#and right now i can barely take care of MYSELF and it's actually really frustrating

[rhys-ravenfeather]

[sabertoothwalrus]

There’s something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.

Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if you’re “cringe” or “weird”, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.

There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what they’re “supposed” to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people they’re trying to impress aren’t worth the trouble.

I’ve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think it’s funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I don’t wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. it’s a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didn’t really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.

So anyway, let’s get into it.

Laios… he’s been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuro’s!!!!

He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.

But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.

He feels very strongly about what he considers “cool” as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.

He knows most people don’t feel the same way he does. He knows his “cool” is everyone else’s “weird”. It’s so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.

He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think he’s as cool as he finds monsters.

Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.

And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:

And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.

is what he's doing really so different than this? ^

YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!

[dollyfiles]

bsf!sarah teaching you how to squirt

cw: sarah cameron x fem!reader, wlw, mutual pining, explicit language, fingering, tit play, squirting, allusion of lesbian sex at the end

“ugh, this movie is so unrealistic,” you said, tossing a handful of popcorn in the air and catching it with your mouth. “no one falls in love that fast. like, come on, at least make it believable.” sarah laughed, brushing her blonde hair out of her face while being wrapped up in blankets. “right? im gonna throw up.”

you rolled your eyes dramatically, “exactly. like boys at our school are so hopeless. they can barely hold a conversation, let alone make a girl come.” sarah raised an eyebrow, “oh? speaking from experience?” you hesitated for a moment before shrugging.

“it’s not like it’s a secret. i’ve just… i don’t know. i feel like guys never actually know what they’re doing. like, am i supposed to feel good while you dj’ing down there?” sarah bursted out laughing. “oh my god, y/n. you’re fucking brutal.”

“just saying!” you exclaimed, laughing along. “i’ve never had a guy make me feel, like, amazing or anything. it’s hella frustrating.” you gestured vaguely. sarah smirked, leaning back against the pillows. “well, it’s definitely rare,” she said, her voice teasing.

“most of the time i just pretend.” sarah admitted, your eyes widening. “wait, really?” sarah grinned. “yea, it’s like 1 out of 3 times that i have an orgasm with a guy.. but if i do it myself, well..” she paused, “..i always squirt like crazy.”

“for real? i’ve only ever heard of that.. didn’t think it was possible, at least not for me.” you mumbled, a feeling of embarrassment creeping in. “so you’ve never..” she carefully asked, as if testing the waters. “never.” you replied bluntly, lips forming into a thin line as your body was filled with embarrassment.

that’s when sarah gathered up all her courage, blurting out the words that had been sitting in the back of her mind for the longest time now, “want me to teach you?” your brows furrowed slightly, confusion flashing across your face as you didn’t really get her implication, thinking she was just messing around. “what?”

sarah shrugged, trying to appear casual, though her heart was pounding. “why not? i mean, we’re best friends, right? who better to help you out?” you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. this was crazy. “i don’t know, sar. that’s… it’s kind of weird. don’t you think?”

“why?” she countered, leaning forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours. “it’s not like it has to mean anything. we’re both girls, we trust each other, and i just want to help you. it’s not a big deal unless you make it one.” the weight of sarah’s words hung in the air, and you found yourself wavering.

there was something about the way sarah spoke. she was so calm, yet so sure, which made you question your own hesitation. after all you were just best friends right?

“i want to help you feel good, that’s all y/n.” she smiled sheepishly, her eyes hinting a bit of hunger. and if you were being honest the thought of it slowly turned you on more than you let on. so without thinking about it for another second, you agreed, and sarah was quick to set everything up.

she layed out towels and placed soft pillows against the headboard. she definitely wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible. once everything was set, she patted on the pillow. "come lie down. you’re just gonna start with some simple touches, okay?" you nodded, your back pressed against the plush pillows and looking at her with eyes full of anticipation.

"what do you need me to do?" she scooted closer to you, letting her hands caress your soft thighs, "just relax and let me take care of everything, okay?” she placed a gentle hand on your stomach, tracing small circles with her fingers. "feel comfortable?"

"yes, very comfortable." you nodded, watching her hand grip the hem of your sleep shorts, squeezing your legs together. she was quick with it, almost as if she had imagined it before, leaving you bare infront of her. her eyes widened slightly at the sight of your naked form, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"you're so pretty," she breathed, her voice thick with lust. and with the way she looked at you, you could feel the tension rise. “we need to get you nice and ready first." she explained, reaching for your wrist and placing your own hand onto your aching core.

"go slow, nice and smooth circles.” sarah whispered, guiding your fingers over your clit. "that feels really good." you gasp as your fingers began to play with your sensitive bud, sending a warm feeling to it.

she grinned and continued her observation, feeling tingles in between her own legs as you responded so positively. "mm, you're already so wet and we’ve barely even started." her soft voice and dirty words sent shivers down your spine, arching into your own touch, but it wasn’t enough. you knew you needed more, “please..”

“please what?” she smirked mischievously, blinking up at you with thick lashes. “need more..” you whimpered, feeling vulnerable under her strong gaze, but never uncomfortable. “okay then, use your fingers inside now, curl them and try to find your g-spot, the little spongy bit.” she nodded along to your actions, watching as your soft digits disappeared into your wet hole, making you gasp.

“shit—“ you cursed, the tips of your fingers searching for the little spot. it wasn’t until you found it that you were moaning out, legs twitching every time you brushed against it. “yeah, just like that.”

your own touch was light, continuous strokes inside and out, and as good as it felt in that moment you were craving something else entirely. you found sarah’s dark eyes, looking at her with longing. "touch me," you pleaded, voice shaky, as you watched her reaction.

“your own fingers not enough?” she teased, not giving you the satisfaction just yet. “please sar..” with a slowness that was almost painful, she reached out, the soft tips of her fingers brushing against your swollen clit. her unfamiliar touch immediately sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you gasped, arching into her, “fuck..”

she teased you by rubbing your wetness all over your needy cunt before slowly pushing one of her fingers inside, your hole immediately clenching around it. “shit, i didn’t expect you to be this tight, baby.”sarah smirked as she felt your tight walls clamp down on her finger.

"mm, look at that squeeze. seems like your pussy was starving for some attention." slowly, she curled her finger inward, rubbing against the rough patch of skin. heat flooded your cheeks at her words and sarah had to chuckle, if only you knew how much she was enjoying this right now.

“feeling good?” she looked up at you, biting her lower lip. “yes, oh god, yes.” your body was burning as she added a second finger, stretching you out deliciously. you were growing more confident by the second, ripping your tank top down and playing with your already hard nipples.

she watched as you fondled your tits, a groan escaping her lips at the sight. "fuck, you look so hot playing with your tits while i finger this dripping pussy." she picked up the pace, her fingers working in and out of you with ease.

"i'm so close," you whimpered, every part of your body feeling like it was on fire as she continued her relentless pace, her fingers curling just right inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. sarah felt your walls tightening around her fingers, knowing you were close to the edge. "that’s it, baby. let go for me, come all over my fingers."

she leaned down to capture one of your nipples in her mouth, sucking and nibbling on it, lust basically consuming her. “mm, ‘s too much.” you whined, a new and different kind of knot building in your stomach. “feels like i have to pee, sar.”

she nodded, not breaking away from your nipples. "that’s totally normal, baby. you’re gonna squirt. don’t fight it, just let it happen." she increased her pace, finger-fucking you faster and harder, wanting to bring you over the edge, her thumb finding your clit.

with a loud cry of her name, you let go, the whole of your body trembling as you felt your orgasm rush over you, unfamiliar fluids gushing out of your cunt and dripping all over sarahs fingers and the sheets.

she could feel a wet slick pool on the palm of her hand as you rocked against her, riding out your intense high and trying to catch your breath, “holy shit.” a soft smile spread across her face, thumb still circling your clit, “look at that. you did so fucking amazing.”

"it felt really really good sar.. thank you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “it was all you, no need to thank me.” she chuckled before releasing her fingers, caressing your thighs in a comforting manner right after. it really wasn’t though. and something sinful inside you was screaming to let her feel just how thankful you were.

“would you mind if i make it up to you right now?”

this is my first time writing for girl x girl and i feel like this is so bad.. 😭 this has been rotting in my drafts since january btw..

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @rafecami @isasweetie @rafesheaven @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @littlelamy @sturn777 @luckycrys @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @bluemerakis @rafeysbangs @nemesyaaa

[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER ELEVEN

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks, implied past SA “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past."

THURSDAY APRIL 26TH 2024 MEXICO, 9000 HOURS

"You're fucking unbelievable."

You hop out of the back of the truck, boots hitting the grass with a thud as you continue down the hill towards the line of bodies further down below.  It hurts, sends shockwaves through your broken ribs, but you grit your teeth and bare it.  Simon's remark falls on stubborn ears as he strides after you, his hand barely catching the sleeve of your uniform before you yank your arm away and pick up your pace.  In the distance, thunder rumbles across the humid, dark sky—hot and foreboding.

"Angel, seriously," he calls again, jogging to catch up with you.  "You're gonna—"

"I can take care of myself."

"Your lung is punctured."

"It's not."

"It is," He raises his voice.  "Cut the bullshit and sit down."

You turn to face him, annoyed.

"I'm still walking, aren't I?"  You raise your hands before letting them fall back to your sides as your hoarse voice cuts over the sound of grass in the wind.  "I'm not gonna let those bodies just rot."

"They're bodies.  Dead ones."  He replies, stern.  "Doesn't matter what they look like---they'll get funerals either way."

His apathy towards his own dead subordinates makes your stomach twist in disgust.  What the hell?  Was he really that uncaring?  Did he not care about other people at all?  Had war really changed him that much?  Or was he always this way, and you just hadn't worked with him enough to see his true colors?

You talk through your teeth. "You're a sick bastard, Ghost."

"My concern is with those still walking, keeping my men alive."  He bites back.  "That includes you.”

"Are you that fucking dense?"  You snap back; voice raspy with the strain of being pinned beneath a rifle the night before.  It hurts to yell, but so does everything else.  "I'm the C.O., here.  Those are my men out there that I failed, and I'll be damned if they don't make it back to their families for proper funerals, Lieutenant."

"You're no good to them if you're fuckin' dead too, you know."

"The battle's over, Ghost.  We lost. It doesn't fucking matter what I am.”

Your statement strikes something in him; you know it does because there’s an underlying statement there.  About his absence, about what happened, about how he feels about you.

He hesitates as he stands there, expression tight with frustration, before he shakes his head.

"Of course it fucking matters what you are!"  he yells to you, padding through the grass after you again.  "Do you even hear yourself right now, love?”

Anger bubbles hot and deep with the pain in your chest.

"Stop."  The bite in your tone surprises even yourself as you point an accusing finger at him.  "Stop fucking calling me that.  You don't fucking get to call me that, and you don't get to worry."

Something that might be the closest thing to anger you've seen from him yet flits across his face as his shoulders tense.  You’ve argued before—about trivial things, really—at camp Viking.  But you’ve never seen him actually mad.

You figure it's harder to yell at him this way, when your biting comments reach an actual face instead of an armored mask.  Cold raindrops poke your shoulders and dot dark circles on Simon's shoulders.  

"You get to order me around," he says, voice still low.  Even now, he's still soft with you. "When you’re in the right state of mind.”

Anger flares deep and relentless in your gut.  Thunder rumbles across the desert, clouds dark and angry on the horizon as the rain begins to fall steadily. Your hands clench at your sides as your voice becomes a hiss.  The rain is freezing.  "So, what, my orders don't matter?"

He just stares at you, crooked nose scrunching in a scowl.  Stubborn, the bastard doesn't budge.  “No.”

You stomp up to him, finger in his face and fire in your veins.

"I didn't work myself into a fucking grave for this title," you hiss between your teeth.  "Just for you to appear out of the blue and handle me like I'm still your fragile little broken subordinate."

His gaze narrows down at you.  Damn him, because he's not at all phased by your attempt to reprimand him. 

"Don't sit there and act like this is just about ranks, Angel."

"Then what is this about?!"  You exclaim, voice cracking with emotion.  "Please, enlighten me!"

"You think I want to see you dead?  You think you've never once crossed my mind since I left?”  He retaliates.  “You think I can sit there and watch you kill yourself?”

"Bullshit!"

"I wish it was!"  He laughs bitterly, "I wish it fuckin' was, mate."

"Then how come you never said so?  How come you never acknowledged it?  Did it all—did Christmas day—mean nothing to you?”

“No!”

“Then why didn’t you fucking kiss me?!”

At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re saying.  You’re just desperate for a reaction, any reaction.  Desperate for any sort of answer or sign of emotion from him—a sign that he cared.  Your only goal being to sink your teeth as deep as you can into his flesh.  To get under his skin and make a home there like he did to you all those years ago.

And it works, because the Lieutenant actually flinches.

It’s barely perceivable. A twitch in his cheeks, the slight raising of his brows, his foot shifting to take a steadying step back.  He looks away and shakes his head, speechless.  Hurt, for once, because you’ve taken a weak spot and gone for the kill.  

The sound of the rain fills the silence, chilling your bones and spreading gooseflesh across sweaty skin.  Regret washes over you like a blistering hot tidal wave, realizing what you've said.  How unfair you’ve been.

You reach out, “Shit, Simon, I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” he holds a hand up and you stop in your tracks. 

You purse your lips and drop your hand to your side.  You take as deep of a breath in as your one working lung allows you and look away, lifting your face to the rain in hopes it’ll cool the burn of tears that threaten to spill.  

Simon lets out a defeated breath of his own and changes the subject.

“I’ll take over moving the bodies,” he says in that half-stern, half-soft way you remember.  “You head inside.  Fix yourself like I showed you, get dry, lay down, and stay there."

You swallow thickly, screwing your eyes shut tight.  You want to say more, want to apologize…want everything to go back to normal.  You want to run away and never face him again and you want to turn and hug him.  You have no idea which you want to do more, and even less so what he wants.  If he dreams of that same life you wanted with him; safe and free.  If he wants a house somewhere warm and far away, free from the military.  If he’s ever yearned for domesticality like you have.

You don’t think you’ve ever really known what he wants.

You let out another long breath and swallow heavily.  Turning to where his hand reaches out for you, you take it, and he guides your shaky legs back towards the truck.

“Okay,” you say, quiet and teary, as you lean your weight against him in defeat.  “Okay.”

[pepi1989]

Can you write about ben and clumsy girlfriend who ends up actually hurting herself bad? Maybe he’s a bit annoyed but concerned and anxious for her

Careful, Babe - Ben Shelton

It’s a running joke between Ben and me at this point, how I seem to have a talent for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, tripping over things that shouldn’t be tripped over, or bumping into furniture like it just appeared out of nowhere. I laugh it off most of the time, but Ben’s always there, rolling his eyes in that teasing way of his and calling me "a walking hazard."

But tonight… tonight’s different.

We’re at the court, just messing around. It’s late, so no one’s here, just the quiet sounds of our sneakers squeaking against the ground and the occasional ping of a tennis ball bouncing off the racket. It was meant to be fun, nothing serious, just the two of us blowing off some steam after a long day.

I sprint toward the net to grab a ball, and that’s when it happens. My foot catches on something, and before I can even react, I’m going down, hard. I barely have time to brace myself before I hit the ground, the pain sharp and immediate, radiating from my ankle and wrist as I crash to the hard surface.

I let out a yelp, not just from the pain, but from the sheer shock of it. Ben’s voice cuts through the haze, calling my name, but it’s distant, like my brain is still catching up with what just happened.

In an instant, he’s by my side, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “Babe… seriously?” His voice has that edge to it, like he’s annoyed but also trying to stay calm.

I wince, trying to sit up, but the pain in my ankle makes me gasp. “I didn’t mean to!” I say defensively, biting back tears. I wasn’t expecting it to hurt this much.

Ben’s hands are already on me, gently helping me sit up as he surveys the damage. His eyes land on my ankle, which is starting to swell, and his jaw tightens. “Shit.”

“I think I twisted it,” I mutter, my voice trembling. My wrist hurts too, but I’m more worried about the growing throbbing in my ankle.

Ben runs a hand through his hair, pacing for a second before kneeling back down in front of me. His initial frustration seems to melt away, replaced by a wave of anxiety that I can see in his eyes. “Okay, okay. Let’s get you up and to the car.”

He tries to be gentle as he helps me to my feet, but the moment I put weight on my ankle, pain shoots up my leg, and I nearly collapse again. Ben catches me, his arms steadying me before I can fall.

“Alright, no walking,” he says, sounding more serious now, his voice tight with worry. “I’ll carry you.”

I try to protest, embarrassed by the idea of being carried like some damsel in distress, but one look at Ben, and I know there’s no arguing with him right now. His face is set, determined, and that anxious crease between his brows tells me he’s not taking any chances.

Without another word, he lifts me up in his arms, effortlessly cradling me against his chest. It’s comforting, feeling how strong and steady he is compared to how fragile I feel right now. His steps are quick, but careful, as he carries me to the car, his expression still clouded with worry.

Once we’re in the car, Ben slides into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. He glances over at me every few seconds, like he’s checking to make sure I’m still okay. The silence between us is heavy, his frustration from earlier lingering in the air, but the concern in his eyes is overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, looking down at my throbbing ankle, feeling stupid for getting myself into this mess.

Ben shakes his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t have to apologize. I just… I hate seeing you hurt.” His voice cracks a little at the end, and it hits me how worried he really is.

“I’ll be okay,” I say softly, trying to reassure him, but even I’m not sure how true that is. My ankle looks bad like, probably-a-hospital-trip bad.

Ben doesn’t respond, his jaw clenched as he pulls into the hospital parking lot. He helps me out of the car, wrapping an arm around me to support my weight, and we make our way inside. The whole time, his eyes stay focused on me, even as we wait to be seen. His fingers tap anxiously against the chair, his knee bouncing restlessly.

When the doctor finally comes back with the X-rays, confirming a nasty sprain and a fractured wrist, I can feel Ben tense beside me. The doctor goes over the treatment plan, ice, rest, a brace for the wrist, and by the time we’re leaving, Ben’s practically vibrating with unspoken emotions.

Back at the hotel, after helping me settle into bed with my leg propped up and my wrist in a brace, he finally lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair again. “I hate this, you know?” he says, his voice low but laced with frustration. “I hate seeing you hurt and knowing I can’t do anything to fix it.”

I reach out with my good hand, grabbing his, pulling him closer. “You did fix it,” I say softly. “You got me here, you made sure I was okay. That’s all I needed.”

Ben sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing lightly over my cheek. “I just… I don’t know what I’d do if something worse happened. You’re too important to me.”

I smile, despite the ache in my body. “You’re stuck with me, hazard or not.”

His lips twitch into a small smile, though the worry doesn’t completely leave his eyes. “I’m okay with that,” he whispers, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead.

“I’ll be more careful,” I promise, though we both know that’s a lie.

“Yeah, sure you will,” he mutters with a laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Just… next time, try not to break anything, okay?”

I nod, my eyes fluttering closed as he lies down next to me, wrapping an arm around me carefully. The warmth of his body against mine is soothing, and for the first time tonight, I feel like I can finally relax.

“I’ll always take care of you, you know that?” Ben whispers, his breath warm against my skin.

“I know,” I murmur back, drifting off into sleep, the pain now distant and far away, replaced by the comforting presence of the boy who loves me, even if I’m a walking hazard.

[serinoodles]

Pulse; Off Key.

Where you get to fight the echo of a life you never lived.

Notes: Read on ao3. Warnings/Tags: f! reader.

Chapter 2: Odd.

''I think I miss someone'', I looked at him, my voice low and my face relaxed. He laughed taking a step back trying to hold back his anger because of my stupid talk. Weird? Yes weird..

He rubbed on is forehead, his gaze on the ground, then he sighed looking at me angrily.

''Are you listening to yourself? What bullshit. Have you forgotten about all the fights between you two? How many times you fought with him for trying to get closer to Jun-hee! And how many other times he got us into trouble and got you doing voluntary work for a whole week! Or have you forgotten about that one fight with Jun-hee because of him? Ha? Sorry?''

He scoffed, continuing, ''you apologized to him instead of pushing him?''

I took a shaky breath, my voice calm, ''if you think about it, saying sorry whenever you do a mistake is not weakness, also, I had a heart surgery not lost my memory''

''I feel like you lost your memory indeed''

''doesn't matter'', I moved my feet to walk away but I stopped once I noticed Myung-gi making his way out of the door, he gave me a look I won't forget my whole life, I felt like I was a piece of trash.

Does he think he won just because I said sorry? It's just a word!

He looked down at me in contempt, and like an idiot I ignored it and lowered my gaze, nervous. Dae-ho's jaw almost reached the floor, he was shocked to say the least.

He is right! I also shocked myself!

Myung-gi chuckled, the same look in his eyes, ''being away from work made you well-mannered, I accept your apology''. He lifted one eyebrow with a smirk on his face, my hands formed into a fist looking down. And with a provocative grin he walked away.

I looked at Dae-ho, lost, his disappointment was visible on his face.

''How do you feel now?''

''what?..'', my voice barely above a whisper.

''You apologized and he accepted your apology! Yuhoo! Best friends''. He clapped and I swear his hands almost flayed.

I let out a breath I was holding, ''I want to be alone for a bit'', I walked away with no destination.

Not my mind that tells me it's okei to apologize! I don't apologize!

~

I sat on a wooden bench in the park looking at the sky trying to relax. I smiled faintly feeling the spring breeze on my face. That's why I love spring. I closed my eyes trying to visualize cherry blossoms around me, I might be cranky and rude, of course except today or maybe this past week. But that doesn't take away my love for adorable things like cherry blossoms. I opened my eyes letting out an annoyed sigh, what's wrong with apologizing?

Here's my ego scolding me for apologizing.

But, please, let's be realistic.. When someone accidentally bumps into another person, they unconsciously apologize! But that's not who I am.. I usually get mad and told whoever bumped into me that they are a blind idiot.

Idiot.. Why did I apologize?

But.. Why did Myung-gi made it such a big deal? ridiculous! It wasn't even a worth-it incident.

Why did Dae-ho overreact? Yea I might have made a mistake for apologizing.. I shouldn't have done that.

Something sounds so wrong...I mean.. I made a mistake by apologizing?

What's wrong with me?!

My last thought came a bit loud, no actually really frustrated, I hit my temple with my palm then stood up making my way back to the station.

From a distance I could see Jun-hee making her way to the station as well, she noticed me as well and with quick steps she was standing in front of me at the door.

''Where were you, you're late for the meeting''

''Like you were on time?''

''He will kick us out won't he?'', she opened the door for us to make our way into the chiefs office.

I raised my shoulders not caring.

She made her way before me , ''can we-''

''Get out''

I sighed holding her wrist and closing the door of the office.

''What are we going to do now?'', she complained

''Go on a date?'', I suggested.

''Whoever gets last pays for ice-cream!'', she said already running.

''Hey! wait for me''

Sorry Jun-hee, I feel like a bad girlfriend.

~

''Would you stay with me even if I am going through the worst I have ever been?''

She smiled licking the ice-cream off of her lips.

''I will stay even if you hated me''

~

'even if you hated me'.. Her phrase kept echoing in my head for the whole walk home. I was walking with Dae-ho, he was talking much but the voices in my head were louder.

Jun-hee loves me a lot, I mean she would stay even if I hated her... There was never a day passing by without the thought of how lucky I am to be with her.

I am absolutely the luckiest, but there's something wrong. I can't drown in my feelings and let them drown me every time I see her.

I am scared... I will keep ignoring whatever is this feeling, but what if if it affected the way I treat her?

I mean, the change in my smile which Dae-ho noticed earlier this morning, even when we were on the ice-cream date, I felt trapped and suffocated like I was missing someone, Even though she was right by my side.

I feel guilty, I am the worst..

''so what do you think?''

I went back to reality and realized I might have gotten myself into a problem.

''think of what?''

''really, I have been talking for half an hour, haven't you understood a thing?''

''oh.. yea alright, awesome'', I ignored him running away from him, he looked confused then pissed off.

''You should rest!''

~

I was laying on my bed staring at the roof, suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I took my shirt off, I shut my eyes firmly breathing in and out, wishing for this feeling to go away, my eyes opened laying on my shirt. Black!

Why is my room so depressing? What are these posters on the wall! All black and grey..

Scary pictures, mazes and tortured laughing people, others with bruises all over them drowning in their blood laughing as well..!

Disturbing! Disturbing! Disturbing! Disturbing? Wasn't it me who hanged them on the wall?

This room is so unpleasant, it need renovation..

The ring of my phone made me jump, a new message.

Dae-ho: 'I am at the basketball arena, waiting for you'

I put my shirt on back and made my way downstairs, and grabbed my grey jacket.

''I am going out'', I said to my mom sitting in the living room while I was tying my shoe laces.

At the same moment my sister walked inside the house, ''Where ae you going?''

''bye, Young-mi''

I didn't wait for her reply and left, I could hear her voice, she said in surprise,

''Mom! I love my new sister''

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

Chapter X

It’s way too quiet as the sun shines on us during morning formation. Aurelie’s name was called through the rotunda a few minutes ago and I saw Violet whipping a stray tear away. Luca tensed, hearing the name of our fallen squad mate, knowing that I could have saved her if she hadn’t pushed me to the ground.

Aurelie’s scream and her broken body haunts me. Nightmare after nightmare. Sometimes it was Violet laying there, then it was Rhiannon, or Ridoc, or Sawyer. And then Aurelie again. I really hope it haunts Luca as well.

It made me realize how time works at Basgiath. Some of us have more, some of us less. And out of our group, Aurelie was the first one to meet Malek way to early. It makes me so incredibly sad, and angry, and devastated. And I fear for Violet. One short moment is enough – and she could be gone as well.

*Flashback*

Stunned and in utter disbelief, I look down where Aurelie’s broken body lays.

Aurelie, who was looking forward to the training and presentation. Aurelie, who was looking forward to Threshing and having her own dragon. Aurelie, who wanted to make her father and brother proud. Aurelie, who was always in a good mood and tried to help everyone of us as much as she could.

And now she is dead. Gone. Forever.

I slowly pick myself up, trying to hide the violent shaking, a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I can’t hear Violets scream, or Ridocs, or Trinas. Can’t hear Tynan’s nasty laugh.

The only thing I notice is Lucas’s heavy breathing behind, maybe still in disbelief too, to what she just did.

My body fills with anger, and pain, and pure rage.

Furious, I whip around, facing the blonde girl, who looks extremely terrified at the moment. Fear is radiating from her. I know how I must look like right now … dilated pupils, pitch black. A nasty snarl on my face, teeth bared. I think, I look like a feral animal, but can’t bring myself to care.

“Are you actually, totally fucking stupid?! I could have reached her. I could have FUCKING CATCHED HER FOR FUCKS SAKE! WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?!” I roar, struggling to form full sentences in my rage.

There is talking above us, but I don’t bother listening.

“SHE WAS OUR FUCKING SQUADMATE, YOU STUPID IDIOT!! WHY ARE YOU PULLING SUCH SHIT?!” My roar echoes from the mountains, pretty sure you can hear it in the college as well.

“I- she- you have to understand …” she stutters.

The rage is clouding my mind. Racing towards her, I grab her collar harshly, choking her in the process and pull her into my face. She claws at my hand, trying to get air into her lungs.

“You can be fucking happy I am not in a killing mood or else you would lay down there with her” I spit out. “Every bone broken, splattered on the gravel. If you ever do shit like this again, I will kill you myself, with my bare hands, slowly and painfully. Without any witnesses. Squad mates be damned, since you clearly didn’t care as well.”

With that, I let her go and push her away, turning on my heel and start finishing the course. After a few more minutes I finish successfully and reach the top. I immediately take Violets shaking form into my arms, comforting her.

*Flashback ends*

When morning formation ends, we get ready to go to our classes, but Dain stops us.

“Okay … I know we lost one of us yesterday and that some of you were close with her, but this tension is almost suffocating. What the fuck happened, that everyone acts like scared chickens?” he asks us, brows furrowed, clearly frustrated with the behavior of his squad.

I notice that almost everyone in Fourth Wing is lingering, trying to catch some gossip. Our wingleader and his minions too. My friends look around anxiously, but no one says anything. Violet shifts on her feet while Ridoc and Sawyer share awkward glances, the second and third years looking just as confused as Dain, having no clue what happened yesterday. Seems like no one said anything after yesterday’s actions.

The moment Tynan lay his eyes on my tense form, Dain looks at his face and follows his line of sight, sighing deeply when he finds me.

Oh, I dare him to blame anything on me. I’ll actually tear him a new one, if he starts shit with me now.

Raising a brow, he asks “What did you do?”

When my heated glare finds his eyes, he flinches visibly. Good, don’t even try asshole. I am in the mood to punch someone, even if it’s my squad leader. I am sure, Xaden wouldn’t stop me.

Rhiannon clears her throat, gaining the attention of the others. “Well, Aurelie’s fall was an accident” Violet turns her head to the side “but … Arya could have caught her.”

I feel the eyes of more than one hundred cadets on me and it annoys me. Knowing what everyone thinks, I just take a deep breath, mentally preparing for what’s to come.

Imogen lifts an eyebrow. “And why haven’t you?”

My eyes find hers. “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask the annoying blonde next to you.”

Said girl looks up and flinches terrified when she looks at me, letting out a high-pitched squeak.

“Luca? What did you do?” Heaton is the one asking her, intrigued to where the conversation will lead. She mumbles to herself.

“Talk!” I order her loudly, making her and some of the other cadet’s flinch, again.

“I slammed Arya to the ground, so she couldn’t reach her” she says louder. “But then she attacked me!” Luca accuses me.

A sarcastic laugh finds its way out. “You deserve so much worse” I hiss. “Wait” a second year from Tail Section speaks up, “that was you yesterday? The roaring that echoed from the cliffside?!” she asks. I nod.

“Yes, and she choked me” Luca whines.

“Hardly, you don’t even have any bruises, so quit whining like a soon to be slaughtered pig.” I don’t even try to hide the annoyance in my tone. She has no idea what choking feels like. When you try to fight for your life, while someone wants to kill you with their bare hands.

“You threatened to kill me as revenge!”

I scoff. “Revenge is beneath me” pausing, a murderous glint finds its way into my eyes “but … accidents happen.” Gulping hard, she turns to our squad leader for help.

“Okay enough! We can’t change that Aurelie is dead. But you won’t kill your squad mates. That’s against the Codex.” Of fucking course. Chuckling fills the rotunda, most of the cadets amused by his statement.

“In my defense, my dearest squad leader, I simply do not vibe with the Codex.” I spit out. He really has the audacity to look offended.

Someone chokes out a laugh on my right side. My eyes find the gorgeous brown ones of Bodhi and I can see the amusement in them. And … a proud glint?

Next to him stands his cousin. He looks like he has no idea if he should laugh or glare at me, it’s kind of a mix. Garrick Tavis, our section leader, stands on Xadens other side and he doesn’t bother to hide his amusement.

With that I turn around and make my way to Battle Brief.

[crownmemes]

Ill & Injured Sentences, Vol. 1

(Sentences for muses that don't feel so great, and for muses trying to take care of another. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Calm down, alright? I know you're hurting, and I know things are confusing, but getting angry with me is not the answer!"

"Why don't you just take the afternoon off if you feel that bad?"

"I got shot once and I didn't much care for it."

"There's really no need to help! I can take care of everything myself!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout. I just... I get frustrated sometimes."

"I'm a dead man walking."

"Do I look ill to you?"

"I won't have a doctor telling me what's what!"

"Shouldn't you be in hospital?"

"You're in shock; this is not the time to be making big decisions!"

"The doctor told me not to come in today but I said that I'd rather get straight back on the horse."

"I can't understand what you're going through, but I can be here for you."

"Please, I just want to help you."

"I'm tired of people looking at me the way that you're looking at me right now."

"Remember, it's okay to ask for help when you need it."

"Please, take care of yourself."

"I'm alive for now but as good as dead."

"You're not doing anyone any good in this condition."

"People tell me I've said things and I don't remember saying them."

"You're not alone in this, even when it feels that way."

"Oh my god! What happened to you?"

"You're lucky to be alive! Actually, according to your medical chart, you barely are!"

"Are you okay? Have you got a headache again?"

"You've got a head injury. You need to go to the hospital."

"You're not going to recover unless you get some sleep!"

"How's your head?"

"People are starting to worry about you, you know that?"

"Come on, it's not that bad. I've cut myself worse while shaving!"

"Boredom is far more dangerous to my health than any fever."

"I hate hospitals. They make me feel ill. It's the smell."

"I know it's hard, and it's okay to feel frustrated."

"They say that a needle pushing through damaged flesh is as painful as being run through with a sword, and you need 12, maybe 13, stitches."

"Why me? What did I do to deserve this?"

"That's some ugly bruising on your arm..."

[delulu-with-wandanat]

ayo i have a request! platonic mob boss!natasha and single mother female reader! nat is a mob boss who is known to be heartless and merciless. reader is struggling financially and decides to take a loan from nat’s mob, which she can’t pay back. she’s taken by nat’s men and beaten, but then when nat sees reader out of place among the drug dealers and crackheads, she takes pity on reader, forgives her debt and protects her, as well as helping reader out financially. kinda like older sister protective vibes

THANK YOU I love all your writing!!

Alternative Proposition-

A/n: Awww thank you! I'm sorry this took a while, life finally catch up on me and I'm find myself writing less and less. I never actually dipped into mob au's beforee so, sorry if anything is out of place. I'm actually a little scared of posting this ngl- :')) I try to not give the daughter a name, only like a nickname so you can decide it for yourself. Anywayy, I hope you like it!!

Reader Description: She/her, single mother, mid 20s.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Platonic), Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff (Romantic).

Warnings 18+: Mature themes, mentions of drugs, violence, crimes, (idk what else i need to put tbh), threat, use of guns.

Summary: Struggling to take care her 5 year old daughter, Y/n took out a loan from the mob to start a small business in hopes that it would resolve their financial struggles. But small businesses takes time to flourish, which Y/n doesn't have and ends up biting her in the ass... or did it?

PUNCH!

Right on the stomach. The man tugged her from behind so she would stand up straight.

TWACK!

Christ, her nose was probably broken now. Perhaps she should've known better than to follow her friend's advice.

"Fucking bankers..." Y/n said out of frustration. Her appeal to take out a loan was rejected once again. At this rate she might have to finally settle for just working double time and barely making ends meet for her and her daughter. Suddenly, she hears her neighbor next door arguing and smashing god knows what.

For fuck sakes, again?

Gun shots can be heard from out the window, a few minutes later a police sirens follow through. The neighbor above blasting music and making noises on what could only be... something.

Her heart ached as he mind raced to the 5 year old sleeping in her room. No, she deserves a better life, a better living condition, a better future. She has to find a way, there has to be. The front door flew open and her friend walked in with a dopey smile.

"You look like you could use a happy sniff!" Y/n only rolled her eyes at her friend.

"I'm way past that, and you know it. Besides, those things are bad for you." Y/n responded without even looking.

Her friend plopped down beside her on the couch with an exaggerate groan. "You've gotten so boring since she was born. We used to have so much fun, no?"

"Grown out of it," She looks at her friend. "So should you."

Kate then rested her head on Y/n's shoulder, looking over her notes. "Bank denied you again?" She said almost mockingly with a pout.

"It's so stupid. I just need some cash to start this business, I did the numbers and the market is huge! Yet, none of them are willing to even listen at all..."

Kate then repositions herself to rest her head on the arms of the sofa. "You're asking the wronggg people." She giggled. Clearly high on drugs.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know someone who could help you. Actually... I know someone who KNOWS someone. No questions asked, just gotta pay them back on time."

"No questions asked? Sorry, Kate, but that sounds really shady." Y/n is too tired to even listen to her.

"Give it a tryyyy. You're confident about your business?" Y/n nodded. "What's the worst that could happen?" Kate concluded. Perhaps she was right, that what it takes to start a successful business no? Take a risk-

TWACK!

Famous last words. She did in fact took out a pretty huge loan, and promised to pay once a month with interest. Very high interest. Even though Kate was right, they asked no question whatsoever, the risk was also extremely deadly-

SMACK!

-right on the jaw this time. "I was late, I'm sorry. Please I promise I will-"

TWACK!

"We've heard that excuse many times before." The man said with a thick Slavic accent. He grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged it harshly so she would face her. "And when you take out a money that big, the boss doesn't play around."

TWACK!

"Please..." The poor woman pleaded. "I swear-"

"Swear on your life? That is what we will take." Instead of a punch, the platinum haired man pulled out a gun, Y/n felt her stomach dropped the moment he pointed the gun to her head.

"Wait, wait!"

"Hold." She heard the other man who was holding her from behind spoke. "We're needed elsewhere."

"Now??"

"Just put the rat back in her cell, we'll deal with her and the rest later."

The blonde man hesitated for a few second before putting away his gun. He bent his body to her eye level and spoke, "You are one lucky son of a bitch."

Y/n was put back in the filthy place. Among with all the other hostages they have taken and beaten. She grunts at every single move she makes, every part of her body was extremely sore with the amount of punching she had endured.

The warehouse was dark, there was only one source of light, it was now probably almost midnight, fuck she needs to get home. She asked Kate to babysit her daughter, which was probably not the best course of action as Kate was quite a heavy drug user. But fuck she didn't have anyone to go to.

Kate will take care of her right? Well, she was... She wasn't addicted, but- Oh fuck her mind is running a mile minute.

She doesn't know how long time has passed as all she could think about was her daughter. Her sweet little bug. "Be safe, please, please be safe."

Oh god, what if Kate uses drugs in front of her? Come on, Kate was the one helping Y/n throughout the pregnancy, she would be more mature than that. Then again drug addicts are selfish- No, Kate is not like that. Kate adores Y/n's daughter, even going as far as supporting this business so the little bug would have a better future.

But what if Kate-

Y/n perked up at the sound of a door opening. Heavy sets of footsteps could be heard walking in her direction. "Cut the crackheads fingers as a warning, that oughta teach them." Y/n shivers at the woman's command. "Their debt remains, any late payments will be paid by their hand."

"What about the dealer?" Her men asked.

"Kill him, he went against our terms and conditions. Make him suffer." Y/n heard a unanimous 'Understood.' This woman definitely held a high power among all of them.

"And Stark's men?" Another one of her soldier asked. There was a beat of silence as the woman weighted her decision.

"Send him our... parcel. He'll understand." Whatever it is, Y/n is sure it's not what is implied.

She heard a few cells opening, some of the hostages cried and plead for their life. "I have nothing to do with this!" The man screamed. "It was Mr. Stark's order-"

"Stark and I, despite our rivalry, have mutual respect with each other." The powerful boss spoke again. "Though I won't be surprised if the orders did in fact came from him."

"Please..." The hostage started crying. "Please, I- I have kids-"

"And a wife?"

"Y-yes."

"Good. At least there's someone to take care of them." Fuck this woman is a sadist.

The poor man continued to thrash and screamed, yet he was no match in his condition and the strength of his taker. His screaming gradually disappears as they take him god knows where. And finally, the woman came into view as she stood just outside of her cell.

Y/n had pushed herself into a corner, hugging herself, knowing she would be next. And from what she has heard, there was no way of convincing a woman who holds such power and fear. Reality dawned on her that she had failed her daughter, her sweet 5 year old bundle of joy.

I'm sorry, bug...

The red headed woman studied the hostage before her. Seems like her men had taken her after she had finished her shift, Y/n was still wearing her waitress uniform.

"It's the one that took out the big loan." Another woman with blonde hair told the boss. Y/n notes she has a thick Russian accent.

"And?"

"She claims the purpose was to start a food and beverage business. Late payments, but I doubt the business even took place. I haven't seen or heard any new establishment in the area." The blonde woman explained.

The boss narrows her eyes. Y/n refused to speak or even look at them in the eye. As the red headed women was about to decide her fate, they heard a phone ring. Y/n's head turned to the source of the ringtone, it was her phone. "Shut that phone." She told her men.

"No wait!" All eyes turned to Y/n as the hostage finally spoke for the first time. "Please, that's mine. It might have something to do with my daughter..."

The goons gave the boss Y/n's phone. The woman looked at the caller id, "Kate."

"That's my friend, she's babysitting her. I just need to know if she's alright." The blonde and red haired woman shared a look, they've seen this before. Last act of desperation to seek help.

Finally, the boss bent down to her level beckoning Y/n to get closer from her position. Y/n hesitantly crawled closer so she was able to speak to the phone. Before the boss answered the phone, she looked at Y/n dead in the eye. "Any attempts, I will track this caller id. Understood?"

The boss didn't have to elaborate further, Y/n nodded while shivering in fear. The woman then accepted the call, and put it on speaker. "Mama??" A little girl's voice could be heard.

"Hey there, bug!" Y/n responded with fake enthusiasm. It was very convincing, even an adult wouldn't notice anything. "What are you doing up so late huh?"

"I'm waiting for you! You promised me movie night." The little girl said sadly.

"Awww, I know bug. Something came up at work, and I needed to work extra hours. But how about this, I'll make it up to you and we'll go somewhere special on your birthday, how does that sound?" Y/n spoke, her heart aching as she was making fake promises to her daughter. After all, the mob would most likely take her life.

"Yey!!! Aunty Kate, did you hear that?" It seems like the little girl was so happy at the idea. Y/n can imagine her daughter running to Kate in their tiny apartment excitedly to tell her the news. She then heard Kate responding as excitedly to the little girl. This is her chance.

No. She can't put her friend in danger. Even though that idiot gave her the stupid idea- No, I made the decision.

"Kate, it's already midnight. Can you make sure she sleeps please?"

"Aww, it's weekend! I'm sure she can stay up once a while with her aunty." Kate responded over the phone.

"I gotta go." Y/n said after noticing some of the goons growing impatient. "And Kate..."

There was a beat of silence, would she do it?

"Please remember to restraint yourself." Kate could be heard signing on the other side of the phone.

"You know I would never do that in front of bug. I promise, I'll take care of her. Just come home safe ok?" Kate understood Y/n's fear. And Kate knew better than to use drugs around children's proximity. In fact, she wasn't using the addictive substance as much as she used to... Only when she party that is-

"Of course. See you." The red haired woman then ended the call. She wasn't going to lie, she was quite impressed at this hostage. Perhaps this girl was something else...

-

Natasha came home way past midnight, it wasn't unusual for her of course. Though she does sometimes wishes to leave the crime life completely. Well, sometimes was an understatement, she wants to leave the crime life and focus on her own family. However, her sister was far from ready and there were numerous business she had to resolve first.

Then again, perhaps that was just an excuse. The cycle would never end. There's always something coming up, and she was the one the city held respect and fear for. By the end of the day, Natasha wasn't even sure if this life would leave her completely.

It was tied to her like an anchor.

She sighed and walked over to the master bedroom quitely. When she opens the door, she found her wife already fast asleep. She made her way to the bathroom, changed her clothes into something far more comfortable. She opted to skip her nighttime routine, and walked out of the bathroom.

Her wife had moved in her sleep, and it seems like she is awake. A small smile appeared on Natasha's face. "I didn't mean to wake you up." The mob boss said apologetically.

"The Americans would say, old habit dies hard." Wanda responded with a sleepy smile. Natasha soon joined her on the bed, giving her wife a loving kiss on her lips, and the slope of her nose. Despite being married for a couple of years, it warms Wanda's heart at Natasha's actions.

For someone who have gained the reputation of being merciless, she was so gentle on the people she loves.

"Everything alright, darling?" Wanda asked, she knew there was always something in this line of business. But really, what else was she supposed to ask?

"Same old, same old." Natasha answered as she settles on the bed next to her. Wanda then nuzzles onto Natasha like she always does every single night. "I'm getting too old for this."

Wanda chuckles, "Well, Yelena is next in line."

"Oh please, she her patience is as thin as a baby hair. She wouldn't last a 30 minute meeting." Natasha then starts to rub small circles on Wanda's back. "And you?"

"Just the usual, took the boys to school. They're already asking me if they could get their own car now that they're in middle school." Natasha let out a small chuckle.

"I hope they know they have save up their own money for that."

"I doubt it." The two women shared a laugh and fell into a comfortable silent. It was nights like these that Natasha adored. She may ruled the city, and had resources the average person can't imagine, but all she wanted was simple nights in the arms of the woman she loves.

Crazy to think how they met each other, all those years ago. When Natasha was only a second in command and Melina was ruling the mob, and Wanda was just a single mother trying to get by. Just like-

"Your thoughts are loud, detka." Wanda said, her wife truly knows her inside and out. "Care to share?"

Natasha lets out a sigh before continuing, "There was this girl, probably in her mid 20s." Wanda stayed silent, listening to her wife. "She reminds me of you..."

Wanda pulled away slowly to look at Natasha in the eye, "Natalia... If this is your way of asking us to open our marriage-"

"Excuse me, how did you even come to that conclusion?" God no, Natasha never even had that thought.

"Well when you start with that kind of sentence..." Natasha only rolled her eyes and pulled Wanda back into her arms.

"No, It's not that." She sighed, trying to find the right words. "I'm just..." She trails off once again. Wanda waited patiently for her wife to form her words, except Natasha ended up letting out a soft chuckle. "I think I'm just getting too old and too soft for this."

Wanda made herself more comfortable on Natasha's chest, listening to her heartbeat. Something she finds rather comforting. "You kept your heart. That is something I love the most about you." She shifted slightly so she could look at her wife in the eye. "But moreover I think that is something Melina would be so proud of..."

Natasha's heart warmed at Wanda's words. She pulled Wanda into a soft kiss, pouring the immense love she had for the woman before her. Natasha's hand gently cupped her wife's face, she held her ever so carefully as if Wanda was the most precious and delicate flower to ever exist.

--

Y/n waited, and waited.

She glanced at the clock, and then back to the front door. Still no one...

She heard a groan from Kate and looked at her friend/co-worker now. "Where are all the people..." She whined as she waited at one of the empty seats.

"It's ok. There's time like these, we just have to be patient." Y/n responded optimistically, even though deep inside she was screaming. The restaurant barely made enough to be self-sufficient. Despite it being small, and having herself as the staff with the occasional help of Kate, all of the profit had gone to running the business.

Moreover, she has to pay back the mob.

Fuck... "Kate, what day is it?"

Kate quickly checked her phone, "Friday. Why??"

Shit... shit, shit, shit. Her next payment was due tonight. She opened the register to check on the cash she had separated to make the payments. Y/n hastily re-counted the money and found that she was still $1000 short, "Fuck-"

"What's wrong?" Kate asked upon noticing her friend's frustration.

"Nothing..." Y/n sighed, no point in panicking now. She rubbed her temple and started giggling out of the immense frustration she was in. "Out of curiosity, is there a way to make $1000 in less than 6 hours?"

"We could always turn to crime."

"Few years ago I would've agreed, but I have a daughter to take care of." Calming herself down, she puts the money back and closed the cashier. "I need to pick up bug soon, you think you can manage on your own?"

"Don't underestimate me..." Y/n only gave Kate a look as she walks towards the cashier, "I will man the fort."

Y/n merely chuckles and took her bag, she gave Kate a quick hug. She has been such a great help, the definition of true friends lie on none other than Kate Bishop. "Thank you, I'll be quick!" Y/n said as she made her way out of the restaurant.

--

"-And I made a new friends!" The little one said as she held her mother's hand on the way to the shop.

"That's wonderful, bug!" Y/n responded as enthusiastically. Relief that her daughter was doing well on her first day of elementary school, not that she ever doubted her daughter's capability. In contrast to Y/n, her daughter was much more outgoing than she was when Y/n was younger.

"Maybe I can invite them to the restaurant!" Y/n chuckles at her statement.

"Well you know what? Tell them I will give their family a VIP service." The little bug scrunch up her nose in confusion, she look up to her mother.

"What's a VIP??" She asks, just before they entered the shop. Y/n bent down to her level with an adoring smile.

"VIP means, 'Very-Important-Person'. And because they're your friends. They're important, don't you think so?" The little girl nodded her head as her mother explained, "Meaning they'll get special treatments."

It was like a lightbulb switched on inside the little one's head. "Oh! I get it!!"

"My brightest star." Y/n said while ruffling her head, "Come on, let's head inside. Aunty Kate might need some back up."

The two entered the shop to find Kate talking to a customer. Oh thank god. Their back was facing Y/n, once Kate noticed Y/n she perked up. "Oh! Y/n, you're just in time. This is our owner, and the mastermind behind all these amazing dish!" Well, gotta give the enthusiasm to Kate.

The customer turned around and Y/n felt chills down her spine.

"So I see." The same powerful woman spoke. Y/n tensed up, but the little hand she was still holding kept her grounded. "Y/n, was it?"

"Y-yes." She cleared her throat. No, nononono, the payment was still in a few hours. Well, she was still short a $1000. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

The redhaired woman shifter her eyes downward to look at Y/n's daughter. "And who might you be?" She asked the little girl kindly. Was it genuine? Y/n doesn't even know.

"My mom and aunty calls me bug!" The girl said excitedly. "I like your hair."

The mob boss laughed, "Thank you! I like your little braid. Did your mother did that for you?" Oh well, she's surprisingly good with kids?? Such a stark contrast to the one Y/n met at the warehouse-

"Yeah!" The little girl giggled.

"I'm having trouble choosing something to eat. Since I have the owner and I'm assuming the chef, perhaps you could recommend me something?" The woman asked.

Y/n snapped back to reality, "U-uh, well... Our uhm the-" Speak, SPEAK, why am I so-

"Oh, oh!" Her daughter excitedly ran up to the dangerous boss, she went on her tiptoes to take the menu off the counter. "You should get this one! It's my favorite and my mom makes it the best."

"I will take your word for it." The woman said with a kind smile, she turns to Kate. "I'll take the recommendation from this little one. I'll sit in that corner."

"We'll be right with you, ma'am!" Kate said, obviously oblivious to who this woman is.

Fuck.

--

Y/n hand shook as she plated the food for the mafia boss, Kate noticed it and giggles. She clearly doesn't realize how bad the situation is.

"Hey relax, boss." She nudges her friend, Y/n only let out a nervous chuckle. "Alright, I'll take it from here." As Kate was about to take the plate to serve, Y/n stopped her.

"I got it, why don't you go stand by the cashier in case any more customers comes in." Thankfully for Y/n, Kate agreed and went back to her station. As much as she would like to avoid the mob boss at any cost, she doesn't want Kate to be involved further.

Y/n walks towards the table with food in hand, the woman was sitting by the corner looking out the window. Heart stammering in her chest as fear and anxiety tried to take over her body, what did this woman want?

"Your food, ma'am." Y/n sets the plate with shaky hands.

"Oh, thank you. It looks delicious." The redhead said turning to face Y/n with a smile. Just as Y/n was about to leave, the lady stopped her. "Hold on just a minute, I wouldn't mind the company of the owner herself. Take a seat." It sounded more like a demand than a request.

Y/n took a deep breath and sat across from her. The woman took a sip of her drink, still looking out the window. Maybe I should've poisoned her food or something-

"I believe I haven't introduced myself." The woman's voice took Y/n out of her trance. She looked up to see her staring back at her. "Natasha, pleasure to meet you under... better circumstances." Natasha offered her hand to shake.

Y/n reached out, hand still visibly shaking a little as she shook her hand. "Y/n, although I'm sure you knew that already."

Natasha only nod, she then picked up a fork and a knife and started eating her food. After the first bite, she lets out a soft laugh. "Your daughter wasn't lying when she said this was the best."

Y/n could only force a smile as multitude of things ran in her head. Was she here to execute her? Did she know that Y/n was still a few dollars short? Was this a genuine interest in her food or was she here for business?

"How's business so far?" There it is.

Y/n sighed and looked around at the empty restaurant. "We've had better days."

Natasha only raised an eyebrow as she continues eating her food. "So I see."

There was a few minutes of silence as Y/n waited for Natasha to speak further, however, it seems like the other woman was just simply enjoying her food.

"I have to say I am incredibly impressed with your cooking." She said as she wiped her lip with a napkin and set aside her cutleries.

"Thank you, I learned it from my mother."

Natasha nodded and fixed her posture as she set the plate to the side to rest her hand on the table. "I'm sure you know why I'm here. It's strictly business." Y/n took a deep breath, but before she could say anything Natasha cuts her off. "Although, seeing the state of your establishment, I'm assuming It's barely making anything to run itself."

"I- I promise you I can-" Y/n stammered.

"Oh don't make promises you can't keep, Y/n."

"This month's payment might be a lower but I swear it just takes-"

"I've thought so." Oh god, what has she gotten herself into. Her chest started to feel heavy, something felt like it was stuck on her throat. Y/n couldn't utter a single word. She was a dead woman...

"Which is why I would like to offer you an alternative proposition." Natasha as she leans back against the chair. Y/n who was still in the state of fear only looked at her. "I would like to turn your debts into an investment."

...I'm sorry, "W-what?"

"I would like to invest in your business instead, I see great potential. It should help lighten the burden." Whoa, what??

"I- What's the catch?" Natasha only laughs, not one of those evil laughs, just... laughed.

"I get 20% share of your profit, but to say that's a catch would be misleading as that is just the nature of investment."

Y/n thought for a moment, this wasn't so bad. No, actually it was great. Instead of having debts, she only need to pay Natasha a share of the profit that the restaurant made.

"That's... a very generous offer, Natasha. Thank you. Although, may I negotiate?" Natasha smirked slightly at the sentence and nodded, she liked this girl. Normally people would take the offer without any hesitation, so to have someone negotiates back was refreshing. "I think 20% is too high, how bout 10%?"

"Hmmm, that's too low for me. How about you and I meet in the middle, 15%?" Y/n nod and Natasha had a satisfied smile on her face. This time, it was Y/n who reached out her hand.

"We have a deal."

--

To say the mob boss was being generous was an understatement, but Y/n wasn't going to ask questions. It helped elevated the financial burden a little, as she did not have to pay a fixed price every month. If the business soars Natasha gets a good cut of the revenue, it it fails, well they fall together.

What's weird was Y/n had expected for there to be a catch, maybe even have Natasha suddenly barging in and run the business however she likes. Or making some sort of speakeasy underneath her restaurant, or anything crime related really. But she never did, in fact, Natasha became a regular at the restaurant. She comes by once or twice every week, one time she even comes with a lovely lady who Y/n quickly learned was her wife.

Natasha's wife, Wanda, was a truly lovely lady. Overtime, Wanda stops by more often on her own. Although truth to be told, Y/n had a feeling they adored her daughter the most as bug truly was the ray of sunshine in the restaurant.

Doorbell chimes through the restaurant, the little bug excitedly dings the bell on the cashier counter top informing the kitchen of an incoming order.

"Ms. Wanda's specials!" The little girl said loudly, causing Wanda to giggle slightly at the scene. Y/n comes out of the kitchen door to greet her as she was in the middle of cleaning up.

"Wanda, good to see you again! Your usual?"

Wanda smiled and nodded. "For me, as always. Another one of the same for my wife, and 2 dish of your recommendation for my boys please."

"Anything in particular?" Y/n asked.

Wanda hummed for a moment, before glancing at Y/n's daughter who's practically bouncing on her little feet to make the decision for her. She then smiles and said, "I'll let the little chef surprise me."

Bug beamed upon hearing her sentence, Y/n smiled at her daughter and gave her an encouraging nod. She pulled down her mother to her level and whispered her recommendation. Y/n then pulled away and playfully gave her a salute, "Right on it, chef!"

As Y/n was walking back to the kitchen she heard her daughter yelling, "And be quick, it's for our VIP!"

She was glad her daughter seems to make the restaurant her own little playground, most of the costumers adored her too whenever bug was around. She wishes that her daughter could go out more often and wasn't forced to be stuck in the restaurant as much as she is now.

As time goes by the restaurant started to gain more and more exposures around the neighborhood and Kate has been a big help through it all. Arguably it was good for her too, as she used her spare time to work instead of partying and doing drugs.

Many more months have passed, and their popularity continues to rise and rise to the point where Y/n NEEDED to hire a cook helper and a waitress. She was grateful to say the least, but she wonders if the mob boss had something to do with it.

Y/n noticed that she had seen one of the customers being the one that kidnapped her, she was terrified for a minute only for the same platinum haired man to apologize and leave her with a huge, and I mean HUGE tip. She found out that his name was Pietro and he was surprisingly a funny, cocky, yet quite the gentleman.

The other one was the blonde woman that stood next to Natasha. However, at that time she was rather busy in the kitchen so Kate was the one who interacted with her the most. She didn't learn much about the blonde woman, only that her name was Yelena and that Kate seems to have a big crush on her.

She starts to wonder if half of her customers were affiliated with Natasha's mob. There were times when Natasha came by with a group of people, was it for a business meeting or whatnot she doesn't know. She doesn't even want to know. One thing for sure, Y/n's perception of Natasha changed. The initial impression of Natasha being a cold, heartless, merciless woman was gone, it turns out Natasha has a heart of gold.

From spreading the word about her restaurant, to giving huge tips every time she eats, refusing on-the-house meals and paying more than what her bill stated. To even, at least to Y/n's assumption, keeping the area of her restaurant safe. It wasn't confirmed by any means, but Y/n had a gut feeling Natasha had something to do with it.

--

All in all, business was great and was making enough for her to profit from it as well. She can now take her daughter out occasionally and not having to worry about starving herself in process.

Today was rather slow than usual, thank god...

She probably shouldn't as a business owner, but damn girl needs a room to breathe sometimes. Calm before the storm they said, and Y/n was going to use it to her advantage and catch up on her book as she waits for the next customer.

A good few minutes into her book, the door bell rings. Y/n looks up and put on her smile at the customer. Kate called in sick today and their waitress was having a day off, so Y/n had to cover both for both. "Welcome! What can I do for you on this fine day?"

"Hi there." The woman with a black hair said with a kind smile. "I heard this was the new hotspot in town. What would you recommend me?"

"Well that depends, are we looking for somethings sweet or savory?"

"Hmmm...." The woman scanned the menu quickly. Finally she looked up and said, "I'm feeling adventurous, surprise me."

Y/n smiled, "Take a seat anywhere you like, I'll be right with you." The customer thanked her and sat by the corner. From the corner of her eye, she could she the woman seems to be observing the restaurant. It wasn't weird by any means, maybe she's just one of those food bloggers.

Nah, she's dressed so formal to be a food blogger. Oh, shit... is that a food critique? We'll let's impress her.

After a few minutes, Y/n goes to her table. "This is one of our favorites." She said as she set the plate on the table, "And this is a complimentary drink, it's on the house."

"That's very kind of you." The black haired woman said. "Say how long has this place been established?"

"Oh we've just opened a couple of months ago."

"The owner certainly has an exquisite design taste." Y/n smiled at the compliment.

"Thank you! It was highly inspired by my heritage." The woman raised her eyebrow.

"I take it you are the owner?" Y/n nodded. "Wow! Congratulations on your business! The food looks amazing, please, would you mind joining me? I would love to listen more to your stories."

"Certainly!" Y/n took a seat in front of her, she was used to this, sitting and talking to different customers. It helps build relationship and making them a regular. "Are you new around this area?"

The woman chuckles, "No, I know this city like the back of my hand. My name is Maria Hill, pleasure to meet you." Maria offered her hand to shake.

"Likewise, I'm Y/n." The two shook hands and Maria leaned back on her seat.

"I'm guessing you're not originally from here?"

"No, my family and I migrated to the US when I was younger." Maria hummed again as she stared Y/n down, honestly Y/n was feeling rather uncomfortable. It was like she was... observing her, maybe even assessing her?

One thing for sure, Y/n was starting to get really bad vibes.

Maria suddenly let's out a small laugh, "Perhaps I should be more frontal." She fixed her posture and leaned her elbows on the table. "I was going to ask you sooner or later."

Oh god, what is it? Am I getting deported??

"Are you aware of an individual named Natalia Alianovna Romanova?"

Y/n twisted her head in confusion. "No, that doesn't seem to ring a bell."

"What about Natasha Romanoff?" The woman continued to prod. Well, she only knows one Natasha, she's a-

"I'm sorry, I just-" Y/n was confused, "What is this all about? Are you a health inspector or an immigration officer because-"

Maria raised her hand to stop Y/n, "No, neither of those." Y/n raised an eyebrow. "I'm an FBI agent."

Oh...

"I've been investigating an organized crime for the past few years."

Oh, fuck.

"You're not in trouble, Y/n. I merely require your assistance."

This isn't fucking calm before the storm-

"So are you or are you not," Maria took out a picture, a photograph of Natasha walking out of HER restaurant. "acquainted with this individual."

This is calm before a fucking typhoon. And she is in the middle of it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for not taking my cat with me when I eventually move?

For some context, I(f,22) live in an apartment that connects to the house of my parents through the garden and the basement. I have lived here since I was 17, pay rent, utilities and all my groceries so I basically live alone, just that I can visit my family basically whenever. Our family has a small dog and 3 cats, all of the animals can move freely through the entire house and also go outside if they want (I know outside cats are a problem, it was not my decision nor can I change the situation bc these are not only my cats).

My boyfriend (m,23) and me are planning on moving out next year-ish and I was not planning on taking the cat that is technically mine. She was adopted from a farm when I was around 16, I was really depressed, self-harming, had an ed blah blah, so my mom actually agreed that I could get a kitten. My cat has helped me immensely through really tough times but she is a little bit... wild. When she wants to play she can bite and scratch quite hard, she scares the other cats and the dog and sometimes pees on rugs and other stuff. She is also an absolute sweetheart and super cuddly and funny, I have zero problems with her behaviors myself because I know when she is getting frustrated I have to give her some space, I never scream at her when she does accidentally hurt me while playing, she never pees in my apartment, I only scold her when she attacks the other cats (she only wants to play but the other cats are older and dont want to). I feel like if I write it down like that she does sound kind of like a nightmare but bad incidents happen very rarely and she has gotten a lot calmer with her age. So the problem is now that my mom wants me to take her with me when I move, which I would totally get if she wouldn't have said the exact opposite before. My mom always said that I shouldn't take my cat with me when I move because she needs to stay in her home, she has got the other cats (even tho they don't really like each other but sometimes they hang out or play), the garden and a forest, a really quiet neighborhood with no cars and a big house where there is always somebody home. If I would take her with me she would be in a relatively small apartment, probably couldn't go outside (I would move from a small town to the city), no other cats and so on. I feel like my mom just wants to punish me and my cat for some reason. For her/ my family it's not much more work and they have been feeding and caring for her since we got her (together with me of course) because even though she is technically mine she was more of a family cat from the beginning. I also would pay for everything vet, food, toys whatever. I don't even really understand why she seems to hate her so suddenly, I get it's super frustrating and gross when she pees somewhere but it's also an animal you can't make them understand reason and it doesn't happen frequently, also she is not the only cat that pees sometimes so I don't get why with her it seems to be such a problem. I know she is my responsibility and if it is really such an issue I will take her with me and try to make her the best life possible but I feel like it is so unnecessary. When I got her I was only 16 and not mature enough to realize what it means to have a pet, I also feel like my mom knew that i was not in the right mind to make decisions like that, i could barely take care of myself and was definitely not thinking even 2 years ahead. I always felt like it was an unspoken agreement that my cat was like all the other family cats just a little more mine. And it wasn't even really unspoken because she literally has said that I shouldn't take her with me because it would make my cat depressed. My mom also tells me to move out so she can rent out the apartment at a higher price, so it's not her way of making me stay at home. I also want to mention that my family treats all of the animals really well and my cat would not be in any danger if I would leave her home.

What are these acronyms?

[rjalker]

Again, me, not again about the actor, but the pronouns this time, because wow. I honestly feel really bad for you, having to deal with people being so... like that

By theres-no-protocol-for-this:

Murderbot and Pronouns This is my personal opinion, so take it as such. But it felt like something worth saying. I used to get very frustrated when people used the wrong pronouns for Murderbot. I remember thinking more than once, why can't they just get it right. But, a few years ago, my mother read All Systems Red in Russian of all languages. In that translation, Murderbot is referred to, partially, as a robot, which is masculine in that language. When she talked to me about this human-robot, it was also in Russian, and using masculine descriptors. It became "he" by translation. I'm told that in the Hebrew translation, the pronouns are feminine, but that might be hearsay. Then, a dear friend of mine finally finished ASR! And she kept referring to MB as a "she." When I asked my friend why she did it, she said it was because of how its voice is described at the beginning of the book. She'd imagined a tough-looking butch with short hair, a no-fucks-given attitude, and a kind voice. Like herself. And that made me pause. She had seen herself in Murderbot the same way I had. Her choice of pronouns was coming from her perspective of the world, not from a desire to misgender MB. She wasn't trying to hurt anyone. She'd missed the pronouns (especially in book one) and saw herself in the main character. And I understood her logic. The thing she helped me realize as we spoke is that MB has unusual-by-US-standards pronouns, and when people didn't get them right, it made me feel like they wouldn't accept my pronouns either. That their supposed disrespect would extend to me, the person. But that wasn't true. My friend knows my pronouns and doesn't get them wrong. It was never about that. So, now I try to be kinder and gentler when I see people call MB a he/she/they. What I want is for people to respect my pronouns because I'm a living, thinking being, and I want my autonomy to be respected. And by being observant and kind to one of my favorite characters, people showcase that they may be kind to me and respect my autonomy. And that's what I tell them now. I care about MB's pronouns because its autonomy is one way for me to explore my autonomy in a world that wasn't willing to give me the freedom to be myself. And I find that people understand that, just like they see themselves in MB, so do I. And why that makes it important for me to see them get its pronouns correct. And some people didn't read the books deeply enough to really let the "It/Its" sink in. Or they're trying to reference Skarsgard-MB without misgendering the actual human playing MB. Either way, may I recommend kindness and compassion? You're valid, your frustrations are valid (and this is to everyone, not to anyone specific). You deserve to have the world acknowledge your pronouns and your autonomy!

Like, what even?

it's because asking people to do the bare minimum of not misgendering the explicitly nonbinary character is too much to ask for exorsexist jackasses.

It does not fucking matter if other language translations misgender Murderbot. We're fucking speaking English, which means you need to use it/its pronouns, it's English fucking pronouns.

No one is ever going to use Murderbot's correct pronouns if people keep demanding we coddle people's exorsexism.

I can literally just type out "just so you know, Murderbot's pronouns are it/its, not [whatever pronoun the person misgendered it with]" and get people swearing at me and claiming I'm attacking them.

"have compassion and kindness for people misgendering the nonbinary character" doesn't fucking work when the most simple, neutral correction gets taken as a personal attack by exorsexists.

These books have been out long enough, and have enough people in the fandom, that no one should be misgendering Murderbot after the very first time they interact with the fandom. It is Martha Wells' fault that so many people don't realize that Murderbot's pronouns ARE it/its (because I guess she'd rather die than just have these characters tell eachother their pronouns), but that's no excuse when this fandom has collectively known it for years.

And yes, if people are usiung the excuse "well in this other language it uses traditionally masculine/feminine pronouns—" they're an exorsexist jackass. We're not speaking that other language. You cannot use that to justify purposefully misgendering it in English.

[qi-mera]

Considering her very complicated, negative for half of Afterlife, feelings about her father, I was pretty surprised Callie was going to be a Ghostbuster. It felt a little forced, maybe I can see trying to understand Phoebe (and maybe even Egon) more but I’m not sure…

Thoughts?

This is really interesting to think about and I think there's several factors at play here:

Even though Callie is Egon's daughter, I think in a lot of ways she was written as a revised take on Dana Barret. Like Dana in the original movies, she gets possessed by Zuul and sees her child (or rather, children) in danger. Unlike Dana, she takes a more active role in saving the day very quickly. After being freed from Zuul and given a very rushed explanation to what's going on in the final battle of Afterlife, she immediately asks what she can do to help and goes on to activate the trap field in front of the house. By the next movie she's donned the suit and pack as a fully fledged Ghostbuster herself. This isn't meant as shade towards Dana, btw. She's a fantastic character in her own right who responds to situations in a way that is natural to her. However, I think there's always been the lingering feeling that she could've done more (I could do a whole separate ramble on her, but that's another topic).

In regards to her relationships with Egon and Phoebe, that is a pretty good explanation you've come up with! It would make sense for her to learn the tools of the Ghostbusting trade as a way to get closer to them. She barely got to know her father when he was alive, but knew he loved her deeply from the wall of her pictures in his study and the fact that he trusted all his belongings to her in his will. Phoebe is passionate about science, a subject Callie avoided because of the association with Egon, but now she has the opportunity to make up for lost time and get to know her daughter better. There's also to more obvious, practical reason to become a Ghostbuster, which is protecting her children! Throughout most of Afterlife, she lets Phoebe and Trevor roam as they please, which lands them in a lot of danger. I think she realized that there was no stopping them from pursuing the supernatural, so the best thing she could do was join them.

Finally, I suspect there's one more reason Callie became a Ghostbuster, and that's because of criticism from certain vocal parts of the fanbase. I remember when Afterlife was announced there were a LOT of complaints from people who hated the idea of kids being Ghostbusters. Never mind that they were great characters who would grow up as the series progressed. It seems that Sony chose to course correct by throwing more adults in the mix, and Callie just happened to be one of them. I agree that it would've been better if they included more explanation on her choice to become part of the team. The Dark Horse midquel comics had the opportunity to do that, but didn't. Callie's just a Ghostbuster now and we're supposed to accept that from the jump. I would still recommend reading those comics if you'd like to see more of Callie as she's written very well there. She has a much healthier relationship with Phoebe and actually cares a lot about making sure the family has good communication and teamwork (This makes the friction between Phoebe and Callie in Frozen Empire all the more frustrating, but oh well).

I myself have been working on a fanfic that addresses Callie having to use a proton pack for the first time… Remind me to get back to work on that soon lol

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 9: Character growth

Säure really is beginning to seem like everyone’s boogeyman. Like, his involvement doesn’t seem like it’s just some educated guess on Chapman’s part nor my own suspicion, but something everyone I know is taking for granted.

It makes me want to find him to see if I can confirm it.

People compare billionaires to dragons all the time, pointing out how they hoard wealth needlessly and to the detriment of the land around them. But so far, hoarding really hasn’t been a big part of my life. Now that I know that my personal belongings are safe in Nathan’s garage for the time being, I feel safe about them and capable of focusing on other things.

If anything, I might be hoarding social connections now. I’m certainly becoming emotionally attached to everyone I talk to. It’s different with humans than it is with dragons, but it’s still an emotional attachment all the same.

I don’t know how the other dragons are doing in regards to hoarding. It just keeps not coming up. We have more important things to talk about, like Säure’s company, Equisetum Wildlife, and Joel and I having been kidnapped.

Still, we spent six hours talking in the arboretum. Six dragons for six hours, just to air our feelings and suspicions about other dragons who might be allied with Säure, and no concrete evidence that it’s happening.

Except Joel.

When I pointed this discrepancy in proof out, Joel yawped and stepped forward, confirming my suspicions about the night of my interview with the Mayor.

Joel had been recruited and then betrayed.

Six hours, and even though we had articulate and well spoken Wentin there, and Astraia and Tannis who weren’t so far behind, we hadn’t gotten anything more concrete than that, unfortunately.

Watching Ian talk for Brenna had been fascinating. He’d even affected a somewhat feminine voice, and her body language seemed to match what he was saying. It was the best act of faking telepathy I can imagine, and at this point I’m sure it wasn’t actually faked.

But we all ended up calling it off, frustrated, slightly suspicious of each other, and agreeing to be careful and to meet again when one of us had something verifiable.

And then I had gone back home to my roof thinking that maybe I had been invited there to stop a five way fight.

I spent the evening growling and trying to talk to myself, pacing my roof. And then went to sleep as it got dark. I barely even noticed the clouds rolling in.

Then my mind had the audacity to continue that whole “discussion” as a dream. Every time I went back to sleep.

So, I’m lying here on my roof a couple hours after Morning Roll Call, extremely grumpy about all that, thinking it might be extremely nice to just stay up here and ignore my tablet all day, and just take the entire Sunday to myself.

The coffee shop is closed, afterall. And Queen Meg needs her fucking alone time. She needs to think. Or stop thinking.

I get up and stretch again.

I’ve found myself stretching more often this morning, as something feels tight. And I think that last night I was rolling around in my sleep. I’d slept longer than usual, but I feel way more worn out than any other morning.

Grumpy, tired, and restless.

A good rock to lean against sounds awfully nice right now, and I find I’m jealous of Joel and his stretch of shoreline.

And there’s an itch, right in the nape of my neck where I can’t bite at it. But fortunately, my wing claws are really good for that spot and…

I see flakes of stuff falling to the rooftop.

There’s a comic from the internet that runs through my head. A two panel affair drawn by someone named pocketss, of a dragon holding up her leg and saying, “OMG Becky feel my leg I just shed”.

And I’d laugh at myself, but I desperately need a big fucking rock. A boulder, or three.

I cast around the rooftop futilely looking for one for several laps before I realize that the brick building itself is basically just one big giant boulder. I just have to find a reasonable place to rub up against it.

The alleyway. There are no windows in there, and I’d be mostly out of everyone’s sight. And if anyone turns in there to take a shortcut or something, I can just say, “Hi.” Which I taught myself how to do last night, along with a couple other useful words I’ve needed lately.

In desperation I leap off the building and flutter down there to find myself strutting up and down the alley, rubbing myself against every open brick and stone surface available, even rolling on the pavement.

And as exhausting as it is, I spend the better part of the day doing that and not much else.

If I don’t get my regular shipment of meat tonight, a couple of seagulls are gonna die, and I might not actually feel remorseful about it this time.

Assuming I’m not preoccupied with actively shedding well into the next day.

When does this stop?

Do I get a break?

What the hell? My whole body is itching.

When I start noticing larger flakes of scale shaped hide lifting off of me here and there, I try to help them get off faster by biting them and pulling. And then I find myself eating them.

Is this like a monthly thing or something? How often am I going to have to do this?

King Gidorah’s Breath, this sucks.

But, I do get to say, “Hi,” a couple times, which is as delightful as I imagined, as distracted as I am.

Someone walks in, and I stop and look at them, and say, “Hi.”

The first person just turns around and walks right out of the alley without breaking stride or saying anything.

The other, a bit later, says, “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” And backs out quickly, with hands up, looking flustered. Just like they’d walked into a bathroom to see a naked woman drying herself off after a shower. I feel weirdly affirmed by this, and briefly wonder if a cop would dare try to arrest me for indecent exposure.

It’s when this child stands there and watches me for a while without saying anything that I find I can’t do the whole, “Hi,” routine. I feel like I shouldn’t interact with them, and I just keep working at getting myself clean of dead skin.

I’m wondering to myself whether this really came on so quickly today, or if I just didn’t notice the initial signs of it for the past few days or so, when the child looks down the street briefly and then steps into the alleyway and asks, “Want some help?”

That’s when I stop and look at them, careful to use only one eye to do so.

I feel like I need to be honest, but also to turn their help down specifically, so I string together a couple of my new words with old ones in hopes it comes across that way.

“Yes. Thanks. Please. No,” I say. I wish I’d taught myself “but” now.

They blink up at me in confusion, but don’t move.

“Thanks. No,” I repeat.

“Really?” they say. “I bet I’d be good at getting the small bits you can’t see.”

And I'm about to say “no” again when it occurs to me that I really do need help with something, because it’s been getting in the way.

I pull my tablet out of my purse, lay it on the ground, turn it on, open up the app, and say, “Actually, purse, please.”

And then I sit up and compose myself to present my purse, which falls into place in front of my chest. Chapman gave me this purse, which looks flame orange to me, and was thoughtful about it. The strap has clasps holding it to the purse.

“Of course!” my new friend exclaims, and eagerly steps forward to assist, undoing the clasps and gingerly removing my purse. “My name is Molly. Want me to hold onto it for you?”

“Thanks. No,” I say. Then use the tablet to add, “Put this in purse. Take purse to coffee shop. Explain.”

“Oh! OK!” Molly agrees, and then does what I ask.

When they come back, I am already working on the spots the purse was preventing me from really getting at.

“How long does it take?” Molly asks.

I have no idea how to respond without my tablet, and I'm really busy. It feels too good to be doing this now. There’s a lot of relief in it at this point.

And I keep at it.

After a while, Molly says, “Oh. You can’t talk much without your screen. OK. Can you say your name?”

I stop enough to say, “Meg.”

“I’ll leave you alone, but I wanted to say. Um. My pronouns are she/her, because I’m a girl. Mostly,” she looks a little uncomfortable about having said this to me for some reason, and she looks a little more antsy and ready to go find her parents again. But then, just before she goes, she says, “That looks like it’s really awful, but I still wish I was like you.”

That brings me up short, and I lift my head to look at her with my left eye again. Then I lower my head down to about level with her midsection and close my eyes most of the way, by way of my usual smile.

I’m halfway down the alley and she’s at the mouth of it. I’m sure it looks like a bow to her, and it is.

Even if I had a larger vocabulary, I’m at a loss for words.

“Thank you for talking to me, Meg,” Molly says. “I have to go now. I hope your shedding feels really good when you’re done.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Goodbye.”

She brightens up, waves, and then skips down the street and out of sight. But I still see a sadness in her eye as she does that.

I get so worked up in my thoughts about Molly and who and what she might be that I forget about my shed for a while, and when Rhoda finds me in the alley I’m still staring up at the sky, my heart hurting.

Why didn’t Molly transform when I did? Was it not safe for her yet? Will there be other waves of dragons? Or was it arbitrary and a one time thing?

She didn’t really look like a girl to me until she said her name, but I didn’t want to make any assumptions even then. Ever since I’ve met Chapman and come out to myself, I’ve been working hard to be good about that.

I think Molly is around 12 years old. Maybe give or take a couple of years. It’s hard to say. Maybe she’s lucky and on hormone blockers. Maybe puberty is being kind to her. Or maybe it’s not, and I’m reading her wrong.

But I recognized that look on her face because I saw it in the mirror for the past fifty years.

And she wants to be like me.

She already is.

“Hey, Meghan,” Rhoda says, holding my purse against her with her right arm, cane steadying her in left hand. “Are you OK?”

“No,” I say. “No.”

“Want to come over to my place to talk?” she asks.

“Yes. Thanks.”

“Ooh, a new word! I like it.”

“Thanks.”

—

I still have shedding to do, but now that I’m not in the middle of it I can ignore the urge for a while. I’m probably going to be spending a lot of the night working on it, still, though.

Rhoda and I have been talking for a while, enjoying her tea. I’m not drinking it, though, because I don’t want to make a mess in her apartment. I’m just tasting the air occasionally to get a whiff of it, mixed in with the other odors and aromas of Rhoda and her home. If I aim my head right, I get mostly tea, and I do love it.

She gets fancy, loose leaf teas from a shop on the edge of my territory, and I decide I need to visit it someday. Just to stick my head in the door, lick the air, and smile at the owner. I’ll even pay for the privilege, if I can.

Anyway, mostly I’ve been filling Rhoda in on the events of the past two days, and she’s been listening and nodding, only occasionally interjecting or asking a question.

It’s such a comfortable relief to me to be able to think about what I want to say and actually say it, and not be rushed by a conversation. It still takes longer than I’d like, but I start to lose track of time and forget about it, falling into my routine of communication.

This.

This is what I want my life to be like. To be myself in a quiet place with someone who is also just there.

I do wonder a little if Rhoda is being herself, or if she’s going out of her way to accommodate me. But the few times I’ve tried to pay her back for all she does for me, or to find out how, she’s told me, “Let me worry about me. I’ll be OK.” There isn’t much good in pushing, then.

However, when I get to talking about Molly, she has a story to share, so I listen.

“Just before my son died, he once told me something,” Rhoda says to me. “His best friend was a trans boy. A teenager just like him. And Jacob just one day says to me out of the blue, like he always did about whatever he was thinking about. He says, ‘Toby told me the first couple years of transition are the hardest.’ And then he went back to doing his homework and didn’t say anything else that night.”

I watch her look up at the corner of the ceiling. I’m sure she’s composing more words, and even if she isn’t she’s not looking for a response from me, yet.

“I always wondered what was going through Jacob’s head when he shared that. The phrase sounded to me like a piece of wisdom passed around from trans person to trans person. Something they told each other to help get through what they need to do. And I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” she continues eventually. “You’re a special case, Meghan, but I imagine it’s going to be similar for you. Things will get easier for you. They have to. But they didn’t for Jacob, and I don’t know why he left. I know that being autistic in this world can be so hard. Especially for a Black boy like him. But after he said that to me, I’ve always got to wonder, you know?”

Then she looks at me. And I still don’t feel like I should say anything.

I don’t smile. I just make sure my eye is pointed at her.

I’m right eye dominant, I think. I keep an eye out for danger with it more often. But it always feels like my left eye is my friendly one, so that’s the one facing her.

“I think,” Rhoda says. “I think, for Molly’s sake, if you are the center of this thing you call the dracomorphosis, you should figure out why and how. I think you know that.”

“Yes,” I say. 

I remember when she first mentioned her son, it sounded like he had died. But I hadn’t asked, and she had offered no indication how or why. I let the thought enter my head, I cataloged it for later, and had focused on what she wanted to talk about after that. She hadn’t even said his name.

So, tonight, to learn his name and that – I’m pretty sure I heard right – that he may have died from suicide. And that she wonders if he was trans, too.

It’s a lot.

“Yes,” I say again.

“Even if you’re an Artist, Meg. I want you to do this. I don’t know how you can. I don’t know if it’s even wise. But if you can give Molly anything that my son Jacob might have missed out on, I want you to do it. Please.”

I look down at my tablet and knuckle out a couple words, “I’ve already vowed to.”

“Good.”

After a little bit more silence, I dare to ask, “Is this why you friend me?”

She just shrugs and shakes her head. Not a tear on her face. And I think she’s trying to will them to come from the looks of it.

—

I’m on my roof again, staring up at the moon.

It’s a noticeable sliver high in the sky. It’s just strong enough to illuminate the high wispy clouds that are coming in and covering the whole sky, creating a cathedral of light and vapor. But it’s not quite as spectacular as I’ve seen it when near full.

This is my favorite kind of nighttime sky. You hardly get to see any stars anymore, especially from the middle of a city. So, moon illuminated clouds will do.

I used to daydream about flying up into the clouds and maybe kissing the moon, as if it was that close.

Now I’m wondering what moon rocks would do for my skin and scales.

And I want to talk to the moon. But I’m doing it in my head.

I remember Kimberly saying something about the neo-pagan belief that on a new moon you should wish for things to come to you, so that the moon will bring them as it waxes to full. And I know I missed that by a few nights.

I wonder if she wished for the ability to be a were-poodle that night. Or if she was joking for some of that, or just trying something on to see if it fit.

Thinking about spirituality, I find myself struck with an idea, a visualization.

If the Earth were a giant dragon, I’d like to think of the moon and the sun as her eyes, put there, up in the sky, to watch over us.

It’s a silly little myth I’ve just made up, but it feels special to me.

So, I ask the Earth, through the moon that is smiling at me, if maybe she could help me figure this all out.

What should I prepare for, if Säure’s people come for us again?

What should I look for to unravel the puzzle of the dracomorphosis?

Why am I supposedly the center of it?

Does that give me some sort of responsibility?

And then my tablet buzzes.

Rhoda has sent me a personal SMS, not in our group. It’s way past her stated bedtime.

“Don’t root out the mole,” she says. “Focus on community. Make it so strong the mole won’t matter. If the mole slips up, don’t acknowledge it. Feed them bullshit instead. But until then, don’t worry at it. Don’t seek them out.”

That seems like counterintuitive advice, until I remember what was done with Alan Turing’s discoveries. So, after a moment's consideration, I reply with, “OK. Thank you.”

“I’ll give you a paper with advice for direct action on it,” Rhoda sends back. “Best practices. Security. That kind of shit.”

“I know tumblr post. Can find myself,” I reply.

“No. Take it from me,” she responds. “It will seem more legit to the others. Caleb will get it, and Tannis’ girlfriend, probably. Maybe a couple of the dragons. But the rest will need that extra push to calm the fuck down.”

“Yes. Got it. Thank you so much.”

“I wish I could help you shed. That looks awful.”

“Please sleep,” I send her, with three different colored heart emojis.

“Meh,” she shoots back. “I will when you do.”

“Going to sleep now,” I reply.

“Good.”

If somehow, by some miracle, I manage to grant Molly her wish, or if the Earth just does it because I asked nicely, what will her parents do?

Another thought occurs to me, because I’m thinking about trans stuff as much as anything.

If I was human and I’d reached out and taken my transition by the horns back in 2015 when it had first occurred to me that I could seriously do it, and gotten my hormones and surgery funded by Medicaid. Would it be like this, too?

Would I hurt so much for my peers who, for one reason or another, didn’t have that chance?

Would I even be able to help them?

How would they be feeling about it all?

[lastoneout]

It really is wild to tell a doctor to their face that I have tried to "push myself" to regain my mobility and it put me on bedrest for like three fucking months only for them to be like "well have you tried pushing yourself to regain your mobility??" like bro going on a 15 minute slow-ass walk around my neighborhood once a day for a month took away what was left of my mobility for THREE months and my knee STILL hurts more now than it did before. Pushing myself lead to me permanently making my pain worse, not better.

I also wasn't kidding about the cooking thing, I broke down about not being able to cook because I love cooking so much and eating take out and boxed/frozen food all the time SUCKS so my fiancé helped me make just spaghetti one night, just sauce, cheese, and noodles, it took 45 minutes, I was wearing my knee brace, and I sat down as much as possible, and I was in so much pain by the end that I could barely stand. How do I "push myself" in this situation?? I can't even make a basic dinner for myself and my fiancé without having to give up doing anything else including showering and giving my cat her meds and shit like that for the entire rest of the day. How do I push from here??

Like I just genuinely don't know how you can hear all that and then say to my face that continually injuring myself in this way is going to yield positive results. Every time I have pushed I have limited my mobility further. My PT even TOLD me I shouldn't reach the point of being in actual pain while exercising, if I'm hurting really bad I need to stop so I don't injure myself. How does my PT know that when my fucking rhumatologist doesn't??? How does it not make sense for me even just stay mobile until I hit my limit and then use the wheelchair so hitting my limit doesn't mean "not being able to do anything for the next two days"?????

It's like they think I just started hurting and fucking gave up immediately. I was forced to quit my job THAT I LOVED SO MUCH because even when I hit the point where I could barely walk or sit without pain I didn't want to give it up, I kept pushing myself until my fiancé would have to practically carry my ass to the car at the end of my shifts, and it ended with me so disabled I still can't work. My fiancé legit has to constantly step in to stop me from pushing myself too far because I just want to do the things I want to do and I will hurt myself because of it!! I'm independent to a fault, I hate nothing more than admitting that I can't do something I want to do. Every shred of mobility I have sacrificed has been torn from my very unwilling hands, I haven't given up, I've had it taken from me. I never stopped trying to keep walking, keep working, keep cooking, keep going places, I had to stop because I had no other alternative. It was that or destroy my body. And tbh overall I still chose "destroy my body" more often than I should have.

But they still act like I'm giving up. Like it's me being lazy and stupid that got me here. Like if I was willing to just cope with the pain and not give up it would fix everything even though I already tried that.

I dont hate being disabled, I really don't, even though I've had to give up so much stuff. I grew up with a disabled mother, she's used a wheelchair my entire life and tbh I'm thankful because it seems to have spared me the all too familiar abled worldview that disability is something tragic and shameful and horrifying. It's just life, it's always just been my life, and becoming disabled was pretty easy to accept because I never saw it as a tragic fate to be avoided at all costs. This is the body I have, this is what it can and can't do, my life isn't over it's just different now, I'm allowed to mourn what I used to be able to do while recognizing that I can still live a full life with the right kind of medical care. Most of my frustration comes from people projecting their ableist feelings about disability onto me! It's why "oh but you're so young" comments make me want to deck people.

The only thing I hate about being disabled is other people and all their fucking issues that they keep projecting onto me. The way doctors act like it's better for me to give up everything I do just so I can eventually maybe regain some of my mobility rather than give me the help that would ACTUALLY make that possible. And I cannot stand the way I'm treated like some sort of stupid infant who doesn't have any idea what's best for her because I recognize my own limitations and ask for help. The pain isn't even the worst part, it's the dehumanization and infantilization. The insistence that suffering is better than "giving up" and using a mobility aid. The idea that something happening to someone like me is a tragedy and not just part of life. And the way it constantly makes me feel like I'm the problem when I fucking KNOW I'm not.

Every issue I have faced has been a result of the way other people have treated me. My mobility probably wouldn't even be as bad as it is now if my doctors had Fucking Listened To Me when I first brought up my chronic pain as a teenager, because if they had they would have figured out that I have EDS and will always be damaging my joints and thus need braces NOW to prevent that damage from progressing. I hate thinking about how not being taken seriously by doctors is what got me here in the first place. I'm so fucking tired of my fate being in the hands of people who won't help me and then blame ME for how bad I'm doing and insist I have no idea what I'm talking about and helping me would make things worse actually and have you tried just suffering more.

It's legit inhumane. I just want to be treated like a person, and maybe have some recognition for the way other people constantly make my life hell rather than people acting like I got myself into this situation when I fucking didn't, they did.

I was never the problem.

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

I’m gonna throw my five bucks on a certain subject here. Some swearing will apply and this post is LONG AS HELL, so be warned.

The TL;DR of this post is: Paw Patrol canon has been treating most pups like shit lately for several seasons now, so if you ever feel frustrated or absolutely pissed at Paw Patrol canon and the way they’re portrayed most of the time nowadays, know you can count on me here and on my pups’ askblog to have some fucking good food for your soul. I may be slow sometimes because I have a life outside the internet just like everyone else, but I'm not going away. Fuck canon, I'll give my damn self what they've been denying us of and I'll make a point of sharing it with you because we're all tired and the time to make things happen ourselves is long overdue.

I understand how most older fans are extremely frustrated with the way Paw Patrol has been different from what they used to watch and love long ago. You guys have been following this show for years - I started just this January. I didn’t have to spend long weeks, months, years even, waiting for things to happen or get better, and just being more and more frustrated. You have all the right to be pissed beyond your minds now.

I am fortunate enough to see things with the different mindset of someone who’s “binge watching”. While I didn’t need to wait weeks for new episodes, I got to see things at a faster pace and take some conclusions myself too about certain things. I’m gonna share what I think so far.

1- It’s logical to have Chase be a first responder most times, though I can see he’s not being used the way he could be. They’re not exploring his potential, they’re just making a point of using him just because. That is a problem because he is actually a character with an important job/role which could be used in many other ways other than what’s been happening for several seasons now. Also, I don’t give a damn fuck about any of that “he’s cop propaganda” crap. It’s a cartoon about dogs with jobs that are important to keep society functioning. I don’t care cops are jobs created with bad intents way back then, it IS an important job that just can and should be addressed differently now, evolving along with the society it’s supposed to care for. That being said, he BARELY does any cop job at all anyway, he's more like a traffic control and search & rescue pup, which by itself is already sort of a concern too since he's supposed to be a police pup, but whatever.

2- Marshall is really badly used for several seasons too and I honestly wonder why they even have a Firefighter pup if they won’t have him do firefighter stuff. He only does RESCUE stuff. And barely at that. As a friend of mine commented some time ago, he’s treated as the town’s janitor, not a firefighter. We literally barely have any fire ever too. Be careful, guys, you can’t show fire to kids, it’s bad stuff!!! Fire is forbidden!!!! (/sarcasm) Reason for me to fucking love the movies is literally just to see Marshall having his badass moments putting out actual fire.

3- I feel bad for Skye and her fans. For real, I’m not kidding. I like her. And as a fan I can also see ALL the issues they have been causing on her. The most known issue is how she’s overused to the point we’re exhausted of seeing her being a first responder for literally anything, especially for things that could have been solved by other pups (usually taking Marshall off his opportunities to use his ladder for height rescues, lessening even more what little rescue jobs he has left). They do that because they made a big fat mistake when they decided there would be only one female in the main team and now that they “need” female rep for the girls (and their own daughters/etc), they need to overuse the only one they have available 100% of the episodes, at the expense of erasing the other pups. The worst part is that they don’t even try an effort on how to work with her, they just shove her in there to do anything in any way. I haven’t seen her use her pup-pack’s wings in ages now, only that goddamned helicopter and harness or hook.

4- My biggest issue with Zuma is not even the fact he’s barely called for any mission at all for over half the show. I can say for a fact that people who live by beaches have a damn sense of how to behave around water. I live by several touristic tropical beaches. THE LOCALS KNOW NOT TO MESS WITH THE FUCKING OCEAN, the people who fuck up are ALWAYS tourists who have no idea about how beaches work. Meanwhile, the locals know when tides will rise, they know when it’s good time for fishing, they know to read the waters, they know to read the skies, they know where it’s good and safe for swimming or diving. It’s not just “mystical native knowledge” or something they ACTIVELY know they know, it just… It’s just NATURAL. They’re not “taught” these things, they learn it just by living and experiencing the beach life. It makes sense Zuma doesn't have much to do because Adventure Bay residents just will not fuck up on the water.

Now I know the show producers didn’t have THIS specific shit in mind as an excuse to not have Zuma doing many rescues at all, but this is something that’s natural, so I can let that pass. I don’t mind it. My issue about Zuma is how he’s supposed to be this pup who’s all about sea, ocean, water rescues and… They just don’t show it. The thing that got me pissed the most is the fact he never knows anything about sea life - it’s always the Cap’n Turbot who’s telling them about sea animals. Zuma didn’t know what a Narwhal was. Dude, I was a kid who loved (still love) all about the ocean and by age 4 I knew about a lot of animals, INCLUDING Narwhals because they’re freaking “cool whales with a long unicorn horn lol that’s wicked”. If you’ll have a character who loves and lives for the sea/ocean stuff, you gotta have him KNOW about it. It’s HIS THING and they fucked it up by constantly having him NOT KNOWING JACKSHIT ABOUT THE VERY THING HE LOVES.

It’s just clear the producers dislike Zuma for whatever fucking reason I don’t want to know and I don’t give a flying fuck anymore. I don’t expect them to remember about Zuma any more often than what they’ve barely done for several years now. I get sad because he’s one of my favorite pups as I see myself so much in him - except on the fact he SHOULD know about sea life lmao but I can’t get nearly as frustrated as you all because I literally just don’t expect them to change how they treat Zuma. They made it VERY CLEAR they have no intention on giving him any more attention than what little he gets and I’ve come to accept it - doesn’t mean I’m happy. I'm just realistic.

5- I don’t really have anything to “complain” on Rubble and Rocky, thankfully. Nothing about the other pups outside the main team either. Some of them could show up more, but that's about it.

6- My last issue is also a common point in this fandom, which is how little the pups have interacted for several seasons now. We don’t get to see them outside of rescues at all, and when we do, it’s always something happening that will be related to the mission that’s to come. Only “plot relevant” stuff. It gets tiring and makes all characters feel fucking FLAT. We don’t see character development at all. Don’t even get me started on Ryder. “Development” has NEVER been a word in the producers’ dictionary for Ryder.

With all these points, I also want to add that I don’t intend on “giving up” on the show because thankfully I didn’t have YEARS of frustration building up to get me pissed to such a point. I can keep watching it. Also, as an older person (not older fan since I only started watching this year), it’s kinda hard to make me give up on anything at all because I’ve seen too much already from several other cartoons/animes XD Besides, if I have the means to make things happen, I don’t wait for the show to give me the things. I make them myself - reason number one why I created the @diy-fire-water-pups RP/Ask Blog. I can draw, I can write, I know how these characters work, I’ll give myself what I want to see. Fuck whatever else in canon. I don’t care. If Zuma and Rocky won’t interact in canon despite living under the same fucking roof, sharing owner and working together, I’ll make it happen myself and share it with you all because who gives a damn??? I'm the kind of person that when they don't give me what I want to see, I'll just go and make it myself, no fucks given.

I don’t think it’s worth to be so pissed and frustrated at canon media, especially nowadays when we know for a fact the big bosses won’t fucking listen to fandom opinions to work better on what fans would like to see. Sadly, not all show producers are like the Warframe devs (THEY WISH THEY'D BE LIKE THEM XD). You're just making yourself more sad than needed over fictional media. Your mental health is real and you need to pay attention to it.

I’m not asking for ships to be canon - fuck it, they’re portrayed as kids, the fact I ship some characters doesn't necessarily mean I expect ships to be canon in the show. They could at least remember to give the characters A LIFE. And do their fucking jobs, which was supposedly the original intention of the show, to help showing kids what “mainstream jobs” do, for kids to start developing a sense of having a favorite cool job they’d probably want to pursue a career in later in life, or something of the likes. I've had a student who's studying automotive engineering programming solely because she used to watch "Knight Rider" with her dad as a teenager and loved "the sassy car with artificial intelligence" in the show. She grew up to decide pursuing a career on developing automotive technologies because she watched a talking car on TV. Kids might watch Paw Patrol and decide they want to become firefighters, to be airplane pilots, to be marine biologists, to be cops, whatever. Shit is, they're now doing a very poor job on working on this purpose.

I’ll continue running the pups askblog to give myself and to give you all some actual character development, content, some life outside of rescues and missions. I have some big plans for the blog, not gonna give spoilers about these plans yet because I’m still developing the ideas, I just need my desktop computer back working so I can work on my stuff without interruption - currently sharing my slow af laptop with my dad and my younger bro bc we all need it, I’m poor, I can’t afford buying a second laptop, I barely make enough for bills and food as it is. Btw my PC is back from the techs but my TV is dying and I used to use that as a PC monitor/screen, so now I’m going out of my way to buy a new monitor/screen for it (I can go on with my life without a TV for a few years just fine). Once that gets solved, let’s see if my PC will fucking work without shutting down randomly all the damn time. If it works, I can start developing my bigger plans for the blog - I’ll just say each of my three pups will get a very deserved spotlight they SHOULD have in canon (though Rocky’s been getting his with the miniseries “Rocky’s Garage”, amen to that).

So, if you ever feel frustrated about Paw Patrol canon, you know you can come over here and to my pups blog for some actual stuff, some real talk, and a breath of fresh air. Especially for some Rocky and Zuma interaction, since canon just denies us of the simplest interactions between them for no valid reason. Cowards.

[serinoodles]

The Art of Overthinking Us

fanart credits: tyra_drawing on TikTok.

Notes: - Warnings: a slight hint of family issues.

Chapter 2: A Shot of You, No Ice.

You threw your body on the bed holding the pink wallet in your hands, your curiosity tries to get the best of you but you refuse to check what's inside of it thing by thing. But for some reason you keep staring at it tracing the bunny motif.

That beautiful lady's presence is still felt by you, well yes because you are holding her wallet right now but it's like her warmth is around you, a warmth that you haven't had a glimpse of yet but you are certain that you can identify it among thousands of others.

A buzz from your phone interrupted your thoughts, then another. You sat on the bed grabbing your phone to find a missed call and couple of texts from 'mom'. You tilted your head with frowned eyebrows as if it was something unusual.

You sighed shutting your eyes before opening the chat. 'your grandmother is sick' 'care to check up on her?'

You sighed even harder tossing your phone on the nightstand, laying down on your back staring at the ceiling for a moment, you looked beside you spotting the wallet on the bed, you turned your body to lay on your side, you traced the wallet again slowly, as if it was your only way of comfort at the moment, as if you had a warm embrace around your body...

~

Quick steps on the puddles of water, you held your umbrella firmly crossing the road to the opposite sidewalk where your coffee shop is located. Barely a five minute walk from your house to the café yet the bottom of your pants were soaking wet, gladly the roads aren't muddy, or you'd have gotten really upset and went back home.

you stepped inside putting your umbrella on the floor, you walked to the back-room to take off your jacket and scarf, you put on your apron and fixed your hair that has been messed by the wind and the rain.

The door's chime echoed; ''delivery for Vee!'' a familiar voice announced.

You stepped out of the back-room greeting; ''good morning Mark!''

''I didn't expect you to actually be here today, because of the weather'' said mark carrying a box walking towards you.

''well..'' you crossed your arms. ''I didn't expect myself to be here too" you both giggle.

''my boss is the most evil human to ever exist, he delayed the deliveries yesterday and pushed them to the day with the worst weather'' he complained while you signed the receipt.

''I think I will be closing early today, pass by for a coffee if you got time'' you said resting your chin on your palm.

''I can't promise to survive, but I'll do my best. take care'' He waved you goodbye before letting the door close behind him.

You walked towards the box that has been just delivered, you tried to lift it but it was a bit too heavy for you, 'coffee beans can't be that heavy', you thought, then you just kept pushing it with your feet bit by bit until it reached somewhere behind the counter. You crouched riping the tape sealing the carton box, peeling back the flaps.

You blinked as you were met with some sort of package you are so unfamiliar with, colorful and smells a bit... fishy...

You blinked again as if you thought you were hallucinating, you picked one of the cans up, labeled; 'Cat Food'.

''What in the-'' you murmured checking out the rest of the cans and packages hoping for your coffee beans buried under whatever this is, for you to just go through more and more cat food.

You checked the shipping address, and it was indeed not your coffee shop's address.

So frustrated; you ran your fingers through your hair that you could have sworn it went grey for a split second. You let out a chuckles, then a laugh. You seriously have no damn energy to start raging over not receiving your package and the fact that you have no coffee to run the café.

Your loud sigh almost sounded like a scream, you sat on the floor, picked your phone from your pocket and dialed a number. The second the other line picked up you yelled, ''Mark you idiot! You shipped me the wrong box, what in the world I would need cat food for?! I need coffee to run my COFFEE shop!''

''Dang Vee, you got some lungs''

''Mark this isn't funny, I have a whole box of cat food sitting in my shop. What am I supposed to do with that? Start a feline fan club?'' You whined.

Mark held his laugh not taking the situation as seriously as he should, he cleared his throat, ''let me check the system''

You rubbed your forehead in distress sighing again.

''The good or the bad news first?''

''The good I guess''

''You package is still with us''

''And the bad news?''

''It was returned few minutes before you called, so you have to wait until tomorrow to receive it''

''oh my- screw it, see you tomorrow'' you hung up on him mid-sentence and just sat there on the floor chuckling, until you felt a shadow hover on you, you looked up to see her; Cho Hyun-Ju..

you felt your breath getting stuck in your throat. She tilted her head with a look of concern, ''Are you.. okei?''

''How long have you been here?'' you asked ignoring her question.

''Since the- feline fan club..'' she forced a serious look.

You just sat in embarrassment for a second until you realized you probably look ridiculous, you stood up dusting off the fake dust off of your apron.

''Unfortunately, there is no coffee today'' you tried to redirect the conversation.

She shook her head as she spoke, ''I am looking for my wallet, I think I left it here yesterday''