#there is no straight explanation for that

[slytherin-princess-x]

Don’t get caught

Theodore nott x y/n riddle

An/ hi guys I’m back with a new short story, enjoy

The air in my dorm room was thick, charged with the illicit thrill of stolen moments. Theodore’s hands were tangled in my hair, his lips hot and demanding against mine. My back was pressed against the cool wood of the door, my legs locked around his waist for balance. The world outside the confines of our clandestine bubble ceased to exist.

We’d been doing this for weeks now, navigating the treacherous waters of Hogwarts’ social scene while attempting to keep our relationship a secret. It was a dangerous game, one made all the more exhilarating by the lurking threat of discovery. Tonight, the risk felt palpable as his fingers grazed my bare skin beneath my school shirt, sending shivers that had nothing to do with the cold castle air.

Then, the world crashed back in with a jarring knock. My heart leaped into my throat, and I knew, before I even heard their voices, that our recklessness was about to catch up with us.

“Hey y/n, open the door!” Mattheo’s voice boomed from the other side, followed by Tom's, more measured but just as insistent, "Open up y/n."

Panic, cold and sharp, shot through me. I pulled away from Theo, my cheeks burning. The kiss was broken, the spell shattered. Theo, his grey eyes flashing with annoyance, released me, clearly frustrated at the interruption. I scrambled to unwrap my legs from his waist, my movements jerky and hurried. He was about to protest, his mouth opening to say something, but I slapped a hand over his lips, my eyes wide with warning.

“Shhh!” I hissed, pointing to the narrow gap between the door and the wall. He glared, but understood the gravity of the situation.

I pushed him behind the door where he wouldn’t be seen when I opened it. My shirt was disheveled, my breathing heavy, the only thing I had was my school shirt and my underwear. I tried to appear as calm as possible under the circumstances. Taking a deep breath, I edged the door open just enough to create a narrow opening, my back pressed against the frame.

“Hey Mattheo,” I said, my voice a little breathy. I focused my gaze on my brother's face, careful not to let my eyes wander past the threshold. “I’m kinda busy, sorry.”

Mattheo tilted his head, a flicker of suspicion in his dark eyes. "Busy? At this hour? What could be so important that you can't open the door?" he questioned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Tom, ever the observer, stood behind Mattheo, his expression unreadable. I knew what they were both thinking.

My mind raced, trying to come up with a believable explanation. "Oh you know… study, cleaning… loads of things" I rambled, wincing at the patheticness of my alibi. It was clear I was flustered and it didn't go unnoticed by my brothers.

Meanwhile, Theo decided to be a menace. I felt his tongue dart out to lick my palm. He was testing me, pushing the boundaries of our precarious game. It was a dumb move, but a wave of something almost like amusement washed over me. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to see what I would do when put under pressure. Wrapping my hand around his neck, I squeezed gently, my nails grazing his skin. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't resist, the amused smirk still playing on his lips. I knew what he wanted. If he wanted to play, I would play.

"You sound a little out of breath" Tom stated, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the small gap through the door.

"I um.. was just doing some yoga to wind down" I stammered, trying to maintain a straight face. I could feel Theo fidgeting behind the door, I hoped he would stay put.

Mattheo chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent another wave of panic through me. "Yoga? Really?" He was obviously not convinced either.

"Yeah, it helps me relax, you know?" I continued to lie, wishing I had an invisibility cloak handy.

I could feel their eyes piercing me, trying to see through the narrow gap. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. This was it, I thought, they were going to figure it out. I could almost hear Theo's exasperated sigh behind me.

"Well, if you're not going to open the door, I guess we'll just go" Mattheo said. He backed away slightly, Tom following him.

"Whatever" I huffed, trying to act like it didn't bother me that they didn't believe me with a small roll of my eyes.

The brothers gave me one last look before finally turning away. As soon as I heard their footsteps fade down the hall, I slammed the door shut, letting out a shaky breath of relief.

I immediately turned to Theo, my gaze full of equal parts panic and anger. "That was too close!' I hissed, my voice trembling. He peeled my hand off his mouth, his expression still annoyed despite the close call.

"Tell me about it, now where were we?" he said grabbing my face and pulling me in for another kiss, my panic immediately forgotten as I was swept into our secret world once more.

Taglist: @yootvi @redeemingvillains @littlemadamred @smut-anarchy

[possibly-god]

Threshold: Unlocking the Good Ending

Happy Threshold Day, everyone! Here's how that nonsense (and beyond) could have gone differently if Tom Paris had chosen different dialogue options. Inspired by this post by @starship-butterfly

Tom talks his way back into the Warp 10 test another way – he and Harry figured it out together, they should test it together. Plus, two heads are better than one if something goes wrong, and there’s no one he trusts more to have his back.

Just as before, right as everyone’s praising them as heroes, Tom goes down. At first everyone assumes it’s the Doctor’s “2% chance” coming to pass… and then Harry goes out too.

They babble and reminisce together in the surgical bay. They clasp hands as they die and embrace as they reawaken. They butt heads and bond as they mutate – Harry rips Tom’s tongue from his mouth, Tom helps Harry not to choke as his detaches.

Between the two of them, busting out is no problem – for them, at least. Before the Doctor can get them anywhere near the warp core, Tom and Harry are out of Sick Bay, in the shuttle, and off God knows where.

When the crew finally tracks the duo down, they’ve gone full amphibian – including froggy sex-swapping adaptations, because the lizard babies must exist in every timeline (let’s be real, “turn into frogs and have frog babies with your bestie” is such a Harry Kim thing to happen).

As does Chakotay going “fuck them kids” – against Tuvok’s advisement, Janeway agrees to keep the incident classified.

And then, of course, the Doctor spills the beans (“Any other symptoms?” “I don’t know, my abdomen is cramping something awful…” “That’s hardly surprising, you did just give birth.” “…what.”).

The second they’re unsupervised, Harry is dragging Tom to the shuttle bay (he was sedated during the reveal but is onboard as soon as Harry strings together a coherent explanation) because they can work through that mountain of weird feelings later but right now Babies.

Meanwhile everyone on Voyager is freaking the hell out because they just stole the fuCKING SHUTTLE AGAIN-

The second they touch back down on Voyager, Tom is out of the shuttle and straight-up decking Chakotay before he can say “what the hell” and having strong words with Janeway when she tries to object (Tuvok coolly decides not to get involved).

Harry meanwhile is sprinting to the med bay (he’s not risking the transporter with neonates of an unrecorded species) with an armful of deeply bewildered salamanders.

A temporary habitat is set up in Sick Bay while their care needs are established – including enrichment and education, because as a brain scan and mind meld determine, these kiddos are indeed fully sapient (and very confused and scared by the events of the past few days).

The crew asks about reverting them back to baseline human, but the Doctor informs them there’s nothing to revert – his method works off the subject having been human at some point, and these kids have never not been squishy.

They can’t stay in Sick Bay forever, of course, and will require regular care wherever they end up – ultimately, it’s decided the whole family will move into a vacant officers’ quarters, with Engineering converting the common area into a tank/terrarium.

Of course, this new cohabitation situation means confronting that mountain of weird feelings – after a rather fraught period of counseling, parenting establishment, and romantic experimentation, Tom and Harry eventually settle into a mostly-platonic partnership.

Amid said period, the kids finally get names – meet Philo Jonah, Micah Drew, and Jamie Kris Paris-Kim (after esteemed Starfleet captains, tweaked for gender neutrality – even if they can guess the kids’ sexes now, there’s no guarantee they’ll stay that way).

Harry with the babies:

Tom with the babies:

Whenever both Harry and Tom have to be on duty (or just need a break), other crewmates are often roped into babysitting (Chakotay volunteers whenever he can, mostly out of guilt – when he can’t himself, he can usually talk B’elanna into it).

As “evolved beings”, the triplets’ intellectual development is accelerated – when they’re about 2 years old, they start going to lessons and holodeck playdates with Naomi Wildman, and later the Borg kids.

While the Paris-Kims prefer a warm, damp environment, amid the regular chaos on Voyager it’s discovered that they can withstand just about anything due to the nature of the Threshold mutation (essentially, having briefly existed at every point in the universe at Warp 10, the human body attempted to adapt to all of them, settling on Extremophilic Amphibian as Most Likely To Survive Everywhere) – a trait which comes in handy in some particular disasters.

Language is an interesting challenge with the triplets – they can understand Federation Standard, but can’t vocalize it, so they have to come up with and teach their own chirp-based analogues (coding “Pakimese” into the ship’s translator becomes Micah’s pet project).

Their physical growth is also unusual, quite different from their parents (it seems being born fishy is more stable than having fishiness thrust upon one), as they slowly develop more humanoid arms and thoraces while never showing hind leg stumps – by adulthood they’ve nearly gone full mermaid.

To help the kids get around the ship without having to crawl everywhere, Harry and B’elanna develop mobility devices for them, creating a sort of hybrid wheelchair-segway that allows the kids to lie forward in their natural posture rather than sit backwards in a chair.

Harry gets a promotion. This has nothing to do with Threshold, it just needs to happen.

Tom’s initially reluctant to pursue a relationship with B’elanna with his family obligations, but Harry eventually encourages him. When the two get married, Harry and the kids are Tom’s groomsmen, and when B’elanna gets pregnant, family swim time is one of the first planned activities.

Once contact is reestablished with the Alpha Quadrant, it takes Harry a few tries before he works up the courage to tell his family about their new additions. It takes John and Mary a while to fully grasp their origins (“Who’s the lucky girl?” “Um… Tom?”), but they adore their grandkids from day one.

Tom, meanwhile, staunchly refuses to inform his father about his grandchildren, not wanting him to mess them up too – when Voyager finally reaches Earth, Owen Paris damn near has a heart attack when he finds Tom with 2 partners and 4 kids.

In adulthood, Philo becomes a geoengineer and joins one of the first permanent survey outposts in the Delta Quadrant, reconnecting with and later marrying her childhood friend Mezoti. Micah settles on Earth as a xenolinguistics professor, programming fantasy holonovels in their spare time. Jamie is the only one to join Starfleet as an officer, studying astrogation and becoming the first “human” in Cetacean Ops.

[sappho-favourite-pupil]

i'd like to say something tho. thinking about it after a few months, about how i see a lot of people claiming caitvi is not abusive, and that the only reason why the writers didn't let those two discuss anything serious that happened between them is because they "didn't have enough time to adress that". it's bullshit. you do realise it's bullshit, right? they literally gave us a WHOLE episode about Ekko and Jinx IN AN ALTERNATIVE REALITY.

to me it's not only extremely forced - in season 1 the only interaction they have is trying to kill each other -, but also pretty sad to think they wouldn't spare 5 minutes to make the (main, in theory) lesbian couple have a much needed conversation but somehow found the time to dedicate a whole ass episode to the forced, out of the blue straight ship taking place in an inexplicably utopic reality.

all of this to say if the writers decided not to really adress any of the shit Caitlyn had done is not because they didn't have the time, but because they clearly realised any attempt at doing so would have only made the situation worse. bad writing at its finest.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Hong Lu is beginning to Crack

The most recent Intervallo, LCB Regular Check-up, gave a lot to chew on for a lot of us. From lore drops for the Sin Analysts of us, to an important moment for Don Quixote, to subtle hints of something brewing under the surface for Gregor.

There was, also, a lot of Hong Lu foreshadowing, even though he barely had over ten lines in the entire Intervallo. As much as I'd love to go off and overanalyze every single line he's had, I'd rather focus on one main point that this Intervallo cemented.

That being Hong Lu's repressed anger.

Of course, this means we have to talk about this moment here. Upon Hohenheim explaining how Peccatula Irae connect to the concept of Wrath, the following exchange takes place:

Now, before this explanation takes place, we have an extended moment where Hohenheim focuses on the Sinners' lack of agency in their situation. They're effectively prisoners, without any control over their situations, unable to say no or even act as individuals.

I'm pointing this out, because when Hong Lu interprets Wrath as rage and compares it to Sinclair's behavior, he specifically calls out a similar lack of control. Sinclair's Wrath presents itself through an extreme sort of anger that makes him completely lose any control over himself, a stark contrast to how controlled and downright repressed Hong Lu is in most of his behavior, as pointed out by Sinclair.

I want to linger a bit on the answer Hong Lu gives Sinclair here, because I feel there are layers to this line. What Hong Lu is saying here is that he very much has things to burn. There's enough fuel to sustain a fire were he to indulge in it. But he never actually sees a reason to start that fire, to let any spark start it. Because he believes it to be meaningless.

In less poetic words, I believe what Hong Lu is saying here is that he has plenty of reasons to be angry, and perhaps even straight up has a lot of anger that he's actively repressing. However, because he realized that acting out won't actually change anything, he no longer sees any reason to indulge in that anger. Whether the fire burns everything down or not, it won't change anything, so why even bother? Why lose control when it won't even do anything meaningful?

However.

If that's all I would have wanted to talk about, I wouldn't have made a wholeass post about it.

The actual reason I'm talking about this is because I believe we have already seen Hong Lu begin to snap at others. And not only that, but I believe we're already seeing a pattern as to what exactly causes Hong Lu to start to slip in his emotional repression.

What do I mean by Hong Lu snapping at others?

Well, generally Hong Lu is shown to be very good at directing conversations without being too disruptive. He waits his turn before shifting subjects to what he wants everyone to focus on, or at least doesn't directly interrupt anyone, waiting for a lull or an opportunity to jump in rather than asserting himself by directly stomping over someone else's words. Even when he redirects Meursault in Hell's Chicken, he doesn't directly interrupt him, instead waiting for a pause before making his move.

Or at least, that was how he always did it until recently.

See, starting with Canto 7, Hong Lu has begun to have moments where he goes against his usual pattern of behavior. He directly interrupted others.

Remember how the focus of what Hong Lu understands as Sinclair's rage is that he screamed so fiercely he lost control of his body? I believe Hong Lu's interruptions are of a similar nature. A similar loss of control due to his anger escaping through the cracks, causing him to be unable to wait his turn and to say his piece before the other person can finish.

I believe there are, as of now, two notable occurances of him snapping like that.

First is in Canto 7, when Gregor begins to muse over what would happen if Hong Lu were to witness the death of a dear family member.

Then there's the second one, that we only just recieved in the most recent Intervallo - Sinclair showing hesitation to kill Peccatula for the test, due to the fact these ones aren't actually posing danger to anyone, which causes Hong Lu to snap and interrupt him with a Very Loaded Question (one that I am extremely curious as to how it would be voiced btw).

We're already starting to see a pattern forming around what exactly makes Hong Lu actually begin to crack.

Both of these scenes notably include Hong Lu getting in some way emotional over death and its meaning.

With Gregor, it's the implied death of someone close to him, causing Hong Lu to snap back with a very straightforward answer as to what his reaction to such an event would be, denying that such a death would have any further effect on him.

With Sinclair, it's the implication that killing for the sake of survival is different to killing just because, causing Hong Lu to snap with a loaded question that carries the idea that he himself considers both kinds of death equally as devoid of meaning.

For a reason we don't know yet, the suggestion that death could be anything other than completely meaningless is enough for Hong Lu's repressed anger to start leaking through.

And, that made me think. Because of one voiceline.

There is, in fact, a single voiceline in Limbus Company, where Hong Lu's voice contains clear and unrestrained anger.

Cavernous Wailing corroded voiceline.

The visual design of which shows Hong Lu with mismatched limbs, only half of which are corroded; an empty eye socket on his shoulder, the eye from which being transplanted somewhere else; and a moving sprite that shows him covering his face with his hands.

And it made me think.

The death of a loved one, one which happened to save another life. One which Hong Lu considers to be so utterly meaningless that being reminded of it is the only thing able to cause him to lose control over his emotions and let his anger leak through.

There's certainly someone that Hong Lu continues to never mention, isn't there?

Anger that's as meaningless as their death, is it now?

Hong Lu. Just how much do you blame yourself for Daiyu's 'death'? And just how much anger do you hold over your family for allowing this to happen?

[hypokeimena]

Respectfully, why do you keep writing image ids where you don't know what's in the image? I think you're doing the opposite of accessibility.

disrespectfully: you can go fuck yourself.

while i have you (my followers) on the line, take this as another exhortation to please read against access.

[saebyeokbliss]

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU— PART III.

synopsis: on a cold january day, you were worrying about the reason your girlfriend wasn’t texting back. when she finally does and asks to meet at your apartment, you’re met with heartbreak as she ends your relationship. no explanation. two years later, you run into her at a cafe with someone new. what are you to do?

warnings: none

pairing: sae-byeok x fem!reader

Your hands trembled as you stared down at your coffee cup, the bitter taste still lingering in your mouth. The laughter and chatter of the cafe blurred into background noise as you tried to process what had just happened. Seeing her again—after all this time—was like reopening a wound you thought had scarred over. And then there was her, the girl sitting beside her, a stranger who felt too familiar in the picture of Sae-byeok’s life.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

Pushing your chair back abruptly, you grabbed your things and made your way toward the restroom. Your footsteps felt heavy, like you were dragging yourself through molasses, your chest tight and your throat aching with the threat of tears. You told yourself you just needed a moment. A moment to breathe, to escape the suffocating weight of her presence.

But of course, even that wouldn’t come easily.

The restroom had a small line—two girls ahead of you, chatting quietly as they waited. You exhaled shakily, crossing your arms and staring down at the tiled floor. The air here was quieter, calmer, but your heart still raced. You couldn’t get the image of Sae-byeok out of your head: her cold stare, her sharp words, the way she had turned away from you like you were nothing.

The door behind you opened, letting in the hum of the cafe again, and someone stepped in. You didn’t bother looking up, too wrapped up in your thoughts—until a voice behind you spoke.

“So, how do you and Sae-byeok know each other?”

You froze, your head snapping up. Standing directly behind you was the girl from their table. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her jacket, her sharp eyes watching you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. You noticed the nose ring on her nostril, thinking it looked nice before focusing back on your shock. She tilted her head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

“I mean,” she continued casually, “Cheol doesn’t just run up to random strangers, you know? You’ve got to be someone special.”

Her tone was light, teasing, but the question hit you like a punch to the gut. You looked away, your mind scrambling for an answer. “I—uh…” you stammered, caught completely off guard. “We…used to know each other.”

“‘Used to,’ huh?” The girl raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Guessing it didn’t end well, judging by the way she looked at you back there.”

You frowned, your chest tightening. “Why do you care?”

She shrugged, leaning lazily against the wall as the line in front of you moved forward slightly. “I don’t, really. Just curious. Sae-byeok doesn’t talk about her past much, so it’s not every day someone pops up out of nowhere and gets Cheol all excited.”

Her words stung more than they should have. Sae-byeok didn’t talk about her past? About you? Not that you had any right to expect otherwise, but still—it hurt.

The girl must have noticed the shift in your expression because her smirk softened into something more neutral. “Sorry,” she said, though her tone was still casual. “Didn’t mean to pry. I just like to know what’s going on, you know? Helps me keep things…interesting.”

You glanced at her, unsure what to make of her. She seemed relaxed, almost too comfortable for someone who had just walked up to a stranger and started interrogating them. But there was something else in her eyes, something sharp and knowing, like she could see straight through you.

“So, what’s your deal, then?” she asked, crossing her arms as she studied you. “You a friend? An ex? Something more dramatic?”

Your stomach twisted at the word “ex.” You didn’t owe her an explanation, but something about her presence—the way she asked so bluntly, without any malice or judgment—made you feel like you couldn’t just brush her off.

“I’m…” you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “I was her girlfriend. Couple years ago.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up slightly, but she didn’t look surprised. If anything, she looked…amused. “Huh. That explains a lot.”

You furrowed your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing bad,” she said quickly, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “It’s just…Sae-byeok’s not exactly the easiest person to get close to, you know? And yet, Cheol ran up to you like you were his favorite person in the world. That says something.”

Her words made your chest ache. You didn’t know how to respond, so you stayed silent, staring at the floor as the line moved forward again. Almost your turn.

The girl didn’t seem to mind the silence. She leaned against the wall again, watching you with that same unreadable expression. “For what it’s worth,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now, “Cheol’s a good judge of character. If he likes you, you can’t be all bad.”

You glanced at her, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. There was something almost…sincere in her words, a brief crack in her otherwise playful demeanor. But before you could respond, the door to the restroom opened, and the line moved forward again.

You stepped up to the front, your heart still racing. The girl straightened up, giving you a small nod. “Well, good luck with…whatever this is,” she said with a smirk, motioning vaguely toward the rest of the cafe. “Don’t let her scare you too much.”

With that, she turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, her words echoing in your mind.

When it was finally your turn, you stepped into the restroom and locked the door behind you, leaning against it as you tried to steady your breathing. Your mind raced, replaying everything that had just happened. Who was that girl? How did she fit into Sae-byeok’s life? And why did she feel the need to talk to you in the first place?

But most of all, one question lingered in your mind—the same question that had haunted you for the past two years.

Why did Sae-byeok leave?

You splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would clear your thoughts, but it didn’t help. When you finally left the restroom, the girl was gone, and the cafe felt emptier somehow, even with all the people still there.

And Sae-byeok? She didn’t even glance your way.

Here’s the next part of Chapter 3, picking up after the restroom scene and moving into the reader’s job interview at the diner. This section introduces a warm and kind character in the diner owner while subtly laying the groundwork for the reveal that Sae-byeok is the manager.

After leaving the cafe, you spent the rest of the morning trying to shake the encounter from your mind. The image of Sae-byeok sitting at the table with that girl—Ji-yeong, you had overheard her name—played on a loop in your head. No matter how hard you tried to focus on something else, the ache in your chest refused to subside.

But life didn’t leave much room for wallowing. You had a job interview to get to.

By the time you reached the diner, a quaint little place tucked into the corner of a bustling street, the knot in your stomach had shifted from emotional turmoil to nerves. The sign above the door read Haneul’s Diner in faded lettering, and the smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee wafted out every time the door swung open.

You took a deep breath, clutching your resume tightly in your hand as you stepped inside. The bell above the door jingled softly, and you were greeted by the warm hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes. It was cozy, with checkered floors and booths lined with red vinyl seats. The kind of place that felt like it had been around forever.

"Hello there! Sit tight, dear, I’ll be with you in a moment," a cheerful voice called out from behind the counter.

You looked up to see an older woman bustling around, her silver hair pulled back into a neat bun. She wore a crisp white apron over her dress, and her kind eyes crinkled as she smiled at you. She reminded you of the type of grandmother who always kept her cookie jar full and had a story for every occasion.

You nodded, taking a seat at one of the empty booths near the entrance. Your hands fidgeted with the edges of your resume as you waited, your nerves winding tighter with every passing minute.

After a few moments, the woman walked over, wiping her hands on a towel before tucking it into her apron pocket. "You must be here for the interview," she said warmly, her smile widening. "I’m Mrs. Haneul, the owner. It’s lovely to meet you, dear."

You stood quickly, offering a small bow. "Yes, it’s nice to meet you too. Thank you for taking the time to see me."

She waved off your formalities with a chuckle. "Oh, don’t be so stiff. Come on, let’s sit down and chat."

You followed her to a small table near the back, away from the noise of the other customers. She settled into the seat across from you, clasping her hands together on the table. "So, tell me about yourself. What brings you here?"

You handed her your resume, though she barely glanced at it before setting it aside. "Well, I’m a med student," you began, your voice a little shaky. "I’ve been juggling school and part-time jobs, but it’s been… a lot. I saw your listing and thought this might be a good fit."

Mrs. Haneul nodded thoughtfully, her gaze warm and understanding. "Med school, huh? That’s no small feat. You must be a hard worker."

You smiled faintly. "I try to be."

"And why this job?" she asked, leaning back in her chair. "What made you think a diner would be the right place for you?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer. "I think I just… need something steady," you admitted. "Something that feels a little more… grounded, I guess. And I like working with people. I thought this might be a good change of pace."

Her smile softened, and she nodded again. "I like that answer. Honest and straightforward. We could use someone like that around here."

Your heart lifted slightly at her words, though you didn’t want to get your hopes up just yet. "Thank you. I really appreciate the opportunity."

Mrs. Haneul studied you for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Then she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "I’ll be honest with you, dear. This place has been busier than ever lately, and we’ve been short-staffed for weeks. I was planning to take my time with interviews to find the right fit, but… I like you. You seem genuine. And we really need the help."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Does that mean…?"

"It means you’ve got the job," she said with a grin. "If you want it, that is."

Relief washed over you like a wave, and you nodded quickly. "Yes, I do. Thank you so much."

"Wonderful!" she said, clapping her hands together. "We’ll get you started tomorrow, then. You’ll mostly be helping out with serving and cleaning, but don’t worry—I’ll make sure you get the hang of it."

"Thank you," you said again, your voice filled with gratitude. This job wasn’t going to solve all your problems, but it was a step in the right direction. A little stability in the chaos of your life.

Mrs. Haneul stood, motioning for you to follow her as she walked back toward the counter. "Before you go, let me introduce you to the manager. She’s not here right now, but you’ll be working closely with her, so it’s good to know who she is."

You nodded, trailing behind her as she grabbed a small clipboard from the counter. She flipped through a few pages before speaking again. "Her name is Sae-byeok. She’s been with us for a couple of years now, and she runs a tight ship. Don’t let her cold demeanor fool you—she’s got a good heart."

Your footsteps faltered, your breath catching in your throat. For a moment, it felt like the world had tilted on its axis.

No. It couldn’t be.

"She’ll be in tomorrow to show you the ropes," Mrs. Haneul continued, oblivious to your sudden silence. "I’ll let her know you’ll be starting."

You managed a weak smile, your mind racing. "Thank you," you said quietly, though the words felt hollow.

As you stepped outside, the cold air hit you like a slap, but it did little to clear your head. The relief you’d felt moments ago was gone, replaced by a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Of course it’s her, you thought bitterly. Because why wouldn’t it be? The universe seemed to have a cruel sense of humor when it came to Sae-byeok. No matter how hard you tried to move on, she always found a way back into your life.

And now, she was going to be your boss.

taglist: @monroesturnns @everly-summers-solace

if you want to be updated with new chapters, ask to be added on the taglist!!

[atzhrts]

ok this random idea for a drabble just popped into my head about masseuse anton getting hard when giving you a massage because of you saying how he’s “hitting the right spots” and “feels good” and then fast forward it turns into a happy ending SJSJBDSB

includes: pervy anton, the word pray is used in a rather unholy context

he was already staring at your tits the minute you walked into his salon, your sweet voice going straight to his dick. his friends always told him how lucky he is to see that many tits in his job and he always dismissed them, it’s his job and it’s a professional setting, it would be wrong to actively look at a customers private parts. but all his morals are gone the second he lays his eyes on you, telling your to get naked and lay down before he leaves the room, purposely leaving the door open ever so slightly. it’s not his fault that he forgot something in the room, he just had to turn around!!! granted he didn’t have to watch you take off your clothes and lay down on his massage table, eyes fixated on the way tits bounce as you climb onto the surface but he is just a man he can’t help it!!!

and as soon as he gets his hand on your body every part of self restraint he still had is out of the window. the way you slightly jump from the cold oil hitting your skin makes him pray that the action expose your hard nipples before he shakes his head trying to get these unholy thoughts out.

but it’s like you know exactly what you are doing, it’s like you saw the effect you had on anton and decided to play it for your advantage and maybe get a free massage and a good fuck out of it. he doesn’t have another explanation to your straight up moans hitting his ears every time he goes over a particular tense spot.

“you’re really tense” anton hopes you can’t tell he already went over the time limit as he tries to come up with excuses why he massaged you longer than he ever has anyone else.

and you, you never thought getting a massage prescribed from your doctor would lead you to get your back blown out by said masseur.

[leftneb]

you can now download the original excel file with all the raw data/various other sorting options/mad ramblings if you enjoy staring at graphs as much as I do! once again feel free to ask for explanations/interpretations any time this thing is like a child to me

note: you do have to dowload the file in order to be able to look at any of the graphs, opening it straight from drive will only give you a google sheets export. which is shit and doesn't work.

this graph is possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever made in my life and I want to explain what's going on so bad but I can't be arsed PLEASE just have it data nerds 👐 stats based on the reblogs of the 2025 grid biasorder (only the first 50 because there's a limit to even my insanity)

[starlitvases]

Unfortunately you do have to make a post explaining what introjection is and why its bad if you don’t support it /nm /gen

Hello, let's a get a few things straight.

1) I never claimed that introjection is bad, and I never said I don't support it. The initial post this anon is referring to involves me stating that holding onto the belief that you are a literal fictional character is anti-recovery rhetoric. Either the anon misunderstood my post, or they're twisting my words, the second of which I don't appreciate.

2) I am a nursing student and am currently employed at a disability office. I know what recovery should ideally look like and what it doesn't look like. Aside from that, people more qualified than me have studied this element of psychology, and there are plenty of resources out there explaining what I'm talking about.

But since you and the original post author asked, and since I'm running on 26 hours of no sleep and don't care to wait for the morning to make this post, you'll get my explanation now. Apologies in advance if my tone sounds rude or aggressive. I don't mean to be, and again, lack of sleep may affect my tone. I'll maybe edit this after I sleep to sound nicer. Who knows.

Let's get started.

Introjection, as defined by the APA (American Psychological Association), is "a process in which an individual unconsciously incorporates aspects of external reality into the self, particularly the attitudes, values, and qualities of another person or a part of another person's personality."

Introjection is something every single human on this planet will do, even outside of dissociation. Cultural values are a good example. If you primarily grow up in a Latin American household, you may introject traditional family values, the same values your parents may display. The same goes for any culture and their own values. This occurs with fictional characters as well. Ever watch a TV show and you suddenly start using your favorite character's vocabulary? That's also introjection.

In dissociative patients, particularly those with a complex dissociative disorder, introjection is commonly found with abuser introjects. These introjects often take the form of persecutors. Here's a screen grab from The Haunted Self:

"Without the ability to mentalize perpetrators, to create symbolic representations, children may "take in," introject, the "bad" object of the perpetrators. Thus, as EPs they claim they are the abuser, and not the abused, and have the affects and behaviors of a perpetrator to varying degrees."

These introjects serve as coping mechanisms, as do all alters within a dissociative system. With these particular alters, the brain creates them to build a barrier between it and the abuse. An internal thought process may be, "if I commit violence against myself, then I'm not really being hurt because I'm doing it by choice." Various thought processes similar to the one I just outlined are used as justification for the internal abuse. Children direct blame towards themselves rather than the perpetrators because they're often told the fault of the abuse belongs to them by their abusers or even by others. To protect the child, persecutory abuser introjects may form to direct the abuse inwards as a way to make sure they're "actually at fault." Introjects are largely used to cover up an internal struggle or trauma within the self.

Fictional introjects are no exception. The thought process for introjecting a fictional character may be, "if I am [character], then the abuse never *actually* happened to *me.*" The brain may see a character that has gone through something similar to the body and grab onto said character as a defense mechanism for denial. This has been documented, however my hazy memory and 26 hours of no sleep is not a good way to hunt down the sources for this. This segment may be edited when I get some sleep.

Taking all of this into consideration, stating and believing that you are literally a fictional character feeds into the denial loop the traumatized brain has created. Denial is never a good ingredient for recovery. Recovery begins by facing what has happened to you and healing from it. Hiding behind denial prevents this process from happening. It prevents integration (the lowering of dissociative barriers), communication, and teamwork from occurring within the system, all of which are needed for healing. Hiding behind what is essentially a lie created by your brain does not help you, nor does it help your alters beside you.

I do understand that not everyone is ready to face the denial and challenege it, and thus saying/believing that you are literally a fictional character is what is keeping you alive at the moment, but the line has to be drawn when you start encouraging others to feed into the denial loop as well. Healing is done on one's own time, and spreading anti-recovery rhetoric removes that autonomy from others. I could visually see that spread in the reblogs.

That spread is the problem I had with the initial post. I never had a problem with the post being about introjection itself. My problem is that it is encouraging others to stunt their recovery when they may otherwise be ready.

Seeing posts similar to that initial post tends to prevent the process of looking inwards and figuring out what is needed in the individual. It encourages the process of looking outwards and only applying what is deemed "acceptable" within the community to oneself. I know that I personally only began to see myself and what I needed when I moved away from the community and stopped seeing anti-recovery posts. I'm sure I'm not alone in that regard.

@certified-silly-guy Here's that post! I don't have the energy to do back and forth reblog replies, so please DM if you have any questions.

[cocogum]

I found an odd scene in the Great Wave. (FIXED)

A few months ago, I was rereading chapter 7 of the Great Wave when I came across the scene where Amalia confronts Aurora and her father.

At first, nothing seemed to be amiss.

But as I kept looking at the panels more closely and squinted my eyes a bit, there was something off about one specific moment.

I was so confused that I even had to point the scene out to someone else just to make sure I wasn't seeing things.

And surely enough, @geekgirles also thought it was odd.

The scene we were talking about was this one:

Just as Amalia was threatening the royal osamodas, the king clearly looked a bit intimidated by her and is even seen backing away a bit as he raises an arm protectively for Aurora.

While his behavior made sense given how he had wrongly been accused of having poisoned Yugo, the same couldn't be said for his daughter.

Because unlike the king, who was worried, Aurora didn't look like that at all.

She was smiling.

I even compared the digital version and the physical copy just to see if one of them would look different than the other.

But surely enough, both scenes equally show her smiling.

*The first image is the physical copy and the second image is the digital version*

It is less obvious when we see it in the digital version due to all the pixels but the physical copy clearly shows it better.

I've literally never heard anyone else mention this before but now that you see it, you can't unsee it.

There can be no real explanation as to why she'd be smiling here. @geekgirles proposed that this could either be a nervous smile or just Aurora's delusional self thinking she has a shot against Amalia at all, but no matter how anyone could try to explain the reasoning, we all should agree that this panel doesn't look right.

No matter the circumstances, she should not be smiling here when she hadn't been smiling a second ago. She looked shocked when Amalia came straight at them, and now she's suddenly smiling???

Just strictly pay attention to only Aurora's facial expressions throughout the beginning and end of Amalia's confrontation with them.

She's shown in this entire scene to look shocked and offended. But the second Amalia screams at them, she automatically smiles???

It's extremely unnerving.

Not only does that smile randomly appear for like a second, but as soon as the chapter ends and the 8th chapter begins, Aurora's facial expression is seen back to normal once again. As if that off-putting smile never even existed.

Like....honey what.

What was up with that smile we saw a second ago?

How has it not been addressed or mentioned? You never see this out-of-place smile ever again.

Either this has intentionally been sprinkled in to make Aurora look even stranger, or this was simply an error.

If this was all mistake, then it's a weird one.

*for those who have the physical copy, go to the chapter and see her smile for yourself. it's literally there in plain sight*

EDIT: Omg turns out it WAS a mistake! Cathiane (the illustrator for the Great Wave) recently explained to me how it was due to the screentone. Since her face was really tiny in that panel, the original line art had been altered by the screentone points.

So before the alteration, she was supposed to look like this:

Now that makes so much more sense lol 😅

[brazenautomaton]

1: No I'm not.

2-3: So your theory is that he has a psychological compulsion to send coded messages that confirm how evil he is and taunt you about how powerful he is? The reason I keep bringing that up is because this is what conspiracy theorists believe. Straight up. Core, load-bearing pillar of qanon, of Christian Dominionists, of fucking David Icke lizard people. All of them, all of them, say exactly the same thing as you with exactly the same confidence as you for exactly the same reasons as you. They believe that their enemies have to send coded messages to confirm how evil they are, and do so to taunt the Good people with how powerful they are.

And it is wrong every single time. Every single time without one single exception. You need extraordinary evidence to say the same things as the people who are always wrong and be believed. "It looks obvious to me," "I really hate him," and "I know his politics are Bad" are not extraordinary evidence. All of these conspiracy people can say exactly the same thing. We can see why they say it, we can see the psychological need this claim is fulfilling, and we can see that it fills the same need for you.

You need to be able to overcome the insurmountable hurdle that all of these theories cannot overcome: explaining why the fuck someone would do that. Why would Proctor and Gamble put "666" in their logo to show they love Satan? Why would Obama do a "terrorist fist jab?" Why would They use "predictive programming" to broadcast everything they plan to do in the form of movies and TV? Why would the Satanist conspiracy lay out the Georgia Guidestones revealing all of their plans in coded messages instead of just doing them? Why would They do any of the dozens of things Alex Jones has claimed were coded messages and admissions meant to taunt his listeners? I can't break down every single one of those claims because there's too many, but I can say the same thing for all of them "All of these have been wrong every time so far and there's no fucking reason to do them."

4: "This minor movement/this minor symbol is a coded message to indicate how evil they are!" has a long and storied history in American politics. It has a long and storied history in conspiracy theory. It is literally never true. The entire worldview that comes up with it is incorrect. Do you think it is different when you and your friends do it? Or do you think that while accusations of revealing evil intent with coded messages are a constant in history, it doesn't count because they weren't specifically accused of being Nazis? Because both of those things are obviously wrong.

Right now, Google results for specific claims about Hitler salutes are too clogged with recent events to get anything useful, so if you want to be paint-peelingly dishonest I suppose you can pretend that nobody would ever stoop so low as to claim a gesture was the Nazi salute. And ignoring all of the right-wing things since you can claim that right wingers are wrong and dumb and you're right and smart, do you remember when the Department of Homeland Security released a statistic that 13 out of every 88 asylum claims that pass the "credible fear" screening result in asylum being granted, in a message that had 14 paragraphs, and had the phrase "we must secure" in it, and everyone was certain it was clearly a Nazi dogwhistle, a coded message so obvious that it barely even counted as code, meant to embolden Nazis and taunt the rest of us with how powerful they were, because there was no other explanation for why they would use the number 88 unless they were trying to evoke "heil hitler?" And then it turned out they used the number 88 because they were condensing from a full statistic that said "Out of every 100 claims of asylum in which the credible fear standard is relevant, 88 of them will pass the credible fear screening; of those 88, 13 of them result in asylum being granted," and "we must secure the border" is a phrase politicians on both sides use constantly that everyone forgot about when it came time to accuse people of being Nazis?

Remember how Trump's "Make America Great Again" slogan was coded language for "get rid of all the nonwhites" and "America First" was coded language indicating that he loved and would empower Nazis, and hating "political correctness" was code for hating and wanting to kill minorities, and the dozens of times Trump went "mask off" and was "openly white supremacist" and "openly appealing to the KKK?" And all of this was in his 2016 campaign, after which absolutely none of the predictions about him loving and empowering Nazis came even a little bit true? Do you remember basically anything outlined in Scott Alexander's "You Are Still Crying Wolf" post? There are a loooooooooooot of examples. The complete lack of any of the predicted consequences of an "openly white supremacist" candidate taking office completely invalidates all these claims, you do not get to say "well he was openly racist and openly white supremacist and loved Nazis he just decided to wait 4 years to be open about it."

Fuck, are you familiar with the concept of "dogwhistles" and the staggering rate at which the concept is used to just make shit up about what your enemies believe? Every dogwhistle is a coded message about how bad and evil you are!

Every single person who has ever claimed "This gesture or symbol was a coded message revealing how evil and powerful this guy was!" has been wrong.

Every single person who has ever claimed "This gesture or symbol was a coded message revealing how evil and powerful this guy was, look at it, it's so obvious it barely counts as being coded!" has been wrong.

Every single person who has ever claimed "This gesture or symbol was a coded message revealing how evil and powerful this guy was, we know that because the person who sent the coded message is really awful and evil!" has been wrong.

All of them. It is a statement that has never been true. It is a statement based in a model of the world that is not true. It is a statement based in a logic that cannot be true. You need more than hatred for Musk and contempt for me to overcome that.

what’s with you and the Elon thing?

if anyone did that gesture in basically any scenario it’d be seen as questionable at best. I don’t think he’s necessarily a crypto-nazi, but I do think it was an intentional statement of edgelord-ism to rile people up

Why are you going to bat for this guy? It can’t just be contrarianism, you seem genuinely passionate.

personally, I’m no friend of the SJ people, but I don’t think they’re crying wolf this time. Im not sure how to prove my truthfulness, but I was strongly against eg: 2020 BLM, defund the police, Daniel Penny arrest, and so on.

it is more important to believe things that are true than it is to believe things that are mean, even if they are mean about someone you don't like

any situation in which a large group of people are belligerently declaring "How dare you say we should believe things that are true instead of things that are mean! Anyone who cares about anything other than believing things that are mean is despicable and should be destroyed!" is a bad one

people are aggressively, openly, proudly throwing away all capacity for reason, and winning because they are inherently entitled to win for doing that. this makes me sad.

[slptkkn]

hate to be that guy but my first official tumblr post is unfortunately going to be a ghoap oneshot i can’t bring myself to finish

mdni obviously

1.5k words

small cw for pup being used as a petname, that’s all

It wasn’t fair at all. His thoughts weren’t fair, feelings just aren’t fair.

Why was he touching himself thinking about his lieutenants hands all over him?

It was a singular time, he had to be shown how to correct his stance.. but god, he can still remember how warm Ghost’s hands were. He desperately needs those hands elsewhere, but he just cannot physically bring himself to tell Ghost- why would he? For all he knows, Ghost is straight. Probably has a lovely lady waiting for him back in Birmingham.

That brought a wave of shame crashing over Soap almost instantly. He was curled up beneath his blankets palming himself to a man who most definitely wants nothing to do with him in that way. Plus, whoever he had at home must surely be doing the same thing. How could they not? Ghost was an amazing man, amazing lieutenant. Literally everything anyone could ask for, save for the wall that he constantly seems to have up.

Never letting anybody in, always by himself if not with the rest of the 141 for work purposes.

Maybe he didn’t have someone at home?

“Fuck,” Soap hissed, heat coiling tight in his gut. He was so deprived, it didn’t take him long to reach this point. It’d be embarrassing if he were with anybody.

Soap bites the back of his hand as he releases a whimper, spilling onto his stomach with a shaky exhale.

It took a minute for him to come down, and that’s when all of the embarrassment hit him like a ton of bricks. He really just got off on fantasies and the lingering warmth of Ghost’s hands.

Un-fucking-believable.

While in the shower, a wave of warmth washed over him and he was brought back to how Ghost’s chest felt against him as he gave instruction. The vibration of his voice in his chest was almost enough to force Soap to drop every ounce of control and beg Ghost to have him, even if just for one night.

Idly, he wonders if Ghost would be into one night stands. He most certainly doesn’t seem like the type. That thought crushes Soap’s hope that maybe, just maybe he had a chance.. but Ghost wasn’t even gay. So why hope?

Days went by after that, and Soap purposefully kept himself away from Ghost unless proven absolutely necessary. And that was an extremely difficult task. Not only did he want to be near Ghost, it seemed like Ghost always needed him for something. Most times the things were extremely mundane, things that Ghost could’ve easily done himself.

Overseeing training? Easy, he could’ve done it. Plus, it’s his job. Ghost is supposed to be doing it. But for whatever reason, Ghost needed him there anyways- not that Soap’s complaining, of course. Well, not too much.

It’s a pain in the ass to need to excuse himself after Ghost touches him, though. He’s never been one for praying, but he’s had one too many close calls so far, and he’s praying Ghost didn’t hear him this most recent time.

“Soap, c’mere, yeah?” Ghost calls from down the hall.

They’d just finished a session, and Soap really, really needed to go relieve himself. If he turned around and faced Ghost, he’d have to explain why he had a raging, leaking boner after rolling around with his sweaty superior.

“Ah.. LT, got something I gotta go do,” Soap replies nervously, only half turning. “We can catch up later, yeah?”

That reply was very obviously not something Ghost was expecting. The man let out a huff and began closing the distance between them.

Soap began to panic. He would not have a good explanation for any of this. Regardless, he sucked in a breath and turned around, ready to sputter and come up with anything that would remotely suffice for an excuse, but before he could even get a word past his lips, Ghost was on him.

His back was slammed against the wall and Ghost’s large, rough hand was grabbing his face.

“Now, what if it was somethin’ important, mm?” He breathed, his eyes roaming Soap’s face with an unreadable expression due to the mask. Soap couldn’t open his mouth to protest even if he wanted to. “Would you have still snuck off to wank if it was important?”

His eyes widened. He was caught- but he wasn’t obvious… was he? Unfair.

Ghost used his free hand and pulled his mask up above his nose. He’s smirking, the fucker.

“Anything to say for yourself, MacTavish?” he asks lowly.

All Soap can do is shake his head as a furious blush creeps up onto his face. He has nothing he really can say. Ghost caught him, and there’s no telling how long he’s known. Has he been acting on purpose?

Slowly, but definitely not gently, Ghost releases Soap’s face and lets his eyes shamelessly run down to the tent in his shorts. Absolutely nothing could’ve ever prepared him for Ghost to immediately stick his hand past the waistband of his shorts and boxers.

“Ghost- What’re ye doin’?!” Soap hissed, but every ounce of protest left him the instant Ghost’s warm hand made contact with his aching cock.

“Doing what you want- you didn’t think I heard you earlier? You sweet little thing.” Ghost practically purred as his unoccupied hand pressed against Soap’s chest. “Think I could pull louder sounds from you, hm?”

Soap almost collapsed dead from both embarrassment and arousal. Ghost had heard him jerk off in the bathroom earlier that day, and he’s still so deprived that he’s right on track to cum right in the mans hand. He hadn’t thought that Ghost would follow him after he left the gym, but he’s sort of glad he did.

“Aye, think you could pull a lotta sounds out of me, sir,” Soap responds, his voice low and shaky as he rolls into Ghost’s palm. He has to hold back a groan of pure relief, he’d been dreaming of Ghost touching him this way for way longer than he’d like to admit, and this was pure heaven.

Ghost smirks. “Let’s see, then.”

Without much warning, Ghost removed his hand and grabbed Soap, pulling him down the hallway and into his quarters. He quite genuinely didn’t give Soap enough time to catch his breath before he was on him, shoving him backwards onto the bed.

“Ghost.. Ghost, stop,” Soap pants, pushing the lieutenant back. So many thoughts began to run ramped through his head, but one stuck out.

Ghost gave him a questioning look, and he swallowed before speaking again. “You, er… you never expressed anything for me so this… this is new- not that I don’t want it-!”

“I never thought you were gay, MacTavish. But you also aren’t exactly subtle,” Ghost chuckles as he leans over Soap. “Askin’ me to spar, then runnin’ off like a chicken without a head. Thought I wouldn’t piece things together?”

Soap swallows, completely covered by the bigger male. “I planned on tellin’ ye.. I did.”

Ghost tuts. “I doubt it, MacTavish.”

Immediately, he pulls his mask off and slams his lips into Soap’s. A shameful groan crawls its way out of Soap’s throat and his arms snake around Ghost’s neck.

This serves as invitation for Ghost to spread Soap’s legs and push himself between them, and by god, does it feel absolutely amazing. Soap has to fight every urge he has to not rut against him like the horny dog that he is.

Ghost breaks first for air, but immediately shoves his hands beneath Soap’s shirt and pulls it off of him, revealing scarred but toned skin. His eyes hungrily roam the mans torso, and the look on Ghost’s face… Soap would kill to see it all the time. He looks like a man starved. Was he just as deprived as he was?

“Johnny,” he practically growls as he begins his assault on Soap’s neck. “Need you- have needed you. You know how bad I’ve wanted to just pin you down and fuck you stupid?”

Those words send a jolt of heat straight down Soap’s spine. He’s been wanting him too? All this time, and Soap could’ve been taken care of if he wasn’t such a pussy.

“You want me, Johnny?” Ghost asks, his voice a low murmur.

Of-fucking-course he does.

“Aye,” he replies, nodding. “Been wantin’ you for a long time.”

“Too shy? That’s alright..” Ghost says as he pushes himself up, ridding himself of his own shirt. “Turn your brain off ‘n let me, ‘kay?”

Soap nods eagerly, all he wants is to let Ghost use him in any way he wants. And he does exactly what Ghost asked of him. His brain was off the entire time they’d made out, but instinctively back on once he registered Ghost’s index finger pressing into his hole.

A sharp whine leaves him and he arches up. “Simon,” he pants.

“There he is,” Ghost chuckles as his middle finger pushes in. That pulls a shameful whimper from Soap’s mouth. “So tight.. lookit you.”

Ghost curls his fingers and brushes against that sweet spot that makes Soap release a garbled whine.

A smile crosses his face and he scissors his fingers, pulling a broken whine out of Soap. “Please, Simon… I- I want… I-“

“What do you want, pup?” Simon murmurs, leaning down to press kisses along Soap’s spine.

The petname sets his nerves on fire and he lets out a shaky breath. “I want you, need you. Please?”

“Love when you beg, pup,” Simon purrs. “I got you.”

[go-go-gadget-autism]

”Shh, hey, it’s okay… Men ain’t shit, babe..” Your best friend stroked your hair as you recounted the shattering events of that afternoon for what felt like the hundredth time.

Megumi Fushiguro, the man you trusted the most, and your beloved boyfriend, had just broken up with you.

”…what?”

The silence was crushing, words you’d hoped your boyfriend would never say reverberating against the walls.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. I can’t have these distractions. I need to focus on missions and training, and I don’t need anybody getting in the way of that.”

Distractions. That’s what Megumi called it, so that’s what you believed. While he was never necessarily open with his feelings, he was blunt, saying what he meant. So when the syllables left his lips like a sharp cut to your chest, of course you immediately thought it was true.

But of course, to Megumi, it wasn’t. He knew the dangers of being a sorcerer. If someone like Mahito were to figure out he was with you, you’d have a big fat target on your back, prone to being kidnapped or worse. All just to get to him. He cared about you, of course he did. He cared about you more than he cared about himself, even. And that’s why it was so hard.

“Gumi, come on, we can work this ou-“

“No.”

The silence after that stung even harder, if possible. His tone was so firm, his answers so concise. Looking into his eyes, it was clear Megumi had already made up his mind. No longer was the soft, caring man you had spent your time alongside. His gaze, once amused and captivated by the sight of you trying to lick ice cream stuck on your nose, had turned cold. Reserved and barred off.

You take a step forward, your own eyes pleading for just an inch of understanding. “Megumi… please. You can’t just cut me out, not out of the blue, not like this.”

He shifted, now facing the bag he was packing. He bad turned his back to you, on you.

“No, you absolutely can NOT just- just leave like this! Megs- you know what? No, no. Fushiguro, you are going to give me an explanation, a- a- i don’t know, anything! I’ve stayed beside you all of this time, and for what? I was a- a distraction? really, thats what all of this was?” You let out a shaky laugh, whether from anxiety, denial, or straight insanity at this point was unclear.

He remained wordless as he slung the bag over his shoulder and turned to you, that infuriatingly blank expression feeling like an arrow jusy adding insult to injury. After all of this, he still didn’t care? You, standing there in the doorway, pleading for any hint of cooperation, being met with nothing. A brick wall.

“It had to be this way, Y/N.”

And there you were, standing abandoned in this room that held so many memories. Everything was now void as your stomach twisted and turned, trying to even comprehend the situation that happened so fast it made you question if it was even real.

But after so many attempts of trying to pinch yourself awake, you were forced to admit that you had been left alone by the man you had devoted your everything to.

[inawickedlittletown]

We've Got A Long Way To Go (BuckTommy) 5/?

Summary: A few months after the break up, Buck picks up a call that changes everything. Tommy has his own regrets, and an unexpected meeting and a change in Buck's life will bring them together. Fix-it fic. Words: 2.8k Read on Ao3 Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

-

Chapter Five

Lucas slept. Tommy didn’t. He pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable. This was not how he thought his day would go and yet he wasn’t mad about it. He felt sad for Lucas, worried about Evan among so many other things. Looking at Lucas it would be hard to deny that Evan was his father. His hair was blond, but it might darken with age, and it was more wavy than curly. He didn’t have Evan’s nose, but he had the shape of his lips and eyes. Even the roundness of his face was similar to Evan’s. 

He hoped that Lucas’ age would make him more resilient to losing his parents, but there was no denying that it would still come with some difficulties. Evan would navigate that well, though, of that Tommy was sure. He could tell that Evan already loved Lucas, had probably loved him from the moment he was born. 

Tommy couldn’t really imagine what it had been like for Evan to help his friends get pregnant and then wind up having to assist in the birth. How painful it must have felt to realize that despite biology, the baby was not his. Had he had anyone to turn to when all of that happened? The 118 was close knit enough that actually, he had probably had them. 

One of the nurses entered, offering him a smile as she checked over Lucas. She didn’t say anything before leaving and Tommy just sighed and pulled out his phone. 

Evan had texted earlier and considering Tommy hadn’t deleted their text thread, it felt like a punch to the gut to see the big gap in time between their last texts. 

He’d done this. 

That night, he didn’t remember much about leaving Evan’s loft in part because of how his eyes were clouded by tears, but because his mind had been spinning and trying to figure out what had just happened. He sat in his car for so long afterwards and then drove straight to a liquor store. 

Tommy didn’t go to work for two days. He barely moved from his couch. He drank and cried and drank some more. Didn’t think he was in any state to talk to anyone, especially not Evan. Not that anyone reached out. Tommy knew that if he told Lucy or Melton they would show up, but he didn’t want that. He hardly expected Eddie to contact him, but a part of him had wondered if he would.

He told Lucy almost a week later, dropped it in the middle of a conversation. She punched his shoulder. 

“What did you do?” She asked immediately. 

“Do?” 

“I know Buck. This was not him, he wouldn’t break up with you.” 

Lucy was a little scary and she crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. 

“Maybe not now, but eventually,” Tommy said. 

That garnered him another punch. “What the fuck does that even mean, Tommy?” She asked. 

Tommy had shrugged and pointed at himself. “I’m not the person that anyone sticks it out with and Buck would have figured that out eventually. He already — he already was, he just didn’t realize it.” 

Lucy kept looking at him with a bemused expression and Tommy had been sitting in a soup of his own emotions for a week and he was starting to boil over the top and as much as he would have preferred to keep a lid on it, the words wanted to come out. His logic. His explanation. His reality. 

“Six months,” he said to Lucy, “and do you know how many nights I went to bed and he stayed up doing research on everything under the sun? The randomest things and then over breakfast he would tell me the things he read and somehow the exhaustion would wash off of him even though we both knew he didn’t get enough sleep.” 

“The point?” 

“He never even bothered to look up the kinsey scale,” Tommy said. “I never realized he never even said he was bisexual outloud and—”

“Maybe he isn’t,” Lucy threw out. “Pansexuality is a thing and some people like the umbrella that Queer covers. A label isn’t everything, Tommy.” 

“No, no, I know it’s not. He just doesn’t even know enough to say that he doesn’t want one. He just…Ev-Buck hasn’t looked into any of it. It was so damn easy for him. I kissed him and we’re on a date and maybe it doesn’t go well but I give it a second chance. He tells his best friend and his sister about us and it’s all just great. Accepted from the start. Doesn’t hide it from anyone, but also doesn’t tell anyone directly. Not even his parents. And I’m not saying that it should be hard or that his experience isn’t valid, I’m just saying that at no point did he put any work into figuring out what this means and then he asked me if I’d ever been with a woman.” 

Tommy let out a groan. He should have shared more about his past with Evan, that was on him. Tommy definitely knew that was on him. It was just that the single time they’d talked about Tommy’s experience had been right at the start and they just never went back to that conversation. Even when Gerrard was back at the 118, it just didn’t come up. Tommy hadn’t wanted to think back to who he was back then and maybe he hadn’t wanted to give Evan any reason to dislike him by sharing that. 

“He asked if you, a gay man, had been with a woman?” Lucy asked. “I mean, have you?” 

Tommy laughed. “Actually yes. I think it all sort of began there, but I didn’t know why until days later. Turns out we dated the same woman.” 

“What?” 

Tommy dropped his head. “Abby Clark. I almost married her. I was so deep in the closet and I lied to her and led her on and broke her heart. Evan picked it up, I guess. He loved her. When he told me it just brought all of it back…the way that I just didn’t care about how everything I did was hurting everyone around me and I thought oh Evan is going to see that now, how horrible I was.” 

“But that’s not what he did,” Lucy said.

That was the thing, it would have been better if Evan recognized that. Instead, he just barreled into something about admiring Tommy and about giving him credit when absolutely none was due to him. Tommy hadn’t been one of the brave men and women that made it better for everyone, he’d been the opposite. For Evan to just ignore the reality and then ask him to move in? The red flags had gone up at once and Tommy didn’t do well in that type of situation. It was their first date all over again. 

“He asked me to move in,” Tommy said. “But not before telling me he admired me for paving the way when what I was doing in those days was adding more brick and concrete to my closet.” 

“Oh, Tommy,” Lucy said and she hugged him. “He’s misguided and maybe there’s a lot for the two of you to talk about, but breaking up isn’t—”

“I can’t be his gay yoda, Lucy. I don’t deserve that, especially when at the end I’ll be left with my heartbroken and he’ll find the guy or girl that will wind up being his future. I can’t.” 

Lucy didn’t ask anything else. She didn’t push him to talk to Evan even if she probably did still think he should. The first few weeks passed in a bit of a haze. Tommy kept himself busy. He finally cleaned and reorganized his tools in the garage. He rearranged his bookshelf. He fixed the broken shelf in the bathroom. He refused to collect any of Evan’s things — few as they were — leaving them where Evan had left them. 

They had admittedly not spent a lot of time at Tommy’s house. Tommy didn’t really know why, he just knew that in six months, they had cooked and had dinner at Tommy’s house maybe twice. Once he had tried to teach Evan muay thai and that had ended with both of them in his bed very very sweaty and sated. But when they went on dates he almost always went over to pick Evan up at the loft and then they would return there, too. It wasn’t that he disliked the loft. It was actually a great apartment and everything about it screamed Evan. It was still silly to think of him moving in there and the space not being cramped. 

Evan had definitely not been thinking when he asked. How different could it all have gone if Evan wasn’t going a mile a minute and if he had taken the time to think more than a few things through. 

Thinking of the loft made him wonder how Evan was going to go about living arrangements. Lucas could probably be alright in the loft for a while, but he would eventually need space of his own. And then there were the stairs to consider too. At the very least, he was going to need a baby gate and so much other baby proofing. As much as he wanted to offer to help him with it, he didn’t quite know what his place was anymore. 

Tommy was barely a friend. An ex. Aside from Abby, the only other exes of Evan’s that he knew of were Taylor and Natalia. Natalia because she’d been his last girlfriend and Taylor because she was Taylor Kelly and if you were a first responder in LA you knew Taylor Kelly. Evan seemed to have no contact with any of them and maybe that was on them and not Evan, but it was happenstance that Tommy had run into Evan and even found out anything to do with Lucas. 

If that didn’t happen then Tommy might never have found out that Evan was a father. It hurt to think about that, the complete cut off he’d had from Evan. One he’d created and that three months later seemed stupid. Couldn’t they have worked things out? Because before the Abby thing and before Evan jumped the gun on moving in, things had been going well. Really well. So well that Tommy still felt the hurt and still longed desperately for Evan. 

On the bed, Lucas shifted. The cast seemed to be in the way and Tommy wasn’t surprised when he woke up, smacking his lips together and blinking. His cheeks were a ruddy pink and he grasped at his teddy bear. 

“Hi,” Tommy said. “How do you feel?” 

Lucas tried to rub at his eyes, but only one of his hands was available. 

“Where mama?” 

“She’s not here,” Tommy said. “I’m sorry.” 

Lucas’ lip quivered. 

“But, I am,” Tommy said. “My name’s Tommy. I’m a friend and I am so glad that you’re okay. And a nurse is going to come in any minute now to give you a check over. Do you need anything?” 

How many words could toddlers actually understand or speak for themselves? Tommy had no clue. He was glad when a nurse walked in. 

“Just woke up,” Tommy said. 

She made quick work of checking him over and then took him to the bathroom when it was clear that his diaper needed changing. Tommy hadn’t even thought about if Lucas was wearing a diaper, but he supposed that made sense. They came back a few moments later, Lucas walking with the nurse though he looked a little warily at Tommy. 

“I’m going to go fetch him some food,” the nurse said. “Maybe a variety of a few different things just in case he doesn’t want a bottle again. Do you need help getting him back in the bed?” 

“No. I got it,” Tommy said. “Thanks.” 

Except, he kind of didn’t have it. He was a stranger to Lucas and he knew how big he was which had to be intimidating to a kid like Lucas. The last interaction he’d had with any kid was Jee-Yun and she was a little older and Evan had been there the whole time. 

“Lucas, you want to come back on the bed?” 

He nodded. 

“Can I pick you up?” 

Lucas looked a little worried, but he nodded and then Tommy saw that his eyes kept flitting to the teddy bear. 

“Your teddy is waiting for you. I bet he misses you.” 

Lucas lifted his arms and Tommy was quick to pick him up. He weighed next to nothing and he instinctively allowed Tommy to bring him close. When the nurse picked him up she’d done it perfunctory, a quick up and then swiftly to the bathroom. She hadn’t carried him back. The way that he leaned into Tommy and how his fist grabbed onto Tommy’s shirt was…well, when was the last time Lucas had been held? 

So, Tommy held him. He rubbed his back. He hummed a little.

“You know,” Tommy said, “things are changing. You were in an accident. It’s why your arm is in a cast. But, change isn’t a bad thing, alright? Your — Evan, is going to do his best. He cares so much and I know he already loves you.” 

Lucas didn’t say anything. Tommy didn’t even know how much he understood. 

When the nurse returned with a tray she smiled at him. “You’re sweet with him,” she said. “But, let’s get him back in the bed to get some food.” 

She had brought an arrangement of things. Cereal, apple sauce, baby food, a small bowl of fruit, and even a bottle of formula.

“Not sure what he’ll gravitate towards,” the nurse explained. “Figured we’d see what he wants.” 

Tommy settled Lucas back in the bed. Lucas didn’t fight him on it and then the nurse helped to prop up the bed and also get it situated so that she could put the tray down where Lucas could reach. 

“Hungry, sweetie?” she asked. “You can have anything you want. Do you want a bottle? Or maybe some fruit?”

Lucas didn’t say or reach for anything. Tommy realized at once that it was the cast. It was on his right arm and maybe he was used to grabbing things with his right hand? Did kids at that age already know which hand was dominant? Tommy had no clue. 

“I can help him,” Tommy said. “I’m sure you have other things to do.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind spending any more time with him.” 

“I’ll call if I need help,” Tommy said. “I think I can manage feeding him. Hey, Lucas, it’s food time. Are you hungry? Do you mind if I help you?” 

Tommy went for the baby food, grabbing the tiny spoon and using it to mix before bringing the spoon out and towards Lucas who actually opened his mouth. He must have been hungry because he gave Tommy no trouble and ate the whole thing without making too much mess, though Tommy did have to wipe his chin from time to time and some of the food did get on Lucas’ clothes. Tommy figured as nice an idea as fruit and cereal were, Lucas probably wanted the comfort of a bottle. 

It was barely warm, but Lucas seemed eager for it, so Tommy held the bottle to his lips. His hands tried to grab at it and he managed with the left, but not the right. So, Tommy held on just in case. Watching Lucas gave him a small sense of peace. This boy deserved the world especially as he had recently lost what had made up of the world he’d understood up to this point. 

The nurse returned to check on them just as Lucas finished the formula. He blinked at Tommy sleepily as he took away the bottle. 

“He had the baby food and the formula,” Tommy informed her. “Looks like he’s falling back asleep.” 

“Not a bad thing,” she said. “He went through a lot yesterday. His body is still trying to recuperate. He seems to be getting along with you though, that’s good. We never really know how kids will react when they lose their parents.”

Tommy hadn’t thought about it, but it was a wonder how Lucas hadn’t fought them or cried or made any kind of fuss. That might come later.  

Tommy settled back down in the chair. He watched Lucas for a while, but then he fished his phone out and started to do a bit of research, not that he knew if he’d ever get to use any of what he learned. Evan had so many people in his corner, there was no way he’d need Tommy too.

[shadesofmauve]

Version 2*!

*In the process of doing this write-up I figured out where two more unplaced clusters should go, so it's really almost v3.

Blue systems and blue dashed routes are hypothetical. I made Cluster 486 out of whole cloth for fic reasons.

More explanation of changes below.

Deleted routes

I removed these connections:

Annos Basin - Exodus

Arcturus - Serpent

Arcturus - Horsehead

Arcturus - Petra

We know Arcturus has four relays (Sol and three others); we know that humanity settled the Exodus cluster first, and ran into the turians before settling Petra; we know that at least one of the relays from Arcturus leads to 'contested space'.

Added links for batarians

The batarians didn't have access to Exodus until after humans opened the relay. Setting aside the question of why, I added hypothetical relay connections that could explain where they went instead: the Nubian Expanse by way of the Armstrong Nebula. Pragia (Nubian Expanse) is a Batarian planet. From there they'd make their away through the Terminus systems, encountering council races and connecting to the Citadel the long way around. That fits with their activity in the Terminus, and keeps them occupied so that they haven't already fully settled the Skyllian Verge when humanity appears.

The link could go straight there, but the Armstrong Nebula has too many entries about military remnants for a dead-end, basically uninhabitable cluster, so I like giving it more routes.

Additions in and near Council Space

I added the hanar home cluster and connections based on @crapeaucrapeau's gleaning from canon, and a link from Aethon to give the Volus a route for encountering the Asari before the turians.

More speculatively, I placed new clusters containing the turian world Taetrus and the human colony Shanxi. I based this on the history of the First Contact War and the path of the reaper invasion. The colony shanxi must be in a gateway system that connects to an area turians patrol, and it likely connects to either Exodus or Arcturus. (I decided on Exodus.) The reapers invaded Taetrus before Palaven, and unless they swung by the Serpent Nebula en masse, thumbing their mechasquid noses and making fart noises at the Citadel as they went by, they must've had another route between human and turian space.

Reaper invasion route (main force):

General note

Every time I get new info I scoot things around a bit, so don't try to overlay the two maps. In this version I shifted some stuff closer to where people expect it, and tweaked region borders based on the galaxy-at-war map. As always, I adjust cluster position to make labels and routes clearer, because connections are more important than absolute location.

Mass Effect galaxy map

(For the Rhi Shepard universe)

I've been writing, if by 'writing' one means 'making a new galaxy map to use as a reference, because I'm too picky.'

I copied some symbology from Droot1986's excellent galaxy map. I also used Engorn's map as a reference, but ultimately the clusters and connections are based on the wiki. All systems within a cluster are listed, with inhabited planets in parentheses.

(...yeah, I should probably make a legend, but I only made it for my reference, so).

Features/changes

The relay in the Sol system only connects to Arcturus. This is how it's supposed to work in canon lore; Arcturus is important because it's a gateway system, while Sol is a dead end.

(Also, Sol is now in basically the right place compared to the underlying artist's impression of the milky way. Thank you NASA.)

Batarian's now have some space of their own, because lumping all batarian space into the human Systems Alliance was just BEGGING for a war. Like, WTF. Their government is flat out evil but that doesn't mean we just get to say their planets are ours now.

Combined inner and outer council space because idgaf.

There's a new, boringly named relay between Kite's Nest, Petra, and Exodus, because I needed one in chapter 14.

If a cluster had written lore about where it was in the galaxy, I tried to reflect that — so Styx Theta, Hawking Eta, and the Pangea Expanse are all close to the galactic core, Sentry Omega is on a political border, etc. Otherwise, I adjusted location to make the relay routes clearer. (Also I wanted the giant hub that is Omega to be almost opposite the Serpent Nebula and the Citadel)..

I imagine that there are actually a LOT more mapped clusters in Council Space than we see; they were just never relevant to the game. If not, the vaunted 'all relays lead to the Citadel' reaper web is just flat out wrong. Omega has more connections, and quite a few other clusters have as many. If there are more inhabited clusters in Citadel Space it also makes the veritable explosion of humanity look a little less ridiculous. (Seriously, humans have been on the galactic scene for thirty years. LOOK at how far we've gone. Council races are right to be freakin' terrified, the Sol system was like one of those plants with exploding seed pods where you bump it and POOF now they're EVERYWHERE). So let's assume the rest of the galaxy is as cluttered as Systems Alliance space, it's just not been relevant to our anthropocentric bag of dicks worldview.

Anyway. What the fuck is even up with the Attican Traverse?

[wtfisgoingonirl]

Why I stay on the ship a little longer

Nic said ‚just friends‘. Phew, that was unpleasant to hear. But somehow I did not panic. I remain calm. So hopefully does the sea.

Just two days ago I posted, that I probably would gracefully leave the ship at the next stop if there is some confirmation of N or L. Thank god I said probably, bc I won’t. I wanna stay on the ship a little longer.

It’s just too simple. She wouldn’t tell Marcus straight away about her private life, would she?

At the moment, at least for me, it is not enough. Even if it is just an unreasonable feeling. What can I say, I will stay a little longer. Let’s take a deep breath. We have seen so many clues. Nothing is lost.

How do you feel about that statement? Are you able to believe this? 

Said question is asked at 7:40.

To make you feel just a little better, here is a quick reminder, why we got on the ship. This is one of my favorite interviews, bc it was quite telling, watch it till the end and you‘ll see what I mean. It is from late May 2024.

I think Luke gave it away in the beginning by mentioning them as ‚a couple’ while he was confused about a question. Afterwards Nic eagerly tried to override his answer with a long and little too detailed explanation, explicitly mentioning that they are not friends to lovers. So we heard that before, but decide yourselves:

Sorry sweet Nic, I don’t buy it. You cannot sell that after all.

Stay strong. Peace ✌️