#that wasn’t the intention of this but i don’t have a better caption

[zarstarss]

sh2 if it was a secondhand slice of life manga selling for exactly $2

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Greetings and salutations and welcome to the FIRST EPISODE of what I’m calling

Bedtime Stories With PCE

Let me explain.

So I, like many other people, make up little stories in my head in my downtime, particularly when trying to fall asleep, and for the past year or so those stories have been South Park related, and wound up driving me to make an ao3 and actually write those stories down and curse the cyberspace with them, but the thing is, not all of my mental stories make it to even my notes, because I didn’t have the intention of writing them down. Either because they’re way too self indulgent and most people would be bored with lack of plot, or they’re just a continuation of an old Whumpshot that I think abt before bed, and I feel like if I were to put these bedtime stories out there it would be SUPER annoying, ESPECIALLY because

A lot of my little bedtime mental stories are OrangeJuiceVerse. Which is off putting enough as is, because I feel like while the series is all essentially stand alone stories that take place in the same universe, people look at a series with over 19 works and get overwhelmed because to be fair, that’s a lot even if most are oneshots. So I wanted to start a tumblr exclusive series, for the handful of people who would welcome the stuff I don’t feel confident enough to put on ao3, my little continuations to things that didn’t warrant a chapter 2 structurally, that kind of thing.

So, here’s the first episode! the most self indulgent couple thousand words of Stan taking care of an injured Kyle that I have ever done, following the events of Bicycle Lane , if ya read it lmk what you think, y’all know the drill, here

•covered•

Kyle woke up again without Stan beside him, and to to the noise of his phone ringing on the nightstand. Against his better judgement, he answered, already disgruntled at seeing the caller ID.

“Can I help you?” He grumbled.

Cartman’s grin was audible. “So you’re alive.”

Yep, this asshole would never learn to start a call like a normal person. “Why would you think I wasn’t alive, fatass?”

“Uh, because you look at least half dead in the picture your dildo sent?”

Kyle pulled the phone away from his face to open the ‘SP Survivors’ group, and groaned. Stan had sent a photo of Kyle, asleep with one arm draped over his eyes and the other holding Moose to his chest like a kid with a stuffed animal, and the caption was “Speak No Evil Take No Shit Broflovski won’t let a car take him out 🤘🏻”, which was definitely Stan’s attempt at calming himself by joking about the events of the day. Just without nearly enough context, naturally.

“I can’t believe he sent you guys that,” Kyle groaned.

“So you actually did get hit by a car?” Cartman’s tone took on that thinly veiled concern of his. “You hurt, bitch?”

Kyle rolled his eyes and glanced at the open bedroom door, pretty annoyed that he was starting to feel the ache in his body again now that he was fully awake, not to mention that he had woken up alone, but his boyfriend and cat were probably just downstairs. “I’m alright, jackass. Just banged up, but not bad.”

“Good, because if you died, the hippie would totally kill himself, and I plan weddings, not funerals.”

“That’s NOT fucking FUNNY, Cartman!!!”

He heard footsteps on the stairs after raising his voice. Thank God.

Cartman snickered. “Sorry, sorry, I think it is, though. Did you get a look at the license plate so you could sue the driver?”

“No, dude, it was fast as shit and they barely hit me anyway.”

“Traffic cams, idiot. You show the courts the picture of your battered little body, go to the er and milk it for all it’s worth, get a doctor to testify-“ of course Cartman was already scheming.

“I’m hanging up on you.”

“Not if I hang up on you first.” Then he added, “I’m glad you’re okay.” And dropped the call. Asshole always had to get the last word in.

Kyle laughed weakly and covered his eyes again, pulling his hand away only when he felt a tiny weight jump onto the bed. “Hi, little man.”

“Don’t know what world you’re in that’s got you calling me “little”, dude,” Stan joked, joining them.

Stan knew full well Kyle was talking to the cat. And he felt a thousand times better when Stan leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Hi, baby, you okay? When did you wake up from your nap?”

“Mm. Hi. A few minutes ago when Cartman called.”

Moose butted his little head against Kyle’s hand, looking to get pets. Stan smiled apologetically. “Yeah, sorry, dude, I figured the guys would call me for details since you were, like, asleep in the picture.”

“You know how Cartman is.” Kyle waited for Stan to get settled and then shifted himself so that his head was on his partner’s shoulder. “Did you have a panic attack while I was out? That why you went around telling the group that I faced off against a car?”

“Not a panic attack,” Stan assured him. “I just-I went to get our shit out of the truck and I was gonna start fixing your bike, and then I got to thinking about it again, what could have happened, you on the side of the road like that, you know.”

So definitely close to a freak out then. “Poor Stan.” Kyle placed a hand over Stan’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I’m okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

“You’re gonna stay that way,” Stan declared, his voice sounding like he did when he got really into a cause, like last year when he recruited Kyle’s ever eager to protest something mother for an anti-seaworld campaign. “Because I’m gonna nurse you back to health and never let anything happen to you again.”

Dramatic, cheesey, adorable, overprotective loser. Kyle snorted. “Nurse me back to health? What, am I a maiden who caught some mysterious illness and now must languish on the sitting room couch while my suitors bring me flowers? Is this a Jane Austen novel? What’s next, we have a dramatic kiss in the rain?”

The attempt to lighten the mood worked. Stan laughed and tenderly pressed his lips to his cheek.

“Sarcastic little fuck,” Stan chuckled. “Moose, I’m only giving your father a pass to be an asshole because he’s in pain and he’s cute.”

Moose had fallen asleep between them.

“Staniel, I have literally had worse, and so have you.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna baby you.”

He’d let Stan baby him, just a little, but only because he’d nearly had a full breakdown seeing Kyle hurt in the snow. Kyle would still pretend to argue against the coddling. “You better not-“

He was cut off by Stan’s phone vibrating with a FaceTime request from Kenny. Stan held it up with a grin.

“At least Ken has some sense.” He answered, and Kenny’s voice flooded forth.

“Stan the man! Show me the firefox!”

Kyle rolled his eyes at the nickname before Stan held his arms out farther to get them both in frame. “Hey, Ken.”

Marj popped into the screen too. “Kyle Broflovski! You’re tellin’ me you got hit by a car?! You better explain, mister.”

“I didn’t get hit by a car, it was more like a tap,” he insisted. “Driver didn’t even notice, it was so fast.”

Kenny gave a low whistle. “Still, though. Shit’s wild. You hurt bad?”

Stan handed him the phone so he could run his fingers through Kyle’s hair. Kyle showed his friends the bruise across his arm from trying to break the fall, which had developed into a blotchy purple over the past few hours.

“Gnarly, right? But it’s just some bruises and a twisted ankle. I’ll live. You guys tell Stan he doesn’t need to baby me.”

Marj laughed incredulously; Kenny grinned and shook his head. “That’ll be a sunny day in hell.”

“Huh?” Stan paused playing with Kyle’s hair. “Dude, the saying is cold day in hell.”

“Yes, but a lot of hell is actually cold, other than the lakes of fire and shit,” Kenny explained with that mischievous smile of his, like this should be common knowledge. “There’s no sun down there, though.”

Kyle was thoroughly confused, but his leg hurt and he needed to use the bathroom, so he didn’t ask for clarification. Plus even if he didn’t want to end the call, he’d learned that Kenny’s explanations for some of the stuff he said only confused you more.

He sighed. “I’ll take your word for it, man. Thanks for checking on me, guys.”

“Hey, we gotta keep an eye on each other, even if we went our separate ways,” Kenny said. “Can I draw a comic of you fist fighting Lightning McQueen?”

“He already started it,” Marj added.

Naturally. “Yeah, yeah, go for it. Love you guys.” He passed the phone back to his boyfriend.

“We’ll keep everyone updated,” Stan promised, like this was a life or death situation and not something that would have him laid up for two days, tops. “Bye, guys.”

“Peace.”

“Bye! Hope ya feel better!”

Kyle rolled his eyes again when Stan hung up. “Dude, should I be expecting a call from my mom next?”

Stan chuckled. “Nah, I figured you’d obliterate me if I told her.”

“And you were correct.” Because that would result in not only a three hour call, but also Sheila driving up so she could smother him. Kyle sat up slowly, irritated to discover that his back was stiff now too. “Bathroom quest,” he mumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He didn’t push away Stan’s arm around his waist either.

“Easy, easy.” Stan helped him up, warm and gentle as ever. “Can you put any weight on it?”

When he did, it didn’t feel great, admittedly. The bruises on the outside of his calf from the car grazing him ached with the weight at standing, his ankle was pretty sore, and his knee felt stiff. But it was for sure more annoying than, like, agonizing or something, so he gave Stan’s arm a comforting squeeze.

“It’s not that bad.” But he figured he’d let his partner take care of him if he wanted, because Stan had been really fucking scared this afternoon, and Kyle knew he needed this. “You can help me, dude, just don’t try to hold me up while I piss or something.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Stan said with a smile, helping him walk carefully across the hall. “You got it?”

“Yes, honey, I got it.” Kyle sighed when he shut the bathroom door. Ignoring the sting of the abrasions on his palms when he braced his hands on the counter, he studied his reflection.

If he was completely honest, reality was finally starting to set in. He hadn’t fully accepted until Cartman mentioning funerals that, well, he could have died. Kyle could keep it together for Stan’s sake, but it was starting to get to him too. If that car had been going any faster, if they’d been a few inches closer, if he hadn’t been wearing his helmet, if he’d been knocked into oncoming traffic rather than into the ditch…

Kyle quickly peed and limped back over to the sink to wash his hands. There was cat hair stuck to the bandaid on his right hand, which helped a little to see. He was okay now. He was at home with his sweet blue eyed boys, both of whom would be ridiculously affectionate, but right now, seeing the (well tended) scratch at his hairline in the mirror, the gravity of everything kept tugging at him.

Can’t panic right now, Kyle told himself. He was a damn middle school counselor, had been for a couple months, and he had grown up with what he now knew was generalized anxiety (thank you, psychology degree). He knew the signs of a ‘what if’ spiral and when it was more helpful to “play the movie” or focus on the present.

Chronologically organizing where he’d been versus where he was now was an exercise his therapist during outpatient in high school had taught him, to contextualize progress and the order of events, keep out of the spiral of hypotheticals. Okay.

He’d ridden to the library down the road when Stan went to the gym, because his boyfriend was trying to get back into a routine of self care since coming out of a depressive slump and working out reminded him that he was alive. Kyle’s library mission was to find more book recommendations for his students that were a little more recent than his personal favorites, and he’d started the ride home with a decent list of YA novels and a few authors to research for the next time a kid was sent to his office not feeling engaged. He had been particularly excited to revisit the Inheritance series and order some paperbacks for his desk library that students who just needed some quiet time could choose from when there was a *vrzroom!* and he was flying off his bike, immediately pissed.

Not scared, not upset. Pissed.

Which was the whole reason Kyle didn’t drive unless he really needed to; because he got awful road rage when other drivers were fucking stupid. So, yeah, his first reaction was to be mad upon landing in dirty snow and seeing that his bike was definitely not in good enough shape to ride home and neither was he. His second reaction was to call Stan, and then call him again when the first time went to voicemail, because Stan would always rescue him if he needed it.

Another thing that had him mad was that while only a few cars had passed during this time, someone should have stopped. It’s that whole “oh no, someone else’ll help” hive mind mentality. Kyle was that person who stopped if he saw someone in trouble. So was his boyfriend.

God, Stan had been so visibly close to a full breakdown there in the beginning. Kyle got it now.

With one more mental reminder to stay in the here and now, Kyle pulled open the door and let Stan pick him up.

“Baby, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Stan said gently. Yeah. He was safe. Stan had him.

“Mm okay.” He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring himself or Stan. Probably both. “I think I just need some water.”

“Here.” Stan set him back on the bed and grabbed the massive “Ass Pro Shops” tumbler (another Kenny custom job) from the nightstand. Ice cubes clinked inside, which made Kyle’s heart ache with fondness; Stan had refilled his water while he was sleeping.

Moose settled himself back on Kyle’s chest after Kyle set the cup down. Stan sat on the mattress, carefully pulling Kyle’s legs into his lap. He was wearing one Breaking Bad sock and the other had Godzilla on it, and Kyle felt the back of his eyes burn again, because he was just so fucking cute, with that worried expression and the stupid mismatched socks and the Fall Out Boy shirt that was tight in the shoulders but he’d been too awkward to tell the Hot Topic employee she’d grabbed the wrong size when he bought it. And Kyle actually did almost cry at his partner’s broken murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, dude, hey. No, why are you sorry?”

“I- I missed your call, you could’ve-“

“Stan, I’m okay.” He was okay. “We’re not doing this again, sweetheart, I’ll be good as new soon; yeah I’m a little beat up, but gimme a few days and I’ll be back to normal.”

Once again, he was saying that just as much for his own sake. And he definitely wouldn’t tell Stan about Cartman’s comment regarding Stan killing himself if Kyle died. Absofuckinglutely not. But really, he WAS alright. Stan took a deep breath and smiled that dimpled smile down at him. That was a ‘fake it till you make it’ smile, for sure, but they’d make it.

“I’m gonna check on this, okay?” Stan said, the worry still present behind his eyes as he slipped his finger under the tucked in edge of the bandage halfway up Kyle’s shin. “Been a couple hours. You should probably take something too.”

Kyle nodded. If the color of the bruise on his arm was any indication, his leg was definitely gonna be gross. “Just don’t get freaked out if it looks crazy, dude. You know my pale ass skin shows bruises really hardcore.”

“I know, I just wanna make sure there’s not a hematoma going on or something.”

Between Kyle’s year of premed before switching to psych and Stan’s degree in veterinary science, they had a pretty solid understanding of injuries. Yeah, both of them would deny the extent of how bad off they were, but they had enough knowledge to know when the other was hurt bad enough to get some professional help.

They weren’t going to need professional help, Kyle determined, watching his partner unwrap his leg. It hurt a little more without the compression, but the mottled bruising on the side wasn’t raised, just dark.

Still, though, Stan looked upset, gently holding the slight puffiness at Kyle’s achilles and trailing a hand up the contusions to support his calf. “Dude, your poor leg,” Stan whined, “That looks really painful, Ky.”

“Looks worse than it feels,” Kyle reminded him. “I’m just white as shit and can’t even run into the kitchen counter without getting a bruise.”

Stan cracked an actual smile again, definitely remembering the time Kyle had whacked his hip on the counter and later that night hadn’t noticed until Stan interrupted Super Best Spicy Time to go “JESUS! DID I JUST DO THAT?!”. Always worried too much, that one. Not that Kyle wasn’t the same way, but still.

Stan carefully felt around his kneecap. “Is this aggravated too? You twist it at all?”

“It’s okay.”

“Alright, baby, just tell me if you need me to find your brace.”

Kyle nearly laughed, because even if Stan had trouble keeping track of most things sometimes, he knew exactly where all the medical supplies were. He wouldn’t have to “find” anything; the first aid kit was under the sink, knee brace in the top of the closet, diabetes supplies in the third drawer in the bathroom, melatonin, vitamins, cold meds, and ibuprofen in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Speaking of, the bottle of painkillers was currently on the nightstand; one of those instances of Stan thinking ahead. Kyle reached over and shook out a few while Stan gently started wrapping his ankle, swallowing the pills dry.

Stan looked up with disgust. “Dude! Are you a fucking snake?! Your water is literally right there, don’t do that in front of us!”

“Sssssss.” Kyle laughed when Stan didn’t find him hissing funny and Moose gave him the side eye. “Why do you get so grossed out when I do that?”

“Because it’s weird!” Stan stopped his ‘medic duties’ to throw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Most people can’t swallow like that. I can’t.”

In all actuality, Kyle mostly took meds dry to get a rise out of his boyfriend, who was godawful at taking any kind of medicine and complained about the taste of any liquid cough syrup but had to literally swallow pills in food, like he was a puppy.

“So we’re talking about “swallowing” now, are we?” Kyle was definitely a fan of anything he could use to segue them into a lighter mood, even a sex joke. Kenny would be proud.

Stan shook his head, but grinned, going back to his self appointed task. “Why is it that you always get flirtier when you’re hurt?”

“Because your goddamn knight in shining armor complex is hot,” Kyle answered, wincing a little at the bruises being touched but completely endeared at Stan cradling his lower leg with careful hands and lightly kissing the top of the bandage when he was finished wrapping him up.

“Thought you hated the white knight routine,” Stan teased.

Kyle pulled him down to kiss him. “I like it when it’s warranted,” he murmured against Stan’s mouth. “You’re cute.”

“You’re still gonna complain about it.”

“Mm, you know me so well.”

Then Moose *mrowed* in protest from between them at not getting attention too, and Kyle laughed. “We’ve annoyed the creature.”

Stan picked the little brown cat up and kissed his tiny face. “What, young nastyman? You bored? Wanna watch Animal Planet?”

More like Stan wanted to watch Animal Planet. Kyle rolled his eyes and sat up, reaching for his adopted son. “Did you get fed, beasticle? Want a treat?”

“Oh he got his favorite,” Stan assured him. “And extra treats because someone’s upset that his father got banged up by a stupid driver.”

Moose let himself be cradled against Kyle’s chest, purring like a lawn mower. “Baby boy,” Kyle cooed, rocking the cat a little. They’d only gotten Moose a few months ago, when Stan was volunteering at the animal shelter before working up the courage to actually apply at the vet clinic, and their fur child had quickly become a staple in their lives. And Moose was a really chill cat, just the sweetest thing. “You and your dad don’t need to worry about me.”

“We’re gonna,” Stan pointed out. “So, the critter’s been fed, but we haven’t. Whatcha feeling?”

Ugh. Yeah. Food was a thing. Kyle tended to get nauseous when he was stressed, but he knew damn well the nausea also came from not eating. Still, though, nothing sounded particularly appealing. “Whatever you want, dude. I don’t have much of an opinion tonight.”

Stan clearly didn’t like that answer. “Baby…”

“Just make what you feel like and summon me when it’s ready.”

“You should stay lying down,” he insisted.

“You know I don’t like eating in bed.” That was part of the hang up too. Dinner involved getting up, and moving would remind him that he wasn’t at 100%, which would stress him out more, because he had work the day after tomorrow and needed to be all good for stopping hallway fights, and crumbs were gross to sleep on which would make it even harder to drift off than it usually was.

“And I don’t like you not eating.” Stan could be just as stubborn as himself sometimes. “I’m gonna doordash something that isn’t messy, and we’re eating in bed, and I’ll wash the sheets.” Standing up with a determined expression, Stan caught Kyle’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Give me a moment, melda târ, I have an idea.”

He hurried down the stairs, and Kyle felt himself scowling, definitely not wanting to acknowledge that if he was this pissy this fast, even with Stan being adorable, his sugar was dropping, and like hell was he gonna check. Which also meant his partner was right, and he did need to check. It had been a good five or so hours since lunch.

“God fucking…” in the 70s, which was far from the worst he’d seen from himself, but not great. No wonder he’d suddenly plummeted into a mood. Moose made a little squeak.

“Yeah, your dad’s right. I gotta eat.”

Stan triumphantly announced his presence back in the room with a “let’s fuckin’ gooooo”, precariously balancing a pint of ice cream, two spoons, a glass of cheap wine and a can of miller lite. “Bed picnic ice cream date while we decide!”

The enthusiasm was so sweet. Stan was trying really hard to cheer him up and make sure he didn’t let getting hurt be an eating disorder trigger. That was something Stan never stopped worrying about. For real, the calorie count on the ice cream container was crossed out, even though that whole ordeal had been like six years ago. Stan Marsh, the most adorable man on the planet, who had brought the only thing in the house that wouldn’t leave crumbs in the bed, and the only thing that sounded good. Fuck, he loved him.

Kyle managed a smile and accepted the ice cream. “Dude, yes. I didn’t even know what I needed.”

Stan sat down beside him and propped them both against the headboard, one arm around Kyle, who was starting on the ice cream (Stan had grabbed the vanilla instead of the chocolate chip, probably in case Moose started begging for some), and the other going for the remote to start finding something to watch.

“You always have an opinion, babe. If you don’t, that probably means something’s up,” Stan said simply. “Figured with that and if you haven’t eaten in a while, you were starting to drop, right? You check?”

“I’m… on the lower side,” Kyle admitted, and fuck, that ice cream tasted like a video game health potion. “Why ice cream?”

Stan selected the first episode of The Last Of Us, and sporting that dimpled grin of his, grabbed a spoonful. “You crave sweet things when you’re upset or hurt, and ice cream never fails to kickstart your appetite. I know you better than I know myself, dude.”

And that went the other way around, too. Kyle sighed and let his head drift to Stan’s shoulder, watching as his boyfriend scrolled through the list of food options.

“You feel like a sandwich?”

“I mean, I feel like a Stan, but-“ Stan cut off with a laugh when Kyle nudged him. “Yeah, yeah baby, you want grilled cheeses from that diner on the square?”

“Mhm. Just put in the order notes for them to leave the condiments out of the boxes so they don’t get covered in fry grease.”

Stan kissed him lightly on the forehead before taking a sip of his beer, grinning around the lip of the can.

“Why are you making that face, Stanathan?”

“Just… there you are.” Stan finished placing the order and wrapped both arms around him. Moose sniffed at the abandoned ice cream container while his humans held each other. “You’re here. You’re okay. And you’re feeling good enough to make requests on the packaging on a food order.”

“I mean, it’s kind of off putting when your ketchup cups are all slimy because they were in the same container with the fries that just got pulled out of the oil, plus the grease smell is gonna linger in the bedroom after anyway, so might as well minimize the stain risk, and- *mnh*!”

The kiss that Stan stopped him with tasted like vanilla, and that distinct taste that was all his own. His Stan; his hero when he needed help, the one who Kyle swore could read his mind sometimes. The man who was so gentle when he was injured but so strong if someone he cared about was threatened. Stan, who was a massive dork at the same time he was the coolest person Kyle knew. “Luck” didn’t begin to cover it.

But Stan had him covered.

[akaarouu]

HiHi!

Today I will be talking about @fuyufangurI and the weird things they’ve done.

!TRIGGER WARNING!

sadist and masochist behavior in drawings, fake blood, and a form of somnophilia

If you don’t know who they are, futufangurl is mostly a Danganronpa oc creator. Their oc is named Suyu, and I will now be referring their oc as Suyu and im gonna refer the creator as Suyuhiko to make things easier for me and you guys and I don’t know their actual name.

Suyuhiko posted her first tiktok in January of last year, being on instagram for longer. Her oc Suyu is shipped with the canon character Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu.

Now there was nothing wrong with this at all. People do oc x canon all the time. I DO OC X CANON ALL THE TIME. But her oc x canon art is the thing that lead up to her controversy.

What started raising some eyebrows is when she had posted this really weird art of Suyuhiko and Fuyu;

If you don’t really understand whats going on in this drawing, basically Fuyuhiko is choking Suyu. But Suyu is showing that she likes it. And at the end Fuyuhiko punches her. Obviously showing that he wasn’t doing this in a joking manner or anything. Just full aggression and intentions to cause harm.

And I guess some people in the comments were saying things about it. She added her own comment saying; If u guys think this is bad i'm going to advise you from staying off my instagram

I also advise you from staying off her instagram as well. I followed Suyu back in 2023 and I was highly traumatized by the art.

Heres the weird drawings;

These are drawings of disgusting sadistic behavior. And it’s absolutely ridiculous that she thought it was okay. I saw the passed out one back in 2023 and I was so uncomfortable.

It is shown in a lot of her stuff she has a big AND I MEAN HUGE obsession with Fuyuhiko;

one of her instagram captions: Fuyuhiko, I cannot believe I get to spend anther birthday with you! You've helped me so much, and I couldn't be more grateful for you. You've taught me so many things but most importantly you have taught me how to love, even if it is a bit sick and twisted. You've been there besides me through thick and thin. Protecting me, keeping me in line, loving me. I am not sure of a lot of things, but I'm more than sure I love you. More than anything, truly. Happy birthday Mister.. Please stay with me forever. I love you.

( and i think theres even more than what i provided )

Even though we don’t exactly know, but this can easily bleed into her artwork; turning into an obsession and drawing out the things she wants him to do to her. But that is a big assumption but I wanted to make sure to include because it is a huge possibility. Suyuhiko hasn’t talked about nor taken any form of accountability. To all of her fans, maybe put some consideration on thinking about her behavior. And to Suyuhiko, do better. Because this is absolutely disgusting.

In conclusion, Suyuhiko has made disgusting art of her oc and a canon character and she doesn’t care nor has she addressed it. And she probably needs some form of help.

If you are reading this I just wanted to say thank you for reading the whole things I was very motivated to do this because Suyuhiko has been getting hate and I see a lot of “They can never make me hate you” comments under her post and on her insta post from fans. So I hope this educates the unknown about her wrong doings.

If you finished reading this put 🍡 emojis :33

[senorincognito69]

Heritage disputes (Man into horse TF caption)

One gets the cash, the other gets the saddle.

---Text:

Pete MacDougall died last night, his corpse was still warm, yet his two children didn’t wait for the mourning to finish before escalating the conflict. Philip, the oldest of the two, made the first move, certain that he would win. Against his wife’s wishes he invited Grace to their ancestral house with the intention of putting her half-sister in her place. The two siblings met in the gardens, under the voyeuristic view of several servants. Philip didn’t even try and pretend to show a facade of courtesy, instead going directly to the point.

“I am my father's only true son,” he said as a greeting when Grace arrived. “You are his worst mistake, the offspring of a farmhand whore who should have known her place and stayed in the stables. I’m the one that will take the reins of the company and all the wealth. Tone down your bitchery and I will allow you to live comfortably, try to oppose me and your life will turn to misery, understood?”

Grace wasn’t intimidated by the verbal assault, the woman, who was wearing her riding boots, calmly crossed her arms.

“I don’t think so,” she answered. “It will be me holding the reins of control from now on and you’re gonna leave and if you want to continue to live as a man you’d better make sure I never see or hear from you again or you’re gonna end up working in dad’s stables, just like your mother.”

“What are you talking about?” Philip chuckled, shaking his head. “Nonsense… Do you have a block of salt for brains? You think you can make me work as a stableman?”

“Not as a stableman, but as a breeding beast. That’s why your mother went missing, mine turned her into a horse. Remember Gold? Your favorite mare? It was your mom, she lived, fucked and died as a horse and if you don’t leave now you will inherit her legacy.”

That bizarre revelation shifted the vibe, Philip felt an odd jerking oppression in his balls.

“That’s nonsense…” he repeated, slightly losing his footing. “Nonsense.”

“Father is no longer here to protect you, daddy’s boy. This is your last warning: Go live with your kids, your wife and that secretary you have sex with… or live on all fours.”

A brief silence followed, Philip put his hands in his pockets.

“You are a crazy whore.

Then Grace uttered a single word.

…

“Stallion.”

“Mmphhhh!”

There was a brief fluctuation in the air, Philip turned red like a tomato before his cock and balls burst out of his pants, obliterating them. His sex morphed, the phallus growing inhumanly long, round and pink, leaving his foreskin behind, his balls hanging down and swelling, his sack leathery and black.

He looked down at his equine dick with his mouth half-open.

“Wha-ha… What did you du to…” he babbled.

“Stallion.”

“Iiiiiiiiiiii!”

The whinny came out as his face and neck stretched, his ears too. He dropped forward onto all fours as the surge of musculature tore apart more of his expensive clothes. Ripping sounds, black fur coating his tense skin, a tail swings over an exposed anus, middle toes and middle fingers merging into deformed proto-hooves, a mane slides down his neck. Grace claps a couple of times and if it was all according to a plan a few servants entered the scene.

“Get him ready,” she orders.

The servants surrounded Philip and began to strip him of all the rags.

“Dun touch meeeeeeeeigh you filthhhhhhg!” he grunted feebly as, once naked, the servants easily strap reins and a saddle around his head and on top of his widening back.

Grace walks behind the growing horse-man and lifts the tail of his fully equine arse.

“We are just setting the record straight: I’m the daughter of a witch, you are the son of a broodmare.”

The horse attempted to protest, her hand grabs one of his throbbing balls, he snorts, she squeezes.

“NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIGH!”

Philip's eyes grew blank, he rears up on his massive body on his back legs as he swings the front ones in the air, his cock unloads a blast of sperm onto the earth in the garden before the servants pull the reins, forcing him back down onto all fours.

The servants finished tying the riding gear to the beast, they nodded to Grace and left. When Philip’s eyes come back from the darkness they are completely equine as he’s been completely reduced to a horse. Grace grabs the reins.

“Move, Dark, I have to break you down so you know your place and stay in the stables.”

The shocked and exhausted stallion tried to resist, but Grace only has to pull on the reins once for him to submissively follow along towards the stables, meanwhile the servants diligently cleaned up ever hint of the spot where Philip MacDougall met his heritage, because he might as well have never existed as a man.

This caption was part of a batch of captions from the Shoebox tier of subscribers. I do not own the rights to the original images, if the owners requests their removal I will remove them. If you would like to help Senor Kinky Studio produce more TFerotica consider supporting us in one of these webpages: subscribestar.adult/SenorIncog… senorincognito69.fanbox.cc/ senorincognito69.gumroad.com/ And don’t forget to fave, watch and comment! 8D

[daveinediting]

The year so far has been about up-scaling and posting YouTube videos with custom thumbnails. Hundreds of clips with a lot more to go plus managing a database of the work done so far including the data attached to each clip, resolution, captioning, playlists, series, show of origin, geographic location, and so on.

This year so far has also been about projects carrying a lot of question marks. A lot of elements we need... but the client isn't making those elements available yet for whatever reason. A lot of questions about intent... but those questions are going unanswered so far for whatever reason.

In both circumstances, wrangling YouTube videos and dealing in question marks, prioritizing thinking is key. It's giving myself time to think through both processes because they're tricky. Because they’re complicated.

In the case of the YouTube videos, there are adjustments and improvements I’m making along the way because I gave myself time. Because I allowed myself to occasionally come up for air instead of relentlessly cranking out videos.

Don't get me wrong, cranking out videos is the point. But feedback's built into my process. My own feedback. As in Am I doing something wrong here? Is there another way I to do this this? Is there a better to do this? What have I done so far? What's still in front of me? And so on.

Here's a little story that captures the reason for these questions:

A long time ago I was creating a stop motion video using my DSLR with a shutter cable. At the beginning, I framed up the scene and then started moving figures around, snapping a picture with the shutter cable each time I advanced the scene, working this way as fast as I could. It still took a lot of time... and I was totally jazzed to see the finished work. Which turned out exactly as planned....

...until about halfway through when all my figures move quite intentionally out of frame. Just BAM. Out of frame.

I wasn't double-checking my work, you see. So I wasted about half my effort by plowing relentlessly ahead.

Actually no. I had to start over. From scratch. However, in setting everything up again, I hit on a better idea of what to do this next time around. And that lesson was not lost on me. My process is one of iteration and course correction even when it's on the fly. 

Sure, if I have to do something in one go, I can do it. My work kicks ass, though, when I take the opportunity to put more thought into what I'm doing before I do it, while I'm doing it, and afterward.

So.

If there's the time, I take it.

If there isn't the time, I put as much thought as possible into what I'm going to do. The 48 Hour Horror Film Project was like that. I had from early afternoon Saturday 'til around three or four the next afternoon to do the edit, sound design, music integration, color correction, and coordinating with the composer and then the writer and director.

The amount of time I had was never gonna change. 

But.

I did spend the entire week before that edit getting ready for it. 

The Real Road Adventures series was a bit the same way. We were using all new production and post production tech for these shows and spent weeks figuring out the details and setting up a process so editing would just flow once we were into the schedule.

Even my composing efforts were front loaded. The time I had to actually composed, record, arrange, and mix all the music for the series was also never gonna change... so I spent weeks beforehand logging all the virtual instruments, sounds, and sound effects I had at my disposal. I marked which were my favorites. I tagged each one according to what I imagined its use to be in the kind of series I was cutting.

That effort paid off, by the way. Whenever my brain started reaching for a different idea, those ideas were easy to manifest with sounds I already identified (ish) for such purpose.

Anyway.

At this point, I’ve got the YouTube process pretty well in hand (but for the ever expanding database that requires constant tending to). As for the question mark projects, well, there are clients and there are clients. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, even if they haven’t sent you the elements you need, you can conjure them. In my case, the missing elements in the script are things I can make a pretty decent educated guess at. Which is what I did. Based on my own research, I created animations that illustrate the sections of script in question.

So...

Am I good to go?

Of course not. I’m fishing for feedback from the client. A bit of direction.

I’m also strategizing a little with other undefined parts of the script that I’ll have a go at for similar reasons. To give the client something to see. Because that’s how it is with some clients. They have to have something they can see before they can start guiding you in the right direction.

Yeah.

The year’s starting with brain-teaser projects.

Not impossible. Not chaos. Not frustrating.

I’ve just...

Gotta think my way through.

[sw2-serials]

The Day My Father Called Me a Girl

(this pic is begging for a rude caption, but bear with me)

Another about-me post with absolutely no spanking but if anyone is interested…

My father is no genius, but he knows a lot.  And he’s not a big athlete himself, but he could have been a really good coach if he’d ever had a boy.  He coached our pee-wee soccer teams and it was fun, even though I wasn’t all that good.  My sister Sarah, two years older, was better, but she had no interest in it.  That was pretty much it for sports.  I learned to ride, though only on family vacations, and tried tennis and cross-country without a lot of success.

It wasn’t too long before my father stopped asking my sister to help him do things around the house and let me do it.  I loved this arrangement and she did, too.  One thing my he is smart about is levers and mechanical advantage and he was always trying to teach me not just how to use tools but how they worked.

Along with using the tools properly, he drilled me on body positioning.  “Get your feet set,” he’d say, over and over (oops, I guess some of that was my fault!).  Nowadays when I hear about a football player (American football) needing to improve his footwork - especially the offensive linemen getting ready to block - I always smile and think, “He needs my dad’s help.”  Basically you want your feet in a line at right angles to what you’re trying to work on, to ‘square up’ to it.  (For stability, you want your feet in line with the direction you’re moving.)

My dad never called me a ‘tomboy’.  I didn’t play with boys any more than girls, I didn’t ‘wrassle’ - though I did run around (slowly, I guess) a lot and get pretty dirty, collecting rocks and twigs and stuff.  Sarah was more interested in the ‘pretty’ than the ‘dirty’.  Dad never said something was ‘unladylike’ or ‘girls don’t do that’ (my mom didn’t, either).  Maybe I’d get grossed out by something a boy would have just laughed at but that was about the extent of it.

Sarah got interested in make up pretty early while I didn’t.  I have dark lashes and brows so I didn’t really need it like she did, and I wasn’t as pretty in any case.  I’m sure if I’d asked my mom she would have said something reassuring, like she would in any case, so I didn’t ask.

So this one time when I was twelve K was visiting, a boy cousin my age.  We were helping my dad and I heard him say, ‘Get your feet set’ and I smiled, having been told so many times.  (I also checked my feet).  Dad took a minute to show what he meant, getting K positioned properly to saw through a thick branch in front of him.  Not a whole lot later he was showing him again.  It made me proud to have known this for years.

A few more minutes passed and K started on another branch.  My father was a little out of reach and called out to him ‘Get your ass behind you.’  I heard, but was around the corner and I don’t think he knew I was there - but this was the perfect, succinct, and memorable description of what he wanted.  In all the years he’d told me to ‘Get my feet set’ - probably for the past six at that point and plenty more after - he never said this to me.

Upon careful consideration, my dad had never treated me like a boy when I ‘had to tinkle’ - not even on camping trips - but this was probably because my mom had no intention of even using a Port-A-Potty, let alone peeing in the woods, and my sister fully supported this.  Also, one time, he said ‘You might not be interested in boys, but I can tell you, they’re interested in you,’ (which I found doubtful), which I guess was also a recognition of my gender.

But when I think back, what I remember is that time he said ‘Get your ass behind you’ to my cousin that he would never say to me ‘because you’re a girl’.

[aquaheartgirl]

I can’t really sincerely answer this based on the options provided. For the purposes of what you probably mean and how most people will interpret this, I’m definitely anti-AI. But that’s purely because of all the horrible and unethical consequences of THE WAY IT’S BEING HANDLED. Not the AI itself. But that doesn’t mean it “depends on the situation” because there is currently no situation in existence (that I’m aware of) where it’s being handled properly.

I think we all know the gist by now, but here’s what I’m specifically against:

• Training it on art/writing/etc without consent of the original creators. I can’t believe there wasn’t already some law that would have prevented that from happening.

• The widespread myth that it’s even “intelligent” in any way. It’s pattern recognition. That’s all. It frequently gets basic facts wrong because it’s not programmed to understand what it’s spitting out. It’s going to cause all kinds of problems for people who don’t understand the way it actually works and assume it always knows what it’s talking about.

• The prevalence of AI use among companies that are trying to replace workers to save a few dollars without caring about the consequences, both in quality of product and in jobs destroyed. If you want a concrete example of how this affects product quality, well, there are thousands, but look no further than auto-generated captions. I’m sure we’ve all seen that atrocity.

(If it was actually the case that AI could do things better/faster/cheaper than a human, I’d argue that we should consider doing it and then providing support for the people who lose their jobs to it so they can transition to different jobs, the same way that we should be retraining coal workers to build windmills and solar panels. But that’s not the case at all. AI output has limited usefulness, but for the most part it is vastly inferior to the exact same task done by a human with a brain.)

I don’t want books or movies written by a pattern-recognition algorithm with zero regard for the meaning in what it’s creating. Even if the results were really good (and we are definitely NOT there) I’d argue that it still doesn’t hit the same if it’s not written by a person. Entertainment is not defined by consumption. That’s incidental. It’s defined by intent (and not the intent of someone giving an AI a prompt - although I’d say there is SOME intent there, it’s not the same thing).

What I DO support is the concept of using AI as a tool. As in, using it to do very tedious tasks like reformatting text in ways that might be hard to accomplish with find-and-replace, or integrating it into illustration or animation software and giving it prompts like, idk, “change this person’s smile to a frown,” thereby saving hours of noncreative work on the part of the artist.

Like, as someone who does video edits for fun, I would LOVE to be able to feed an AI an animated video clip and tell it to, say, change the way a character’s lips move so they’re saying different words. The ideas about exactly what to do to the image/video would be mine as the artist, but if I could easily have the longest and most tedious tasks done for me and then move on to my next creative choice? That would be so liberating!

Unfortunately I have yet to find a way to replace anything in my typical creative process with AI in its current capability, but even more unfortunately, I could not in good conscience use it even if it progressed that far. Because the way the whole system is set up is unethical, exploitative, and backward.

To me it’s an enormous missed opportunity. I wish we were all more informed about what it is and what it ISN’T and how it should actually be used, and I wish we had the power to regulate it toward that end, instead of it being poised as a threat to authors and artists and actors and actually probably everyone in the world for the sake of keeping a few more dollars in the hands of the people who need those dollars the least.

[azaleavi]

“All of the songs are about you”

Requested by anon: Hi, first of all I want to thank you for all your amazing work that you share with us, I absolutely adore everything that you write!!! Secondly, I was wondering if I could request something with Sebastian, where reader is a famous singer and younger than him, and when they reveal their relationship, people start saying that he is only using her and he gets worried that she will leave him for someone her age. Once again, thank you! 😚

Word count: 2k

Author's note: Thank you for your kind words dear nonnie! I hope you like it.

Warning(s): language

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

Both of you being famous wasn't easy with you being a singer and Sebastian being an actor. Especially when you wanted to keep your relationship a secret and you were quite younger than him. You have been dating for a while now and you couldn't be more in love with him. He was your muse for many of your songs, but the fans didn't know that. They did notice though that you started writing more love songs than before. You got questions about it almost every day, but you never answered them. They had their speculations, but you never confirmed any of it. It might be selfish, but you wanted to keep him all to yourself and both of you agreed to wait a little more before going public. He was promoting his new movie and you didn't want people to think that you announced your relationship only to give more publicity to it. But sometimes the universe doesn't care what you want.

It was a normal day, like any other, when you were at Sebastian's house and you started craving some McDonald's. The weather was nice for the time being past 10 pm so you decided to go out to buy it instead of ordering. It was dark already so you weren't afraid that anybody would see or recognize you. It was a five minute walk from his house and you thought it would be nice have a short walk. You waited for Sebastian to lock the front door then started walking down the street hand in hand. It probably wasn't the best idea, but you really didn't think that any paparazzi would be near you. You went into the fast food place to buy what you needed, then started walking back to his place, laughing at a story he was telling you. You loved these late night walks, the dark giving you a sense of comfort.

"Baby" he stopped walking as still giggled, making you stop as well. You turned to him, eyebrows raised in question, a smile still on your face. "I love you" he blurted out, intently looking at you, waiting for your reaction. He never said it before, despite dating for almost 6 months now. You didn't say it either yet, not wanting to make him uncomfortable or rush him. After his last relationship he wanted to be extra sure when saying the three words and you understood him. Your heart skipped a few beats at his confession, the smile widening on your lips.

"I love you too, Seb." you beamed, stepping closer to him and pulling him into a hug.

"Thank god." he mumbled into your hair, making you pull away.

"What do you mean 'thank god'? How could I not feel the same way about you? Haven't you heard the songs I wrote lately?" you asked jokingly in disbelief, but knowing he didn't mean it like that.

"You know what I mean" he blushed under the light of the streetlamp.

"I do" your arms going around his neck you pulled him down into a deep kiss. When you broke apart you walked back to his house to finally eat.

What you didn't realize was that there was a paparazzi following you, getting the perfect angle of your kiss, taking a series of photos.

The next morning you were woken up by your phone essentially exploding with calls and messages. You groaned as you reached for it, barely being able to touch it as Sebastian refused to let go of your waist.

"Why is your phone waking us up at the ass crack of dawn?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"I don't know" you unlocked it to see at least 25 calls from your manager and another few from friends and family. Around the same amount of texts were sent as well, making you sit up in bed, confused. "Something is wrong." he sat up at your tone to look at your phone. You dialed your manager, putting it on speaker. She picked up right away.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she almost screamed into the device, making Sebastian look at you.

"I was sleeping. It's 7 am." you explained.

"Care to tell me why is you and Sebastian kissing plastered on every news site on the internet right now?" your whole world stopped at her words.

"What did you say?" Sebastian spoke up as you were still frozen in your spot.

"Oh your partner in crime is there too? Great. I don't have to say this twice." she was being sarcastic, but you didn't care. You just wanted an explanation.

"Tell us what is happening, please" you pleaded.

"There are multiple pictures of you going around. They are claiming that they took them last night." she explained, but that wasn't enough.

"What pictures?" you asked.

"Pictures of you holding hands and kissing." you ran your hand through your hair.

"Fuck" Sebastian sighed.

"That's an understatement." you heard shuffling on the other side. "So I recommend you guys figure out what you are going to do and do it real fast because it is getting out of hand."

"Yeah, sure we will do that." he took the phone from you. "Thanks."

"Just doing my work." she ended the call with a sigh. Sebastian looked at you as you stared at your legs, deep in thought.

"Hey" he brushed his hand up your back, shaking you out of your mind.

"Yeah?" you looked at him, startled.

"We need to do something." he explained.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. What should we do? Go public? I mean we don't really have any other choice." you furrowed your brows.

"Do you want that?" he wanted you to be hundred percent okay with whatever you were going to do.

"Yes, I just hoped it wouldn't happen like this." you sighed. "Do you want that?" you asked back.

"Yes. We already talked about going public so I guess we will have to do it now." he shrugged.

"How are we doing this then?" you stood up to get dressed, getting ready for the day.

"Posting a video on TikTok?" he grinned.

"Absolutely not. We are not posting on Tiktok." you shook your head, laughing.

"So where do you want it? Facebook?" he raised his eyebrows, joking.

"No." you laughed. "I was thinking about posting a pic on Instagram." you threw out the idea. Both of you used the app a lot so it would be the best choice.

"Okay, let's find a picture." he also stood up.

"Ah-ah" you held out your hand to stop him. "You talk to your manager while I pick out a picture to post on my account and you can post one on yours if you want to. Mine is going to be a surprise." you grinned, already having one in mind. It was your favorite picture of you, taken by a friend without your knowledge. You were in a parking lot at the beach, you sitting on the hood of his car while he was standing between your legs, kissing you. There was a second picture, where you were leaning your forehead against his, both of you laughing at your friends shouting at you to get a room. Both of your faces were clearly seen on them so you decided to post both of them.

'All of the songs are about you' the caption read. In seconds your notifications were blowing up with comments from fans. You didn't want to read them, because you knew how people on the internet could get and you knew that you being younger than him would bother some of them. Sebastian came out of the bedroom to sit next to you.

"You posted it?" he asked, taking out his phone.

"Yep" you smiled. You leaned your head against his shoulder as he opened the app, waiting for his reaction. He immediately searched up your name and tapped on the photo. His thumb froze on the little heart as he read the caption. He put the phone down and grabbed your chin to pull you to his soft lips in a kiss.

"I love you." he mumbled into your lips.

"I love you too." you giggled. He pulled away to pick up the phone to leave a comment. 'If I wrote songs mine would be about you too' you snorted at it. "You are cute"

-

A few days later you had enough courage to check the comments people were leaving online. Maybe it wasn't the best idea.

'Jesus. Isn't he like 12 years older than her?? Gross'

'He is definitely using her lmao but I can't blame him, get that coin king'

'Y'all think she calls him daddy in the bedroom kjsdnhs'

'She is just using him to write songs'

There were nice comments as well, calling you cute together and wishing you well. The mean comments always stuck with you more though and you didn't want Sebastian to read them. It was enough that you went through them. Both of you were a little insecure about your age gap, but you loved each other so you helped the other through the harder times.

You got to his house and walked in as he asked you to not to knock anymore. You found him sitting on his couch, phone in hand. Hoping that he wasn't doing what you thought he was doing you sat down next to him. He had instagram open.

"Seb" you sighed, taking the phone out of his hands.

"What? I just wanted to see what they were saying." he tried to defend himself.

"You shouldn't read these." you shook your head. "So you wanna watch a movie?" you changed the subject. He agreed with your suggestion.

The movie had been playing for a half an hour when he pulled away from your cuddling.

"What if they are right?" his voice was so quiet so almost didn't hear him. You paused the movie to look at him.

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused by his sudden outburst.

"The comments saying that you could do so much better than me" he kept looking at his feet. You sat up and grabbed his chin to turn his head towards you, your heart breaking at his words. This was exactly why you didn't want him to read them.

"Baby" you sighed. "They are not right. Not even by far. I could not find anyone better than you even if I tried. But I'm not trying because I have you with me and you are the best thing that happened to me in a long time. So get that thought out of your head." you stared into his eyes to get your point across.

"But don't you want someone your age?"

"No I don't." you shook your head. "I am perfectly happy with you and I don't need anyone else." you held his cheeks between your palms. "Plus I like it that you are older." you smirked making him chuckle lightly. Climbing onto his lap you pulled him closer. "I love it that you are more experienced." you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I love it that you are taller." a kiss under his ear. "I love it that you are always so so sweet to everyone you meet." a kiss on his nose. Your right hand went into his hair as your lips kissed down to his neck. "And I love the way you make me feel when it's just the two of us." you whispered into his ear, your breath hitting his skin, making him let out a moan. He grabbed your waist in a strong grip. "I love how big your hands are." you nipped at his skin on his neck earning another noise of pleasure and his fingers digging into your skin. "But most importantly" you pulled away so you could look into his eyes to show your sincerity. "I love you. All of you. With everything I have." his eyes softened as he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

"I love you too."

Permanent taglist: @byatomoe

Sebastian Stan taglist: @wobblymug @sleutherclaw @toms-spiders @sarcastically-defensive17 @allforkook @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @mrsbarnesinmyimagination @bbl32 @wakandabiitch2

get added to my taglist

[soyl4ndo]

Intentions | Lando Norris

Part of the Sweet Dreams series

previous chapter: Premiere Night (II) word count: 1.3k words warnings: slow burn, angst english is not my first language

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS - FEBRUARY 6TH 2020  You and Sophia had met up in the city, although it wasn’t even 24 hours since you last saw her. You went shopping and decide to go for lunch. While waiting for your lunch you decided to comment on some posts and make your own post. You were scrolling through your camera roll, when you found a picture. You show it to Sophia and she tells you it is worth posting. You create the post where Max, Sophia and you are pictured just inside of the theatre. You decide to caption it with “Crazy night that was! Thanks @/maxverstappen1 for dragging us along ❤️Drive To Survive Season 2, February 28th 👀” In no time the likes flow in and so do the comments. You get quite a lot of compliments. You scroll a bit down and find Carlos’ comment.

carlossainz55 “What is my driver’s number again? 😂” ↳ yourname “Driver’s number? I thought you went with chili. 😂”

Daniel had also commented

danielricciardo “Who was the professional photographer? I need to hire him!”

You start laughing, knowing he was the one who took the picture. Max being himself commented

maxverstappen1 “Next time don’t actually bring yourself ❤️”.

Even George has made a comment

georgerussell63 “Influencer” ↳ yourname “Driver”

Referring to the little argument you two had during the party. When you see the next comment a smile appears on your face.

landonorris “Definitely an influencer! Even promoting for Netflix…” ↳ yourname “My bad, didn’t mean to steal your fame. Lando is also in this series guys!”

The last comment you read is from Sophia

itssophia “Can we agree Y/N looks the best here”

and that specific comment got a like from Lando.

While you were responding to some of the comments Sophia had also found her picture to post. It’s a simple mirror selfie of herself and you with the caption “Outfits on point. That means a premiere night! 🍿🎥” Max got offended and commented

maxverstappen1 “At least Y/N thanked me…”  ↳ itssophia “Love you 🥺”  ↳ yourname “Reason why I’m the better friend”

Carlos also took his chance and commented

carlossainz55 “Not that you were completely sober”  ↳ landonorris “🔥” ↳ yourname “🔥”

Lando had also commented, but instead of talking about the party, he took the chance to make fun of the mess in the background.

landonorris “Look at that mess in the background.” ↳ itssophia “That is Y/N all by herself”  ↳ yourname “Don’t expose me like that!”

George could not miss out on the commenting chain and kept it simple by saying

georgerussell63 “such a lovely night”

When you read the comment you look and see Sophia blushing. You smile and nod your head, typing your comment

yourname “Can I date the right one?”

In the picture Sophia posted, she was standing on the right. So George saw the opportunity and liked the comment. While you were having fun commenting on each other’s posts, you hadn’t realized that quite some fans had caught up and shared your replies. Some were starting unnecessary rumors while others were saying nice things about how you got along so well with Max his friends.

Once you put your phone down you notice the beaming smile on Sophia her face. “Wat are you smiling about?” Sophia lets out a sigh, as she knows she wasn’t going to be able to keep this from you. “George asked me out on a date.” Your eyes widen, you saw how those two were hitting it off, but you weren’t expecting George to be so straightforward. “What? Really? That is so sweet, when are you going?” Sophia shrugs her shoulders, both of you knew that the upcoming weeks were going to be busy, not only for the two of you but also for the world of Formula 1.

When you told your parents you wanted to take social media a lot more serious, they gave you a whole lecture about all the bad things that could happen to you. You knew they wanted to protect you, but what did they know about social media. Once you told Max he kept it short and simple and told you to not read too much into the hate. It took your parents some convincing, even from Max, but in the end they were supportive and wanted the best for you. Which was funny to you as at first they didn’t support your friendship with Max as much as they do now. Initially you made things worse when you explained how shortly after you had met Max, he was willing to fly you and Sophia out to Monaco for his birthday. Soon after your parents recognized how genuine the friendship was and they saw how Max cared for you and always looked out for you.

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS - FEBRUARY 19TH 2020  It wasn’t your greatest idea to go to school this morning as you felt sick, but you had an important exam and couldn’t miss that. When you got back home, you changed into a sweater and some joggers and wrapped yourself into a blanket onto your bed. You had trouble sleeping last night so decided to take a nap. Because of that you had to miss the first day of pre-season testing, but luckily Sophia had a summary ready for you and was coming over to tell you all about it. Once she noticed you were sick she took care of you, making you tea and some food as you had barely eaten anything yet, but all that didn’t go without some teasing. “What did you do that got you so sick?” “I’m sensitive to cold weather, you know that.” “Sure you didn’t kiss anyone? Especially someone who also has the flu?” Although you were sick, your snap backs where just as strong. “I meet someone during a night out once and all of a sudden that is the only thing I hear for the past few day.”

It truly felt like a day to tease you all about Lando when you got a text from Max. “You still talking to Lando?” “Is there a problem if I do?” Sophia was reading over your shoulder, both of you were surprised by the tone of Max’s next text, which was shortly followed by a phone call as you kept disregarding his question. “Goddamn, answer my question.” Max almost screamed over the phone. You were confused, but apparently something was going on and Max was taking it out on you, whether it had something to do with Lando or not. “If you’re mad because testing didn’t go as planned, then don’t text or call me.” You could deal with a lot of Max’s bull shit, but not now. All three of you always tried to be as honest as possible with each other, if something was going on you would be straightforward and tell the truth. So for Max to be mysterious and all, didn’t feel right. Not much later Max came to his senses and apologized, after he explained he was just warning you in advantage. In the end you can smile about this as it has happened before. Some times one of you wouldn’t be in the greatest of moods and then would tell something mysterious like this, which came with a guarantee of miscommunication and frustration. Max didn’t only take his rage out on you, he also made a victim out of Lando. What you didn’t know was that Max had told Lando not to mess around with you. It was never and it never would be Lando’s intentions, but Max his words made Lando quite aware of the things he said to you.

Next Chapter

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Heyheyhey!! Can i request manager birthday and the team forget about it for seijoh, inarizaki, and shiratorizawa bcs tomorrow ma birthday hahah. Thank youuu and i love you

Anon-chan!! This is SUCH an important birthday request and I am beyond honoured to write it for you :D 💖💖💖💖✨

Our birthdays are so close too👉👈 mine's next week. (Exactly ten days apart from yours!!)

Anyways, happy birthday Anon-chan!!I hope you have a beautiful day, filled with lots of happy things, and a wonderful year ahead. you're wonderful, and I hope you always remember that !! 💖💖💖✨ I love you so very much <3

The teams forgetting their manager's birthday

Characters: Seijoh, Shiratorizawa, and Inarizaki

Warnings: none

Oh btw!! since the type of manager is not specified, I'll go with my default fem manager :D she's cute and sweet (like you, Anon-chan 😺😆💖) and the boys adore her a ton. She's also very capable, smart, and confident, and she loves being physical with the boys, which constantly flusters them!

Seijoh

The Seijoh boys would be so busy practicing for an upcoming match, they kinda forget everything that's happening around them.

Lots of focus. You smile fondly, because that's what makes them such a good team. Their ability to focus on their goals and eliminate all distractions.

Until one day, Yahaba is just scrolling through his phone's calendar when he sees “Manager Chan's birthday, 19th November.”

And he's just so shocked and guilty. He immediately calls the rest of the team and tells them what he just realized.

The team feels so guilty and disappointed in themselves. They're a day late to wish you, and they desperately want to make it up to you.

You're their precious manager after all, the one who bandages their injuries with a smile and who always gives them the motivation to do better.

How could they possibly forget such a precious human being's birthday?

That same day, they create a group chat excluding you, and begin to plan something special for you.

They break themselves up into teams with specific tasks of getting things ready for an impromptu birthday party for you.

Iwa-chan is in charge of ensuring everything runs smoothly, and he makes sure to do it with zeal, hoping to make it the best birthday ever for you, eventhough it's a bit late.

The next day, you walk into the gym, and it's absolutely quiet and dark. The boys aren't there yet, which is pretty odd, considering practice should've started a few minutes ago.

You stand in front of the gym and dial Oikawa's number, because he's always quick to respond to your calls, but the number goes straight to voicemail. You're confused, and a little curious as to where they are.

Suddenly, you feel someone's hands covering your eyes, and Oikawa's voice saying “y/n-chan, don't be scared. We have a surprise for you.”

You laugh, realisation washing over you that the boys probably planned something because they forgot it was your birthday yesterday, and follow Oikawa as he guides you inside.

When he finally uncovers your eyes, you see the boys holding a huge, slightly odd looking cake, lit with candles.

Oikawa hugs you from behind and you pull him closer to you, snuggling in his embrace.

You then blow out your candles and make a silent wish. I wish to always be by their side

Iwa-chan is already hitting Oikawa for hugging you before the rest, so you hug Iwa too, then Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Yahaba, Kunimi, and even Kyotani, albeit him being slightly rigid.

“thanks guys, this is an amazing surprise!” you say softly, as your eyes tear up. It's obvious that they made the cake themselves, and eventhough it wasn't perfect, your boys, made it for you.

Your heart squeezed as you cut slices for everyone, and handed it to them, as they sat on the bleachers to enjoy it.

You sit next to Yahaba and leaned on his shoulder. “Thanks for remembering” you said softly.

He blushed. “how did you know?” you explained that Kunimi told you, and he smiled at you and ruffled your hair.

“We're sorry for not remembering sooner, Y/n-san. Thanks for being the best manager ever” said Iwaizumi. He seemed to be nonchalant about it, but his eyes and smile betrayed him. He was fond of you, and genuinely glad that you enjoyed the small celebration they had prepared.

You smiled and kissed his cheek as acknowledgement, which caused him to blush and Oikawa to throw a small tantrum.

You laughed as you looked at them bantering with each other, Hanamaki and Matsukawa teasing Kyotani, and Yahaba and Kunimi next to you. You really did love these boys.

Shiratorizawa

So I'm pretty sure it's exam week, and these boys are just so studious and hardworking, they're totally immersing themselves in their studies and books.

Until it's their calculus exam and Tendou just suddenly remembers “Oh my God, it was Y/N's birthday two days ago!!” as his pencil flies across the room, much to the sensei's disapproval (haha, miracle boy is so cute)

He pulls the other third years aside after the exam, like Ushijima, and Semi, and tells them what he just remembers.

Ushijima is just stoic, but internally he's like "how could I forget? I never forget important dates like these? Is something wrong with me?" And Semi's just so sad he wants to scoop you in his arms right away.

Tendou then proposes the idea of taking you somewhere after school to surprise you, and they agree, and run off to tell the rest of the team.

Goshiki is just close to tears he hates that he forgot his favourite senpai's birthday, especially when you remembered his (and the entire team's) and never failed to make it a special day for them.

So after school ends, you're getting ready to go back home, when Semi just scoops you into his arms and carries you to the rest of the team.

You're not all that shocked, since Semi does this pretty often, and so you let him. “where are we going?” you ask, and he just casually answers “to celebrate the end of exams”

You laugh silently. They're definitely planning more than that, but you decide to humour them, and smile at the team when Semi lets you down gently.

“let's go have udon” says Shirabu with a too-big smile. You and the team walk to an udon shop near the school, and enter quietly.

Goshiki sits next you, and he looks like he wants to say something, but can't, as he bites his lip. Ushijima sits in front of you, and rest of the team take their places and begin ordering.

You notice Tendou talking to the shop owner intently, with Shirabu next to him. Ushijima knows that you might suspect something, so he tries getting your attention by asking you about your exams.

Suddenly, Tendou brings a cake to the table and team begins singing happy birthday for you. You smile happily and wait for them to finish before making a wish and blowing off the candles.

You smile happily at the team and their hearts grow warm, seeing you so happy like that.

“We're sorry for not remembering sooner, y/n-senpai” says Goshiki in a sad voice. Your heart tugs at seeing him so sad, so you ruffle his hair and assure him that exams are tough on everyone, and that it was better to celebrate it after they ended anyways.

You and the team eat the cake after having udon, and talk about the week together. They start reminiscing about memories with you, as they talk about their first impressions, and cute memories with a soft smile on their faces.

Tendou retells the story of how you first came to the team and how much you've grown ever since then.

At some point, Semi sits in your place whilst you've gone to the ladies room, and pulls you to his lap when you come back.

The team laughs when they see you desperately refusing, worried that you'll be too heavy, whilst Semi reassures you that you won't.

Goshiki adoringly smiles at you, and Semi pulls you closer to him. Tendou feeds you small pieces of strawberry left from the cake, as Shirabu records everything, excitedly typing in a caption on his social media.

Meanwhile, Ushijima is just carefully adding in a small reminder in his phone calendar, so he'll never forget your birthday in the future ever again.

Inarizaki

My sweet little fox babies! I think they would be excitedly counting down for your birthday, you're their precious manager-chan after all (and I can't bring myself to say they forgot 😅😭) when Atsumu suddenly sees a friend of yours post a "happy birthday y/n!!" on their Instagram story.

Atsumu immediately jumps on his brother's bed and wakes him up, whilst texting your friend. “Isn't y/n's birthday five days from now?”

Your friend replies. “no haha, it's today!” which cause the twins to desperately call Aran, Suna, Ginjima, and of course, captain Kita!

The boys are hurriedly awoken a few minutes after midnight, and absolutely frazzled! They had all planned something special, but now they would have to change the date, and some things (like the cake and venue) weren't ready so soon.

Osamu groggily got out of bed and began taking out eggs, butter, flour, and other baking ingredients. Eventhough it was extremely late, and he had a tiring day, nothing could compare to his love for you. And so, he started mixing the ingredients at one a.m.

Kita tried to remain calm, but internally freaks out. He and Suna are trying to brainstorm ideas of places they could take you to make your day enjoyable.

Atsumu was busy wrapping the gifts they had all got. He got way too many papercuts and had a bit of trouble, but it was for you, and the thought alone of you smiling was enough to motivate him.

Aran and Ginjima made their own preparations in their own homes for the next day, and Aran even facetimed Osamu to keep him company throughout the baking process.

They were determined to make your birthday a happy one, and genuinely wanted to let you know they loved and cared for you so much.

The next day, six terribly sleep deprived boys arrived at school, with the needed arrangements set. The cake was safely secured with Osamu, and Suna took the bag of gifts from Atsumu.

Kita went to go find you, and he saw you waiting by the entrance of school. “Y/n-san, let's go.” said Kita with a mysterious smile.

You were a bit confused. School was the other way and he was dragging you away from it, but you trusted Kita and followed him.

He led you to the rest of the team, and gently places his hand on your back. “Let's go, y/n-san. We're going to the beach.”

You were super confused. “but school?”. Suna gives you a sleepy smile. “Kita and me have already handled that. We told your teachers you'd be absent today, now c'mon.”

Atsumu gently holds your small hand in his and you guys walks to the subway. As you dig for your subway card in your pocket, the boys get seated. There's one less seat, so Atsumu pulls you to his lap, much to the rest of the team's disapproval.

They're all so jealous, Atsumu laughs silently, and pulls an oblivious you closer. Osamu just rolls his eyes, but internally seethes.

Two stops later, the team motions to exit, and Aran shyly comes closer to you, taking your hand this time. You smile at him and make your way to the small beach you sometimes spend time in, with the rest of the team.

Kita finds an empty picnic table and everyone sits down, placing the items they had brought with them down, and looking at you expectantly.

“Happy Birthday, y/n-chan.” they chorused together. Suna ruffled your hair from the right side of you, and Osamu begins lighting up the candles on your left.

You gratefully thank them for going to the trouble of bringing you here, the fresh beach air and breeze immediately putting you in a cheerier mood.

They then start singing you a happy birthday as you blush silently and blow the candles out, making a wish. I wish to be able to love these boys forever.

You lean over and kiss Osamu's cheek. He blushes red immediately. “Thank you for going to the trouble of baking this, Samu'” if only you knew, he thought silently, as flashbacks of him almost falling asleep in front of the oven came to mind.

Kita cuts the cake and gives you the biggest slice, much to your happiness. The boys all eat their cake and joke around about all the memories they've made with you.

“I can remember when y/n-chan just came. She was so small and sweet, Osamu said she reminded him of a macaroon” said Aran.

Kita fondly smiles as he gives you a pack off green tea from his grandmother.

Ginjima gives you the gifts the entire team had picked and you begin tearing up, much to everyone's dismay. You're just so grateful to have them.

Suddenly Atsumu leans over and swipes frosting from the cake on your face. The mood is once again lifted, as Suna takes a ton of pictures, and contributes to the frosting on your face too.

“hey that's enough now” says Kita. He looks firm, but his eyes betray him. The slight sparkle shows that he thinks it adorably hilarious how the boys are annoying you.

The water seems to be calling you, so you pull Suna to the shore and lean down to the water.

The rest of the day is just filled with the boys and you doing random things by the beach, like eating popsicles, and finding seashells. You're unable to actually get into the water, due to your school uniforms, but seeing an excited you gush over the seashells and smile happily over ice cream is enough for the boys.

At the end of the day, you and the team watch the sunset together, and swear to work extra hard for the upcoming nationals.

As they see you looking up at the sunset adoringly, their hearts squeeze in their chest, so grateful to be a part of your life.

Taglist: @osamusriceballs @k-sakusa-old

[notsoheadless]

Remember Longcat, Jane? I remember Longcat. Fuck the picture on this page, I want to talk about Longcat. Memes were simpler back then, in 2006. They stood for something. And that something was nothing. Memes just were. “Longcat is long.” An undeniably true, self-reflexive statement. Water is wet, fire is hot, Longcat is long. Memes were floating signifiers without signifieds, meaningful in their meaninglessness. Nobody made memes, they just arose through spontaneous generation; Athena being birthed, fully formed, from her own skull.     You could talk about them around the proverbial water cooler, taking comfort in their absurdity. “Hey, Johnston, have you seen the picture of that cat? They call it Longcat because it’s long!” “Ha ha, sounds like good fun, Stevenson! That reminds me, I need to show you this webpage I found the other day; it contains numerous animated dancing hamsters. It’s called — you’ll never believe this — hamsterdance!” And then Johnston and Stevenson went on to have a wonderful friendship based on the comfortable banality of self-evident digitized animals.     But then 2007 came, and along with it came I Can Has, and everything was forever ruined. It was hubris, Jane. We did it to ourselves. The minute we added written language beyond the reflexive, it all went to shit. Suddenly memes had an excess of information to be parsed. It wasn’t just a picture of a cat, perhaps with a simple description appended to it; now the cat spoke to us via a written caption on the picture itself. It referred to an item of food that existed in our world but not in the world of the meme, rupturing the boundary between the two. The cat wanted something. Which forced us to recognize that what it wanted was us, was our attention. WE are the cheezburger, Jane, and we always were. But by the time we realized this, it was too late. We were slaves to the very memes that we had created. We toiled to earn the privilege of being distracted by them. They fiddled while Rome burned, and we threw ourselves into the fire so that we might listen to the music. The memes had us. Or, rather, they could has us.     And it just got worse from there. Soon the cats had invisible bicycles and played keyboards. They gained complex identities, and so we hollowed out our own identities to accommodate them. We prayed to return to the simple days when we would admire a cat for its exceptional length alone, the days when the cat itself was the meme and not merely a vehicle for the complex memetic text. And the fact that this text was so sparse, informal, and broken ironically made it even more demanding. The intentional grammatical and syntactical flaws drew attention to themselves, making the meme even more about the captioning words and less about the pictures. Words, words, words. Wurds werds wordz. Stumbling through a crooked, dead-end hallway of a mangled clause describing a simple feline sentiment was a torture that we inflicted on ourselves daily. Let’s not forget where the word “caption” itself comes from: capio, Latin for both “I understand” and “I capture.” We thought that by captioning the memes, we were understanding them. Instead, our captions allowed them to capture us. The memes that had once been a cure for our cultural ills were now the illness itself.     It goes right back to the Phaedrus, really. Think about it. Back in the innocent days of 2006, we naïvely thought that the grapheme had subjugated the phoneme, that the belief in the primacy of the spoken word was an ancient and backwards folly on par with burning witches or practicing phrenology or thinking that Smash Mouth was good. Fucking Smash Mouth. But we were wrong. About the phoneme, I mean. Theuth came to us again, this time in the guise of a grinning grey cat. The cat hungered, and so did Theuth. He offered us an updated choice, and we greedily took it, oblivious to the consequences. To borrow the parlance of a contemporary meme, he baked us a pharmakon, and we eated it.     Pharmakon, φάρμακον, the Greek word that means both “poison” and “cure,” but, because of the

limitations of the English language, can only be translated one way or the other depending on the context and the translator’s whims. No possible translation can capture the full implications of a Greek text including this word. In the Phaedrus, writing is the pharmakon that the trickster god Theuth offers, the toxin and remedy in one. With writing, man will no longer forget; but he will also no longer think. A double-edged (s)word, if you will. But the new iteration of the pharmakon is the meme. Specifically, the post-I-Can-Has memescape of 2007 onward. And it was the language that did it, Jane. The addition of written language twisted the remedy into a poison, flipped the pharmakon on its invisible axis.     In retrospect, it was in front of our eyes all along. Meme. The noxious word was given to us by who else but those wily ancient Greeks themselves. μίμημα, or mīmēma. Defined as an imitation, a copy. The exact thing Plato warned us against in the Republic. Remember? The simulacrum that is two steps removed from the perfection of the original by the process of — note the root of the word — mimesis. The Platonic ideal of an object is the source: the father, the sun, the ghostly whole. The corporeal manifestation of the object is one step removed from perfection. The image of the object (be it in letters or in pigments) is two steps removed. The author is inferior to the craftsman is inferior to God.     Fuck, out of space. Okay, the illustration on page 46 is fucking useless; I’ll see you there. (21) But we’ll go farther than Plato. Longcat, a photograph, is a textbook example of a second-degree mimesis. (We might promote it to the third degree since the image on the internet is a digital copy of the original photograph of the physical cat which is itself a copy of Platonic ideal of a cat (the Godcat, if you will); but this line of thought doesn’t change anything in the argument.) The text-supplemented meme, on the other hand, the captioned cat, is at an infinite remove from the Godcat, the ultimate mimesis, copying the copy of itself eternally, the written language and the image echoing off each other, until it finally loops back around to the truth by virtue of being so far from it. It becomes its own truth, the fidelity of the eternal copy. It becomes a God.     Writing itself is the archetypical pharmakon and the archetypical copy, if you’ll come back with me to the Phaedrus (if we ever really left it). Speech is the real deal, Socrates says, with a smug little wink to his (written) dialogic buddy. Speech is alive, it can defend itself, it can adapt and change. Writing is its bastard son, the mimic, the dead, rigid simulacrum. Writing is a copy, a mīmēma, of truth in speech. To return to our analogous issue: the image of the cheezburger cat, the copy of the picture-copy-copy, is so much closer to the original Platonic ideal than the written language that accompanies it. (“Pharmakon” can also mean “paint.” Think about it, Jane. Just think about it.) The image is still fake, but it’s the caption on the cat that is the downfall of the republic, the real fakeness, which is both realer and faker than whatever original it is that it represents.    Men and gods abhor the lie, Plato says in sections 382 a and b of the Republic. οὐκ οἶσθα, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, ὅτι τό γε ὡς ἀληθῶς ψεῦδος, εἰ οἷόν τε τοῦτο εἰπεῖν, πάντες θεοί τε καὶ ἄνθρωποι μισοῦσιν; πῶς, ἔφη, λέγεις; οὕτως, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, ὅτι τῷ κυριωτάτῳ που ἑαυτῶν ψεύδεσθαι καὶ περὶ τὰ κυριώτατα οὐδεὶς ἑκὼν ἐθέλει, ἀλλὰ πάντων μάλιστα φοβεῖται ἐκεῖ αὐτὸ κεκτῆσθαι. “Don’t you know,” said I, “that the veritable lie, if the expression is permissible, is a thing that all gods and men abhor?” “What do you     mean?” he said. “This,” said I, “that falsehood in the most vital part of themselves, and about their most vital concerns, is something that no one willingly accepts, but it is there above all that everyone fears it.” Man’s worst fear is that he will hold existential falsehood within himself. And the verbal lies that he tells are a copy of this feared dishonesty in the soul.

Plato goes on to elaborate: “the falsehood in words is a copy of the affection in the soul, an after-rising image of it and not an altogether unmixed falsehood.” A copy of man’s false internal copy of truth. And what word does Plato use for “copy” in this sentence? That’s fucking right, μίμημα. Mīmēma. Mimesis. Meme. The new meme is a lie, manifested in (written) words, that reflects the lack of truth, the emptiness, within the very soul of a human. The meme is now not only an inferior copy, it is a deceptive copy.     But just wait, it gets better. Plato continues in the very next section of the Republic, 382 c. Sometimes, he says, the lie, the meme, is appropriate, even moral. It is not abhorrent to lie to your enemy, or to your friend in order to keep him from harm. “Does it [the lie] not then become useful to avert the evil—as a medicine?” You get one fucking guess for what Greek word is being translated as “medicine” in this passage. Ding ding motherfucking ding, you got it, φάρμακον, pharmakon. The μίμημα is a φάρμακον, the lie is a medicine/poison, the meme is a pharmakon.     But I’m sure that by now you’ve realized the (intentional) mistake in my argument that brought us to this point. I said earlier that the addition of written language to the meme flipped the pharmakon on its axis. But the pharmakon didn’t flip, it doesn’t have an axis. It was always both remedy and poison. The fact that this isn’t obvious to us from the very beginning of the discussion is the fault of, you guessed it, language. The initial lie (writing) clouds our vision and keeps us from realizing how false the second-order lie (the meme) is.     The very structure of the lying meme mirrors the structure of the written word that defines and corrupts it. Once you try to identify an “outside” in order to reveal the lie, the whole framework turns itself inside-out so that you can never escape it. The cat wants the cheezburger that exists outside the meme, but only through the meme do we become aware of the presumed existence of the cheezburger — we can’t point out the absurdity of the world of the meme without also indicting our own world. We can’t talk about language without language, we can’t meme without mimesis. Memes didn’t change between ‘06 and ‘07, it was us who changed. Or rather, our understanding of what we had always been changed. The lie became truth, the remedy became the poison, the outside became the inside. Which is to say that the truth became lie, the pharmakon was always the remedy and the poison, and the inside retreated further inside. It all came full circle. Because here’s the secret, Jane. Language ruined the meme, yes. But language itself had already been ruined. By that initial poisonous, lying copy. Writing.     The First Meme.     Language didn’t attack the meme in 2007 out of spite. It attacked it to get revenge.     Longcat is long. Language is language. Pharmakon is pharmakon. The phoneme topples the grapheme, witches ride through the night, our skulls hide secret messages on their surfaces, Smash Mouth is good after all. Hey now, you’re an all-star. Get your game on.     Go play.

[arhvste]

❝ wanna be yours ❞

miya atsumu x reader — in which atsumu can’t help himself from falling in love all over again when talking to his parents about his favourite topic; you

dt — @seijohlogy ;; jae, hottie, you’re so lovely and i’m very much in love with you, atsumu, oikawa and anyone else you wanna fall in love with <3

“tsumu’ it’s so nice to hear from ya!”

atsumu smiled at the sound of his mothers voice coming from the end of the line as he sat up in his chair properly.

“yeah, sorry i called late this week, i was busy with-”

“-we know tsumu, ya never have to apologize for that. we’re just happy you’re happy.” atsumu’s father cut in swiftly.

atsumu smiled at the reference of you. he always called his parents every wednesday at around 7PM without fail with the exception of today, after promising to take you out to the new restaurant you’d been eying.

“they looked really pretty today ya know,” the setter’s voice perked up as his heart fluttered with eagerness to talk all about you. “like, really pretty.”

“how are they?” atsumu’s mother asked, softness threaded through the tone of her voice. atsumu’s mother had taken an instant shine to you upon meeting you for the first time. her own heart filled with just as much joy listening to her son talk about you, so she’d always make sure to ask questions about your wellbeing and such whenever the opportunity arose.

“great actually, i’ve had more time off this week so i’ve been around them a lot more, oh! yesterday we cooked together for the first time in a while, we actually followed one of yer old recipes.” atsumu chatted as his eyes wandered over to the framed photos placed neatly on the desk.

childhood photos of him and osamu stared back at him through the delicate glass as well as photos from their inarizaki days. his favourite photos however, were the two he had kept preserved in frames different to the other places near the emptier areas around his sleek desk.

two frames outlined with mirrored glass always caught his attention whenever he glanced in their general direction. one photo of the two of you together on the right frame and one of you alone in the left. his eyes instantly gravitate to your face though. he’d practically burned the memory of these photos into his head and he was grateful he did. he loved the way you smiled, the expression making him tumble further and further down the road of being so in love with you. the soft crinkles as your eyes smiled with your lips, held a special place in his heart too. to know that he made you genuinely smile so brightly, it filled his heart with pride and joy and he had no intentions to ever make you stop smiling like that.

“oh really?” his mother hummed curiously on the other end of the line. “i know they would’ve done me justice, but i’m not too sure about you.” she teased as both atsumu and his father laughed.

“they always keep me in check… it was edible just in case ya were wonderin’.”

a soft expression graced the blond’s face as his thoughts stayed content in the mental territory of you.

“when the two of you marry, ya gotta make sure to learn to cook for yerself a bit more.” his father commented. atsumu’s face flushed slightly at the thought of marrying you. sure, he had obviously had thoughts on the topic before, but discussing it so rawly was something he wasn’t so used to yet. the idea of physically and legally making you his and him yours, made his heart stutter and his mind go hazy. he absolutely wanted nothing more.

“you are going to marry them aren't ya?” mrs miya pressed on. atsumu could picture his mothers scolding face and quirked eyebrow upon hearing the strict but playful tone of voice.

“well obviously.” the setter practically scoffed. “i’d be an idiot not to.”

he got up and stretched, phone still in hand and pressed up against his ear. “i wanna have a big wedding someday, for them of course.” he mused as he wandered around the spacious study, eyes scanning the walls littered with polaroids and framed photos hung up. his smile yet to be wiped off as he sighed into the phone.

“good. we already give our blessing for you to give them the surname ‘miya’, they already fit in so well.” atsumu’s father said proudly. he had also taken a liking to you after seeing the control you had over his untamable son. you were his rock and both mr and mrs miya noted this as obvious after observing their sons adoring behaviour around you. they loved you as their in-law already and atsumu still had yet to actually propose yet.

“they suit ‘miya’ don’t they?” atsumu grinned as he stopped in front of a photo of both you and him. a particular favorite of his. msby had just won an important match and you were pictured beaming proudly beside him. his own expression is what really made his heart full. his own eyes looking down at you, rather than an overwhelming look of excitement gracing his face, he looked rather in love. admiring eyes shining at your form, the soft smile tugging at his lips as he registered just how proud he could make you.

miya atsumu was a prideful man, but being a prideful man for you was his brand and he made sure that much was obvious.

dating was great, he loved the dynamic and he loved the openness between the two of you, a pair of matching rings and last names did sound nice to him though. he couldn’t wait to have pictures with those elements included someday. to have a picture of the two of you with the caption ‘the miyas’ matching wedding rings and smiling faces was his ultimate goal. no trophy, medal or title could hold a light to that prize, he wanted to chase after a stable future with you and he’d make sure to go full 100% until he got there.

“they sure do kid, so ya better get down on one knee soon okay?” his mother teased as atsumu snickered.

“i promise.” he spoke firmly.

not just a promise to his parents of course though, but a promise to himself too. he would get down on one knee the next day if he could, but there was a time and place for such a moment to occur and atsumu knew that playing the patience game was worth it sometimes.

he’d find the right moment soon and then, he’d be a step closer to reaching his ultimately desired goal; to be yours for good.

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @dear-kozume @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @crescenttooru @dearestmegumi @kuxredere @warakou @iss6s @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake @wompwomphq @waitforitillwritemywayout @webworld @brokeasshoee @sunasbabie @rowley-with-ackerman @mjoork @trifliz @curiouslilbeast @ineedsomefoodpls @hp-hogwartsexpress @ghostexhibit @kenmacorps @vhskenma @lollypop-lam

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2021 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

[erwinsvow]

𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

note: part two to the college headcanons! part one can be found here! i had a lot of fun writing these and i hope everyone enjoys them :) teacher/student dynamic warning for zeke and hange's, and i guess bullying for annie's :/

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

the very definition of kind-hearted frat boy who doesn’t fit the stereotype he’s been assigned at all

starts off with accounting before realizing he hates math, moves into business management and marketing

the linkedin profile is absolutely popping, 500+ connections and details about every club and organization he’s ever been a part of

the friend that helps everyone find internships and fixes their resumes while offering helpful advice and not being condescending… anyways so that’s how you meet porco

he works at the career center 100% and does various coaching/prep help, and you, pieck’s friend, are in desperate need of an internship

so you’re complaining to your friend as usual, when she tells you to stop by the building and ask for a “pock”

so you do just that, walking in and asking for “pock” and porco is a little stunned by this pretty stranger calling him by a nickname reserved for his close friends, and even then he just barely tolerates it

but he doesn’t want to correct you, especially since you’re being so sweet and he can tell you need some help

so a meeting at the career center slowly turns into facetime calls to review applications and last-minute edits, stopping by your dorm to help you fill out paperwork and walking together to mail it out

i have a feeling porco doesn’t wanna be too forward, and he thinks he’s being very aloof and casual, when he really just seems oblivious

and you cannot tell for the life of you if he likes you or he’s just being friendly since you’re close with pieck

finally after you land the internship and won't have your normal excuse to spend time with him, you get the guts you've been searching for

you tell him about the position later in the day, stopping by the center for hopefully the last time

"by the way, my number's on my resume if you're ever gonna ask me out."

leaves pocky-boy flustered and red and scrambling to ask you out, and you have been happily dating since

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

oh boy

conny is a very typical college kid in the sense that he will sleep through every 8 am class he has, blow off class to go wait in line for the nacho bar, and has adopted the mantra ‘c’s get degrees’

but he is an extremely lovable education major with a focus in history

rarely seen without his shadow sasha, but now that she started dating niccolo, she thinks that conny could use a relationship too, and that it might do him some good to be with a funny, down-to-earth person

thus begins the most grueling two weeks for every girl on campus, as sasha hunts down girls that she thinks would be a good match for her best friend

this includes airdropping a photo of conny to the lecture hall with the caption “would you date this man? serious inquiries only”

creates a fake tinder complete with a google form to narrow down the options

however, none of this is necessary because sasha bumps into you in the smoothie line and causes your triple berry blend to go flying

she helps you clean up and idle conversation leads to you talking about dates and so forth

“well, i’d love to set you up with my best friend? how do you feel about a blind date?”

yes, conny met you, the love of his life, on a blind date set up by sasha with a stranger

it’s one of those funny stories that people don’t believe when you tell them, because how ridiculous is that, but you both think it’s perfect since you get along so well and it made all the waiting worth it

bonus: double dates with sasha and niccolo! fondue night at their apartment, going to the arcade and having to lug up sasha and her food baby while niccolo parks the car, just overall a grand time :)

𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

zeke yeager, ph.d. started his new job at university with one rule in mind: absolutely no illicit affairs

he also coaches the club baseball team, because why not get involved on your campus

he really believes that he’s gonna stick with it too, despite the overwhelming number of students who come to his office hours with questions that his less handsome teaching assistants could answer

but no, he doesn’t want to earn a reputation as that professor, and so he heads into the new semester with absolutely no lingering thoughts of an exciting little dalliance to get him through the monotonous days

he knows his huge lecture classes would always come with a few pretty students, but it’s the smaller, upper-level psych class he’s teaching when he meets you for the first time

zeke has you all figured out, or so he thinks. sitting in the front row, raising your hand for questions he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually have an answer to, neatly handwritten notes in a color-coded notebook. he wouldn’t peg you for the type to jump and take the risk by starting a relationship with a professor.

but he soon realizes that he didn’t have you as figured out as he thought he did.

you avoid the gaggle of freshmen during office hours by scheduling meetings instead, sometimes right before class, coming to him with two cups of coffee and a wide smile that actually had him fooled into thinking you were here for academic reasons

this facade quickly fades though, because after a semester of interactions with you and getting more and more comfortable with each other, to the point where coffee orders are memorized and it’s zeke rather than professor yeager, you’ve had just about enough

he knows he’s fucked when you come visit him at practice for the baseball team, bringing him a drink and engaging in conversation while the players watch their coach flirt with you

he’s especially fucked when he realizes he’s looking forward to practice just because there’s a chance you’ll stop by on your way to your next class

you submit your final paper early, nearly a week before it’s due and of course the first in the class to do so, and waltz into his office the next day with another steaming cup of his favorite drink

“you submitted your paper pretty early, you know.”

“i know. i also know that it means i’m not your student anymore, so if you were going to make a move, now’s the time.”

no, he definitely had underestimated how much he knew about you.

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

mikasa is a forensic sciences major and is still debating on the minor- she’s torn between criminal justice or history like armin.

she loves her major classes, but she just wants something else interesting to look forward to as well, so armin suggests sitting in on a couple classes early in the semester and getting a taste for it.

so you don’t really think twice when she claims the empty seat next to you on the first day of classes, smiling politely and paying attention to the professor. you do notice, however, that she’s not writing anything down or looking at the syllabus, leading you to strike a conversation on why that is.

she explains herself and then before you even know it, the lecture ends and you spent the last forty minutes talking to mikasa about anything and everything.

she’s sitting in on another class tomorrow, and absent mindedly invites you to come along, to which you agree all too quickly, because why wouldn’t you

numbers are exchanged, times are fixed, and mikasa leaves wondering why she’s so excited at the idea of sitting with you in class again.

you two hate the history class she had chosen, with the professor droning on and on and you being focused entirely on the conversation you’re having with mikasa

until the professor kicks the two of you out for not shutting up, that is

you’re both laughing hysterically once you reach the hallway

“i’m gonna have to discourage you from doing that history minor if that’s what all the classes are like.”

“well, i have to do criminal justice so we can have that class together, anyways.”

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭

true to form, annie goes into one of the most difficult majors: cheg. definitely flies through intro courses with straight As and minimal effort, but that’s also mostly because all she and bertholdt do is study

reiner tries his hardest to get her to go to a party every once in a while, but usually to no avail because she always has an exam to study for

you’re a tutor, and honestly, you’d say you were pretty good at your job. you can answer questions and explain reasonings fairly well to confused students. but when annie comes to your office hours with some complicated problems and she’s asking for explanations that you just don’t have, you literally feel your face burn with heat for the entirety of the time she’s there

long story short, your first encounter is embarrassing, to say the least. you’re stumbling over words as you try to look through your old notes and piece together an answer for annie, who you cannot even look in the eyes.

anyways, she leaves eventually and you want a hole to open in the ground and swallow you up, but at least she won’t be back next week, right?

wrong.

miss leonhart doesn’t know how to express her feelings any better than you, so her way of flirting is spending time with you in the tutor center as you fail to answer her questions time and time again

you want to scream at her to stop coming because she and you both know you’re not helping either of you with this

but also you really don’t want her to stop coming because you don’t have any other ways to see her outside of class

both of you reach your wit’s end on the same day, her coming to you with the absolute easiest problems she could find in the textbook, and you with every intention of asking her out to dinner

she opens her book, and you reach and close it quickly

“unless this is the only way you know how to flirt, something has to change now.”

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐞

dr. zoë teaches, just, way too many classes

we’re talking multiple chemistry labs and upper-level research courses as well

you’re just a ph.d. student doing rotations as per usual, and you’ve heard the comments from students senior to you about dr. zoë, who makes every student in rotation say hange instead of the formal way you’re used to

you’ve heard everything from crazy to genius and everything in between

what you weren’t expecting was… so good looking, and young? and comforting? and talking about all the things that you didn’t have the guts to bring up with other people, like how you always feel a little left out in the field and that you think no one cares about your research interests that much—a lot of stuff that you find yourself pouring out to hange on your very first day in the lab

you’re wondering why it’s so easy to talk to them, and why none of the other rotations ever felt this comfortable

and then you realize you’re spilling your guts to someone who probably doesn’t even care, and has way more to deal with on their plate than a ph.d. student with imposter syndrome

so you’re apologizing right after you’ve finished, when you’re met with the warmest look and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

it’s so easy to fall after that, with weekly meetings and regular check-ins, and you know it’s wrong to have this strange crush on your superior, but hange really feels like the one person you can count on here

you hide the crush in favor of getting the mentorship you desperately think you need, but it’s not long until you’re onto the next rotation and the next lab’s work is even closer to the stuff you love

you hate the way you feel, that you’re not gonna have any reason to keep in touch and you never even got to explain how you feel about them—and that you didn’t even get to experience hange’s energy because she was always listening and helping you out

it’s not until you get a text the night before your first day in the new lab from hange, filled with reassuring words and asking for a coffee date later in the week to talk about how it goes, that you realize just how well hange understood you

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

last but not least, miss pieck is double majoring in french and public health

absolutely obsessed with her majors and loves the subjects, but works herself to death to keep up with it all

you don’t even realize that the pretty, studious girl you’re seeing in the library all the time is the same girl you spot with some of your friends from class

pieck is as oblivious as they come. you invite her on study dates after you two are introduced by reiner, invite her to get coffee after a particularly late night of studying, pretty much start spending most of your days together

you can’t help but be disappointed that pieck doesn’t see you in that way, because you’ve slowly been falling head over heels, but you accept that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and you still love the friendship you two have

it takes a while for things to click for pieck, but they do right as the semester eases up

once exams are over, you two decide to go to these famous parties porco and reiner never stop talking about

it’s not the usual scene you’re comfortable with, but what’s wrong with letting loose a little, especially after midterms? no harm in having fun, right?

wrong again! you definitely get plastered way too quickly, and eventually pieck takes you to a room to settle down

drunk confessions of love aren’t usually the way to go, but you can’t help but reveal everything you’ve been feeling for the last few months when pieck is taking care of you in your current state

you definitely wake up hungover and ignorant to last night’s shenanigans, but you’re in your dorm, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, phone plugged in and shoes off

pieck comes back with breakfast, coffee and your favorite pastries, and checks up on you

“so.. about last night..”

“i’m so sorry, did i throw up on you?”

“no, but you did say you were in love with me. was that just a drunk thing, or is it a sober thing too? because i think i’m in love with you too.”

[johannas-motivational-insults]

It’s my granddad’s memorial service today and yesterday my mom served me up this gem:

(It’s the “I hope that’s ok” that really gets me, like that’s not a question that’s a fucking presumption with a guilt trip attached. Also the fact that she started doing it that way and apparently didn’t even think to ask even though I’ve been going by this name for a year now.)

Anyway I don’t expect or care to have my whole life edited or whatever so I said ‘sure’ but then realized that no this is different because the labels are being written now and people will know that, it’s not an old caption and therefore it’s deadnaming me in the present and that feels like it’s disrespecting my identity. But she’s stressed and I didn’t want to make her redo a bunch of work so I kinda halfass said it was fine if it would take too much time to fix, which I hope got across that I wasn’t actually okay with it but wasn’t going to make a stink because it’s not about me. Idk if I should have made a bigger deal of it… maybe I will just discuss it with her later.

But yeah kinda dreading going to this service and likely getting deadnamed a whole bunch by people who haven’t seen me in years and and by the pastor in his speech or whatever (he might not even know better, who knows what my parents have told him) and then having to deal with the confusion if I correct people in conversation because “oh well it says [deadname] in the photos” or whatever. It would be nice to just go and reflect on G’s memory like a normal fucking person at a memorial service but instead I’m stressing about this bullshit. I feel like I’m going to miss out on the necessary catharsis of grieving because I’ll be on the defensive warding off the negative feelings from the deadnaming shit and the well-intentioned remarks about G’s surviving son and his wife and three daughters. Like I am a daughter, kinda, but I’m also kinda a son and it sucks because it feels like my uniqueness is being erased? But when people are well-intentioned and the whole thing is about someone else I would feel bad making a stink. Anyway I am just really Not Looking Forward to this and not for the reasons I would have expected a couple years ago.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey sorry to bother you but could I emergency request comfort headcannons with licorice, dark choco and pure vanilla or just one of the three I’ve been feeling like absolute shit because of family problems I even broke down in school because the pressure and stuff but also if you don’t do emergency requests it’s fine I don’t wanna force you to write something you’re uncomfortable with

I’m here for you sweetheart! Don’t worry! I will take emergency requests if that’s what makes everyone feel better ☺️☺️ if you want to talk I’m right here if you need.

Pure vanilla:

He must have photographic memory because he has your favourite foods, movies, that plushie you got by mistake by ended up growing an emotional bond with, and your favourite fuzzy blanket mesmerised to a t.

Sends cute animal memes/videos/reaction stock photos with captions such as ‘your doing great’ ‘Hang in there’ and so on that never fails to make you laugh or at least smile.

Pure vanilla would let you take charge of what happens for the day whether you wanted to binge watch your favourite show in bed or go through the woods for some fresh air and some cute animals for company. He’s down for it all if it mean at least giving you some peace of mind. If you wanted to talk about your issues and he’d try and help out by giving some advice seeing as he’s quite intellectual but only if you let him.

Cuddle master right here. The smell of vanilla will always sent you into a peaceful and calming slumber as he rubs your back and arms reminding you that he was gonna be there no matter what.

Liquorice cookie:

Lends you his rant notebooks as if he was Regina George with the burn book, talking shit about everyone who ever wronged you or your problems could be quite the therapeutic experience with the added bonus of some crude drawings. This would be his main method of expressing how he felt without having to confined in someone about his issues and he though it would be beneficial for you as bottling up your emotions wasn’t exactly the healthiest.

Would have brute and or bat-cat entertain you by doing stupid shit or would do stupid shit himself ,whether accidental or intentional, in order to lift your spirits and make you laugh, smile since non one was there for him when he felt like shit so he’s really trying his hardest.

Would use his magic when all else fails because magic is what he does best. He just loves the look of awe on your face. It gets him every time.

Liquorice would remind you how awesome you are in comparison to it here as no one else would’ve struck up a conversation with him upon first glance but you did which automatically set you apart from everyone but also the fact that you achieved more then others ever could and liquorice would make a big deal out of it.

Will be out for revenge against the bastards who made you feel like shit, he wants names, addresses, postcodes, everything.

I like to believe that he has a skin care routine because how else is he meant to stay dashingly evil? So there will be a self care day where you treat yourself to anything and everything whilst finishing the day with some cuddles and movies in a blanket fort.

Dark choco cookie:

Another one who isn’t so confident in their comforting abilities but is actually a great comforter.

Dark choco maybe stiff with this sort of stuff but once he get the hang of things he’d become more and more open to more physical forms of comfort such as cuddling, hugs, etc.

He’s a great shoulder to cry on and he gives the best advice out of all three of them if I’m being honest but sadly that advice might come from a place of experience. He’s also a great listener to boot. So no detail gets left unheard with him. He’s also a believer that you should express your frustrations in anyways possible as withholding them isn’t the healthiest method and would only cause you more harm in the process.

Probably reads to you. He’s got a nice voice that can sooth you into a sense of security and like vanilla his scent of bitter dark chocolate would ease you further into relaxation. I personally believes that he reads before going to sleep so for him to read to to sleep or tell stories of what could possibly be awaiting you tomorrow is his strongest form of comfort.

Dark chocolate is more likely to verbally comfort you then physically but he’s not against cuddling you against his side, listening to his even breaths if it meant taking your mind off of things.

[cupcakemolotov]

Feel Like Home: Part 2

When your date night goes weird, sometimes you gotta SOS call your BFF. Particularly when you wake up with a slight case of amnesia and no idea where you are or who you where with. (Even if the bed is super comfy and the sheets smell nice. It’s still an emergency.) 

Warnings: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson; Bonnie Bennett; Caroline Forbes; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Alternate Universe - Fantasy; Dragon!Klaus; Human!Caroline; Temporary Amnesia; Witchcraft; Canon-Typical Violence; Magical Shenanagins; Bonnie is the best; Caroline's Date Goes Sideways

                                                       -

The air had turned brittle.

Caroline curled her arms around herself, bouncing slightly on her toes to warm up. Past-her had clearly planned for the weather, her favorite jeans in her to-go bag, her fall jacket tucked into a closet. But standing in the bedroom of a man she couldn’t remember, she’d held the clean shirt she’d packed that made her think of coffee houses and brunch, of mimosas and laughter, and she’d placed it carefully back inside her bag.

Today wasn’t that kind of day.

They were on a rescue mission for a man she couldn’t remember but who lingered on her skin in a spray of golden sparks. Standing in his bedroom, her memories scattered and hidden, she hadn’t been willing to leave with something tangible. A promise that this wasn’t a strange fever dream she’d wake up from, gasping and alone. So she’d tiptoed into his closet like a thief and snagged a Henley, worn soft with use, and tucked it beneath her jacket.

A small memento, she told herself. Sure, her wrist glowed sometimes in the sunshine and she had dozens of texts and a couple of angry messages with rude captions of Klaus looking more amused than angry to tell her that this wasn’t entirely fake. Maybe wildly unbelievable, but somehow apparently mostly real and her life. She was dating a dragon, and a group of very angry witches were trying to take him out of commission.

The part of her that was human was somewhat sympathetic. Being considered lesser sucked. But the part of her that was decent and petty and loyal, those parts scoffed at what seemed like a very shoddy plan with too many weak points. Because the witches had done to her exactly what Klaus had done to them: discounted someone perceived as weaker as a non threat.

Sucked to be them, whoever they were. She’d no intention of letting them steal a chunk of her life. So that meant staging a rescue, but why did it have to be so damn cold?

Rubbing her arms, Caroline sighed loudly. “Tell me again why we couldn’t stay at the apartment? I’m pretty sure my tits are going to poke a hole in my bra soon.”

Bonnie shot her a look, cozy and warm in her winter jacket. She even had boots. Caroline was wearing her date-heels, and her feet were cold. The flats she packed were not the kind built for stomping through the back alleys of New York City. Say what you would about the price of impractical shoes, but these were well made and pointy enough she could probably kill a man. Plus, they did great things for her legs and she did enjoy looming. She was in a mood for looming.

If her toes didn’t break off from the cold first.

“Because eventually, the witches behind this are going to realize that they don’t have control of Klaus’ magic and the first place they are going to try to search is his apartment.” Bonnie shoved her hair out of her face. “I have no idea how his wards work, so better to assume they are less functional than usual.”

“But it’s cold.”

Expression severe, Bonnie shrugged. “Maybe you should have raided Klaus’ closet for a more substantial shirt than what you grabbed.”

“Rude,” Caroline muttered, crossing her arms. “Who exactly are we meeting, since you’re pretty sure we can’t trust anyone? You obviously didn’t tell my mom what was going on or she’d be here with her shotgun, and complaining about jurisdictions. I didn’t realize there was an unknown in the inner circle.”

Bonnie grimaced, hands shoving deep into her pockets. Her expression turned shifty. “A friend.”

Caroline’s eyebrows lifted. “A friend? What kind of friend?”

“Just a friend.”

Leaning back against the wall, she snorted. “If I search my phone after this is over, am I going to find a list of lost text messages about this friend?”

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Bonnie mimicked her stance, arms crossing. “Not everything has to be complicated, you know.”

“Ah, Bonnie Bonnet. Still breaking my heart, I see. Here I thought at the very least we were complicated.”

Full drabble is on A03

Part One | Part Two