#we need to adjust how we think about people. and white people ESPECIALLY need to be making that adjustment.

[luesmainblog]

this also goes for latinos, asians, visibly disabled people, visibly queer people, folks with an audible foreign accents, and petite people. i know that last one doesn't get a lot of attention, but trust me, the amount of sexual harassment cops think they can get away with if you're 5'4" or under is fucking insane.

and yes, i'm aware that's grown the list to "pretty much everybody". that's because while they're worst to blacks, indigenous, and visibly trans folk, the cops are nobody's friend. they can and will harass basically anyone they have even the slightest prejudice again, and how much is common against who can vary by location. and i'm gonna emphasize that Disabled part again, because being white does not save you from being visibly autistic, and i have seen more than once a tragedy befall a young child for disabled behavior. we, as a community, need to watch out for eachother. ALL of eachother. trust the cops with no one, and show the fuck up for anyone who might need it. if we can create a culture where the cops expect to be watched at any public stop, we are gonna save our communities a lot of grief. get used to thinking of everyone you see as a part of your community. black people are part of your town. muslims are part of your town. natives are part of your town. jews, latinos, greeks, autistics, asians, people in wheelchairs, local prostitutes, local drug addicts, the kids who look like they "might be in a gang", every single person you see is a part of YOUR town and YOUR community. they are not outsiders. they are not extras. they are not blights, or problems, or something in the peripheral to otherwise not be thought of. even someone you have a personal god damn grudge against, if there's a cop talking to them, you record that shit. but do not take "everyone" as an excuse to ignore black people; they hold priority. they are a part of everyone, and they are some of the most at risk. SHOW UP.

[dfortrafalgar]

I saw you were accepting requests and I was wondering if you would be okay with writing a Law and kunoichi s/o scenario/drabble/one shot (whatever you like!)? I think it would be so cute seeing him nerd out over her 😌 I love your work! 🫶

hi anon!!! i'm so sorry this took so long! i had a lot of fun writing this though, it's kind of short so i hope you don't mind, it was a fun way to do something a bit more silly and outlandish and have our wonderful nerdy captain be a dork at the same time <3

also, i used this picture as a reference for reader's clothing. i know western media and costumes tend to have a very strange depiction of ninja clothing, but consider the often overlooked history of ninja in general, and especially female ninja, i wanted to make sure that i could depict something such as attire a bit more accurately!!!

Sudden Revelation

Law x Fem Reader

Law didn’t think it was possible to fall more in love with you, until you vanished from his sight.

Warnings: drabble fic, kunoichi/ninja reader, some light depictions of typical shounen action, fluffy ending, worried sick and nerdy law <3

You were never one to stray too far from the pack.  Law knew this, and he loved that about you.  Your tendency to stay glued to either his side or the company of your crew mates meant that he didn’t need to agonize over your safety when on dry land for important missions. After the Heart Pirates split up on an unassuming island to investigate the theorized location of a poneglyph, leaving you to traverse with Penguin and Hakugan, Law expected tonight to be no different.

Until they returned to Law, eyes wide and frantic.  Without you.

“How the hell did you manage to lose her?  We haven’t even been off the ship for over an hour!” Law grumbled, suppressing the primal urge to yell at his crewmen.  Nighttime darkness shrouded the surrounding woods and village like a blanket, and the last thing the pirates needed was an irate captain waking up whatever potential defense force the people on this island had.  Instead, the surgeon’s voice came out of his larynx as a strangled, almost high-pitched groveling.

“We don’t know!” Penguin begged, holding his hands up in front of his face.  “We turned around to ask her something and she was just… gone!”

“I swear we didn’t see her,” Hakugan added.  “She was behind us when she vanished, but we didn’t hear anything.  It was like she just poofed into thin air.”

“Not even rustling or anything?  Just… nothing?” Law asked, his voice riddled with skepticism as his eyebrows furrowed, creasing the skin above his nose.  “How do you expect me to believe that?  She wouldn’t just outright disappear like that.”

“How do we know you didn’t teleport her away?” Penguin asked, his voice snarky.  “For all we know you could’ve snapped your fingers and transported her back to the ship because you were worried.”

Law’s piercing gaze shut down any more retaliation from the older man.  Pinching the bridge of his nose in between his calloused fingers, he grumbled, “You two go join my search team.  I’ll go look for her.”

Without putting up any more of a fight, Penguin and Hakugan booked it past their captain and into the woods where Law’s own small gaggle of Heart Pirates remained secluded in the treeline, watching the debacle unfold.  Law’s fist clenched around Kikoku tighter as he gazed left, then right, then journeyed into the darkness alone to search for you.

The profound worry plaguing him and the frustration at your sudden disappearance fought ruthlessly in his mind as he trudged through the brush.

—

You felt free in your shōzoku, much less constricted compared to your Heart Pirate boiler suit.  While your usual off-white clothing provided ample warmth and comfort while on the submarine, it was clunky and far too revealing when the need to be conspicuous developed.  As you adjusted your obi and shouldered your tantō, you couldn’t help but smile at how easily you slipped away from your crewmates.  But you needed to be fast.  It would only be a matter of time before Law found out you had vanished, and the clock was rapidly ticking.

You knew where the poneglyph was hidden, thanks to the efforts of Straw Hat Nico Robin, whom you had secretly contacted via Den Den Mushi while on your latest watch shift.  You had nothing to prove in going off alone.  Rather, you learned that the underground bunker where the stone was kept was heavily guarded by a squadron of local village folk who, despite their calm and welcoming demeanor in the daytime, were very hostile when the sun set below the horizon.  And you refused to let anything happen to your crew, not when you had the means to do something about it.

You swiftly stepped through the brush, dodging sticks and shrubs as your feet carried you deftly through the darkness, your dyed blue clothing helping you blend in near seamlessly through the inky surroundings.  It was far too dark to view the map you kept folded in your pocket, so you were relying on memory alone to find the entrance to the village bunker.  According to Robin, it was tucked away in between two large stones embedded into a mountainside.  The passageway would be so narrow that you’d need to sideways-shuffle through the opening in order to enter.  But you had no issue with that.

After what felt like hours of searching, squinting your eyes through the darkness to spot anything that looked remotely suspicious, you finally found your landmark.  Two huge boulders hiding a black abyss of an entrance in between their jagged surfaces.  

You just barely stepped forward when a sword unsheathed behind you.

“Don’t move if you know what’s good for you,” an unknown voice called out through the darkness.

It wasn’t anyone you recognized.  Your hair stood on end as your mind reeled for your next action.

“Drop your weapon,” he demanded.

You closed your eyes, honing your senses.  With the way he had revealed his sword, just based on the sound it made, he wasn’t completely prepared to wield it.  It must have been lose in his grip, unsure as to whether or not he should strike or not.  He was surely unsteady on his feet, caught off-guard by your presence.  The confidence in his voice was a ruse, you were certain of it.

With a blinding motion, you pulled your tantō out of its own sheath and whirled around, gripping the handle of your blade firmly in your grasp.  The metal dug into your hand, coarse against your skin and yet so familiar to you, allowing you to land a swift cut to the chest of the unsuspecting village man.  You hadn’t wanted to draw any attention, but you didn’t really have much of a choice.  You had come so far in detecting the location of the poneglyph, you couldn’t just give up now.

Another shallow gash landed on the man’s arm as he staggered backward, his grip on his sword wavering with the shock of your lightning-quick attacks.  He was blindsided as he managed to sidestep another swipe from your short blade, his eyes wide and petrified through the darkness.  The back of his heel landed on a stick, snapping it in half and sending a sharp echo through the surrounding woods making your blood curdle.  Way to draw even more attention.  You flipped your blade in your hand to land another strike–

“ROOM.”

God damn it.

A bright, electric blue light engulfed the area in a bubble, a sensation that you would normally welcome, but now greeted with distaste.  All of your plans had been thoroughly ruined now.  You wondered how long Law had been searching the woods for any sign of life in order to find you.

“AMPUTATE.”

You stepped back just in time for a gust of air to whoosh past you, an indirect strike being landed on the man accosting you and bisecting him at the pelvis.  A shrill scream escaped his lungs as his upper body flopped onto the ground, his entire body frazzled as he gazed at his legs running around independently.  The sight was truly morbid, but you had seen it enough.

“Who the hell are you?!”  Law’s voice was incredibly fierce as he shouted through the darkness, the sound making your heart rate increase nervously.  You were in for it now, he was absolutely talking to you.  “Well?!”

You didn’t have anything fully concealing your face, and while your layers of clothing hid your form, your cover would be blown if you turned around.  You tried to lower your voice as you responded, “I’m not here to bother anyone.”

A long pause followed your words.  Neither of you were acknowledging the bisected stranger off to the side as Law’s room disappeared, leaving the separated torso incapacitated for the time being.

“Then why are you here?  I’m looking for someone,” he demanded.  He sounded as exhausted as he did frustrated, making your chest clench.

You bit the inside of your cheek, digging through your subconscious for a way out of this situation.  You didn’t want Law to see you for what you were.  You hated that you had kept this side of you hidden from him, but it was too important to you to keep your deeper skills hidden from your friends… from your lover.

When you took too long to respond, Law stepped closer.  His own nodachi was unsheathed and held outward in a threatening motion.  “Who.  Are.  You.”

There was no turning back now.  You pivoted on your heels and rotated your body to finally face Law, hoping that the darkness of the night and the overall color of your clothing would conceal your features enough that Law would have to really work at adjusting his pupils enough to see you.

The way his eyes immediately widened, though, told you that he figured you out near instantly.

“B… baby…?” he whispered, his arm lowering.  He frantically slipped Kikoku back into her saya, closing the gap between the two of you and holding out his hand, touching your shoulder as if he wasn’t sure it was actually you in front of him.

Now you felt awful.  His face had rapidly morphed from an expression of profound anger into one of desperate relief that he had found you.  He probably thought you had been captured or worse… and knowing how strongly he felt about losing you��

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Law summoned another Room in order to teleport the two of you into a location that wouldn’t reveal your presence to whoever might have still been inside the cave entrance.  The bisected man could deal.

Law pinned you by one of your wrists against a tree, his hand trembling as he gently squeezed your limb.  “What… why…”

“Law… I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, your voice nothing but a whisper as you struggled to fully rationalize your actions in your head.  “I should have told you.”

You could make out through the darkness the way Law’s golden eyes were frantically examining your body, your clothes, your posture, your overall demeanor, looking for any signs of injury.  It seemed like he almost didn’t realize you weren’t in your boiler suit as he assessed you for any potential injuries.  When he finally did realize your garb was the complete opposite of the usual off-white jumper, he stepped back.  “What… are you…?”

You sucked in a shaky breath.  “A kunoichi,” you muttered.  “A ninja.”

Law finally stepped back enough to give you breathing room, and also pick apart your clothing in the darkness.  You were adorned in a layered hakama, your outer and innermost layers folded similarly to that of a kimono, and an indigo-colored obi was tied securely around your torso.  His jaw might as well have been on the floor.

“You’re a…” he stuttered, rapidly losing the ability to speak.

“A ninja,” you reiterated, keeping your voice low, still unsure about his current emotional state.  For all you knew he could blow up into an angry, petrified, desperate state, so convinced that he had lost you.

Instead, Law reached out a shaky, inked hand and gently ran his fingers across the outer seam of your hakama.

“How long have you… been a…”

“Since I was a child,” you answered, allowing him to digest this insane revelation at his own pace.

Kikoku was placed carefully on the ground, allowing both of Law’s hands to wander your body in a way that somehow replicated a child-like wonder.  He lifted your arms, gazing through the inky blackness at the carefully embroidered and printed details of the fabric that adorned you, spinning you around to examine the way your obi was holding your lower layers into place, trailing his fingers over the way the fabric seamlessly folded over your collarbones.  He went from top to bottom, picking apart every single aspect of your appearance.  This was the last reaction you were expecting from the man, to say the least.

“Law…?” you anxiously muttered, letting him lift up your arm once again to examine the way the fabric of your shōzoku flowed downward.  “Can you say something?”

Your boyfriend finally paused, his eyes darting up to meet yours.  “You’re really a ninja,” he asked, more-so wanting to confirm one last time that, yes, you were telling the truth.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Holy shit,” he uttered back, his voice airy and bewildered.  “That’s… you’re… you’re so cool.”

Your heart swelled twice its size at his words.  “You really think so?”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he suddenly asked, his hands never once leaving your figure.

You pursed your lips.  “I’ve been keeping it a secret forever, really… it just never occurred to me, I guess.”  That was only partially true, but you didn’t feel like now was the time to get into your worries of involving your lover or your crewmates into your risky solo endeavors.  “Are you… mad at me?”

“Furious,” Law stated back swiftly.  “I thought Penguin and Hakugan lost you for good.”

Your stomach rolled around uncomfortably in your stomach.  “I’m really sorry, Law… I know I should’ve told you.  I’m sorry for making you worry so much…”

“Worry doesn’t even begin to cut it,” he barked.  His voice was still low, his hands still dissecting you from the outside, but his body radiated a fierce, overwhelming aura of a pent up fury.  “Please don’t do that again… if you want to go rogue then just tell me.”

You eagerly nodded.  “I will, I promise.”

Law didn’t respond, and instead continued gazing at your apparel.  “You’re so cool…” he whispered, a sudden, jarring shift from his previous words.  “You’re a ninja… holy shit.”

He was nerding out now.  His dominant, protective captain and boyfriend side was dealt with in the form of chastising you for hiding your secret from him, and now he was free to gush.

“I am,” you added, a small, unsure smile pulling at your lips.  

“My girl is a ninja… oh my god.”

“I know where the poneglyph is,” you quietly muttered, a vain attempt to see if you could snatch Law’s attention away from you.

“I know.  But you’re a ninja.”

No dice, he was fixated.

“You look like Stealth Black, kinda.  From volume 15 when he and Sora fought over that cityscape in the middle of the night.”  He was transfixed.

“If I’d known you would’ve loved this so much, I would’ve told you a lot sooner,” you chuckled.

Law’s eyes finally tore away from the way you tied your obi, landing on your face.  “We’ll come back for the poneglyph.  We’re going back to the Tang.”

[sissylittlefeather]

Animal Instinct: A Johnny Tyrone Story

A/N: I hadn't written a movie character one in a while, so it just felt right. Also, even if you hate Harum Scarum, the smut here is some of the hottest I've ever written so, y'know, read it anyway 😂

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, all the smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, face fucking, ejaculation, Johnny is a bit bossy, but not mean, idk this is a smut fest

Word count: ~2k

Johnny surveys the room while his movie plays on the projector. This is a wild crowd, exotic and unique, but also beautiful. His eyes move from face to face, admiring the women as he scans for someone to entertain him tonight. He's leaving in the morning, but he has this evening to fill and he knows what he's in the mood for.

That's when he finds you, a cocktail waitress, moving clumsily from table to table. It's obvious you're a little uncomfortable in this role, but he finds all your stumbles and apologies endearing. Especially when you bend over to pick up a dropped fork and your tight skirt rides up in the back and perfectly hugs the curve of your ass. Eventually, you bring a tray of drinks over to his table. You notice him immediately, looking almost like James Bond in his white jacket with the black bow tie. As an American expat who's living here with your family after your father moved to the area for business, you're familiar with Johnny Tyrone. Without thinking, you lean over the table to hand someone else a drink and he gets a good peek of your cleavage. Now he's dead set on making something happen with you. He just has to find the right opening, the right line. But he doesn't even need one when you accidentally slip and drop a whole glass of red wine in his lap, staining his white jacket.

“Oh my God! Shit. I'm so sorry!” He chuckles a little at how you curse and fumble to find a napkin.

“It's really fine-”

“No! I ruined your jacket!” You go to work frantically wiping his lap to try to clean up the mess you've made, not even thinking about which part of his body you're touching. He tries to decide if he should stop you, since you're basically stroking his cock at this point, but he decides this is his opening. That's when you feel him and gasp. He's rock hard under your palm.

“Oh!” You freeze and pull your hand back quickly. “Oh God, I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be, honey, I was quite enjoying it.” If he was any other man on earth, that might be creepy, but he gives you a small lopsided smile and you melt, your panties getting noticeably wetter.

“Your jacket…” He looks down at the giant red stain at the bottom of his jacket.

“I bet you've got something in the kitchen that'll get this off. Don't ya, honey?” His blue eyes are on fire and you know he's not talking about getting a stain off.

“Yeah… some club soda… or something.” You bite your bottom lip and rub your thighs together, praying he doesn't notice, but he does, of course. He's got you exactly where he wants you.

“Well, I'm following you, honey.” You notice he adjusts himself so that his erection won't be noticeable when he stands up. Nodding, you let him put his hand on the small of your back and then guide him to the kitchen.

Thankfully, everyone there is so worried about what they're doing that no one bats an eye when you walk in with him. He leans down and whispers in your ear, pressing himself up behind you.

“We need somewhere more private to take care of this… stain…” You wrack your brain and look around the room. That's when you remember the dry storage closet. No one ever really goes in there after the cooking is finished and it's big enough for two people to move around comfortably.

“C'mon.” You grab his hand and take him to the closet, prepared to tell anyone who asks that you're looking for club soda, but no one even acknowledges you.

When you make it inside, he has his hand on your ass before you even close the door. Once it's locked, he pushes up against your back again and whispers in your ear.

“I'm Johnny, honey. What's your name?” You whisper your name back to him breathlessly as he presses his lips to the side of your neck. “You're very sexy, honey. Anybody ever tell you how sexy you are?”

His hot breath on your ear has you dripping with desire as his lips graze your skin. You whimper as he puts both hands on your hips, bending you forward a bit, and then runs them down the front of your thighs to the hem of your dress. He moves his fingertips under the edge of your skirt and around to the back of your legs. One hand grabs your ass cheek and the other slips between your legs up to your slippery center. He pushes your panties to the side and runs a finger through your folds, moving his other hand up to your hip to hold you still.

“Damn, honey. So wet already and I haven't even touched you yet. Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you, princess.” You gasp as he pushes first one and then two fingers up inside of you, pumping them hard. “You like that? You like it when daddy fucks you with his fingers, princess?”

“Y-yes… oh God, daddy.” You whimper and moan as he slams his hand against you. After a few seconds, he slips his fingers out and then pulls you back to his chest, whispering in your ear.

“Just wait until I get my cock in you.” You moan loudly and grind your ass against him where he strains against his pants. “Is that what you want, princess?”

“Fuck… yes, please.” It comes out as a whine and he smiles.

“Tell daddy what you want.” He slides both hands up your front to squeeze your breasts.

“I w-want you to fuck me.” He groans in your ear and bucks his hips against your ass. You feel him pull back a bit as he undoes his pants and frees his dick, pumping it a few times. He rips your panties down with one hand and they get stuck at your knees, but he doesn't care. You whimper when he pulls your skirt up roughly, exposing you to him. You've never been with anyone this intense and it's turning you on like crazy.

“Such a pretty little ass.” He spanks you and you yelp a little. “I'd love to get my tongue in your pussy, but I'm not sure daddy can wait that long tonight.”

As he talks, he rubs his tip around in your arousal. You can't see his cock, so when he starts to push into you, you gasp a little with the size of him.

“You're taking daddy’s cock so well, princess. D’you like it? Like me fillin’ you up like this?” You whimper and nod your head, unable to make words. He bends you forward and pushes on your lower back to arch it a bit as he finally bottoms out, so deep inside you it makes you want to scream in the best way possible. Then, he grabs your ponytail, wraps it around his hand, and pulls as he waits for you to adjust to him.

You hold onto the metal shelves filled with dry goods and he slowly starts to pick up a pace of pounding you from behind. Each thrust gets a little harder and eventually things are falling off the shelves as he slams into you over and over, one hand in your hair and one hand on your hip. “Fuck, honey, this little pussy is so good. So good and tight for daddy.”

You moan loudly as droplets of sweat slide down his forehead. He hasn't had a fuck this good in a while and he's not exactly eager for it to end. Still, he can feel you getting close and he's also not going to let you go unsatisfied.

“You gonna cum for daddy, princess?”

“Yes, oh!” You're a whimpering, gasping mess at this point.

“Be a good girl and rub on your clit for me.” He says it with such authority that you don't even think about it. You just run your hand between your legs and go to work dragging your fingertips over your sensitive bud as he ruts into you from behind. “That's it, honey, good girl. Make yourself cum for daddy.”

“Fuck…” It comes out as a moan as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Come on, honey. Daddy needs to feel you.” That's all it takes to push you over the edge into the wildest climax you've ever experienced. It's like someone lit your blood on fire as it rushes through you and you shiver and throb around his cock. He fucks you through it and you damn near pass out with the sensation of him hitting your g-spot as you cum.

When you go floppy, he pulls out and turns you around, pushing you up against the door. He lifts you up by your thighs and slides into you as you wrap your legs around his waist. You bite your lip to keep from screaming at the overstimulation, but it feels so good that you'd never dream of making him stop. Almost anticipating what you're thinking, he whispers huskily in your ear.

“You can do it, princess. You can take this cock until I finish like a good girl.”

“Fuck, daddy, please…”

“Please what?” He kisses your neck so tenderly as he pounds you harder than you've ever been fucked before.

“Please don't stop…”

“You want daddy to fill you up with cum, princess? Or you want it all over you?”

“On me.” He grins and captures your lips in a bruising kiss. Then, he pulls out and sets your feet back on the floor. Your legs are shaking like crazy though, so you're thankful when he gives you a new direction.

“Get on your knees, princess.” You eagerly do as you're told and he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “Open.”

He pushes his cock past your lips and as far back as it'll go without making you gag. Somehow, he knows just where to stop, as he holds your ponytail again and thrusts slowly into your mouth. Your eyes water, but you use your hand to pump the rest of him. He's too big to fit entirely into your mouth.

“Yes, princess. You like when daddy fucks you like this? God, you're so pretty with your lips on my cock.” You can't do anything more than let out a muffled moan. “Gonna cum soon.”

You push the shoulders of your shirt down and expose your breasts, squeezing them together to give him a target. He groans and pulls out of your mouth, pumping his dick a few times before he cums long and hard all over your chest.

“Fuck yeah, princess. God, you're so sexy wearing my cum like that.” He holds your chin in his hand and smiles down at you, still fully dressed in his white jacket with the wine stain on it. With his help, you shakily get to your feet and he finds a napkin to wipe you clean with. But before he does, he pulls your shirt back up, leaving you a mess under your top.

“Johnny, what-?” As he wipes the parts of your chest that can be seen, he smirks.

“Now you know, and I know, that you're covered in me where it can't be seen.” Your mouth pops open in slight shock, but the thought turns you on so much that you close it again.

“That's… wow…” He leans in and kisses your cheek. “What are you going to do about your jacket?”

“I have another one in my room. Speaking of…” you feel him press a key into your palm. “You should head up there as soon as you finish here. I'm not quite done with you, princess.”

He winks and clicks his tongue as he walks out of the closet, leaving you to clean up the room. You pick up everything that fell off of the shelves and straighten your dress to go back to work. But no matter how hard you try, you can't ignore the feeling of his release under your shirt. You look at the key in your hand and sigh. There's not a damn thing that could keep you out of his room tonight.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

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[f0point5]

"Max's comments about British bias is so weird. I really like Max, and I think he is a talented driver, but his behaviour over the past few weeks hasn't been okay. You'd think, from the way he's acting, that the points gap between him and Lando was only a few points. Yes, mathematically, Lando still has a chance to win the wdc, but realistically, we all know it's a stretch- even lando admits this.

For Max and red bull to feel so threatened that they're talking about landos mental health, claiming Oscar dosen't deserve to be second driver (discussion already heated as it is without Maxs comments on it) and even admitting to crashing Lando out to prevent him from winning ... for what?

I get that to win, you need to be ruthless, but this feels unnecessary and unprovoked because Max driving alone would be enough and also he has his whole team helping him to win wdc without a doubt. It's not like Lando is out there in the media claiming he's the best in the world. In fact, the media often uses every opportunity to criticise him or protray him in a negative light.

Contrary to max's comments about the media and FIA being biased towards British drivers like Lando, this just isn't true. maybe after Miami there was optimism, but with all the missed opportunities, the media narrative shifted quickly, focusing on Lando's bad starts.

After Hungary, every media outlet was discussing how Oscar doesn't deserve to be second driver and how good he is compared to Lando, and how mclaren is refusing to prioritise lando. they questioned his championship mentality, despite his consistent performances. And aside from Zandvoort and Singapore, there was more talk about his mistakes and narratives being used for clickbaits.

media bias in sports isn't new. durch media will focus on Max, Australian media on their drivers, and british media on theirs. this is expected. you could argue that British media has a larger international reach, but thats beyond any athletes control.

example: sky Germany constantly talks about Nico Hülkenberg, or the chances of Mick Schuhmacher, and sometimes even missing race action to cover him.

However, using "british bias" as a defence when he was clearly in the wrong, and in the same breath throwing lando to the wolves and disregarding real bias against other poc driver on the grid, is just not okay. Not all drivers have the privilege of being white male with a dutch passport. maybe I'm exaggerating, but as poc myself, it really weird that Max used this as a clap back for something he himself admitted to doing - trying to prevent Lando from winning.

everyone talks about British bias and how "unfair" it is for Max and it is, the British media talked bad about him especially in the being of his career and him winning and Im not denying that but a few acknowledge the racism and bias faced by other drivers. I don't think these comments are funny or make a good clapback. and for a fact I know that if Lando said a similar thing, the reaction would have been entirely different.

Because Max is a little bitch who lashes out every time he's under pressure. As is a staple of his career. But since his "lashing out" is being overtly aggressive and an arrogant asshole, it's viewed as "woooo that's why he's a champion" instead of weakness."

I honestly do not understand how people cannot see that there is a clear bias towards Max. For a fan base that says the hate towards Lando needs to stop but has absolutely no issue throwing it towards Max the hypocrisy at its finest.

Oh lorddd.

First, no one talked about Lando’s mental health. Your competitive mentality is NOT the same thing as your all around mental health. You can be the happiest most well adjusted person in the world and a competitive environment and pressure can just get to you. Sure, your psychology influences and impacts how you deal with stress and failure and success and all that. But saying Lando cracks under pressure is not the same as ragging on his mental health.

Oscar is a good driver…what was the harm in recognising that? Also, Max doesn’t owe it to McLaren not to share his opinion so as not to upset whatever disaster they have potentially simmering over there?

And Max did not admit he crashed Lando out because he didn’t crash Lando out. They did not make contact. Lando finished second. So…that just straight up didn’t happen. But that “for what” 😂 for…the championship? Please god open the schools.

British bias is real, every single driver who is not British and winning has talked about it. The fact that everyone just accepts it as standard because the brits have basically a monopoly on broadcasting rights is actually mental. And yes it’s the same in every country and in my opinion it’s moronic in every fucking language. But it’s exponentially worse when Sky Sports is the main broadcaster, and when the F1TV pundits are all incredibly biased. F1TV is not a National channel, no it should not be “expected” that they border on unprofessional in the way they talk about certain drivers. they should not be allowed to be biased, in my opinion. I should not know that Jenson Button wants to lick the soles of Lando’s shoes. And mind you, I think both Sky Sports and F1TV presenters have been unprofessional even when they talk about British drivers, at some points, but to nowhere near the extent of the way they talk about Max. That’s why the only one I respect is Nico Rosberg because he is genuinely an equal opportunity hater.

Also, Max can talk about whatever the fuck he wants. The microphone is in front of him, not anyone else, so while you don’t have to agree with his opinion, it’s a take it or leave it thing, there is no third option to demand he say something different.

And in conclusion, yeah when Max is Max people say “he’s a champion” because he fucking is. In 2016/17/18 they were calling dangerous and crazy. And then it turned out what he does works for him. See how when you succeed you earn the right to do what you want, because people trust your process? (Brits don’t get it because for some reason they think their way will always prevail in the face of reason and results that say otherwise) “lashing out under pressure is a staple of his career”…so is performing under pressure. Not everyone can say the same.

He requires no defence, just look at the record book.

Maybe it’s just me, but despite the hate against Max being awful and just as uncalled for as the hate towards Lando…I kind of find it so much less impactful. You can’t really gain ground hating on a guy who has done exactly what he wants to do in the sport. So you think he’s an asshole…and what? Is that a crime? Is that relevant? Who even cares? Certainly not him. They just look so bizarre to me. I can’t fathom thinking someone should care what I think about their behaviour any more than I can fathom caring what someone thinks about mine.

Lol that quote was a deep dive into the mind of a parasocial for sure.

[mistresswriter19]

That's Not My Milk Ma'am... ( Francis Mosses X Female Reader ( NSFW)

🔞 Heavy Smut Warning 🔞 ⚠️

Author's Note: This Milkman has been quite popular in the main and there's a lot of thirsty art of art and fics so joining the band wagon of writing fanfics of Francis Mosses because we all need more of him 

Enjoy ^^

1964 ~

You had a job as a doorman or should say doorwomen by checking the residents ID'S and letting them the keys to their apartments every day and it seemed like the hours were very long for you. The people you had to keep track of every time they stepped out from their rooms were your neighbors. That's correct you knew everyone from the floor you were at the third floor apartment three. There has been an outbreak of doppelgangers and you had to be sure that you were carefully keeping watch of your neighbors and if they were doppelgangers they would be exterminated according to the local government.

Another rough day and it seemed there weren't any doppelgangers to report. You went to bed and tried not to think about anything else except for one person you were absolutely interested in but didn't know if they would have the same feelings for you.

( Knock Knock)

You rubbed your eyes as you open the door to see a tired yet attractive milkman holding out a jar of milk as he mumbled his words with a blank expression.

"Your milk ma'am " Francis said as he swiveled the jug seeing the milk tilt to get your attention.

Oh I'm sorry, I must have zoned out. You said putting your hand behind your back with a nervous laugh seeing Francis amused.

It happens to all of us ma'am especially with this " stinking dead end job ". Francis explains with his face looking down at the carpet of yours.

I see but I do appreciate you delivering milk. I know a job like that seems hard. I said holding the milk with both hands and it was still cold must get the first ones you thought to yourself.

Thanks Ma'am Francis replied tipping his hat as a polite gesture which made you face turn pink a little as you did your best to hide at least Francis didn't look because he was busy counting more Milk jugs he had to deliver.

I'll definitely use this milk to drink, and probably for breakfast meals I said trying to start a conversation since it was quite hard for Francis to open up to anyone who always keeps to himself and focus on his job.

See you Ma'am Francis looks back at you then picks up the tray of milk in jugs his foot away from the carpet but you step in and place your hand on his white uniform which caught his attention making him turn away as you wanted to freak out.

WAIT!

Mmmm…

I…uh..I was wondering… Okay no more being awkward… Franics may I come by your apartment when your off work? I like to keep you company. You said as you delicate fingers brushed away from his shoulder. You didn't know how Francis would react and being quite bold to honestly ask him out. After a few minutes of silence you want to close the door but you heard Francis talk making you put your hand away from the door.

Sure, I'll be out by 7pm,

I'm next door to you on the second floor, apartment F0-3 02. Francis explained as you had his full attention.

You sure about this it's just a offer you said putting your hand around your shoulder showing your shyness there was no way in your mind he would say " sure ". But your left kept ringing this wasn't fiction it was reality.

Sure Francis repeated him as adjust his buttons from his uniform making you twiddle your fingers because Francis is a very attractive guy you laid your eyes on his milkman hat always perfectly straight, chestnut brown hair hard to see from the hat but always a mess from the rounds he goes each apartment and house to deliver everyone there daily milk before the day runs out. Belt in place buckled and seemed to have a reflection from the silver attached to the black leather strap keeping hold of his white pants matching his whole white uniform. Francis black stylish shoes were always shiny and heard a squeak. Sometimes just everything about him was perfect. You also couldn't forget his black eyes with a white pupil yet he was so tired but you hope one day he could smile.

Alright sounds perfect. See you soon you said as Francis nods, grabbing the cart and walking away heading down the stairs. You went to follow seeing him go outside knowing each door to deliver milk. Made you have butterflies in your stomach whenever he would walk or hand someone a fresh milk jug.

Francis I wish you were here… you said underneath your breath fantasized with the milk he always delivers but you mostly kept the milk instead of using it all up he you were afraid Francis wouldn't come back. Seems odd but it was a way to remind you of his appearance.

At The Milk Corporation

Francis just got back from the neighborhood and he placed his hand above his head wiping the sweat dripping down his neck. His job wasn't easy getting up around 4am in the morning delivering milk door to door. Sometimes he'll just leave the milk and not answer if he has a lack of sleep. Overall Francis had decent people he encountered, some would flip him off or some wanted to be in bed with him that's where he goes for the main exit outside. Many of his coworkers were the first ones to finish as they drank coffee or smoked a cigarette talking about their lives, everyone chimed in except for Francis who would keep to himself.

"Fuck… I can't keep this up, my knees are going to go out this age "

Exhales from cigarettes " They should pay us more for being up so damn early to deliver milk to people who honestly don't give a shit what happens to us ".

Sips from coffee " It's a job and I have to be somewhat grateful especially for the creepy shit of doppelgangers going on this town".

Franics would open his shirt a little and light up a cigarette laying back on the chair just thinking to himself. How does he do this all day and mostly be home at night? He did look forward to seeing Y/N. He knew from the start that she had a crush on him and made Francis smirk a little as he looked at the clock. More milk jugs have to be filled with cartens to pull and write daily reports. Francis took out his cigarette and got back to work soon or later it was 7pm time to clock out.

Back In The Apartment

I can't believe I'm doing this… you said with your hand clutching on the end of your dress showing your anxiety, you wanted to look nice and presentable by wearing a formal dress, with heels, did your make up, and got your hair done also carrying a purse. You then sigh and saw it was pass 7pm and then Knock on the door.

( Unclicks)

Hey you made it, Come in Francis said opening the door all the way letting you in as you did a curtsey showing nice gesture.

Thank you Francis you said with your hands holding onto your purse with your heels clicking from the ground taking a look at Francis place seem nice, a few vintage style posters, ash tray with newspaper on the table next to the radio. The walk to a kitchen wear it was pretty small but durable for two people, some apartments can give you so much, you step into bathroom, nice tub, men body wash, shaving cream, perfect size toilet and a window nearby that's been closed for years.

You have a lovely home You said looking more around the place instead of Francis because you had two feelings: anxious and excitement.

Thanks Francis replied, tipping his hat like he did in the morning when he first gave you the daily milk.

You wanted Francis to open up. You decided you were going to cook something for the both of you while you chat as you went to the kitchen picking out the ingredients he has and Francis didn't mind at all. The only downfall was no one has ever talked to him for a while except for his daughter who he hardly doesn't see at all.

So Francis, How was your day? You said putting on the stove cooking some hamburger meat into medium size patties with the cheese melted as Francis walks stands leaning against the wall answering your question.

It was fine, tired but I got the amount I was paid for so the same usual day like others when it comes to their job. How about yours?

This was a good start. Francis was opening up little by little with you as you used the spatula to turn the burgers over while smashing, placing a few eggs, peeling the shell, and slicing potatoes.

Well everyone has to do a job but I'm glad it was fine for you. If you want to talk about anything I'm here for you. You said as you then added a scoop of mayonaise making a potato salad to go with the burgers.

Thanks…. Y/N. You're the first one who's ever wanting to know about my day and visit. Francis said walking closer to you as you finished the burgers placing the buns together and serving them in a plate. You felt Francis body lean to you as you couldn't help but your face turned pink he was a very attractive milkman. You brushed it off and place the food on the table.

I hope you like it, since the weather is pretty warm, why not homemade burgers and potato salad, you said with a smile.

This looks delicious thank you. Francis said as he took a bite of your burger and the fork to take a bite of your potato salad. Then you went to the fridge to grab drinks all you say were mostly beer and milk.

Beer or milk Francis? You ask having a hard time deciding

Beer for me, had a long day. Francis replied, taking a few more bites of the burger as you nodded, opening the bottle cap and handing it to him. Then you realized your fingertips touched, causing you to look at each other, then looked away a little.

How's your job as a doorwoman? Francis asked as he takes a long sip of beer tapping on the tip a little as you answered not really touching your food just more interested in communicating with Francis.

It's good, I had no doppelganger situations just the usual residents, checking there IS and leading them to there rooms. The usual but it was nice I got out a decent time when I was able to swing to meet you. You said your hands folded together.

That was delicious food Y/N thank you. It's nice to have company I really don't reach out based on the face I always have because many people would bring me down or were just not interested and I've been alone for years and I got around with life. Francis pointed out as he took more chugs on his beer the way to cope from his job. You honestly felt bad for him and wish you were there from the beginning but now could be your chance.

You have me Francis, I know it's hard being on your own and talking others but you can trust me, I'll be here with you every step you said putting your hand into his palm causing Francis to blush a little from the response he put his hat tipping so you wouldn't see his flushed reaction which made you giggle because it was cute.

Y/N… Franics said as he held out your hand giving it a small kiss as a sweet gesture making your heart skip a beat from the affection this milkman gave you.

Oh I didn't see your bedroom yet, you went to open the door but Franics immediately jumped out of his seat and grabbed your arm telling you not to go in there but you did and he had a plan yet king size bed, clock on a wall, his usual uniforms on the floor, vinyl records then you noticed jars of milk as you went to examine that's when Franics open up to you more than you think

Wow I didn't know you like to keep milk in your room, I wouldn't mind I am kind of thirsty you said but Francis slaps the jug out of your hand causing you a red mark on your skin.

Don't! Francis said as you were rubbing the mark he gave you demanding a explanation.

Oww… what's wrong with you! You yelled hurt from his actions but it changes when he explains himself

That's not my milk ma'am…Francis said turning the other way as you were confused then took a moment to realize that was his semen in those jugs in his room. You look back turning red from embarrassment yet you felt your cross your legs because a hint of arousal building up your body.

Do.d..d..do you get those urges? You ask trying to reason with him.

Sometimes… Francis said

Oh we all have the urge and there's no shame, we have to put our mind and work to rest and focus on some pleasure in our life you explained. You said you were feeling the heat because of Francis.

You and Francis gaze at each other for a while until you two then press lips together for a kiss. Francis went first the kiss was filled with passion and some lust in between. Wrapping each other's arms together as you kissed a little faster with Francis causing you to breath quite heavy.

( Huff… Huff… Huff…) Y/N I need you, can't take anymore with these jugs of pleasure myself .

Huff Francis… I..I ahhh!

I'm going to make you squirm and have you more ~ I'll be the top and you'll be the bottom following my word. Francis said, placing his finger upon your lip rubbing, making you clutched on his white uniform.

Yes… you said with your face flushed and breathing heavy.

You felt Francis suck on your neck with his hands pulling up your dress with a shiver in between it's been a long time you had pleasure like this. A few drapes and tongue your fingers dangles between his milkman uniform undoing his buttons one by one as he leaves a few marks around you and pulling off your dress top exposed nipples he smirk with a tug and pull made your squirm .

Haaa~ Ahhhh~ Francis sensitive..ahh.. you said as Francis placed his mouth on your breasts sucking them dry like a cow aching for milk. Francis then in between took the buckle out of his pants pulling out his cock that was aching with his cream already dripping down his pants he was that desperate for some attention and a pussy to be filled inside.

Y/N fuck… you're the reason why I have this side I don't show to others ha…ahh~ Francis as he continue to kiss you with his slip in between causing you two have salvia drip down at the end of your lips. He then toss his hat aside revealing his messy brown hair with your hands feeling his scalped and how soft his hair was as he then proceed to undo his tie opening part of his tighten broad chest making your legs shake in between with the slide of his fingers slipping your panties to the side spreading you wide open as he look back at you.

Francis ha…please put it in you pleaded with your hands now onto his shoulders he listens to your sweet sounds as he presses the cock inside your pink bulb causing you gasps .

Shh~ Shh~ Relax I'll go slow ~ Francis replied as he brushed his fingers dangled to your hair as he started to thrust feeling the slaps of both of your bodies he made a groan fucking you nicely as you rolled your eyes back body leaning down as you moan out Francis many times.

Ahh..haaa..Francis..haaa.. yes.. yes.. Francis…oh! You said as he kept fucking you in front as he placed you more onto the sheets and he leaned in kissing you upon the lips quite sloppy as the two of you hold onto each other with the cum stains on the bed. You wanted Francis and he really wanted you.

You could milk me anytime darling fuck~ Francis replied when he went faster since he was closed. He then proceeded to grab a jug as your leg wrapped around his waist, not letting go seeing his cock thrusting more up and down. He probably wanted to store his semen of having sex for someone beautiful as yourself.

I'm close fuck.. I'm cumming…I'm cumming I'm fuck… Francis said as you moan more out as his hand was on the wall to keep it together as he finally released his load and half he place his cun in the jug groaning in between as he held onto you.

I guess you could call that your secret stash of milk you said while exhaling after he came hard and loaded. You look down to see your pussy dripping from cum as well with your hair a mess as Francis chuckles in between and laid next to you on the bed. The two held onto each other.

That was incredible Y/N~ we should do more of this often Francis replied his finger onto your button nose as you look back laying your head against his chest resting your eyes

Francis...

Mmm?

I love you… you replied as you drift off to sleep while Francis kissed your cheek and held onto your hand and he then smile looking at you tired and filled with bliss.

I love you too~ Francis said back as he drifted his eyes holding you close bundling up to stay warm a new begin starts with you and your local milkman ~

End~

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 10)

“Thank you Mrs. Rayn!” N shouted back into the nursery, holding a large container of oil in his hand as he began to walk out of the door, but the old drone clapsed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“Just a moment N” She began, and he was surprised she'd been able to catch him so quickly with her bum leg, he turned and looked down, a curious look on his face.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“Uzi mentioned to me you live in that pile of corpses outside, is that right?” He blinked, taken aback for a moment at her question.

“The spire? Yeah, V and I both do.” He replied, almost confused, he had assumed that was common knowledge…unless she was worried about his hygiene!

“Oh! If this is about Tera Uzi taught me to sterilize my hands and arms before touching her, so there's no need to worry!” He beamed, making a gesture as if to reassure her.

“That is good to know, but that's not what I was worried about… do you, like it there? It can't be comfortable.” She asked, looking almost concerned for him, that was new, he wasn't used to that from anyone but Uzi.

“I mean, it keeps me out of the sun, and I've made it pretty soft! So I don't have any problem with it!” He explained happily, although he would admit, with V either gone or distant, and him spending most of his time now with Uzi, the spire was beginning to feel barren.

“Hmmm, still, a pile of corpses is no place for a young man to live, especially not one he's taking girls too…” He cocked his head to the side in confusion. Girls? V already lived there… unless she was talking about Uzi? Yeah she'd spent the night a couple more times since the first time. But it wasn't like he was trying to show it off to her.

Should he be?

“Mrs. Rayn? What do you mean by that?” He asked nervously, a few digital drops of sweat falling down his visor.

“I mean, for Robo-Gods sake, if you want to entertain your girlfriend, I wouldn't do it in a spire made from her peoples corpses.”

He felt his core jump up into his throat, his tail stiffen, and his face alight with a golden blush.

“Uzi's not-uh- we're not together… like that!” He exclaimed, and he didn't like how unconvincing he sounded, his voice cracking like he was back at the manor, trying to get out of trouble.

But she did have a good point. Uzi probably didn't want to be around a spire made of corpses of her own people. Crap, he really was clueless. And suddenly felt incredibly guilty with how he may have made her uncomfortable.

Mrs. Rayn looked unconvinced, crossing her arms and lifting her brow in a questioning manner, huh, is that where Uzi picked that up from?

“But you do have a point… I didn't think of that.” He mumbled, making the older drone shake her head and sigh.

“N you're a sweet boy and you don't deserve to sleep outside. Why don't you talk to Khan about getting you a room in the bunker?”

He thought about it, and while on one hand that sounded really nice. On the other…

V was there, at the end of the hallway watching Mrs. Elliot as she disciplined another worker drone, and by discipline, he meant destroy, driving her high heel into the back of it's neck, severing it almost instantly. But not quick enough to stop it from seizing and gasping for air as it's vents were cut off from power.

She jumped when she felt N's hand on her shoulder, fear dancing in her white eyelights for a split second before she smiled warily, adjusting her glasses.

“You good?” He asked, looking over her shoulder to make sure Mrs. Elliot wouldn't come their way, thankfully, she walked down another hall. Heels clicking.

“Y-yeah, just…” She looked back at the corpse of the worker drone, leaking oil onto the floor and likely staining the floorboards with black permanently.

“It's gonna be alright, we just have to listen, and Tessa will keep us safe, she always does.” He replied, his hand sliding down her arm to meet hers, and his other going up to adjust her glasses again, as they threatened to fall off. Both drones looked away and blushed, he quickly released her, core full of butterflies.

“A-and you won't leave me alone? Right?” She stammered, still looking slightly scared, taking a step towards him as if begging him to stay with her.

“Of course not, I'll always be here.”

He'd be leaving V alone in the spire, and as much as she'd been distant lately, he couldn't quite bring himself to break that promise from so many years ago. Regardless of the different circumstancew that they found themselves in now.

“I would have to think about it… but thank you for the suggestion.” He replied, feeling incredibly conflicted about it all.

He really needed to talk to V.

“You're welcome, now run along, I'm sure Uzi is getting impatient by now.” Rayn smiled at him kindly, waving him off as she hobbled back behind the counter, leaving him to head back out of the nursery.

Where Uzi was now deep in a conversation with Thad, she was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed but smiling at him, nodding her head along with whatever the drone was saying.

For a split second, he felt a sudden urge to interrupt their conversation, preferably by pulling Uzi into a hug and away from him. Before he stopped that train of thought. Thad was a good guy, and they were bros, he had no reason to protect Uzi from him. Especially when he was one of Uzi's only friends here.

And yet, he for some reason wanted to keep him away. And he wasn't sure why.

“Hey Thad!” He called out, repressing those weird feelings and replacing them with the thought of hanging out with two of his closest friends! That sounded nice!

“Hey N and M's! How's it hanging?” Thad responded, his voice slow and cool as usual. He held out a fist bump, which N happily returned.

“Just hanging out Thad, it's kinda all we do now.” Uzi responded for him, seemingly still wary about anyone finding out about her trips to the nursery.

“Right right. Anyway, I wanted to see if you two wanted to come to a party at my place. Don't know the details yet, just getting a read, ya know?” He asked, looking between them.

They looked at each other, neither used to being invited to anything, before N broke the silence for both of them.

“Heck yeah! We missed the last one, that whole thing was kinda crazy.” He beamed, making Thad smile and laugh.

“Awesome! Zi has my number, I'll text you the time and place yeah?” He turned to Uzi who just rolled her eyes and nodded.

‘Sweet! Hey, gotta run, Lizzy’s blowing up my phone. Something about her dad.” He waved them off with a salute before running off. Uzi turned to him with a grimace.

“Hey, we didn't discuss that! How'd you know I'd even want to go?” Her arms were crossed, and she looked almost pouty. Cute.

“What do you mean? You seemed so excited when he invited us last time!” He replied, an innocent smile on his face.

She grumbled, looking embarrassed.

“Shut up…”

He laughed, knowing she wanted to go but didn't want to admit it.

“Did you get the extra oil?” She asked as they began walking side by side in the hall, garnering a few odd looks from passersby, from either N being a disassembly drone or Uzi being herself. It was hard to tell.

“Yep!” He happily handed her the container the contents sloshing around.

"Sweet. Thank you N.” She brushed her hand against his arm and he blushed, feeling electricity travel through his arm straight to his head.

“N-no worries!” He stammered “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean last time you pushed it, you hurt yourself.”

He was concerned, the solver was a powerful tool but one that seemed to take a lot out of her if overused.

“That's what the oil's for. N, I need to master my powers. The longer I don't understand it, the more danger I put you and V in.” She replied, her mind seemingly made up, although N was still rather unconvinced.

“And that's why you're here… you were able to bring me out of it last time. Why not now?” She finished, using a much softer tone that went straight to N’s core and he suddenly couldn't find the will to argue.

She quickly opened the front door of her apartment, only to find Khan already there at the table, reading a book about mechanics and drinking coolant.

“Hello Mr. Doorman!” N greeted cheerily, giving him a small wave as he stepped inside. Khan jumped slightly, startled. Before forcefully calming himself.

“N, hello.” He greeted, turning to his daughter, who still had a look of disdain written all over her face.

“What's the container for dronelette?”

Aww, that was actually kinda cute.

“Project N is helping me on. No big deal.” She waved him off, but instead Khan clasped a hand on N's shoulder. Stopping him from following her to her room.

“Before you get too far into your uh “project.” I'd like have a word, man to man.” N froze up, glancing back at Khan and then to Uzi, who looked equally as confused, she shrugged. Then made a gesture to tell him to go ahead, before shutting the door.

Kinda felt like deja-vu.

“Yes Mr. Doorman?” He turned to face the older drone, who had strolled back to his seat, motioning for N to take the one in front of him.

Reluctantly, he did, feeling the prickle of nerves on the back of his metallic neck, he played with his own fingers nervously, looking up and around and anywhere but into the eyelights of his best freinds dad.

“I know you and my daughter have been visiting the nursery.” Was the next thing out of his mouth, and N felt his tail stiffen behind him.

“Oh… well yeah, she needs oil now and she's not getting it from me so…” He was a horrible lair, he hated being dishonest, hence why every lie he'd ever told was lying by omission.

“Tera. I know about Tera.” He gulped, yeah no he couldn't exactly lie and say he didn't know what he was talking about now.

“Y-yeah?” Was all he replied with, sitting up straighter, a voice in the back of his mind telling him “Fix your posture! Before you get in trouble!”

Khan was silent for a moment, taking another sip from his mug, the digital creases on his face seemed to become more pronounced.

“You aren't… planning to adopt her are you?” He asked simply, although N could tell he had wanted to say more, but held himself back.

“No. We just…” He faltered, not knowing how to dance around the fact that it was Khan that influenced Uzi's decision to start visiting, because she felt abandoned by him, because she was.

So he simply didn't. Feeling like perhaps Khan should know exactly how Uzi felt about him, if he didn't already

“You left her for dead.” He said quietly, a timbre to his voice that had never been their before, something a little rough that sounded a little bit too much like J in his opinion.

“Uzi felt abandoned, by you, by the colony.” He felt unsure about this, but something in him implored him to keep going. Just because he respected the man didn't mean he wasn't angry with how he'd treated his daughter, and made her feel like nothing.

She wasn't nothing, she was…everything.

“She didn’t want that little girl to feel the same way you made her feel. Mr. Doorman.” He finished, he hadn't realized he'd stood up slightly until he sat back down, he felt a little lightheaded, like he'd channeled something long buried.

Khan looked like he'd just seen a ghost, he stared at N for a moment before looking down and burying his head in his hands.

“I know…” His voice was so meek, N immediately felt terrible, but he didn't say anything, only looked to the side to give the drone a moment to compose himself, his arms were crossed, he felt powerful, and he didn't like it.

“What I did to her…” He began, leaning back into his chair, looking almost soulless.

“I cut her out of my life after Nori died, I didn't want her to see her old man fall apart.” He explained slowly, his voice box scratchy, as if he was about to cry.

“She was my everything, Nori was. Keeping me on track, on time, without her I wouldn't know where I put my head at.” He chuckled sadly, sighing and closing his eyes, lost in the memory of his wife.

“But when she wasn't around anymore, so many things fell to the wayside. Including our daughter…” He voice was almost a whisper but N could still pick up every word. He wasn't sure where this was going…

“That's no excuse for what I've done.” He finished, seemingly steeling himself. He cleared his throat, and trained his eyes on N.

“You have been there for her in every way I wasn't, and I'll always be grateful for that. I know my daughter is too, with the way she talks about you.”

“Uh, she talks about me?” He felt himself blushing, turning away from Khan for a moment so that he wouldn't notice. He wasn't sure he was entirely successful however.

“When she talks.” Khan chuckled.

“So you aren't planning to adopt?” He reiterated, looking much more relaxed in front of the disassembly drone than before.

“I… no.” Why did he sound so uncertain? He was only 19, he surely wasn't so attached already, was he?

“You don’t sound sure.” Khan pointed out, and N shook his head.

“I live in a tower of corpses.” He said with a tone of seriousness, taking what Mrs. Rayn said earlier to heart. He just hadn't thought anything about it, he was so used to it, but now it was starting to make him question if he or V even needed to be there.

“Right, I'd almost forgotten…” Khan looked slightly taken aback before nodding, motioning to Uzi's bedroom door.

“Didn't mean to keep you so long, go on, make her happy.” He smiled, and N couldn't help but think he meant more than just spend time with her much more.

Next ->

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 9[Bonus] : A Reasonable Response

I was bored. Have some of these :33

[𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 10, 9:47 ℙ𝕄, 𝔻𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖-ℂ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣]

A week and a few days has passed and they finally found Him.

Dante tossed his cigarette away and chuckled as he heard the subtle footsteps coming from the shadows behind him. "Batman..." He tilts his head and glaces behind him where he saw Batman from afar with Robin by his Side.

Batman was way cautious now unlike before when he presumed Dante as a normal Civilian. "... You... What are you... Dante Jamie Masters." Batman stayed in place as Dante fully turned his body to face the two vigilantes.

"Dan is just fine and that's quite rude yk? Calling me a What instead of a who but it's still a logical question I suppose. How do I word this. I'm... Half-Dead I suppose?" Dante laughed out softly. Batman furrowed his brows and Dante raised his hands slightly. "I'm serious Big Bat. I suppose since you're the JL I can trust you.... Or unless.... You're just like the GIW?" Dante's eyes flickered Green and Red As the headlamps of the streets flickered with him going dark for a moment before turning back on.

Dante was nearer Batman now but Batman did not flinch. "What's the GIW." Batman merely asked as Robin got closer to Batman's back, essentially hiding himself and Batman keeping him closer intentionally to protect him.

"Ghost Investigation Ward, also known as Guys In White Back in good ol' Amity part, Illinois. They don't Investigate those Ripoff Men in Black motherfuckers. They categorize us... Ecto-beings as non sentient people.... As you can tell we have no mercy for Humans. In fact I could destroy this world if I ever wanted! But... It's a good thing my baby brother exists doesn't he?" Dante laughed as he backed off Batman who was more Uneasy now.

"You know, we're sentient too. We have emotions. Yet they made a law against us so that they could experiment on us. Maybe have passed and destabilized... If the JL ever sides with those bastards... I won't be so merciful." Dante turned around and lit another cigarette.

"Danny likes the JL, he likes humans. He's half one anyways... Short to say that... He's the only reason why we haven't waged war in this stupid realm. Your realm is lucky Big Batsy.... Now don't bother me unless you've done something actually beneficial to my cause... And besides.... Scarecrow Deserved it." The lights flickered again and Dante was gone.

"B..." Robin looked at an uneasy Batman, he was thinking deep, "Let's go." Batman decided the safest option is to leave Dante alone for now Because of the unknown potential of what Dante could do it's still at the very least in some sort of... Chains holding him back..

Holding "ecto-beings" back... He needs to Investigate more about this... Laws and 'GIW' organization. He doesn't like the sound of it, especially since it might just be going against the Meta-Protection Rights.

[𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 10, 10:00 𝙿𝙼, ��𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢]

Jason took a deep breathe before speaking out as Dante Hugged him tightly. "Honestly, that was hot-" Jason blurted out unexpectedly as Dante Buried his face on Jason's Chest.

".... Yeah...?" Dante chuckled and Jason nodded feeling his cheeks flush up even more, Damn is this Big Cryptid Half-Dead Possibly Soon to Be boyfriend of his both very threatening or a Big Damn Golden Retriever.

Dating this big man has been a ride for Jason,

Eventually leading to them having their 'first night' at Jason's apartment. 'Damn am I freaky like that??' Jason thought to himself. "So you really did kill Scarecrow..." Jason said and plops on the couch and Dante followed suit.

"Yep" Dante confirms emphasizing the pop of the 'P' , "The Timothy Guy has been subtly questioning me about it, he says he doesn't plan on telling B out of Spite Apparently. He says as he adjusts his body and Puts his head on Jason's Lap. "Huh. Replacement got his priorities straight" Jason said as he turned on the TV.

"Danny's getting better... He should be back home soon and I'll be finally sane again and he can finally hopefully probably get his life straight and human like again as he's always wanted." Dante sighed in relief, his eyes softening. "Hopefully Bat gets the hint and dismantle that organization that makes my brother illegal.... I won't hesitant to kill anyone who tries to hurt him..." Dante huffs as he sits back up.

Dante hugs Jason and Jason just lets himself melt in the Big Man's Arms. Dante takes a picture for fun and Posts it on his Page. Well. Why?

To brag about his beautiful boyfriend.

Dante kisses Jason's Forehead, Jason's still adjusting to this cryptid man and the pits slowly silencing further more because of this guy. He makes Jason Calm and Jason Makes Dante Calm the Way Danny does as well.

[Next Chapter will be Bat-Fam Centric sort of :33 , I just wanted to write this cuz I'm bored as shit.]

Enjoy <33

[fetishfairytales2]

The Secretary, Pt. 1 (Story)

When Chloe didn't show up to Brandi's birthday bash, I decided it was time to bring the party to Brandi's office. Sure, Chloe was the girl Brandi cheated on me with, but honestly I just felt sorry for the poor gal. If she could be fooled into thinking my little sweet sissy was a real man? Well, that girl had bigger problems! No, I need to introduce their former colleagues, especially Chloe, to my new and improved Brandi. I wanted to show off my little project, and I knew some people in the office would be the perfect audience!

As for Brandi's boss, Charles, that tall, dark, and handsome hunk of a man… let's just say we have a mutual understanding. We used to flirt when Brandi was still living a lie as a man, but now? Let's just say I had to put in some "extra work" during our private negotiations in his office to ensure Brandi could keep working remotely. It's all about using my charms, and Charles has certainly seen my charms, if you know what I mean! She dodged the humiliation of seeing her coworkers at her birthday party, but my sissy slut was not going to get that lucky twice! No, no, no!

As I drove over, I schemed, knowing this was gonna be fun! My little sissy Brandi was strapped into her car seat, helpless, wearing the cutest outfit ever. She looked adorable in her pink frilly skirt that barely covered her diapered ass, a white crop top with "Baby Girl" in glittery letters, and white knee-high socks with pink bows. But the accessories… Princess Brandi deserved some bling! I had her wearing this cute little bib that said, "Daddy's Little Girl," her penis pacifier, which was gagging her, tied tightly with a cute satin ribbon. The glittery pink sash that read "Birthday Babe" was the perfect touch! When I pulled into the near-empty parking lot, I burst out laughing. "Oh look, Brandi, there he is!" I teased, seeing my sissy squirm in the rearview mirror. "Mr. Charles, always the early bird. How lucky that he's still in his car!" I adjusted my the top of, very short, very tight black dress, making sure my tits were on full display, no bra necessary of course. Charles had seen me naked a million times by now, but I wanted to make a good impression! I stepped out of the car with a sway of my hips, letting the door slam shut. That got Charles' attention, for sure!

I strutted my stuff over to Charles' car, and I could practically feel his eyes burning a hole through my dress. He rolled down his window, eyes wide, like he wanted to fuck me right then and there. "Damn, Heather, you lookin' fine!" I giggled, leaning over to give him an eyeful of my cleavage. "Girl, you know what you're doing. Ain't you supposed to be at home with your man? Usually, you're visiting me in the afternoon!" God I hope Brandi could hear this. Charles stepped out of the car and twirled me around, whistling when he spotted the g-string peeking out from under my dress. "Well, well, Miss Heather. What's the occasion?" he asked, heading towards the door. I couldn't wait to show him my little surprise!

"Oh, Mr. Charles, could you be a gentleman and hold the door for me? I need to get my little girl out of the car," I purred, batting my eyelashes. With a confused shrugged, Charles obliged, watching as I opened the trunk and pulled out a massive pink stroller which had a ton of straps attached. I wheeled it over to the back seat, giving Charles a wink and leaned into the car. “Let’s go girlie,” I laughed tightened the ribbon securing Brandi's pacifier. "Come to Mommy, sweetie," I lifted my precious cargo out of the car and plopped her down into the stroller. I grinned down at my sissy, taking my time to strap her in securely. Her eyes widened as she realized where she was, and I knew that any second now, the waterworks would start. Seeing Charles' shocked expression as he realized it was Brandi in the stroller was fucking hilarious. He looked disgusted. I just grinned and acted casual, slinging the diaper bag over my shoulder and pushing my little sissy's stroller proudly, right past him and into the building. "She's my sweet widdle princess, Brandi!" I cooed and winked at the stud still standing in the doorway. "You coming, big boy?" Brandi’s boss was going to follow me to his office. Men are so easy. As we stepped into Charles' office, I laughed at how quiet he still was. The whole elevator ride up, this chiseled smoke show of a guy just stared at Brandi, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this diapered sissy was his former employee. He had no problem fucking me behind Brandon’s back, so let’s see how he felt about fucking me in front of Brandi’s face! “Let me just get her all situated,” I laughed as I pushed the stroller into the center of the room. “Okay girlie,” I grinned, leaning over, and whispering to my crying little sissy bitch, "Stop your fucking whining, Brandi. You know Mommy's in charge, and whatever I say goes." I giggled, seeing the fear and desperation in her eyes as she hyperventilated under her gag. "Now, be a good girl and let Mommy plan our little show for Charles here."

Charles was almost cute with his concern, asking; “what did you do to…him?” He’d forget he cared real quickI just ignored his silly question and got to work. Unstrapping my little sissy from the stroller, I pulled Brandi to her feet, letting those cute little pampers show. Then, I turned my attention back to Charles, strutting towards him and running my hands over his shoulders. I could feel Brandi's eyes on us as I smiled and looked back at her. Brandi was going to watch all of this, whether she liked it or not. Leading Charles over to his desk, I giggled at his confusion. "Damn, girl, you're a freak," he said, but I just shook my head and pulled his chair out

"Have a seat, Mister Charles," I purred, pushing him down into the chair with a giggle. Turning back to my little sissy, I snapped my fingers and ordered, "Get your ass over here, now! And stop that fucking crying, you're ruining your makeup." I loved seeing the fear in Brandi's eyes as she stood there, sobbing and shaking. "You have three seconds to get that pathetic ass over here, or I'm coming to get you," I warned, hands on my hips. "1…2…" Before I even finished counting, Brandi was waddling over in those stupid diapers, knowing better than to keep Mommy waiting. "Down, bitch," I demanded, pointing to a spot in front of Charles' desk.

I smiled at the chiseled hunk of a man, and then turned my attention to my little princess. "You better behave, Princess Pampers," I cooed, reaching into the diaper bag and pulling out the cutest hot pink metal handcuffs. I locked Brandi's arms above her head to the handle of a desk drawer, ensuring she was stuck there, unable to escape. Her boss just sat there, staring at the sight of his former employee, now my diapered sissy, sucking on a pacifier, helpless and exposed. I straddled Brandi's outstretched legs, bending over the desk so that Charles had a perfect view of my ass and my little sissy's terrified face just inches below it.

I was feeling extra playful, shaking and grinding against the desk. I lifted my dress, showing off my lacy black g-string and my perfect ass. Charles' eyes almost fell out of his head! I giggled, playing with the fabric and teasing him by pulling the underwear deeper into my ass crack. "So, whatcha think?" I asked with a cute smirk. Charles was almost drooling now.! Brandi was making some sad whimpering noises, but I just ignored the poor thing…for now. "You like this ass, Charles, don’t you?" I teased, shaking it playfully. "But the real question is, you wanna hit this?" I winked, pulling my skimpy panties aside to give him a quick peek. Charles just nodded, all tongue-tied. I mean, we'd done it on my desk a million times, but he was acting like it was all brand new! God men are too easy.

I was getting so turned on, I started rubbing my clit through my panties. I mean, why the hell not? Might as well give Charles the full show, right? "Mmm, if you wanna own my pussy, first you gotta own this pussy!" I moaned, grabbing my little sissy Brandi by her bleach-blonde ponytail and yanked her head up to look her boss in the face. Her muffled screams and pleading behind that cutie pacifier cock gag was music to my ears, and I just giggled with delight. "That's right, girlie pop, you're part of the fun," I beamed down at Brandi, feeling so fucking hot. "You're not just gonna sit there and watch me fuck your boss. Oh no, sissy slut, you're getting in on this action too!"

Charles was, like, totally into it, which was a little surprising. I thought he’d put up a little bit more of a fight before he turned on his former employee. Nope! He practically pounced on me, and I wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally stepped on Brandi's dumb sissy face he got to me so fast! That would've been hilarious! Charles grabbed my hips and pulled me close, his hand sliding down to my pussy. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he growled, "What do you want me to do, baby? I’m gonna fuck you so good.." Then, he smacked my ass! Damn, it stung so good, and I could feel my pussy getting even wetter. Charles didn't wait for an invitation; he just took control like the real man he is. He pushed my hand away and started rubbing my clit with his skilled fingers, slow and steady. Mmm, he knew exactly what he was doing, and I was loving it!

"What do you wanna do to you and your little bitch?" he teased, pulling my hair playfully and biting my ear. "You own you both, hmm slut?" I moaned softly, totally unable to resist him. I was, like, putty in his hands! I was even bucking my hips like a naughty girl. And Brandi, poor thing, was just trapped there, listening to her Mommy being such a whore for a real man. "I'm gonna make you both scream my name, baby," Charles chuckled, full of confidence. "You two are mine. You’re both going to call me Sir now." His fingers moved faster, and I could feel myself getting weaker in the knees. Damn, he was good! I loved how he always took control fast!

I was moaning, feeling myself getting so turned on, like, wow! Even Conner never owned me like this, holy shit! "Ooh, fuck, sir," I screamed, almost begging for more. "Please, not yet. Let me just…" Charles turned me around quickly, kissing my neck and grabbing my hair. He even pulled my tits out of my dress! This man was hungry, and I could feel my knees shaking. I had to brace myself to regain control; damn, my clit was in charge for a second there! I pushed Charles back with a playful smile. "Nu-uh, not yet, sir!" I teased, guiding him to his chair and straddling his lap. "First," I grinned, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt and rubbing his chest, "I need to ask you for a favor. Then you can get your dick sucked all day, I promise!" I giggled, and it wasn't even a lie! Charles sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing I was up to something, but he didn't care. He was down for whatever at this point.

"I want you to call little miss intern, Chloe, into your office as soon as she gets in. Tell her it's important and she needs to clear her schedule. Do whatever you need to, I don't care, just get her in here." I winked at him. "Also, take off your pants. It's getting hot in here." I said with a smile. Now, I was back in control and God it felt good. He slid his pants off and sat back down, sissy’s eyes bulging when he saw what was hanging between Charles’ legs. God his cock was massive, I fucking loved it! "Oh, Sissy!" I cooed, smiling down at the pathetic sight of Brandi, tears pooling in those wide eyes of hers, snot streaking across her face. I just knew that wouldn't be the only mess decorating that cute baby cuck face of hers by the time I was done.

"Mommy wants to know, my widdle cucky, if you want to watch her sucking Sir's cock, hmm?" The shock of seeing me with her worst enemy was bad for Brandi, but know I was now fucking her boss too? Poor girl. She was shaking her head so har! It was so cute, the poor thing was in denial! "Oh, sweetie!" I giggled, feeling Charles' fingers pinching my nipples, making them hard just for him. "What you don't realize, my dumb sissy, is that Mister Charles and I have been fucking for months. Wondered why you've been allowed to work remotely all this time, being a stay-at-home baby cuck? Well, now you know, you silly, stupid girl!" I kissed Charles, feeling his tongue in my mouth and his hand pulling my hair. "This," I giggled, looking down at Brandi while my hands roamed Charles' chest, "is how Mommy's going to get you that promotion, little girl!”

Charles was all over me now, and I could tell he wanted more. "Promotion?" he asked, sounding intrigued as he sucked on my sensitive buds. I just smirked, knowing he'd love what I had to say. I leaned in, whispering my plan while practically pushing my tits into his mouth. His tongue and teeth on my nipples had me moaning, but I managed to explain how my little sissy Brandi would become his personal secretary. His hands gripped my ass, and then I felt them sneaking back into my panties. I arched my back and screamed when he fingered me again. God, he knew how to make me feel so damn good. "Tell me more about this new secretary of mine," Charles demanded, his fingers now playing with my clit. I whimpered and begged for more as I painted a picture of Brandi reporting to him daily, dressed in her sissy baby outfit, no spare diapers, plugged and gagged, and begging to be locked under his desk for the day. "Why do I need a sissy bitch under my desk?" Charles teased, his fingers working their magic on my clit while he pushed me closer to orgasm.

"Mmm, why don't you find out, baby?" I teased, climbing off Charles' lap and kneeling down next to the trapped Brandi, who was about to witness her cuckolding up close and personal. Charles laughed, a deep, sexy sound that filled the room, as he stood tall, his massive cock hard and throbbing, right in front of Brandi and me. "Watch closely, my widdle sissy bitch," I chuckled, reaching out to grasp Charles' dick. It felt so powerful in my hand, and I couldn't wait to taste it. I leaned in, my lips wrapping around the head of his cock, and I hummed in delight at the taste of his pre-cum as my tongue swirled around the tip. "Mmm, Sir's dick tastes so good, Brandi. So much better than your widdle clitty could ever hope to be!" I took him deeper, my lips gliding along his shaft, my mouth working hard to take his massive cock to the back of my throat. My hand stroked what my mouth couldn't reach, and I moaned with his cock buried in my throat, my eyes locking with Brandi's, seeing the tears welling up.

"I know you know how to do this, Brandi." I giggled around Charles' cock, looking directly into Brandi's eyes as I spoke, "I know you've practiced on Daddy's dick a million times. But, and shh, don't tell Daddy this," I paused, taking a breath and removing the monster cock from my mouth to playfully slap it across Brandi's face, "I think Sir here might be even bigger! So, you better learn how to take it like a good sissy!" My hand moved faster as I popped his cock back into my mouth, sucking greedily like it was a lollipop. "Bet you wish I would've sucked your dick like this, huh, widdle girl? Too bad it was too tiny to even find in your diaper!"

I just love when Charles takes control! I mean, feeling his strong hand on my head, pushing me down on his throbbing cock… it makes me feel so fucking good! He’s such a real man, he even held my head and was basically fucking my throat! Hearing him growl, "Fuck, slut, keep going!" made my pussy tingle. Like, oh my god, he was so dominant and demanding, ordering me to go faster, guiding my head up and down his massive dick. I get wet thinking about making him cum! And then, just as I was about to make Brandi's boss cum, right in front of her, there was a knock at the door. I might be a bit of an evil bitch, sure,, so I saw this as an opportunity for even more fun! I slowly took Charles' cock out of my mouth, teasing him right at the edge of his orgasm. The look on his face was priceless! I winked at him and mouthed for him to answer the door, promising to keep things fun. I gently gripped his throbbing cock, feeling its hardness and size. Holy crap, it was like the size of my arm! I bet Brandi was staring at it with her sad, tear-filled cucky eyes, realizing why she was in her Pampers while Charles was getting the royal treatment from me.

As Charles called out, "Who…is…it?" through gritted teeth, I smiled devilishly, knowing it was Chloe. I wanted to make this quick and fun, so I sped up my strokes, aiming to finish before our new friend arrived. Charles' cock was so big and veiny, and I could tell he was close the way it was twitching. It only took a few strokes for him to be gripping the desk, trying not to scream out loud. Just as he was about to explode, I directed his cock towards Brandi's pathetic little face and let a real man unload his massive cum loads all over her! It was like a fucking fire hose, I swear! Just load after load of cum landing on this poor, worthless little loser. Her cheeks, nose, and even in her hair, she was covered in cum! Her makeup was running down her cheeks and her lips and her tears were flowing again. I just knew snot wouldn’t be the only thing streaking her face today!

“Aww, see widdle Brandi, Mommy's got you a promotion!” I giggled as I gently wiped the excess jizz from my hands, onto her face. Charles let out a satisfied groan, all worn out and still pantless from our little playtime. I wrapped my lips around his cock one more time, loving the taste. Then like a proper lady, I stood up, straightened my dress, and helped him sit down. Pushing his chair gently up to him, I watched him down and groaned again. “Shh, I got this,” I giggled. There he was, my ex-boyfriend’s chiseled hunk of an alpha male boss, dazed from me blowing him, and naked from the waist down. His cock, covered in my saliva and his cum, was just inches from Brandi's gagged mouth. It was a sight that I'm sure Brandi would get used to, whether she liked it or not! As I quickly pulled my dress back over my tits, trying to act all casual and hide Charles' state, I called out; "come in!" to our little visitor. And, of course, who should it be but the lovely intern that Brandi started this whole adventure out by cheating on me with, but Chloe! I put on my brightest smile and greeted her with a cheerful and peppy; "hi, girl! You must be Chloe! I've heard so much about you!"

To Be Continued.

[nonotnolan]

The Great Gym Shift

Day 15 of life after the body swapping incident that affected downtown Washington DC, and life was still weird as shit.  Some people were calling it the Great Shift-- a government cover-up for a science experiment gone wrong.  I don’t think a two mile radius really deserves a “Great” moniker but I had to admit it was catchy.  Others were calling it a terrorist bioweapon meant to cause havoc across the nation’s government.  That did seem possible, but the terrorists had terrible aim if that was the case.

A few people even said it was a plan to put key politicians into younger, healthier bodies, but... I know for a fact that one isn’t true.  I was there at ground zero when the swap occurred, working as a personal trainer at the gym.  All those desirable bodies, mine included, went to some of the most pathetic white collar workers you could imagine.  Whatever happened, it was definitely an accident.

It’s been a month, and I still haven’t gotten used to my reflection.  I hope I never do, to be honest.  The government is working on getting this whole mess resolved, and I can only hope it will be sooner rather than later.  I’ve never had hair this long, and I am in desperate need a of a haircut.  Since it’s not my body, I’d have to fill out a requisition form, and I keep hoping it won’t come to that.  

One of the first things the Government did was send in the National Guard to put everyone affected into a quarantined hotel area, and then they started drowning us in regulations and paperwork.  I’m still working as a personal trainer... only now most of my clients are lazy office drones.  Those desirable bodies I mentioned?  I’m in charge of making sure their new owners keep them in shape.  I’m slowly losing my sanity.

“Mitch!  What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” I said, walking out into our shared kitchen.  Uncle Sam was putting us up in some very nice accommodations, I had to admit, but my clients-turned-roommates left a lot to be desired.

“C’mon Grady, it’s Saturday,” he said, as if that was supposed to be an answer.  I kept starting at him until he continued.  “Saturday is my self-care day, and today that means Netflix and cookies.  I don’t see what the big deal is...”

“Absolutely not,” I said, holding out my hand.  “Give me those, that is way too many calories for one serving.  We’re sharing those with the whole floor.”  He rolled his eyes and sighed at me, but at least he obeyed me.  I can’t help but feel self-conscious bossing all of these men around, especially when they’re large enough to beat me to a pulp if they knew how to leverage their strength.  The real Mitch was a lanky college intern who had no idea how to build or maintain muscle mass.  Russ would’ve had a heart attack if he was here to see even half the things Mitch wanted to do in that body.

As I walked the plate of cookies out to the common area, I couldn’t help but notice that Larry was still sitting at his room’s computer desk, shirtless and surrounded by a few wadded tissues.  Gross, but... I’ve seen Larry’s old body.  I can’t entirely blame the old pervert.  “Please tell me you didn’t stay up all night watching porn again.”

He just smiled at me, his bloodshot eyes telling me everything that I needed to know.  “So what if I did, Grady, it’s Saturday.  The fitness schedule you made for me says I don’t have to work out today, and a sleep schedule isn’t a part of the body cohabitation contract we all signed.  As long as I still eat three healthy meals today, you can’t make me do anything.  So how about giving me some privacy?”  He was right, of course.  Larry was one of my most frustrating clients, because he knew exactly how to do the bare minimum and nothing more.  Tana was one of the gym’s biggest over-achievers, so seeing his body do a complete 180 had been quite the adjustment.

I knew better than to engage with him right now-- better to save my strength for fights that I would be able to win.  I set the cookies down in our shared kitchen, waved at a few of the other guys, and retreated back to the bedroom I shared with one other man.

Simon smiled at me, and I could feel my frustrations starting to lift away.  “Good morning, Grady.  Rough start?” he asked, looking up from his book.  Simon was a licensed psychologist who happened to be at a nearby Industry Convention when the Great Shift happened, and I was so glad to have his assistance dealing with all of the heated emotions that boiled over during the aftermath.  Furthermore, Simon had ended up in my body.  It was a relief to know that my body was being controlled by someone responsible, even if seeing myself each day came with its own set of weird situations.

"You have no idea,” I said, shaking my head.  “Or rather, you have an exact idea, because you’ve also had to deal with those guys.  I don’t suppose you would be up for some... stress release?” I asked, peeling off my tank top and tossing it onto the floor.

He laughed, quickly setting aside his book and his glasses.  “In this body?  Always!”  Was it weird that I was having sex with my own body?  Maybe, but honestly, our daily hookups felt like one of the least weird things about this whole mess.  I always knew I was an attractive man, and I’ve always been attracted to anyone who keeps themselves healthy, regardless of gender.  Presumably that’s how Simon now felt-- I know that ever since I’ve been in this new Twink body, I have only felt attraction for hairy men.  Sexual attraction seemed to follow the body, not the inhabitant.

“Do you ever worry that we’re complicating things?” Simon asked.  “For whenever the government is able to switch everyone back into the right bodies, I mean.  They’ve told our loved ones that we’re in quarantine, but... how can we go back to normal life when this is all over?”  I understood where he was coming from-- his real body was at least twenty years older, and while he didn’t like sharing too much about his life, I’d gotten the impression he had a wife and maybe a few grandkids waiting for him back home.

Simon clearly had a tendency to overthink everything, and I was now used to offering friendly advice while his warm load was still inside of me.  “Honestly, I think we’re dealing with a stressful situation, and we’re all just coping however we can.  There’s nothing wrong with two consenting adults having sex.  And I don’t know about you, but... if I didn’t try to get a wide range of experiences inside of this temporary body, I think I’d regret the missed opportunity forever.”

He smiled at me.  “I suppose you’re right,” he said, as he sipped on cheap hotel coffee.  “’In sickness or in health’ wasn’t really meant to cover something so impossible.  And I’d rather seek forgiveness than forever ponder what might have been.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, smiling back at him.  I think we both knew it was a bit selfish, but how else could we be expected to process these strange new desires?  Yeah, I guess I felt a bit guilty having sex with someone other than my girlfriend back home, but... when else would I ever get an opportunity to have sex with myself?  I don’t think there is a person alive who could blame me.

[bitchyblkqueer]

As someone who follows Jeremy Adams' press, it's clear that he was bothered and upset by the number of people saying Hal was being a creepy weirdo to Carol in the first few issues of GL 2023. even the older white male fans were like, "this is uncomfortable".

it's one of Many Many things that's made me doubt the competency of DC editorial (understatement of the century i know). Someone should have clocked this in the scripting phase. and I'm disappointed with the overall storyline in the comic. it looks like they're leaving behind the "Hal adjusting to life on earth" idea AND the psychology of Hal creating kilowog with his ring. DC has also famously fired more than half of their editors in the last 5-6 years.

but back to Adams - it must be difficult for him to receive that feedback, especially since he's said he behaved similarly with women he's dated. no one likes being misunderstood, and they definitely don't want to hear that they've acted like a creepy weirdo.

which explains the OOC Barry dialogue in GL 2023 #4. it's a sorry sight.

as readers, we're supposed to think, "If Barry Allen is saying it, of course it's okay!!"

fwiw i am all for a "you're single until you're married" mentality, but Barry definitely would not be lmao. and i cant even get into how gross this is towards Carol. what about what she wants?? barry is a lot of things, but he's consistently not misogynistic.

sidenote - you are not writing hal & barry well if they're not coming off as more than a little in love with each other. hal needs to randomly say the most romantic thing you've ever read or else it's not a successful team-up. and adams co-wrote that lego flash movie where barry keeps a photo of him and hal on his nightstand. so now we all know to thank the other guy i guess

i would have been all for adams bringing back a more silver age hal, which i thought was the intention. but leave the sexism where it's at. bring back more silly scifi plots or hal getting knocked out or ITTY!

and if for some reason you intended for hal to act like a misogynist, it could have been interesting to watch him deal with the changing social customs since he's been off-world for so many years. but i doubt anyone working on the comic would be able to give that storyline the depth it deserves. anyway

[the-fiction-witch]

... I've killed an angel

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader + Jack X Belle (Dodgerfox)

Rating Sweet + SAD!

I stood at my small stall in the Port Victory Street doing some business with the people in town. The sweet sun beat down harshly, as usual, enjoying the pleasant day. 

"Morning  Y/n," I heard,

I glanced up and saw Doctor Jack Dawkins as he headed over to the stall, in his dusty brown shoes, faded brown trousers, washed out and tattered white shirt with strained cuffs on his sleeves poking out his jacket sleeves, his blue textured waistcoat, his straggly green tie tucked into it, his purple patterned jacket and his black velvet hat on his head. He smiled and gave me a wave as he made his way over. 

I blushed hard and adjusted myself, fixing my green cotton dress brushing off some dust and dirt from the day, and pulling my braid of  Y/H/C hair over my shoulder a little. 

"G-Good Morning, Jack," I greeted with a warm smile, 

"You alright?" he asked warmly,

"I'm alright, everything okay with you?"

"Same as usual, You coming to the cat and the bagpipes tonight? I need my back up especially with Darius still sniffing around." 

"I don't know I have a lot of work to do,"

"Aww work's more fun than cards with me is it? Come on  Y/n I need you, Angel," He said as he came close and fixed some of my  Y/H/C hair from my face, "Please," He pouted giving his pouty puppy eyes, 

"Course, how did seven sound?"

"Perfect, I'll see you later then." He said starting on his way but he turned back, "Actually."

"Yes, Jack?" I asked excitedly, 

"I think you know what I'm gonna ask," he smiled wickedly, 

"what do you need?" I jokingly rolled my eyes, 

"You think you could get your hands on some beeswax?"

"Why?" 

"Hey! That happened to the no judgment part of our deal?"

"Alright, I'll see what I can do, when do you need it by?" 

"Whenever you have time  Y/n," he cooed and headed off on his business. 

I blushed and got on with my work making a note of what he wanted. 

I smiled as I headed to the cat and the bagpipes to play cards with Jack, Darius and whoever else was there tonight, I saw Jack waiting outside so I headed over with a smile. 

"Evening Jack,"

"Evening, you seem chipper tonight?"

"I like playing cards with you," I smiled, "Ohh here I found you some," I said handing over the beeswax candles I found for him out of my pocket, 

"Ahh, you are an angel,  Y/n," He smiled happily taking them and adding them to his pockets, kissing my forehead. 

"What do you need them for anyway?"

"Hey, you know our deal. I don't ask how you find stuff you don't ask why I need it." 

"Alright fine, come on let's get going." I encouraged going to head inside but I noticed he was looking, I thought for a moment that he was staring at me and I blushed hard feeling so giddy with joy to see him look at me with such sweet loving eyes, "Ohh, Jack... You're staring?" I giggled,

"Hum? Ohh uhh yeah I uhhh I guess sorry she uhh she's just -" He explained shaking himself out but immediately returning, 

"She?" I asked turning on my heels to see the busy street with various people heading away for the day I saw a sight. 

Across the street, a woman stood in a beautiful impressive red plaid dress, with sweet blonde curls and a lady-like hat and parasol, she walked on the arm of the governor as they went about some business. 

He was looking at her, not at me. 

And I felt my heart shattering to see him looking the way I had always wished for him to look at me, but he didn't look at me. I have been standing and waiting by his side for so long but now he looks at a girl he doesn't even know the name of that he sees briefly across the street. 

"shall we go then?"

"Yeah, Yeah I uhh I'll meet you in there okay," He said as he walked away heading down the street,

"Jack-" I began but he was already gone, 

I sighed and headed in sitting at the table and starting the card game without him, I played a few games wondering and worrying where he was until finally, Jack arrived, "Hey, You finally joining us?"

"Yeah, sorry." He said sitting down beside me and we started a new game, 

"You okay?"

"Yeah, fine." He answered as he took his lucky coin from his pocket and began his usual trick of tossing the coin between his fingers as we plaid, 

"What did you have to do?"

"Nothing  Y/n," he chuckled and we got on with our game, 

"...Alright," I sighed,

I got on with my work at my stall doing my business for the morning,

" Y/n," Jack greeted as he approached,

I smiled widely as I hadn't seen him in a few days odd as I was used to seeing him daily, "Morning Jack,"

"I have a little job for my angel." He smirked leaning on my stall, 

"Oh?"

"I need you to go do a little whisper searching, a little recon, a little digging for me,"

"Digging? around what am I digging? Are you trying to find out Sneed's secrets again? cause I keep telling you he's a very boring man he doesn't have interesting dirt to dig though," I chuckled, 

"No, No not Sneed." He said, "Belle."

"Humm?"

"Lady Belle Fox. I want you to... do a little digging for me."

"For what exactly?"

"I wanna know... What she's like, what she is interested in, her little secrets and such like, Come on your good at this stuff." 

"I will have a dig but why do you-"

"You don't judge that's the deal." He said, "Come on, Please" he pouted,

"Alright, when do you need it by?"

"As soon as possible." He winked, "You're an angel, I'll see you soon." He said before he headed off, 

I didn't like doing this but I knew I wanted to do as Jack had asked me, I snuck my way to the governor's estate in my cloak. I found my way into her room and dug around for information about her but I didn't need to dig for long her room reminded me of Jack's, filled with surgical diagrams, and equipment, Belle's room showed her lack of care for art, for music the often frivolous lady things, she was focused, driven, wrote to surgeons overseas, kept medical journals of her experiments.

... all of it froze me to my core, to think of how she and Jack would be so perfect together. 

How much he would surely love her.

I got what I needed and headed to the hospital where I found Jack in his room waiting for me, 

" Y/n!" He perked up getting to his feet from his bed where he had been laid with his waistcoat and tie gone, "Did you dig?"

"I... I did."

"Well, what can you tell me?"

For a moment I considered lying to him, telling him lies about her to try and convince him to completely stay away from her but I couldn't bear to do so. I told him the truth, I told him everything he wanted to know and he couldn't be happier. He held my arms and kissed my forehead.

"You are an angel." He smiled, "Thank you,  Y/n,"

"You're welcome," I nodded,

"I need to get to work then," he smiled,

"I uhhh I'll let you get on then," I said trying to hide my feelings forcing them away and forcing myself to leave before my pain overflowed.

I got on with my work as usual on my stall, I missed Jack more than anything but I hadn't seen him in weeks now. Not even in passing, but I couldn't bring myself to go and see him especially without a reason to. I felt like... He'd abandoned me. 

When I packed my stall for the day I noticed a book in my box, I was meant to give it to Jack a while back when he asked me to find it for him and I never did give it to him. So I packed up and headed to the hospital book in hand, I went up to his room but I found it empty, so I went to his ward and again found it empty, I checked the theatre but still empty, I was confused wondering if perhaps he was out. But as I wandered the halls and corridors at last I found him, in the morgue cutting open a body, with Belle beside him. She looked beautiful in her black dress their hands connected and bloody as he guided her and aided her, his head inches from her shoulder. 

"Somewhere in there is how we think, and feel," she said, As she watched the surgery they worked on, "And Love,"

"And die,"

"It's so much more than plumbing"

he smiled to her giving her this look of utter devotion, the look I had always wanted, "Oh-  Y/n."

"Hi, Jack,"

"what are you doing here?"

"I uhh I have that book, you were looking for," I said stepping closer fixing my hair and offering him it,

"Ohh! right! course. Sorry, I forgot I even asked you too look for it for me." he laughed, "Thanks." he said, almost cold, No angel, no kiss, nothing. 

"Y-you're welcome," I nodded trying to fight back tears as I turned around and headed out, 

"Right on to the next thing Milady." He said to her, 

I began to walk out and by the time I was at the hospital entryway, I was balling tears flooding down my face and my feet were causing me to run, bursting out the door and quickly finding a wall to try and hyperventilate. 

That's it. 

I've been replaced. 

I had been doing my best to deal with everything, but it wasn't going well, I hadn't seen Jack in ages, he hadn't come to see me at all and I missed him so badly, I knew I couldn't wait anymore I had to go and tell him the truth, tell him how I felt. So I slipped on my cloak and headed through to the hospital I checked his ward, he wasn't there, I checked his room, he wasn't there, I went to check the theatre but the door was locked that's odd? so I went around into the prep room door and thought there to go in that way I stopped short. 

I looked through the prep room glass window into the theatre, and I saw Sneed on the table knocked out for his surgery. Lady Belle on one side of the table, Jack on the other. The surgery hadn't begun yet so I planned to rush in but- 

Before I could even move I saw this moment in slow motion, as they leaned in, leaning over the table and even if it broke my heart into a million pieces I saw as they're lips met and they kissed. 

My mouth fell open and I wanted to scream but no sound came out. 

Tears flooded down my face.

I turned and ran out of the hospital onto the darkening streets, through my tears and broken heart I accepted it, finally and completely. 

He loved her, and I was nothing. 

I went home and I cried for what felt like weeks, unable to even leave my bed. 

Slowly I accepted that I had to get on, make money, and pay my way, even with a shattered heart. I tried to rationalize it by feeling happy, that Jack had found someone he could love so utterly, that he and Belle were happy together, they'd be together in love, get married, have a house with surgical equipment everywhere, little blonde doctor children and live a happy life. Even if that meant I wouldn't get what I wanted, even if I wasn't a part of this life he was to build. 

I got on with work at my stall when I saw a sight that... even after this time still brought me such pain, Jack walking arm in arm with Belle down the street he barely noticed me the two walking past like I was nothing, just another market girl. But he stopped,

" Y/n?"

"Hi Doctor Dawkins," I answered part of me hoping he wouldn't have to stop, 

"Hi, Sorry I haven't seen you Everything has been so busy at the hospital."

"That's alright,"

 "You know I uhh I'm going out for cards tonight, if you wanna come?"

"No, I uhhh... I'm busy tonight."

"Oh, Really? you never miss cards come on."

"I really can't I'm sorry,"

"Shame. Alright then. But as I see you I do have a little job for you."

"Ohh I uhh I don't do that sort of thing anymore."

"wh-what?" he chuckled,

"I don't do that sort of thing anymore Doctor."

"You don't?"

"Jack we should be going we have to be back at the hospital for Mr Martin's amputation," Belle spoke up,

"Yes, just one second." he told her, "You really don't do it anymore? but it's always been your little job? You're my angel? and what's all this doctor stuff? what's going on with you?" 

"Y-You should really get going."

"...Alright, we're not done talking about this." He says the two heading off, 

I had hoped it was over, that he would simply forget. But I saw as they walked away heading to the hospital, I saw a black carriage the horses going crazy, the carriage heading through the town on a course. But I couldn't let it happen I bolted across the market and shoved Jack and Belle out of the way hearing them both complain as they hit the dirt. And I screamed as my body hit the carriage and the earth. 

" Y/n!" I rushed over as the carriage hurried off, I picked her up in my arms seeing her bloody and her body broken, her green dress stained with her blood and the muck of the carriage wheels, her  Y/H/C hair cascading around her, her pale skin even more so than usual, her Y/C/E eyes looking up to the meet the blue sky. " Y/n,  Y/n," I muttered,

"she- she pushed us out the way," Belle spoke up as she came close,

"She pushed us... she saved us..." I muttered already tears welling up, "Get a cart we have to get her to the hospital now!"

She nodded and quickly fetched one so I picked  Y/n up and carried her in setting her in the back, 

"You're gonna be okay, it's all okay, I'm gonna fix you, It's all gonna be okay angel I promise," I told her, 

She couldn't speak, she could barely look at me, we rushed her to the hospital and into the theatre where both Belle and I worked attempting to piece back together her mangled body being careful not to damage her further having given her a decent dose of morphia to dull the pain, 

"Jack..." Belle spoke up as she held  Y/n's neck and shoulder her pale skin purple, red and swelling by the moment, and I knew what the issue was,

"No. No. say it isn't so."

"... If we don't the bone will continue to pinch her jugular-"

"and it'll kill her." 

"But if we reset it-"

"We have a fifty-fifty chance we miss nicking the jugular which if we nick... she bleeds out and dies." I finished and she nodded, 

"what do we do?"

"...I... I don't know." 

"If we do nick it... can we sew it with surgery?"

"Not the jugular if we nick it she has two minutes maybe before she bleeds out or drowns in her blood. I'm fast I'm not that fast. not on sewing a jugular." I explained, 

"I-I'll give you a moment," she said heading out leaving  Y/n and me alone,

" Y/n,  Y/n.  Y/n angel please, please just open your eyes for me." I pleased her holding her head in my hands, she heard me and slowly opened her eyes staring at me with those Y/C/E orbs her breath harsh as she could barely deal with the pain. " Y/n, There is something we have to do, if I don't do it you'll die, but if I do... it's a coin toss if you'll survive. I-I can't make this decision on my own. I don't want to rush you but uhh time is an element here,"

"Jack..." her voice breathy her hand came to stroke my cheek, "I loved you."

"wh-what?"

"I loved you, from the first moment we met. I never was an odd job girl... I just did whatever you asked me no matter how foolish."

"You- You did that for me?"

"I did. Becuase I loved you, and I wanted to do whatever you asked to try... and make you look at me." she gasped, 

"If you loved me why have you been so distant?"

"Becuase I watched you fall for her."

My heart broke as she told me,

"I watched you fall for her, Love her, I watched her take up the place I dreamt of, I saw you look at her how I always wanted you to look at me."

"why didn't you tell me? if you had just told me we-"

"What?"

"We could have been together, I love you of course I love you, I've always loved you. You're  Y/n. My  Y/n. My odd job girl. My sweet sweet compainion, My Y/C/E eyes siren, My card partner. My- My angel." I explained through my tears, "If you had just told me we could... we could have been together."

"It's too late."

"It's not too late-"

"But I'm not her." she gasped, "and I can't replace her in your heart."

"But I love you..."

"And you love her, but you can't love us both." she said, "and you'd be happier with her-"

"You don't know that, you don't know that I wouldn't be a million times happier with you." 

"I can't make you choose between us, that isn't fair." she said, "...like this moment, there is nothing you can do, no choice you can make, without the risk of hurting one of us." 

"I don't want to hurt you, or her."

"I'm not making you. I'm letting you be happy."

"You can't make this decision for me."

"Please, Jack... Just let me go... you can't let me live in a world where I will never have the man I love,"

"what if I choose you? what if I pick you? We can get married, have a house, a family everything you've ever wanted, if I made you feel loved, if I told you how much I love my angel for the rest of our days,"

"Then that's not fair to her is it?"

"She's a lady she has a thousand suitors."

"But there not you. She's perfect. I knew that the moment I met her you couldn't give her up for me Jack."

"what if I want to. What if I want to give her up, to be with you?"

"I will not have her broken heart on my hands," she gasped, "I know that in this world I can't have what I want."

"I want you to have what you want. I want to love you, I want to be with you."

"Jack, please... don't make this harder." she pleaded, "let me go please, let me go and I'll be happy to know you're happy."

"You cannot ask this of me." I pleaded between tears, " Y/n, please. Angel. I love you, and I am a doctor both are reasons I can't just let you die in my arms."

"Please Jack," she begged, "Go, be with her, build a life with her, give her everything she has ever wanted, I ask only... for one kiss, and for you to hold me and look at me as I go, like I'm the only girl in the world."

"I-I will." I nodded even if it broke me apart, I held her close and kissed her sweet lips as I did I felt this horrible agony as I felt a firework a feeling I had never felt before, Belle might be perfect on paper but  Y/n gives me a spark I can't feel with anyone else. But it was too late. As I kissed her I did as she asked and I purposely reset the bone making sure I nicked her jugular immediately seeing the pain wash over her, watching her skin turn red the agnory in her eyes. I counted the seconds as I kissed her again, I stroked her cheek and I looked into her sweet eyes with the look of the purest and sweetest love I could give her, I looked at her as if we were all that mattered, all that existed. And she was all that I wanted. "I love you, I have always loved you, My sweet  Y/n, My Angel. I love you now. And I will love you until I am on the ground beside you." I whispered to her, "I will find you, in the next life, and I will show you all the love I should have given you in this one," as I watched the life leave her eyes and I held her in my arms, as I saw her into the next life. 

As soon as her heart stopped, I felt this agony, this crippling pain like my own heart was ripping apart, tears flooded down my face as I kissed her one final time her lips cold and the spark... gone. 

"Jack?" Belle spoke up as she had returned, she had seen what I had done and heard what I had said to  Y/n, her eyes teary. "What have you done," she whispered, 

"... I've killed an angel," I answered, 

[skzkiof]

find me;

ivantill, 4.1k, inspired by this post by @ivanttakethis Ivan returns - alive - after round 6 despite all odds but something is different about him. Wrong. Till is on his own to figure out what happened and how to fix it.

Till didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling – that wasn’t quite true; he had an idea. He was numb. He thought he’d been numb, before, but after watching Ivan die… now he knew what true numbness felt like.

He might not have expressed it enough, looking back. Just how much he appreciated having Ivan around. Maybe, he hadn’t even known yet how terribly empty this place would feel without him.

And now he would never get to tell him. He would never even get to talk to him again.

It was over, and frankly Till was too tired to keep fighting. It didn’t matter. His next opponent was Luka and he wasn’t naive enough to think he could win.

Strangely, he felt an odd sense of calm alongside the numbness. He was ready to go. He was ready to see if the aliens were truthful about this one thing, at least. Was there much of anything after death or just eternal darkness?

Nothingness?

Maybe that really would be better. To feel nothing. Be nothing.

Till heard a familiar bell; it was dinnertime. He curled up tighter, hugging his knees and closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry.

-

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he was finally jostled awake. He blinked, once, twice, eyes having a hard time adjusting to the brightness of day.

When he lifted his head, he was met with the face of a girl about his age, dark hair and dark eyes. Unassuming. He was pretty sure he’d seen her around once or twice. They’d never talked.

“I thought you might, um.” She was wringing her hands nervously. Till shouldn’t care. He had given up caring about anything, especially whatever she was struggling to tell him.

He sniffed. “If you have nothing to say, please go away.” He just wanted to go back to sleep. Sleeping was the only time he didn’t feel completely hopeless. At least in his dreams, he wasn’t alone.

“I know we haven’t talked much or anything,” she continued, speaking just a little too fast, “but I thought you might want to see this. You, um. You were close to him, right?”

She didn’t say his name. She didn’t need to.

Till didn’t even bother answering. He just blankly stared at her. Apparently, that was answer enough.

“You really need come see this,” she said again, this time with more urgency.

Till frowned. He should just ignore her. He didn’t want to entertain whatever game she was playing.

“I’m serious,” she was fidgeting again. “Please.”

He could’ve ignored her, but he didn’t. Even now, he supposed his curiosity had a way of getting the better of him. Standing up, he winced when his back cracked and his knees popped.

She smartly didn’t say anything and just led the way. Till followed slowly. It was only when she stopped abruptly that he finally looked up, barely avoiding running into her.

“Hey,” he barked. “Watch it!”

She stepped to the side, opening her mouth, probably to retort, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears.

There, in the middle of a small crowd, was Ivan.

He didn’t even know what to focus on first – his hair, brushed back with a small clip on the side to keep it out of his face. His clothes, pure white and pristine. The smile on his face, warm and sweet.

But none of that mattered, really. Nothing mattered but the fact Ivan was here.

Ivan was alive.

Till didn’t even wait to see if the girl had anything else to say; he rushed past her and joined the crowd, pushing people out of the way. Some of them glared at him, some yelled, but he didn’t care.

He needed to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He needed to know Ivan was real.

When he finally reached the center of the crowd, he let out a shaky breath and just stared. Ivan was really there, standing right in front of him with a confused tilt of his head and an unnervingly polite smile.

Then Ivan opened his mouth and asked possibly the dumbest question he could:

“Are you okay?”

Till felt anger rush to the forefront of his many conflicting emotions, red hot and burning. “Am I okay?” he repeated in disbelief, and suddenly grabbed the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Ivan blinked, but didn’t move to stop him. “You seriously think you can do all that and then just ask me if I’m okay?”

Ivan stared back at him with a familiar blankness before suddenly he was smiling, soft and kind, “I’m sorry,” he said, and Till couldn’t remember ever hearing him apologize, before. “I don’t know what I did but I assure you I didn’t meant to upset you.”

He reached up and gently touched Till’s hands, still clutching his collar.

“If you would let go, maybe we can go somewhere private and talk.”

Till blinked, once, twice, before suddenly letting go like he’d been burned, his hands curling into fists at his sides “You don’t know what you did?” he repeated, slowly, icily. “Is this some kind of sick joke to you?”

His heart was thumping in his chest too fast, too hard. He felt like he was struggling to breathe.

“I really don’t,” Ivan replied softly. It was unnerving, hearing him talk like that. “But I’m assuming I did something to hurt you, and if I did, I really am sorry.”

Till bristled, fists tightening. He could feel something wet in both palms of his hands; blood, maybe, from where his nails were digging too deep.

“You really don’t remember?” he asked, terrified of the answer.

Ivan smiled again; it was too sweet. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Okay.” Till swallowed, forced his hands to relax at his sides. “Okay.”

Without waiting for any kind of response, he turned and ran.

-

For a while, he isolated himself and just tried to figure out what had happened. Maybe some kind of head trauma? That would’ve explained the memory loss, maybe, but Ivan was acting like a completely different person.

Before he had seen Ivan again - before he had gotten confirmation he was still alive - he had gone over all the things he wanted to say to him, good and bad.

Now he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it. He avoided even crossing paths with Ivan for the first few days but then he realized something:

Ivan was avoiding him too. Not on purpose, it seemed, but somehow that realization was even more terrifying.

He used to do anything to get his attention - steal his things just to return them, start trivial fights, ask him to teach him about music (he never paid attention). Now he barely looked in his direction most days, too distracted with the handful of other contestants who were seemingly glued to his side.

Before, he hadn’t had any friends. Not for a lacking of trying - many people wanted to be friends with Ivan - but he had never even bothered trying to act interested.

Eventually they had stopped trying, of course, but now that had changed. It was like people could smell he was different, and they were right.

To make matters even worse, Till had overheard a few of Ivan’s conversations with some of the contestants. He wasn’t sure if Ivan meant it but when they would flirt, fluttering their eyelashes, pouting a little, Ivan would seem interested, smiling coyly.

That was possibly the most obvious sign something was very, very wrong.

Ivan didn’t do friends - not beyond what championship he had been able to forge with Till and Mizi, possibly Sua (before) - but he certainly hadn’t flirted with others.

He hadn’t even flirted with Till prior to their round, despite seemingly having some kind of feelings for him. Or maybe he had, but in unconventional ways. He certainly hadn’t been obvious about it.

(He wanted to talk to him - the real Ivan - understand what he really felt, but now he couldn’t. The Ivan of now apparently felt nothing for him.)

Could a head trauma do that? Till wasn’t educated in that kind of stuff; some of the others were, the way he was interested in music, but even they hadn’t had many chances to explore it with their limited resources. So when he asked, they simply apologized and said, honestly, “I don’t know. Maybe?”

He was grateful for the honesty but it had brought him no closer to figuring out what was going on, or how to reverse it (if that was even possible. He really hoped it was possible.)

-

Till finally reached a breaking point after Ivan won round 7.

(Since nobody had expected him to survive, and it was unprecedented, they had decided to add two new contestants to the lineup; one to go up against Till and one to go up against Ivan, extending the season to 9 rounds overall. The finale would make history as - for the first time - three contestants would go up against each other at once. Till really didn’t care about dissecting what that meant for them, in the future.)

Obviously he was glad he had won - he had been watching the broadcast with bated breath - but he had won by singing a new piece. Till felt an odd sense of comfort, hearing his voice again (maybe the only thing that hadn’t changed) but then he had started to pay closer attention to the lyrics.

And it was wrong. All wrong. Since when did Ivan sing of birds flying through clear blue skies, free and fearless? Of requited love, sweet and true?

It might’ve been his voice, but those weren’t his words. Something was wrong. Ivan was here, but he wasn’t.

Then finally Till made a realization. It was a working theory, of course, but at least it was a start.

-

It started with Till watching Ivan even closer (something he didn’t think was possible). He started to slowly notice other details that were wrong.

Just little things. Things that might not have been noticeable to other people. Like the way Ivan’s laugh was a little off (slightly too high-pitched compared to before). The way his eyes were brighter, now, but somehow lacking life at the same time.

Till realized he reminded him of a doll. Too happy. Too polite. Even Mizi - sweet as she was - hadn’t been nearly as perfect. It was unnerving.

Once - still testing his theory - Till had even spilled his soup on him during dinnertime. Just to see. Ivan had barely spared him a glance, a polite smile. “Don’t worry,” he had said before disappearing to change.

He returned with another white shirt. Laughed with everyone else at a joke that was objectively not funny.

That was when Till was certain he was on the right track. They had done something to him. It wasn’t surprising, in a way. They had experimented on Till many times before, after all, but this was different. This was Ivan; the pride and joy of the season.

It was risky to mess with him, but he supposed if it was that or his death, the aliens had weighed their options and decided this was the better outcome.

And truthfully, it had worked out for them. Ivan had gotten even more support than ever after his latest round; brands were lining up to work with him, he had a new interview being published almost every week.

But Till wouldn’t be so easily satisfied. Even if this Ivan was easier to deal with. Even if he smiled more. Till missed tussling and rolling around in the grass with him. He even missed the times Ivan would steal his things just to return them a few days later.

He missed Ivan, his friend, and possibly something more, one day. He still wasn’t sure; wouldn’t be until they could actually talk about what had happened on that stage. But either way, he would find a way to snap him out of this.

-

Easier said than done. Now it was hard to even get a moment alone with Ivan, seeing as he was always surrounded by people.

Finally Till did what he had to do (and he wasn’t exactly proud of it): he pretended to be hurt, and Ivan - this new version of him, at least - couldn’t resist the bait. He helped him to his room and stood there, seemingly unsure of what to do next. Till pretended to massage his ankle.

“Thank you,” he said, and a part of him meant it.

Whether or not this was the Ivan he knew, he still didn’t like him looking so lost. It was jarring, compared to the easy confidence he usually carried himself with. Before and after. The confidence had always been the one consistent thing across both versions of him, although it had certainly manifested in different ways.

Ivan smiled then, looking more sure of himself. That smile - bright and full as it was - still didn’t manage to quite reach his eyes. Till knew this was it. He had to take this chance and find out a way to reverse whatever they had done to him, if that was possible.

(It had to be; he didn’t know what he would do if it wasn’t.)

For now he just had to keep him here with him, separated from all the others.

“Can you sit with me for a second?” he asked, and Ivan didn’t even hesitate before joining him on the bed that felt more like a concrete slab with a blanket over it.

He even sat politely, hands together in his lap, back a perfectly straight line. He was still smiling. “Did you need anything else?”

Till hesitated for a moment, mentally scrambling for an excuse to keep him here longer. “My ankle really hurts,” he blurted, “even worse than before.” He paused, biting his lip, still thinking. Then he thought of it, the perfect excuse. “Could you maybe look at it?”

“I’m not sure I’d be able to tell you anything,” he replied despite already moving to the floor. Till watched, heart pounding in his chest, as Ivan gently touched his ankle, lifting his foot a little.

He should’ve prepared a bit more, maybe, because his ankle was perfectly fine. No bruising, no cuts. Still he winced, frowning. “It’s sore,” he said, pointing to a random spot. “Around here.”

Ivan nodded, softly running his fingers over the spot with pursed lips.

Till knew he should’ve been thinking more, formulating a plan. He couldn’t just keep Ivan here forever looking at his ankle, and he was no closer to finding out what the aliens had done (or how to reverse it.)

Until he saw it:

A ring, perfectly discreet, around Ivan’s finger. It wasn’t quite silver but an odd hue that nearly blended into the color of Ivan’s skin. Like he - or someone - hadn’t wanted others to notice it.

Till felt his heart beating a little faster. There was no way, right? Surely it couldn’t have been that easy. All these weeks - all this pain - had been caused by a ring?

“Your finger,” he said, voice thick. He hoped Ivan wouldn’t notice; he didn’t, seemingly, still focused on Till’s ankle. “Where did you get that ring?”

Now Ivan looked up. For a long moment he just stared before finally he blinked, once, glancing down at the ring around his finger. “It was a gift.”

Till nodded slowly. “From who?”

“I - ” Ivan stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he idly spun the ring around his finger. “I don’t quite remember, it seems.”

Till knew this was it. He was onto something. He slid off the bed to join Ivan on the floor; Ivan gasped, just a quick breath, gesturing at his ankle with eyes full of concern. Till didn’t know if it was real - his concern. He didn’t know what was real anymore but in this moment he liked to believe it was, as unfounded as it was.

“I’m okay,” he assured him. “I just, can I - ” How did he ask for this, he wasn’t really sure. Finally he gave up and just grabbed Ivan’s hand.

Ivan let him, even as his eyebrows furrowed again, watching as Till gently turned his hand in a few different directions. It was a simple ring, no stone or decorations. It was loose enough for Ivan to spin it around his finger with ease, but too tight to fall off by any accident.

“Do you mind…?” he asked as his fingertips brushed the ring. Surely it wouldn’t be so easy, but it was still worth a try.

Ivan blinked; there was something lost in his gaze, almost like he wasn’t quite seeing. Then suddenly he was pushing Till back with enough force he yelped as his back hit the edge of his bed.

“Don’t touch me,” he said, icily, as he stood and turned toward the door.

It was all wrong. The Ivan that had been, here, for the last few weeks would’ve never reacted like that. So aggressive and cold. That was when Till knew there was no other option: that ring had to go. Whatever was going on, it was clear the aliens had put in some kind of safety measure to keep Ivan from letting anyone take it off.

Whether or not it would magically fix everything was unimportant. It was a start, at least. Till scrambled back to his feet and grabbed Ivan by the arm, yanking as hard as he could. Ivan stumbled, for just a second, but it was enough for Till to get the upper hand he needed.

He spun them around and pushed Ivan onto his bed; he fell with a huff. Before he could fully recover, Till was on top of him, pinning his arms down by his sides. Ivan had always been stronger than him but thankfully with the element of surprise and whatever adrenaline was coursing through his veins it seemed he had managed to subdue him.

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked; his voice no longer had that icy coolness to it, but he was obviously still not happy.

Till squeezed his wrists, hard. “I know you don’t remember me or - or what happened,” flashes of that night on the stage, painful and sharp, played through his mind, “but I know you cared about me and I don’t know if you knew at the time how much I cared about you too.”

Ivan just stared up at him, unblinking. Till took a shaky breath.

“I wish I had let you known, before that night.” His eyes burned but he forced the urge to cry back, swallowing thickly. He needed to focus right now. “Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have done what you did. Maybe we could’ve found another way. You had always been the smartest out of any of us. If anyone could’ve done it, it was you.”

Ivan finally blinked, his mouth pressing together into a thin line. Till couldn’t spend too long wondering if any of this was getting through to him. He just had to keep talking.

“Instead you felt like the only way to save me was through sacrificing yourself, and - ” It was too late; his eyes watered, blurring his vision just a little. “I was so mad at you, at first. I was so angry I was sick. You - ” Till paused, shaking his head, hard. “You had no right to do that. To decide for me what I needed.”

He paused, took another shaky breath. Ivan still didn’t say anything.

“I missed you so much, Ivan,” his voice wavered with each word. “I thought I was never going to see you again and I was so numb. I realized I cared about you, more than I ever realized and - and you weren’t even here for me when I needed you the most.” He sniffed, squeezing his wrists even tighter. “You selfish asshole.”

Finally Ivan opened his mouth to say something. His eyes looked shiny, glistening. Till didn’t even bother waiting to see what he had to say; he surged down and slammed their lips together so hard their teeth clanked together, sending a jolt of pain through his jaw.

Ivan made a small noise in the back of his throat. Surprise, maybe. Till used the moment to let go of his wrist and feel for the ring; as soon as he found it, he yanked it off without hesitation and threw it across the room. He heard the distant clattering and then Ivan was kissing him back with fervor, taking his face in his hands.

Till felt something warm in his chest - hope - as he shifted, deepening the kiss. He was almost afraid to stop, afraid that he’d been wrong and nothing would be changed. Afraid he was kissing a stranger, not the Ivan he knew and desperately needed back.

But finally he had no choice; he pulled back and stared down at Ivan, eyes half-lidded, mouth wet and swollen from the aggressive kissing.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please say something.”

Ivan blinked, some clarity seeming to return to his eyes. His tongue poked out, licking at the corner of his mouth where there was just the smallest spot of blood, probably Till’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and for a moment Till felt the world stop. He had failed. But then Ivan’s hands were at his sides, holding on gently. “I never even considered how you would feel.”

Till sniffed, waited. Didn’t want to get his hopes up too much.

“I can’t even lie and say I thought you wouldn’t care.” Ivan smiled, a small thing. It was nothing like the fake smiles he’d been giving for weeks now. “Because you’re you, and you care more than you let on.”

He didn’t even realize he was shaking until Ivan smoothed a hand down his back, trying to calm him.

“But one of us had to die up there, didn’t they?” Ivan’s hand stopped, low on his back. He let out a soft sigh. “And it couldn’t be you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat, almost too big to breathe. “You kissed me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a quiet acknowledgment. “You asshole, you kissed me and then left me here to try and pick up all the pieces by myself.”

He wasn’t really angry.

“And you just kissed me,” Ivan said, slowly. “Good way to distract me, hm?”

Till couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let things go unsaid between them, not after everything. What if something happened again? What if this was his only chance?

“I did use it as a distraction,” he admitted, but then, “I’d been thinking about it for a while.”

Ivan’s hand twitched against his back. “You had this plan for that long?”

“No,” Till answered truthfully before leaning down a little; their noses were only a couple inches from touching. “You should’ve told me, Ivan. Given me a chance to decide what I really wanted.”

Ivan stared back at him, unwavering. “You wouldn’t have chosen me,” he said with a confidence that sent a pang through Till’s chest, and maybe he would’ve been right, once upon a time, but things were so different now.

They could never go back and change the past, as much as Till wanted to, but the least he could do was be honest with himself moving forward.

“Maybe not back then,” he admitted, because he wasn’t fond of lying and it felt important to be honest here. “But I’m not the person I was back then, am I?”

Ivan gazed up at him with an intensity that made him shiver. “No,” he agreed. “I suppose you aren’t. Because you never would’ve gone through this much trouble for me, before.”

“I always cared about you, Ivan,” he replied, softening his voice, needing him to hear it. “I think I just didn’t know how much.”

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till didn’t know what he was going to say, but that was okay. He wouldn’t push it. They had a lot to figure out over the next few hours - like how they were going to hide Ivan breaking through whatever the aliens had done to him, or if they even could hide it because Till didn’t want to risk putting the ring back on, or even where they stood as friends or more - but for now none of that mattered.

Ivan was back, he was here with him, gazing up at him like he used to, when he used to think Till was never looking (and he wasn’t, most of the time, but not all the time.) And Till knew he would do anything to ensure he never left him again.

[drbased]

We think of mental illnesses (and anything seen as adjacent to that, development disorders included) as an add-on to one's 'true personality'. We say 'I have depression/anxiety/OCD etc'. What was revolutionary for me was recognising that depression isn't some aberrant tumour on my psyche that needs to be removed, but rather it's a reflection of my psyche. There's this pseudospiritual idea that the 'self' is pure - I remember as a teen pondering over how the concept of life-after-death can even exist, because so much of my personality has been formed from my life experiences; the 'me' that would go to heaven now would be entirely different from the 'me' as a baby. Atheistic people and society want to reject this idea of the soul existing separate from the body, but the idea of the 'self' being pure, untouched and eternal, and therefore essentially being a soul, still persists. It exists without the need for religious justification because people changing is always existentially terrifying. And so, too, are mental illnesses.

I spoke to the same woman a few times at some free mental health drop-in thing. I don't know if she was a mental health professional, or just someone whose job it was to listen. The first time I spoke to her, I agreed with everything she said. The next time I spoke to her, I came in with an entirely different attitude, and now disagreed with much of what she said. She commented on this, the implication being that when I agreed with her - when I was cheery, motivated, upbeat, agreeable - that was when I was 'mentally healthy', but when I disagreed with her - when I was holding back, unhappy, pensieve - that was the mental illness talking. The thing is, by the time in my life where I'd come to have this series of conversations with her, I already had come to recognise the fullness and value of myself, depression included: I am always, entirely, me. It interests me her black-and-white assessment of the situation: I agree with her and am happy = I am well/I disagree with her and am not happy = I am not well. I don't blame her for this in the slightest, but rather by analysing the situation it allowed me to understand something about how society percieves, and therefore I once percieved, mental illness. I now understand that I went into that room for the first time, a full and conscious being, emboldened by recent actions, and made a choice to listen to a point of view I knew I wouldn't always like. I've written on this blog quite a a bit about my relationship with wisdom - that I once saw it as vapid, and now I have learned about myself I see the value in it. So now I have a deeper appreciation for 'normie speak' [if this makes you cringe please understand that I am using it for brevity] and thus I made a choice to, instead of dismissing her point of view outright, seek the value in it. I found her to be incredibly insightful and was honest about that. But the next time I had spoken, I had had time to reflect and was less pumped-up and more realistic about who I am, especially with regards to my Pathological Demand Avoidance (at this point I consider it a mental illness in and of itself, and have to treat it with delicate care). I did try to communicate this to her, and throughout my explanation she irritably flicked at a ringbinder - something incredibly rude for someone in her position to do. But she heavily implied that she was more mature than me because she has kids, so, y'know. It was during this exchange that I was reminded of why I rejected 'normie speak' for so long - and why I dismissed its wisdom as inherently vapid. Most people percieve the world in such a way that there are 'mentally ill' people who are Dumb and Bad and Wrong and Need Help, and 'mentally well' people who, by nature of their being well-adjusted, are just Naturally Correct and therefore anything they say, especially if they are put in a position of power as authorised by the system, as she was, is just Better than anything I have to say. Anything I explain under that context is Just An Excuse, an Overcomplication of The Issue, hence why she was visibly irritated with me - my attempt to communicate the wider picture was just Me Being Mentally Ill and Trying To Justify That. I wasn't pulling myself up by my bootstraps; she said I should do a mood board, and I rejected that, knowing that engaging with things purely because they're the 'right' thing to do is exactly what triggers those depressive feelings (something I had already explained to her), and she accused me of not accepting help.

When my depression says 'I want to die', I now say, 'I agree, and I truly feel your pain - but realistically, I'm not going to kill myself right now, and I want to find a way to enjoy my life in the meantime. So what can I do?' I once used to simply count the amount of times I found that voice saying 'I want to die'. But, shockingly, it turns out that the person saying 'I want to die' is me: the thought comes from my psyche. When I first sat in that room and hotboxed it, I asked myself the questions that some part of me always knew the answer to, and thus I was able to answer those questions with staggering ease. Every confusion I've had, every fear I've had about myself has gradually come to light since, with further questioning, more honesty with myself. Now, when I walk in a room, I have a much clearer picture of exactly who I am and what I want from the situation. My 'mental illness' is reflective of an attitude that I have, and I have that attitude for a reason. My depression is still very much here, in that the attitude that it represents still lives inside me. Instead of dismissing that attitude as 'my depression talking', I took the much scarier approach of 'but what if that's actually me talking?' and instead asked it the hard questions. I understand its logic entirely, I sympathise and empathise with that logic and could explain it to you in full. What do you do when you want to convince someone? You engage with their point of view.

Years ago, before I started this journey, I made a deal with myself that I was only ever going to kill myself if life got untennable - say I ran out of money, or gained an illness that made existence unbearable. That was an early example of me taking my desire to kill myself seriously, and therefore it's been one of the most robust decisions I ever made. Ever since I made that decision, I had that urge to kill myself a lot less - because it turns out that my psyche isn't just a set of random impulses but rather a whole, complete person with a whole, complete worldview. I became much less fearful of myself when I realised that I can always accept myself, take myself seriously, and then negotiate with myself. But I have to take myself seriously: dismissing my depression is dismissing part of me, it's telling me that part of me is Just Stupid and incapable of making decisions, and any decisions it does make are inherently irrational, always tarnished with the brush of Mentally Ill. Acknowledging and accepting the logic of my depression means that I don't really have it anymore. I'm currently going through the shittiest thing that's ever happened to me - the reason why I sought those mental health services - and I have not had those classic depression symptoms that were once so expected, so comfortable to me. Instead I am more honest with my emotions, seeing how depressive symptoms once filled in the gap of that kind of honesty. Depression was a response to my lack of engagement with my own psyche. Instead of authentic sadness, depression allowed me the space to be sad with a more dramatic justification. Instead of authentically not desiring to do an activity, depression forced me to not do it. Depression was both the cause and solution: depression said that my emotions and beliefs are not enough - they are too small, too embarrassing. It's too embarrassing to just be me - if I'm sad over something some part of me has decided is Objectively Too Small To Be Sad over, the depression swoops in and says

Lo! But the sadness of existence is tragedy itself. To feel such great, deep feelings, is a beautiful curse. I feel such deep woe, not just for this one tiny instance but what it represents! I could never be sad at only something so small, for I am most definitely a much deeper being than that, capable of great intellectual musing and emotional depth! My ease at being turned to tears is actually a strength of mine, a sign of how at ease I am with my own emotionality, and I should defend to the heavens my inalienable right to be in such a state!

In processing my depression, the word 'embarrassing' kept cropping up, speaking to my fear of there being some Great Power of Objectivity Watching Over Me. Instead, allowing myself to be authentic involved the recognition that I'm going to always have beliefs, feelings and actions that are going to be seen as weird, and that's entirely my prerogative as an individual. So, then, my depression isn't 'bad' because I'm showing 'bad symptoms' that mark me as 'mentally ill' - but rather, it's bad because of the much more terrifying reason that it hurts me to be like this. My PDA, the depression, and the symbolic states, are rejections of my psyche, of my selfhood, because I so desperately want to feel that there's some objective standard I can follow, so then I never have to engage with the existential terror of being responsible: responsible for others, responsible for my actions, responsible for my relationship towards myself. Having to weigh up a situation and decide for myself if I personally value the outcome is much less simple and much more terrifying, but in doing so I come to learn to value myself. I stopped having depression not because I 'fought it' or any other grandiose narratives, but rather because I learned to treat myself with genuine compassion - and whoops, there's Classic Wisdom #12956: Treat Yourself With Care, As You Would A Friend. By rejecting 'normie speak' I veered right back round into it. But I refuse to be vapid about this - yes, there is a major simplicity to what I've learned, but the process of getting there is not simple.

We as a society made a major leap in empathy by recognising mental illnesses as something other than a nuisance to the 'normies'. But unfortunately, there has been an over-correction in response to mental illnesses that, in liberal-politics fashion, doesn't really actually disagree with the classic narrative. Both viewpoints percieve mental illness as 'I Just Can't help it and Need To Eradicate it' - the classic view-point paints mental illness as an aberration of the soul, and that the only way to eradicate it is to either destroy the demon inside, or lock away the person. The more liberal view-point recognises that mental illness is part of a person's psyche and therefore can be engaged with, but it is still an aberration and the goal is still elimination.

It's at this point I'd like to appreciate just how much my engagement with (radical) feminism has been instrumental in my new attitude towards my own mental illnesses. Society already dismisses the Mentally Ill as Bad and Wrong, and so mentally ill women are dismissed as even Badder and Wrongerer. Being able to reclaim my selfhood and take my mental illnesses seriously, as a part of me just as human as the rest, and therefore be sympathised with, understood and engaged with, has been revolutionary for me in a way that only feminism can achieve. No matter how much we want to believe that we as a society are past the stage of dismissing women as inherently irrational, or dismissing mentally ill people as inherently irrational, that attitude is very much live and well and hides in plain sight, implicit in people's actions and inactions, in how they phrase their words, in what they don't say as much as what they say. Being able to walk into a room and not immediately feel terrible for every single choice I've ever made simply because one person in front of me might disapprove of it, has been such a tremendous burst of freedom for me. And it's still ongoing; I still feel the 'tug' where I fear I'm not being 'objective enough' - but since now I understand that my primary responsibility is to myself, the brain fog has dissipated and I have time to emotionally and mentally breathe and process. I'm still not free yet, but I have built myself a foundation of self-love.

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, injuries, jealousy, mentions of nausea and blood

A/N: i hope you guys enjoy this chapter, i had a bit of trouble writing it but i hope it turned out ok!

“Angel, wake up. We’re here.”

You groaned, instinctively covering your face with the jacket Luke had draped over you to keep you warm. “Five more minutes…”

You heard him chuckle under his breath. He lifted the coat off of your resting figure, making you whine. You were fully aware that you had to get up and face the deadly challenge ahead.  A couple more moments of rest would’ve made you feel at least a little better.

Luke reached over and unbuckled your seatbelt. He got out of the Mercedes-Benz and walked around to open your door. “You were asleep for almost three hours, baby. I think it’s time to wake up so we can get this over with, don’t you?”

You clumsily clambered out of the car, gripping onto Luke’s shoulders so you didn’t face-plant into the ground. Looking around, you realized that you were parked in the middle of a field. The sun was setting in the distance, casting an warm orange glow on everything its light touched. 

You would’ve stopped to admire the scenery if you weren’t so worried about getting mutilated by a dragon. 

Luke grabbed both of your backpacks and closed the car door. Slinging one over each shoulder, he unsheathed the sword attached to his belt. “Ready?”

You nodded, adjusting your posture to appear more confident than you really were. You headed towards the dirt path in the grass, which undoubtedly lead to the Garden.

“How far do you think we need to walk?” 

“Not too far, the tree should only be about a half-mile from here.”

“Flying would make the journey a lot faster,” you pointed out. You still weren’t a fan of using your wings, but you didn’t mind it if they would make tasks easier or safer.

“No.” Luke immediately shut the idea down. “You need to conserve your energy.”

You gave him an over-exaggerated pout. “You’re so bossy.”

“And you’re a brat,” he said, but you knew he was just teasing. He called you that all the time, knowing he was the only one who could get away with it and remain unharmed.

Besides, it wasn’t exactly untrue. You enjoyed giving your boyfriend a bit of attitude at times, just to get him riled up. After all, he looked even more attractive that way.

You would’ve continued playfully pushing his buttons if not for the sense of dread that was creeping up on you. Each step you took towards The Garden of Hesperides strengthened the feeling. The paranoia started overwhelming your mind, making your hands shake slightly. 

What if this was the last time you and Luke went a peaceful walk together? What if one of you didn’t make it out alive?

You swallowed, pushing the nagging questions aside. You would do everything in your power to keep you both alive.

And if your father decided to take his soul away from you, you would fight like the most vicious of demons to get him back. 

________________________________________________

Words couldn’t describe the beauty of The Garden of Hesperides. 

The colors were almost too overwhelming for your eyes to process. You’d never seen such radiant flowers, or such vibrant grass. It felt like you had stepped into a painting, rather than a real place.

The most stunning feature of the Garden, of course, was the apple tree. It was ginormous, at least five times as large as a normal one. You were no botanical expert, but it looked extremely healthy, especially for being as ancient as it was. 

The Hesperides, who laid peacefully in the soft grass, were almost as gorgeous as the magical plant. They looked nearly identical, but each of them were easily more beautiful than almost all of the people you knew. They wore traditional white chitons, enhancing their dark eyes and shiny black hair. 

If a mortal had somehow stumbled across this place, they would assume it was a safe haven. That is, of course, until they spotted the hundred-headed dragon wrapped around the trunk of the tree

You and Luke were ducked behind a hill about a hundred yards away from the Hesperides and Ladon the dragon. Even from afar, their presences made you feel uneasy. Ladon was much larger than you’d expected him to be, and you had a feeling the Hesperides could be vicious if they wanted to be. 

“So, what’s our plan of action?” Luke whispered, keeping one hand on his sword’s hilt. 

You sucked in a breath. You’d been brainstorming strategies during the walk to the Garden, and had finally come up with one that seemed feasible. You didn’t like it, but it made the most sense. 

“The Hesperides are known to like men more than women. They never get to leave the Garden, you see, so when they have male company they get…more excited. They’re more likely to let their guard down if you approach them and spark a conversation. They may be wary of you at first, but if you pretend to be a traveling demigod who simply wanted to admire the tree’s beauty, they should fall for it.”

“Okay,” Luke said slowly. “Then what will you do?” 

“I’ll turn invisible and slowly approach the tree. When the time is right, I’ll fly upwards to grab an apple, which will undoubtedly alert Ladon. Then, I’ll fly over to you and we’ll make a run for it.” 

You could immediately tell that Luke didn’t like this. Before he could protest, you said, “If I approach the Hesperides, they’ll immediately be suspicious and send Ladon to attack me. The only way to try and avoid a fight is by having me pick the apple.”

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. After a second, he sighed. 

“I don’t like it, but it does seem like our best bet. Just…please, please put yourself before the quest. Don’t sacrifice your life for a stupid magical fruit. It’s not worth it.” 

You nodded. “I understand. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Luke gave you a nervous smile. “Okay. I’ll be as careful as I can, but if I need to, I’ll fight my way out.”

You tried not to wince. You hated the idea of Luke facing Ladon alone. But you knew he’d fight any monster, matter how large, to protect you and himself.

Gently, you pulled Luke in for a passionate kiss. You tried to ignore the fear that this was the last one you’d ever share. 

When you pulled away, you gave his a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll see you soon.” 

With that, you closed your eyes, and willed yourself to become invisible. You broke into a sprint, heading towards the backside of the enchanted tree. 

You were tempted to pray to the gods for protection, but realized it was pointless. After all, the tree belonged to the king and queen of Olympus.

And they never really listened to demigods anyway.

.

.

.

You would’ve been much more upset about Luke being surrounded by beautiful, immortal women if not for the beast slumbering a handful of feet away from you.

Luke had always been a smooth talker, even when he was still in his “awkward teen” phase. It was one of the many skills he’d inherited from Hermes. He could talk his way out of trouble, even in the tightest of situations. 

With that ability and his good looks, he could easily get whatever he wanted from most people. 

He was sitting on a carved stone bench, telling a winding story to the Hesperides, who seemed very interested. Clearly, it had been awhile since they’d had male company.

You crept closer to the trunk of the tree, being careful to stay as quiet as possible. Ladon undoubtedly had an enhanced sense of hearing, as he literally had one hundred heads. 

You gripped the hilt of your weapon, prepared to fight at any moment. If the dragon attacked Luke, you wouldn’t hesitate to step in. 

You stood still for a few moments, observing Ladon’s body language. He seemed to be deep in slumber, his many eyes closed tightly and his breathing slow and steady.

Concentrating intensely to ensure you stayed invisible, you willed your wings to appear. The familiar cold feeling of them sprouting from your shoulder blades made you shudder ever-so slightly, but the effect quickly faded. 

Jumping into the air, you hovered for a minute, trying to decide which apple would be easiest to pick. The further into the branches you went, the more noise you’d make, undoubtedly alerting the dragon that there was an intruder.

You decided on one that was dangling at the very end of a branch, a good distance away from any of Ladon’s heads. You took a deep breath, and rose higher. 

Then, like a hawk targeting a field mouse, you swooped down, snatching the golden fruit from the tree.

Unfortunately, the snap that elicited from you picking the apple was enough to wake the beast below you.

“Fuck,” you murmured under your breath. Ladon began stirring, and then his many eyes shot open. 

You had been caught. 

There was no point in staying hidden, the dragon could use its sense of smell to detect your exact location. As soon as your invisibility faded away, you screamed, “Luke!”

You saw his focus immediately switch from the Hesperides to you. His eyes widened, and he unsheathed his sword, charging towards where the dragon was getting ready to attack you. 

You landed on the ground next to him and readied your sword. Ladon’s many heads were glaring down at you both, teeth gnashing together violently. 

He lifted a gigantic claw and swung at you. You threw Luke out of the way just in time, but ended up feeling the full force of the blow. The apple flew out of your hand, landing somewhere in the meadow. You were thrown at least ten feet, hitting the ground with a painful thud. 

You howled in agony, feeling your ribs crack painfully. Somehow, you got up, staggering to your feet. You glanced around wildly, searching for Luke. Your vision swam, but you were able to make out his figure in the distance. He was slashing at the beast, swiftly avoiding its foot-long talons. Somehow, he was able to detach one of Ladon’s claws, making the monster cry out in agony.

You stumbled towards him, using your long weapon as a cane. You no longer cared about the stupid apple. You just needed to get him out of here.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you saw one of Ladon’s claws make contact with Luke’s face. 

He screamed, reaching up to cover the gash, which was starting to drip with blood. 

Ignoring the searing pain in your torso, you ran towards him, stepping between him and Ladon. The dragon snarled at you, its hot breath fanning your face and making you even more terrified. Still, you leveled your weapon, prepared to keep it away from Luke, no matter what it cost.

You rose up into the air, until you were at face-level with Ladon. Before the dragon could lunge, you used your sword to slash through the eyes of one of his larger heads. The shriek he let out was deafening, and almost made you drop your weapon.

Quickly heading back towards the ground, you grabbed Luke and tried to get him to his feet. But he was clearly in an overwhelming amount of pain, and was in no shape to move, let alone run.

As you saw Ladon heading towards you both with a murderous glint in his eyes, you knew there was only one way to make it out alive.

Wrapping your arms around Luke, you closed your eyes and thought of Camp Half-Blood. You pictured yourself appearing at the border, right next to Thalia’s tree.

A sudden gust of icy wind swirled around you both, making you gasp. You held on tighter to the injured boy, afraid that if you loosened your grip, he would be lost forever. You felt dizzy and nauseous, and you were sure that if it lasted any longer, you were going to die.

Then, the feeling stopped. 

You opened your eyes tentatively, and that saw the trunk of a large pine tree was mere feet away. 

You had successfully teleported all the way from California to Long Island Sound. 

You’d made it home.

Dragging Luke towards the border, it took all of your energy not to pass out. Luke was barely conscious, still gripping Ladon’s severed claw in his hands and carrying both of your backpacks on his shoulders. 

As soon as you had made it past the magical barrier, you screamed, “Help! Someone, please!”

Because it was already nighttime, you couldn’t make out exactly who was rushing towards you and Luke. You were barely able to hear what they were saying, but you could tell they were panicked and confused. 

Finally, your legs gave out, and you hit the ground. Luke groaned as he practically fell on top of you, clutching at the deep wound on his face. 

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was Luke whispering your name. 

taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @have-a-nice-day-k

Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!!

The tone of the story is going to shift beginning in the next chapter, it’s going to get more mature in a multitude of ways…

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

[melisnonstop]

𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂

↳ 📱𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚞 (4/)

TikTok Video – Alex’s 2nd Chance Review of *Brideshead Revisited*

@acd.chronicles

(Video opens with Alex sitting on his couch with the book in hand, this time marked with tabs and notes. He smirks a little, clearly referencing his earlier statements)

Alex

"Okay, so last time I talked about *Brideshead Revisited*, I... wasn’t exactly kind to it.

(He chuckles softly, flipping through the book’s worn pages)

Alex

“I said it was a story of rich people being sad in castles, and honestly, I stand by a lot of what I said.

"But—Henry, you got me. I reread it, and yeah, I noticed more this time. I have... thoughts."

Alex

"So first off, I’ll admit, Waugh’s ability to write emotional nuance, especially between two men, is something I didn’t appreciate as much the first time around.

“There’s something undeniably beautiful about how Waugh captures queerness through subtext.

(He opens the book to an annotated page)

Alex

"'Perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond languages scrawled on the walls of caves.'

“And honestly, it’s kind of... heartbreaking, seeing how much is left unsaid because it had to be, for so many reasons."

(Alex pauses, nodding as if considering the layers more)

Alex

"But here’s the thing—while I can appreciate the beauty and complexity of these relationships, I still stand by what I said in my first video.

“We do need to look at these stories critically, especially classics that were written in a different time. *Brideshead* unequivocally centers on the lives of wealthy, white, privileged characters.

“We can appreciate the artistry while also recognizing the limits of who gets to tell these kinds of stories and why they’re still held up as ‘the best we’ve got.’

“It’s important we keep pushing back on this idea that classics should be held up without critique.”

(Alex sets the book aside and smiles, wrapping up on a lighter note)

Alex

"Anyway, shoutout to Henry for making me rethink things, and I’ll admit, this second read gave me a lot to think about. Peace and love, y’all.”

↳ 📱

TikTok Video – Henry’s Review of *The City We Became* by N.K. Jemisin

@SonnetAndSpice

(The video opens with Henry sitting in a cozy setting, soft lighting, with a cup of tea steaming beside him. He smiles warmly at the camera, adjusting the book on his lap before glancing back up with a calm but enthusiastic expression)

Henry

“Hello, everyone. Welcome back to *Fox and Folio*—though today, we’re taking a bit of a detour into the future. And by ‘future,’ I mean N.K. Jemisin’s *The City We Became,* which… well, Alex might’ve just introduced me to a new all-time favorite.

(Henry chuckles softly, holding up the book with an unmistakable glimmer in his eyes, his expression like he’s still processing how much the story resonated with him)

Henry

“So, for those who haven’t read it yet, *The City We Became* is this brilliant mashup of urban fantasy, science fiction, and social commentary. It’s—well—it’s a lot of things, but most of all, it’s alive.

“It’s about New York City becoming alive—literally—and how each borough has its own avatar, these human embodiments that represent the city’s diversity, its grit, and honestly, its soul.

“The way Jemisin creates this rich, living tapestry of New York, while also exploring themes like gentrification, systemic racism, and community—it’s nothing short of genius. It feels… urgent, you know?”

(He takes a thoughtful sip of his tea, as though collecting his thoughts for a moment, then continues with a softer tone)

Henry

“The characters aren’t just representing the city—they’re *fighting* for their boroughs, for the identity of their communities. There’s this brilliant quote in the book: ‘Cities are not people, but something else altogether: cities are alive.’

"And what Jemisin does, beautifully, is show us that cities are made of the people who care for them. The ones who’ve been here the longest, the ones whose voices we need to hear most. That idea just… stuck with me."

(He runs a hand over the book's cover, a brief pause as he looks down, processing the weight of the subject)

Henry

“I’ve only been here a short while, but every day I’m more aware of how the city’s history, and its people, shape it into what it is. How painful it must be to see it change—forcefully, and sometimes, without care.

“And to be honest, it’s something I think about constantly. I’m… aware that I’m part of that problem, just by being here.”

(His voice grows a bit quieter, more introspective, as he acknowledges the weight of his own role in the city)

Henry

“This book doesn’t try to tell you how to feel, but it does ask you to *see*—to see what’s really happening, and to be mindful of your place in it.

"Jemisin doesn’t preach—she just opens your eyes. And... I think that’s the kind of narrative we need more of."

(He leans back slightly, his usual calm demeanor returning, though there’s an undeniable intensity behind his words. His passion is clear, but it’s delivered with a gentle grace)

Henry

“I genuinely think *The City We Became* is one of the most exciting, thought-provoking books I’ve read in years. If you live in New York—or even if you don’t—it’ll change the way you look at cities, at communities, and at identity itself. It’s just... something I can’t recommend enough.”

(Henry shifts slightly, a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he continues, making sure to credit Alex)

Henry

“Of course, credit where credit’s due—thank you, Alex, for pushing me to read this. I don’t think I’d have picked it up on my own, but I’m *so* glad I did.”

(He smiles softly, a bit sheepish but sincere, his gratitude genuine)

Henry

“And thank you, N.K. Jemisin, for writing a story that feels so deeply resonant. You’ve truly created something remarkable.

“As always, let me know if you’ve read it—and what you thought. I’d love to hear your perspectives on this one.

"Until next time—happy reading, and cheers."

(The video ends with Henry leaning forward slightly, giving the camera a final, knowing smile)

[haunting-hufflepuffs-basement]

Oh my gosh. OH MY FUCKING GOSH YOU GUYS!

I just, for the third time, rewatched Puffs the Play. I need every single Harry Potter fan (especially those of you who are Hufflepuffs like me) to know about this amazing AMAZING show and go watch it PLEASE.

Puffs the Play is a tongue-and-cheek irreverent adaptation of Harry Potter that covers what the hell the Hufflepuffs were doing during Harry's time at Hogwarts. The main characters are:

Wayne Hopkins, a kid whose parents were murdered on the same night as Harry's and who was sent to live with his well-meaning but super weird and oblivious redneck uncle in New Mexico. He grows up as a completely normal muggle child until he gets his letter, at which point his uncle realizes "We gotta talk more" and he gets thrust into Hogwarts. Wayne believes that he's destined for something great and very much wants to be important and save the wizarding world. Unfortunately, Harry is also there.

Oliver Rivers, an American math savant who just moved to England with his family to attend Oxford's mathematics program. Oliver is very VERY salty about Hogwarts not having a math class and has a lot of struggles adjusting to the absolute insanity that is wizard school

And Megan Jones, a girl whose family is known for being "the Puff family. Like the Puffiest of the Puffs." All except her mother Xavia, who was an infamous and dangerous Death Eat---no wait, sorry, Death BUDDY, who is currently in wizard prison. Megan strives to be just like her mother.

These dorks, along with several other background Puffs from the books (Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, etc.) navigate 7 of the craziest years at the most dangerous wizarding school guided under their amazing mentor Cedric. . .at least for a while . . . As Puffs, the most beaten up, looked down on, and "worthless" house.

Now, this play is absolutely amazing you guys. It's hilarious, for starters, and takes a lot of liberties with the books. Every single person there is a cloud-cukoolander who is full of adorkable charm and ridiculous sass towards canon. Common catchphrases include:

"HI!" with a signature adorkable little wave.

"We're WIZARDS!"

"We are not a threat! Please be our friend!"

"Oh. My. Wizard. God!"

It's a filmed play that is deliberately low-budget to help with the comedy. Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Godric Gryffindor are all played by hand puppets. Harry is there, played by the same (female) actress as Susie Bones and is an absolutely hilarious oblivious sweetheart, but Ron and Hermoine are a pair of mops dragged around by other cast members. The cast is a total of, like, 10 people who just continually switch roles. The narrator won't stop taking pot-shots at both the canon Harry Potter story and the story of Puffs, and keeps breaking the fourth wall. Some of my other favorite quotes include but aren't limited too:

"HI CEDRIC! Love your bones" -Harry Potter

"J-Finch is imaginary!?!? J-FINCH CAN GO WHEREVER HE WANTS!"

"AVIA FORMES!" (Chucks bird at person)

"If it makes you feel any better, he's ugly, and he'll probably stay that way forever!" (Said about Neville by the way)

"Someone said the snake monster only goes after pretty girls so I shouldn't have to oh I get it they were bullying me."

"JESUS CHRIST YOU ALL ARE 13!"

"Students who are Brave! Students who are Smart! Students who talk like they're about to throw a glass of white wine in your face! And the Puffs!"

It's really funny you guys.

But it is also incredibly heartwarming and can be sad and serious at times. It's a story of unbreakabke friendship. It's a story about how to keep on going when the going gets rough. It's a story that says it doesn't matter if everyone else thinks you're a bit of an idiot or if you're socially awkward or if you fail a whole lot. As long as you keep trying and keep working hard, something good will be there for you (even if it's not the something you wanted). It's a story about embracing your true self.

It's a story that says "I'm a Puff. And I'm staying."

It has also permanently affected the way I read the Harry Potter books, as I project the Puffs personalities (and frequently looks) onto all the Hufflepuffs when they show up in the books, even if a lot of them don't really match.

Everyone, please go watch Puffs the Play, and understand why I have some strange headcanons about the background Hufflepuffs from the class of '98.