#so yeah it might not all be recent developments but are you really gonna ask about danielle who as an adult dated 17 year old liam

[autumnrory]

i've been going into the liam tag from time to time the last year where both his fans and people who hated him were Weird about him well before there were any allegations so i would get curious, i don't even remember what started it (maybe it was merely looking for photos that update accounts wouldn't post), but i normally try to avoid going into anything but edit tags for people i enjoy bc there are so many nonsense takes

and of course happening to go through today before the news broke bc i wanted to see what was being said about the abuse as i've only gotten bits on twitter and of course there were many posts rightfully calling it out and all but there's that weird mentality which i was getting a lot more of from twitter but some on here where they're like??? celebrating it and girlboss-ing and i'm just like. okay it's great that you're believing a victim but you're making light of it by talking about it like it's just another stan thing, i have seen that time and time again when this kind of stuff comes out and if people already thought that person was annoying or whatever they're just like "oh yes! i knew it! their career is ruined haha!" and it's like. you clearly don't actually care about the horrible things this person has done and just want to brag that you somehow ~knew~ a stranger's vibes were off and it's so beyond gross like you could use that energy to support a person's victims and instead you'll just try to prove you stan the right people and never the wrong ones or whatever

[larissareadings]

It’s okay, love.

➤ pairing: Draco Malfoy x gryff!fem!reader (house barely mentioned).

Request: None

tw: eating disorder; mentions of bullying and anxiety attack.

Note: I’ve wrote this based on personal experiences and what I needed at the time. DO NOT read this if it’s not comfortable for you. If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please reach out for help.

English is not my native language so I’m sorry if there is any mistakes. This is my first fic ever so it might not be so good. I hope you enjoy it though.

Summary: Y/N is a keeper at the Gryffindor (barely mentioned) team, who has been developing an eating disorder and Draco Malfoy seems to be only one who noticed it.

Y/N always had problems with her body image. At her early teens at Hogwarts she used to be mocked, mostly by Pansy Parkinson and her friends, because she was too thin. When Y/N turned 14, she started gaining weight since she was eating too much due to her increased anxiety, and then she was again being mocked, except now because she was getting fat, and everyone talked about it, even when they didn’t want to be mean, saying things like “you should get on a diet”. By 16, Y/N started focusing on her weight loss journey, she was finally gonna be health, delicate and beautiful as the other girls her age.

Some months later

It was right after the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. They won, of course, since you’ve let too many quaffles go through the goal hoops. You’re a keeper at the Gryffindor team, and you’re good at it. When you’re not dizzy anyway.

“It happened again, didn’t it?”

you heard the familiar voice behind you. It sounded soft, which was not a usual thing. You closed your locker and turned around to face Malfoy. The others had already left the locker room, so now it was just you and him.

"It happened what again, Malfoy?" you asked him, trying to sound indifferent, when you were all, but that. He had some power over you, it was irritating actually, how nervous you would get when he was around.

Malfoy has been acting weird these past few months, he didn't tease you anymore. When his friends said anything about you, he would either just leave or just stare at you, but never laugh with them, never contribute to their bullying. He was the only one in the group who said nothing about your recent weight loss. The others did. Pansy would never loose the chance to say you finally learnt to shut your mouth.

You hated that he hadn't said anything, you worried you hadn't lost enough weight for him to notice, and you wanted him to see that you could be pretty too.

He looked in you up and down, checking you, before focusing on your eyes again and said "Dizziness."

You didn't understand why he was saying this, why he would notice you feeling dizzy. "Yeah.. just a little. I'm bit distract that's all". A few seconds went by where he said nothing, just stood there looking at you. Was that concern in his eyes? You couldn't tell. "Look, uhmm, I don't know where this is coming from, but I have to go. If you have any jokes to make about me being a bad keeper, or an ugly, fat bad keeper or whatever" you noticed him flinch at that, as if it had hurt him. "say it now or leave it for tomorrow 'cause I'm really tired and just wanna go to my bed"

He walked towards you, enough for him to talk low and look closely into your eyes, making you even more nervous, and said "You have to stop this, Y/N, it's making you sick."

"I don't know what you talking about"

Now he let out a breath in disbelief. "Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about? Let my clarify to you, then, It's a very simple concept, really, I thought you would know it by now." He was actually getting angry. "In order to live, people have to eat. It's the only way to get nutrients into your body. Really, Y/N, that's basics"

"I know about that. It's a good thing I eat, then, right?'' You said also angry now with his sudden aggressiveness.

"Do you though? 'Cause what I'm seeing-" he said gesturing to your body "is a girl fading away, a girl who plays with food at lunch instead of actually eating it, a girl who who used to be a great keeper, but now can't barely stand in a broom because is too weak to do so." He could feel his heart in his throat. He was so nervous, so scared you would fall off that broom. More than he could ever admit. He was keeping his worry to himself for months, hoping you would stop, hoping someone would intervene, but no one did. People just kept either praising your weight loss or humiliating you. But he couldn't stop himself anymore, if you had got hurt today, he would never forgive himself.

You felt your heart skip a beat at that. He was worried. Really worried. You didn't know how to react. You felt seen, someone saw what you were going through. But you also felt good, reassured. So you WERE thinner, and he noticed. “You know what? I don’t get it. Weren’t you and your friends the ones who said I was too heavy to play quidditch? that my weight would slow me down? that I would fall? that the broomstick couldn’t take it?” you now had tears in your cheeks. Your vision was blured by the tears and, God, you were so tired.

Malfoly’s heart might’ve actually broke in that moment. He was so angry at everyone who didn’t notice you hurting yourself, when he was actually the who drove you into it.

‘‘I am so tired.” you kept talking now, tears rolling down your face. “Why is it never enough? I’m tired. I’m thin, I’m ugly. I’m fat, I’m ugly too, and disggusting. I need a diet. I do a diet. and now fading away? OH well, just let me be happy for once.and I am happy now, ok? I’m finally beautiful.” You were talking so fast and you were feeling so weak. Malfoy saw that, so he immediately hold you in a hug, preventing you from falling. Your head were now in his chest, and you were trying to stop crying, trying to make your heart go back to it’s normal rhythm.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love.” He said stroking your hair. “I’m sorry” he said almost inaudible.

After a few minutes you heart and breathing were finally stable again. You detached yourself from his harms, although his hands were still in both sides of your arms. You looked up to him with watery eyes. You hated crying in front of people. "I'm sorry" you said.

"It's okay." He said again, looking back at you. Taking his hesitant hand, like he was afraid to actually break you, to clean your cheeks from the tears. "I promise".

"Why are you doing this?" you were really confused. You had never seen Malfoy this gentle and.. scared?

He caressed you cheeks while looking from your eyes to your mouth. He then joined your foreheads and spoke really low, like a whisper. “I need you, Y/N.”

“what?” you said also in a whisper. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

“I need you, and I need you to get better. This is making me crazy. I’m scared all the time. I’m scared you’re gonna fall off the stairs, or the broom. I’m scared of you getting hurt. Please.. just- just let me help, ok? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Anything.”

“Can you.. uhmm. eat? with me, I mean” you asked detaching your heads to look in his eyes.

“Sure” He said immediately. “Is that all?”

“No.” you let out a breath in relief with his answer and smile a little. “But it may be a start. I think”

“Ok.” He returned your smile. “You should probably talk with someone else, though. Someone who could help more. A professor, maybe. I’ll go with you, if you want me to.”

“Yeah.. ok. Can we go to McGonagall, then? Not now, please. When I’m ready.”

“Of course. Anyone you want, love.” He said looking back at you before you hugging him again. Letting your head rest in his chest while he stroke your hair again. This felt like home to both of you. You were so scared, but he was hopeful. He would do anything for you to feel better.

This whole not eating thing made you so tired, but it was also so addictive. You didn’t know if you could ever get better, but maybe this was a start. Having someone to lean on, someone who cared.. it certainly helped.

[turcott3]

all of you

juraj slafkovský x establishedgf! reader

warnings?: cursing, angst, crying, kissing, mentions of smut, fluff that will make your teeth fall out

masterlist

-

recently, after a promotion, you’d been blowing up on social media. gaining a massive following. you could never keep up with the impossible amount of likes and comments you began to receive but it excited you at the opportunities that it laid out in front of you.

you heard the front door of your apartment shut, yet again followed by silence. the last couple of days have been like this. he comes home from practice and you ask him how it went. your only response being the bedroom door shutting. you sighed at the sound of the shower turning on. you didn’t understand why he was acting this way. you didn’t know what was going on.

“hello?” arber asks on the other end of the line.

“hey arb, do you have a second to talk?” you ask chewing on your fingernails.

“yeah i do, what’s up?”

“is juraj okay? he’s been acting so weird. he used to chat with me after he gets home but now i just ask him how his practice went and he walks right past me and slams the bedroom door. he won’t talk to me about it.”

“y/n i’m gonna be honest with you right now, he’s been having a really hard time. he’s been so hard on himself. he’s been very delicate. less chatty, less smiley. it really fucking sucks. this season has started out less than ideal for him and it’s so hard seeing him go through this. i can’t believe he’s been keeping it from you.”

“i mean i guess it might have something to do with all of the craziness happening in my life, maybe he feels like he doesn’t wanna burden me?”

“that could be it honestly, i think he’s feeling a little insecure. just talk to him, okay? i know you can get him to open up, he’s fucking crazy about you. keep me updated.”

“okay, i will. thank you arber.”

“yeah of course,” he replies as you bid your goodbyes and hang up the phone. it shattered your heart knowing that he was keeping his struggles from you. all because he didn’t wanna dampen your recent successes.

“baby?” you ask as you hear your bedroom door shut. you turned to see your boyfriend sporting a pair of pajama pants and no shirt. a sight that would never get old to you. you hop up off the couch and meet him in the kitchen.

“hi pretty girl.” he giggles, pulling you to him, engulfing you in a tight hug.

“any new developments?” you reply pulling away from him.

“nah not really, everything seems um,” he pauses, “normal, for the most part.”

you noted the shift in his demeanor and figured you should change the subject, at least for now. you watched as the boy prepared lunch for the two of you.

“my little chef, or should i say big.” you giggle watching him from the bar.

“i didn’t cook any of this, i made a sandwich.” he giggles turning around and showing you.

“either way, you made it.”

“i guess you’re right.” he laughs, finishing them up and plopping them down in front of you. you sat in silence as you both at your sandwiches. typically, lunch was filled with lots of chatter. it was bothering you that he was acting so standoffish.

“j, is everything okay? you’re worrying me.” you frown at him.

“uh yeah, i’m fine. why?” he asks with a mouth full of his last bite.

“can we sit down and talk please.” you request and he nods, following you to the living room. leaving your sandwich behind.

“what has been going on with you? you’re not acting like yourself. every time you walk in, you ignore me. i can see you’re upset about something. baby please tell me what’s going on with you? i need to know if something is bothering you. you know im always here for you.” you say grabbing onto his hand and bringing it into your lap.

“i know i know, i just didn’t wanna kill your mood because of all the good things you have going for you right now. i didn’t want you to be worrying about me.” he says, his lip beginning to quiver and voice cracking quietly.

“well i am. tell me whats going on.” you press him.

“i’m not playing good, i know it’s the start of the season but i’m not playing good at all. i have like no points. i’m not practicing well, and i’m getting drilled to hell for it. so i’m just being hard on myself. i feel beat down and insecure as fuck.” he says, wiping the tears he didn’t let roll all the way down his cheek.

“j,” you frown, “i’m sorry it’s been going badly for you. you know i’m here for you always. please just come to me when you need support okay? and why are you feeling insecure?” you lightly wipe away his tears with your thumb. holding his face lovingly between your hands.

“i’ve spent my spare time, outside of shitty practice, looking at your instagram comments. logan cooley is real interested in taking you out. he’s made that very apparent.” he sighs, sniffling.

“who the fuck is logan cooley?” you reply, furrowing your brows, tilting his head up to look at you.

“he was a high draft pick from my year.” he sighs.

“you do know the only players i know are you and your teammates right?” you giggle.

“yeah i know, but im sure you see those comments and look at their accounts and stuff, and i think to myself that maybe you’d wanna give them a chance. i don’t know it’s stupid.” he admits to you, losing eye contact.

“baby what the fuck are you talking about?” you reply, confused as ever.

“i don’t even know at this point.”

“honey, i don’t even take time to open my comments section. it’s full of bullshit, i only respond to yours and some of my friends, i don’t even look at anything else. so i don’t even care what goes on in mine, especially with what im dragged through in yours.” you answer in a light tone, hopefully getting some kind of confidence from him.

“what?”

“let me lead with saying i am in no way trying to discount your feelings, okay? i love you and i wouldn’t ever do that to you. but everyday there are countless random women and fucking 16 year old girls who sit in your comments section and trash on me. ‘she doesn’t deserve him’ ‘she’s too ugly for him’. that’s my reality juraj. no one ever puts you down in my comments, not that it makes it better, but do you see where i’m coming from?”

“i’m sorry i didn’t know.” he frowns, squeezing your hand.

“it’s okay my love, they don’t bother me.” you reply, squeezing back.

“why not?”

“because i know you’re the only one for me.” you smile sweetly at him, placing a kissing on the soft skin of his cheek before nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck as he takes you into his lap.

“you make me feel safe and warm and loved. i couldn’t ever get that from someone else. you’re so caring and sweet with me, i honestly do question how much i deserve you sometimes. when we have sex it’s so much more than just sex, it’s fucking love, juraj. you love me so much and i can feel it everyday. it goes without questioning. never once have i ever even thought about leaving you.” you say, toying with the curls on the back of his head that you’d grown so fond of as they grew longer.

“that makes me feel a lot better. i’ve never been with anyone who loves and cares about me this much, it’s scary sometimes. i have a hard time navigating because all girls have ever wanted from me is my money and attention. you’ve completely flipped my expectations baby. i don’t know how to apologize for how i’ve been acting. i love you so much, i can’t even comprehend it.” he replies. you lean up in his grasp, connecting your lips with his softly, and lovingly.

“i’m gonna marry you j. i just know it.” you say practically in a whisper with your forehead pressed to his.

“i don’t even know what to say, i love you y/n. so fucking much.” is all he replies before pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“you don’t need to say anything, i just wanted to tell you how i feel so you’d maybe give me your gorgeous smile in return.” you say as he smiles widely. you press a kiss to his head with a laugh.

“tomorrow you’re going into practice with your chin held high, and that pretty smile on your face. you hear me? i’ll get you there no matter what i have to do.” you say placing your hand on his cheek.

“i trust you.” he giggles before you tackle him over in a kiss, leaving all of your prior worries behind. you were obsessed with the way he made you all warm and fuzzy inside. obsessed with the way he loved you, physically and emotionally. but mostly, you were obsessed with the way he loved all of you.

-

[pizzaqueen]

Pre-slash (but they’re flirty) / about 1k of another ~oh moment for Steve / T

Someone drums on the counter and Steve looks up from the forms he’s sorting into Eddie’s grinning face.

“Hey,” Steve says, “you on a break?”

“Nope. Letting the kiddies fend for themselves.”

Steve snorts. “You’re gonna get fired one day.”

“Pfft. The arcade is a cakewalk. I spend most of my time reading in the backroom. The punters take care of themselves.” Eddie shrugs. “And if I get fired, I can always get a job here.”

“You think so, huh?”

“Sure.” Eddie folds his hands on the counter, resting his chin on them. “I happen to be on good terms with the manager.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m really going to hire you when I know how many times you’ve walked out in the middle of your shifts.”

“If I worked here, I wouldn’t need to skip out to come see you.”

“Hm.” Steve leans one hip on the counter. “What do you want, anyway?”

Eddie straightens up. “Wanna know if you’re free tonight.”

“Nah, thought I might start charging.”

“What’s your going rate?”

“Five bucks an hour?”

“Oof. That might be out of my price range, dude.” Eddie turns out his pockets like some kind of cartoon character. “The arcade might be a cakewalk, but it doesn’t pay much.”

“Well, maybe I can make an exception. Give you a freebie.”

Eddie waggles his brows. “Lucky me.”

“Okay,” Steve says on a laugh, “it depends what you want to do.”

“Just hang out.”

“Hanging out, I can do for free,” Steve says. “I’ll come by yours after work?”

“Excellent.” Eddie drums his hands on the counter again, bopping his head to an unheard tune. “Oh, and bring a movie.”

“Got one in mind? We’ve got a few to choose from.”

“Surprise me,” Eddie says with a wink.

Steve rolls his eyes. And then his gaze is caught by two girls coming in—Amy and Laura, he thinks—and he straightens up a little, runs a hand through his hair. Eddie follows Steve's line of sight, shaking his head when it lands on the girls.

"What?" Steve says.

Eddie shrugs. "Didn't say anything." But his lips twitch.

Steve's brow furrows, but he says, "We could try for a double date?"

"Mm. I'll pass."

"Whatever," Steve says, and watches the girls, running through a few different lines to pull out, though with a little less creativity (and enthusiasm) than he used to. When Laura comes over to the counter with a copy of Cocktail, Steve says, “Cocktail, huh?”

“Yep.”

Steve takes her membership card, punching in the number. “You know, this is a pretty good date movie.”

Eddie makes a derisive noise; Steve ignores him.

Laura nods. “Uh-huh.”

“If you don’t have anyone to watch it with, I’m always available…”

Another tape is slapped on the counter and Amy says, “We’ll stick with Tom Cruise. Thanks.”

“Right.”

“Well…” Laura gives Eddie a coy look. “What about you?”

Eddie presses a hand to his chest, turning to Laura. “Me?” When she nods, he adds, “What about me?”

“Are you available?” Laura asks, leaning into Eddie’s space a little.

Eddie opens his mouth but, before he can say anything, Steve blurts, “He’s married.”

Three disbelieving looks turn Steve’s way. He shrugs.

“You’re married?” Amy asks Eddie.

There’s a moment of silence and Steve waits for Eddie to call Steve’s bullshit so, when Eddie says, “Yep. Super married,” he gapes a little. And then Eddie adds, “Five kids, big house, dog. The works,” and Steve tries not to smile.

Amy’s eyes narrow, but Laura says, “Oh, that’s a pity,” and… She didn’t actually believe that, did she?

"Good ones are always taken right?"

“Yeah, well, I—” Steve starts, but Amy cuts in with:

“Since when is Eddie Munson married?”

“It’s a recent development,” Eddie says.

“And you’ve got five kids?”

“Never said we had them all after we got married, did I?”

"And who are you married to?"

“Hey, this is a video store, not the records office or whatever,” Steve says, waving his hand. "Do you want to rent the movies or not?"

The girls roll their eyes in unison, but they take their tapes and leave, whispering to each other in annoyed tones.

Struck out again, Harrington. Whatever. Plenty of fish in the sea. Or, so Steve’s been told. It weirdly doesn’t sting as much it usually does, even if he made an idiot of himself in front of Eddie. At least Eddie played along.

“So, I’m married, huh?”

Steve winces, but he recovers quickly, saying, “Yeah, heard you got five kids, a big house, the works.”

“And how, pray tell, did this happy event come about?”

“Well, sometimes when a man and a woman love each other very much—”

Eddie groans, letting his head fall back. “C’mon, man, you know what I mean. Why’d you tell those ladies I’m married?”

Yeah, Steve, why’d you do that? “Well… You weren’t interested in a double date, so I figured you wouldn’t be into a single one, either.” Steve lifts his shoulders. “Hey, if I was wrong, then I’m sorry, man.”

“You weren’t wrong.” Eddie bites his lip. A glint comes into his eye and he adds, “So, you weren’t jealous or anything?”

A strange heat shoots through Steve. “What, no— Why would I be jealous? I mean… I suggested a double date in the first place.”

“Thought you might want the ladies all to yourself,” Eddie says around a grin.

Steve blinks. He’d thought Eddie meant…

A kid comes running in, yelling out for Eddie, something about one of the games eating their quarters.

“Well. Duty calls,” Eddie says, giving a little salute as he saunters out of the store, following the kid. "Pick a good movie," he calls back. “Maybe Cocktail,” he adds with what Steve can only describe as a cackle.

Numbly, Steve watches Eddie leave, frozen to the spot. It’s a good few minutes before he can shakes himself out of it. That was weird. What the hell?

It’s not until later, when he’s shelving a copy of Cocktail that it hits him: Steve doesn’t want to keep the ladies to himself. He wants to keep Eddie to himself.

Well, he thinks, taking the tape off the shelf again, and shoving it in his backpack, shit.

Part two

NOW ON AO3!

[yourloveaton]

Hi! I saw all your AU art just recently and noticed you were saying we can ask you about it! (ITS SUCH AWESOME ART BTW I ADORE IT THE WAY YOU DRAW THEM IS AKAKAKKDMSMAMD!!!!)

I don’t have a specific question, but I do want to know more about it.

So can you just tell me anything about it?

Ahhh THANK YOU SO MUCH !!! I’m so happy that you liked my au art and wanna know more about it !! You have no idea how much joy that makes me feel 🥹💖

Well I can tell you some info and facts about the au, how I’m planning to develop it and all that !! It’s still fairly new and I did it out of nowhere at 3 am in the morning because I thought of my old ideas that I had years ago when undertale was on it’s prime but I was too young to bring ideas to life properly HAHAHA I hope my writing doesn’t bore you!

The au is pretty much founded on the idea of what if Sans also used to be a royal guard when he was younger? Boom. That’s where it spiralled and now I don’t know how revert back to who I was before because I ended up doodling a lot of undertale stuff along with the au, it didn’t help with the fact that my very good beloved friend kept encouraging me and feeding my inner demons of my undertale brainrot HAHAHA

I’m planning to develop the au into 2 parts: Before Undertale and after Undertale.

Before undertale is basically the events that happened before the plot of Undertale took place while after undertale is when they’re finally on the surface and the events that will happen on there! Sounds very generic and common I know, that’s why I’m going to try and develop it to be a bit different and hope that the au is not boring or developed horribly :’D It will take some time though since I know developing an au with a unique plot is gonna be very challenging, there are so many ways to mess it up and aghhh I really don’t wanna mess it up TT

Here are the main cast of the before undertale, this is a very OLD sketch that I made to figure out who’s there and how old they would be before I proceed to develop on the characters. So their heights might not be as accurate as it is in the sketch.

Also DISCLAIMER, Alphys and Undyne never met in before Undertale, so just know there’s no weird agenda going on here! They first met during Undertale plot when they’re both adults (Alphys 29, Undyne 23) so it’s all good!! I thought I needed to point that out because the age gap might seem alarming at first glance knowing they’re officially a couple 🙏 The before undertale plot begins at the age displayed on the sketch, and it ends after uhh.. 10 years? Yeah it’s ten years of events before the main undertale story starts!

I do want to portray the skele family with wholesome moments and you know, how great they are! Well that is before the downfall but we ain’t talking about that for now !! They’re just so beloved to me and I know they were such a sweet family AND WOULD HAVE VERY FUNNY MOMENTS IN WHICH I WANNA DRAW IT OUT!! So yeah, stay tuned for silly mini comics of them eheh

At first, I wanted Trickster (yes I’m calling his royal guard nickname, it’s like a whole different persona of his (alter ego???) where he’s energetic and acts very silly, whimsical, presenting puzzles and quizzes to his opponents sometimes but also can be very intimidating and prove that yeah, there’s a reason why he can be like that cuz it’s HIM) to be nothing more than a mischievous silly royal guard that wanted to keep causing trouble for Gaster but then it grew to be a bigger thing where he unintentionally became the symbol of hope and an entertainer for the whole underground before Trickster disappeared without a trace(?)

I’m still working on this whole concept so not everything is settled yet!! Well what I can also say about Trickster is that Alphys might be involved with the whole Trickster business too eheh

I’ve been practicing on drawing the characters so that I can draw better for this little au project of mine, I hope I can share my progress with you guys as things go on !!!

That’s the general stuff I’ve thought of so far, I hope you enjoy reading ! Thank you for reading and do feel free to ask whenever you have questions about the au or anything else :D✨✨✨✨

[philtstone]

Shawn/Juliet, "holding hands under the table"

i cant actually find which number it is from this list of prompts but that could just be my brain being fried from the week. also, everyone can feel free to send me more prompts lol. strike while the iron is hot, etc. this might be the most sedate tone i've ever hit with a psych fic. set immediately after the s5 finale -- like, hours after -- and hopefully the characters are all at the right place, emotionally. theres definitely a bit of a grey zone there in s5-6 where a lot is left unsaid but kind of known but also kind of not known. oh, jules.

She asks Lassiter to give her a ride because she probably shouldn’t be driving with a recent head injury. EMTs said no concussion, which is a good thing, but Juliet feels shaken enough that she’s going to do the intelligent, grown up woman thing and ask a friend for a favor.

She can’t help but wonder if maybe she does have a concussion after all, because Carlton behaves extremely fucking weirdly for pretty much the entirety of the drive.

Considering it’s Carlton, that’s really saying something.

“Vick gave me Shawn and Gus’s check,” she says as smoothly as she can, as they get in the car. It’s not entirely a lie, but it does feel oddly duplicitous in a way that holding hands with Shawn under the briefing table earlier didn’t. “Can you drop me off at the house?”

“House?” says her usually gruff partner, high-pitched. She’d caught him at the last second and kind of serendipitously, right as he was making his way out of the station, looking spooked, his jacket only half-on. At the time Juliet felt relieved, but now she’s wondering if maybe he’d needed some time to decompress before being made responsible for another person’s safety again. “What house? Spencer’s house? Doesn’t he live in a laundromat?”

“Henry’s house,” Juliet says, giving him a weird look while he turns the car on. His right eye is twitching. It’s possible that the evening’s events shook him more than he’s willing to admit; wouldn’t be the first time. “Gus told me they headed over there for the night. Carlton, are you alright?”

“I’m just spiffy,” he says through oddly gritted teeth, and sounds the opposite of. “One drop off, coming right up.”

Juliet decides she’ll figure it out in the morning. Her head kind of hurts, as does her elbow, and the catharsis she’d hoped to achieve through finally putting her signature down on that paper has left her a little bit shaky.

It feels good, though. She’ll probably have a good cry in the shower later on.

We did it, says Shawn’s voice in her head, so firm and final and confident. Her stomach and chest and general person are suddenly overcome with a slamming wave of affection she definitely was not prepared for. Swallowing, Juliet tucks her phone between her legs and shoots him a quick text. Wrapped up at the station.

Incoming text from SHAWN SPENCER:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BABE WITH THE POWER!!!!!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

u gonna go home & rest?

Shawn’s texts were exuberant before they started dating, too, but the million heart emojis are a recent development. Something about their introduction makes Juliet want to clench her hands together, melt into the ground, and laugh hysterically at the same time. Shawn turns being a walking contradiction into an art form sometimes. So terrified of facing all the love he’s got to give head-on, but so reckless and sloppy about leaving a trail of it around.

Maybe that’s why she’s fallen so hard for him, Juliet thinks; it matches her inexplicable combination of extreme trust and extreme caution.

Okay. Woah. Too much. Chill out, Juliet; now’s not really the time.

Not with Carlton showing all the signs of working through a hernia in the driver’s seat beside her, mere hours after Serial Killer Takedown.

Yeah, Juliet replies to her boyfriend, then lays her head against the cool car window, closing her eyes before she can notice Carlton’s alarmed glances at her phone.

When they pull up, half the house lights are on. Clearly no one is sleeping, despite the horribly late hour. Juliet glances down at her phone again and realizes it’s pushing three in the morning. She winces. 

“Are you going to be okay driving home?” she asks, one hand on the door handle. Carlton’s staring directly out of the windshield at the house, looking aggrieved in that way that gives him the general look and demeanor of a wet cat. She really hopes he’s okay.

“Fine,” he says. Juliet holds her phone against her lap and sighs. 

“Alright.”

“O’Hara –” he begins, pained, as she opens the door.

“Yeah?”

“I …” A beat. “Nothing. I’m – you get some rest tonight. And – and stay safe.”

“I will,” Juliet replies, surprised by how sincerely the words come out.

Given everything that’s happened, she didn’t expect her own confidence on the subject to be so strong.

Juliet steps out onto the front lawn and watches her partner drive away. Behind her the house silhouettes itself in its own lit glow and the quiet sounds and salty smell of the ocean close by begin to properly filter into her consciousness. She stands still for a few long moments in the dark, which is less threatening now than it was a few hours ago. The humidity thickens her hair and her breath fogs in front of her. When she got Shawn’s text that he and Gus were crashing at his dad’s house instead of the Psych office, call if u need anything jules, she’d been yearning for a shower a bit too much to really think about it. Once her paperwork was out of the way, though, a shower became less important than – whatever feeling brought her here.

Shawn would say it was the idea of pancakes. She likes to think she’s capable of marginally more emotional vulnerability than he is.

She bites her lip, then presses send on the text.

Home.

The response is an immediate string of emojis, mainly the heart bubbles but with the addition of a few inexplicable inanimate objects too. She’s not sure what the megaphone or candelabra or pineapple are supposed to represent, but she’s smiling when she knocks on the kitchen door, which is meaning enough for her.

Henry opens it. He looks — exhausted, about the same as Juliet feels, despite the lack of head injury or general bodily trauma. The lines in his face immediately soften at the sight of her. Juliet refuses point blank to allow her eyes to well up.

“In you come,” Henry sighs, making way. Dr. Spencer — Maddie, Juliet supposes — is at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea. Muffled sounds of a television come from the next room. Juliet vaguely recognizes them as Phineas and Ferb.

At her entrance, Madeline raises an interested eyebrow and glances at Henry, but beyond that moment of silent communication says nothing.

“Do you want some tea?” she asks simply.

“Please.”

Henry squeezes her shoulder, gently enough that she realizes he somehow noticed and filed away all her injuries earlier. Henry Spencer the detective still surprises her sometimes. “Boys are in the living room,” he says, and goes back to the table while his ex-wife putters around the kitchen more comfortably than is probably wise.

Juliet chews on her lip again. An amused smile fights its way to the surface, coupled with an odd twang of yearning that doesn’t really make much sense. Poor Shawn, she thinks, and it's almost a laugh in the same way she’s almost about to cry. But that’s been true all evening. Henry pulls out another old photograph from the box they seemed to be sorting through before her arrival and peers over the top of his reading glasses.

“Oh God, can you believe I used to wear this stuff in public? You hated this thing.”

“If by this thing you mean that horrible yellow suit …”

“See, it wasn’t the yellow that was the problem. The cut did nothing to flatter my physique.”

Madeline is laughing when Juliet slips out, chamomile tea in hand, to the living room.

At the entrance she stops and takes her heels off. Phineas and Ferb is playing, and loudly at that. As promised, Shawn and Gus are huddled on the couch nursing their empty pancake containers, smelling like sugar and more or less dressed in PJs; she spots what’s surely one of Henry’s old fishing t-shirts, cartoonish in the logo and slightly too baggy on Shawn. She knows any old clothes he keeps in the closet here probably don’t fit him anymore. Juliet wonders if Gus went home to change or if he, too, borrowed clothes. Shawn’s hair has flattened a bit where he must have yanked his shirt down over his head, floofy the way it can be in the mornings sometimes. He’s holding a pillow against his chest. Gus’s sock has a hole in the big toe. Every so often one or both of them will giggle at the TV. 

Her eyes do well up, then. 

Of course Shawn picks that exact second to notice her.

He notices a lot of things, Juliet has come to observe, few of which fit congruously with the many things he forgets or overlooks or can’t be bothered over. She wonders if that’s just an extension of how the spirits work, and if he’d explain it to her if she asked him. There’s a resigned part of her that doesn’t think he will, and a practical part of her that guesses at an attention deficit diagnosis that probably gave him some grief growing up and doesn’t really pair well with psychic visions or an enduring fear of being too vulnerable.

Three in the morning is too late to be mulling any of this stuff over, Juliet thinks. Besides which, most of it becomes suddenly irrelevant as she’s hit with the expression that takes over his face at the sight of her.  

Three in the morning, she reminds herself. Near death experience. Don’t read into it.

Shawn doesn’t say anything, only looks at her with all that throat-closing tenderness Juliet has ignored so many times before. I think you’re swell, he’d said. In some ways, she’s always been able to see right through him without even trying. 

Gus is wedged right beside him, hogging the blankets. There’s enough room on the couch for Juliet to fit on the other side of them. 

She walks over, hands Shawn her tea, and climbs into his lap. Her knees bend over his right leg, her shoulder sinks into his chest and her head settles against his neck. Shawn still doesn’t say anything. He just sets the mug down carefully on the floor, takes a deep, relieving breath, and wraps his arms around her. She hadn’t really worried that Gus might complain, but when he reaches over unprompted and squeezes Juliet’s unhurt elbow, the last little knot in her chest dissolves fully. She gropes her hand over the upholstery and squeezes his arm back.

“... latest in my brilliant line of ‘Inators, I call it the Unlikely-Inator! She pairs beautifully with the Likeli-Inator 2000. Together, Perry the Platypus, I shall use them to somehow take over the Tri-State area, and then the world!”

“You wanna change?” Shawn murmurs into her hair after a moment. 

“Later,” Juliet says.

“Mmmkay.”

The old t-shirt is soft against the skin of her cheek and smells like laundry detergent. The rest of the house smells like a family lives in it, even though Juliet knows that’s not really true, and it also smells like Shawn, a little bit. Shawn smells like Shawn, too. His chest rumbles beneath her with every soft laugh the cartoon pulls out of him. 

“Oh – oh, remember this, this next bit is really funny,” Gus says. His voice is just as soft as Shawn’s.

“Man, you know I have this whole show memorized.”

“I’ve never really seen it,” Juliet says quietly. They watch as the little platypus karate kicks Dr. Doofenshmirtz in the head.

“I know,” says Shawn. “But that’s being rectified. Ha! Gus, we should turn the Psych office into a funhouse next week. Just to see if we can.”

He pats her thigh and Juliet feels a small smile turn up the corners of her mouth against Shawn’s neck.

“Shawn, I am not stepping foot in another amusement park since that crazy-ass chick and her boyfriend tried murdering everyone last month. We can try turning it into a bunny sanctuary instead.”

“I like the way you think, hermano. Wait wait, here comes the explosion. Classic!”

She falls asleep slowly, lulled by the comfortable heat of Shawn’s body and the muted, silly sounds from the television. 

When Juliet wakes up, her cheek is pressed against an actual pillow, she’s horizontal, and she has no idea what day it is. She blinks against the grit in her eyes and the fact that her whole body is sore before realizing she slept on a couch. Someone put a pillow under her head and a blanket over her body and took the time to change her out of her gross work clothes. She looks down, only mildly discombobulated. She’s wearing the old fishing t-shirt Shawn had on last night and what must be a pair of Madeline’s pajama pants. They’re a pretty purple color and silky against her legs. She definitely still has her underwear on. A soft snore comes from the ground below her and Juliet realizes she’s still in the living room at Shawn’s dad’s house; Shawn himself is burritoed in an ancient sleeping bag on the ground directly beneath her and Gus is sprawled on a camp bed that’s a bit too small for him on the other side of the coffee table. They’re both still fast asleep. The light coming from the window is light enough that it’s properly morning, but the rest of the house is still dead quiet. A soft blue light appears suddenly on the coffee table; her phone is vibrating, which she realizes must have been the thing that woke her up in the first place.

She reaches carefully over Shawn to grab it. The home screen shows a text from Carlton, received minutes ago.

Got home alright?

She could say that Gus gave her a ride; it would be another easy lie, and he’d happily corroborate it. She hates the idea, though. She looks down at Shawn’s sleeping form, the unruly tuft of hair poking out from beneath the blankets and the drool on his pillow. Telling Carlton would be a bad idea, she knows.

Juliet types, for a second time trying not to think too hard about it, Yes, home. Safe and sound.

She sinks back into the surprisingly comfortable couch cushions, instinctively curling into herself, full of feeling she can’t quite articulate. After a moment of staring silently at the wall, Juliet turns onto her back and reaches one quiet arm down. The tips of her fingers meet the soft warm skin of Shawn’s ear, and when he doesn’t wake up, she keeps her knuckles there, barely moving, only rubbing her thumb up and down every so often. 

Everything else can be a problem for tomorrow. Slowly, she falls asleep again. 

[blessyatoz]

longfic (+48k words and on posting) tags: pro-hero izuku midoriya, manager au, falling in love, humor read all on AO3 excerpt from chapter four: how to follow a Pro-Hero on patrol

The room was shrouded in darkness.

It was cold—the windows in Izuku's room were wide open, and no blanket covered him. He always left them that way: in case something happened, in case someone called for help, in case anyone needed him, he would hear it.

Hikage-san's Danger Sense would alert him to any significant danger approaching, yes, he knew that. But it was a habit, a routine he had developed. One that gave him a certain sense of security, somehow. So he kept doing it, always leaving them open, always feeling the cold.

It was more than the middle of the night, once again. He never got home before this hour in recent years. His alarm was set to go off in four hours and forty minutes.

He should be sleeping.

But here he was, eyes glued to the ceiling, replaying a memory from earlier today.

Yo, Uzuki-kun! I’m Marin, nice to meet ya!

A memory of Marin’s words to a little boy, at sunset, in the middle of a children’s playground. A sandbox.

He remembered how he had arrived there. It hadn’t taken long to resolve the emergency he’d been called to—he made sure everyone was safe, talked to the police, and returned to the park sidewalk where he’d left his assistant. He just hadn’t expected her not to be there anymore exactly where he’d left her.

But a quick glance at the horizon was enough to spot her, the tips of her pink hair giving her away from a distance—she was in a sandbox, apparently talking to some kids. He smiled. Kitagawa-san was naturally social (and a bit crazy fun, for sure, he thought with a chuckle) so she was probably playing with them.

Izuku then began to walk in her direction, but he stopped. He stopped behind some bushes when a group of boys came running out, looking terrified—they even bumped into him on the way.

None of them apologized or acknowledged his presence; they seemed too scared to notice, driven by a need to escape evident in each of their faces. All he heard as they talked among themselves was:

"That shitty quirkless Uzuki, he’s gonna get it when he’s alone!"

"Yeah! We’ll get him good!"

That got Izuku out of guard.

And before he could say anything (something that might change their minds, something that might make them less scared), the kids had already disappeared from his sight.

Then Izuku looked ahead, through the tall bushes. And he heard:

"Yo, Uzuki-kun! I’m Marin, nice to meet ya!" He saw Marin smile brightly, gently patting a boy’s hair. The little guy was crying. "So, what happened here, huh? Were those your friends?"

“Th-they are.” Midoriya heard the boy stammer and lower his gaze, sniffling again. The scene seemed strangely familiar to him. "T-they were making fun of me."

"Why’s that, huh? You seem like such a cool kid to me!"

The boy swallowed hard, looking away. As if he felt ashamed. As if he felt guilty.

He took a while to respond.

"B-b-because..." He seemed afraid to say. "I-I’m q-q-quirkless… Just because I wanted to be the hero in our play… S-Sorry, One-san. Sorry! I-I-I don’t wanna bother y-you!”

Strangely familiar to him.

“Nah, don’t worry, little guy! You don’t have to apologize to me! You not bothering me, okay?! You looked like you were asking for help! I’ve come anyway.”

Izuku felt a gentle breeze brush against his face—Kitagawa-san's words somehow touching him.

Like he was asking for help, huh? 

“S-sorry! Sorry, one-san!”

"Don’t say sorry, little guy. These guys are a bunch of jerks." Kitagawa-san, don’t swear in front of kids! Izuku thought automatically. But that wasn’t where his mind was really focused. It was on something else. On her all other words. On how she seemed to care. On how all of this was bringing back memories.

“Huh?”

“A bunch of jerks, that’s what I said. Those friends of yours are j.e.r.k.s,” Kitagawa-san continued, with an expression Izuku recognized as nothing less than comedic indignation. “How can they know you won’t be an incredible hero, huh? Impossible! You’ve got a whole future ahead of you, Uzuki-kun! What nonsense…!”

‘B-but they’re not wrong, Marin-onesan. I-I-I… I-I don’t have—”

“Don't have a quirk?” The boy nodded, a tear running down his nose. He looked like he was about to cry again. But Kitagawa-san was quicker, smiling that big smile of hers, the kind that Izuku couldn’t even count how many crinkles it created around her eyes. “And since when does that mean you can’t be a hero?”

The words seemed to jump out of Kitagawa’s mouth, like her body, her mouth moved before she even had the chance to think straight. As if she didn’t need it. As if she was sure of it.

All Might's first words to him pop into Izuku’s mind. Why?

I cannot simply say, ‘You can become a hero even without power.’

Was what he first said to him. Before all.

“B-but—”

“But nothing! Listen to your one-san! Isn’t this your dream?”

Izuku saw the boy nod, the tearful expression starting to fade from his little face. Kitagawa-san then carefully picked up the fabric from the ground and gently tied it around the boy’s neck. 

It was a cape. A green one.

“Then no one can say anything about it, gotcha?! No one can tell you what you can or can’t do! ONLY YOU! Don’t let those idiots’ opinions mess with your goal, okay, Uzuki-kun?!” Kitagawa-san was like a wall of confidence, unshakeable, with an unbreakable belief. The boy’s eyes sparkled with admiration, practically twinkling with stars. More than admiration—Izuku knew it: it was hope. “You’re not only can, you are going to be one hell of an amazing hero! I know that!” And Izuku knew, Izuku knew exactly what felt like to hear something that. The words he always wanted to hear. He had dreamed of it for too long as a child not to know. To have someone say that to you. To have someone encourage you like that, even when no one else believed in you. Just like All Might had done for him once, when made him his sucessor. “And then you’re gonna rub it in those idiots’ faces just how wrong they were!”

Izuku watched Marin make those ridiculous punching sound effects in the air, making the boy laugh.

“Yeah!” He cheered, throwing punches in the air.

“You’re gonna be the greatest hero in the world!”

“Yes!”

“And you’re gonna kick a ton of villain asses!”

“YEAH!” And then Izuku heard Marin’s laugh, loud, expansive, and contagious, the kind you could hear even from miles away.

“I believe in you!” Izuku heard Kitagawa-san say, and the All Might’s voice saying ‘You can become a hero.’ was the thing that came to his mind. “And I’m counting on you, okay? I’m, like, super clumsy and always getting into trouble. So in a few years, you better be ready to be my hero, okay, Uzuki-kun?”

Izuku listened.

What was that trying to leak from his eyes?

“I'll be, Marin one-san!” The sad expression had long since left the boy’s face. All that remained now was a smile—and a look of courage and determination.

Izuku watched them laugh quietly for a few moments, as if soaking in the comforting feeling of the silly, stupid promise they’d made. But Izuku knew that it wasn’t a silly promise. Not either stupid.

To that boy, it wasn’t.

Kitagawa-san had done something there. Something big, real. Like a real hero. Something that many heroes would never believe in or have the guts to do. That almost no one ever said it to him back in the past, just All Might. And that was more than—

He realized: what was that trying to leak from his eyes? Those were small tears. Tears. 

Why did he was about to cry? He didn’t know… He didn’t know how they had gotten there—they just… were.

At that moment, he heard Marin’s voice say in a strange and funny tone:

“Do you want ice cream?” He saw her offer a completely melted ice cream to the boy. 

One of the scoops fell comically to the ground.

“No.” The boy was emphatic—as Marin looked at him with a face that ranged between offense and indignation. Izuku found himself laughing softly, a bit silly, a bit shaky.

He was still an emotional mess, wasn’t he? Crap.

The boy waved towards something further away, and Izuku noticed it was his parents. The boy then began to walk away from Kitagawa-san, a smile of pure determination and confidence lighting up his entire face. He never took his eyes off her when he said:

“Thank you, Marin-onesan! You can be sure I’ll be an amazing hero and I’ll save you! Please wait for me! I’ll show you! I’ll show everyone!”

That was the memory of today. And Izuku remembered, Izuku remembered the whole scene perfectly. As if it had happened to him. Just like he remembered when All Might believed in him.

And Kitagawa-san says that he, Izuku, is the incredible one.

Kitagawa-san had been an even more incredible hero that day. Even though she didn’t know.

Suddenly, he noticed: he wasn’t as cold anymore.

The window remained open, always open—the curtains swayed and swayed slowly, the night breeze filling his room at home.

That night, Izuku didn’t have much time left to sleep.

That night, his alarm would go off in less than three hours now.

He was tired, exhausted.

But still, he drifted into sleep with a smile, a quiet warmth settling deep within him.

AUTHOR NOTES:

HELLO TUMBLR that's a tiny little except from my fic Izuku Midoriya/Original Female Character. We already have six chapters posted. Feel free to check out the all chapters and tags on AO3! Hope you enjoyyyy! Comments and kudos are appreciated, I just love to know what u guys are thinking about the shipp dynamic <3

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

For your newest make me write. Im in a huge complete supernatural/fantasy like AU mood here recently so my requests are going to be towards that this week. Also both of them are supposed to be 15 emojis apiece so can we pretend they are if they are not? (Kinda sorry about all the zombies…but feel free to sub everything to vampires or another WIP if you want)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(Im so ready for the Maddie/Buck reunion and ensuing shenanigans. I think by the time you get to to this that the new chapter *may* be out that goes over that. But im also enjoying other aspects of the story as well. I very rarely read bathena start fics so their relationship developing is exciting for me to see as well).

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸 🩸(Spoilery for those not caught up BUT OMG BUCK WHAT DID YOU DO?!?! I was not ready for that!)

Woohoo 90 total sentences for monster fics!

45 for 🧟 (THANK YOU!!!):

---

 “Just… Be careful.”

Chim thinks he probably should listen to her. But he also knows he likely won’t. 

▪️▪️▪️

If anything, Chim gets worse. And that might be problematic if his feelings were one-sided, but after dinner, it becomes more or less obvious that they are not.

They do dishes together. A chore Chim usually finds tiresome, but now is somehow fun. Christopher and Denny have already begged Maddie, Hen, and Karen to have a sleepover together. Something Chim finds somewhat redundant, seeing as every day forever is a sleepover here. But Chris wants to sleep in Denny’s room. 

“Please,” Karen had insisted when Maddie had asked if they were sure it was okay. “He finally gets to have friends his own age. Chris can have as many sleepovers as he wants.”

So Maddie is off kid duty tonight. 

“Other than movie night,” she asks as they’re finishing up with dishes. “What is there to do around here in the evenings?”

“You got something against movie night?” Chim teases.

“No!” Maddie insists. “Just exploring my options.”

“Well, there are games,” Chim says. But then he has another thought. “Or the roof.”

“The roof?” Maddie asks. 

“Yeah. We’ve got chairs up there. We can steal your brother’s stereo. It’s great for looking at the stars. Now that the light pollution is gone.” 

Chim wonders if this is too weird. Too forward. Too intimate. Too much like a date, if the world was normal enough to afford dates. Actually, scratch that. He knows Hen has set up a date for Karen up there, under the stars. On their wedding anniversary. God, what is he doing?

“That sounds really nice,” Maddie says. “Would you… Would you want to do that with me?”

God, obviously.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

---

45 for 🩸 (Buck's gonna Buck!)

---

“Neither am I,” Eddie says. “Okay?”

Buck nods, still a little weepy. 

“Okay.”

💧💧💧

As tired as he is, Buck can’t really sleep for very long periods. A wound to his front and a wound to his back means nothing is comfortable. Eddie helps set him up on an assortment of pillows to prop him in just the right position, but it’s still a more or less futile effort. He manages to get a little bit of rest when his pain medication sets in, but otherwise, he’s awake and uncomfortable. 

Brought down to reality by his conversation, Buck really gets a chance to think through what he’d nearly done. Not the killing part - which he’d been more focused on before - but the dying part. And the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks about just how right Eddie was. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want their life together to be over just as it finally started.

He really let that compulsive need to fix everything almost get him killed. Maddie was right. He needs to deal with this properly. This pit of dread that lives in his chest that says he is going to lose everything horribly. That says life will never be safe again. He needs to address that head on, and not by trying to be one step ahead of every possible danger. He needs to go back to therapy. He will, he decides. The minute he’s physically up to it.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says again, later that night, when everyone is sleeping and Buck is laying awake beside Eddie. He knows he’s probably going to be saying it for a long time. 

Eddie blinks awake. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry,” Buck repeats. 

“For waking me up?” 

“No, for everything.”

Eddie sighs. “I forgive you. I’ve already forgiven you.”

“But I’m still sorry.” 

“Buck,” Eddie complains. “Don’t do this. This doesn’t help. Believe me, I know.”

“I’m going to go to therapy,” Buck says. 

“That’s a good idea,” Eddie says. “We could both use therapy. Do you think there are vampire therapists?”

“If there’s not, there should be,” Buck replies. “They’d have the corner on the market right now.”

“Exactly,” Eddie says. “And surely some shrink out there got bit?”

[suzukiblu]

Superboy?

There's like . . . this thing, kind of, that's been happening with the team. Like . . . just lately, kind of. Just a little.

That thing is why Kon's arms are currently full of icy smoke and Suzie is busy kissing him like they don't need to breathe.

Well, she actually doesn't, admittedly? And he's been needing to less and less, it kinda seems. So like . . . yeah.

She rubs her inconstant body against his, and her breasts press into his chest and then flatten and reform into a more masculine shape, and maybe normally Kon would protest the loss of them but it's so obviously just because she wants to get just that little bit closer that he really can't bring himself to complain.

Although she was really thorough when she reformed, so it does mean now her cock is rubbing against him.

That's a new experience, technically. This whole thing that's been happening is a recent development, and Robin's never gotten this close to him due to an unfortunate problem with Bat-heterosexuality that he did not throw out the window quite as eagerly as Kon threw out his Super-heterosexuality, while Bart on the other hand has just never stayed still long enough for him to feel anything too obvious. But Suzie is still kissing him and pressing into him and shaping her body to fit against his just right, and she's still so small and soft in his arms and just so–

"Oh my god, why is that so unspeakably hot," Cassie says feelingly as she stares at them from the doorway. Suzie squeaks in surprise and Kon startles and they fall off the couch together like they're total idiots who can't both fly or something. "No, no, don't stop on my account. Please don't stop on my account."

"Hey, Cass," Kon says as he tips his head back to look up at her, only completely mortified. "Uh . . ."

"Um, sorry," Suzie says sheepishly. "Is this weird? Did I make it weird?"

"Desperately weird," Cassie confirms. "Now please make it weirder."

". . . how is this supposed to get–" weirder? Kon starts to ask, but then Suzie bites her lip and that inconstant form reshapes itself a little more and tendrils of her smoke wrap around his thighs and tug them apart, and then Kon is, well . . . and then Kon is on the floor with a guy about twice his size pressed up between his legs all mist and muscle and Suzie's bright, intent eyes.

And, like . . . also her cock. Very much also her cock. Which is very definitely noticeably bigger, now. Bigger in, well . . . more than one way.

Kon might need a moment here.

"Uh," he says, blinking stupidly at her.

"Is this okay, Kon?" Suzie asks, and her voice is a low, unfamiliar rumble that goes right through him. "Or did I, uh, did I go too weird?"

"Weird, yeah," Kon says, his own voice a little faint. "Way weird. Uh. So just . . . c'mere, maybe, and don't stop being weird."

"Thank you for this gift," Cassie says approvingly, and Suzie giggles, then smiles brightly down at Kon and kisses him again.

He's gonna need more than a moment, he thinks.

[cementcornfield]

The flaws in the team - is this fixable in one offseason?

I’m worried they’re gonna see how close some games were and talk themselves out of making necessary changes 😕

god. i have no idea. the thing is that the bengals have always had this reputation, and it's a fair one for the most part. but as a new fan, i've only been experiencing these good years. (became aware of them during the super bowl, really got into them the next season. luckily became a fan right around when they went on a 10 game win streak so like, i wasn't aware this team DID lose?? and now look at me.)

i think, if you want to be Fair, the front office and organization HAVE been making changes. selling the stadium naming rights, making an in-season trade, paying joe the most guaranteed money they've ever paid, these are all steps in the right direction. but you can also fairly point out that a lot of this is way too little too late. they are far far behind the way most other front offices are run, and we're seeing the consequences of that.

i hope that progress keeps being made. i hope they see what they have in joe and ja'marr after this insane season, and see how they've let them down. i think joe (and certainly ja'marr lol) is the type to speak his mind when he sees something he's not happy about. i'm not sure how much power or sway he does have in the organization, but i imagine it's more than pretty much any player they've had til this point. and i can only hope they listen to him!! (without him having to threaten a trade, which i wouldn't blame him for. but i don't think it's come to that quite yet.)

in terms of what changes they could reasonably make this offseason, i think we need to (ONCE AGAIN) focus on drafting and signing defensive talent. it sucks because oh my god we've dedicated so many resources to that the last few years, but we just keep missing (and of course letting the actual proven talent go, assuming we can replace and it turns out we can't!) and then when you think about how high-potential players haven't developed, you do have to look at coaching. lou has been incredible for us scheme-wise the last few years. he is one of the few DCs who has proven he can consistently limit patrick mahomes, josh allen, and even lamar sometimes (less so this year lol). but! when you take away his top talent, he's not able to reproduce these results reliably. which i mean, that's a hard ask for anyone, but it's his job to work with the tools given, and two years in a row now he's proven that he can't set up the players he has currently on the roster for success. so the answer might be in replacing him? or at the very least, keep him for his scheming creativity but maybe replace position coaches? who actually work with and develop the guys every day?

i still think zac's job is safe. and i know i'm in the minority when i say i'm mostly okay with that. when you look at this team's problems, and what they've been able to do on offense this year despite key injuries, i still think that's impressive. and obviously you can attribute some of that to joe's ability to improvise, but i think when you look at the game plans recently, they've been pretty good overall. zac definitely still has trouble with deciding on when to be aggressive, and sometimes he gets too cute with shit, but i really don't think he's this team's biggest problem, and i think joe is still very much on his side. if that changes though, then yeah, i'd think zac's seat could get pretty hot.

oh i do think we need to get rid of frank though. our o-line is better at pass protection this year, especially when orlando is in and having one of his best years statistically. and i get that when we have joe at qb, we're always going to prioritize passing, that's fine. but i'm pretty sure we're dead last in run blocking. which is a shame because chase brown has shown he can be pretty special! but we need to give him SOMETHING to work with on these runs. and given that frank is the o-line AND run coordinator, it's pretty evident that he's the problem there. so maybe the team gets rid of him? hopefully?

i dunno, this has become a whole rant but these are just some of the things that i think could happen? and maybe if they do, we'll be in better shape next year to get things figured out. i'm excited to watch our young guys this season, see what we have in them. because they could definitely be the key to success next season!

[cottoncandyswirl828]

Zuma Appreciation Week: Day 3 - Favorite Moment

Okay, this one is a bit of a toss-up between two very similar moments. In Pups Save a Goodway, there’s a really cute moment where Ryder hands Zuma a bunch of balloons which cause him to nearly float away, and in Pups Save an Adventure, while Ryder answers a call from Mr. Porter, Zuma holds onto Ryder’s kite, which again causes him to nearly float away. Ryder is so nonchalant in both scenes, especially in Pups Save an Adventure, where he doesn’t even look up from his pup-pad to grab Zuma mid-air; it’s just too funny to me. Makes me wonder if Zuma flying off is just a regular occurrence, which is what I’ll be exploring today.

Ryder’s gaming session was abruptly interrupted by a call from his pup-pad.

“Ryder?”

“Yeah, Zuma?”

“It happened again…”

Ryder couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh boy, not again. You didn’t float too far this time, did you?”

“Thankfully, no. Got caught in a tree in the yard, just need some help getting down.”

“I’ll be right there.”

As Ryder exited the elevator, he found Chase waiting for him in the lobby of the Lookout.

“Ryder, we’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“I know. Zuma already called me. Don’t worry, I’ll get him down.”

“Thanks. I don’t know how he keeps getting into these situations.”

“Honestly? Neither do I.”

Chase led Ryder to the tree Zuma was stuck in, where the pup was currently dangling upside down from a parachute tangled up in the tree. Ryder tried to hold back his laughter.

“What happened this time?”

“I was helping Rocky with some maintenance on our parachutes and skydiving gear. The ripcord broke as I was testing how it fit, which released the parachute. A poorly timed gust of wind, and well, here we are.”

“I’ll go ahead and get a ladder.” Chase said, turning back to the Lookout.

“How is it that this always seems to happen to you and none of the other pups?”

“I don’t know. But that time with the kite was totally your fault.”

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Chase arrived soon after with the ladder, with Rocky helping to carry it.

“How’s it hanging, Zuma?” Rocky asked with a cheeky grin.

“Ha ha, very funny dude. Now can you please just help me get down? This is kinda your fault after all.”

“Hey, it’s not like I was the one that broke the ripcord.”

The parachute was tangled up pretty badly, so it took a while to get Zuma down. By the time he was back on solid ground, the poor pup was fighting dizziness from the blood that had rushed to his head.

“You okay, Zuma?” Chase asked.

“Yeah, just need a second to remember which sides up and which sides down.”

Meanwhile, Rocky was busy getting the rest of the mangled parachute down from the branches it was clinging to. “This is gonna take forever to fix.” He complained, looking over the knotted cords. “Ryder, can you help me?”

As Ryder helped Rocky with the parachute, Zuma flopped down inside his pup-house to sleep off the rest of his dizzy spell. But when he woke up, his head was still throbbing.

“Must’ve hit my head or something.” Zuma mumbled to himself before a strong gust of wind nearly knocked him off balance.

“What is with the wind today?”

"I think a storm might be coming." Skye replied, who was bringing the flowerpot she normally kept outside her pup-house into the Lookout for safekeeping.

"I noticed the winds shifting a lot recently, and Cap'n Turbot said his weather blimp picked up some strong winds headed this way."

"Can't say I'm surprised. I noticed a shift in the tides at the beach yesterday, a sure sign a storm's on its way. I'll call the Cap'n later and ask him to keep Ryder up to date on the storm's development, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you to be careful if you decide to go flying."

"Don't worry about me. I know how to navigate a storm, but thanks for looking out for me. Be sure to keep a look out for any storm surges."

"Will do."

Skye continued to put away anything that could fly away during the storm. Zuma had offered to help, and between the two of them, they were able to clear the yard pretty quickly.

“When do you think the storm will get here?” Zuma asked as he looked up at the sky to try and gauge the weather.

“Cap’n Turbot said it’ll probably get here tonight and blow over by morning. Oh! I forgot to mention, he also said to prepare for a possible power outage.”

“You should probably go tell Ryder that so he can be prepared.”

“Yeah, I will, thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem.”

As Skye ran off to tell Ryder about the possibility of losing power, Zuma did one last survey of the yard to make sure everything was put away.

As it turns out, a large tarp had been left out that, somehow, neither he nor Skye had noticed before.

“What’s this doing out here?”

Zuma grabbed the tarp in his teeth and was about to start dragging it away when-

“Hey! Hold on a minute!”

Rocky ran over to stop Zuma from moving the tarp.

“I need that tarp. I’ve been trying to recycle it into an airbag, but it’s too big to work on in the garage, so I brought it out here.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know. Just be sure to put it away when you're done, and make sure it doesn’t fly away. The wind has picked up a lot, and a storm is on its way; I just don’t want it to fly away on a gust of wind.”

“Like how you did?”

Rocky giggled at his own joke while Zuma just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

Another sudden blast of air whipped through the yard, so strong that it lifted the tarp off the ground.

“Uh oh!”

Zuma jumped up and managed to grab the tarp, but the wind was so strong that it ended up carrying him away along with the tarp.

“Not again.” he groaned through clenched teeth.

He briefly considered just letting go of the tarp, but he was already so high up in the air that he figured it was safer to keep holding on.

Fortunately for him, the winds calmed down just as quickly as they started up, and he fell unceremoniously from the sky and onto a tree branch… Which was dangling precariously over the edge of the cliff a few hundred feet above the bay.

Zuma sighed as he reached for his pup-tag to call Ryder for the second time that day.

[rayssyscourse]

My system is personally mixed on the ToSD, but our thing with it in general is that what it says about how children develop doesn't really match up with anything else on child development. Kids do have personalities, and while I might be wrong about this existing, I've never read anything on child development that actually validates the way the Theory of Structural Dissociation views childhood.

It actually works very well to explain why our endogenic system developed, but the reason my system doesn't inherently like with the way it's applied to systems isn't because we're "fantasy and iatrogenic" according to that other user. It's mostly because we do work with kids and in a way it feels a bit diminishing of children's experiences and think it applies better to just trauma and dissociation.

A lot of it really does make more sense if you apply it to trauma in general instead of just systems, which I believe was the original intention if memory was correct, but now people treat it like the System theory instead of the Dissociation theory. Especially since it has been applied to adults with PTSD.

Childhood development of plurality in general is still just under-researched and like it or not, systems that don't fit that model exist and without them being properly examined we can't say if the Theory of Structural Dissociation universally applies to systems or not. It's just a gap in research and there's no reason to dig in your heals and go "nuh uh" because we have decades of recordings with thousands of individuals in this broad umbrella of group that doesn't fit this model and still has never been properly looked at for how their development works.

I also don't think anyone is arguing that it doesn't exist, but just the levels of how much it should apply to systems and especially early child development is debatable.

sorry ive been bad about posting asks recently, been feeling a little burnt out :') by all means keep sending them, though; I might be slower to reply because busy and mental health but I do really enjoy reading them and responding to them when I do get around to it! <3

as I said a few other times on this topic, I'm not the reigning authority on the tosd (far from it), so I don't want to say a ton until I've had the time to read up on it a little more. that said, I think your take is pretty reasonable. i will say that it's very much still worth using and studying the tosd even if it may not apply to all systems, and that in almost everything there's gonna be outliers. but overall, yeah, I think it's okay to question stuff like that when we just don't fully know.

[binarybreak]

Hey all! Just wanted to say:

1) The season two premier was such a fantastic way to develop both interest and intrigue in the new season, I was so stoked, you all did a fantastic job making me (I can't speak for the rest of your audience) invested in these characters, the mystery of what happened to Team Baby, and what happens next. I completely understand your monthly release schedule (it's a tremendously impressive accomplishment, especially considering this is a fan project made by people who, I'm sure, have plenty else going on in their lives,) and I'd never be like "okay guys, hurry it up," but I will say that I'm very anxious to hear the next episode!

2) I'm reading over the rules for Digidice, and I just have one question: am I missing something, or is there no mechanical difference between the Tired condition and the Sick condition? Like obviously you'd play them differently as a character, but they're essentially the same thing rules wise?

3) Are there any plans for developing a bestiary/monster manual type of thing? Like obviously fans already know all the classic Digimon and are more than willing to run with fakemons so you wouldn't need pictures or lore, I'm just concerned about the poor DMs needing to come up with stat blocks for NPCs on the fly when things go off the rail. To be clear, I'm not asking you to make one, I was just thinking I might have fun making one, but I didn't want to bother if there's already one in the works

4.) I have tried actual play after actual play podcast. The first podcast I ever listened to was TAZ*, and since I loved it so much I scoured the genre for any more content I would like. You are the first actual play since TAZ to actually catch and hold my attention. I don't know what it is about you other than a simple matter of personal taste, but you are rocking it. Thank you for making this show

*Unless it was Ars Paridoxica. Definitely one of those two

1. Thank you! Trust me, I am also eager to get to the next part of the story. If I could do this show as my full-time job, and release a new episode every week, I absolutely would.

2. Yeah, currently they're just two different flavors of the same condition. Played different ways and cured in different ways. The condition system is something I'm probably gonna totally overhaul if I ever do a second edition.

3. At some point, we will probably release Digidice stats for all of the digimon that appear in Binary Break (canon and original). Might also stat out a fair chunk of the most popular canon digimon who don't appear in the show, just as a resource for other GMs, and cause making digimon in that system is legitimately fun for me. In the meantime, feel free to stat out as many canon digi as you wish. Some folks on my Discord server were recently discussing the possibility of a sorta collaborative project to make something along those lines, but right now it's just in the "wouldn't it be cool if" phase.

4. That is some wonderfully high praise. It really means the world to me to hear you say that. So far the reaction to the season 2 premiere has been just lovely. Thank you so much for sharing this with us. 💜

- Claire

[razorblade180]

And as a bonus because I felt it wouldn't fit with my last ask: It is mean to say Blake's character development when it comes to being in a relationship might have gone backward? I mean, you would think after Adam she would want to be more upfront with wanting to stand on equal terms with Yang. But Blake mostly went along with what ever Yang wanted in Vol 7-8. It makes her advice to Nora feel hallow and that she's back to where she was before she met the others. The only difference is that Yang is a way better person then Adam. I know I've probably brought this in an ask before, but it's something that I've thought about in recent days. Blake really got the short end when it came to her character.

I saw both of your questions so I’m just gonna combine them in this post.

You’re right about Blake not having much of a personal investment to Salem. That could’ve been solved by making Adam run back to Salem with the other villains in V5 instead of completely divorcing him from the main plot. There’s irony in him working with humans but they could double down on him simply wanting the world and enemies to suffer. I would’ve paid money to see Jacques’s face hearing a soldier say “Adam Taurus is in the manor.” You can argue Weiss needed more of reason at the beginning but that remedies itself by her learning Winter is supposed to be a maiden. She doesn’t need a specific villain. Her reason is making sure her sister doesn’t get murdered.

As for Blake’s relationship status, o stand by my opinion it makes the most sense for her to want to be single for a while. Nora’s character arch is a very nice message, but it honestly should’ve gone to Blake who needs it more because the entire show makes Blake act based on the partner they attach her to.

V1-V2 had her act based on what Adam trauma and she only stopped because Yang told her to get a grip. Her even finding the WF was with Sun’s help.

Blake wasn’t planning on doing much or letting people help her in V4 without Sun kicking her butt into gear for the next volume; also implying a little bit of romantic behavior since V1. Then V6 has her trying to be a good partner to Yang and once again deal with her ex. After that traumatic experience, the show has her flirting with Yang. I know V7 has time skips but the flirting started after the haircut which was only a few days after V6

The decision to tell Robyn was brought up and pushed by Yang without any say from the other teammates which personally bugged me. Yang is obviously a better person than Adam by far but you can make the argument Blake gravitates to strong willed and outwardly passionate people, which creates an environment where she has less agency, or more likely to be a follower. Especially in later seasons because she would actively be trying to be a better partner instead of a better teammate to all.

So yeah I also found it a little odd for her to be one saying “You have to know who you are outside of the other person” when the audience doesn’t really get Blake making strong decisions and statements that come from her own way of thinking and not outside sources. Her strongest choice was cutting the train to leave the WF.

Nora’s never had a problem telling Ren and her friends when she thinks something is dumb or wrong and that they should be doing something else. She took the lead in the V6 conversation telling Jaune to heal, and is perfectly fine slapping Ren to his senses when he needs to get a grip.

If you read this far, just know I actually like bmblb and I think Nora’s development was sweet, but I really wish Blake stood up on her own more often.

[sofia-d-asb]

Hi all, I'm going to start answering anon spoiler-y asks.

Below the cut, though!

Hello!! I recently just played your game and the demo was so good it was actually the first game I ever bought on steam!! I loved all of the characters and after doing Stanislas route his line in the epilogue scene KILLED me (the one where he’s like “I would have been too stupidly in love with you” pls my heart was gonna burst) I wanted to ask if MC had met Stan at least two years earlier and was willing to work with him for peaceful purposes and sway her family, how would have things been different? I really really am curious about the relationship that could have developed between Stan and MC in AU hahaha Thank you so much for the incredible game and for the incredible writing 😊

Thank you! And welcome to Steam :D

So, what if MC and Stan had met 2 years earlier? That would have been around the time Stan would be leaving the southern territories to go up north; at that point, he would have already been in the final stages of disillusionment with Arcadie and its governing family.

So if MC were astute enough, they would have been able to intercept him before he lost complete hope that there was any way to change how the d'Arcadies were conducting their affairs.

Could make for an interesting story. It wouldn't be an easy relationship between the two, but yeah, maybe they'd fall in love? The both of them against MC's family; Ariana would disapprove so much. Not sure MC's family would be completely swayed, but they might have made more concessions and definitely avoided being murdered...

Thanks for the fun question 😊

[swervenation]

Swerve x Human Liaison Reader PART 3

Another continuation of the fanfic inspired by @i-starcreamed: Swerve + a human liaison who starts off as quiet and distant. This is gonna be long as hell tho, I’m 5k words in and not even halfway done.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / ?

The song for this chapter is overdone but whatever.

The following day, you were working as diligently as always. You were proofreading a scheduled update on post-war developments for Earth with Ultra Magnus. (He was, by far, the bot you spoke with most aboard the Lost Light. Still, your conversations never got more personal than talking about rhetoric.) The two of you were debating the use of an Oxford comma in your report when Rung came by and asked for a moment of your time; you put a swift end to your quarrel by sending your message according to your grammatical tastes. Magnus opened his mouth as if to further argue, but looking at Rung, paused, closed his optics, and you could swear he took a deep meditative breath before nodding at you and walking off. Given the effect he had on your colleague and his slim un-warlike frame, it was easy to deduce his identity as a distinctive recurring character in Swerve’s tales.

As he approached you with intent and far too much warmth to be genuine, alarms went off in your brain… were you in trouble? Did they think you were mentally unstable? You controlled your voice and introduced yourself, then, before he could answer, you said, “You’re Rung, the ship’s psychiatrist - correct?”

Rung was somewhat taken aback that you knew who he was (and pronounced his name right, at that.) “Why, yes! How did you know?” His head was cocked in genuine confusion as he offered his servo for a handshake; the familiar gesture made you smile. Swerve had been the only other bot to extend the Terran introduction. This guy must have done some research on your culture beforehand.*

You didn’t really want to tell him he matched the description of the guy Swerve used as a weapon to bravely rescue Thunderclash, Rodimus, and Magnus. “Lucky guess. Is something the matter?”

“Not at all. I thought you might be having some difficulty adjusting to life on the ship, so I wanted to extend my services to you. I would have done so earlier, but I only recently learned that human and Cybertronian psychology were similar enough to make the offer useful to you.”

You realized this was the perfect opportunity to learn more about the way your crewmates acted and thought and accepted, deciding to meet when you were done with work that day. This was an opportunity for you - you’d pretend to benefit from therapy (because you were fine and everything was fine and you DON’T have self-confidence issues) in order to do more research.

You were about to turn back to your work when Tailgate came in - he and Rung greeted each other as they passed. He too walked right up to you.

“Hello, Tailgate, what brings you up here? I’m afraid you just missed Ultra Magnus, but I can go get him for you.”

“Actually, I came here to see you!” His voice was cheerful, even if you couldn’t read his hidden expression.

“Really?” A twinge of panic. Did this have to do with last night? Or had you done something else noticeable, without realizing it?

“Yeah! I know you usually sit alone in your little penthouse, so I wanted to invite you to sit at the bar with me and my friends.”

“O- oh. At Swerve’s? Right up there, at the bar? Well, I’m worried I’d get crush. Crushed. Whirl almost sat on me when I first came in.”

“Don’t worry, we’d look after you! Cyclonus is a great bodyguard,” he remarked, gushing over him. You knew that those two were an item, and maybe Cyclonus wasn’t as scary as he looked. But still. You weren’t eager to come face to face with him after that glare he gave you. You knew some bots held grudges against organics, and you worried that he was one of them. “Actually, you could probably sit on the bar. That would keep you safe, and I don’t think Swerve would mind.”

The suggestion made your blood run cold. You thought about it often enough. Your legs dangling over the bar, onto his side - you’d probably kick them mindlessly like you usually do when you’re really absorbed in his storytelling. Sometimes, you preferred to imagine you were invisible in this scenario - same deal as the organic suite, but with a better view. Other times, you’re chiming in with witty comments that everyone appreciates. Especially him. Laughter lights up his face and you’re in the blast radius of that breathtaking smile. Maybe he looks at you as you make your remarks, the way you look at him. Maybe you don’t look away from him, maybe you’re so sure of yourself and so sure that you can fit in this alien setting that you don’t even flinch when you make eye contact. A favorite version is when you stay as the bots trickle out for the night, so lost in conversation that you forget to leave. He’d have his work cut out for him, cleaning up, but you’d slip onto the other side of the bar and help out. He would be moved. He would offer to escort you to your habsuite on the other side of the ship. On the walk, you would string together a magic combination of words which would -

“You okay?”

“Oh! Yeah. I, um, I’m not sure. I mean, I really appreciate the offer. It’s just. I. Uh.” You could not think of a single excuse. You moved your hands around as though you were still speaking and looked up at Tailgate. Your throat was dry, you couldn’t breathe. “I’m … Not … ” you squeaked out, somehow unable to shake the last word from the tip of your tongue even after a few excruciating seconds. Gesturing hopelessly at yourself, you wished that he could understand this floundering charade. Ready. I’m not ready.

Tailgate was puzzled by this malfunction. He didn’t know what the end of that sentence was, but it certainly wasn’t good. “Oh … ok … bye, see ya.” He felt like he had made a fool of himself as he left. He should’ve stuck with his gut and not listened to Cyclonus. Here he was, going out of his way to be rejected.

You couldn’t handle thinking about your absolute failure. At least not until your appointment with Rung. When you had blazed through your tasks for the day, you asked Magnus for more work to do. Anything to put off remembering that interaction. He instantly forgot your grammatical spat and was thrilled by your burgeoning workaholism, especially since he himself was drowning in responsibilities. It felt good to be appreciated. It’s possible you were rather starved for any positive interaction.

Well aware that it might be a little pathetic, you were rather excited for your appointment with Rung. He was about as unintimidating as giant robots came, and you imagine he’d understand your floundering more than the others, if not help you stop it.

---

For the first part of the session, he asked for the broad strokes of your personal history. When he started asking about your life on the ship, though, you were reluctant to speak.

“Have you made any friends on the Lost Light?"

“I don’t think so,” you mumbled.

“ Have you been socializing with anybody on board?”

“Ultra Magnus, I suppose.”

“Great! He’s very level-headed, very responsible, it makes sense that you’d get along. I’m glad to hear you’re spending time with him outside of work.” He jotted down some notes but, looking back at you, noticed that your expression was contorted, as though you were considering correcting that assumption. “... Outside of work, right?”

“... No.”

“Hm. I’m noticing there isn’t much of an ‘outside of work’ for you. So, what drew you to this work?” Rung asked, closing his datapad. “Most ‘liaisons’ we’ve had on board were here mostly for the adventure. If I may be so bold, that doesn’t seem to be your motivation.”

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t think arguing with Magnus about punctuation is adventurous?” you laughed.

“Perilous? Maybe. Adventurous? I don’t think so.”

Your humor apparently wasn’t enough to deflect this line of questioning. With his head tilted, hands folded on his lap, optics on you, and expression accepting and curious, you couldn’t help but answer. “It’s … rather creepy. But I’m kind of fascinated by Cybertronians.” You went on to describe how much you’ve studied to prepare for a diplomatic role like this one, learning as much as you could to be able to understand and interact with their species.

“That’s not strange at all,” he assured you, “Especially considering the impact our kind had on your planet. I know some bots on this ship with a similar appreciation for Earth culture, actually. Anyways, what’s become of that fascination?”

“Now that I’m here, it makes me feel … paralyzed. Suddenly you all are more than a history lesson or a TV program or a textbook diagram. After waiting for an opportunity like this for so long, I’m afraid I’ll mess up and make everyone on the ship hate me.” Something about him made it difficult for you to keep any of these thoughts to yourself.

“I sincerely doubt that’s possible. Someone on this ship shot me in the head, and I’m still friends with him.” Seeing your dropped jaw and utter confusion, he helpfully explained, “Don’t worry, I got better. The point is, it’s more difficult than you think to ‘mess up.’”

“But just after we met earlier today, I did just that. Tailgate invited me to hang out tonight with him at Swerve’s -” your throat caught at this name but you powered on. “I was so nervous, I said no … but I couldn’t come up with a good reason why. I panicked so hard that I couldn’t even explain why I was panicking - I probably gave him the impression I dislike him.”

You began to lament that you destroyed any chance of friendship with him, but Rung pointed out that the ‘damage’ wasn’t irreparable - you shouldn’t assume Tailgate was unwilling to hear your explanation. So you drafted a comms message to Tailgate, with Rung stepping in to ask therapist-y questions and give therapist-y advice. (“You apologize repeatedly - why do you think that is?”) You thought the message was pretty effective:

Hi, Tailgate! Your invitation was such a pleasant surprise. I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t care to spend time with you. I turned your offer down because, although I would really like to get to know you, I’m still very nervous on this ship. A crowded environment like the bar would overwhelm me right now. Would you be interested in hanging out on the observation deck instead?

You smiled as you sent it off. It felt like a weight had been lifted from you. But now, there was the new pressure of waiting for his response. Would he believe you? Would he hold a gr- nevermind, he already responded. That was quick! You would see him tomorrow after work, but right now, you were ready to curl up in your own room. No Swerve’s tonight - but you weren’t so convinced anymore that you’d never return to your favorite bar.

---

Rung, on the other hand, was at Swerve’s. He was having a pleasant conversation with Nightbeat when the bartender abandoned his post to interrupt him.

“Hey, Rung,” Swerve said as he tucked one shanix into a compartment on the psychiatrist’s shoulder, “That’s my copay - you’re my counselor now, so you’re legally not allowed to tell anyone what I say to you.” He remembered something like this from Breaking Bad. Granted, that was a fictional show set in an entirely alien legal system, and the guy who was paid was a lawyer, not a psychologist - but the same rules probably applied.

“That’s not how it works,” Rung sighed, “But I can promise you as a friend I’ll keep it between us.”

“Gotcha - anyways, I’m worried about y/n. They always show up here, no matter how much work they have, but they didn’t come tonight.”

Rung cocked his head, unsure what Swerve wanted him to do with this information, and unsure of why you didn’t mention your constant visits to the bar. “Why do you need this to be confidential, exactly?”

“Well, why do I say anything? I thought it was funny. It’s an Earth joke - trust me, if you were Terran, you’d be rolling. But it’s all good, man.” (a smile to himself.) “Seriously, though, I know they like staying on the sidelines,” he chattered as he gestured to your ‘organic suite,’ “So I don’t think they’d want people speculating on their disappearance.”

“Aside from yourself, I take it?”

“I’m not gossiping, I’m just worried! I wanted to mention it to you because I know you talk to them.”

“Who - how do you know what patients I’m seeing?”

“Heh. You just told me.” Swerve smirked in spite of himself. He always wanted to use that line. “But in all seriousness, I didn’t mean ‘talk’ in a professional way. Tailgate just told me he bumped into you two earlier today.”

Rung rubbed his helm in frustration. “There are a lot of bots on this ship - a lot of them my clients - that would jump in an escape pod were they suspected of caring for their mental health. Why is Tailgate going around telling people who’s seen with me?”

“Don’t blame Tailgate.” Swerve jumped to the defense of his friend, perhaps a little thoughtlessly. “I asked.”

“You … asked?”

“I was just wondering about them, because they weren’t here, you know? And he just told me he’d invited them to sit at the bar earlier today, and they reacted strangely, so I just asked for context.” His already fast rambling sped up frantically. “They said this place was too ‘overwhelming.’ I still thought I’d see them here, though. They’re always here. They’ve seemed perfectly whelmed this whole time. What could it mean? Do you think they’re sick? Did they get in trouble? Are they alright, do you know what’s going on? Do they not like my bar anymore, I-”

“Okay, I’m keeping this ‘copay,’” Rung patted the compartment Swerve tossed the Shanix into, “And you’re coming to my office tomorrow. Let’s plan on two cycles before you open.” He was already entering it into the calendar on his datapad.

everyone is going on a mental health JOURNEY we are becoming MINDFUL

“Wh- huh? What? Why?!” - Rung opened his mouth to respond - “Actually, don’t answer that. Fine. Whatever. I’ll be there,” then, glancing back to the bar and racing back to his usual spot, “Hands off, Getaway, I’ll pour it myself! If you break that distillery, you’re paying for it!”

---

pls lmk how characterization is for rung and swerb, i’m not sure i got it right. you can pry the breaking bad jokes from my cold dead hands tho. also ik i’m being silly with mags, i think i deserve that as a treat :3