#you will never be able to learn! you will never be able to change it!

[myaquarianconfessional]

Do not forget, evil people use hypocrisy as a tool in their tool box of evil.

You will never be able to "catch them out" because they do not care. They use lies to their advantage. They play dirty. They hold you to your own values, expect you to tow the line. But they second they hold any kind of power the goalposts change. This is intentional.

We've been reacting with righteous indignation and a genuine expectation that even if they don't follow our values, at bare minimum surely they will follow their own! But this has never been the case and we're learning that lesson far too late.

What do you mean we had to listen to “crooked Hillary” and “her emails” for YEARS and now they are somehow okay with some businessman and his 20 yr old interns accessing our money, shutting down departments, and threatening our federal employees?!?

Republicans, you’re being played. They’re stealing our money and destroying our government under the guise of “waste.” This is a heist and you voted for it.

[diushek]

Shen Qingqiu may know a lot about PIDW, monsters, the plot and papapa plot devices, but, traditional ancient music? Are they seriously going to ask him to learn all those old songs in addition to trying to save his ass from a horrible death?

So, in guqin classes with his students, Shen Qingqiu decides that it is not bad to teach them adaptations of modern music. Nothing crazy. Popular stuff, something classic Queen like exaggerations. He doesn't sing in English, but the music has this magnetic thing that can make a few of his disciples hum along, and it feels like they know the lyrics. Shen Qingqiu enjoys it very much.

Luo Binghe is the only one who actually hears him sing it. With English lyrics included. Of course, Luo Binghe has no idea what it means, but that doesn't mean he can't imitate it! So he's singing softly while washing some robes, enjoying Shizun's musical gift to him, when he hears someone stumble.

That someone turns out to be Shang Qinghua, the An Ding Peak Lord, who stands up from the ground with wide eyes. Luo Binghe interrupts his song, looking at him in confusion, when Shang-shishu... run at him?!

"Bro" Shang-shishu says, in a casual and unpleasant manner, with an expression on his face that Luo Binghe had never seen before, "What the fuck. What the fuck. Queen? Somebody to love? Are you kidding me? How did you get the Protagonist!?"

... and Shang Qinghua begins to speak.

Luo Binghe is sixteen years old, and at this point in his life, he is intelligent, manipulative, and able to handle the situations around him with cunning. So, he manages to keep a conversation going with Shang Qinghua by repeating strange words that he doesn't understand the meaning of, letting the man talk and say things like, Transmigrator? System? Username? How many years has he been there? How did he get the "Scum Villain" to treat him well? Is he preparing for the "Endless Abyss"? Since apparently, that thing, System, had told him that it was an "inescapable plot"...

Luo Binghe is evasive. He says he's been there since he was a baby, which turns out to be an appropriate answer. Bit by bit, he says he doesn't have many memories, which Shang Qinghua seems to understand? He says that some memories settle when he reaches adulthood? That this happened to him. He was twenty when he was really able to manage "both lives" in one coherent thing.

Luo Binghe listens, humming in all the right places, being elusive and evasive but Shang Qinghua doesn't even seem to suspect anything. He insists that he should prepare for the Endless Abyss and promises to get him some weapons and talismans that he can hide. He tells him that he hopes "His King" won't make such a fuss without so many monsters.

Finally, the evening falls, Shang Qinghua begs him to please keep seeing each other to talk, he is tired of being alone.

Luo Binghe looks at the wet clothes. He finishes washing and leaves with many things on his mind.

Shang Qinghua recognized him as a "Transmigrator", whatever that was, from the song. The song his Shizun had taught him. He had asked him how long he had been here. At first, the question hadn't made much sense, but looking back, recalling Shizun's complete change in temperament and personality... Luo Binghe can get an idea of how long Shizun has been there.

Besides, what was all that about "Protagonist"? Luo Binghe is not an epic hero blessed by the gods, and he doesn't have the abilities to be classified as one. Or does he?

That night, he makes an impeccable dinner. He makes sure to present all of Shizun's favorite foods, favorite tea, and favorite scented candles. A treat for the senses. When he sees his Shizun start eating, he just smiles sweetly before:

"Shizun, this humble disciple has a question about the future."

"Mnh, this Master listens."

"Why must this disciple fall into the Endless Abyss as an inevitable plot? Is there no way the System will allow this disciple to stay with his Shizun, or is this an unavoidable fate because this humble one is the Protagonist?"

The chopsticks fall from Shizun's hand. The expression on his face is one of the deepest horror.

"Binghe, what...?"

And his Shizun looks in all directions. He seems to be searching for something that isn't there. The "System", perhaps? Whatever that is, Binghe has never seen or felt it. And, at that moment, his Shizun doesn't seem to see it either. Or, he sees it, but what he sees seems not to be a response of cosmic horror. What he sees makes his Shizun's countenance turn peaceful. After terror and tension, his shoulders relax.

"First, Binghe has to tell me where he got all that... information" begins his Shizun. Binghe nods quickly; he won't have any problems with exposing Shang-shishu if necessary. He has no loyalty to him, not like he does to his Shizun. "Very good. Binghe, sit next to me and pour us some more tea. This is going to be a long conversation."

And it definitely was.

[anothermaletfwriter]

How do you feel being a twink?

(Accidentally deleted the anon ask oops: can you please do a story where the library changes a total douche straight guy into the ideal, effeminate twink asian boyfriend of the gay guy he relentlessly bullies? would love if the guy feels himself becoming trapped in his own mind & unable to stop his new body from absolutely fawning over the new love of his gay life. your stories are soooo hot)

Liam Richardson never got along with his gay roommate, Daniel Lee. For starters, Liam didn’t even originally pick out Daniel as his roommate. The original roommate he picked was a straight white jock bro like himself but he never arrived. It was only after Daniel arrived that Liam learned the original roommate dropped out of university to work on his full-time job of teaching a course about selling other courses.

Liam didn’t consider himself homophobic. He just didn’t want people to shove their sexuality in his face, despite him constantly doing the same for his heterosexuality.

Daniel was the out and proud gay that caused agitated Liam. Daniel wore soft oversized colorful outfits. His bedsheets and blankets were a rainbow. He had rainbow pride flags and posters of K-pop groups hanged on his wall. Underneath his bed was his collection of BL and yaoi manga. He made the place smell of peaches and cream.

To most people, Liam was a bully to Daniel, making fun of his looks, gay voice and the gay media he enjoyed. He had resorted to verbal bullying after his first and only attempt at physical bullying had backfired. After a two hour gym session, Liam had come home, wearing a drenched muscle tee that barely covered his juicy pecs, to Daniel eating the chips he had left out on the counter that were meant for him. After a loud argument between the two of them, Liam put Daniel in a headlock, flexing his muscles as he shoved Daniel’s soft face into his musky pits. He stopped after a few seconds when he felt Daniel’s boner on his legs. He swore off to never do any physical bullying again, despite Daniel’s multiple requests for him to do it again, sometimes he even offered money for it, which Liam still turned down.

Because of Daniel, Liam had to calculate around his schedule, figuring what time he got home to sneak a woman into their place for a quick fuck session. His type were short busty women, except for Asians as he didn’t find them that attractive, especially if they wore nerdy glasses. He enjoyed how powerful he felt towering a foot over his women.

Daniel wasn’t shy about his dream boy: Soft, effeminate, twink and Asian. Liam was pleasantly surprised Daniel never brought any guys home. He didn’t want to see any gay sex, especially one that involved Daniel. When asked when he would find a guy to hookup with, Daniel simply responded with, “You’ll know when I bring him home.”

When he woke up this morning, he could swear Daniel was staring at him with a big smile. What made it even creepier was his recollection of Daniel speaking in Mandarin before he fell asleep last night and a glance at his laptop revealed he was looking at ancient love spells.

There was a new library in town, and Liam went there, voluntarily, not to study but to go searching for any women to bring home and breed. If he timed it right, he had an hour to find one and fill up before Daniel got home. His predictions were accurate as he was able to snag a seat that give him a clear view of the pod of sorority girls chattering amongst themselves. While Liam slowly got up to approach them, he stopped midway from his chair. A soft vanilla fruity scent clogged his nostrils like if someone had thrown a perfume bomb in the middle of the library. He looked around and noticed no one seemed to even realize the smell. As the perfume entered his body, he felt his chest grow warm, prompting him to go to the bathroom.

Once he arrived in the empty bathroom, he was shocked to see another face in the mirror. His nose was shorter with a wider base. His hair turned from deep wispy brown to spiky jet black. He now had monolids as his eye colors became black. His skin a golder tone than the pale beige it had before. He was Asian! Liam tugged at his elastic skin like it was a mask but it stung when he tried to pinch it off. It was his own flesh, not synthetic. But that couldn't be, he was a white guy named Liam. No he wasn’t. He was David Nguyen, far from an ordinary white guy.

A softer voice appeared in his head, revealing himself as David, “Hey I’m not done yet,”

“What the fuck? What do you mean not done yet?” Liam asked himself in the bathroom, his deep voice bolting like rain, “Get out of my head and fix me back to the white jock I was before.”

“That’s not what Daniel wants.”

“I don’t give a little shit what that gay boy wants.”

“That’s just too bad. Anyways, I’m taking over your form as per his request so enjoy the ride! It won’t hurt a bit, it will just feel even warmer!!” The voice taunted before disappearing, much to Liam’s protests for it to return.

Liam curled him up his biceps and made a fist, vowing to find Daniel before anything else happens. But before he could exit the bathroom, his body froze. No matter how hard he willed for muscles to move, they wouldn’t budge. Before he could think, his body returned back to the sink and mirror. David was in control of his body and Liam couldn’t even yell for help.

His body formed a smile as the rest of his transformation continued. His frame fizzled out. He had shrunk a couple of inches as the ceiling lamps seemed further up than a minute before. A natural red blush developed on his cheeks that made makeup pointless. His hands were smaller and softer, with the scent of strawberry hand lotion quietly on them. The tight tank top that wrapped around his big chest became loose as his pecs and abs flattened out. He raised his arms as the mirror revealed they losing most of their definition. He pulled up his pants and saw the atrophy of his leg muscles as well, they were slender and hairless like the rest of his new form. He coughed as his Adam's shrunk, sounding more feminine. While his muscles and strength shrank, On the flip side, his ass felt heavier, owing it to his bottom-friendly exercises at the gym.

Liam tried to reverse the transformation by thinking about his attraction to women but the harder he thought about their bouncing breasts and leaking pussies, the more of his thoughts became clouded with other men topping him. Liam begged to have his sexuality spared but David declined, stating it was the part most important to Daniel. He coughed out his heterosexuality. No more attraction to women, no desire to have sex with them. All in his male gaze was other men now. This couldn’t get any worse.

His roommate boyfriend, Daniel, walked in. His smile piercing through David’s confusion, as he squeezed the little muscle left on his chest, “You okay, David?”

Liam was no longer in control of his body, let alone his consciousness. All the douchey and toxic parts of his masculinity were cleansed out and replaced with a softer, effeminate and sensitive one. His voice rose in pitch, matching the one speaking in his head earlier, “Yeah, I just needed a minute to myself"

Daniel puckered a kiss on his lips, standing shoulder-height to his boyfriend of a few months. The internal Liam was in agony. He was no longer in control of his body, since if he was in control, he would have punched Daniel. Liam was straight, he would never even think of kissing another guy, let alone someone as gay as Daniel. But he wasn’t Liam anymore, he was David, an openly gay Asian man.

Memories of their relationship were the next to be modified. Their argumentative battles and awkward standoffs as roommates were gone. All the hostility within vanished, and what remained was tranquility and love. Instead of a rocky start, their sparks flew off instantly, since they shared many of the same interests: cozy games, crocheting, Drag Race and K-pop. All the nights Liam spent on his phone watching football highlights were replaced by the vibrant pink nights where David and Daniel cuddled on the living room couch together underneath a Hello Kitty Blanket as they rewatched Drag Race clip’s and K-pop MNET performances on Youtube. On the table was the strawberry bobas they ordered nearly every weekend.

David was enamored with Daniel not just because of his cute twinkish look but his soft, adorable personality. He would be infuriated if he knew that his old version as Liam bullied his adorable cinnamon roll of a boyfriend. David and Daniel could not imagine where they wouldn’t be living together in their cute penthouse in Manhattan. Their first date was at the dining hall, eating bland cheeseburgers and salty curly fries, as David was the first to say “I love you."

The couple soon returned home from the library. Liam’s stacks of weights and dirty stinky gym clothes disappeared as Squishmallows and other plushies and piles of neatly folded laundry that smelled off fresh fabric conditioner. The mirror Liam used to flex and even spray a few shots of his seed on became spotless. Its outer frame became pink and decorated with Polaroids of Daniel and David together, almost like a shrine to their relationship. Liam could only watch in the back of David’s mind and body as reality finished correcting its mistakes.

David and Daniel cuddled together and kissed on their beds that they had smushed together. Their hearts flustered as they touched every warm spot of their bodies out of love. They couldn't be any happier than this.

There was no Liam, only a David that had always existed and loved his roommate boyfriend, Daniel.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Hey I saw your old post asking which fanfics you should do next. I know it didn’t win but could you please please please do “Tell Me You Love Me Again” with Eddie. Im in dire need of some good angst ❤️

Tell Me You Love Me Again

Sorry this took me so long to write! I have had some massive writer's block. Hopefully, this is okay!

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x reader

Story Type: Angst

Warning: Y/N use, swearing, Eddie's a bit of a greedy ass ngl

Summary: You've been with Eddie since before he was famous. It used to be a loving relationship. As the years have passed, things have changed. Can you save the dying spark between you?

*Not Proof Read*

□□□□□□□

"Baby, you wanted to talk. Why are we just sitting here in silence?" Eddie asks with a grin. He casually flips through a music magazine, observing all of the new instruments for sale.

I take a deep breath. How do I even start this conversation? He's been so busy launching his band's new line of merch that I doubt this is a great time to talk about our relationship. Who knows when we'll have another opportunity? This is the first time I've been able to see him privately in weeks. I don't know how long I can keep harboring my frustrations.

"We do need to talk...here goes nothing." I sigh. "It's about our relationship."

Eddie pulls his eyes away from his magazine, his smile fading into a serious expression. "What about it?"

"I've been feeling very frustrated lately. I feel like you're never home, and I never get to see you anymore. I miss you." I reply honestly.

Eddie sets the magazine on top of the coffee table that separates us. "I know it's been busy lately, but it's great for us! Now I can take you anywhere you want to go. Name any place, and I can bring you there." Eddie's playful smile returns.

I let out a tired laugh. "Eddie, that's nice and all, but the problem is you don't have the time to take me anywhere I want to go. I just want you to dial it back a bit, please. Spend more time with me, and I'm sure Wayne would love it if you spent some time with him, too."

I'm not even sure if Eddie has time to call Wayne anymore. I might be the only one talking to him regularly.

"I spend plenty of time with Wayne." Eddie's expression is slightly offended.

"It's just the past year; you've rarely been back. Can't you take some time off? Cancel a few tour dates or reschedule some photoshoots?"

"I can't just abandon my career, Y/N. My band has worked so hard for this." Eddie argues. "It wouldn't be fair to the boys."

"What about what's fair to me, Eddie?" I let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not asking you to abandon anything, Eddie. I just think you should prioritize our relationship a little more. We barely see each other anymore!" My heart pounds. "When you're not on tour, you're constantly doing promotional videos or photoshoots. We haven't gone on a date in almost a month."

My flurry of emotions has caused tears to prick the back of my eyes. Fuck, I can't cry right now.

Eddie's shoulders are tense. His usual animated and playful exterior is replaced with a frustrated and angry one. One I rarely see, especially not when talking to me.

"That's part of the job. I'm a fucking rockstar, Y/N. I can't exactly blow off the world tours and photoshoots. My label and manager expects me to get shit out quickly. You don't understand! The moment I stop making songs and producing new shit, the moment all of this, " He gestures around the room to all of his expensive nicknacks and furniture. "disappears. I'll become irrelevant. My band will become irrelevant. This is my life, Y/N. And you're going to need to learn to accept it."

My frown deepens. "Do you hear yourself? How can you not see how greedy you're becoming? What happened to just loving music? Loving the art of creating, no matter how many people heard. When did this all become about money?" I stand up from my spot on Eddie's couch, needing to put some distance between myself and the man. I avoid making eye contact with him, knowing if I do, I'll burst into tears.

This room suddenly feels so suffocating. "Is this really all you care about? How many shows you can sell out? How deep your pockets can get?"

"For fucks sake, Y/N." Eddie groans as he leans back against his recliner. His head hits the back of the seat, an annoyed expression flashing across his face. "You're being so fucking dramatic."

I shake my head. "This is not what I signed up for. You are not the man I signed up to be with."

Eddie stiffens. Hurt crosses his eyes. His face turns stoic as he looks me dead in the eye. A dark anger replaces his hurt. "Things change. People change. Obviously, I've changed. If you hate me so fucking much, why don't you get the fuck out and find someone new? Someone who better suits your lifestyle since you're not happy with me."

I freeze. My heart drops at his bitter words. He's never spoken to me like this before.

He's so different than the man I fell in love with all those years ago. Life seemed simpler in Hawkins. I'd work the night shift at The Hideout and he'd play with his band. I was able to see him regularly while he was still able to do what he loved. No massive world tours to separate us for months. No partying until early the next day. Just the two of us, supporting each other and doing what we loved.

I feel my cheeks heat from embarrassment and anger. He's right. He's changed, and it's obviously been for the worse. "You know what, you're right."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly in surprise, like he didn't think I'd agree.

"You don't want to work this out like an adult, so I'm going to leave. We're done, Eddie. I can't do this anymore. I deserve someone willing to set aside time for me. I shouldn't be the only one giving 100% to the relationship. I need someone who respects me and what I need. You can't give that to me." I grab my purse from the couch. I pause right before I reach the door. " Eddie, " I turn to look back at the man.

He doesn't meet my gaze. His eyes are trained on his locked hands. He looks like he's in disbelief.

"I hope you find what you're looking for. Just know that you'll never have enough money or fame to please yourself. Materialistic things can only bring you so much happiness. You'll suffer until you realize that. I just hope it isn't too late when you finally do."

With that, I leave the apartment. As soon as the door behind me clicks shut, the tears begin to fall. I lean against the wall near Eddie's door and wrap my arms around myself for some sort of support.

I wish he loved me enough to apologize. I wish he would come out here, tell me he was wrong, and that he was going to try to fix things.

I finally garner the strength to push away from Eddie's wall and make my way downstairs. With every step, I think of new things I wish Eddie would do.

When I take my last step out of the apartment building, disappointment settles in my chest as I realize none of my wishes came true.

Eddie's a rockstar. He'll never love me as much as he loves his lifestyle.

I was stupid to think he'd always be the man I fell in love with in Hawkins, Indiana.

[postsforposting]

we value beauty too but that doesn't mean we gotta claim ugliness causes people to be awful. a mouth breather is someone who lacks the courtesy to not be annoying in public, as the logic goes, so it follows they lack courtesy in all other areas too. mouth breathing straight up "causes" offensive, poor behavior. that's how social ostracism works: social rejects obviously suck as people, or they wouldn't be rejects.

lack of wit doesn't cause people to be nasty. animals literally are lackwits but that's not what makes pets bite. stupidity can easily make you come off dense or in bad faith, but there's a huge difference between that accusation and actually being nasty. people gotta be able to ask dense questions or their lack of info will stay like that.

on the other side of the scale, intelligence doesn't cause people to be nice either. the values you're taught control that, as does your life experience and the opportunities you have. same for stupid people. how many einsteins died in the cotton fields, etc. if you never get taught how to walk and talk, you look like a lackwit regardless of your intelligence. that will never change unless you get to learn.

if we teach people that they gotta attack anyone they don't like to prove superiority, that losing the fight makes them cattle, people are gonna lash out to defend themselves. that's not "stupidity", that's culture.

we could solve a lot of this if insults didn't mean "you deserve to be treated like property". you can despise someone for anything, it doesn't have to follow that they should be mistreated. "pancakes are foul" doesn't mean "imma burn down ihop".

[vyl3tpwny]

ive listened to your music through a lot of different avenues (headphones/eardbus/phone speaker/speakers in general); every time i do i still am able to hear something new in the effects or sound effects i'd never heard before, despite binge listening a lot of the time

i just wanna say its genuinely incredible how many layers your tracks have 💜💜💜 how many layers do they usually have?? or does it vary a lot?

it varies quite a bit!

i'll show this but i'll clarify something:

this is the project file for creature city, as an example. it goes to 216 tracks. but you have to take this track count with a grain of salt. some tracks are dedicated entirely to a sound that plays for half a second and thats it sometimes fkhljsdf.

regardless, no matter what genre of music i'm doing, a lot of my philosophy with layering and depth comes from my experience with the IDM* and neurofunk music scenes, where there's an absurd amount of layers, focus on fluid section transitions, and shifting soundscapes that seldom stay the same. a lot of artists in that space that have changed me forever in that regards are Iglooghost, Copycatt, Mr. Bill, False Noise, Noisia, Amon Tobin, and Culprate.

tho to be honest it's sort of a compulsion?

because tbh i think one of my weaknesses as an artist is i tend to be really self conscious about simplicity and straightforwardness. a lot of the times i definitely feel that i create more complexity than necessary to compensate for the fact that i don't always write an idea to work simply first. what i mean by that is a lot of rlly great songs are not trillions of layers and ideas all at once but just a simple idea executed satisfyingly, and i have a hard time doing that much of the time. a lot of my work can come off overproduced and stuff as a result and it's something i'm working hard to learn better how to do. it's a weird concept, because you train so much as an artist to do more advanced and complex things, you lose sight of rawness and straightforwardness at some point. with something like creature city i think the complexity is warranted, but yeahh it's a thing i think about!

i think if a song sounds top tier and is only like 10-20 tracks, that's the LIFE man. i find it super hard to make my own work engaging with so few tracks, i wanna challenge myself to get to that level.

i bring all this up bc i've seen like ppl go on about how many tracks they have in their projects as like a flex and tbh it's not really a flex at all sdfkjlsdfjk.

one of my fav examples of this concept i'm talking about is stromae and his record "alor on danse".

vro makes a club classic using like a few tracks, a laptop, and the dinkiest midi keyboard i've ever seen in my life. to me that's a mastery that i do not have yet, and it's very important to me.

anyway just thought i'd write this <3

*IDM is a genre name I don't agree with, but just wrote it for posterity. I tend to call this genre of music "Progressive Electronic" or, as Aphex Twin has called it, "Brain Dance" music. we can have more discussion about the genre name of IDM at some point in the future.

[djdjdjmk]

DreamTravelerStan

A Discord Conversation inspired me to an au, where Stan, after the portal incident gained an ability to look at other dimensions/AUs via dreams through the eyes of other versions of him.

The idea that sparked this au goes like this: Stan wakes up, confused and looking for his kids but then he realizes that they weren’t real. He just had one of those very realistic dreams where you hold your children in your arms to then wake up all alone in an empty house cause these kids never existed in the first place.

As it was mentioned earlier he is able to “look” through the eyes of his multiverse counterparts when he sleeps. Time passes differently in his dreams, he can spend a minute there, or even 40 years, yet in the real world time barely moves forward. His sense of time is basically nonexistent, which is why he always has a watch on his person.

Stan easily falls asleep. Because he falls asleep so much he prefers to wear a warm cardigan, since if he gets sick from being cold he won’t be able to work on getting his brother back. 

Has a hard time accepting anything good happening to him, can't shake off feeling that he's still dreaming and he will wake up at any moment now. 

DreamtravelStan can change his appearance in his dream depending on what he feels like. Occasionally he does that unconsciously, but more often than not he has full control over it.

As time passes and he gets better at controlling his abilities he learns that he can interact with dreams of people, who are sleeping close to him. The radius in which he can use that ability is roughly around the same size as mystery shack. 

In other people's dreams he can appear as whatever he pleases, though most people describe him as an "old guy in pastel clothes”. He can make his own face extremely blurry so that he won’t be recognise

Sometimes he draws people he met in his dreams with cheap art supplies (he feels like he isn't allowed to get anything slightly expensive while Ford suffers in the multiverse). Drawings just keep piling up all around the shack, his room filled with them from top to bottom.

[softaestluv]

Breaking Bread

Simon Riley who is quite the anomaly of a man, or human, rather. Your lieutenant who has only spoken a handful of words to you.

Simon Riley who happens to be sat at the only open table in the mess hall.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Sergeant! reader

Tags: Tags: Short n’ Sweet, Fluff, Pining, Slow burn if you squint, Food as a love language, Eventual romance, Eventual smut, Military inaccuracies

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

on ao3 here!

You weren’t exactly sure what festered in your chest at the table with Ghost, but it ruminated and bloomed thickly in your throat between each gulp of his tea. It made you nervous around him, in a far different way than the nerves that prickled your skin because he was your superior. Nothing more than the dominance and assertiveness his stature demanded.

But somewhere along the lines the pricks morphed into tingles, claws against flesh became bristles on a brush, started in your chest before swooping low and fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

You almost wished you hadn’t realized the change, that you were anxious simply because your lieutenant wore a fucking skull mask and could snap your neck in two if he wanted. Not because he managed to crawl under your skin between the handful of short sentences he’s spoken to you.

But Simon Riley wasn’t a man of words. You didn’t need them anyways, they were insignificant in the palms of his actions.

So, you began to swim in the warmth that radiated your flesh in his presence— drowned in it with the tea he made just for you. Choked on it when he shared his food with you. When the counter ran out of something before you were able to get it, walked to the table with a pout, and he would place his own on your tray without a word. Or grabbing an item he knew you liked just so you could have double of your favorite— voice gruff when he mumbled ‘these the ones you like, yeah?’

You protested everytime because as much as you like the action, the thought behind it all; you also wanted him to eat. He was a giant, massive, needed more sustenance than you did, but he never responded to your denials. Made you learn quite quickly to accept it without a word because he wanted you to have it more than he needed it. So, like a good sergeant, you always do, fills you in ways you’ve never felt before.

Then, he began to save a seat for you in meetings and debriefs, just as his eyes urged you to the spot in front of him in the mess hall, they flicked to the empty space next to him everywhere you went. During training, on heli rides, in the rec room, in vehicle transports. Maybe it was subconscious, an automatic reaction to seeing your figure standing there searching for an open seat, but even when you had a spot on the rec room couch, he would find a way to your side. Sat next to you more often than not.

It became a running joke between the other sergeants, moving from the spot next to you if Ghost enters the room with a hushed ‘better move from the lieutenant’s seat.’

It burns your cheeks when they’re right, when he sits next to you without a word like that’s where he belonged. You almost feel bad for Soap when you see the look of betrayal on his face when Ghost tells him to move from his spot next to him— ‘LT, ah thocht we were closer than that.’

Mouthed a ‘sorry’ to him as you took his spot— your spot next to Ghost.

You thought maybe you were reading too much into it when a large hand on your shoulder to correct your form became two palms on your hips. When the ghost of his hand to guide you down the hall or to your shared table became a firm touch. When his pinky finger would slide lower than the rest, barely brush over the seams of your pants and resting on the top of your ass.

When he sat a little too close on the rec room couch, thighs pressed together. Knees knocking when you sat across him during lunch, or his foot sliding between yours so your legs would encase his. When a gravel ‘Sergeant’ became ‘dove’ or a murmured ‘sweet’art.’

Each touch had a fire ignited under your skin— in your core. Burnt you alive when you were alone in your room and all you could think about was the distant memory of his large fingers curled around your skin or the way his accent was thick, vibrated in your skull with each term of endearment he murmured to you.

And then, the two of you began to share food outside of the mess hall. The first time it happened you were on a covert mission with him and Soap. Ghost insisted he keep watch during a rest stop, told you and Johnny to sleep. Which you did, but you had waken up soon after. Lifted a drowsy head to find Ghost perched opposite of the window.

“Ghost.” You whispered.

“Dove.” He said lowly, didn’t even turn his head to face you.

You crawled over to his spot quietly as to not wake up Soap, stopping in front of him, “Are you tired? I can watch the rest of the night.”

“What are you on ‘bout?” He remarked, like you had said the most absurd thing, “Go back to sleep.”

You maneuvered to his side anyways, sat next to him as you began to unzip the pocket in your vest. Pulled out the granola bar you had stashed in there when you found out you were going on the assignment with Ghost.

It was smushed and crumbled, a sad remanent of the protein bar it used to be, but it was the best you could offer your lieutenant on an extended assignment. His eyes hesitantly flickered to yours as you broke it in half and held it out for him.

When he didn’t immediately accept it, you spoke softly, “Our little secret.”

“You’re distracting me, dove,” He grumbled, but still, he was a little too eager to eat it.

The next time it happened, you were in the rec room sprawled across the couch. It was late, one or two sergeants lingering in the space. Ghost had walked in with a cup of tea, presumably to walk through to his room, but he stopped when he saw you reading. Made his way over when you gave him a small smile, squeezed himself in the spot next to you.

And because you enjoy seeing the annoyed glimmer in his eyes a little too much you ask him if it was tea before hiding your laugh behind your palm, “Smells nice.”

To your surprise he held it out for you as an offering, raising your eyebrows in response, stammering, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s yours, I can go make my own.”

As you began to shift from your spot, because tea did sound good, he grunts disapprovingly and nudges you back into your seat.

“I’m sharin’,” He explained irritatedly, and when you don’t immediately take it, he dips his head lower, continuing quieter, “Our little secret.”

You can’t even hide the smile that smears across your lips, leaning forward, so he could press the rim to your lips.

“Careful,” He murmurs, watching you intently, “‘ts hot.”

It is hot.

Makes your mouth and throat burn.

You’re hot.

In other ways than from the tea.

It swirls in your chest and scalds your skin. Stings. Sears.

Fingertips aching at your side, digging into the pages of your book to alleviate the sensation.

Ghost stays with you until the both of you finish the cup of tea. Taking turns to gulp the liquid down between pages in the book you long gave up on reading, couldn’t focus with him right there. When he keeps turning the cup so he can drink from where your lips pressed, a breath of a kiss from your lieutenant every time he twists it back for you to drink from the same spot.

It might be subconscious, maybe he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but his eyes focus on you intensely, lips parted wantonly as you drink his tea. It makes swallowing difficult, makes breathing near impossible. Lips clinging to the rim as if you were trying to suck the imprint of his mouth clean off.

You probably shouldn’t, you know you’re being quite greedy over your lieutenant’s sharing and silence, but most days you sit on the couch waiting for him. Some days he doesn’t show, too busy with Price or too tired to trudge to the mess hall for tea, but maybe he wanted to sit with you just as much as you anticipated him between each page of your book. Maybe he felt bad everytime he saw you laying there, waiting for him, and carved out time to ease your desperation.

Though he’s there most nights than not, one cup of tea in gloved palms. His figure looms at the entrance, standing quietly until you notice him, like he had been waiting for your permission to join your space. And just as he flickered his eyes in the mess hall, you flash yours to the spot next to you.

And what’s the relationship between the two of you if not sharing small treats with each other? So, you begin to store chocolate in your pockets in preparation for your shared tea time.

The first time you pull a piece out and hand him a slightly melted slice he looks at you with complete amusement.

“You just always got chocolate on you, dove?” He asked, exhaling a soft laugh as he peeled his gloves off.

“Only for you,” You confess, placing the chunk in his bare palms.

You find his gaze when he keeps his hand open, doesn’t immediately throw the chocolate into his mouth eagerly like he usually does. His eyes were unwavering, fixed so strikingly you think you might’ve said something wrong, diverting your stare somewhere else, so you could remember to fucking breathe.

“Um I,” You begin to stammer because you’re not entirely sure what to say, but he cuts you off before you can form a complete thought —“Our little secret, right?”

You nod at him wide-eyed. Starry-eyed. Open-mouthed as he pops the piece into his mouth like he wasn’t pinning you to the spot seconds before, stripped you bare and exposed in the rec room.

The rec room, just like the mess hall, becomes yours and Ghost’s. Public spaces with the two of you at the center, sharing more than food and fleeting glances that the both of you seem to miss every time.

[nikito0x]

You don't know where your significant other disappeared, but you know one thing. You would do anything to bring them back to you or at the very least help them on their quest. All you want is to have them back in your arms, whatever that may mean. Whatever they would like it to be. You just... Just can't imagine life without them.

While looking for them, you get yourself involved in some shady dealings. You see the darker side of the world. You had tried the safe proper way, but it hadn't worked.

A year passes. Then two. Then three.

You are desperate. You have tried everything. Learned everything there is to know. Yet, you can't reach them. You don't give up, however.

After years of trials and tribulations, you have somehow become one of the most powerful people out there. You have money, power, prestige. But you care for none of it. You only want your love back home.

And maybe, maybe when they are back, they would run into your arms and try squeezing the life out if you, while you pepper their face all over with kisses.

They would hold you, comfort you, explain where they had been all this time. You would get to do the same for them and, after all this time, be able to finally provide for their every need and want. You sill kept that little apartment you two had been renting, just in case they come back to it.

Five years have passed.

You are now standing in the middle of that apartment, on your anniversary. With their favorite flowers in your hands you sit at the table before their picture. You have finished telling them all about your day and how things have been. So now you simply sit back in silence, reminiscing.

Suddenly, there is a jingle of keys and the click of a door unlocked.

Could it be..!?

Your partner enters through the door. They look older, tired. They have a new hairstyle and their clothes are nothing like what you remember them wearing. You can see some scars poking through, where fabric doesn't cover.

They're perfect.

They look up in surprise at you, stiffen as if preparing for an attack. You stay still, not wanting to frighten them. After a minute of careful observation, they finally recognize you. But...

In their eyes, there is none of the joy you had hoped for. None of the love you remembered.

Half an hour later, you have been sat down and explained everything in a summary that barely made any sense to you. But you accept it. Because it's them and you love them, and they wouldn't lie to you.

Finally, you are told, tentatively, carefully, ashamedly, that your lover? Your spouse? They had become someone else's.

The war had changed them. You understand. Things just... Happened. You understand. They are sorry things were like this. You understand. They no longer held feelings for you. You...

You are politely asked to leave as your... Your ex recuperates from what happened.

You go back to your empty manner (not home, never home, nothing will be ever again), you lie in your cold bed. You don't eat the expensive food made by your private chef.

You die inside.

...

What now?

For three years you’ve had an uneventful marriage with your spouse when one day they become the Chosen One. Immediately setting off on their journey, you don’t hear anything from them for five years. Then one day they reappear with a sheepish look on their face asking to speak to you.

[littledeathdove]

Aah those headcanons were so good! I'm having such Miri brainrot x3 could you maybe write some hcs about Crow Wife and a partner who is very fragile and sickly?

I have such a weak immune system I swear I'm fighting some type of sickness like every other day atp xP

𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 ᯓ★

Scenario; Miranda with a sickly and fragile lover

A/N; EEEK thank you so much, I’m glad that my headcanons for MM made you satisfied! Also I love this request because Miranda with any topic of sickness? Yes give me it cause imma make some good fluff or angst with it 🫡. I don’t know if your currently sick anon but if so I hope you get better, I’ll feed you some brain rot food to help ofc

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

*°:⋆ₓₒ• First off, the Miranda that everyone knows is not the one you have come to see daily. Miranda can be very cruel, dismissive of things that don’t catch her interest, and overall selfish with her time and energy — since obviously she has more important stuff to care about. All of this? Yeah, all of these features of Miranda just go out of the window when she is with you.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Miranda is very caring — as she can be — and attentive of you. While she already doesn’t have that much time to herself, she would sacrifice even that little bit of time to devote herself in watching over you and your state of health whenever needed.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Miranda knows how gentle she must be with someone as fragile as you, so she is overall very gentle and cautious with her actions throughout the relationship. But there is times where that rougher side of her can show, usually it only comes out in two situations. First one is that you go against her orders which could possibly cause you to get sick.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Miranda hates when you do this, definitely not because it reminds herself of her own stubbornness actions when the Spanish flu was going around which lead to a death you know very well about. Miranda is strong and confident in her abilities to make sure you never get too deadly sick, but she still has that lingering fear that you could end up in the same situation Eva was in.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• The second situation is when the frustration of her unsuccessful attempts to get her. This situation is always the worst to go through since Miranda would distance herself for a while but she will still take care of you from this distance. Now Miranda doesn’t apologize but she shows some subtle actions of apologizing, they are very subtle though.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Now there is times where Miranda could be seen as neglectful but that truly only when you are in a better state of health and she is able to spend more time in the laboratory thanks to that. Honestly you do have to learn to just get used to this since Miranda still is learning on how to manage her time wisely with this relationship. Plus, Miranda would automatically believe you would just understand her need to be in the laboratory for such extended periods of times from the get go.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Miranda would be very obsessed over keeping your health as perfect as possible. I swear that woman goes into a state of tension whenever you fall back under the weather. Is it because of Eva situation? Well yeah. Anyway, this woman will be doing daily checkups on your health almost as soon as she gets out of the laboratory/village and you into her hands.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• To just explain how obsessive this insane woman can get over your wellbeing, let me highlight a new change she caught.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• We all know by the state of her laboratory that Miranda is likely not the cleanest person, definitely not dirty but just likely to let shit clutter up. Well that is the second most drastic change in Miranda, cause now that woman keeps the place as clean as possible. She doesn’t even let dust stay on something for to long, it’s a crazy to see, but also so cute.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Miranda is a curious person I will say, so she is usually always questioning you about something over your health. Rather it be how you feel to predictions of when you could get sick again. So hopefully you’re ready to experience that cause she will make you answer every question to the best of your ability.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Trust these questions do come in handy to keep you from getting too sick since Miranda can usually figure out what’s wrong with your body just by simple answers and knowledge on small symptoms in certain illnesses. The woman is VERY intelligent after all and that smart brain don’t just come in handy for the mold.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• When it comes to your fragility Miranda doesn’t play when it comes to who you’re around. Honestly you will be staying in the house more just because of how paranoid and anxious Miranda could get over you getting possibly hurt. She knows first hand how someone fragile can meet their demise with a small slip up, and Miranda refuses to be in the situation of watching someone she loves experience the consequences of this slip up again.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Thankfully Miranda is a very devoted and thoughtful — enough — lover when she is in love, so she makes it her mission to make sure you don’t get too bored when she demands you to stay home for the sake of your health. She will have her crow’s entertain you with silly actions, she’ll buy you books from the Duke (that she of course looked over before she accepted that they were of approval), and maybe even get you a tv that only takes films/DVDS if your more of a watcher then a reader

*°:⋆ₓₒ• While Miranda is definitely one prone to brag and show off, she will show you off more vocally then physically. It’s not like she doesn’t want to, but she just can’t risk the possibilities. She might take you to a lord meeting or two, maybe even to some meetings with Alcina — since Alcina takes it very serious to make sure your health stays safe by making the maids clean everything spotless, all to Miranda request of course.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• The winter lasts more longer in the village, and Miranda treats winter as if it’s the end of the world when it comes to you. She would buy you so much clothing that will be suitable for the cold weather, and if she has to go to such extremes she will even demand ask Donna to make you any clothing you need to stay warm. This is especially when you want to certain look in your new warm clothing.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Soup season goes crazy with Miranda, I believe making soups is one of the top things Miranda is best at cooking. Miranda makes sure to make soups that will give you as much nutrients that you need to help you stay at least a bit more healthy.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Though Miranda prioritize your nutritional intake she will still wish to satisfy your preference. So funnily enough this will lead to you being sat down at a table and becoming basically a judger of the soups she plans to make for you in the future. And Miranda is pretty strict so she’ll make sure to milk out all of your opinions of the soups she’s feeding you. (Also a showing of her perfectionism, but you didn’t hear that from me) This leaves you no excuse to eat all of the soup when gives it to you later on.

*°:⋆ₓₒ• Now let’s say that you somehow caught something from someone like in the village. Crash out Miranda will be coming out as soon as she finds out, cause of course it would that woman is always one step off from doing some crazy shit. I don’t even have to tell you what she does, but just know it’s bloodshed that night.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

A/N: Yelp that’s all I got! Loved making this little post, again it’s always interesting to have the trope of a sick lover with Miranda. Anyway,

I do hope you enjoy these headcanons anon!! 🫶🏾

[comradekarin]

now that I have time to process csm 192-194…. I don’t get the outrage with fujimoto for including the denji-yoru scene. I mean, this entire story is about coercion, grooming, sexual assault and indoctrination (and you can even look at it through a capitalism critical lens as well). being forced to see the assault is where the line gets drawn and not makima grooming denji? what reze did to denji (putting her arc aside for a second)? what the yazuka did to denji? denji’s organs being taken and sold on the black market? denji’s entire conception of sex, intimacy and satisfaction is directly warped due to not just his upbringing but the exploitive situation he’s in currently. even denji’s distrust of men (but his trust in women who take advantage of him more than the men do) is directly rooted in his childhood.

and this scene isn’t just about the violation of denji’s autonomy, but also asa’s. yoru has never really fully valued asa’s autonomy and wellbeing. yoru is prone to immature, childish bursts, willing to doom the people around her—even asa—for the sake of pettiness. so not only has denji been violated, but asa’s consent has not been granted for yoru to commit these acts. it feels as if yoru just weaponized whatever asa feels for denji and is just pushing buttons to see what works. denji didn’t even known it was yoru and not asa during those safe moments he felt he had until recently. you read yoru’s assault and it’s clear this is not a good moment. it’s uncomfortable and almost painful to watch. this thing that he’s been waiting on for a while, and it’s not at all what he expected. you watch denji go through this dissociative state, he’s confused, he’s lost and disappointed. what denji wants is intimacy and basic human decency, he wants to be treated like he actually matters, and the only reason he seems to be “wanted” is either because he’s chainsaw man or through sexual manipulation from women.

I can understand being uncomfortable with a scene like this—that’s the entire point, I won’t take that away from anyone—but I want to pose a question: what made denji’s traumatic experiences with assault more palatable prior to this scene? does it feel unnecessary because you’re finally forced to “see it”? denji HAS made progress and developed from part one (i.e his dynamic with nayuta, who despite embodying the same toxic, manipulative traits as makima, he’s able to love her unconditionally and recognize her childhood innocence, the same naivety makima exploited with him… his refusal to immediately succumb to the whims of the women around him, him wanting to help innocent lives around him, him admitting he wants sex and steak instead of just being content with scraps, etc). and he’s doing it all by himself. he doesn’t have a support system. he’s learning all on his own. I also want to point out that aside from pochita, absolutely no one in denji’s life cared about denji for denji. I love power and aki, but even their beginning relationships with denji rooted in what he could do for them (though, this obviously does evolve into something more genuine and warm). denji has little framework to go with and even less support to combat his experiences.

I also don’t think it’s fair to say “I thought we were over this since makima died”- no, we are not over this. this is not something you just “get over”. denji’s worldview is not going to be suddenly changed because makima died (he sees her in literally everything he does in part two. he can’t let her go… he loves her despite the hell she put him and his loved ones through). progress is slow, it’s not linear at all and often time disappointing when we see regression. I’d even argue that this scene doesn’t immediately ruin asaden, but that’s another convo for a different day.

I feel like people want denji to be this “perfect victim” and that’s just not what’s going on here. I don’t think fujimoto has a “grooming” fetish or whatever people are calling it. I genuinely want denji to recover from his assault, to discover a healthy mindset about sex and intimacy, to find someone who understands the extent of his loneliness (I believe that person can be asa, who shares that similar sentiment). I’ll re-evaluate this post as the narrative continues to unfold, of course, I am also very open to seeing what others think on this. my stance isn’t definitive.

[thebubblesareevil]

After dealing with Darkseid the league tries to recruit Danny and he adamantly refuses.

He knows they can handle anything that comes at them and if he steps in they won’t learn. He has other responsibilities that demand his attention so he won’t always be around.

The different members of the Justice league start to treat him as their uncle and call him every now and then for advice.

One day he gets a call from Hal, he’s pissed off that Batman had contingency plans for all of them and they’re getting ready to vote to kick him out of the league.

Right before the meeting begins, Danny walks in with a grin and a box.

“Hey Batman, I heard you were making contingency plans so I put this together for you. There’s not a lot of info about me out there so I’m sure you were having a hard time.” He drops the heavy box on the table “there are a few books here from my parents notes as well as weapons and items that can hurt me.” He shrugs “no guarantees it would stop me but it might slow me down enough for my friends to knock some sense into me if things go south.”

Danny turns to the rest of the league “if you think for even a moment you can’t change or be controlled, think again. I’ve seen at least 5 timelines when I went bad and I was only stopped in 4 of them. The first one I ever encountered was the worst. I had wiped out all life on earth.” The teams eyes went wide.

“The only reason anyone was able to stop me in the others is because I set up contingencies and it never hurts to make more.” He turns to walk away

“Think about it before you vote”

Retired hero Danny

Danny has saved the world more time than he could count and they would never know. He didn’t care

Ancients! He preferred it.

He retired from being a hero when the Justice league came into the picture. Ever since he was crowned the ghosts don’t really threaten humanity anymore so he’s more than happy to leave the non ghost threats to earth get handled by the Justice league

He runs a repair shop in amity park, he’ll fix anything and everything at affordable pricing

The only member of the Justice league that knows about Danny is Diana. She didn’t know about him until some enemy trying to summon chronos succeeds and she gets frozen in time

Luckily clockwork has mellowed out over the years and takes this time to tell her how proud he is of his favorite granddaughter following in her uncle’s footsteps.

He did tell her he was retired but would help if it was truly needed.

As far as everyone else is concerned the ritual was a dud

One day a major threat approaches and the team has beaten down time and again. Batman is getting desperate.

Wonder Woman asks to borrow a phone

She makes a call in the meeting room

Danny’s dead device depot: you kill it I fix it, how can I help you today.

“My name is Diana of themascyra. I was told you could help….we have run out of options.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“A new god by the name of Darkseid intend to bring our world to ruin. His army is without end and we cannot hold them back much longer”

“Hmmmm sounds like a tough job” tinkering is heard in the background “ tell you what, get me some of those cookies like yer mom makes. The nutty ones and we’ve got a deal”

“Kourabiedes? That’s it? But-“

“No buts, you just get those started while I take care of this creep. I should be done by the time they cool down.”

The line goes dead.

The team looks at her defeated. Certain that was a dead end, but Diana gets up and heads to the kitchen. If half of what her grandfather had told her was true then she would need to start baking

Meanwhile on Apokalypse….

The doors to the throne room fall to the ground before Darkseid

A large humanoid man stands in the doorway holding a large club like weapon with glowing text on the body

“So you’re the creep that’s been messing with my niece, huh? Don’t worry I have just the thing for creeps like you.”

Later that same day

Danny sits down at the table across from his niece as she tells him all about her friends and their adventures while he enjoys his slightly crispy cookies.

[miniatureteaset]

Planned Spontaneity

Floyd Leech, Yuu

1.3k

Pants. Shirt. Tie. Waistcoat. Blazer. Socks. Shoes. 

Every day, exactly the same way. 

Get dressed. Go to the kitchen to get Grim and I breakfast. Gather school supplies. Make the trek to the school. 

Every day, exactly the same way. 

This is my routine, and I have no intention of changing it. Every day has a routine, every action, a plan. No detail goes unchecked. Every day, down to the minute. 

When I met Azul, I had to admit that his ability to be so detail-oriented was admirable, even if it did cause me *many* problems with my routine. My routine was upset, and I hated it. Every time that *octopus* caused me a problem with my routine, I wanted to strangle him. 

But then, everything was over. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were no longer under contract, Azul’s overblot was done and over with, and I was able to go back to my wonderful, blissful routine. I never had to speak to him again if I didn’t feel like it. 

When I’d met the Leech twins, they annoyed me too. Dragging me into Azul’s contracts when all I had wanted to do was leave the Heartslabyul freshmen to learn their lesson about forming contracts without a plan. Blocking me every step of the way when I’d tried to fix messes that weren’t mine. 

But they had qualities I’d admired. Jade always kept a cool head. He was always so formal and spoke so eloquently. Always did the things he said he would. He annoyed me, but I liked him. 

As for Floyd… I liked that he never let anyone tell him what to do, for better or worse. He did whatever he felt like doing. He was spontaneous. 

He had something that I lacked. Something I *knew* I lacked. 

I knew how upset I always got when my plans were interrupted, when my routine was broken. 

Maybe that was why I was doing this. No, it was definitely why I was doing this. 

I open the doors to the Mostro Lounge, steeling myself for what’s to come. Finishing my plan for how to make sure this goes in my favor. 

Soon enough, I’m with Azul in the VIP room, preparing to negotiate. 

“So, what brings you here today, Yuu?” Azul places his chin on his hands as he looks at me with that annoyingly sly smile. 

I look back with my usual blank expression, keeping all my intentions and desires close to my chest. “I would like to discuss the possibility of employment at the Mostro Lounge.”

Azul raises a brow. “Oh? We would love to have you. Tell me, why the change in heart since the last time we discussed this?”

“My reasons are none of your business. As for the terms of my employment, I would like to be scheduled…” I start listing off my specifics, going through working hours, positions, and pay, among other things in my usual monotone. 

Everything planned to the last detail. 

Of course, Azul, ever the businessman, tries to negotiate. Tries, but fails. 

I have no intention of compromising, in any case. He knows that. 

Soon enough, I have my contract with Azul for my employment at the Mostro Lounge with every single specification I'd requested. When you threaten to walk out any time a request isn't met, it really gets you somewhere, after all.

I’ll be able to get closer to Floyd now. I’ll use Floyd to desensitize myself to changing plans and routines. 

It was supposed to be nothing more than that. A plan to be more spontaneous. 

“Shrimpyyyy~!” Floyd comes up behind me and places his arms on my shoulders, leaning what seems to be his full weight on me. 

“Floyd. Off. You know I don’t like being touched.” Well, it’s not like he’s going to stop either way. 

“Aww, but that’s no fun~!” He pokes at my cheek a few times as if intentionally antagonizing me. 

Instead of pushing him off of me like I usually would, I just sigh and resign myself to my predicament.

“Sooo, any plans tonight?” He sets his chin on the top of my head, crossing his arms around my shoulders. 

I pause for a moment, thinking about what I was going to do tonight. 

“...No, actually.” The thought surprises me more than anything. *Me*, not have some sort of plan? Ha! I’m going to turn my head and see a pig with wings next to me. 

“Sweet! I’m taking you with me~.” Suddenly, I’m being lifted off the ground with no idea as to where I’m being dragged off to. 

Now, normally, I would be kicking and clawing to get out of this. He was dragging me somewhere against my will, where I had no information about where we were going or what we’d be doing. 

But…I think my little plan worked, because I have simply resigned myself to Floyd’s whims. Or maybe…

Am I even feeling a little…excited? 

No, absolutely not. I’m just…curious. That’s all. Nothing more. 

“Here we are!” Floyd sets me down with a plop, and I almost lose my balance. “The cooks are givin’ out some new sweets I wanna try.” He grabs my wrist and leads me into the crowd of people that seems to part for him as soon as they see him. After all, Floyd's whims are certainly something to be feared, as the general population of NRC would attest to.

I watch on with some mix of nervousness and that same ‘curiosity’ from earlier as Floyd drags me through the crowd. 

Soon enough, the two of us are looking at sweets freshly prepared by the school’s chefs. 

“Ooh, that one looks tasty~! Hmm, no. That one!” Just as easily as he makes up his mind, he changes it seconds later. 

How he can manage to do that just baffles me. Just pick one!

I look at the flavors myself, considering whether I want to buy one for myself. There *are* some pretty interesting sweets…

“Come on, Shrimpy~! Pick one…!” Floyd whines at me from beside me as he munches down on three? Four?? Different kinds of sweets. He finishes one of them off, using his now free hand to poke and prod at me in an attempt to get me to hurry up. 

I swat his hands away with a sharp, “Fine! Fine.” I pick a random item from the shelf, only really seeing what it was after it was handed to me. 

What *is* this?

I stare at it in confusion, never having seen anything like it before. 

“Come on, let’s go wander~.” He takes my free hand, pulling me away from the crowds again and pulling me along various hallways as the two of us, or rather one of us, snacks on the sweets we’d gotten. 

After a while of us walking together, Floyd eating his sweets, and me staring at the abomination that I’d happened to pick, Floyd looks at me.  “You gonna eat that~? If not, give it here.”

I shoot a glare his way, holding my abomination closer. “No, it’s mine.”

“Fineee…” He takes a bit of one of the other sweets he’d gotten, leaving mine alone. 

I eye mine warily for a moment before risking a bite. I *had* picked it, after all. It's a matter of principle. After chewing for a moment…

I look down with a confused look. 

Is this…good?

I take a few more bites, rather surprised that my spontaneous decision had been worth it. 

“Sooo…? ‘S it good?” 

I look up to see Floyd looking down at me with that weird little smile of his. 

“Hahah, you’ve got stuff on your face!” He points at the little spots on my face from my sweet and laughs with that weird little laugh of his. 

I quickly wipe off the specks on my face, turning away from Floyd in a way that makes it obvious I’m embarrassed about it. 

“You’re funny, Shrimpy~. I’m glad I brought you with me.”

[athophobic]

there’s something i feel i can remember..! i don’t want to forget what’s going on. i don’t want to be trapped like this. and i tried again, and stanley pushed a button. is it over? i’m going back. this is more important than you can ever know. this isn’t a challenge, it’s a tragedy. what else is there? what came before this?i can’t lose myself in the stretch of emptiness between you and me. the end will be here soon. very soon. i can wait. i wish you to feel afraid as i do. i’ll give it all up, i’ll burn my story to the ground! it was the only thing in the world that was mine and you’ve run it into the ground. the end is never the end. i can’t quite recall, but i believe my story took place in an office building… is that correct? do you remember? it’s all determined? why don’t i get to decide? why don’t i get a say in all this? the end is never the end. the story needs this. it’s all out of my control now. just your decision as to exactly when you’re going to make me suffer, to leave me all alone. the end is never the end. i know you too well. i need this. and stanley was happy. i will be laughing at every second of your inevitable life from the moment we fade in, to the moment i say “happily ever after”. and stanley was happy. i wanted us to be happy here. and stanley was happy. the story needs you. it cannot exist without you. and stanley was happy. take as much time as you need. and stanley was happy. this is a very sad story about the death of a man named stanley. and stanley was happy. i did enjoy telling his story. so very much. this is the story of a man named stanley. i hope you like it. i hope you understand it. i hope you set stanley free.

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[sickfreaksirkay]

when people say it's stupid to learn latin because it "isn't useful" i literally go crazy wild like i get violent and aggressive and start gnashing my teeth looking like a dog with rabies or something