rafe was no longer on call but you two were just driving to finish up some errands together. he occasionally tightens his grip on you unconsciously as he nods his head lightly to the music, before feeling you pull away again. you barely stifle a laugh when you hear rafe click his tongue.

but then rafe suddenly roughly stomps on the brakes, making you lurch forward a tad and a sharp gasp escapes you. “rafe!”

“we’re not fuckin’ moving until you tell me what the problem is.” rafe grunts, his left hand gripping the steering wheel dangerously tight and you widen your eyes, looking around to see if cars were coming. “r-rafe. you can’t do that, cars are going to come!” even if you were just driving down the local road where hardly any cars came.

but the persistent staring tells you he’s not listening and you huff, reaching for his hand. “sorry-sorry, it was just a joke.”

rafe rolls his eyes as he starts the car moving again. “damn right it was.. don’t do that again.”

with that, he brings your hand up and kisses the back of it gently while you exhale heavily, an inevitable smile curling on your lips.

“so sick of your pranks.. you’re lucky i love you.”

jj maybank (⸝⸝⍢⸝⸝) ෆ

the two of you were on a small trip, taking a nice long drive to enjoy each other’s time and presence, whilst picking up some things for john b.

there was a calm silence between you, the sunset glazing onto your skin, an empty road, the windows partially down for a soft breeze and a gentle noise of the radio in the background.

jj rubs soothing circles onto your hand with his thumb and you almost feel bad to do it but find yourself going through with the prank anyway. you barely manage to pull your fingers away when jj stops singing and looks to you. “what’s the matter?”

“hm?” you feign innocence as you glance to him and he furrows his brows, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “baby, what’s wrong? why did you let go?”

your lips curl into a small smile and you shrug. “i dunno, just felt like it.”

jj gives you a weird look before reaching for your hand and holding it firmly in his. “just keep it here.” he pouts and squeezes your hand comfortingly. you almost feel bad for wanting to do it a second time and after a few minutes, you slowly pull your hand aside.

before you could fully pull your hand to your lap, jj pulls over with a huff and reaches into the side of his door and pulls out a roll of duct tape. “j?-“ he doesn’t respond as he pulls a string of the tape out. “w-wait, jayj-!”

startling you, jj starts to tape your hand together with his before bringing the roll to his teeth to rip it and once it tears, he secures it before using his free hand to pull onto the road again.

feeling satisfied and proud of himself, jj grins triumphantly.

“there. now you can’t let go again.”

a/n : so rushed and unedited but hope you enjoy! <3

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Hedgehog, porcupine, it's the same thing (pt.5)"

or "Something made a hole in my backyard pt.5"

Shadow the Hedghog x reader (platonic)

Notes: I finally have connection again!!! This part feels a little of to me but anyway, leave a comment if you want to be in the taglist or leave a comment if you liked it! ENJOY!

Part 4.

It happened so fast that you could barely process it, the creature looked at the room, then at you, then at the window and in a red flash it disappeared.

For only a fraction of a second, because as soon as it disappeared it appeared right back, but now besides your bedroom's window.

It fell to the floor with a thud and you swore you heard it say something.

But that would be ridiculous, animals don't talk.

"What the fu-?" You didn't even finished your question when the thing turned around to look at you.

The room was silent. Everything felt like it was made of very thin glass, and any sudden move coul shatter it all.

You crouched.

You didn´t know if you wanted to make yourself less intimidating or if you just wanted to be able to protect your hole body in case it tried to move again.

And so, you both just looked at each other. It was really the first time you had stopped to look at the creature so closely.

It´s eyes were red, but not just any red, they were crimson like blood on the outer part of the iris with a warmer fire-like red on the center. It had fur which looked super soft covering all of it´s body, but there was something like spikes coming out of it´s head.

Yeahhh, you knew what animal it reminded you of...

"Hey there" you said softly as not to scare it.

"Who are you and where am I?" the creature demanded more than asked.

"Holy shit, you can TALK!!??"

"Where am I? Did G.U.N sent you?" It had now started to get on it´s feet and speak louder, though it still seemed as in pain.

Everything about what was happening felt kind of surreal to you, one thing a little more than anything else.

"Why do you sound like Keanu Reeves?"

"Is that another agent? I will kill you in seconds if you don´t answer my questions" It furrowed something that you assumed were his eyebrows.

But between everything that was happening you suddenly lost balance in your crouching position, and fell on your back. When you managed to sit on the floor you found yourself with the sight of the alienish creature which had also fallen flat on it´s bottom, presumably trying to protect itself from you.

So then you were both sitting in the ground.

"I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot" you started to say, as calmly as you could. "I´m not here to hurt you, you were the one who crashed on my backyard".

It kept on looking at you as if you were going to attack it at any moment, so you decided to give him something more, you told him your name.

"Shadow" It... He answered back, though it felt more as an attempt to get you to shut up than anything. More time passed in silence.

And so you got up, and left.

Shadow just sat there, slightly confused, but soon enough he weakly got on his feet and turned towards the window. He tried to give a step, but all of his muscles ached at it. He felt helpless. He hated feeling helpless, it reminded him of the cryo tube he was kept in for fifty years.

His efforts did not last too long either, as he felt two warm hands pick him up from under his armpits and sit him back down on the bed. Even though he slightly hissed at the pain and tried to fight back his efforts were usless and he found himself comfortably sat against the cushions.

You smiled at him and apologized for any discomfort that you may had caused, then you offered him a pastry (your aunt Maddie had brought them for tea).

He picked one up, and after a troughout examination, which to you kind of looked as a cat smelling something to see if it was food or not, he actually took a bite.

It was actually nice, and it had a slight bitter taste to it.

"So... are you some kind of porcupine?"

"I´m a hedghog and the ultimate life form" He answered back with still looking angry, but his voice had slightly less bite to it. You smiled kindly back as you held back a laugh.

"Hedghog, porcupine, it´s the same thing."

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing

[myalgicpierrot]

plain text: At the weigh-in/ on the morning of March 24th, 1962, the World Welterweight Champ,/ Benny "Kid" Paret,/ called his challenger, Emile Griffith, a maricón -/ Cuban slang for "faggot" -/ and smiled. Emile wanted to knock the Kid out right there./ Gil Clancy, his manager,/ managed to hold him back, told him to "save it for tonight."/ The New York Times/

wouldn't print the correct translation, maintained that Paret had called/ Emile an "unman."/ The sportswriter Howard Tuckner raved against the euphemistic/ copy editors, "A butterfly/ is an unman. A rock is an unman. These lunatics!"/ No one would mention/ the word "homosexual" in connection with a star/ athlete. Another/ journalist, Jimmy Breslin –Irish straight-talker–said,/

"That was what Paret/ was looking to do-get him steamed! If you're going to look for trouble,/ you found it!"/ By the twelfth round, both men had tired./ They clinched, heads ear/ to ear, embracing,/ then punching underneath, whaling away at the other's/ ribs, face. Such/ intimate hostility. As if, could they have spoken to each other/ through plastic mouth guards,/

they would have groaned out curses, endearments, pillow talk./ At the close of the sixth round/ the Kid had landed a combination, ending in a hard right/ to Emile's chin./ He had gone down in his corner for an eight count,/ but got back up/ and started slugging as the bell rang and delivered him/ from an almost certain/ knockout. The crowd had shouted, whistled, roared./

In the black-and-white footage/ of the TV broadcast on YouTube, the referee Ruby Goldstein breaks up/ their clinch. Photographers/ lean in and slide their old-fashioned flashbulb cameras across the ring's/ sweat-spattered/ canvas floor to get a closer shot of the exhausted fighters. Cigarette/ and cigar smoke/ hangs heavy. The announcer Don Dunphy complains, "This is probably/ the tamest round/

of the entire fight." One second later Emile staggers the Kid/ with an overhand right./ "Griffith rocks him." Emile lands twenty-nine punches in eighteen/ seconds. "Paret against/ the ropes, almost hopeless." Emile steps back, winds up, then swings/ to get his full/ body weight into each punch. Eyewitness Norman Mailer, ten feet/ away from the fighters,/ would write that Emile's right hand was/ "whipping like a piston rod/

which had broken through/ the crankcase, or like a baseball bat demolishing a pumpkin."/ The crowd screams,/ frenzied as piranhas stripping in less than half a minute the flesh/ from a cow fallen/ into the river. As Emile hammers the Kid's head with nine straight uppercuts/ in two seconds, so it whips/ back and forth in the slow-motion replay like a ragdoll's head shaken/ by a girl throwing/

a tantrum, one commentator observes,/ "That's beautiful/ camera work,/ isn't it?" Another responds, "Yeah, terrific."/ While Emile mauls/ the Kid with mechanical/ precision, he may be thinking of how the Kid reached out/ and tauntingly patted/ his left buttock, lisping Maricón, maricón, as Emile stood/ stripped down/ to his black trunks on the scales at the weigh-in. Or he may be thinking/

of his job designing ladies'/ hats in the Garment District. Attach that ostrich feather to the brim/ of the blue boater, left hook,/ pile-driver right. Lean into the punch. Put him away. But Paret,/ tangled in the ropes,/ won't go down. Clancy had told him to keep punching until/ the referee separated/ them. Emile doesn't know that the Kid will never regain/ consciousness, will die/

in ten days. He doesn't know that for the rest of his life/ he will have nightmares/ in which he and Paret are marionettes./ Someone jerks his strings. He can't/ stop punching. He will become/ world champ four more times, but will himself be beaten almost/ to death by five young/ homophobes, one with a baseball bat, as he leaves a gay bar near Port/ Authority. He will drive/ a pink Lincoln Continental. After Paret's death, Manny/

Alfaro, the Kid's manager,/ will say, "Now, I have to go find a new boy." His widow,/ Lucy, will bury him/ in the St. Raymond Cemetery in the Bronx./ She will never/ remarry, will tell an interviewer,/ "Dream? I stopped dreaming a long time ago." Boxing matches/ will stop being televised/ for the next decade. Ruby Goldstein will referee only one more fight,/ then retire. Emile/

will suffer dementia pugilistica. He will be forced to sell his Continental/ and will ride the bus,/ he'll say, "like everyone else." Benny Paret, Jr., the Kid's son/ who was two years old/ when Emile killed his dad, will meet and forgive him forty-two years/ later. Lucy/ had refused to go to the Garden or watch the fight on TV./ A neighbor had to tell her./ Across nine million flickering screens nation-wide/

they hoisted the Kid's/ still body onto a stretcher and carried him slowly out of the ring./ Don Dunphy signed off,/ "saying goodnight for your hosts, the Gillette Safety/ Razor Co., makers/ of the $1.95 Adjustable Razor, super blue blades, foamy shaving/ cream, and Right Guard/ Power Spray Deodorant, and El Producto,/ America's largest-selling/ quality cigar."/

-Donald Platt

on trans day of remembrance the community came together to have an event, including this being read by a local poet. and I know all you people will eat it up as much as I did

[shares-a-vest]

I had to give Eddie blonde hair (well, a wig) hehe.

"Tell me, my dearest Christine," Eddie hisses, looking at his reflection in his dressing room mirror, "Why do I need to do this again?"

His gaze narrows in on the dorky, short blonde wig on his head – a monstrosity the hair and makeup artist for today's embarrassing shoot just finished gluing to his skull.

It's mortifying!

God-awful.

A career-ending tuft of piss-yellow cat hair, all for some stupid magazine's stupid 'serious' tell-all interview with his own stupid self.

"Don't worry," Chrissy replies, "You look cute."

Eddie shrieks and whirls around to glare at his best friend slash-assistant slash-everything in between.

"Excuse me?" he shrieks, his voice bouncing off the walls of the cramped dressing room.

Chrissy giggles.

"It's just for today," she assures, "The photographer wants you to surprise people! Shed your bad-boy rockstar image to uh... better connect with a wider audience..."

She trails off with that last part, unsure as she repeats the magazine's pitch that left them both more than a little sceptical when the email first came through about a month back.

He frowns and puffs out his chest, ready to discuss the desperate and greedy corporatisation of the music industry. One that stifles creativity, all the while profiting millions off the very talent lawyers and managers (and whoever else in between) want to bend and mould and shape into nothing more than a bubblegum pop princess who –

Chrissy jumps at a knock on the dressing room door. But before Eddie can scream "Occupied!", in walks Steve, looking scrumptious and cozy in his new favourite cable-knit sweater, coffee in hand and smiling wide.

Eddie's face drops.

"Get out!" he screams, palming at the wig.

He wishes he could yank it right off, but he thinks his totally awesome and not-at-all dorky hair might come with it and never recover.

Eddie shudders at the thought.

"Way to greet – oh my god!" Steve cuts himself off as he all but shoves the coffee into Chrissy's waiting hands.

"Thank you," she whispers, hiding another laugh with the coffee cup.

Steve grins back at Eddie like the goddamn Cheshire Cat.

Eddie folds his arms and turns back to the mirror, away from the now rapturous chuckles behind him. But he only gets an eyeful of the wig once again and honestly? He thinks he might cry about it.

"Why are you here?" he dry-sobs.

"Cleared my schedule for the morning," Steve says and soon after Eddie feels a warm body next to his and a sweet kiss pressing to his cheek, "Chrissy said I had to come down here and laugh at you."

"I want a divorce," Eddie threatens despite leaning into Steve's side.

"Nuh-uh," Steve teases, addressing him via the mirror, "You gave me that line last week when I forgot to buy our favourite ice cream."

"It was on the shopping list!"

"And I told you, I had to leave the store because someone was following me and taking photos."

Eddie turns to his partner and smiles, "You looked so cute with your little shopping cart, baby."

He wraps his arms around Steve's middle as Chrissy groans.

Oh.

"I'll leave you guys with... whatever is gonna go on here," she warns, turning to the door, "Just don't mess up your makeup. I'll go and find out what's taking wardrobe so long."

She exits, still humming over her coffee and Steve smiles as he runs a feather-light hand over the wig.

"Now who looks like a Ken Doll?"

"Shut up," Eddie grumbles, pulling Steve tighter.

"What have they got you wearing for this thing?"

Eddie sighs, "A fucking grandma blouse and these really tight cream pants. Stevie, they are so tight."

"Ohhh," Steve coos, "I wanna see those."

[valiantverses]

Tremors II

-

Part I

A therapist's waiting room wasn't exactly the place to have the most engrossing conversations. People were usually jittery, tense, or straight-up despondent. Somehow, you manage to strike a strange sort of connection with the retired military couple that had the Thursday slot just after you anyway.

Trigger Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of medical conditions. Chronic pain discussion. Post couple argument. My characterisations may not be your cup of tea, they can be problematic, but hopefully in a realistic way.

A/N: Not gonna lie somebody sent me an Ask about Tremors and I had this written out the same day I read it lmao my brain is so monke

If you'd like to tag out of the tag list, just message "Tag out" in the notes!

His hands were shaking again. Callouses stretching and wrinkling together as he rested his hand on the doorknob. The metal was biting in the winter chill, but the physical sensation helped drag him back down to reality.

To his home— his actual home. Surreal still, after more than a decade of thin barrack mattresses and rocky dirt beneath thin sleeping bags. The one-story house was quaint in a way he never would've dreamt of living in when he was younger. His home, with its barely managed lawn. Creaking doors. Brick and dark woods— juxtaposed against the hard plastic wheelchair ramp next to the steps.

His home, where Johnny was waiting.

Rough fingers fall away from the doorknob. His head dipped as he exhaled sharply— burning shame, a semi-permanent grimace on his lips.

It had been a bad day for Johnny's chronic pain. A string of them, really. Simon could feel the exhaustion carved into his bones, the weight of caring for Johnny entrenched into his marrow.

Johnny was waiting —barely able to sit up and have breakfast today after waking up wracked with neuropathic pain— and Simon couldn't even bring himself to open the damn door.

Bitter miasma clawed at his gums, self-disgust brewing at his inability to be more human, more empathethic. At his desire to be away. At the way he wanted press pause. Johnny couldn't press pause— he could only wait.

A notification pops up on his phone. He doesn't check, knowing it'd be the therapy appointment app. Life was now just a cycle of doctor's appointments, tests, physical rehabilitation, bills, and therapy. He had gone from the steady drumbeat of barracks life to— this.

With a huff, he forced himself to open the door, as gently as he can manage so as no to wake Johnny in case he had fallen asleep.

They had never argued before the incident at the Channel Tunnel. But now, on bad days, when Johnny was in too much pain and Simon too frayed, tension would spark and light into flame. Ultimately they were former soldiers and fierce words, aggravated outbursts came naturally.

Sometimes the heated words would morph into the heated press of skin on skin, slick bodies and open mouthed kisses as they fought for control. Captured moans as their bodies sought purchase and rutted into each other.

Other times, like today, it would end in the gentle but firm closing of a door. Silent retreat as they distanced themselves. In the quiet of the after, where harsh words were mentally rehashed and their tempers reigned in— Johnny's a storm clearing, Simon's receding tides— the unspoken apologies as they met each other's eyes again, a silent covenant to try and do better.

Johnny was waiting.

The blond eased next to his sleeping form. Even asleep in their bed large enough to fit two well built men, his face was scrunched up in pain. Gently, Simon reaches out and smooths the furrow of his brow, powder- blue eyes opening hazily and meeting his. Then Johnny cracked a smile, leaning into Simon's touch.

"Ello' there. Been waitin'." He murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

Simon's answering chuckle reverberates through both of them "Hi." His chilled, calloused hands card through Johnny's hair. "Feelin' better?"

The hum he receives in response fills him with a quiet sort of relief. Johnny looked more serene now, with that light smile on his face. The last time he looked this peaceful was almost two weeks ago— talking to the pretty little thing at his counsellor's. Johnny had seemed to brighten in their presence, had even mentioned the interaction to the shrink jovially. It was the first time he'd had a proper conversation with a stranger since his brain injury. Simon nursed his pang of regret at cutting off the conversation so abruptly, but he had seen the reticence in Johnny's eyes and had felt his hackles rise, the need to protect so desperate—

The smaller man shifted next to him, voice muffled against the pillow "S'good of ye to run away everytime we have a row. Big of ye." His eyes sparkled with teasing.

Simon huffed, hands roaming against Johnny's skin as he pulls him to his chest, tucking his chin into the crook of Johnny's neck. Simon casually gestures at the shorter man's leg—it had to be augmented with metal bolts after the incident. Johnny could walk, but excess running would trigger his sensitive nerve endings. Simon's breath was warm against Johnny's ears as he spoke.

"Not like you could be the one running, ey, luv'?"

And then his head was being shoved into the pillow, Johnny laughing breathlessly. His arms were full of exasperated Scot as they both guffawed madly, the tension from that morning dissipating.

Later, when Johnny had drifted off again, Simon turned to tap at his phone and confirm their Thursday therapy slot. Unbidden, his thoughts drift to you. To how, inexplicably, you had managed to get Johnny to smile. He selects the same slot they got two weeks ago, hoping maybe it might mean running into you again. Seeing Johnny smile more. Then, his attention turns back to the sleeping Scot beside him.

Johnny was waiting, but he was never truly alone. He would always carry a piece of Simon with him.

[lunaharrygurl]

Part 2: Hurt

A/N: ahh back at it again hi. I really hope you guys like this one. Im a little anxious about what to do after, but eager for yalls feedback! Let me know what you think!!!!!

Word count: 2.6k

Part 1

Fall 2019

“You should let me pick out your outfits more often.” 

He’s sitting on her bed in a t-shirt and dark blue shorts with his arms behind his back. He has a small smirk on his face because he loves to see her all shy and out of her comfort zone. 

“Harrrry, you know I hate this stuff! Why are you torturing me like this?” Twirling in the mirror and looking behind her back to see the outfit in whole. She would never have picked this out, but she kinda likes the idea of him dressing her. She would never let him know that though, of course.

“Because you look pretty when you’re dressed like that. Plus your butt looks good, Annie.” Harry whistles. She throws a sock across the room and manages to hit him square in the face. His giggling tells her he’s not offended. She walks out of the bathroom to greet him in her room. His sock covered feet are swinging and dangling off. He’s dressed before her since he said he has plans in 30 minutes. Ana skips over to meet him and lets herself fall in between his legs, his arms wrap around her to hold her up. Her head falls against his chest and says something but he can’t hear. 

“Can’t hear you pretty girl.” He sings. Harry takes her head in his hands and it pushes her cheeks together. Finally making eye contact with him, she tells him that she’s too nervous to go to this book market alone. 

“It’ll be good to get out of your comfort zone,” he smooches a wet kiss to her nose and she shakes her head, “and to make friends.”

Ana pushes herself off of him and walks back to the mirror. She’s been at University for 3 months already and the only friend she has is him. She wishes she could be more outgoing, but would rather spend her nights in her dorm than to be out partying, like her dear friend Harry. Still lost in her train of thought, Harry comes up behind her and lands a soft kiss on the back of her head. 

“Why can’t you come with me? We would have so much fun together!” 

“I wish I could, sweetheart. But I have big plans tonight, I already told you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, big secret blah blah.”

“You’re gonna have a good time, I promise. I want you to have fun. I want to see you later though, so call me when you get home.” With a wink and a quick swat to her butt, he opens the door and slips out. Ana’s cheeks turn a deep red and she puts her fingertips to her mouth, thinking about what transpired earlier. Her ass is still a little sore.

Ana heard about the book market through her creative writing class. It’s basically a book swap for all the students on campus and a way for them to meet new people and make connections and counts as extra credit that she desperately needs. She ends up trading three books with some dudes she recognizes from her Calc class and finds herself having a good time.

As she picks up a book, Ana hears a squeal. “Oh my gosh, I LOVE that book!” She quickly turns around and ends up dropping her belongings. 

“My name is Penny,” the ginger girl yells and rushes to pick the fallen items for her. Penny points to the tall dark haired girl next to her, “and this is my friend Jess.” Ana returns a smile and introduces herself. Maybe making friends wouldn’t be so hard. 

After talking with the duo for ten minutes, she learns that Penny and Jess are both first years like Ana and they realize they actually have a lot in common. All first years, book lovers, and hopeless romantics. The book market finishes around 5 pm and the trio walks out together shoulder to shoulder. Ana pulls out her phone to shoot Harry a text, letting him know she’ll be going to dinner with her new friends and for him to stay with his friends. He replies with a thumbs up and a hundred exclamation points after which makes her smile.

They decide to go to a diner not too far from Ana’s dorm and it wasn’t too packed. Jess flips open the menu back and forth before saying “I dont know I’m kinda feeling chicken alfredo.”  Penny smacks her menu against hers and laughs saying her meal was basic. 

“Yeah, okay miss chicken parm.” Ana jokes back. All three girls are laughing when their waiter comes to the table and announces himself.

“Hi ladies. My name is Alex and I’ll be serving you guys tonight.” All girls quickly hush up and make quick eye contact with each other. The three of them finish ordering before Jess squeezes Ana’s hand from across the table. 

“He was totally looking at you dude! And he was flirting!”

“Noooo, he was not. He was just being polite!” Ana is full on blushing and pushing her hair behind her ear. She was sitting with two beautiful girls and she was no near their kind of pretty. There’s no way he could have been interested in her.

“Oh hush up. He looks like a school boy in love. You should definitely get his number.” Penny is looking at her with soft eyes and Ana can tell she was being genuine. She sips her strawberry lemonade and ignores the girls’ comments. She’s not really interested in pursuing their waiter anyways.

“I’m sorta already seeing someone else.” she blushes and begins to spill her complicated love life with Harry. She’s not sure if she considers him to be her boyfriend, but she for sure knows they're more than just friends. They spend every other night in each other’s dorms and not just to sleep. Ana has never been more satisfied in bed with any other person than with Harry. And not even just sex, he makes her laugh, he makes her smile, and she trusts him. She’s almost in love with him, but the only thing stopping her from professing her love is the fact that he might not feel the same way. 

Jess asks if Ana’s ever told him how she feels. She shakes her head and laughs “He probably doesn't feel the same. Let’s pretend I just went out and told him I liked him, yeah? And then he says he doesn't feel the same? I’d die. I would literally die.”

“You’ll never know unless you try Ana.” Penny sings. “I mean, it sounds like he likes you?”

“Or screw them both! Being single is fun! You deserve to not worry about who does or doesn't like you. You're young. Act like it.” 

“Damn, Jess, laying it on thick.” Ana laughs but keeps the words in her head.

Thankfully, they move on and finish their meals talking about their classes. Alex comes around with the check and tells the girls to have a good night, ending with sending Ana a wink. She for sure saw that. She picks up the check and her mouth opens.

“What? Is it a million dollars?”

“No, he left his number. “ Penny shuts up and her eyebrows shoot up. “No way!”

The group gathers their leftovers and walk out of the diner on the way to their respective dorms.

“It was really nice to meet you guys.” Ana gushes. “I hope we can hang out again.” 

“Oh we had so much fun! Of course we’ll see you again!” Penny pulls Ana into a hug and they rock side to side. 

“Pen, jesus.” Jess laughs out and pulls her friend off. “I have a feeling we’ll be best pals for life. You have our numbers and socials. I’ll text you when we get to our dorm.”

Ana gets a few steps in before she hears Penny yell, “And call that boy! Or tell the other boy you love him!” 

“We’ll see girl!” Ana laughs her off and walks away with a good feeling in her chest. She went out of her comfort zone and it paid off. And she got someone’s number. Who woulda thought?

She moves the crumpled receipt around in her pocket but can’t bring herself to actually fantasize about a new boy in her life. She really likes Harry. She’ll talk to him tonight, she decides. Excited to exclaim her crush, she has a pep in her step. Some loud rowdyness in front of her brings her out of her thoughts. She sees a few frat boys ahead of her seemingly drunk. 

“Bro, you do not have more bitches than him! He’s like - he’s like every girls’ dream here!” The boys are pushing each other and yelling apparently about who has better game.  “Harry is fucking someone like every other week, you can’t touch him.”

Suddenly, she freezes.

Harry? There has to be at least 1,000 people named Harry, so surely it can’t be him. 

“Nah, he has that Annieee girl he’s always with. Pretty sure they’re dating with how much he talks about her. ” She’s feeling a little queasy because one, these boys think Harry and her are dating and two, he’s having sex with all these other girls? 

“Annie’s just the side chick bro. He told me he’s still fucking a girl at least every other weekend. He’s with one tonight!”

Disgusted. Gutted. Is this a joke? Her Harry? Sleeping with other people? Every other weekend? Why hasn’t he told her? If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve said something. Of course she would’ve been a little hurt, but she would’ve understood. They were friends, or at least she thought they were. All those nights with her and countless times she’s opened up to him. Now this has her rethinking everything. 

Ana rushes home with tears running down her face and grabs all of the things that remind her of him. His rainbow cardigan he left this morning just in case she was cold. His purple toothbrush he leaves with how much he stays over. All of his socks and boxers. His blue nail polish he wears because he thinks it makes him edgy. Everything is shoved in a box and thrown to the side. She knows it's dramatic but she's hurt. She catches her reflection in the mirror and stops to glance at herself. She knows she’s somewhat pretty, but her face falls a bit at the realization that she wasn’t good enough for him. All the sweet things he’s whispered to her has been a lie.

She spots the diner receipt from the restaurant and zeros in on the phone number. Alex is a guy who thinks she’s pretty. He didn’t know anything about her, but saw her face and thought she was worth knowing. Fuck Harry. She doesn’t need him. She should be looking for men who actually like her and aren’t wasting her time. Ana quickly puts Alex’s number in her contacts and is about to send a quick text when Harry’s contact pops up and takes over her screen. Fuck fuck. Ana pushes the button on the side of her phone repeatedly in efforts to stop the call. He calls again and again and she begins to get annoyed. Dude, get the hint. A fast knock on her door has her head turning fast. 

“Annie, it’s me” She hears Harry call out. 

She holds her breath and stays still in hopes that he thinks she’s not home. 

“I have your locationnnn, I know you're in there” he sings. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters. Well, here goes everything.

“Hey, why didn’t you answer? What’s going on, why are you crying?” Harry puts a hand out to her face but she quickly puts a step back. His hand retreats and hurt laces his face.

His face is begging her for an answer, but she can’t bring herself to speak. This was someone she cared about, someone she was close to being in love with. Did she mean nothing to him? All those nights shared together made her feel stupid. How could she be so blind?

“What do you want?” 

With a dry laugh, he asks her what’s going on. “Why are you upset? I thought the book swap went ama-”

“Where were you tonight?” Ana manages to look him in the eye. She wants to be able to see his face as he attempts to lie to her. 

“I was out with friends. Annie, why are you crying?”

She blew a breath out and quietly spit out, “You sure? You sure you weren’t fucking someone?”

That shocked him. His eyes were wide and mouth slightly open. With a shake of his head, “Annie, no, please, what are you talking about? Who told you that?”

“You’re a liar,” she choked. So much for not crying in front of him. “You’ve been here lying to me, making me think you actually liked me. Every night not spent in my bed, you were in someone else’s. How many friends with benefits do you have? How many others do you lie to?” 

Ana puts her hands up in defeat. “You know what? I don't wanna know.” She quickly steps back into the room and rushes to shut the door. 

“Babe, please you have it all wrong. Let me explain!” His voice is muffled through the door and she puts her back against the wood. She can hear his ragged breathing as he tries to plead with her. 

“Let me explain,” he repeats, “It’s not what you think.”

Her heart tightens and she’s feeling a whirlwind of emotions: betrayal, anger, heartbreak. She feels like she could hate him, but a small part of her wants to believe him. To believe he actually could love her. 

“Why should I?” she finally says, voice trembling.

“I would never lie to you, Annie. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this.”

Ana lets out a hollow laugh. “So you’ve been meaning to tell me you’ve been whoring around? What I heard was true?”

There’s silence, but she knows he’s still there. She can hear his breath hitch.

Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet. “Can I come in?”

Her chest feels extremely heavy hearing him in pain. She’s aching for answers, but knows if she saw his face, she would cave. 

“No.” 

A hard knock which she assumes is his fist bumps her head forward. 

“You have it all wrong, just let me explain. I need to see your face.” 

“Please leave, Harry. I don’t want to see you.” She forces herself to stay strong and gets up to lock the door. 

A heavy silence follows. Ana presses her forehead against the door, eyes shut tight as if that could block out the pain swelling in her chest. She hears him exhale sharply, his hand dragging down the wood between them.

“Annie…” His voice is strained. “Please, don’t do this. Just let me—”

“I said leave.” Her voice is firm this time. She won’t let him weaken her resolve. Not again.

A long pause. Then the sound of footsteps retreating. The ache in her chest tightens. She listens, waiting for the finality of his departure - but nothing comes. Just the eerie quiet of the night pressing in. She replays his pleas in her head. He didn’t deny her accusation. 

A knock, softer this time, makes her flinch.

“Annie, if you want me to go, I’ll go.”

Her throat tightens. She should want that, shouldn’t she? Shouldn’t she want him gone after everything?

But the weight of those words presses against her ribs, because she knows Harry—knows the way he means things. He’s not saying it as a threat. He’s saying it because it’s the truth. If he leaves tonight, whatever this was is over.

Ana grips the doorknob, her fingers trembling.

Should she believe him? Does she let him explain? Or does she choose herself for once?

The choice sits heavy in her hands.

And then—

She turns the lock.

[indycinders]

Meet my MC!

This sounded fun in my head, so I'm making it a ✨thing✨ and making my friends do it too. /silly

Tags: @zorethel @lavender-teardroplettes @papaziggy-devblog @sylus-little-meow-meow @turquoisesea01

Name: Cinders Snyder

Nicknames: Kitty, Cindy, Cincin, Cins

Canon age: 24 (outside of LADS, she's 28)

Pronouns: She/they (either is fine uvu)

Headcanons:

🌷She wears those glasses all the time but I won't draw them because I hate drawing glasses LOL

🌷She's sweet, compassionate, empathetic, anxious, depressed, impulsive at times

🌷She's a freelance artist in her spare time when not working for the Association.

🌷She can play the piano pretty well.

🌷When she graduated the Hunter's Academy, Caleb gifted her a custom sword uvu (have drawn this, can find under the #lads cinders tag)

Main Love Interest:

Zayne Headcanons:

❄️In present time, they're both the type to be content with parallel play and consider it quality time when they're doing their own things but side by side.

❄️He's constantly on her case about managing her low sugars, and often brings her a treat after he's off work.

❄️They're best friends before lovers uvu

❄️When Caleb "died", she sat on the floor of her bedroom for 3 days, missed the funerals, and Zayne had to break into her apartment. He took care of her for several days until she came out of her state.

❄️She exists in the Dawnbreaker AU, but they don't meet until her city is destroyed and she searches for another Evolver to handle the Wanderer crisis.

❄️In the Foreseer timeline, she is a mystical Fae deer responsible for keeping the balance between nature and humanity stable on the mountain where the Foreseer's tower is. She's also responsible for creating the Elysian Cervus Wanderers to protect the mountain.

❄️They have that dynamic and connection where they can share a look and know what the other is thinking. They often communicate like that in large gatherings to let each other know when they want to go home lol.

❄️He caters to her too much and lets her swap cards often when playing Kitty Cards 🤭

❄️They kissed once in high school but both were too awkward to do anything about it after. They had a silent agreement not to bring it up again but it didn't affect their friendship.

❄️She has never once forgotten his birthday and has always sent him either a message or a card wherever he was, even when he tried to distance himself from her when he left to pursue his degrees. Zayne has all of these saved in a shoebox.

Favorite Outfits:

🌷Likes: sweets, music, piano, dancing, rain, sunflowers, daisies, tulips, hiking, art, games, reading, crafts, snow, swimming

🌷Dislikes: heat, crowds, loud noises, confrontational people, balloons, bitter foods, sour foods, feeling trapped

Platonic / Other Headcanons

🩷 Her and Rafi often have painting sessions together and practice different techniques.

❤️ Sylus upgraded Mephisto with a glucose tracker and delivers snacks when he notices her sugars are low.

💜 Xavier has big guard dog energy and will always check ahead on missions even if it annoys her.

🧡 Caleb actively lets her borrow his clothes. He'll purposely leave his hoodies and shirts at her apartment.

🩷 Rafi takes her swimming in the ocean and they search for little treasures together. So far they found 2 bracelets, a pearl choker, 3 wedding bands, and a tiara.

❤️ She was terrified of Sylus because his intimidating demeanor made her anxious. After getting to know him through Mephisto, she considers him a close friend.

💜 Has fallen asleep in the weirdest places with Xavier. Once they both fell asleep at a meeting and the team thought it was so funny, they left them in the conference room. She and Xavier didn't wake up until the building was closed.

🧡 Caleb can't be in the same room as Zayne. Broken bro code and all that. LOL

~*~*~*~*~

Anyway, this was fun and it got long! Feel free to reblog and share your own MCs 🩷🩷🩷 I want to see everyone's qvq

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Wooin Yoo's analysis

After seeing tons of people misunderstanding his character and making him out to be worst person alive, I decided to take the matters in my hands and post an analysis. I'd be more than delighted if this will help to understand his character better because I'm also using this analysis to debunk some claims against Wooin Yoo.

Wooin Yoo appears to be playful and friendly person, at least that's how he portrays himself to strangers. He tends to hide his true intentions behind the mask he puts on. At first glance, he seems sincere but his words often carry the hint of mischief and mockery. He's skilled in provoking people - of course intentionally - he seems to kind of enjoy the reactions caused by his words and he's written to be shameless character, regularly acting a bit too casual. Whenever he, himself, is being provoked, he manages to remain calm, rational and controls his frustration very well, that is unless people pushes his buttons. We've seen him being quite aggressive and violent, he also gets frustrated when things don't go along with his plans. He also gets annoyed when he's being ignored -

For example, when he greeted Monster but got ignored, Wooin clearly got frustrated but let it go afterwards. He couldn't hide his dislike though.

Despite these questionable traits, Wooin seems pretty friendly and comfortable with his friends - Joker and Hyuk specifically. I mentioned how Wooin gets annoyed when things don't go along with his plans and sometimes even gets violent, but that's never the case when it comes to his friends. In the webtoon series, Joker and Hyuk don't listen to him quite often or follow his plans but he doesn't get violent with them. Frustrated? Yes. Violent or lashes out like he does with others? Definitely not. In fact, I'd say that Hyuk and Joker get free pass to frustrate him and be perfectly fine whatsoever. Same goes to ignoring. I think in 522(?) chapter, he talks about finals yet gets interrupted by Hyuk, who asks if anyone wants a drink, then Joker joins in - they basically ignored what Wooin was saying but guess what Wooin did? That's right, nothing. He just scratched his head and posed a question. Nothing else. I'm emphasizing this so much because I'm using this analysis as a way to prove some people wrong that have very bad view of Wooin to the point of misunderstanding him. Like I saw someone straight up saying that he'd be cold to his own friends too, which is wrong. Wooin hates being lonely or alone, hence why we see him hanging out with his friends often, it usually being Joker or/and Hyuk. He sure as hell is not going to treat his friends like piece of shits while constantly hanging out with them and deeply despising solitude.

How do I know that Wooin dislikes solitude? Well, lemme focus on specific interaction between Joker and Wooin, where Joker mentions how lonely the puppy must have felt and how lonely it'd be if Joker just left it. Wooin, for once, has different type of expression that we don't see of him often. Those words just stirred something in Wooin and he remembered how lonely he used to be in almost dark room with nothing but small, single window.

His backstory yet have to be revealed but I can analyse the entire picture right here. The room Wooin is in seems very simple, has nothing else other than chair, desk, shelves and books, one picture and one window, which is the only source of light in the room. Wooin is sitting in the middle, facing the window while open book is posed in front of him. But no, he's not looking at the book, he's not reading anymore. He's looking at the only source of light in his room that comes from outside, as if he's dreaming about something, going outside, having fun with his friends, being free. But no, rather he's feeling incredibly lonely and solitude is gnawing at his bones. This scene was supposed to show just how much he hates loneliness. Ironic, isn't it? He's always with someone and has lot of connections that you'd think he's never alone but who would have thought that a person like that has suffered from solitude before? And that he's trying to cope and kill that solitude by almost always being with his friends. It makes sense because most of the time we saw Wooin hanging out with his friends, they weren't really doing anything but keeping each other company. For example, in part 4 episode 86, Wooin is just on his phone while Joker eats an apple and they're not interacting until Sangho sends Wooin a message. There's more scenes like that, for example, Joker just sleeping in Wooin's car and nothing else. But still, the presence of someone is enough for Wooin.

"He doesn't really care about his friends tho" right, a man who gave up on being professional cyclist receiving professional training and his bright future for his friend, Hyuk, just to create the crew where Hyuk could freely ride just how he wanted without being judged, just so the two of them could ride together again, this man doesn't care about his friends, right? This man who apologized to Sangho after Joker messed up when he didn't have to be the one apologizing at all or when Joker angered Juhwan and Wooin tried to fix the issue Joker caused - again, he didn't have to - is a man who doesn't care about his friends. Right, a man who accepted Vinny as a friend and treats him so well in Sabbath, right? A man who covered for his friends when they messed up what Sangho requested them, right? Right. How uncaring of him.

Now let's talk about the recent glance at his backstory, where Wooin talks about how he gave up being acknowledged by anyone. Because he has tried many, many, many times but only kept getting labelled as "useless"

The unknown man speaks lowly of Wooin, this man is someone he wanted acknowledgement from but he never got it. The man seems rich, maybe the ceo of some company but he surely has lots of authority. So far, we can assume him to be Wooin's father, also to note the fact that this is happening in the house, Wooin's room. It seems Wooin wanted to be acknowledged so badly by this man but ended up being disappointment probably for quite lot times. The signs of Wooin being victim are visible in the chapter:

The room is messy, there's golf's stick, cigarettes on the ground - they're messy too, broken what seems to be a cup, broken phone and books scattered around in the corner. On top of it, Wooin is tied up and beaten up to the point of bleeding. Obviously he's victim when he ends up like this + locked up when he only ever wanted to make the man proud, for him to be acknowledged. Then Wooin proceeds to say how he gave up on being acknowledged by anyone ages ago.

There's a lot we don't know about him but we'll probably learn more soon enough.

[triglycercule]

what if because dust and horror wouldn't wanna be called anything aside from sans in a multiverse context and they were both good buddies they both just start calling eachother sans. i'm sans (dust) and i'm sans (horror) ahh duo

becaaause horror in his eye(s) still sees himself as sans!! he's sans!! who else is he SUPPOSED to be god 😒😒 stop attatching this stupid fake name onto him that just points out all his shortcomings in his au and also just dehumanizes him (because i get that aus are named after a key trait of something but COME ON the guy's name is HORROR it's like naming a poor person "brokie" or something,,,). horror is PROUDLY sans smh

and dust ALSO sees himself as sans!!! like,,, granted he's definitely not a better sans than he was before considering everything he did (but he still doesn't like his past self's inaction) but he's STILL SANS. nothing about him changed (really?) enough to warrant the whole identity shift. like dude dont discredit him DONT DENY HIS WHOLE LIFE!!! he IS sans no matter what,,, dust doesnt wanna think about what he became if he's not sans now anyways lul :3

now could they fight over the right to the identity of sans??? possibly,,, but also consider this: there are literally infinite numbers of sanses in the multiverse. at some point the shiny title of Sans would be something horror and dust are used to around the multiverse!!! so why fight over the name (that so many others share already so its not exactly exclusive) when they can just decide to make each other feel better!!! be delusional TOGETHER 🤞

[kaseri]

so hard out there for us suo/sudou truthers 😭😭

[moreaujeans]

IM FREEEEEE

[twelvemartha]

still thinking about her (14martha)

[im-smart-i-swear]

Ok so Buddy works in space McDonalds right? Does that mean others have a job somewhere as well?

ill admit that in the comic i used space mcdonalds mostly for comedic effect........ i mean they propably worked at a space fast food restaurant at some point, but it definetely wasnt their only job!

okay so after eeneks unexpected family reunion the clones, eenek and zora all decide to stay on znahors ship for the time being(it gets a little cramped but its bearable), and they just kinda start going from place to place after that?? before picking them all up znahor already was doing essentialy that, anyway- he traveled from planet to planet, occasionally helping the locals and then fucking off elsewhere. so thats what they do! they jump from one star system to the next, never staying anywhere for long, trying to not bring any unwanted attention to themselves, and they get by mostly by doing random odd jobs(some more legal than others..) and stuff.

they all(ecept for taka bc hes like 10) get their fair share of shitty jobs, but they dont really have a choice, do they? the war is over, sure, but obviously such a long conflict leaves an impact on the world. the chaos is on one hand a blessing, bc an odd bunch like three galrans and a gaggle of humans dont bring much attention in a sea of refugees, but it also means that sometimes things get messy, and making ends meet is difficult.

out of the clones, buddy has the most experience and knowledge about how alien worlds function, so they often end up with jobs that require communication and frequent interaction with other people- basically what im trying to say is that they work customer service. a lot. they survive it by remembering how infiuriating diplomacy was and telling themselves that hey! at least them fucking something up wont put the fate of the universe into jeopardy this time!! stickbug often works alongside them, but he hates interacting with customers even more that buddy does and tries to avoid this kind of job as much as he can(my man spent too much time trying to please everyone in his childhood and is OVER IT). i mean all of them get a customer service job from time to time but bud is the one whos least terrible at it

im not sure if the others have any preferred jobs tbh, but the idea of soup trying competetive fighting at some point would be interesting to explore i think........

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I had an interview on Monday and it went really well, the hiring manager said she really wanted me on the team and I should hear back by Tuesday. Didn't hear back by Tuesday, so on Wednesday I called them. They said the hiring manager was off for the next two days, call back on Friday after 1pm. I call at 2:15pm, the hiring manager has gone to the bank, call back in 10-15 minutes. If she's gone when I call back in about 30 minutes I'm just going to think she's avoiding me. Why is getting a job literal torture? This is a job at McDonald's btw.

Update: I have orientation on Monday!!

[no1ryomafan]

Forgot to mention awhile ago I started Big O-ITS GOOD-and this is something that hasn’t been touched on yet but is that the robot is sentient, which got me thinking about why this aspect is appealing to me in mecha context pasts “already preferring robots with sentience to begin with”.

There is something both intriguing and horrifying about the idea this giant man made machine your piloting that cannot speak at all is still technically aware. It doesn’t have a free will per-say as it needs you, its pilot, to operate it, to make it move and fight, but it still has its own thoughts and feelings. And whether or not this sentience means anything to humanity-if it freaks out other people, if it means anything for the general scale of evolution and the future as technology continues to grow-you still have the duty to pilot this robot because there’s no other way to eliminate the enemies, and only you can do it. Even if you didn’t choose to, the robot needs you as much as you need it.