#you’re in the wrong and should correct your behaviour

[lambchop-soup]

Me: Why do there seem to be so few writers on tumblr these days?

Also me: (blocks every person who refuses to tag their fem!reader fics as fem!reader)

[drugsorgasmsandcheese]

trouble, j. miller | chapter three

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: you meet your best friend’s girlfriend for the first time, and you’ve never seen someone shit their pants more. and joel is so fucking done with you.

chapter warnings: reader’s sole purpose is to be an agent of chaos, strong language, implication of violence from reader, abby anderson appears guys, javier encourages your behaviour and is so ACHEKUSG, google translated spanish (PLEASE correct me if it’s wrong), no beta again LOL, dare i say it soft!joel??

word count: 1817

{series masterlist}

you’re sat waiting in a cafe, foot tapping against the tiled floor to its own rhythm. the cafe is about a fifteen minute walk away from your college campus, a place that you and georgia had made your second home. the coffee was cheap so that college students could afford it, and you had to admit, it was some of the best coffee you ever had. your favourite iced coffee had just been brought over to you, alongside a cookie that was warm and gooey.

as the door opens and the bell rings, you look up and lock eyes with georgia, sending a smile her way. you’re quick to notice the buff blonde behind her, dressed in a grey shirt and black cargos, her blonde hair in a braid. damn, you’d have to ask georgia for a threesome one day…

“hey, babe!” georgia exclaims, embracing you lightly before letting go as she turns to introduce you. “this is abby anderson.”

you give abby a once over, analysing her body language, her face, her placement in regards to georgia. she appeared intimidating, but her hand was locked with georgia’s. she stood behind your friend, her body relaxed and her breathing even. abby gave you a look that was welcoming, friendly, almost as if she knew who you were and was trying to make a good impression on you.

smart move.

“it’s nice to meet you, abby.” you hold out your hand for her to shake it, and she does so. you notice the slight sweat in her palm, clear anxiety over meeting georgia’s best friend who may or may not have tried to run her friend’s ex over with a car she’s not even legally allowed to drive.

“you…you too.” she stutters out, and they both take a seat as you take a sip out of your iced coffee once you released abby’s hand.

“so, abigail-”

“-abby.” georgia cuts you off, and you give her a look with a scary grin.

“what are your intentions with georgia?”

georgia sighs your name, and gives you a pleading look. “can we please not do this? abby’s been treating me good, better than anyone else i’ve ever dated. please.” her puppy dog eyes win you over.

“fuck, fine. but i just need you to know-” you turn to abby “-you should know this too. if any harm is done, i will be under your bed with a pocket knife ready to slit your ankles if anything happens to her.” you point at georgia. your tone is patronising, mocking abby and you feel like a beast the way you feast upon her fear as she eagerly nods her head.

“good, now that’s out of the way. what do you study?” splitting your cookie in half, your lips forming an ‘o’ shape at the gooey delight, you take a bite out of one of the halves, looking abby dead in the eye.

“m…medicine.” there comes that stutter again, and you have to stifle a laugh because you’re sure georgia has filled her with stories about your behaviour towards anyone who has ever wronged her, but has then cut her own story off with “but she’s one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet once she knows i’m safe with you!”

you do warm up to abby throughout the next hour and a half the three of you are sat in the cafe, and you can tell she feels the same. she’s less tense, her face relaxed and no more stuttering. you see how openly affectionate she is with georgia, how soft she speaks and the admiration in her eyes for georgia’s simple existence. abby anderson is good for her, you can feel it.

the three of you walk back up to your college campus, and you catch the sight of a familiar man and his sexy porsche. joel leans against the car, arms folded over his chest, scowl on his face as he beckons you over with that little movement of his fingers.

you’re starting to feel seduced by that movement.

when you walk over to him, his head meets your level. “i’ve been waitin’ here for an hour.”

your eyebrows furrow, eyes squinting and your lips purse a little. “did you tell me you were here?”

“no.”

your eyes widen, shaking your head “so how the fuck would i know you’ve been waiting for an hour?”

“get your ass in the car.” he commands, and his eyes travel past you and seem to focus on something. you turn your body to meet where he looks, and the only reason why you pick up on it is because him and abby are staring at each other.

“what, have you never seen lesbians before? god, joel, this is embarrassing.” you roll your eyes and get into the passenger seat of his car. you don’t see the nod he gives abby, or the one who she gives back to him, because the second joel is in the driver’s seat, he’s out of the parking lot and driving to the club.

“i told you to only text me with work related things.” he starts, turning a street corner and you lick your lips when his hands clench onto the wheel.

“i do only text you work related things.”

joel gives you a quick look, his face conveying every emotion possible. “askin’ me if i think you’d win in a fight against the shark from ‘jaws’ isn’t a work related question!”

“i don’t see the problem here.” you shrug.

“you asked me at four in the mornin’!”

“and yet you responded, so you can’t complain.” you stick your tongue out at him as you soon pull into the parking lot of apocalypse, and you both get out, with joel opening any and all doors for you.

when you get to the v.i.p. section, you spot javier, and you immediately shout his name. when he turns around, he grins. “mi amor, i missed you.”

“missed you too, honeybunch.” you smile, hopping onto the bar top. “do you think i could win a fight against the shark from ‘jaws’?”

he looks at you, finger tipping up your chin with a smirk. “in a heartbeat, cariño.” his eyes scan your face, flicking back and forth as he takes in your features, and he lets out a low chuckle when you giggle.

“see, javier thinks i could win!” you shout at joel and he grumbles as he makes his way over.

he points at javier. “stop encouraging her behaviour.” he turns to you. “an’ you need to go get ready.” he grabs your hand, helping you jump off the bar top and steadying you as your feet meet the floor.

“goodbye, beautiful!” you wave javier goodbye.

“adios, bonita.” he bids, grabbing your hand from its previous position and gently kissing it, and it suddenly comes to your attention that you would not mind being between joel and javier, one fucking into your cunt and the other with his cock down your th-

“move your ass.” joel’s hand is firm against the back of your neck, but there’s something gentle about the way he touches you, hesitant almost. he guides you to the room with all the dancers in, and you make yourself at home, saying hi to adele, lucy, chelsea, destiny, and the rest of the girls as you get ready for your shift.

____

“i was thinking-”

“that’s not good.” joel cuts you off. you had barged into his office, lying down on his sofa and talking to him like he was your therapist.

your head snaps towards him, mouth agape in shock. “rude!” you throw a decorative pillow at him which he swiftly dodges, even with his back turned to you as he sorts through paperwork. “as i was saying before i was interrupted, i was thinking that you order me pizza.”

joel’s chair swivels round to face you. “an’ why would i do that when i’ve got chefs here?”

you groan. “‘cause i want a real greasy pizza from the place down the street.”

“tough shit, now get to workin’.” you whine at his words, kicking your legs against the sofa like a spoiled toddler as you reluctantly get off of it and walk out of his office.

the rest of your shift goes by in a breeze. it’s not busy tonight, so you spend most of the time by the bar flirting with javier. he even pours you a shot and shows you the blind spot, pulling you close to him when you take the shot like a champ.

the guests tonight were easy. you had gained a lot of money in tips, and you, destiny, and lucy were sat counting your tips at the bar by the end of the night. you were stood behind the bar with javier, leaning your chest against it and you knew he was getting a good view of your ass because you had purposely put yourself in this position.

“mama’s done good tonight!” destiny cheers, throwing her hands up in the air, her knotless braids swinging as she does so.

“same here!” lucy squeals and you join too. you had to have javi recount your money just to make sure you’d done it right.

“feeling like a millionaire already.” the shout causes the girls to laugh, and javier shakes his head with a smile. he gently pats your ass, telling you to go change so you can sleep.

you do as he says, linking arms with destiny and lucy as you change into your original clothes once you get back to the dancer’s room. you’re sat with adele, your head resting on her shoulder like a child with her mother when joel’s voice baritones through the door demanding you.

you give a swift kiss to adele’s cheek, bidding your departure to the girls before stepping out of the room.

when you look at joel, you catch sight of something in his hands. a medium sized pizza box, the order written on the top. just a plain cheese. you feel a smile itching its way onto your face because he probably did it based off the basics but a cheese pizza was your favourite kind.

“i did this so you’d shut up for once in your damn life.”

“you love when i talk.” you grab the pizza box out of his hands. “thank you.”

his hands return to the back your neck, but this time you swear you feel his fingers gently stroke the skin but you don’t want to say anything, too scared he might strip you of your pizza privileges.

so you prevent the quip of your lips ready to perk up, swallowing down your happiness as you make your way to his car, and start to wonder if maybe you should annoy him more often if it meant you got free food.

yeah, maybe you should.

____

a/n: reader who does not give a fuck and says what she wants x joel who’s just trying to commit a life of crime but there’s a menace in his way (ft. javier peña seducing reader and reader flirting with him)

btw guys if u want to be added (or taken off) my taglist pls let me know!! and if ur name is in white it’s bc i couldn’t find ur blog :((

taglist:

@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind @you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog @eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmel @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

candy girl 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

You can hear Thor following you as you storm down the pavement. You cover your face as your horror overflows in choking sobs. You’ve never hurt like this before. The pain is so deep you could crumple to the ground then and there. 

He grabs softly at your hand as he tries to stop you, “little one.” 

“Please, let me go,” you beg as you tear away from him, nearly tripping, “oh god, I can’t believe--” 

“Shh, shhh, please, breathe,” he grasps your wrist firmly and stops you, “it’s late, I can’t let you go running off into the dark.” 

“I’ll find a bus,” you insist, “please, I--” you face him and heave, “how could he do this to me?” You babble and use your free hand to mop your cheeks, “how could I ever think he wanted me?” 

“Oh, dear,” he sweeps you into a hug before you can stop him. “It isn’t that. He is wrong. He is... I am ashamed to call him my son.” 

You want to resist. You know you should but his embrace is soothing. The sound of his heart beat as he pulls your head to his chest keeps yours from racing. You hug him back and sniffle. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, “but he is your son.” 

“And?” He rubs your back and rocks you, “it doesn’t mean I condone this behaviour. I’ve been soft on him too long.” 

His words drift into the cool night air as you cling to him. He’s warm against the chill. You shudder out a breath as the silence roils with tension. His hand stills and crawls up to the back of your head as he slowly parts. He looks down at you as he holds you at arm’s length. 

“You will stay. Just for the night so I know you are safe,” he says. 

“I can’t--” 

“Yes, you can,” he drags his touch down your neck and arm and takes your hand, “come.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you plead as he tugs you back towards his house. 

“Thor,” he corrects swiftly, “trust me, just this once.” 

You can’t argue. He’s already done so much. Your car, the tip, you feel as if you owe him. Even in this circumstance. 

He takes you up the front steps. Your reluctance weighs down your steps and he coaxes you forward. He hushes you again as he takes you through the front door and stops you just short of the staircase. 

“You will go to my room, right at the end of the hall,” he points as he turns to you, “lock the door for now.” 

“Thor, what’s going on? What are you going to do?” You squeak. 

“What I should’ve done long ago.” 

“Are you...” 

“He is my son, I wouldn’t harm him, yet he has hurt you. He has made a habit of using people, not only you but myself, his brother, his mother... it cannot stand,” he declares, “please, go, I shouldn’t like him to see you, in case he does choose violence. We both know his temper.” 

Your mouth falls open and you look past him then to the stairs, “you don’t have to... for me.” 

“It is right. He is not a child anymore. It is a lesson overdue for many years. I cannot help but blame myself for your pain so let me try at least to atone,” he squeezes your shoulder then nods to the stairs, “please.” 

You lower your lashes and turn to climb the stairs. You stop at the top to peek back again. He looms. You continue on and find your way to his room. You shut the door but cannot move away from it. 

You flick on the light. His room is painted a deep shade of evergreen. The wooden floor is dark and smooth, with a rug beneath the large four-postered bed. A king-size with a thick frame built of square planks. There’s a desk by the window and a chair of the same heavy wood as the bed. A large wardrobe stands opposite with a houserobe hung from the slightly ajar door. 

You turn to the door and press yourself to it. You can hear his footsteps below. It happens all at once, muffled but decisive. Magni’s door swings open and hits the wall, Something falls over, probably that table you told him was too close. 

Then a girl’s yelp and deep timbres. An argument you can only make pieces out of. Their voices rise higher and get clearer as you hear them moving. The front door opens and snaps shut again. They’re still yelling. Oh god, what do you do? 

You can only listen as the tempest blows below. There’s movement too, some banging and slamming. Footsteps back and forth. It lasts forever. Your chest is about to split open. You hear Thor’s voice as clear as if he’s right beside you. 

“Get out,” he demands. 

The front door opens again and you hold your breath. There’s a strange cracking noise before feet stomp outside and across the porch. You scurry to the window to look out. Magni’s shadow stalks angrily through the dark, the outline of his knapsack crooked over his back. 

You retreat and pace around the room. Waiting. The house falls back into silence and you hear Thor climbing the stairs. He sighs and it drifts toward the door. You face it as he knocks from the other side.  

“Hi,” you utter dumbly. 

He slowly twists the knob and peeks around the door, “he’s gone.” 

You gasp as you see his face. There’s a split across the bridge of his nose. Your fear subsides in the wake of concern. 

“What happened?” You rush forward as he lets the door fall all the way open. 

He won’t look at you. 

“Ah, he was caught offguard is all,” Thor rubs the back of his neck. 

“He hit you?” You stop before him, looking up tremulously. 

“I’m glad it was me and no one else,” he intones. “If you weren’t here, I can’t say I’d have left him in one piece.” 

“Oh,” you whimper. 

“I don’t mean to scare you,” he shakes his head. 

“Your bleeding,” you say as his nose drips red. 

“Ah, I thought I’d stopped it,” he presses his knuckle to his nose. 

“Here, let me help, um,” you look around and rush over to the en suite bathroom. You dip inside as you hear his uncertain steps in the bedroom. You return to him, “er, can you sit? I can’t reach.” 

“Of course, little one,” he sits on the bed and drops his hand. You unravel toilet paper from the roll and fold it into a square. You raise it to dab his nose gently. 

“Does it hurt too much? Is this too rough?” You ask. 

“Not even close,” he assures. His blue eyes sparkle at you. The way he watches you makes you sweat. 

You stare at the split higher up his nose over the cartilage, “do you think it’s broken?” 

“He had it crooked but I put it back,” Thor chuckles. 

“Oh,” your frown. 

“I can take it,” he says, “I’m so disappointed...” he flicks his lashes down, “to think I could raise a heathen like that. Someone who would hurt you.” He winces and reaches to take the toilet paper from you, “I’ve got it.” 

You retract your hand as he presses the tissue to his nose. You clutch the roll and sway nervously.  

“Where’s he gone?” You ask. 

“It isn’t my problem,” he growls, “the idiot. How could he not see--” He stops and looks at you, agonized, “you don’t deserve that. What you said before, it isn’t true. You are easy to want, little one, but he is young and arrogant.” 

You bite into your lip at the unexpected compliment. You can’t help but think he only says so because it’s what he’s meant to say. Everyone’s nice to the broken hearted. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t care either,” you resign. You look him over and your chest pangs. “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?” 

“Oh, no, I should be asking you,” he stands. “First, let’s get you settled. Modi’s old room should do, I think.” 

[minnie-cai]

i saw your art x physical therapist and tashi x makeup artist post and i know you’ll understand what im about to say: being a trainer/ makeup artist/ something along those lines and hooking up w two of your clients. is it a little unethical?? maybe, but you’re a grown up, and you can do what you want! and you really like both of them and they bring very different things to the table. but at the donaldson x duncan home, both art and tashi are having affairs and trying to keep it a secret from the other person and failing pretty hard. little do they know, they’re hooking up w the same person: you. and maybe, just maybe, they’re falling for you a bit. thoughts? feelings?

holy fucking shit i was smiling and nodding while reading this. yeah. yeah, you GET IT💜 i’m so writing something full-length about this about this but until then, have some thoughts.

not proofread, just shitposting. also, not a hairdresser. i can’t even braid hair. if you are one and throughout my thoughts on this scenario i fuck up, please correct me.

I think with Tashi it would be pretty quick with the physical aspect and emotional connection would come into play later.

She starts connecting to you when she realizes you’ve done something small for her that she doesn’t pay you for. Don’t get her wrong, she knows Art loves her and he’d bend over backwards for her approval and validation but he is too caught up in how miserable their routine is to keep noticing details about her. Art is her husband who had been pining over her for years but you know her coffee order and it’s on your table by your next appointment, casually waiting for her to take it, not making a big deal out of it. She tilts her head a bit and furrows her eyebrows, thinking of whether or not she’d asked her assistant for coffee but soon enough you emerge from your break with a small smile, untangling the cable of your flat iron.

“Morning, Mrs Duncan!” You beam and she gives you a small nod, clearly caught up in sizing the plastic cup because she feels like she’s gone insane. “I hope it’s not wrong.” You chime in on her thoughts, as if reading her mind. “You ordered this?” She asks pointing to the drink and raises her eyebrows when you nod, an almost repressed but impressed expression on her face. “Well, thanks.” She mumbles taking a sip and her spot on the chair, sitting in the same place she did every time.

She wouldn’t admit it but she feels a bit bad when people take her stand-offish attitude personally. She doesn’t like it when they change their personality to be quieter or less sociable around her just because she wasn’t very talkative or was particularly professional, she felt like they had no backbone, that they were fragile to be affected by whether she approves of their behaviour or not. She enjoys the fact that you don’t. You’re still sweet as sugar and by that point you’ve just figured her out. In contrast to Art, she likes to spend her appointments quiet as you pamper her and hum. It gives her time to think peacefully, even with your humming.

On the other hand, Art sees you as a break from life.

When he comes in and he sits in that chair in front of you and starts talking about something random like the music you have on, his brain is empty. It’s like for the first time in so long he doesn’t have to think about anything else. The next time he’s doing his warm up before training, he’s listening to the songs you recommended to him instead of the brown noise his trainer has said he should listen to in order to focus and it feels good to add a little something of you in his day, it feels like color in his sad, beige gym and boring green juice.

[localwolfgoesawooo]

one thing that really fucking boils my blood is when people excuse shitty behaviour with "well, they are just unhappy and takes it out on everyone else" or "they just hate themselves so they hate on everyone else" so what? SO FUCKING WHAT??

i’ve not spent a single day of my life not hating myself. i’m constantly thinking about all they ways i am wrong and stupid and ugly and not good enough, and i have been through so much shit in my life and been so insanely unhappy and angry at the world. but not once have i been lurking in random trans people’s comment sections on tiktok to "correct" anyone using their preferred pronouns. not once have i called someone disgusting or told them they should off themselves simply bc they have a different sexual orientation than myself. not once have i seen a person making silly videos, not bothering anyone, and decided to ruin their day by telling them how ugly they are, just because i’m a jealous, miserable person.

i’m so fed up with making excuses for horrible behaviour. if i can act like a decent person and refrain from making my sorry existense everyone elses problem, then why the fuck can’t you?

it’s the same in this fandom - the people who comment negativley on ships and fics. if me and 90% of us are able to look away when someone is harmlessly discussing a ship we don’t like or a headcanon we don’t agree with, why aren’t you? why are you in every comment section on tiktok complaining and shouting, instead of just scrolling past? and yeah, you know what i will judge your character based on your behaviour in fandom.

this rant makes no sense i’m sorry, i’m just so tired of people excusing their bad behaviour.

just don’t be a dick. if it’s that hard to not be a dick then there is something truly the matter with you and you should seek help. i hope you get better and learn that the world doesn’t revolve around you and your opinions. if you commenting on something or someone does not contribute to anything productive or positive, and is just sharing your negative and hurtful opinion for the sake of it, when nobody fucking cares - then kindly shut the fuck up. just because you’re entitled to an opinion because that is your right as a person, it does not mean you have a right to voice it. i don’t care if your life sucks, because guess what? so does mine and everyone elses. but we still manage to comment something nice, and if not that, then at least we manage to scroll and engage with things we actually do like.

if i am able to act with basic manners online, even though i live a sad life filled with self hatred, anxiety and depression - so should you.

[hazeystar]

5x9 live reaction

i was screaming and crying and that’s not a joke

also impressive the asteroid wasn’t brought up but now i’m just more scared for next week

praying for tarlos and firefam safety that’s all i want

-

yay judd in aa PLEASE

and owen is there yay

bring back grace we need her

oh sweet jesus judd you’re really going through it

-

nancy! marjan! tommy!

tommy i’m crying with you baby it’s alright

marj and tommy we don’t get enough of them

it’s marjan/natcha’s boyfriend i love this

tk shopping for beds i love him

i want chicken and waffles now

oh no not the afd calendar

and welcome back wyatt

we don’t have multiple swat teams?

judd you idiot don’t you do this

judd

judd i fucking swear

one time i say thank god for owen strand

fuck it flashed over

holy fuck judd how many bullets hit ya?

-

what’s wrong with judd’s hand? why has it been wrapped?

yea no man it’s mildly concerning how long you stayed standing there

yay marjan and joe

i love the purple and green it’s gorgeous together

im dying like joe here oh my god

joe i love the man that you are

MARRIAGE PROPOSAL OMG

bruh what do you mean marriage isn’t love what the fuck

nope nevermind im dying from the second hand embarrassment someone get me out of the restaurant HELP

please move on

please someone have another plot line

please 

oh dear god send help it’s a roller coaster i’m on

let’s go back to anyone else

thank you judd and your meetings for saving me from dinner

oh no judd are you lying? 

judd…. that’s not trying to get sober please

i actually don’t know which plotline right now is worse

because this hurts

charlie is with the grandparents?? oh no

judd let’s move you in with owen

omg i fucking called it

-

god joe is really trying and marjan babes your parents 

wow ‘are you a firefox or a mouse’

they’re right, where does your happiness rank in this

yay paul in charge

god true sibling behaviour

tk you danger magnet of course you know how casts work

steph goddammit you were so close

HA nancy with the connection you go girl

yea judd part of you definitely resents grace

wait that was actually heartbreaking 

i mean yes that seemed like a sign but try, try again please judd

-

welcome back wyatt

oh shit is that the reverend

tbh back to the call we could have explained that better

ems are you here in time?  

thank fuck he’s awake

round 2? please

save me now

yay be brave marjan you got this

YAY

yes marjan tell them! fight for your future!

YESSSS

OMG WEDDING

THIS IS WHY TK IS IN A SUIT IN THE PROMO

WEDDING TIME BEFORE THE END OF THE WORKD

-

firehouse wedding

YAY TARLOS

yes carlos the arch is thin in the left your so correct

shut up this is gorgeous

pause the tarlos colour palette i love it

marjan you look stunning

OH RAFA WITH THE STUBBLE IM IN LOVE

YAY JOR AND MARJAN

bro who allowed firecrackers in the fire house

paul and mateo took their jobs very seriously

tommy baby are you okay

yay joe and marjan

i’m always thinking about grace me too buddy

rafa in that yellow shirt im in love, tk with the off white 

that cake looks amazing

-

owen you really should have just moved him into your house

GRACE MY BELOVED COME BACK PLS

joe and marjan holy shit you guys are gorgeous

how lucky you gotta be to actually play the role with your partner

THE HAIR THE HAIR HOLY SHIT GUYS

i’m joe frfr right now

judd buddy, go to bed

judd what the hell man

be better

dump it in the sink

do it

omg the phone

is it gracie

GRACE MY LOVE

GRACE

grace was the real mvp of this episode and she wasn’t even here

[xaharadesert]

Over-Apologizing MC - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Julian, Portia, Asra) x MC

A/N: here’s #7, the winner of the poll! The person who sent in the request was anonymous, so I feel slightly less bad about writing it 6 months after it was submitted hehe :) (side note: I’m Canadian, so my definition of over-apologizing may be vastly different than yours) please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes! (End note: y’all need to be grateful that I have learned self-control, because every time I write for Asra the opportunity and temptation for angst is incredibly powerful)

❤️Julian❤️

He’s a somewhat clumsy man himself, so he can relate to constantly apologizing

He always quickly dispels any guilt he senses you’re feeling, often saying not to worry, or that it’s no issue when you apologize

To be honest, at first he doesn’t even realize that you say you’re sorry even when you’re not in the wrong

If he hears you apologizing when you’re in a different room, he assumes you’ve knocked something over and he just didn’t hear— he’ll shout a quick “no worries, my love, you’re fine” and then go back to whatever he was doing before

He only catches on when someone bumps into you in the market while you were standing still, and you decided to apologize while stranger glared at you

Now that just wouldn’t stand

He was quick to correct the situation— much to the chagrin of the stranger— since he assumed you had apologized on reflex

But when you began insisting it was your fault, even though it clearly wasn’t, he made a note to himself to keep an eye on what he was beginning to think was perhaps a bad habit

And lo-and-behold, this was definitely a pattern of behaviour that he immediately knew he would have to help correct

There is a difference between being polite and being a doormat, as he would gently try to inform you

Fortunately for you, if you ever backpedaled and started apologizing more than you should again, Julian would be more than happy to step in and correct the situation

Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a self-deprecating hypocrite who also apologizes much more than he should

So standing up for each other becomes the new habit— even if you both apologize far too often for yourselves, you both keep an eye out for when your partner is doing the same

And slowly, you work your way out of it

🧡Portia🧡

Unfortunately for you, Portia is the kind of woman to get sick of constant apologizing pretty quickly

She lived through it for years with Julian, and she’s not willing to go through it again

She notices the pattern within a few weeks of living together; at first she thought you were just nervous about the next step in your relationship, but she quickly realized that there was an underlying problem

Not wanting to be insensitive, she tries correcting it from a couple different angles

Her first guess is anxiety, so she tries to reassure you that you’re fine, even in small situations where there would be no indication otherwise

The next is a lack of confidence, so she starts standing up for you whenever she thinks you need backup

This one can come in a few different forms:

There’s the classic “THAT’S MY SPOUSE!” punch in the face whenever someone disrespects you

But there’s also moments where she starts threatening the vegetables that rolled off the cutting board when you were cooking

At least she’s consistent

When she can’t figure out some deeper meaning behind your apologizing, Portia ends up sticking with the same tactic that worked with Julian

“Stop.” “No.” “Literally don’t.”

As time goes by, those three phrases become more exasperated, but also more effective

She adds to this method by giving you a kiss every time you catch yourself and don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault

Portia has never read about Pavlov, but she’s still a dedicated student to his methods

💙Asra💙

He’s lived with your habits the longest, and doesn’t really think he can change them at this point

It’s not like they bother him though; the apologies don’t hurt anyone, and as long as there aren’t any underlying issues of anxiety or a lack of confidence, he sees no reason not to let you continue

And although he would never admit it out loud, it provides him the opportunity to ask “for what?”, which he thinks is hilarious even if you don’t

The funniest part, in his opinion, is that you usually don’t have an answer

If there were cameras in Vesuvia, he would take a picture every time you started staring off into space, looking for an answer that doesn’t exist

He’s not mean though; he would never do this in any kind of situation where someone else was in the wrong

If that were the case, he would step in immediately

He can’t stand to see you take the blame for something you didn’t do

Most people are kind enough to admit their own fault, and they’ll apologize to you in turn

But occasionally someone will be a complete dick, and in that case Asra takes the opportunity to verbally destroy them

It usually only takes one oddly specific insult for them to change their mind and apologize

And if you dare to then apologize to Asra for the hassle of defending you?

That’s probably the only situation where he will actually tell you to stop

Defending you and taking care of you will never be a burden to him; it will always be a gift to stay by your side

[the-fandom-abyss]

Old Ghosts

Sam Carpenter x Reader

Genre: Angst ❀

Word Count: 1,346 words

Warning: mentions canon character death

Tara blissfully walked through the apartment, unaware of the looming dark clouds that hung over Sam’s head. They were conveniently the same clouds that effect your mood. Tara attempted to exchange a simple “good morning” and in return she received, a snappy and snarky remark from her sister. She shrugged her shoulders at the behaviour, seeking you out instead.

“What’s got her in such a foul mood?” Tara questioned, looking in the kitchen for a viable snack.

“Don’t know” at the blunt response, she turned around, observing your features. You looked just as defeated as her sister, that’s when she started connecting the dots.

“What’s going on between you two?” A simple question for an outsider, a heavy question for those that knew the weight it carried.

“Just drop it”

“Did you fight?”

“Tara” just the tone of your voice made her hairs all stand on end. She could see how your eyes pleaded with unshed tears. All the pieces seemed to fall into place right in that moment. She moved closer to you, finding a seat to your left. She hoped she didn’t know the answer to her next question.

“Did you break up?” She saw the muscles in your body tense, a slight flinch at the concept. It was clear to her that her concerns were correct, that the power couple had split. Leaving her to ponder what the hell went wrong in the first place. She didn’t wait for a response, already receiving the answer that she needed. “You were so perfect together, what happened?” You let out a sigh, knowing Tara enough that she wouldn’t let this go. She was like a dog with a bone, not willing to bury it until it was all chewed up.

“After all the crazy shit that happened in Woodsboro, Amber and Richie still haunt her. She can’t look at me without thinking of Amber, it’s all she sees”

“That’s ridiculous, you are nothing like your sister. Sam should know that better than anyone”

“You would think”

“That is so stupid! Let me talk to her” Tara shifts in her seat, ready to take off after her sister. She obviously isn’t thinking straight, if she was willing to let go of the best thing she’s had in years.

“I know when you say ‘talk’” the use of air quotes was needed for the word talk, as the sisters don’t know the meaning of the word. “You actually mean argue”

“Yeah, you’re right” she moved off the chair, starting her journey. She was going to knock some sense into Sam because Tara was not going to sit idly by.

“Wait” your voice cut through her forward planning. You reached out to gently touch the younger girls arm. “She’s not coping, the last thing she needs is a reminder of what happened”

“Yeah bu-“ she was cut off by a squeeze to her arm, a signal to let it go. Something that Tara had a hard time doing.

"I'm going to leave” Tara’s eyes grew wide at your statement. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her sister had successfully ran you out of town. “We both need it" she visibly scoffed at you, not agreeing with your choice at all.

"You know that's a lie"

"You're right but that’s what she needs”

“She doesn’t know what she needs”

“I’ll be at a hotel down the street, I left the address, just in case. You have my number, call it if you need anything” you handed her a note with all the details on it. You were leaving to settle Sam’s nerves, that didn’t mean you still weren’t going to be there for them.

“You’re leaving now?” She only just discovered there was a problem, now she’s losing you minutes later. Her head was spinning from the strength of her emotions.

“It’s like a Band-Aid, you need to rip it off and move on”

“I’ll miss you” it was her turn to have tears in her eyes. She rushed towards you, enveloping you in a hug. Her arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you for good measure.

“I’ll miss you too. Take good care of her for me”

“I will” you placed a kiss to the top of Tara’s head, reciprocating the tight squeeze she had on you. You could tell the younger girl was crying, by the wet patch that was growing on your shirt. You didn’t mind, it pained you just as much to leave them. It took all your willpower to remove your arms from around Tara. Even more to grab your bags and leave the apartment. The door clicked closed, signifying your departure. Tears stained Tara face as she marched down the hallway to Sam’s room. She roughly opened the door without any thought for Sam on the other side.

“You are such an idiot. How could you let them walk out?”

“Tara” she gave the same warning tone as you did earlier. It didn’t stop her before, so there is no way it will be stopping her now.

“No! Y/N was one of the best things to happen to us. They saved our lives and this is how you repay them? By telling them they remind you of the very person they killed”

“They’re too much like Amber” Sam had to admit, there was an eery likeliness between the siblings. There were times that you would say a certain word or phrase that would send her back to that night. She felt guilty every time she saw a glimpse of Amber. Sometimes she wondered if you could see it to, if you were haunted by the same old ghost she was.

“They are nothing like Amber! If that was the case, you wouldn’t have dated them in the first place. It was just a lame ass excuse so you could feel better about yourself”

“That’s not true”

“It is and you know it. You were just scared of getting your heart broken, so instead you push away the people that truly care for you” Tara waited for her sister to reply, she wanted to continue yelling. She wanted more fuel for the fire in which her anger burned. But all she received was a glassy stare, filled with heavy emotions she couldn’t quite pin point. “Amber was a low blow, couldn’t find anything better?”

“It’s the truth” Sam mumbled, knowing that she would not win against her sister. She was relentless and would find a way to have the final say whether Sam spoke or not.

“Well look where the truth got you. They left, they moved out, they are gone Sam”

“Wait” she wasn’t aware that you had left. She only broke up with you a day ago and it’s been a constant battle since. Argument followed by arguments, angry whispers in hallways while Tara was asleep. She wasn’t prepared for you to move so fast, she wasn’t prepared for a world without you.

“They thought that this would be for the best. After everything you’ve put them through, you were their top priority. I hope you’re happy” Tara slammed the door behind her, causing the old New York walls to rattle. She left Sam alone with her thoughts, in a newly empty room. She was right back to where she was before coming back to Woodsboro, alone and unsure of her choices.

That night, Sam curled up on her side of the bed, staring at the side you used to occupy. She wore a shirt that you left behind, finding comfort in its aroma. She cried and cried until there were no more tears to give. She spent the night, wondering if she had made the right choice. If she would be better off without you. Her mind screamed at her for being foolish, for letting a genuinely good person walk out of her life. While her heart soothed her nerves, reassuring her that this was the right decision. After all, it always ends with her heart being broken, so why would she wait for you to break hers?

[soraviie]

you don't trust androids.txt

━ type: BTS (hyung line) x f! reader

━ about: android! au, heavy angst, slight fluff, nothing majorly fun 

━ pictures taken from Pinterest  ━ navigation

━ c/w: implied smut, mentions of suicide attempt, mention of near-death experience, mention of losing a limb, a portrayal of poor mental health, undercurrent of dystopian themes, mention of losing bodily autonomy, mention of hating one’s body, mention of depression and anxiety, discrimination against androids

━ wanted to keep this one in the drafts but here it is T-T

NAMJOON: “There’s a ç in Jean Lurçat,” he points out helpfully. His programming suggests it is friendly but the way your teeth grind suggests otherwise. Perhaps…cavities? Humans were prone to them and Namjoon was no medical unit to know any better, he was after all an informational unit. But you don’t seem to be appreciative of that either. 

“Have I done something wrong?” he asks. 

“Contrary what your chip states, being an obnoxious know-it-all is not helpful!” you snap, red rimmed eyes meeting his. “I mean, who do you think you are?”

He blinks. You’ve met dozens of times already, surely you knew who he was. 

“My name is Namjoon,” he points at the tag on his chest. “I am an informational android unit. Here to help.”

“Well, you’re not! Not by nitpicking every single sentence I write!” you hissed and despite it not being expected, he experienced an operational error. If a sudden simulated pang of sadness could be called that. 

He rarely gets to talk to anyone in the museum and over the course of these weeks with you coming in and out of the building, he’d assumed, naively, that he’d made a friend for the first time in his life. Or existence rather, he corrects. Androids were not alive hence they could have no, well, life. 

“I apologize,” he bows curtly and leaves, shoulders slumped. You watch after him feeling like the grandest asshole in the world. 

“That’s because you are,” you chide yourself before slamming the multi-kilogram art book closed shut. 

A week passes and despite it not being a part of his programming, Namjoon is sulking. You’re nowhere to be seen. Maybe you avoided him due to it being awkward. Or maybe you just flat out hated him. The operational error occurs again - it makes his stomach feel like a gaping hole in spite of him knowing it was full of wires and memory cards. Perhaps he should be checked for bugs. 

“Excuse me,” a thin voice appears behind him and he finds you shifting from one foot to another, a gift in hand. 

“Hello!” he greets you pleasantly, face contorting in a dimpled smile before recalling last week and lets it deflate quite fast. 

“Are you in need of assistance?”

“No, I came here to say “thank you” and apologize. It was rude of me to insult you. I’m just…” you exhaled, shivering faintly to yourself with nerves. “I moved here only recently and I’m not used to androids. Not that it is any excuse for my behaviour. It was cruel, I apologize.”

“Accepted,” Namjoon graciously nods along, the weird bug in his stomach evaporating into thin air. He glances down at the anxiously clutched gift bag. 

“Is that from your family? Was your thesis accepted?”

You glimpse at it almost self-consciously. 

“It did. You caught onto all the mistakes so there were no objections from the superiors hence…thank you. You were not being an irritating know it all but…helpful,” you offer him a small smile and he encounters a different sort of bug, this one gnaws on his chest. “It’s for you.”

Astounded, he gently accepts the bag and peers inside. No one has ever given him anything. Inside there sits a folded shirt. The quality of the cloth is to his liking and on the tag he spots the name of the company specializing in android wear. It must have cost a small fortune. 

“I thought at first to give you a book but you probably already know everything and then I remembered you wear the same clothes every day but I didn’t know which colour-”

“It is perfect,” Namjoon interrupts, his wires suggesting that the limit of his smile has reached the maximum capacity. “Thank you, ________.”

You squirm but then frown. 

“Why is your face so red?”

“Uh…an operational error,” he lies. trying to appear sincere. “Will I be seeing you here?” 

“Would you like to?” demurely,  you question and he eagerly nods. 

“Very much.”

YOONGI: “So at which point you thought to inform me?!” you shrieked though it came out more like a hysteric squeak. But who wouldn’t be upset when their boyfriend, previously assumed as human, factory reset himself whilst being balls deep into your guts. 

“Baby, I can explain,” he begins, cautiously inching himself across the bed but you throw yourself against the headboard, clutching the sheets to your chest. Not that there was anything left to hide anymore.

“You better!” you yelled. “You knew from the very first meeting! I don’t trust androids!”

He licks his lips guiltily. He looks human. Acts like one too yet even so you can’t help but feel like an utter dimwit for being fooled like this.

“I know, I know,” he mutters guiltily, running long fingers through the orange hair. He said he dyed it. Bud did he? Did it matter? What else did he lie about?

“And I’m sorry for that! I meant to tell you. I did! But you wouldn’t have me if you knew early on and I liked you so much. I…love you so much.”

His gaze lands to sit dead onto your eyes, a feat for Yoongi indeed and despite expecting to see some blue lights, cogs and wires stretched beneath the artificial material there’s nothing but the familiar brown staring back.

“No fair,” you grumble. “Busting out the L-word.”

He chuckles fondly - a sound you adore even after this mindfuck.

“Can’t risk you running away from me.”

Gingerly, he touches your knee and you flinch.

“It may be a synthetic skin but it’s real,” he whispers moving to softly cup your cheek. “I’m the same Yoongi you’ve always known.”

Unwillingly, your body relaxes as he does his magic, fingers grazing through your hair in a monotone, calming motion. His ultra-effective weapon to having you be soft.

“But how can you…feel?” incredulous yet truthful, you ponder out loud. “You run on…programming…?”

“I’ve been a free android for twenty years,” he insists. “All my "programming” has rusted so much it’s running independent like a human brain would. No exterior orders.“

"So what was that?” you abruptly plank attempting to demonstrate his sudden seizure. “What was that all about?”

“Oh,” he laughs timidly, the gummy smile on show and ears flushing pink. You wonder if there’s wiring there as well but then simply let the matter rest. “I realized I love you, want to spend my life together with you and I…I freaked.”

“Good or a bad freakout?”

He leans in to peck your lips.

“Good,” he mutters in between kisses. “Very, very good.”

JIN: “Want to hear a joke about pizza?”

“No.”

“Good, it’s too cheesy.”

You could physically feel your eyes roll 360 degrees around your skull. The recovery and betterment android unit, J-I-N-100, levels you down with a thoroughly displeased scowl.

“Why aren’t you laughing?” he frowns. “I specifically requested it.”

“Fault in the program,” you slighted, moving to adjust the IV drip.

“Ah! A derogatory reference to my existence. How very original.”

His face and tone is neutral, for all intents and purposes he could have just recounted the level of precipitation outside. That’s what’s wrong with them, you think to yourself, how quickly they can go back to being robotic. And frankly, it’s not all androids you can’t stand to be around, it’s this specific unit that’s been making your life a miserable hell, even further than it was.

Losing a limb, a leg, in this case, was hard. It still continues to be hard. The bitterness that seeps from the court decision - the overruling of a criminal penalty for the drunk driver who’d mowed you over was a bottomless well. On top of that, churning away at a hospital, trying to regain the simple ability to walk using a prosthetic leg made you claw at the walls frequently enough and then this thing came.

The jokes you could tolerate, barely but still, but you couldn’t, couldn’t handle to watch him get his palm crushed one day and then without a care in the world church it away, grab a new one like a brochure at a religious congregation, given away like candy, and stuck it onto himself. No recovery period, no shock, no trauma. Brush it off, move on. How could you not hate him when he joked to you all day long as you fell out of bed or fell walking due to the simple fact that you were human.

Pain was the basis of all life and he felt none. To be in the presence of something that was not alive yet acted as though it was…unnerving. Deeply unnerving yet humanity had already moved past being the only humanoids, moved past the notion of disgust for artificial intelligence, leaving you to choke alone on the bouts of spontaneous rage.

All you heard whenever he opened his mouth was “tiny, pathetic human, wriggling around like a worm”.

“You bent your leg the wrong way,” he points out and your head twitches upwards, removing the crayon-coloured painting of yours from your vision. It’s now brimming with his face, one he said is of course mechanically engineered as it was perfect. He was perfect. A thing he often remarked on.

“What?”

“Your leg,” he repeats slowly as though talking to a child. “It’s made of a similar structure as my legs, if you bend the knee in that position, it’ll wear out the joint wiring.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. This leg…this leg doesn’t belong to you. It’s like him. An alien object lodged onto you. A parasite.

“Here, lemme fix that,” he reaches and on the brink of hurling, you kick yourself away, falling onto the floor. Android unit J-I-N appears almost startled.

“Don’t touch me! Do not touch me! Get out!”

“I can’t!” he objects weakly. “I’m your personal betterment unit if you reject me, I’ll be -”

“I DON’T CARE! GET OUT!”

For an android, purposefully wired being not meant to experience fear, he looks terrified. And that expression haunts you.

Waking up in the midst of a deep night is nothing new. Doctors said the traumatic event of nearly dying and then losing a limb will give you hours upon hours of unslept nights. Walking was still difficult, especially in the dark of the hospital where everything was quiet and creepy. Usually, J-I-N-100 would help you, asked or not, guide you to the bathroom, or fetch you a glass of water but after kicking him out he hadn’t shown for the entirety of the day.

You wander the halls blindly and then the knee jerks on its own and you find yourself on the floor.

“Fucking shit.”

Trying to push yourself off the linoleum, you faintly hear a peculiar noise. A strangled noise of crying. At first, you dismiss it. It was a hospital people cried day and night, every hour of the week but the sound is so terrified, so broken you couldn’t bear to continue the asshole routine.

Following it, you stumble upon the escape stairs, grey and empty and in the middle of them sits unit J-I-N-100. Crying. An android crying. A sight you never assumed was possible.

“Uh…are you okay?” you dumbly ask.

He hides his face away, shoulders shaking before a venomous hiss flies your way.

“Why do you care? I’m a machine.”

You stand awkwardly.

“If this is about what I said, just ask for them to transfer you to a different patient-”

He abruptly laughs loudly and dryly, a laugh of no amusement.

“You don’t understand do you, human? There are no transfers for androids. If we don’t satisfy our patient, there are no do-overs! I’ll be sent to the HQ and be,” his voice drops into a hush. “Be disassembled.”

For an android that was death. You didn’t like him but for him to die due to your displeasure was tyrannical.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp. “I-I didn’t know.”

“You don’t know anything,” he accuses heatedly and you couldn’t blame him.

“No, I don’t.”

There’s a beat of stilted silence.

“You hate that leg of yours because it’s like me. It’s strange. An alien organism. You hate for having these parts but they are not mine. Every part of me belongs to someone else. My eyes, my ears, my legs have been replaced thousand times over. This body is not my own and yet I’m forced to reside in it. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Abruptly, all his magnanimous tirades about having the most perfect body make sense in another kind of way. He must have been trying to convince himself of liking it when the truth couldn’t be any further away. Your words now feel sickening and a surge of want, to protect, to shield this android, makes you almost dizzy.

But he doesn’t care for it. Not anymore.

“Please, leave,” he asks. The sound of his voice is broken, worn to its absolute limit. “If I’m around you it is my programming to smile and I don’t want to smile anymore.”

You oblige and close the door to the staircase quietly behind yourself.

To be home again was to experience bliss. Your small, overcluttered apartment had never appeared like the gate of heaven itself. The smell, even the crowded look into the smog-ridden city below is pure ecstasy. Putting the crotches down you sink into the sofa, nearly crying at the comfort of unity. But then that grading, awful sound interrupts your ecstasy. A fucking neighbour. Grabbing the crutch, you’re already prepared to beat these annoying motherfucking neighbours into the next planet only to find J-I-N standing on the other side.

His expression is murderous.

“Why did you do that?”

Timidly, you shift in the doorway.

“I was trying to help.”

“You lied!” he cries out. “You chased down the board members of the android unit assignment, harassed them for hours and then lied to their faces that I’m the most adequate, most perfect unit in the facility!”

“Did it work?”

He calms down, hands coming to stand still by his thighs.

“It did. No unit has ever reached such a score.”

You nod.

“But you hated me…” he breathes, even without any visible cogs, you can see how the logic of your action is not computing in his brain. “You literally hated me all this time.”

“I don’t wish you death. I would never want that!” frustrated you trying to run a hand through your hair only to remember it is supposed to hold a crotch now. “It’s just my fragile human psyche. I’m sorry for it and I’m sorry you have to go through everything. It’s horrible.”

He seems to be beaten into a state of stupor only to shrug.

“It…It is what it is.”

“It shouldn’t have to be.”

For a while, there is only the muted sound of either of you trying to make some sort of conversation.

“Because of what you did, they’re reassigning me. Private health field, I’m a home care unit now.”

“That’s…great,” you weakly surmise. You don’t actually know if it’s great or not. There’s a lot you don’t know. Maybe it was high time to fix that.

“Wait does this mean you’ll be reassembled?!”

“No,” J-I-N shakes his head. “No, reassembling or disassembling. Home care units change very little. Just a little update and I’ll be sparkly new.”

“Perfected the perfection,” you try to joke and he chuckles weakly almost sounding surprised that someone might amuse him and not the other way around.

“Do you…” he shakes with nerves and you grow ever more astounded. He was so alive. A very peculiar android, one who couldn’t give it credit for his programming. Whatever happened that made J-I-N, he was different. Perhaps he made himself different.

“Do you need a home care android? Your recovery period is almost a year.”

“They sent me a catalogue but I haven’t gone through it yet,” you throw your head at the inside of your apartment.

“May…I apply for the job?”

You blink at his demureness.

“But I’m awful.”

“You were,” he agrees. “But you’ve got an update and besides I’m in need of employment.”

“I…” you think it over. In spite of not getting along, you still had grown at least accustomed to him. And J-I-N was far more gracious than you would have been in his situation.

“I’m okay with that. Are you?”

“Yeah,” he squeezes a small smile. “You’re not the worst human on the planet anymore.”

“Thanks,” you snort.

“Also fair warning, this update will contain nearly 68GB of various puns and jokes for the sake of breaking the ice with the patient.”

You feel a part of yourself shrivel and die with that information, still, you force out a polite -

“Looking forward to it.”

HOSEOK: “But…but what am I supposed to do with him?!” as quietly as possible, you hiss into the phone where a woman sighs at your incessant questions.

“He is a mental health android unit, treat him like an app or something.”

“He’s not an app!” you argue with some heat. “He is an android! A being! One you sent to my home without my consent.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have tried to slit your wrists open at a workplace,” she snides and drops the phone, leaving you open-mouthed at the sheer audacity before slamming the phone down into the kitchen counter.

“Your levels of adrenaline and anger are out of the norm. Should I help you to relax?” the android’s voice pops up unexpected right beside you and you scream.

The last thing you wanted after being discharged from a mental institute is to be observed. Like a zoo animal. What will it do if one does this? What will it do if one pokes it in this spot?

“No, please, it is not necessary,” you trail off, fear gripping you whole. This thing will live you. For three months, there will be a stranger, designed to hover over you like a Damocles sword. You couldn’t even feel safe in your own home when it was anxiety in the first place that wore you down so much you wanted to escape it in any way you could.

The mental health unit leans its head to the side. He looks very human, it must be the absolute prime model and somehow it’s even more disturbing. It’s a humanoid that was not human and that knowledge activates some primal terror gifted by your ancestors. You’re choking on your tongue.

“I’ll just use the bathroom,” you force out and make a run for it.

It takes hours for you to exit, shaking on the tile floor was time-consuming and finding the android unit freely moving through your space doesn’t put you at any ease.

“What are you doing?” you rasp.

He turns around, beaming wide and you shudder.

“Making dinner,” he replies cheerfully. “Your file suggested it will be one of my duties.”

In his hands, there sits a cup. It’s your favourite cup. It wasn’t passed from generations, it wasn’t a gift and it wasn’t really that expensive. It had a chip in the side and you bought it essentially from a flea market but it still is your favourite cup. One he has usurped like your peace in your own home.

“Please, don’t..don’t touch my stuff.”

The smile falls from his face and noticing your intent, scared gaze at the cup he places it down.

“But I…I have to make you dinner.”

“You don’t. I’ll do it on my own.”

He blinks, struggling to understand. It goes against his programming, while the emotional core of his does state he should instantaneously assume greater distance. He was creating unease, something he was not engineered to do and the two clashing commands were rapidly wearing down his operational core.

“I can…run you a bath. Baths are beneficiary for human beings.”

The thought of undressing in front of him, of being that vulnerable, nearly makes you gag.

“No, please, just do nothing.”

“If I do nothing, my dispatchers will think you don’t want me.”

“I don’t want you. I’m scared of you.”

His mouth despite it being an impossibility runs dry.

“You’re scared of me?” he echoes weakly.

“You’re a stranger invited into my house without my consent. Of course, I’m scared of you!”

“Right,” he buffers. “I-I…I’ll log myself off in the hallway. Will that make you feel better?”

It’s probably cruel, nevertheless, you nod. You couldn’t be around anyone and despite the opinion of general denizens, androids did count as someone.

Shoulders slumped, he dragged himself away before plopping to sit by the door and proceeding not to move. It was creepy.

At night, you hear him moving around and shivering underneath the blanket from the rampaging onslaught of paranoia, you could not relax for a single second.

Weeks pass and the mental health unit keeps an intrepid vigil to keep out of your way. You don’t even know where he is at times as he occupies no room and makes no noise but at times you almost forget he is there. He still performs some menial tasks when you’re away either being tested or taking a prescribed walk and exercise class. Your floors are too clean and when you fail to make food for yourself it magically appears, though you note that they’re not served in your dishes and neither your pots nor pans were ever used again.

Coming home late one night, you step over the threshold and find it empty and dark, abandoned almost but on the counter there sits a cupcake with a simple note attached.

“I’m very proud of you, ______________.”

Heat rushes to your eyes and your throat tightens. You can’t even recall when was the last time anyone said they’re proud of you.

“Umm…mental health android?” you call out. He didn’t even have a name you realize. He wore no badge and there was nothing in his introductory form. “Mental health android?”

No response. Perhaps, he left. You gave him no order, maybe it somehow messed with his programming so bad he left. You rifle through the apartment high and low, in the end, finding him crouched in the broom closet. It’s an awfully minuscule space, not suitable for anyone, be it an android, human or a cat but it is the only space in the entirety of your home, you did not look into. Just how long had he slept here for your convenience.

You lean down and shake him but he does not wake.

“Sir? Sir?” you shake him harder but you might as well be handling a ragdoll. “Sir? Please, wake up.”

At that, his eyes pop open and you screech from the abruptness of the motion, falling on your backside. He rushes to help you up but pulls his hand away at the last second, conflictedly squirming in the place.

“Are you okay? Are you in distress?” he questions nervously and you gather yourself off the floor.

“No, I’m just…” you sigh. “You shouldn’t sleep in the broom closet. It’s too small.”

“It was the only hiding place. I would not scare you there. You would not see me.”

Something in the innocent explanation, so purely kind-hearted, mellows your own.

“Please, use the living room.”

He nods stiffly.

“Also uhm…” unwillingly, tears pool in your eyes. “Thank you for the cupcake. Did you…make it?”

He shakes his head sadly and solemnly.

“You did not give me permission to use your things, so I bought it.”

“With what money?” as far as you knew androids couldn’t pride themselves on the biggest income.

“I work odd jobs at times,” he shyly confesses. “If I earn enough money, I can apply for citizenship and become a self-sustained android.”

“You used that money to…” you choke. “To buy me a cupcake.”

“To buy you all food and the flowers by your bedside table.”

He shrugs it off with such ease like it’s not by far one of the kindest things you’ve seen a humanoid do.

“Oh, no, don’t cry!”

Too late you’re absolute sobbing your heart out. About everything. When you were little you thought it will be such a dream. It wasn’t. It wasn’t a dream at all.

He once again reaches to hug you, probably due to his programming but holds himself back, to be respectful, however, you hug him first, not caring anymore that his skin is synthetic and his brain is made of chops. You just need someone to connect with. Any connection, any at all would be bliss and this android has shown you unbridled kindness no humans in your life would.

When you’ve cried out half the hurt, not all but a decent chunk, a steaming cup of chamomile tea, served in your favourite mug sits in front of you as the rain taps against the window. It’s easier to breathe. The android sits unsure at the edge of the sofa, uncertain what his next action should be.

“Do you have a name?” you ask, twiddling with the edge of the blanket.

“I’m a mental health care android unit 9876Q36x/3.”

“Right. Have you considered choosing a name?”

If he wanted to be a self-governed android, the idea of freedom must be constant in his mind.

“I did,” he slowly says as though it’s a secret. “Hoseok.”

“It’s a lovely name.”

He offers a gentle smile and you feel for once a bit better.

“Thank you, _______________. I like your name as well.”

 © soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[philonous]

1, 4, 5, 12, 19 Forrrr Ivan :] ⛪️

1. Do you have a favourite mirror world/id of yours? Or least favourite?

I do not care to think about the supposed versions of ‘myself’ that exist in other worlds. The phoney reproductions that masquerade as I in these mirror worlds do not concern me in the slightest.

4. Would you say you’re particularly close to anyone in your branch? Is there anyone you’d like to get closer to?

You are strangely curious (and quite audacious in your assumption that you would receive a response) about some very insignificant matters. I quite fail to grasp why this should be of any concern to the likes of you?

5. On the contrary, anyone you particularly dont get along with? Anyone you can’t really stand?

My personal relationships have no reason to be discussed here- or with you, whoever you may be, for what it is worth.

12. What would you consider to be your own ‘weaknesses’?

I am not so much a fool to casually hand out such vulnerable information about myself. Your shamelessness with these pointless questions is beginning to get on my nerves.

19. I give you the classic trolley problem. What’s your answer?

Ah, so it is this question now. A more respectable one, at least. (the answer is. Long. so im putting it under the cut)

To discuss it, it is important to consider the background of the dilemma before anything else- It was proposed by Philippa Foot as a thought experiment trying to explore the idea that it seems permissible to our moral intuitions that we can sacrifice one man to save five when the one is tied up on the tracks. Ultimately, I do not believe that there is a correct answer to the trolley problem, as it was created specifically to inspire deep thought and analysis, and the concept of ‘righteousness’ is something that is hardly rigidly defined across the world or even within the limits of a single culture.

To approach this question we must first define what it means to be moral. Morality is the human attempt to define what is ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ in thought and behaviour, but you will find that in many instances, no two men can agree on one definition for this concept. It is said that man is a moral creature, but morality is in itself a subjective matter. It greatly varies and depends on one’s geographic location. Religion and culture within a certain geographic location determine the set of moral values that people incidentally subconsciously live by. It makes sense, then, that there are so many different answers to this seemingly (to many) simple trolley question. Most often religion is the thing that primarily shapes morality, so if there is no god to guide man, then everything is permitted, is it not? Thus the trolley problem is rendered meaningless, so one must answer this question while assuming that a god exists, and im afraid i am not the person suited for this. The trolley problem is often presented with a set of follow-up questions to further complicate the discussion. It is a valuable question to ask whether our answers do, or should, change if (for example) the five individuals on the tracks are convicted felons and so on. However, assuming that the question I'm being asked is simply about the ambiguous and lacking in detail trolley problem which simply asks whether one would or would not pull the lever, I will disregard any hypothetical additions to the problem to save us time and simultaneously, not wander ‘off track’ (haha). The problem is based on the person in question not having any knowledge about the people tied to the tracks. If we add a new element to the problem, it will of course be altered completely. If we know nothing about any of the people involved, each life is valued as unequivocally equal. To reach my personal answer after all, I do not believe I can confidently say that I know, in the moment, whether I would switch the lever and kill a single person or whether I would allow for the train to kill five others instead. Aside from moral intuition, our setting and emotional state will affect our action or inaction in every possible situation. The trolley problem is fundamentally based on the question of whether the lives of five people are worth more than the life of a single person. We are not God, we cannot make such a comparison and judgement, and thus we are not allowed to interfere with the situation one way or another(if we consider morality). There is no 'right' answer to this dilemma ( there is not meant to be one in the first place), only an acknowledgement that we cannot anticipate all the possible outcomes because we do not have all the information available. Ugh. Such a question is impossible to discuss in only a few words, there are a lot of other factors to consider, but I will have to finish here, for the sake of saving the time I do not possess the privilege of wasting at the moment.

[gvtted-ratz]

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Correct Ending

John Doe x M!It/Its!Reader

Last Edited: 27/03/23

TW: blood, horror, stalking

Requested: no

Word Count: 3,031

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: role-reversal AU. reader is the stalker/eldritch-horror being, john doe is a gas station worker stuck in a time loop (tho his looks/odd actions r still the same). it/its used 4 reader/mention of reader having a “human male form/human male face” as well as having “sir”. he/they pronouns used 4 john doe. treat this as having some spoilers (ending 7 basically)+remember of the canon creepiness/horror aspect from the game. if u can’t handle that, this prob aint 4 u so tread with caution/dont read. distorted/glicth text have numbers beside them as they will b put in at the end with each word 2 b read easier if desired/needed.

While people think the man is creepy, you couldn’t help but l̸̩̈́̿͆̔͌́ő̶̗̠͛͊͑̍̿v̵̨͎̈̄̀̚ĕ̵̖̦͔̘͇̑͊̿̌̑̄ [1] him. It didn’t matter that they didn’t shower or seem to understand that his clothes being thrown everywhere in his home wasn’t exactly the best for their mental health. The deteriorating mental health of your beloved truly did help you in a way though. It meant that he’d need someone around and what better person to help them than you? None of those other people in Uncanny Valley can help him like you could. They’re just tiny little humans, lacking anything significant about them. You, on the other hand, can protect your lovely little gas station worker by simply existing. Changing most of your form to anything he may desire is something you keep in mind, watching, together with, seeing what they may or may not like. Of course, some things you do rather wish to keep; a more human male figure seems more appropriate to you at times when you’re with the guy. It had taken a while but after watching how other men looked, you had been able to achieve the appropriate image.

Due to the time loop, it appears that John Doe forgets about you. Every. Single. Time. You’re doing what you can to ensure he chooses the right options. You’ve been trying for so ļ̴̢̹̫̪̙̀͛̈́̓͛o̸̬͔̍͛n̶̜̽͛̾̀̕g̵̨̖̎̇̄͐̈́̇[2]. So why can’t the person just r̵̬͇̓̋e̴̹͐m̵̨̢̈́͝e̶̻̭̔��m̸̧͚̽͊b̵̯̑̈́ē̴͔r̴̭̙̊[3]? That’s all they have to do. Remember you! It’s all you want! You want to be remembered, for all your trials and errors to be acknowledged! You distort reality for him! You’ve even given him gifts you thought he’d like; he’s accepted them every time but soon enough, those gifts get pushed aside, along with forgotten, when the new day arrives. But today there will be a change! There has to be! You’ve tried your best so you need to make this one count. It’s either the route he chooses leads to the right outcome for you both, or one that leads to one they will surely hate.

You see him on the bus, staring into space. For a human, he’s more uncanny than most. Maybe that’s what brought you to l̷̹͊͘ộ̸̊͐v̴̛̬͈͆̂̈́i̷͎̪̝̾̔̂ṉ̴̱̪̑g̸͙͛̄͌ [4] them. Then again, not seeing anything odd or weird in a place called Uncanny Valley would be wrong. He truly does fit in with the town in a way; the behaviour that is. Their looks give them more of a wild, unhygienic appearance more than anything. So many other humans stay away from the guy because of it, leading to a wide berth on the bus. It works in your favour after all; you possibly can’t go a day without watching the darling thing. To catch your interest out of all the others is an achievement in itself. Oh, they truly should be proud of themself because of that.

Seemingly sensing your staring, the yellowed eyes look towards your glassy ones. Once met, your grin widens tenfold. It seems to nearly split your face in half, showing off way more teeth than a human can possibly have. They blink at you, the black shirt they have on changing its design to an eye with a question mark as the pupil. The lips that never seem to close fully lift just slightly, more in a confused smile than a happy one. You’ll take it though, feeling warmth clouding your brain at his simple grin. You lessen your beaming when he looks away, starting to zone out again by how unfocused their eyes start to look. The warmth starts to edge away now that their attention is no longer on you. You can feel your lips fall into a straight line, feeling empty with that small amount of attention lost.

The bus stops, opening its doors to let off the passengers. John is one of the first to get off, letting you follow him from a distance, having taken the back of the line to do so. They’re heading to the gas station, working another day behind the counter. The long, messy hair of his is easy to spot in the small crowd; not to mention that they, along with a few others, are heading to place. Not many stop by thanks to the reality-shifting you do to try and keep John more or less alone. It makes time drag by slower, plus, you can watch him for longer.

You lurk about, staying hidden among the aisles to let John get comfortable in the beginning of their shift. You don’t want to appear suddenly like you have so many other times. It always seems to lead to the B̵̟͚̝̫̣̹̯̈̿̑͐ ̸̠̟̬͙̍͊́̇͆͜͠͝Ȁ̵̡̰͙͍̱̹̯͆̿ ̸̓̀̋̒̇͜D̷��̖̥̤̣͈͕͂̒̓̽͌ ̷͉̼̦̒̈́ ̶͈̲̏͐ͅE̵̗̘̺̥̰̠̟͆̅͒̐̔̈́ ̵̙̞̭̪̙́͐͊̿͝N̷̩͋̕ͅ ̸̨͚̯̈́͑̌̀́̾̚D̸͍̩̫̈̈́̋͗̽̕ͅͅ ̷̮̩̋̋̈́͊͋̀Ĩ̸̥͈̙̦͊̅͘̚ ̷̳̱͕̻̜͚̋̊͐͝Ṇ̷̡͓̟̃̆̊̔ͅ ̷̭̬̇̆̈̈́͊G̴̤̒̐̍̈́ ̶̣̺̒̚Ș̸̲̺͇̋̈ [5]. Those were so tiring to deal with, having to revive your love over and over and over and over again. “It’ll be different this time. It’ll be better,” Your voice, though low, sounds disembodied with a static quality. You’ll win his affection this time or simply restart again until he accepts… So many endings have passed, moreover, restarting is getting tiring. You can feel your desperation taking over, leading to your hands shaking.

You grab the first thing you can get your quivering hands on, leading the object to your mouth. A tearing sound echoes in the store as your mouth widens, the skin going from your lips to your ear tearing open to reveal more teeth. The object is placed in your mouth, your jaws clamping down on it, completely as well as utterly crushing the item. You can hear glass shatter and crunch as you eat both the glass as well as pickled quail eggs. The taste combined with the texture of both floods your mouth as you try to get your mind in order. By the time you finish, there’s a puddle of juice on the floor, the jar, metal lid, and pickled eggs all having been eaten. Your hands have stopped shaking so you allow your face to go back to the human male face you’ve constructed, alongside altered, just for John.

With a clearer head, you look around the aisle. Your glassy eyes make eye contact with a horrified mother with her three kids. The children, all ranging from ages four to eight, stare at you with awe mixed with terror. The mother, on the other hand, looks like she’s about to pass out with how much panic seeps out of her. You give them a large, toothy grin, wiggling your fingers mockingly. She herds her kids away, shushing them when they try to protest. None of them will remember this by tomorrow.

Deciding your beloved has had enough time to settle into their shift, you start to approach the counter. No one is at the counter, letting you walk right up and stand before him. He’s staring off again, almost always does so when bored or understimulated. The skin at the edges of your eyes crinkle as you smile, this one not as wide as the one who had given them on the bus nor to the family in the aisle. With no answer, you reach into your pocket, pulling out your closed fist. “Hi.” Your voice, now sounding like it comes from you, carries a cheery but unhinged tone. The yellow eyes you’ve come to adore look at you, now more focused and full of attention.

“Hi,” They blink in surprise at your presence, clearly having missed it until you appeared. “How can I help you, sir?” Your closed fist hovers over the counter, your smile never wavering, as you release your gift.

“For you!” Teeth, some bloodied while others are nearly shiny clean, land on the counter with a clattering sound. John stares at them, his mouth forming a straight line despite never closing all the way. With no answer from him, together with their eyes going unfocused again, you try to smooth it over with more words you deem to be complimentary. “You smell good.” It jolts them back into reality for the moment. You can see his pupils start to expand, nearly swallowing all of the yellow. His shirt even has the eye change, the pupil on it now a heart. You know you haven’t won them over just yet but you have the seed planted in his mind now.

“Uhm… Ok…” His voice shakes, along with his hands as he drags them closer to himself. The black nails they have shine in the light, only adding to their appearance you’re fond of so much. He scoops them in his hand, putting them in the incorrectly-worn jacket’s pocket. You’re not sure if they’re genuinely happy about your gift, or absolutely horrified by the fact that they were just given teeth by a stranger, in their mind that is; you both know each other already if only he remembered you.

“What’s your name?” You lean towards him, hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly, they can see the strain in your knuckles. The smile he gives you is still small, pupils still enlarged. Quietly, as well as shakily, they point to their name tag.

“That’s definitely one of the names I’ve heard. I’m _̵͙̋̈́-̴̻͖͍̆̆-̵̧̨͆_̸̦̞̊̆-̵̢͗͝_̵̰̇̕-̷̩̭̈́͋_̴͙̺͇̦̅̃  [6] but you can call me [Redacted]!” Your hands are clutched together near your chest as you tell them this, flashing distorted and gorey images in their mind. The smile on his face seems a little more strained now, a spiral appearing on his shirt. Maybe giving them your name confused them. Then again, anyone who isn’t like you will only hear it as garbled glitching. You’re only hoping the more understandable name you’re allowing them to call you is enough.

“Are you doing anything after work?” You decide to try and go for it, hoping that maybe, just maybe he’ll say yes like he’s done a few times before. Besides, he said “No” in the previous day. So this time, now that you’re more normal, they should say yes.

“No… I’m not doing anything. Why do you ask?” He seems genuinely interested this time, leaving that fuzzy warmth to worm its way into your head. An odd gurgling noise escapes you, making their brows furrow in confusion as you suddenly leave. Behind you, just before you exist, you can hear a small “It was cute but in a creepy, stalkerish way… And a little weird… A me type of weird.” escape him. Their comments don’t sound disgusted however, they sound more like you’ve successfully gotten their curiosity paired with their attention.

It’s a few hours later that John leaves the gas station. You can feel your entire being shake with excitement, feeling the hope that his choices will lead to the correct ending; no more time-loops or reality-shifting needed. You’re quiet as you creep closer and closer to the oblivious person in front of you. You can hear their mumblings about “finally getting off work” combined with “can’t wait to sleep.”

“Hi,” You’re practically hovering behind him, staring with large pupils. Your hands are shaking as you clutch them near your stomach. You refrain from touching him in case you scare him away. An entire body shudder is an answer you receive; just faintly you can hear them swallow. “Oh… My bad. I didn’t think I’d frighten you so bad…” You give him an apologetic smile, despite not feeling sorry at all. Seeing any reaction from them only feeds your infatuation. Before he can even respond, you’re leaning in more, invading his space. “Can I come home with you? Please? We can.. We can get to know each other better! Have a relationship!” You’re coming on strong, you know you are, but you can barely hold in your desperation.

Your last sentence seems to surprise them, seeing that spiral on their shirt appear again. Maybe should reword it… “Like- Like a great friendship! Best friends!” Your hands are shaking so badly, forcing you to dig them into your gut to hide it. That doesn’t hide how your voice shakes as you trip over your words. They lick their lips, glancing away from you for a second to process your words.

“Alright… Yeah. Yeah, you can come over-” His pupils are large again, a barely-there flush slowly crawling up his neck and towards his face. Their words are cut off when the bus arrives. As soon as those eyes leave to look at the bus pulling up, you dart away. You have to make it to his apartment as fast as possible. You have to get there before they can. Ȳ̸̼̹̉̃͘Ǒ̴̯͐͛͠U̸͖̩̜͛ ̸̟̱̙͔͊H̵̑̕͜͝A̸͇̱̺͗͘V̷̨͖̗̗͒E̵̢͖̕͜ ̶̳̭̲̓T̵̮͔͖̗̈́̌O̵̙̹̹͈͌͒̓.̴̩̝̟̭͋̓ [7]

--------------------------------------------

Unease, curiosity, and excitement waft to you from the entrance of John’s apartment. You made it just before they had, vibrating with a feeling of fear mixed with passion. Slowly, he carefully enters his apartment. The trash, including the ungodly smell of everything in the apartment, would usually turn people away but turning off your smell to some things, or even rewiring your own brain can make it smell like it’s a new sort of heavenly desert, helps you enjoy John’s scent and their unhygienic apartment.

“Anyone home..? [Redacted]? Anyone?” Hearing your name from those lips makes a wheezing sound from the build-up of emotions. The sound you’ve let escape you allows John to locate you easily in his living room. There’s a nest of both unwashed clothings paired with blankets made on the sofa.

“Hello, John!” You can feel your mouth salivate. You’re so close. So, so close. You can smell their anger, their shock. You’re confused by it but try to push on. He said you could come over! They shouldn’t be mad at you for doing just that! “It’s unfair, you know? So, very unfair!” You cry out, feeling your eyes start to water. The stress from so many time-loops, so many rejections, and constantly having to alter your looks taking its toll. “You’ve NEVER given me a chance! Never! Not ONCE.” The static garbles some words while enhancing others. “I did everything right! I did everything I thought you’d like! That you’d LOVE.” You see the person before you sweating slightly, brows furrowed in concentration. Maybe he to, is stressed from all these loops and finally feeling its effects like you. “I can be anything you want! Anything you like!” The more normal form you have shifts to a more distorted, uncanny one. Neither is your true form but the most humanoid you’ve ever been; all of it has been for them. So much energy. So much time. It’s all been put into what he wants or what they may find even remotely attractive.

Finally, you settle on the more uncanny form. You’re shaking with your stress. Sweat covers you layers, forcing your clothes to stick to your heated skin. The anxiety is creeping into your voice the longer John is silent. Your tears are so close to spilling over as you choke out your desperate question. “What’s wrong with me…? Don’t you love me?”

The silence seems to stretch on. John’s own stress seems to melt away as realization dawns on them. He blinks a few times, staring at you as everything falls into place. Maybe it’s your shaking. Or it could be the fact that you just poured your entire being into your rant but a smile makes its way onto their face. It reminds you of your own in a way. There are too many teeth, pupils dilated, together with the shaking of their entire being. “I do love you…” Their voice shakes with this declaration, breathing getting heavier. You can feel your pupils dilate and warmth flood your entire body. “Of course, I love you… But not when you pretend to be something else.” Be yourself? But that isn’t what John wants… No, it is. He’s saying it right now so they must mean it. “You don’t have to alter your appearance or your personality for me… It’ll all be fake then.” His eyes are wide, smile just as big as excitement courses through them. How could you not notice how unhinged he was? They have to be just like you! You had just pushed too fast, that was it! Made them lose interest too fast! “I remember the past loops… All of them. You’ve been trying for weeks, haven’t you?”

“Every day. I’ve been looping this every single day… Hoping! Hoping you’d say yes!” Your tears are finally rolling down your cheeks. You’re getting choked up, wanting the right answer so badly. Wanting to end the endless Ạ̶̏̐ͅ ̷̟̅̆͌̄G̷͖͌̋̓ͅ ̷̼̬̯̦̌̈́͘͠O̸̤͍͙͑́̈ͅ ̶̟͕̒̽͛N̷̡͙͉̾͆̇ ̸̧̻̮͋̆̄Ÿ̸̢̰̪́̽̕ [8] you’ve had to endure to get John to just yearn for you as you do him.

“We're just going to keep meeting like this, aren't we? It's just some endless loop…” There’s a pause as they finally make a decision. “So… We may as well see what happens then.” You feel your legs give out, the stress exploding. You grab your shirt close to your chest, sobbing in happiness on your knees. A genuine smile spreads across your face. Your entire being shakes as you feel the time loop ends. Finally. You finally achieved the Correct Ending.

A hand settles on your shoulder as John crouches down in front of you. It’s tight, grounding even. Your sobs don’t stop even when they sit in front of you. When the hand leaves, you look at him. His grin is shaking, alongside his body. His eyes are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know why but you don’t care. You latch onto the man in front of you, gasping for air but also to get as much of his smell as you can. Your nails pierce his skin, making the wounds bleed, with how tight you hold onto them. This doesn’t bother them though as he latches onto you just like you’ve done. Their nails sinking into your own skin brings no blood. Only indents are left behind. Gentle static noises surround you both as your sobbing subsides. It’s more of a gentle buzzing as you let your form slump into John’s, letting it mould itself to his. No more time-loops or needing to shift reality to get John to love you anymore. Not when you finally have it.

KEYS:

[1] love

[2] long

[3] remember

[4] loving

[5] BAD ENDINGS

[6] _--_-_-_ 

[7] YOU HAVE TO.

[8] AGONY

[damnfandomproblems]

Both of these asks did not read my ask

~~~~

"I am so happy for this person that they have never had to experience the things that would make people bitter uncomfortable and upset about this kind of thing but this entire response is so rude and disrespectful ."

Cool. Good job assuming you know my life or struggles. Children shouldnt be shamed for having fun. I also literally said that they should be taught to be respectful and not to mock the disorder.

Tiktok is horrible about filters and pushing things to you that you dont want to see. Ofc its going to upset you to see kids do this all the time. The algorithm doesnt give you a choice.

What those people do online spreads misinformation and has actual consequences for people who are actually living with those things.

No one said they didnt.

If you’re old enough to be online you’re old enough to understand the consequences of your actions and when behavior is inappropriate.

Wrong. No one taught them. Humans do have a sense of right and wrong, but thats all it is. A sense. It takes experience and wisdom to learn what actually harms other and what doesnt. We are not born with these answers and no one is teach these children these things. Our society has changed drastically and basic respect and self discipline is almost a thing of the past.

Screaming at kids for just doing what they believe is having fun will not fix the problem of lack or respect and consideration they hold for others.

They make it much harder for self diagnosis to be taken seriously and when those who actually have something mention it online it gets discredited because of these people. It is an actual problem in our community’s and I do not appreciate the lack of understanding and dismissive nature this person has.

Indeed. It is a problem. But again shaming kids is not the solution. Doing so will just hinder their creativity and make them feel insecure.

Many of these kids are dealing with problems of their own. Theres a lot of neglect going on due to parents allowing their children to be raised on the internet. This is also causing the problems in behaviour we are dealing with. Many are depressed and are just looking to have a bit of joy in their life.

You cant just take it away from them. You cant tell them they arent allowed. You arent their parents but shaming them will just cause resentment and more aggressive behaviour.

If theres anyone who has a lack of understanding and dismissive nature it is you.

~~~~

The person was probably talking mostly about teenagers and adults doing this kind of thing not kids because that’s mostly who do it and they know better.

You should never assume some people "should" know better about niche topics. There are still adults and teens who arent terminally online or look for drama. Many just see a cool concept, get inspired, make a video and move on with their day.

Also from the way this person talks they have clearly never had to deal with anything (mental illness or otherwise ) that was later made trendy ( but only if you have a fun version obviously).

More assumptions. I dont owe you my diagnosis report.

I was relentlessly bullied for things I can’t control you can’t even begin to understand how it feels to log on one day and see countless people acting out stereotypes of the thing people torment you for and spreading wild amounts of misinformation.

:)

Because that’s a massive part of the problem

MISINFORMATION BEING SPREAD

Correct. Misinformation is a problem. But you are attacking the wrong people.

Cutting off the flowers but leaving the roots.

It may be fun and games to you but to people who actually have those things it’s incredibly hurtful and genuinely damaging irl and online there is no way to fake it without spreading misinformation

You know what's also damaging? Telling children to kill themselves over stuff like this. Because that's what a lot of people do. Ive seen it happen here on tumblr countless times. Blogs disappearing and many other going quiet only to then at some point have a family member or friend come on and announce their suicide on the page or on a different blog.

No one os saying the lack of respect, consideration and the abundance of misinformation ISNT a problem.

But driving people to suicide is not a solution. Shaming people for having fun just playing pretend is not the solution.

And yes there are those that know what they are doing is wrong. That still does not justify harassing them or suibaiting them. It does not matter how much it upsets you, you dont get to decide a random stranger on the internet deserves to die for it.

~~~~

Honestly i dont care what kids do for fun

My elder sister got really upset at our niece (10) for making an OC with a split personality because its "problematic" and shes met people who actually have DID so she cant stand her making a "disrespectful" character.

Its stupid. Our niece was just having fun and meant zero disrespect to people who actually deal with these kind of mental disorders.

Read this 10 times please ^^^

Its important that children learn about these things. Learn what they are and how they can affect the people that have them. Im not trying to say they shouldnt, but we shouldnt shame kids for having fun with the concept of these things either.

Note that i absolutely said this ^^^

Unfortunately the kids who started doing this trendy stuff were never taught about these disorders besides people online and eachother. But they werent wrong to be having fun with it. Just they should have been taught how to be respectful and not mock people who have these disorders and to learn that them pretending to have "alters" or characters in their mind to cope with boredom and the general shittyness of life is not the same as someone who was traumatized to the point of their mind actually splitting into two (or more) separate personalities and people (among other things) in order to protect itself.

Biggest paragraph here so how did you miss me saying this

Its the new "kinning" thing in alot of ways and really kids just need to be taught discipline and respect towards others. Many think being a mean bully is "edgy and cool" but when i was a child all the "edgy and cool" teens were scene kids and they were ACTUALLY the sweetest people i knew because they knew what it was like to be bullied and hurt by their peers. Its just a big problem of kids not being properly taught how to behave around people. Zero consequences for their actions and not learning to take responsibility for them too

Like seriously how do you read my ask this badly to have missed this

~~~~

I never said there weren't any problems. Especially about misinformation and people's behaviour. My point was about how no one should be shamed, harassed, anything else for exploring DID and the like as a concept.

There are better things you can do to alleviate the problems you are facing that ISNT driving people off the internet and to suicide. This "solution" is incredibly prevalent in these communities and only creates more negative stigma around people with these disorders, so i suggest you work on that first.

The behaviour of people, especially children cannot be fixed by the DID and neurodivergent community alone, but people will be more amenable to listening to you about your issues if you suggest compromise and understanding.

They are humans with their own problems going on and you need to treat them as such. You will find people who are completely unwilling, but you need to not focus so much on them and instead move on to paying attention to the people who are willing. Eventually the people who are willing will outnumber those that aren't. Just learn to stop treating people like shit and assuming they are always intentionally malicious and you'll find a lot more people are willing to help you.

Anon is replying to two several asks relating to Problem #4978.

[iamskadhi]

Note: this is the first time I write anything in english so take it more like an idea or whatever. I have no respect for this language, but correct me when I'm wrong, please.

I had this "OC" in my mind for years but I can't recall her name, so you can imagine this is you, you're narrating this story, past tense and present might be a little all over the place, ehe.

I always imagined this like a series of mini comics because it contains some things from Dabi's past like before being Dabi the villain but after the fire that "killed him", I'm just not patient or talented enough to draw all that.

+4000 words.

Warning: it may be boring, you may read some dumb teen behaviour, soft +18 content, slow burn, and some Bella Swan vibes.

Nothing more to say, I hope somebody likes it.

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

I met Dabi when I was barely a teenager; too young, too naive, but also too mad at my parents so I took every chance to be with people I shouldn't be around and that's exactly how I met him. He had a fire quirk that harms his body so he looked like shit, he wasn’t exactly handsome but he was light-hearted.

I noticed he dyed his hair black and I started to help him with it, also helped him cure his skin when he over used his quirk. I don’t know how or when but we became closer.

There was just... something in his eyes. Never seen eyes that color blue. Anybody would think he was a bad influence but it was the other way round. Dabi was such a nice guy, always telling me to go home, go to school, helping me with anything I needed and all I needed was him —with me— all the time.

“I like you” he said, “you’re kind and pretty, also you’re rich, why do you hang around these losers?”

“I like you” I said. I could never forget the smile on his face.

He told me about his past and I thought his future was us, together. We were young, those were the days when you think you know everything but you’re just naïve, too naïve. We would lay down in the grass and tangle up, I usually bring food and beverages for everyone, he’d put his arm around my shoulders and tell everyone not to mess with me, he made me feel special, he made me feel loved and mature.

We invented a signal and we started to meet at midnight, it was easy because I had a quirk that allowed me to teleport. Wherever he strayed, I followed and I would’ve begged for him to hold my hand and never let go.

However, time passed and he and his friends got in big trouble. I knew they were thieves, and then they became murderers and had to take different paths.

“You can’t hide me alone, are you fucked in the head?!” Dabi yelled at me when we had our first big fight because of that. “We need to go and you can’t come with us, your parents will get us caught for kidnapping, this is my last word. You stay, we’ll meet again someday.”

We lost contact before I graduated; he simply disappeared and left me with a broken heart.

I cried my eyes out for a month, but a girl gotta be tough and smart and independent. I moved out of my parents house when I finished high school, thanks to my dad, he rented a whole apartment near college and that was probably the first time in a long time I was grateful to have a wealthy family.

I just had to study and work for the family business and life would be sweet, but then one day I saw him. He walked by the Coffee Shop I used to go. How could I ever forget him? He wasn't exactly my first love but definitely one true love. My heart stopped for a second and then raced like crazy, I got up and out of the place running.

"DABI" I yelled but he kept walking, "Dabi, stop!" He walked around the corner of a dark alley, so I stopped, I doubted:

Should I follow or should I let him go for good? It's been a couple of years, he probably has someone new now, I thought.

Then I heard him:

"It's been a long time" he said from the shadows of that alley, his voice changed a bit, matured, "I was convinced you forgot about me. I missed you"

A tear shed from my left eye when I saw his face, his burned skin looked worse than before.

"What an asshole" I said and ran to his arms, hugged him hard enough for him to moan, "I thought I'd never see you again."

I punched his chest.

"You dumbass, I hate you. I hate you! I should hate you but I'm just mad at you and I just wanna cry and I... I..." words escaped from my mind for a moment, "do you want a coffee or anything?"

He laughed and hugged me gently.

"I'm sorry. I missed you", he said.

For what it felt like an eternity, that was all that he could say. I was confused and happy at the same time, he walked with me to my place, looked up at the building and said something about being too far from his place, he didn't tell me where his place was or what he's been doing. We made a deal to meet at the coffee shop every Wednesday and for a few months that was okay.

“I still like you” he confessed randomly.

“I like you too”

He never told me what he does for a living, but I could imagine it. I felt like the more that he said, the less that I knew about his life and I was okay with that as long as he would stay around.

One day, he didn't show up. The next Wednesday, he came with an excuse about a job I’m sure he made up to keep me happy, to keep me safe.

"Dabi, why don't you come live with me?" I asked one time. His big blue eyes were wide open and I was sure he was gonna say no, so I insisted:

"I don't have a lot of free time lately, this is my senior year and I need to focus but I still want you around, come live with me and I'll see you every night, you don't have to worry about your job, you know you can live rent-free and..."

"No. Stop. No."

"Just come see the apartment, please.” I insisted, I didn’t want to let him go again, “It's big enough I swear and we can..."

"Please, stop. I have pride. I'm still a man."

He talked about how different we were, but I knew it wasn't true, he said maybe if I was less dependent of my parents we could work this out, but I knew that was just an excuse. It took me a couple of months but I made him come into my apartment.

"I just need to pick something real quick, come with me" I said and it wasn't all lie, I needed something it just wouldn't be quick.

He looked around the living room, I went to my bedroom to pick some books and when I walked out, he was looking out the window.

"You have a nice view", he said. I could see his blue eyes reflexing on the window’s glass.

"I know"

I walked to him and hugged him.

"I missed being this close in private.” I whispered.

“The last time we were fifteen", he concurred.

He didn't grow any taller since then, I put my head on his shoulder and felt a shiver. His hands went from my hair down to my shoulders, then down to my back until he touched my ass cheeks. I closed my eyes and left a sigh out.

"You've changed", he whispered, I looked at his face and he had that smile, I'd never forget the smile he had the first time I saw him, or the first time that we had sex.

"We were just kids back then, pretending to be adults"

"I don't regret that" he kissed me slowly.

"Me neither"

He took my clothes off clumsily and I led us to the couch, I could tell he didn't have anything with anybody else and I was so relief about it. I took his jacket off and went straight to his pants; he already had an erection like he was craving for it all this time.

"No more games" he said "let's go to your room"

I took his hand and we went to bed, I laid down and he kissed and touched me viciously, then I remembered I didn't have a condom and pushed him away.

"Do you have...?"

"No" he said, he knew what I meant.

"Damn it!" I cursed; we were already there like that. "I could go..."

"No, don't worry. You had to pick something anyway; we'll do it any other day"

My heart raced. I wanted to take him immediately when he said that, but I just kissed him and made him promise he'd come back. And he did. Over and over.

Until he was practically living there with me. I had him just where I wanted and then, one day, my mother showed up.

"You have to finish this relationship before other people find out. You can't live like this, we raised you better than that. You better not get pregnant or I'll drag you to an abortion clinic myself."

Good thing: that day Dabi wasn't around. Time passed and he was more and more time somewhere far away; I had the feeling he would disappear again, so I had to talk it out but I didn’t know how, I thought he would take it as a sign to completely disappear.

"You could leave a note, you know, or send me a text. Tell me when you're leaving, for how long... I'll graduate soon, I'm busy too but at least I tell you when I'm coming home late."

"I think I can't keep living here" he said "I've been trying to protect you from the things I do, but I think it's catching up. I can't risk you, I can't lose you"

I felt my blood pressure go low.

"So you're leaving me... again"

He did not say anything.

We both knew this day would come around. I just wanted to keep my delusional idea that we would work things out. Run away together, somewhere far from Japan. I even suggested Spanish lessons one night.

"I love you" he whispered in my ear when he hugged me "and I'll find you when I'm done"

"Done with what?"

He kissed me and walked to the door.

"Touya, done with what?!"

I only called him by his real name when I was angry and he knew. His last gaze before closing the door was so sad but I was at the edge of going mad.

"STUPID TODOROKI!"

I threw my phone across the living room. I screamed and kicked the sofa, my tears ricochet and I tried to stop them with my hands but couldn’t; and then I just went to my room and tried to retain it all back inside.

I cried, until my face was red and swollen and couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I looked like a frog whenever I cry this much so I did't get out of bed for a whole day.

I couldn't possibly imagine what he was doing; but every time there was a fire, anything related to blue flames I knew it was him and I kinda knew why. I knew everything about his family, about his father.

All Might retired, so Dabi's father was #1 Hero now. It must have messed with his brain and I wished I could have helped him, but you cannot help someone that doesn't want to be saved.

I did my best to move on. I graduated and started to work at my father's company. I realized Dabi was right about me: I was my father’s daughter and I couldn’t live without his protection; but there was nothing wrong about it, now that I was older, I realized I was lucky for it. I wished he had my luck.

Left the apartment and moved to a different city, my mom was too excited about that, she visited me the first chance she had.

"You know whose hero's agency is really near?" She asked me, "Hawks’ agency, the #2 hero!" She was suspiciously excited about it, "he's so young but so talented and handsome! You know, I could set..."

"Mother, leave"

"What?"

"You do not get to do this, you do not get to set me a blind dates, I don't want you to do that and I don't want you here. I moved so I didn't have to have you around, don't visit me unannounced anymore, please, now leave"

"You ungrateful piece of shit" she started saying something but I wasn’t gonna let her talk:

"Yeah, I know, I know, take your things now and leave"

She started an argument so I just walked to my bedroom and closed the door lock. I assumed she would get tired of talking to the door and leave. I took a sleeping pill; I loved those pills. Then the most unimaginable thing happened when I woke up, there was a chaos outside, too much noise and heat and apparently, there was two heroes fighting a monster, a nomu.

I went inside to check the news, the battle seemed lost but Endeavor managed to win. I fucking hated that guy, but damn he was strong… and so was his son.

I missed Dabi. I kept sending text messages for a while after he left me and he never replied so I stopped, but at that moment I felt the urge to try again.

“Did you watch the news?” I asked.

“What’s your new address?”

“Are you serious, you fucking dork?" I texted back.

"I'll find you, I'm pretty near" he replied. I blushed a little, I felt excited to see him again.

"You better come with a bouquet, coffee and the most dramatic apology you can think of"

“LMAO”, was his last text.

Almost a week later, a bouquet appeared at my entrance.

Holy shit, I thought. There was a note: "I miss you, I’ll be back soon"

Later, after work, I got a free coffee.

"A guy paid for it earlier, he said he knew you, I hope it's okay" said the girl at the counter.

"He had blue eyes and looked like a crispy chip?"

"Mmm, yes" she stuttered.

"It's good, thank you"

“You’re welcome, come back soon!” She sighed in relief.

Then, when I got home the door was open and it made me so angry.

"If this is the best apology you can imagine, you're the biggest asshole...!"

However, there was no one inside. I looked around the house, he wasn't there. I felt insecure so I called a friend, I stayed at her apartment that night and she tried to convince me to call the police.

I said I would, but I called him instead.

He answered.

"Today at my house, was it you?"

"What?" He sounded confuse.

"The door was open but there was no one inside"

"I sent you flowers and coffee but I didn't think of any way to apologize enough to you. I didn't go to your house and I won't go until you let me"

"Okay… I think I'll call the police then, don’t come near"

"Good. Take care."

“I…”

Silence. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t expect him to pick up the phone in the first place. He whispered my name:

“Thank you for loving me this whole time” he said and hung up.

I felt like stupid for not saying anything. I didn’t even said that I loved him, never said it but actions speak for themselves and I couldn’t deny it.

After calling the police, some heroes would walk by my house every damn day; my father visited to make sure they did, my mother was too offended to come with him.

Turned out it was just a robbery case.

“Your mom and I talked about what happened between you two and I have to keep her happy, honey”, he stated “they don’t say ‘happy wife, happy life’ for nothing, I know she hasn’t been the best to you, but she tries”

“She treats me like shit, always have”

“Don’t say that” he sighed. “Let’s make a deal: I will set you a couple of dates just to calm her down and you choose the type of man you want to go to dates with, uh?”

I smiled viciously.

“No criminals!” he immediately said “don’t put yourself in danger just to get to your mother’s nerves, think about me too. There must be some nice guys you’d like to meet.”

“What if I want to date a woman?”

“Fine by me, I like woman too”

“I don’t like woman that way, I just wanted to know if I could.”

He laughed and looked at the time.

“Your mom told me about that hero, Hawks, I met him and he’s not very heroic actually, he’s just lucky he has a useful quirk, I think you’d like him”

“You’re pushing me”

“I’m not. Let’s set this now, you’ll have two dates, one with that hero prick and one with whoever you want, some college colleague preferably”

“Okay, fine, but the second date will be a woman.”

Mother always got what she wanted.

“Excellent, my dear! Send me her profile when you pick one, I’ll set the time and date, you go wherever you want and keep me updated. I gotta go now”

I chose a friend from college my mother never seemed to approve. As soon as I made my choice, my dad did his part.

The day I met Keigo it was rainy, he asked me if I wanted to cancel but I didn’t, I liked rain when it’s calm and I wanted to finish my duty as soon as possible. We went for coffee, watched a movie and then to a nice but not too elegant restaurant for dinner.

When I told him I had no intentions to date him, he told me he had no excuse to reject this date since he took a break from his hero’s agency for personal reasons; he seemed nice, careless and turned out to be easy-going, but he wasn’t Dabi.

I swore I could go home by myself but he insisted and when we were arriving, he put his arms around me.

“Don’t be scared” he said and took fly with me. I teleported back to the ground without thinking and shouted at him:

“What the fuck were you thinking?! What were you trying to do to me, you psycho?!”

He looked down at me and I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to use your quirk whenever you want, you’re not a professional hero nor a villain like me” Dabi was by my side and his eyes locked to Keigo’s. He came down with his hands exposed.

“I sensed you following me, I didn’t think you two knew each other” Keigo looked careful now.

“We’re like childhood friends” Dabi said, “I was curious why would someone like her hang around a hero like you”

“It was my mom’s idea” I said, “Dad intervened, long story short, I have to go to blind dates now, it’s none of your business” I looked at Keigo: “now I am curious why you’re not trying to catch him”

“I told you I’m off duty”

“Sure”

Something was off, I knew but I couldn’t tell. Dabi always kept me far enough and safe from his business. These two knew each other, but I couldn’t tell if Dabi was an informant or it was the other way round.

“I’ll take her home now” Dabi said.

“What kind of man would let his date go home with another man?” Keigo smiled.

I felt Dabi’s hand get warmer so I took it off my shoulder.

“I told you I could go home by myself, so I’m leaving. You two can catch up now, it seems like you have something to talk about”

“You’re wrong” Dabi said, “You and I have a lot to catch up”

I looked him in the eyes, it cut deep to know him right to the bone. He came back and he’d go away soon.

“I know that it’s over, Dabi, I don’t need your closure” I said firmly and walked away. It hurted more than I expected, I wasn’t serious, just wanted to mislead Hawks.

The rain came pouring down the closer I got home, it helped me conceal my stupid tears. That night I slept on the couch, I kinda expected Dabi to come but he did not.

Keigo, on the other hand, appeared at my door early in the morning with a nice bouquet.

“You may think I’m not serious,” he said “but I found you amusing”

He accompanied me on the way to work, behave nicely, but I suspected of his true intentions.

“Dabi was a part of a rebel phase when I was younger,” I admitted, he didn’t say anything, neither pretended he didn’t wanna know, “he comes and goes, he may think that I’m bulletproof but I’m not”

“With a quirk like yours, you could easily avoid a bullet” he tried to joke around but I didn’t let it slide.

“I’m conscious that he sees what he does to me, he knows exactly how to ruin a perfect day and I’m sick and tired of that attitude, so whatever you’re trying to do here, end it right now”

His smirk faded.

“Last night you said it was over, but I see it’s not. I won’t annoy you anymore”

His phone ringed, we said goodbye and he left me alone. I knew he just wanted to know if I was involved in anything Dabi was.

Life turned boring for a while and that was okay, but myhouse started to feel too big for me alone. I was considering to move to an apartment or bring a girl friend to live with me when I looked out the window and saw a letter outside the mailbox; when I went out to pick it, looked around but didn’t see anybody.

I knew it was his.

I knew it was a goodbye letter, I had to let him go.

“I won’t make assumptions why you moved to a different city but I think it’s cause of me. I swear I gave my blood, sweat and if I could cry I’d give my tears to protect you from the things that I do but it wasn’t enough, I could never give you peace”, he wrote.

“Deep down I hoped I would never lose you, eventually I did. I’m not your problem anymore. I can’t just show up at your front door and expect you to let me in, but I want to do it anyway.

Now that we don’t talk, I just wanted you to know I wish I was a better man for you.”

Lastly, he wrote:

“I’m sorry that I hurted you, it’s not your fault.”

I never felt so attacked by a piece of paper in my life. I knew I was better alone than needing a man like him, but the heart wants what it wants. Wishing he was a better man wasn’t an option, I loved him for being the man he was, the fact that he didn’t see it my way was painful.

All this time I thought he could see right through me, now I wonder what was he seeing this whole time.

I called him but he didn’t pick up the phone, so I started to write a text message when I heard the door ring bell and he was there standing at my door.

“This is the last time” he said, “I swear this is the last time”

He put his arms around me, he was warm and had that suspicious smell like he over used his quirk.

“You’re an asshole” I mumbled.

“I know”

“I’m tired of this”

“I know”

“I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you”

“You won’t have to”

I looked at his face, surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s go inside, we have a lot to talk about” he walked in.

For the first time, he opened up about everything, I listened carefully; I got worried, even cried a little. I suggested again that we could run away together but he didn’t want to, he was determined to fulfil his revenge against Endeavor even if it killed him in the process.

It made me want to die. I took a deep breath.

“You can’t come here and expect me to accept that you’re willing to die just to expose your father’s shit to everyone in Japan” he opened his mouth but I didn’t let him talk, “you have to choose right now, Touya, you leave now or you stay with me. You can’t just ask a person that loves you to sit and watch you get killed, you’ll have to kill me just the same”

Dabi hugged me gently, kissed me softly.

“Never going to happen”

My heart ached. I knew he’d leave me in the morning, but all I could think about was that I wished I could go back in time and save Touya from that fire. If anybody could go back in time and save him, knowing what I know, even if it meant we wouldn’t meet or be together… that’d be okay.

“Dabi, I’m sorry I didn’t meet you before”

He looked confused.

“I think we never stood a chance, did we? Wanna come to bed?” I asked and he smiled.

“Yeah, ready for it?”

I laughed and took his hand, led him to the bedroom, took his jacket off and appreciated his burned arms for a moment. I touched his burned lip with the tip of my finger.

“I love you” he said.

“Just not enough to stay”

“I…”

I shushed him. Nothing he could say would eased the pain I was feeling that night. I hugged him, kissed him and whispered in his ear:

“I love you too. Now show me your love with actions instead of words”

[changingplumbob]

Chopra Household: Chapter 6, Part 5

Time for the nanny from hell to meet the Chopra toddlers. What happens when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force?

CW: Mean nanny

If Viola is attempting to say something it will be in brackets, otherwise you can assume it's just trying out sounds Mercedes has a speech delay and may get words wrong, correct wording will be in brackets if that is the case Savannah aka Honeybee Mercedes aka Little Ladybug Viola aka Green Bean

Cassandra and Rahul have their own psychiatrist appointments so Savannah and Mercedes are left in the charge of nanny Alana. Mercedes feels this is most unfair and can’t understand why she wasn’t allowed to go with mama. Mama loves her, why couldn’t Mercedes stay with mama?

Alana: Stop sulking, you’re supposed to be five. Grow up and act like it

Mercedes: *sniffles*

Alana: Look they’ll be back eventually. Until then, behave

If you’ve been paying attention you can probably guess that my girls are not going to behave themselves. Savannah has found some paint who knows where and decides to decorate the kitchen for her papa. Mercedes is trying to find her favourite book and is tearing the bookshelf apart looking.

Alana: What the heck is this? Where did you get paint

Savannah: I make pretty for papa, he be happy. He love mama and she pretty

Alana: Oh I don’t think so

Mercedes: *insulted* What say mama (bitch what did you say about my mother)

Alana: *scoffs* I can’t even understand you. Look, your parents won’t find this pretty

Savannah looks sadly at Mercedes then at the paint in her hands.

Mercedes: NO!

Alana: No what

Mercedes: You WRONG. Mama pretty! Savannah make PRETTY. You not know pretty

To emphasise her point Mercedes kicks Alana’s shin as hard as she can while Savannah giggles and returns to her masterpiece.

Alana: What the hell? Why are you so aggressive

Mercedes: I right. Mama PRETTY. Savannah MAKE PRETTY

Alana: Listen here you little spoiled ship! Violence is never okay. How would you like it if I kicked you?

Mercedes: *darkly* try

Alana: so much for toddlers being sweet

Alana: All three of you are nightmares

Savannah: *laughing to herself while spilling paint*

Mercedes: Good

Alana: It’s not good, it’s terrible. You thank your lucky stars your mother is loaded because your money is all you will ever have going for you

Rahul: What did you just say to my daughter?

Alana: You’re back? Thank the watcher! I hate to break it to you, actually no I don't. Your kids are spoiled little-

Rahul: Don’t even think about finishing that sentence!

Rahul: My daughters are not the best behaved girls but they don’t have to be, they’re still toddlers! They are learning. As a nanny you should have learned but it would appear you are still missing some manners

Alana: You can’t talk to me like that! I’m older than you

Rahul: You insulted my kids when you were supposed to look after them. I’m reporting your behaviour to the agency, you will not be coming to my home again

Alana: Let’s not be hasty

Rahul: Hasty? You think we don’t have baby monitors? I heard how you treated my infant and with what I just heard here you should be glad I’m not calling the cops

Alana: Fine! Have your brats! I’m leaving

Cassandra: But... big guy we don’t have baby monitors

Rahul: You know that and I know that but clearly my suspicions were right. She didn’t deny treating Viola like she did our twins. If she had treated Viola well she would have denied that a monitor could hear anything. Is Viola okay

Cassandra: Sound asleep, I went straight there when we heard that woman yelling

Breathing a sigh of relief Rahul turns his sights to an innocent looking toddler amidst paint spatter.

Rahul: Now honeybee, can you explain what happened here

Savannah: I… make pretty?

Rahul: Why did you make pretty Savannah

Savannah: Papa… love pretty. You always tell mama. I want to make pretty so you love house

Rahul: Oh Savannah, I love you and the house, I promise. But it’s not good to spill paint everywhere

Savannah: But… why? I make pretty! I being nice

Rahul: I can see it’s pretty but it’s also a tricky mess

Savannah: *confused* Why?

Rahul: Paint, I don’t even know where you found paint, can be very hard to clean. If it stays on our floor and our rugs it can make the house look messy. We’ll have to clean it up later

Savannah: Later?

Rahul: Yes honeybee. Remember what the doctor said? We have to work on your movement so…

Savannah’s little face lights up as she begins to understand.

Savannah: Playtime papa?

Rahul: Yes, playtime. Come here you little rugrat

Savannah bursts into giggles and jumps up and down excitedly.

As soon as Cassandra finishes pumping a giggling Mercedes runs into her arms.

Mercedes: Mama I… I…

Cassandra: Take your time little ladybug. I'm listening

At the psychiatrist Mercedes communicated she sometimes tries to rush her words so that her parents will listen before Viola cries. It was agreed that if she's talking it's best for Rahul and Cassandra to let her know they're listening for as long as she needs, at least at this age while her speech is still developing. Also Mercedes depiction of a speech delay is one that will be visible when reading, I'm not saying everyone with a speech delay has her particular issue with words.

Mercedes: I… dear friend (defend) Savannah from mean nanny

Cassandra: Did you do that? What a big brave girl

Mercedes: *whispers* I kick her and yell

Cassandra: *sighs* We’re not meant to kick people Mercedes. In time you’ll be able to use your words, I promise

Mercedes: *whispers* I try best

Cassandra: I’m sure you did Mercedes and I’m proud of you for sticking up for your sister. We just have to think of ways to deal with your anger

Brilliant news! With some guidance both twins reach level 3 potty skill, they’ll be able to go by themselves. Since it’s new year’s eve the girls have afternoon naps as they want to see how late they can stay up. While Rahul goes to tend the garden Cassandra happily goes to check her animals. She throws feed around the coop and calls out. An alert Cluckton runs around the corner and up to her (it was so cute, I nearly died).

Cassandra: Mr Cluckton! I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with the humans, I wasn’t purposefully ignoring you

Cluckton: *clucks* You’re forgiven mama

Cassandra: You have been doing such a good job defending the property haven’t you? Your papa has ordered you a special medal to go on your hutch so everyone can know of your bravery

Cluckton: *clucks* as they should

After a big hug session Cassandra returns Cluckton to the ground. As she tends to the coop he does his duty. He sounds the food is here call, and rounds up his wife and daughters, making sure everyone is eating. Rahul is tending the garden when he gets great news. He is now level 10 in gardening! His ambition is to be level 8 in 6 skills so he may have to divert his attentions elsewhere for a while.

Cassandra cleans and shears Seven, making sure to compliment her cloud like appearance. Then she cleans and milks Turtle who is happily snoozing in the prairie grass. After a short while Mr Cluckton alerts everyone to the special arrival.  A medal for bravery has arrived and been placed on his coop to let all know he is the best property defender around!

Previous ... Next

[talenlee]

Game Design Is Interface Design (Mostly)

Hey, what’s interface design? it’s the discipline of designing interfaces. Shocking. Marvelous. Hilarious. I should be in the pictures. But let’s keep going since that doesn’t clean everything up.

Interface design refers to the discipline not of designing an object to achieve an end but to design it so that the surface people interact with (the interface) is something that means they can make it achieve that end. It’s something covered extensively in thousands of online tutorials but also in that pesky Donald Norman’s The Design Of Everyday Things, a book which I fear I will be a chore about to people who listen.

Consider, if you will, a teakettle. This is an object that most Americans aren’t directly acquainted with but the basic device is a pot, with a handle, and a lid, that you can fill with water, plug into a mains power source, then turn on. It will boil the water, let you know when it’s boiled, and stop boiling the water once it’s got there. This device’s design can incorporate all sorts of clever systems; before mains power was used, it was a common design feature that the boiling steam escaping the pot would go through a whistled seam on the kettle, meaning the whole thing made a noise when it was boiling that would persist until you stopped it, which is pretty neat. Similarly, while once they were just metal things you put on a gas or electric stove, now they have dedicated docks and power to those docks, which includes things like fuses and transformers and anti-fire measures and internal cable structures so there’s no wrong way to plug them in and none of that

is interface design.

The majority of the kettle is not adesign that you are meant to interface with. In a big top down broad sense, you interact with a kettle because you need a kettle but the kettle itself is not the interface. You only engage with the kettle on its expected interface, which is why it has an insulated handle designed to be easily picked up, and why the button for turning on the element isn’t physically inside the kettle, near where that element goes. Instead the design of a kettle’s interface – the bits you’re meant to deal with – is meant to make sure that you touch as little of the bits that make your hot water as possible. The interface directs your intention towards action without impeding it, and without obscuring what is happening. A gauge for the water level is an entire system meant to keep you from having to open the kettle and look at the (maybe hot) water, but it’s also trying to give you entirely correct information about what is or isn’t inside the kettle. A gauge that gives you incorrect information is, instead of encouraging you to avoid a part of the kettle you shouldn’t mess with (the insides), is encouraging you to engage with it.

In this, the design of the interface of the kettle wants you to engage with it, in the way it should be operated, but also very much not engage with bits of it. This is fundamentally part of interface design and the design of everyday things: The interface is something to engage with so that you do not have to engage with everything else. The problem comes when the design is bad, the interface is bad, the door is labelled wrong or the handle of it teaches you to use it incorrectly.

And that’s where we get to games, because games are pretty much entirely an interface.

This isn’t talking about videogames, of course; a videogame has a display and buttons you can push as your interface, but that interface is layered over a number of systems that are designed to absolutely not inform you what they’re doing. You don’t need to know when your processor is handling memory dumps or garbage collection and indeed, when the computer behaviour starts to be present in the place of the player behaviour, you sort of consider that a failure state of the game’s making. No, here, we’re talking not about glitched out computer systems, but rather the games managed and maintained in a tabletop or board game space.

These analogue games are almost entirely an interface. There’s a process, a system, but the games aren’t feeding that information into a black box that’s designed to process them and keep the non-interface parts of the game away from the players. There’s some things that can be outside of a player’s reach — the information on a face-down card is hard to access, an object can live within a dice tower until it’s forced out, a number can be in potentia until a dice generates it — but the game, usually, is not making systems and objects perform actions where the player cannot see them.

Now part of this is simplicity! It’s not common for board games to have complicated pieces that can do that kind of invisible system management. App-driven games, obviously, immediately change that, where the entire operation of a phone or tablet becomes part of the game’s systems, and those want to be kept well away from the player. But that’s including a complex entity, and you’re getting something for that. Without that kind of inclusion, board games, typically, operate by a system maintained in the mind of the players, and the components, the interface, are there for managing that in their memory. Moving cards and tokens around is the interface of the game, and that interface interacts with a system inside the player’s heads.

Okay so what does that mean?

First it means that any principle of interface design can probably be extrapolated out to game design.

What is this doing, why is it doing it?

Is it clear how these pieces interact?

If a person does something here, does that create meaningful feedback?

What information do we want the meaningful feedback to have?

How can we design this interface to impede behaviour we don’t want?

And most importantly:

How can we make sure this game doesn’t look like a fucking iPhone?

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[spookyscarycreepydollgirl]

I deleted your comment because it made me so mad, but I need to explain why so you don't keep doing this. You shouldn't make queer characters straight, but it's fine to make straight characters queer because they are not a marginalised group. They are not an underrepresented group. HC-ing straight people queer is not the same as HC-ing ace people allosexual. Asexual people are ridiculed and ignored within their own community, so when we get canon representation, that needs to be respected. When the media is as saturated with ace rep as it is straight rep, we can revisit this conversation, but until then if you like the dynamic of two characters there's no reason why you can't take that and make something new with it. You don't need to erase ace characters in the process. Hope this helps

That’s a dumb thing to think, and I think you know it. Characters from marginalised groups requiring protectionist double standards I mean. They’re fictional characters, they exist to entertain. They aren’t real or worth protecting, no matter what their sexual orientation or lack there of is. I literally kill my OCs in the name of fetishisation on my blog. You don’t protect fictional characters, they’re tools, they exist to be used and exploited no matter who they represent.

That’s not even getting into the fact that you aren’t even talking about media representation, you’re talking about fanfiction. A niche close knit form of media that the majority of people will never even see. If you’re trying to influence how others think on a societal or systemic level, fanfiction is a laughable way to do it. You can’t dictate how an audience reacts to a character. You can’t control who people will ship with who or what they write about. Fanfiction is a hobby, it’s done for fun, out of dedication and passion. You should be grateful that people like the same characters you like and the same stories you like enough to want to invent new stories for them, being picky about those stories in an artistic sense is fine, but pretending it’s a question of morality? That’s just self-righteous. It’s just bossing people around and shaming them cause you think you know better.

I ship Gale X Astarion X Tav even though Gale isn’t poly and Astarion has some definite sexual trauma in his past. I ship Yuugi/Atem even though Yuugi is canonically straight. I ship tons of other things that are not even remotely canon. It’s not wrong or evil it’s creative license and it’s fun.

I should clarify that the post they’re so mad about they deleted was me essentially saying: “I ship Yuugi/Yami no Yuugi, even though Yuugi is canonically into pussy, I’m not sparing the straights, so why would I spare the asexuals?” I forget the actual wording, I don’t think I mentioned pussy in so many words. So just think of this version as a slightly more crass and dramatic reenactment.

Anyway I don’t even feel offended by being deleted this time because I’m too taken back by the need of OP to correct my supposed bad behaviour.

I’mma be honest guys, while I told this person I would lance the sacred cow of canonical queerness. I don’t actually have that many fanfiction OTPs I can think of that are straight despite being canonically queer. (Does Pomni X Caine count? An AI could be assumed to be canonically asexual right? But then the Moon is implied to get frisky so…yeah I don’t think I can determine this with just a pilot episode)

So not only am I sex repulsed IRL and thus the last person who needs to be told that life is tough for folk on the ace spectrum but the supposed “horrible” thing this person NEEDS to stop me doing I’m not entirely sure I’ve actually done. (I’ve read ALOT of fanfiction in my life though so I could just be misremembering.)

If anyone’s wondering why I’m so passionate about this though. It’s cause I want to be a proper writer one day and fictional characters as tools to be exploited is an inalienable right for writers. Does this mean I think getting attached to or empathising with characters is bad if you’re a writer? Hell no! But you gotta treat them like Sims characters and drown them in the pool without a second thought. I like my Sims, I empathise with my Sims and I still wouldn’t fucking hesitate to murder them in cold blood. And THAT my friends is the ideal attitude we should all aspire to when writing.