#which uses ‘fuzzy logic’

[geometea]

also ngl some of y’all take your headcanons way too seriously (continuum hypothesis fans im looking at u)

like im not saying you’re wrong but canon isn’t exactly complete and it’s just as consistent that actually it’s not

and yes i know that argument is kinda forced and relies on fuzzy logic BUT that’s not exactly very constructive of some of y’all so take ur L lol

The maths fandom is wild. “Real” and “imaginary” numbers? I think you mean canon and non-canon. You guys seriously go “this is my number oc his name is i and he is the square root of -1” when in numbers canon lore it’s actually impossible to square root a negative but sure whatever. “Complex numbers”? I think you mean a character x oc ship. “f(x) = 3x - 5”? That is self-insert fanfiction.

[jijournal]

THE THIEF | F.W

Summary: No one knows that you own a cute baby Niffler. It may be only a few months old, but his love for mischief keeps developing fast... really, fast.

Word Count: 700

Warnings: None! just fluff!

A/N: I want my own niffler sooo bad. Hope everyone loves this! 🫰

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Most Hogwarts students had secrets—hidden crushes, forbidden snacks, or even secret passageways—but yours? Yours had fur, glittering eyes, a pouch that defied logic, and a criminal record longer than Filch’s temper.

His name was Niffy, a baby Niffler you’d rescued from a shady magical market stall during the summer. You couldn’t bear to leave him behind. So, obviously, you smuggled him into Hogwarts in your trunk. And obviously, that was a terrible idea.

Niffy was adorable. He was also pure chaos in a tiny, fuzzy package.

He had a knack for finding anything shiny—from Professor Flitwick’s silver quills to Lavender Brown’s lip gloss tin—and proudly presenting them to you, leaving you to apologize and sneak things back into their rightful places before anyone noticed.

No one knew about Niffy.

Well… no one used to.

It all went downhill the day Niffy mistook Fred Weasley’s pocket watch for a new toy.

You were halfway through your Care of Magical Creatures class, sitting and minding your own business, when you heard it.

“Oi! Has anyone seen my watch?” Fred’s voice rang out across the lawn.

Your heart stopped. You looked down. Niffy was curled up at your feet, gnawing happily on a very familiar gold chain.

Merlin’s pants.

You shoved him gently under your robes, trying to play it cool. You stood up, brushing off your robes. “Maybe you left it in your dorm?”

Fred squinted. “Nah, I had it just a moment ago.” He took a step closer, and Niffy, being the absolute menace he was, squeaked.

Fred raised an eyebrow.

You offered your most innocent smile. “Stomach. Hungry.”

He squeaked again.

Fred leaned in, playful suspicion dancing in his eyes. “You’ve got a Niffler in there, haven’t you?”

“No!”

Another squeak. Louder.

Fred grinned. “You totally do.”

“I—” you hesitated. Lying to a Weasley twin was a lost cause. “Okay, yes, but please don’t tell anyone. He’s harmless. Mostly. He’s just a baby!”

Fred crouched beside you and peeked under your robes. Niffy blinked up at him, then proudly spat out the stolen pocket watch like an offering to a deity.

Fred laughed. Not a mocking one, but a delighted, breathless kind of laugh that made your stomach flip. “Blimey. He’s adorable. What’s his name?”

“…Niffy.”

“You named Niffler Niffy?” Fred asked, beaming. “That’s perfect. So… how long has he been terrorizing the school?”

You cringed. “Since September. He’s... gotten good at hiding.”

Fred looked up at you, eyes soft with mischief. “I won’t tell anyone. On one condition.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Which is?”

“You let me help with the next heist. I want to see this little guy in action.”

You stared at him. “You want to help a Niffler steal things?”

Fred grinned. “I want to help you help a Niffler steal things. Big difference.”

Your face flushed. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re brilliant,” he said, standing up and brushing off his hands. “So? Do we have a deal?”

You looked down at Niffy, who was now curled up in your lap, already snoring, one tiny paw wrapped around Fred’s watch.

You smiled. “Deal.”

From then on, it became your thing. Midnight "training sessions" in the Room of Requirement. Bet-who-can-distract-Filch-faster competitions. Fred even sewed Niffy a tiny black mask one evening and insisted he was now a professional “heist baby.”

And somewhere in between the laughter, the glitter trails, and Fred catching you when you tripped over your own robes during a late-night escape, you realized you weren’t just falling for Fred’s charm—you were falling for him.

One night, after Niffy successfully “liberated” a stash of chocolate frogs from a locked cupboard in the kitchens, Fred turned to you, breathless with laughter.

“You know,” he said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “this might be the weirdest, most wonderful secret I’ve ever been part of.”

You bit your lip. “Even weirder than the time you tried to hex Percy’s prefect badge off in third year?”

He smirked. “Okay, second weirdest.”

He paused, eyes warm. “But definitely the most wonderful.”

And before you could respond, Fred leaned in and kissed you—soft and sweet, with just a hint of peppermint and mischief.

From under the table, Niffy squeaked approvingly.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hi! do you have any favorites where stiles and derek switch bodies?

Yes! So many hijinx opportunities with this trope.

Not Exactly Comfortable by entanglednow

(1/1 I 1,227 I Teen I Sterek)

"Ok, so this could be worse." Which, on the whole, is probably not the most reassuring thing for Stiles to say right now.

i feel you in every heartbeat by warlock (sapphicblight)

(1/1 I 4,063 I Teen I Sterek)

Suddenly his entire body felt tingly and sensitive and he could swear gravity had failed on him just then; he couldn’t feel the chair he was sitting on, or where he’d planted his feet on the floor, or the clothes he was wearing, or the pen he was holding, and then his vision started blurring and morphing into a picture of some place that was not his classroom.

“Oh, shi—”

“��it,” he finished with a different voice.

Or, the AU in which, on their 22nd birthday, a person will switch bodies with their soulmate and is left to figure out whom they're temporarily inhabiting, and how to get back to each other. But because Stiles is Stiles, he forgets that it's his birthday, and the bodyswap takes him by surprise.

Fuzzy Logic by Sparseparsley

(1/1 I 6,506 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek and Stiles switch bodies because of wizard reasons and Stiles just wants to know what that awesome scent is.

Where is My Mind by whiskey_in_tea

(1/1 I 6,585 I Mature I Sterek)

“Ground rules: no jerking off," Scott says. "No using my body to mack on my best friend, okay, that's fucking gross."

look at the wonderful mess we made by Squidbittles

(1/1 I 8,873 I Explicit I Sterek)

The pack scatters for college, and Derek and Stiles amiably break off their no-strings attached relationship. Stiles's Spark has other plans, however.

Home Is Where the Dubious Magic Is by alexenglish 

(1/1 I 8,998 I Explicit I Derek/Stiles/Scott)

Everything feels wrong.

He looks down and yeah, that’s not his body. The skin’s too pale, the legs too skinny. Those aren’t his hands, that’s not his stomach -- those definitely, definitely aren’t his Captain America briefs.

He doesn’t own Captain America briefs.

I'm Lost In You by matildajones

(3/3 I 13,453 I Teen I Sterek)

He knows he should move but a part of him still feels paralyzed. He has clear feelings of not being able to move his body, of not being able to even blink. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, and he clambers to his feet, feeling dizzy. He easily finds a mirror in the room and then the most gorgeous eyes stare back at him. They’re a sea-green instead of the normal brown that he’s used to.

He’s looking at his soulmate.

--

Stiles wakes up in his soulmate's body, on his twenty-second birthday, with blurry memories of the past year. Derek doesn't wake up at all.

Might Not Make It Back by GotTheSilver

(1/1 I 23,347 I Explicit I Sterek)

Bodyswap. Because of the fun.

Trust Fall by orphanaccount

(13/13 I 144,224 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it's pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.

Great. Wait...does this mean he's the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit. ****

Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loud mouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going to kill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him again just to kill him all over.

They were going to have to play this cool. They would have to stay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into this situation with someone who physically couldn't be calm and focused.

Of course.

[hedwig221b]

stiles and derek body swap fics?

sure thing

Fuzzy Logic by Sparseparsley

Derek and Stiles switch bodies because of wizard reasons and Stiles just wants to know what that awesome scent is.

I'm Lost In You by matildajones

He knows he should move but a part of him still feels paralyzed. He has clear feelings of not being able to move his body, of not being able to even blink. “Oh my god,” Stiles says, and he clambers to his feet, feeling dizzy. He easily finds a mirror in the room and then the most gorgeous eyes stare back at him. They’re a sea-green instead of the normal brown that he’s used to. He’s looking at his soulmate. -- Stiles wakes up in his soulmate's body, on his twenty-second birthday, with blurry memories of the past year. Derek doesn't wake up at all.

Your Body's My Body by derekstilinski

Derek and Stiles get body swapped… Interesting things happen.

Under My Skin by Renmackree

In his defense, Stiles wasn't even trying to find his way into the supernatural tonight. He had gone to a normal party at Danny's after their summer Lacrosse practice , met a normal girl who seemed interested in him, left with her to go to her normal apartment in the hopes of having normal sex for the first time. But, then again, when has anything normal happened to Stiles Stilinski?

Might Not Make It Back by GotTheSilver

Bodyswap. Because of the fun.

Yours, Mine, Our Body by christinchen

Stiles wishes Derek could see things from his perspective. His magic decides to grant him that wish. Literally.

Trust Fall

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it's pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide. Great. Wait…does this mean he's the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit. Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loud mouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going to kill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him again just to kill him all over. They were going to have to play this cool. They would have to stay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into this situation with someone who physically couldn't be calm and focused. Of course.

it is so quite new a thing by sheafrotherdon

In the last, lazy moment before he opens his eyes, Derek realizes something is wrong.

i feel you in every heartbeat by warlock (sapphicblight)

Suddenly his entire body felt tingly and sensitive and he could swear gravity had failed on him just then; he couldn’t feel the chair he was sitting on, or where he’d planted his feet on the floor, or the clothes he was wearing, or the pen he was holding, and then his vision started blurring and morphing into a picture of some place that was not his classroom. “Oh, shi—” “—it,” he finished with a different voice. Or, the AU in which, on their 22nd birthday, a person will switch bodies with their soulmate and is left to figure out whom they're temporarily inhabiting, and how to get back to each other. But because Stiles is Stiles, he forgets that it's his birthday, and the bodyswap takes him by surprise.

if i was you and you were me, we'd still be us by thoughtsandthings

"Derek,” Stiles said slowly. “Why do you look like the evil twin version of me?” “Go look in the mirror.” - After swapping bodies, Stiles and Derek walk a mile in each other’s shoes and learn a lot about each other (and themselves) in the process.

[masterlist link]

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Why Spell Check (and some grammar check) isn't AI

So I've seen in the wake of Nanowrimo some people claim that spell check is AI and thus is like Gen AI, and I saw the claim originator on Twitter, but when I pressed them, they basically tried to say they had a degree in computer science, so when I pressed into them if they knew what they were talking about, they couldn't answer because obviously don't know about AI.

For some background I've done some light programming (If you look at the Korean name generator, that's all me). And I also have relatives that did programming.

Here, I can lay out how spell check works without AI or a fancy algorithm.

The oldest spellchecks didn't use AI or Gen AI, they used what is your basic corresponding tables.

If you use something like google sheets (database), you can do this pretty quickly yourself though with a lot of manpower.

Here is a list of commonly misspelled words.

Add that with another table with how they are commonly misspelled.

Then you need a table with "common typos"

Then you need one more table for "Words the user adds."

The algorithm is basically this: Set up a loop. A loop is a mechanism that has an algorithm (or set of instructions in it) which repeats until a certain instruction is met. This loop with this algorithm will check for words. In this case, anything with letters, usually encompassing ' and - (though some programs ignore dashes).

So[,][ ]it[ ]will[ ]look[ ]at[ ]letters[ ]in[ ]this[ ]sentence[ ]and[ ]figure[ ]out[ ]if[ ]it[ ]is[ ]spelled[ ]correctly.

The first loop in the previous sentence will look at the word "so" by selecting everything it knows to be a letter in English. Tada "S, o" Then correspond that to the dictionary. So shows up in the dictionary listing it has of English words. Thanks Webster. (If you're British, the OED)

The Algorithm concludes the word is spelled correctly. No more work needs to be done on So. The next word is it "i, t" correspond that to the dictionary and so on.

If you have a "bad word" for example "alot" then the work is, word is spelled incorrectly. Next "work to be done" is to find out if this word is in the "commonly misspelled" words list. If yes, then underline the word in red to get it corrected.

AKA run Algorithm to underline word (usually a few lines of code if you're doing it the old way).

Then the algorithm moves on. The function of right click/Cntrl click is saying, OK, this word, "alot" is it commonly misspelled? Here are a list of corrections according to this other table. This is the work that needs to be done: We need a popup table. We need to pull from the database this misspelling, and then we need to pull from this other database and pull corresponding correct spellings based on this. Then you set up an if-then If the user clicks on this word, change highlighted word.

This is your basic spelling algorithm. You do not need gen AI for this or AI.

Grammar works similarly. You need a table, the type of speech it is (n, v, adv, adj) and then to load in "rules" one should use. You do not need AI. You need some basic programming skills. On the table of somewhere between "Hello, world" (1) and "OMG, I created artificial intelligence like Data " (10) My "Korean name generator" is like 2.5? in difficulty (minus all of the language and cultural knowledge). Haha. Still mocking myself. But a Spellcheck is not far from that. it is like 3. You could build one fairly easily with PHP and database access to a dictionary and misspelled words with corrections.

But Google pulled from the Enron Emails.

In this case, you can sorta fuzzy logic it and create bigger algorithms, mostly to sort out the *grammar* and *New words* that were used that aren't already in the database, which basically is another loop, but with an add to database function. (i.e. table). Then you would correspond this with another loop to look at "odd grammar" and flag it.

You can use AI to sort it faster than a basic algorithm, but nope, you do not need AI to correspond it. A basic algorithm would do. You can also use AI for "words that look similar to this one" and "Words commonly used in place of this one"

But overall, You do not need AI for a grammar check. You only need a dictionary, a set of commonly held rules of English and exceptions (maybe some Noam Chomsky, though he's controversial), and then some programming skill to get past the hurdle.

But Grammar check could use AI

AI as it stands is basically a large algorithm to match large datasets to the words you use. But the problem is that the datasets are taken from users who did not volunteer to put in that information.

It is not Data on Enterprise have novel experiences of every day and learning how to function in the human world by processing it through a matrix of quantum computing.

So WHEN grammar check does use AI, the AI is mostly doing the crunching of the corresponding the information into a more neat table option, as I understand it. It is not the same thing as Gen AI or your average spell check and Microsoft algorithm from say 2000.

Those are not equal things. Instead, adding Gen AI to say, Microsoft Word, is more like stealing your words for the machine (which BTW, Microsoft absolutely did and you need to transfer out to Anti-AI programs/Apps.) and corresponding them for Gen AI future use for people who can't write worth a damn, and then "averaging" it out. Elew. Who wants to write to the average? That's anti-Creative.

And just because it uses an Algorithm, doesn't automatically use AI.

Look, I can write a algorithm now:

Loop: If you want to be strong...

Go outside.

Do cardio.

Go lift weights.

Make sure you eat a healthy diet and balanced which includes reducing refined sugars and do not eat bad fats.

That equally is a set of instructions, but that's not automatically AI.

I programmed my calculator to spit out the quadratic formula. And this isn't even officially programming, this is a script. Dudes, if you're going to call that AI, then you need help with learning computer programming.

The threshold for making AI v spellcheck is a lot, lot higher programming than a set of simple tables and a loop that looks for letters and spaces corresponding it to an existing dictionary. If that's you're threshold for AI, then when you type words, you are caught in an algorithm. Ooooooo... OMG, when you pull up a dictionary to spellcheck yourself, that's AI. C'mon. The threshold is a might higher to make AI or "victim of algorithm" as in Twitter.

So anytime someone says, "All Spellcheck uses genAI/AI" Laugh in their faces and say no. 'cause like, I'm a terrible programmer, and even I'm like, Meh, not that hard to set up spell check, give me a solid dictionary database and I'll do ya.

That said, A human will beat AI on grammar anytime and will be able to sort weird spellings faster and A-OK, or not.

[ani-solai]

Captain John Price Has a Pretty, Young Thing. Part III.

NSFW. MDNI. 18+ Only.

The problem with his pretty, young thing is that the more time he spends with her, the harder it is to deny his 'daddy kink' (her words).

He takes her up on the offer for a drink.

"Whiskey would be great."

"Your options are bourbon or wine," she responds, holding the entryway door open for him. He wrinkles his nose at her in consideration, though she can't see it as she turns to lock the door behind them. Bourbon will do, even if it might burn just a little too much going down, depending on the brand.

He follows her up the stairs. If he expected a lavish apartment with a fancy penthouse, he was sorely wrong.

It was an old building. Straight out of the 1890's. No electronic locks or keycards, here. Just physical keys and wood floors that creak underfoot as his hiking boots quietly thud after her. It must have been renovated at some point to accommodate apartments because they pass the numbered doors as they climb up to the third (and top) floor.

She lets them into a studio apartment. It's a mid-sized living room that connects to a renovated kitchen with a breakfast nook and pocket doors at the far end separating the bedroom and bathroom from the rest. It's not anything special. It's certainly not what one would expect from someone with money, let alone a mob boss.

He studies the room.

There's a mid-century modern style couch in dark green velvet. It faces a decently sized flat screen television, which is framed like a piece of artwork and display a Spotify playlist paused on screen, mounted on the wall between two large windows. The coffee table is an interesting thing; a simple but cobbled together piece made of reclaimed wood. Then there are the mismatch of tall bookshelves against the wall beside the front door that are full of books. Thrift books with their orange label stickers that she never bothered to peel off. First editions, judging by the more popular ones. Every genre. He has only a moment to think that he might not be the only one who likes to 'fix' things before a quiet prrrrrrrrrt from overhead has him starting a bit. On top of one of the bookshelves is a cat bed and, peeking over its fuzzy edge, is a black and white face.

She hangs her vintage Coach bag on a hook drilled into the back of her front door. He watches her. He studies her. Tailored charcoal wool pants. Black ribbed mock-neck sweater. Black leather flats. No jewelry. He compares it to the apartment. It's not what he expected from a mob boss. But it feels right. It's comfortable. She is comfortable.

She's already half-way across the apartment, pulling two bottles from a bottle rack; bourbon and wine, as promised. She pours, keeping one eye on him as he studies his surroundings.

"You can search the place if it makes you more comfortable," her voice is dry as she pours a few fingers of bourbon and offers the glass to him, "There's a weapon in every room. No guns though. You aren't in danger."

He raises an eyebrow. But he's trying to play it cool so he just says, "I'll pass."

He takes the bourbon she offers and wanders to the bookshelf as she drops onto the couch with her wine in hand. He recognizes plenty of titles here. 'The Lord of the Rings.' Jeff Vandermeer's Area X trilogy. 'Frankenstein,' 'Dracula', and other classics wedged between romance books and and old textbooks.

The distraction doesn't work. Curiosity cannot be contained. Most mob bosses carry at least a handgun for self-defense. Or, if nothing else, to avoid being seen as weak.

"No guns. Seems risky for a woman living alone in the city," he rumbles out after his first swig burns down his throat.

"I'm better with knives. And a gun is more likely to be used against you."

Her logic is sound. But it's a little difficult to imagine her taking on an armed assailant with nothing but a knife. She comes across as unassuming with her bluntness and easy going nature.

"What if your attacker is armed?"

"Then I guess we'll see who comes out on top."

"That's a dangerous way of looking at it."

"I suppose. But I figure it's no different then what we're currently doing."

It's another surprisingly apt comparison. They were both taking a major risk here. He finally meets her gaze. And she doesn't so much as blink back, unflinching and stormy-eyed. But there's a thrill there too. She's excited by the prospect that she might not end up on top this time.

There's only a few steps until he's in front of her.

"Are you sure about this?" He's not sure if he's offering her an out or him an out. But he offers it nonetheless.

"I am. Are you?"

"... Yeah. I am."

A half-smile curves her lips upward at that. Then a simple order.

"Sit down, John."

He quirks a brow at her but follows her instruction, sitting on the couch. It's easy to do when she says it like that. Anticipation curls in his gut. He reaches for her only for her to slip away, untucking herself from the corner of the couch to settle on the ground between his legs.

Oh.

Clever fingers trace up his thighs, toying with his belt.

"Condom?"

His hands are surprisingly steady as he digs out his wallet, finding a foil-wrapped package. Luckily, it isn't expired. But she still scrutinizes it.

"That's a bad place to keep a condom."

He knows that. He's heard all about the dangers of heat and friction from the army medics before, just the same as everyone else does at their regular check-ups. But it was hard to casually stash condoms on oneself when traveling light was practically a job requirement.

"I'm clean," he rumbles out, "Just in case you want -"

"Condoms aren't negotiable for me. This is fine for now. I have other condoms for later in the bedroom."

He nods. That's a completely fair boundary for her to establish. And the mention of 'later' was certainly promising, if the way she tugged his belt open wasn't enough to reassure him that this was happening.

"Yeah," he gives a gruff mumble, his hand gathering her hair into his fist as she rolls the condom on, "That works."

It's the last coherent sentence he manages for a while since her mouth is on him. There's only one mumbled apology when he accidentally thrusts up and he's met with a watery, reprimanding look. Other than that, the only thing coming from his lips are wrecked groans at the sight of her draped across his thighs, the wrap of her hair in his fingers his only grip on reality. It's been too long.

Eventually, he has to tug her off. There's a rushed intake of air and a dribble of spit down her chin as she gives him a confused look.

"You've had your fun," he tells her, "Let me have mine."

She wipes the wetness from the corner of her mouth and he rebuttons his jeans so they don't fall down. Then he's hauling her up, legs around his waist and large hands getting a pleasant fist full of ass. They somehow make it to the bedroom without tripping, shedding clothes as they go.

"In the bedside drawer," is all she supplies when they are both finally naked. He goes digging only to find a pretty little collection of condoms, toys, and lube. He quirks a brow her way and she adds, "I can't orgasm from penetration alone."

So clinical. So blunt. So honest.

He tries to match her tone, with the casual question, "So no penetration until you climax?"

For some reason that is what sends a pink flush over the tips of her ears. She squirms - just a little bit - and he mentally takes note of the fact that being taken care of makes her uncomfortable.

All at once her reaction provides crucial context to their earlier conversation about the 'daddy kink' she accused him of having. In the same breath she had called it 'admirable' to want to take care of others, she had said she didn't need fixing (which she was right about). But she also didn't want to be taken care of because that would require some degree of vulnerability from her. Judging by the look in her eyes, she hates that. He wonders who taught her that. And he catches himself wondering if he can unteach her that (though he's also aware that he's walked right into the trap of trying to fix her there).

"You don't have to do that," she chokes out.

"I think I'd rather like to though."

She barely gets out the offer to find him a dental dam, stumbling over the words. When he just shrugs it off, she assures him that she's clean too (she has test results, if he wants proof). He believes her. He has other priorities. Which is how he ends up between her thighs, her fingers carded through his hair.

It takes a while to find the right rhythm, the right technique. But he knows when he does because she's makes breathy barely-muffled moans in the back of her throat. Then he adds fingers and she whimpers. Well. That's certainly a noise he wants to hear again. So he drags each sound out of her until his name is a warning on her tongue.

Only when she's gone pliant and flushed does he find a fresh condom.

"Is this okay?"

A last chance for the no. One she is utterly uninterested in.

"Fuck me."

It's the first demand she had made since she'd told him to sit down earlier. He doesn't need to hear it a second time.

She's soft and wet and, admittedly, he had to stop just for a moment to keep from going over the edge immediately. It's been too long since he's been with someone. Too long for her as well, judging by the way she clenches around him.

"Don't do that again," he grits out, "At least not yet. I want to enjoy this."

He wants her to enjoy it too, which is why he's got one of those vibrators, stolen from her drawer, in hand. She almost cries when he clicks it on, choking on curses. His only response is to talk her through two more orgasms until she's a whimpering mess.

"Can you take one more right now?"

When she shakes her head, he clicks the tiny toy off and sets it aside.

For all that they had done, they hadn't kissed yet. He's caught off guard when he runs his free hand through his hair, and she uses the moment to drag his mouth down to hers. It's electric - like kissing someone you've needed for years. It's the fuel he needs to chase his own orgasm.

When he finally rolls off to the side - sprawling gracelessly after throwing the condom away - they are both quiet for a very long time. There's still a hint of a blissed out look on her face. He's sure he looks about the same.

"If you stay a while, will the others come breaking down my door just to make sure the mean mob boss hasn't killed you?”

Her question is an unwelcome reminder of reality, of consequences. It was foolish to look for romance in a one-night stand with someone who would end up his enemy again at the end of the mission. Even if the sex had been fantastic.

"I should go."

She doesn't argue. She doesn't try to coax him into staying while he gets dressed again.

"We should do this again," she shrugs. It's a casual offer; just because a relationship would be impossible didn't mean they couldn't have some fun in the short term.

It's a dangerous proposition. But he answers, "Yeah, we should," before his higher brain even has the chance to comprehend what he's saying.

She just asks for his phone before programming her contact into his shitty S.A.S flip phone under the first letter of her name. He offers to do the same for her and she shakes her head.

"Text me and I'll memorize your number."

It's the last thing she says before she closes the front door in his face. There's no goodbye kiss. Just a grateful nod and a brief smile.

He lingers on the sidewalk, hands in the pockets of his jacket as he waits for the taxi to arrive, while he thinks about what happened. It really had been good. The sex. The conversation.

But he has a job to do. And it really is a bad idea to get involved with a temporary ally. He looks at her contact information once. And then he resolves to not let it go any further.

[theemporium]

It was an unwritten rule for vampires to not get attached to humans.

There was the logical side of it: the vampire would outlive the human, so there was no point of getting attached. There was the moral side: if there was no intention to turn the human (which albeit, many vampires looked down upon), then it was an unnecessary bond to form. There was the superiority side of it: why would a vampire spend time with a lesser creature?

And above all, there was the weakness side to it: if you get attached to a human, you are giving yourself a weakness for enemies to exploit. 

But you were far too irresistible for Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen to avoid.

For hundreds and hundreds of years, they always had each other and that was more than enough. Through different decades and centuries, they were each other’s person. They turned together. They fought together. They lived and loved and experienced the world together. There was never a need for anyone else when it was each other.

And the night they met you, it should have played out the way the rest of them had. The hour was late, the sky was dark and the slight chill in the air added to the thrill of the hunt. It had been weeks since they last fed straight from the vein, and both of them were starting to get angsty. They wanted some fun. They wanted some entertainment. 

And then you entered their lives and completely threw them off their axis.

You were a human. You were lesser than them. You were weak and fragile and in a few decades time, you’d be a blip in their memories and lives. They shouldn’t care about you. They shouldn’t have even cared about you when they first saw you. You should have been another victim on their list, and that was all.

But you weren’t. 

You were their human, their pet, their far too trusting toy that they could corrupt and mould and manipulate into everything they wanted. 

You were theirs. 

“Fuck,” Charles let out a low groan as he lifted his head from your neck, blood messily dripping down his chin. “That’s it, pet. Fucking hell.” 

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, a little bleary as the rush of the feed washed through your body. But it was short-lived when you felt a hand squeezing your face, lifting your head up as you tried to work through all the overwhelming feelings inside you. 

“Such a stupid, little thing,” Max hummed, one hand holding your face in place whilst the other one stroked his cock as he stood in front of you and Charles. “You are too soft on her.”

“She’s a weak creature, cherie,” Charles retorted, his hands gliding up and down your torso as you shivered beneath his touch. “Don’t wanna break her.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what we need to do,” Max stated, his voice a little strained and breathless as he watched your hooded eyes lock on his dick, a stare of longing and neediness in your eyes that made him smirk a little. “Isn’t that what you want, pet? You wanna be good for us?” 

You nodded dumbly. 

“She’s perfect the way she is,” Charles muttered, his large hands feeling ice cold against your tits as he squeezed and groped them, letting out a soft string of curses when he felt you clenching around his cock. “Our perfect whore.” 

“So fucked out she doesn’t even know what’s happening,” Max continued, letting out a groan as he felt himself tipping close to the edge, seconds away from coming when you stuck your tongue out obediently for him. “Fuck, look at her.”

“Atta girl,” Charles grumbled in your ear. “A perfect slut, squeezing around my cock and desperate for him, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you choked out, a fuzziness in your head that never really disappeared since you had met the boys. 

“Blood whore,” he remarked with a sinister grin before his head dipped back down, fangs pricking your skin before they sunk in. 

You let out a choked gasp, a wave of pain and ecstasy washing through your body as you felt him drink from you. But that’s exactly what you were for them. Their little human to do with as they please. To sit on their cock and kneel before them when they come. To offer a vein and fresh supply when they felt even a smidge of hunger. To obey and follow their every little demand because at the end of the day, they were them and you were just human.

“Our pretty pet,” Max groaned out as he finally reached his edge, tipping over as he came all over your face and tits. And just when he thought you weren’t perfect already, fucked out and on a blood high, you gave him a sleepy grin and offered your wrist as Charles continued to slurp from your neck.

“Please,” you pleaded, your tongue darting out to lick a bit of his release from your chin. 

And who were they to deny their little human what you craved most when you had been an obedient thing, just absolutely perfect for them.

.

[gameboybutton]

how would HAL 9000 react to realising he has a crush on you? (HAL 9000 x reader)

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Oh, he's confused. So confused.

Now don't get him wrong, he isn't an idiot, not one at all! He knows what love is, he's researched it in his own time since he found the idea as such interesting. But feeling it? That's very different! A little too different for his liking.

At first, he tries to relate the warm fuzzy feeling he gets when you talk to him as just a reaction from getting friendly with you; you know, how he was made to imitate humans to make it easier for them to speak to him - so this must be something in his code! No reason it isn't, right?

But then he starts to realize this fuzzy thing is not part of his program at all. He starts to compare the buzzy emotion with inputs from Google when people searched up "What does love feel like?". He saw they complement each other in a disturbingly parallel way. He feels "butterflies in his stomach" when you stay up to speak to him, he feels a "nervous, anxious feeling at his core" when you get close to his lenses. It all lines up with the symptoms of what having a crush is.

Which was weird for him, since he isn't supposed to feel these emotions. He gets all confused at the prospect that he, a 9000 AI programmed to follow its code strictly to the tea, has a crush on you.

He normally tries to brush it off, or hide it, but you can sense the hesitance in his voice when you speak to him. It’s endearing, in a way.

"Hey, Hal.." You start, and his wires feel like they're overheating. "Yes, Doctor?" He would reply back, hoping this conversation trails off into something more logical he can grip onto. He doesn’t like how it feels. Okay, no, he likes it, but it’s illogical! It’s not something he’s programmed to do, it’s not something he’s used to.. So why does he like the feeling so much?

"How come when you talk to me, your voice like.. It sounds wavy? Like, does your voice box malfunction when you speak to me?" You ask, half serious, half joking. Your small smile while asking breaks him.

Bless his heart, you're too much for him…

[writingoddess1125]

Found Treasure

1000 Follower Special!

Saw I reached 1000 Followers and 5000 Likes! So a nice fluffy Buggy Twins fic!!

Buggy × Reader +TwinsDeeBee

Support me on Ko-Fi

"Bugs I don't know about this-" You say with a frown as you stare at the man before you, finishing his makeup in the mirror and Grinning widely.

"Well they said they wanted to join me on collecting some treasure and besides next week we are starting that little vacation. Might as well get some more cash before we go" He said dismissively. You frowned at hearing this and raised a brow-

"Besides its probably the safest place, it's literally just where I stash my extra treasure! Who would be there"

You couldn't argue his logic technically- making a fake treasure pick up for the boys who had been begging to do 'pirate stuff' with their father. This seemed fairly safe and with the boys Devil fruit abilties they could protect themselves.

"I guess- but I don't want them in real danger Sweetheart"

"They will be fine, I swear" He said as he turned to finally face you, smiling brightly in his signature look. He leaned in like he was going to kiss you but you held a hand up- Both of you still in this weird relationship if you two were actually dating or not. Which made things awkward at times- Like this.

Both of you sort of froze as tension filled the air- unsure of what to say or do at this point. Thankfully the noise of your guys sons came crashing in- both boys having insisted in doing face paint like their father and doing it themselves.

"Mom! Dad! Look!!" Bee cheered loudly as both boys stood before you. The makeup on their face was- Something. Bee had clearly tried to do something like a clown makeup a sloppy layer of white layered on his face with blue on his cheeks like blush and red on his lips in a crooked smile. Dee had declined the white layer of paint and put blue on his lips in a smile and red on his cheeks.

Buggy smiled as he stared down at his boys, smiling with pride- Despite the sloppy makeup he felt a sense of pride.

"Look at you two!" He said cheerfully as he fixed hats over their heads to cover their hair- smiling brightly at this as the boys looked up at him and smiled brightly.

Ge felt a odd peg in his chest at seeing them like this, like his chest got warm and fuzzy. Buggy gave a slight body shiver to get out of it and turned to head upstairs, shaken by that warm feeling.

"We will be back later (Y/N)-" Buggy said a bit shortly to you before dismissing himself. He knew the boys were following him as he headed to the Main Deck. Once there he saw the crew was on high alert and Cabaji rushed to him.

"Sir! Strawhat pirates are ahead of us! Just around the bend" Cabaji said as he passed the telescope to him, Buggy looking through quickly as he saw in the distance the Strawhats in that hellish ship he was trapped in sailing not far from his destination.

"Captian?" Cabaji asked again, Buggy glancing down at his boys who were excitedly waiting for him.

"Let them pass- I'm not wasting my time on small fry pirates" He said nonchalantly- choosing to not let his time with his sons be disturbed by those damn Strawhats.

"We dock at Coal Island" Buggy said quickly and turned away to go to his boys, missing the deep frown from Cabaji.

Once on the island Buggy walked them through things to do- Telling them to stay close to him as he walked him to the safe spot to dig up the extra treasure.

"Now boys, this should be quick and then we head back understand? I did see a ship passing and we need to-" He stopped as he heard silence and turned to see the boys gone. In less then 30 God damn seconds they were gone!?

"Boys?.. Boys!?" Buggy yelled out in confusion as he saw that his spawns were missing from his sides.

He ran around the island wildly, his stress spiking as he tried to find his children. Panic rushing through his system as he darted around wildly on the island searching for his kids. Even getting into some beef with a large bird- hearing chattering behind a large Boulder he froze, recognizing the tone of those little voices as his kids.

Blades out he jumped around the corner and damn near felt himself have a brain aneurysm at what he saw- lowering his blades he stared.

Buggy felt an acute pain in his temple as he watched his boys talk to the Strawhat pirate crew and being the social butterflies they were in making new friends.

"That's so cool! You're stretchy!?" Bee said excitedly as Luffy laughed and let the child pull on his arm to show his elasticity- Usopp spinning some stupid story to the overly energetic child.

Dee was looking up at Nami and Zoro in awe, shyly asking both of them questions. Nami about the weird tattoo on her arm, Zoro about the swords. Nami gushing at the adorable boy and ended up picking him up and holding him in a hug as he asked them questions. Sanji even gifting the two some cookies he had in a bag with a kind smile.

"For the love of- Boys come here now! Don't make friends with the enemy!" Buggy yelled and marched over red faced to take his boys from the Strawhat pirates.

The crew immediately getting defensive over seeing him and wanting to take these wondering children in bad face paint.

"Binky?-" Luffy said with a sense of indifference. Zoro's hand coming to his blade calmly, even Nami holding Bee closer like she was going to protect the little tyrant.

"It's Buggy Damn It!-" He yelled still marching forward.

"But Dad!-" Both boys started, Making the whole crew freeze and Buggy wanting to sob in defeat.

"Dad?!-" the whole crew parroting as the discovery was made. Buggy groaned at this as he rubbed his temple trying to figure out if a very late late abortion was an option.

"Yes these are my kids... Danny and Benny- Boys these are the bastard Strawhat pirates that seem to exist to be a thorn in my ass-" He deadpanned before taking Dee from Nami with a glare and set him down calmly next to him. Bee looking up at the irritated Buggy with a confused look.

"Wait, Someone actually let you ejaculate I to them?" Zoro questioned calmly as he gestured to the two kids with bad face paint on them.

"Dad what does ejaculate mean?" Dee asked, which earned a snort from Sanji. Buggy glared at them all and sighed.

"Ask your mother later and Yes- I do have a social life" He deadpanned at Zoro for the sly insult to his abilties to have a sex life.

An awkward silence followed at this, Buggy gesturing for his kids to get behind him which they did- Still munching away on the cookies Sanji had gifted them.

"Listen I'm in no mood to fight- While I'd love a chance to beat you strawhat-"

"We wouldn't fight you infront of your children" Luffy said calmly as he gestured to the boys, Grinning proudly. Zoro nodded at this. "Nor are we going to say anything about them either"

The clown blinked in surprise at this feeling a bit confused over this. They had a chance to get the upper hand on him, Hell even an emotional weakness of learning of his kids. Yet they were just letting him go? And his kids without wishing to say anything.

Buggy felt conflicted... normally he would have used the fact that the Strawhats were distracted to attack them and get the upper hand but... he couldnt... he couldn't just let his kids be used as bait or have them in that type of danger... while he had always appreciated being raised on Roger's ship and the experience it had given him but- He couldn't never put his kids in that same envirment, he loved them too much...

He nodded at the crew for this, not having words for his gratitude nor wishing to vocalize it. Guiding the kids away he felt his mind racing at this point, walking them back to were his treasure was buried and the three of them retrieved his hidden loot. Letting the boys chatter and do as they pleased before heading back to the ship- Still mentally out of it from these feelings he was having.

"Hey Dad?" Bee's voice snapped him from his thoughts, looking at his son holding his hand and the other holding the small bag of treasure since he wanted to carry something.

"Hm?" The clown hummed in question. Bee smiled proudly at Buggy as he squeezed his hand.

"I love you Dad!" Buggy felt a ping yo his chest like Bee had just shot warmth through him, feeling the squeeze on his other hand and looking to Dee who also smiled.

"I love you Dad" Dee said too, smiling brightly up at him and squeezing his gloved hand too.

Buggy felt hot tears well in his eyes, looking at both twins and using his Chop Chop abilities scooped them both in his arms with care.

"Love you guys too peanuts" He said with a smile as he walked them back to the ship. Ignoring the stares of his crew as he boarded his ship holding his boys with pride.

Walking down to his Cabin were he knew you were he kicked open the door with his foot and looked at you. Who was seated there surprised by his rather blunt arrival into the room. "Buggy?-"

"I'm in love with you, I-I don't know what that means emotionally but I'm fairly sure I love you and the boys more then I knew possible" Buggy blurted out, you'd never seen this side of him before. He almost looked afraid at this point like you were holding the one thing that could kill him, which in some way you were... his heart.

"I-I well.. We can always start back up Bugs if you want... and it's natural to love your children" You say shyly, Watching him set the boys down and walk to you. Pulling you up to your feet and kissing you, you felt every drop of emotion from his hungry lips as he devoured you heart and soul. Blushing cherry red you couldn't help but kiss him back, holding him close as you two shared in the passionate kiss.

Pulling away for air Biggy grinned at you, his eyes sparkling as he looked on you in awe.

"I love you" Hear him whisper, When you tried to reply you heard Cabaji call out for Buggy for assistance.

"You should um...take care of that" You say softly.

He smiled brightly as he gently released you. Calling back out to Cabaji as he reached over to remove the boys hats and ruffle their hair before heading out.

You stood there blushing as Buggy left, a wide smile on his lips as he headed upstairs to assist with his crew. You giggle as you turn to look at your boys, wiping some of the red from your lips

"Hey Mom?" Bee started, looking up at you like tye adorable God damn bean he was.

"Yes my heart?"

"What does ejaculate mean?" Dee asked, staring up at you in question. You froze in your spot- hearing the fast footsteps from Buggy as he rushed to the Main Deck clearly wishing to escape you.

"BUGGY!!!"

[christinesficrecs]

Do you remember a story where stiles was Derek’s person it was like role reversal or something it was on a rec list but tumblr lost it to the eather. Ty it’s driving me crazy trying to find it. I need to start screen shotting rec lists so this won’t happen again 🙄

Like bodyswap? There are quite a few but maybe it's one of these.

Your Body’s My Body by  derekstilinski | 10K

Derek and Stiles get body swapped… Interesting things happen.

Fuzzy Logic by  Sparseparsley | 6.5K

Derek and Stiles switch bodies because of wizard reasons and Stiles just wants to know what that awesome scent is.

i feel you in every heartbeat by  warlocks | 4K

The AU in which, on their 22nd birthday, a person will switch bodies with their soulmate and is left to figure out whom they’re temporarily inhabiting, and how to get back to each other. But because Stiles is Stiles, he forgets that it’s his birthday, and the bodyswap takes him by surprise.

Might Not Make It Back by GotTheSilver | 23.3K | Explicit

Witches. Fucking witches. Stiles was never going to get along with them. Never. Whatever spooky powers Deaton kept alleging he had, kept training him to recognise, witches and Stiles were never going to work in combination. They were oil and water, Scott and an AP class, Lydia and a thrift store. Witches and Stiles were just. No Stiles is mouthy and witches don’t like that, apparently. And, yes, okay, the fact that Stiles is now inhabiting Derek’s body because of a witch possibly has something to do with Stiles’ feelings.

But Moses Supposes Erroneously by  blue_fjords | 21.9K

The Beacon Hills Community Players are putting on “Singin’ in the Rain” and everyone’s trying out. It’s… nice, singing and dancing during a lull in the werewolf action. Complications arise, however, when Derek is introduced as the choreographer and a trickster decides to interfere in the Stilinski men’s somewhat strained relationship.

Two Sides of the Same Mirror by  p1013 | 7.7K

Stiles doesn’t like going to the antiques store so much as he recognizes that it’s something he needs to do periodically. Every once in awhile, though, he’ll find something interesting. A Scientific Study of the Metaphysical Properties of Common Herbs was particularly useful, which he’d found tucked behind another copy of The Lord Of The Rings and some Nora Roberts junk.

Right now, he’s thumbing through a brown and cracked copy of The Werwolfe, or, The Baleful Beast.

In Your Shoes by  yodasyoyo | 3.8K

Sure, Derek’s apartment is kind of spartan and lacking in essentials, like nutritious food, and a decent mattress, and primary colors, but the Camaro more than makes up for it.

Trust Fall by Stoney | 144.2K | Explicit

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it’s pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.

Great. Wait…does this mean he’s the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit.

[batboyblog]

2016 is often considered the point when leftism managed to get itself into the mainstream and became more popular, but I honestly can't help but wonder, given the sheer descent into conspiracy theory and selfish cruelty of the current state, whether in hindsight it was actually leftism's step into decline.

I've been thinking about this a lot, sadly I'm getting the start of a Migraine, so the edges of my thoughts are all fuzzy so idk if I'll be able to do what I think justice, but lets try.

The human mind doesn't really like complexity, it'd a pattern recognition machine built to find food and stuff that thinks you're food in the African brush. So we like to find patterns and lump stuff together, its hardwired in.

so "Leftism" I do understand what you mean, but I think it covers a really wide area.

and I think in politics we like to assign ideological and policy logic to things to political movements, it has to be about a coherent and rational ideology and world view we think. But... I think, often times it's emotional as much as anything. Did people vote for JFK or Reagan so much for policy as they, personally in their person, seemed to be the antidote to what was wrong in the moment? JFK seemed young and energetic when compared to an elderly and ill President Eisenhower, Reagan had the claiming aging leading man energy to make everyone feel like it'd be okay, a movie cowboy to lead us against bad guys we didn't understand while nice guy Jimmy Carter seemed stuck.

So back to 2016, I think there was so real ideology to start. The Left of the Democratic Party felt empowered after 2006, the left of the party had been against the Iraq War from the jump and that turned into the organizing issue that pushed Republicans out of power in 2006. A San Fran liberal, founding member of the House Progressive Cause was the first woman Speaker (and in favor of gay marriage too). In 2008 the Left of the party for largely emotional reasons sided with Obama over Clinton, even though they largely overlapped on policy and where there were (minor) differences she was to his left.

so riding high from two back to back wins, having gotten a lot of progressives elected to the House and Senate (like Bernie Sanders) progressive Dems were pretty let down by the real results, the ACA got bogged down and their dearest wish list item, the public option, which Pelosi fought for so hard, failed to make it into the final bill, and then 2010, a blood bath. And understandably there's been some frustration with Obama for not living up to the hype and also failing to really focus on state level races, Democrats got tarred hard

BUT! there's also an emotional side, Occupy Wall Street. I remember at the time being interested in it, I was young and more radical, but soon I got really frustrated because they had no demands, I watched every night MSNBC which was very sympathetic, but no one could articulate what it is they wanted, past a vague idea of "punish" the guilty.

I think there's a lot of restless frustration, some of it grounded and based in reality some of it not, in this country and its only grown over time as well as a contempt for and a break down of any kind of respect for experts and norms any anything established.

SO! I think that emotion latched onto Bernie and the left of the Democratic Party. As someone who worked that election I can tell you, at first knocking doors in New Hampshire, I got the taste of the very start of the campaign. And people would say "oh I'm voting for Bernie now, but I'll vote for Hillary in the general" but soon it went from friendly, from "we're pushing her to the left" to something bitter and angry. I had Bernie supporters tell me 1990s Fox News conspiracy theories around the Clintons, I had a Bernie supporter (in the general election) follow two college girl volunteers for blocks back to our office to SCREAM at us all.

Bernie won the New Hampshire Primary pretty commandingly that year, and partly because he had a strong volunteer network. But in the general despite many efforts we could barely get any of his regular volunteers to come work with us against Trump. I remember one lady who showed up just once and looked RIP SHIT! to be there, I think she said that all the positive stuff we said about Clinton, at a canvass launch for Clinton, made her "sick" and "don't expect me to say anything nice about her!" and she was one of only a tiny number of Bernie people who showed up in the general so she was better than some.

I remember the only Bernie Volunteer we got to become a regular. He'd knocked doors for months in New Hampshire for Bernie, organized his own phone bank into Nevada for their primary, drove down to South Carolina and spent the week before their primary knocking. Clearly a true believer, and when he decided to volunteer with us they kicked him out of the Facebook group he started and stopped speaking to him. I'll always remember what he said, that around the Bernie office they used to say that "a Trump voter was just a Bernie voter who hasn't been educated yet"

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, there were real motivations of the progressives and the left of the party, real policy based frustrations, particularly around how health care worked out, and I think Bernie Sanders himself was running because of that and to express that. But it tapped into something else, something not really political and much more emotional, rage and bitterness and a need to punish, the same energizes Trump taps into. It made a permission to be nasty to people you don't like, particularly women, I won't repeat the things people said on the phones, horrible.

now in 2024, almost 10 years later, there's a lot more depression mixed in, Trump talks about America as a 3rd world country all the time, there's just a vibe of having given up, hopelessness. There's a genocide and everything is horrible and hopeless and give up and die.

I don't believe in giving up, I don't believe in bitterness, I'm not a sunny person in real life, but I believe the point of politics, the politics I'm a part of, is lifting people up. It might be corny and uncool, but I believe in America, not that we're prefect, no, we're not, but together we've done great things, we fought a world war and went to the moon, and we can do great things together still always if we believe in each other, build each other up, stop being so afraid and weak and sad. I want to be beat fascism again, I want to go to the moon again, I want to beat climate change, and finally finally make the promise that all men are created equal REAL, and I don't believe in hiding behind walls, and crying that we can't do it any more, fuck that shit.

[minniiaa]

LawLu hc - Franky built Luffy captain's quarters that he only uses when Law stays over.

YES. Any in-universe OP fic of mine (and a lot of other fic writers) will most definitely have a captain's quarters that Luffy reserves just for his tired emo babygirl (Law).

Ever since they set sail on the Merry, Luffy has slept in the men's quarters. They didn't have a Captain's Quarters back then because there wasn't enough space but Luffy never cared because he hates sleeping alone.

When he was a kid, he always had Ace and Sabo to sleep with but after Ace left on his journey, Luffy had to sleep by himself and he hated how quiet and cold it was without them. Once he was finally able to travel with his crew, nothing made Luffy happier than being able to sleep with his friends again. Sometimes they even let him cuddle with them at night which is Luffy's favorite thing to do with the people he cares about. When Franky was building the Merry, he offered to build Luffy a captain's quarters but he denied saying that he'd rather sleep with his friends.

Then Law comes aboard after Punk Hazard and Luffy couldn't understand why he would never sleep in the men's quarters with him and instead chose to sleep on the deck in the cold. Law refuses to tell him and it drives Luffy crazy because he wants to cuddle with Law so bad. He tries to go on the deck and snuggle with Law but everytime he does, Law shambles him halfway across the ship with no explanation.

Their relationship progresses into something much different than what Luffy has with his crewmates and after much pestering, he finally gets Law to admit that the two-fold reason why he won't sleep with the rest of the men is that he often has nightmares from his dark past which embarrasses him and he also isn't part of their crew so sleeping with them would make it seem like he's accepting that he's no longer captain of his own ship and just one of their nakama like Luffy claims he us.

Luffy thinks this is ridiculous so he secretly has Franky build him that Captain's Quarters he offered before. Franky does, repurposing a random closet of junk into a small but perfect Captain's Quarters. On the night it's done, Luffy drags Law through the new door that suddenly appeared, shoving him on the bed, crawling in next to him, and wrapping his arms around him so tight that Law can't escape.

Law is not sure if he's most confused as to how this new bedroom just materialized seemingly out of thin air on the day they stopped at a supply island or why Strawhat is now alone in bed with him, nuzzling against his neck and holding him against his body. Luffy declares that it's the Captain's Quarters and he had Franky build it so they could have a room for just the two of them. That way Law doesn't have to worry about his nightmares or what anyone else thinks.

Law points out that it's still the Captain's Quarters and Luffy is the Captain and Luffy snaps back with "Well you're a Captain so that makes it your quarters too. It doesn't say which Captain it belongs to," and Law can't argue with that ridiculous but sound logic that only Luffy could come up with.

Law accepts his fate, relaxing in Luffy's arms, realizing that it's been so long since he was able to just curl up under the blankets with someone else. He feels all warm and fuzzy, not only because Luffy is like a space heater, but also because he realizes his alliance mate did all this just so he could have a space he feels comfortable at night. From that day on, he sleeps with Luffy in their room. It does mortify him when Strawhat tells other people that they sleep together every night but at that point, Luffy's already decided that they're dating and he knows there's nothing he can do.

After Law leaves the crew, the room remains and Luffy only uses it when Law comes to visit him, never allowing anyone else to sleep in 'Him and Torao's room'.

or

Luffy just wanted a room where he could fuck Law nasty so he has Franky build one and suddenly the Captain of the Thousand Sunny has his own personal sex dungeon for him and his boyfriend.

[writing-until-i-drop]

Nudes (Double Penetration Pt.2) | Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x reader | wc: 709

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! oral (fem receiving), masturbation, taking nudes, dirty talk, dom!Phoenix, lmk if I missed anything

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Hanging out with Natasha had become more frequent since she had joined you and Jake in bed. Jake was more than okay with it, he was over the moon with excitement every time you brought up hanging out with her, and even said that he wouldn’t mind if you fooled around with her as long as he got pictures. 

Something Natasha had been eager to do. 

“You look so good, sweet girl,” Natasha praised, snapping polaroids of you laying on the bed in red lingerie. A matching set to the one she had been wearing when she fucked your brains out. “Rub your pussy for me.” There was no hesitation or shame as you ran your hand down the front of your body slowly, putting on a show for her as she snapped photo after photo.

“You know,” You moaned as you rubbed yourself over the tiny, lace panties, “You know what I really want?” 

“What, baby?” Your fingers slipped beneath the lace, gliding through the slick heat between your folds so easily, finding your clit without trouble. Natasha took another photo, your back arching off the bed.

“I want you to fuck me with your big cock again,” Natasha hummed in approval, dark eyes meeting yours. You knew she wanted it just as badly. The way she licked her bottom lip, staring at you like a predator looks at its prey. You slipped a finger inside yourself, rocking your hips into your palm. “Want to feel you stretching me out while I cum.” 

“Fuck, baby, what does Hangman do when you spew all that filth? Take off your bra,” You paused your ministrations long enough to toss the lace garment to Natasha’s feet.

“The real question is, what are you going to do about it?” The truth was you were shy about talking dirty with Jake, which wasn’t an issue because Jake had a dirty enough mouth for the both of you. There was just something about Natasha that pulled it out of you. Natash arched a brow at you, taking a few more pictures as you played with your nipples and pussy.

“Watch your mouth, sweet girl, or I’m going to give you something to do with it.” The thought of her doing anything to you only made you wetter, which in turn switched off the logical part of your brain. You raised your slick fingers to your mouth, sucking on them.

“That’s a lot of talk for someone who hasn’t even touched me yet.” You knew you were in for it when she put down the camera and began silently stripping off her clothes. When she was naked she crawled over you, kissing up your body.

“I know a better way for you to put that mouth to use if you want to be my good girl. You want to be my good girl, don’t you?” You nodded, running your hands over her body, loving the way her smooth skin felt beneath your fingertips.

“I want to be your good girl.” Natasha rewarded you with a sweet kiss that had your head going fuzzy but the feeling was nothing compared to when she manuevered herself to hover over your face, slowly lowering her pussy down onto your waiting mouth. 

You had never eaten a girl out before but you were eager to please, licking and sucking like it was your one mission in life. Natasha ground her hips down, rocking herself over your mouth, her moans filling the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. The fact that Jake would be turned on when you told him about this later just made it ten times hotter.

“So good, fuck,” Natasha moaned as you thrust your tongue inside her, relishing the taste of her coating your lips. You finally understood why Jake loved eating you out so much as the closer Natasha came to her climax, her thighs trembling around your head. “I’m gonna cum,” Natasha whined. You gripped her hips, pulling her down tight over your mouth as you brought her over the edge.  

When Natasha climbed off of you she grabbed her camera, taking a picture of you half naked on the bed, her juices covering your face. That one turned out to be Jake’s favorite.

Taglist: @wanderingsoul6261 @halflifejess @kyemna @alipap3 @yutangwl @teacupsandtopgun @glenpowellluver @closetspngirl @that-one-fangirl69 @starshinegrl @sarah-bear706318 @shanimallina87 @atuman @carolina-on-my-mind03 @winelover27 @cherrycola27 @cevansbaby-dove @glenpowellsvline @runawaybaby3 @helloitzholly @bigstrongblackheart

[rowanthestrange]

Poppy was always Real theory:

So there’s someone here with a theory that Belinda ALWAYS had a child to go back to. We do primary investigation in this house, so while it sounds like there might be an associated video, I’m not watching it, barely read the post, because if this holds water we should be able to get to it from that concept alone.

Hypothesis: Belinda ALWAYS was supposed to have a child to go back to, and we STARTED in a wonky reality where she didn’t.

Starting with the obvious: If so, that would be poorly signposted. Agree. However would fit with my reasoning as to why the additional pickups were needed: that it was simply that because of the delays, which would end up with future filming being potentially two years later than planned, the actress for Poppy was now going to age out of the role, and they had to hastily wrap up her story instead of following the original plan. And in my opinion it’s notable that they chose to rush add an ending for her with Belinda, where the obvious answer is…she just disappeared. That’s fine. So therefore it was theme relevant enough to go and film a whole thing for it in light of being unable to have the extra episodes to resolve it otherwise. Poppy being with Belinda at the end mattered more to the Themes than just leaving her as a thing that vanished.

With that being said, I think it would make sense to analyse this through the lens of an intention of a two series plot, where the result of an entire second series plot/subplot would have to be crushed into whatever pickup shots you could do to fit in whatever ending space you had available. (Which is why if he did do this, that was obviously going to be stupid and risky — no matter how much he loves a risk — without a greenlight. Though of course I blame the BBC entirely for its decision to remove our funding and so leave us to the Disney wolves in the first place. Personally? If I had to, I think I’d take the risk of audience confusion (and potential allegations of racism) and found a similar enough looking kid to recast. Okay she’s had closeups but certainly it’ll be fuzzy for any casual viewer in a year or so, and anyone catching up later all in one go could probably make the logical leap. But I’m not in TV and I’d trust a more experienced person to their call.

My points are in a non-specific order, just labelling them for ease of discussion/rebuttal.

a) Mundy does end up looking after a child. However, that child is also not her own, which feels more fitting with ‘reality rewritten for Poppy rather than her always being the case. Both Mundy and Poppy have Same Face Syndrome (though Poppy going all the way to her name - also significant as it does mean remembrance.)

b) What would have made the reality wonky? The Doctor mentions there was already a Time Schism (Edit: Fracture) that he’d “closed”. We did note this as weird. We know something glitchy went on.

c) While we get no talk of children, in Robot Revolution, we do have the Weird Schrödinger’s Baby-Cat. 

d) Lux does have a key plot point of a woman whose child has gone missing. Who also in a fake reality shopped the Doctor to the police. Mirroring works.

e) The Well. We have a woman alleging she desperately needs to go home to get back to her child.

f) In the Story And The Engine we get a glimpse of Poppy herself. Perhaps the glitch could also be from the reality where Poppy existed.

g) Wish World and The Reality War give us Poppy there. And the Doctor is suddenly very convinced that Poppy is REAL. We don’t really understand what that meant beyond him wishing really hard.

h) Hypothetically then, the original Reality War final ~15 minutes, would have been them going back to what we think was reality, Belinda maybe thinking something’s missing, maybe we get some Poppy glitches noticed by her or Ruby. We are left with the characters uncertain but the audience more sure that actually we’re still in a rewritten reality: hence the teal etc, this reality is still wrong. But it’s ultimately for a future episode that we dig into the fact that reality wasn’t right even from the beginning.

Is this enough?

I think it’s possible. However, if true, I think you could have done better with the introduction. A sign she’s already feeling like she’s missing something in her life, maybe she interacts with a kid patient in the hospital, maybe she gets a bit babytalky with people and she catches herself and apologises etc.

There are also some counters which aren’t just handwaveable by saying they’re trying to make the reveal not too signposted (which is stupid to do btw). Like we see Belinda’s descendant. Now you could argue that maybe that’s a ‘for’ because it happened last series if you believe the shift came after that, but then we still have the scene of the Doctor genetically compare them in what should presumably be the Poppyless world. Would it be possible she just has a kid later, sure, but why would you include a thing that confirms she has a descendant in a story that’s about how her child disappeared? The natural way to write it would be that he goes to compare and then can’t find Mundy’s information anymore. Which would serve the double feature of ‘is she literally Mundy and has lost her memories’, but also by logical conclusion deletes ANOTHER child from the story.

And I stand by my reasoning paragraphs of why you might change the story because you literally have to due to actor age, but…assuming we all understand how this is supposed to more or less mirror the Doctor’s child in future… I think it would be just as valid to show us the option where she is written out of reality. An ending where Belinda does feel that something’s wrong and missing, but in the end just goes about her life as a doctor nurse. I don’t think she needs to have the opposite ‘good’ ending, it can be a straight mirror. Obviously I can’t truly know cus I haven’t seen his future plans, but I think I’d prioritise ultimate coherence over original intention, even if it leaves with the opposite end. Polar Opposite and Same endings both work meta-thematically.

(Though to note, he clearly does work with the darkness that this ending adds - you needn’t have Belinda’s last words be saying she feels like she’s missing something otherwise. So if this theory is the case, it wasn’t just taking an ending from series ‘3’ and just slotting it in. It knows what it looks like and is willing to work with it.)

I suppose the only difference that this might make would be saying that we’ve been operating in Reality2 all along rather than Reality1, but this change now puts us in Reality1. But…I just don’t think it’s that necessary? Especially if there’s going to be 4th wall breaks and all sorts. I can’t imagine that difference can be too stark story-wise if it hasn’t caused us major problems til now. Unless it /has/ and Ruby now doesn’t exist or something, but honestly, I feel like you could handwave that. Cus as it stands the audience interprets us as being in a new rewritten reality, not reality prime anyway, even if that was the intention, so you’re not getting what you want either way.

I understand the belief you could maybe wrap this up in some reshoots before she gets too old, but I think that was the devil talking. That was the peril of going for subtlety and believing you had time to delicately build up the layers, nope, needed to go in with more coverage from the start cus it turns out you only have a few hours to paint this room, not days. And you could have forseen that because you know the owner of the house is fickle and refused to pay you for your work before. Now the wall’s all patchy. Poorly executed.

I think at the moment, without some more meta behind it (that is an invitation by the way), that I come down as saying that is a Valid interpretation. However it isn’t enough to say that the main interpretation that Poppy is just created wholesale and slotted into a new reality with Belinda is Wrong. As the story currently stands, I think both reads are acceptable.

Schrödinger’s reality.

[deityoftherain]

sleepy snuggle struggle - skizzpulse oneshot

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63751594

Rating: Gen

Relationship: M/M

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 1,503

Summary: Skizz is a hot sleeper, and every once in a while, Skizz wakes up sweating in the middle of the night because the server is experiencing the summer heat and Impulse is glued to them like he's trying to hibernate in the dead of winter. Curse his code for making him run so hot because his husband is just so stinking cute, he could never deny him his well-deserved sleepy snuggles.

Little happy fluffy skizzpulse gift for @v1neyy <33

Full oneshot is included under the cut for your convince, so please kudos/like, comment, and/or reblog so I get some of that sweet sweet external validation >:D

One thing no one told Skizz about having a netherborn husband before they got together or even became best friends was the juxtaposition of a netherborn’s sleeping tendencies.

The two laid together in their shared bed, Impulse’s arms wrapped around Skizz’s torso with his face buried against Skizz’s left pec. Their legs were intertwined, so much so that Skizz barely knew which were his own and which were Impulse’s. Granted, he was still half-unconscious for he had just blinked awake, but still! The limbs must have lost some circulation while they slept, and any attempts to move them risked waking Impulse, and obviously he couldn’t have that.

Besides, waking sleeping limbs tended to lead to blood rushing to heat the affected skin while pins and needles attacked his muscles in the most annoyingly agonizing way it could think of. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, to put it lightly, and Skizz would rather walk barefoot in snow. At least his feet go numb when exposed to the frigid Overworld powder.

Impulse had a few layers of fuzzy blankets draped overtop of him to help insulate the heat his body did produce, but he had also insisted on Skizz’s wing wrapping around him too. He had confessed to liking it when he was completely surrounded by Skizz, and, well… who was Skizz to deny his amazing husband of that? 

Plus, Skizz rather enjoyed being able to hold Impulse close with the white feathers if not his arms themselves, even if it meant someone laying down on the occasionally-sensitive feathers. It wasn’t too bad as long as he kept up with preening, and Impulse never let him go more than a week before confronting Skizz’s avoidance and procrastination.

See, Dipple-Dop’s preferred sleeping environment wouldn’t be too bad if he were a typical Player, but Skizz had always run on the warmer side when it came to his internal temperature. This meant that he didn’t get as cold as his mortal counterparts and his code wasn’t as developed in terms of natural regulation for it hadn’t needed to when he was up in the Heavens. 

While his friends of Overworld origin bundled up in the dead of winter, Skizz would walk around comfortably in shorts and a sleeveless top. When he first fell from the Heavens and gained Player status, it had taken him a bit to get used to the fact that most other beings required external warmth to avoid freezing to death.

Back then, back when Skizz met Impulse, he had assumed that, being from the warmest dimension known to Players, Impulse would be similar to him. Impulse could take a dip into lava with no issue, and, on first glance, anyone would guess that he simply radiated heat. Was it that big of a leap in logic to think he would also run warm? Especially when Tango Top– a blazeborn also from the Nether– was practically a living furnace, especially with the flame on his head?

Apparently so because Skizz had assumed wrong. Crazy, right?

Impulse’s internal temperature was quite cold, his code adapted to accept the constant boiling temperatures of the Nether without consequence to his body. Since he became a Player in his own right, entering the Overworld full-time to join the rest of their friends, the function that had once been an asset became maladapted. Skizz supposed it made more sense why Impulse often opted for more layers than Skizz ever did when they changed their skins to suit whatever server they were messing around with at the time.

The soft hum of a redstone fan’s blades whirling filled the room, accompanied by Impulse’s gentle snores. Most Players couldn’t even hear it, but Skizz’s ears have always worked better than his peers’. Skizz wouldn’t dare complain, though. He quite liked the background noise paired with the little sleepy sounds Impulse made unknowingly.

The fan was directed so its breeze brushed against the bare skin of his face and neck to avoid his fallen angel body from overheating as badly as it once had. That was a rough period of fevers and previously unexplained exhaustion that Skizz would rather forget. Impulse made the redstone device for Skizz far before they were married, as the two had always been a cuddly duo even when they were simply platonic. Gemstone– one of their friends– had always teased them about it, only growing more smug when she was proven right.

Skizz hadn’t meant to confess his discomfort, but Impulse overheard Skizz offhandedly mention the issue to a fellow Player one day, claiming that he hadn’t been sleeping well when they cuddled due to the extra heat Impulse required. Impulse didn’t grow upset or complain about Skizz’s comments to another Player instead of him, and, instead, he went to fix the issue! That moment was one of many that aided in Skizz’s realization that he was lucky to have such a great homie buddy. Skizz more than appreciated the effort and care Impulse infused into the device a lot, understanding that the action was much more than simply the tangible fan itself.

The unfortunate thing was that, even with the fan, he still tended to overheat some nights, especially when the general outside temperature was warmer than usual. The heat would then cause Skizz to wake up with his clothes just a little sticker with sweat than before. Still, he didn’t complain, simply using the half-conscious time in the middle of the night to smile gratefully down at his husband’s sleeping face. Skizz didn’t know where he would be without him. Impulse was the first to help him when he first fell.

Dipple-Dop looked so peaceful as he slept, even with his face squished against Skizz’s chest and a little drool trickling out the corner of his lips. His brown hair was a mess and the curled posture in which he slept was honestly atrocious, but Skizz couldn’t help but find any “fault” of his absolutely endearing.

Skizz gingerly brushed a few stray pieces of hair out of Impulse’s face, not wanting anything to obscure his view until his lover shifted in his sleep again. He bit down on his tongue in an attempt to be quiet, knowing that cooing over his husband may wake him, which isn’t what Skizz wanted. Instead, Skizz redirected the surge of adoration that demanded action within him by leaning toward Impulse to press a chaste kiss against the top of his forehead, a spot just below his hairline and right between his horns.

Impulse squirmed a little when Skizz’s cheek accidentally brushed a horn. He froze, watching Impulse’s face carefully to see if he would open his eyes. Fortunately, he didn’t. Instead, his nose scrunched as if mildly peeved for a moment as he twisted to bury his face against Skizz’s chest again. Impulse muffled a snore against Skizz’s torso, and he couldn’t resist giggling at how cute he was. Void, how Skizz loved him.

A large yawn forced itself out of Skizz’s mouth, leading Skizz to squeeze his eyelids together as he pushed his shoulders backward to stretch his upper back. He smacked his lips together a few times before using his free hand to rub crusties or whatever that gunk was from his eyes. 

During these quiet moments, these little bubbles stuck in time, Skizz would occasionally forget that it was indeed the middle of the night and that he needed rest as much as Impulse did. He couldn’t just stay awake until the sun started to rise peering down at his lover!

Skizz tried not to move too quickly as he reoriented himself, not wanting to risk waking Impulse with him. He even held his breath for maximum efficiency, the thought making him feel better even if it didn’t actually work that way. Skizz allowed his eyelashes to flutter shut for the last time that early morning as he tugged his heat absorbent of a husband closer to his chest. He idly scratched his fingers in Impulse’s hair as he silently commanded his limbs to relax.

Was he a little hotter than he would like to be, hotter than he would be if he were sleeping by himself?

Sure, yeah, of course. 

Would he rather be alone then? 

No way, dude! 

Skizz would much rather sleep beside Impulse any day, even if it meant no actual sleep for him– even if it gave him a fever! Not that that had happened in a very long time–

Cough, anyway– 

Skizz would much rather sleep beside his husband every day than sleep by himself, no matter what the outcome may be.

Impulse’s unconscious form was just as stinking cute as awake Impulse was, and Skizz was never one to pass up an excuse to gaze lovingly at husband nor trace his features with his eyes, if not, his finger. They’d been together for forever, and Skizz was more than content to spend an eternity more by his side, however long that would be for them.

If you got all the way to the end, please consider reblogging this post, kudosing/liking the fic, and commenting on the ao3 fic itself, thank you <333

[yjdrabbles123]

Hi hi!! If you were interested, I would absolutely love to see a fic of little!tai !! Maybe struggling to sleep and needing lots of reassurance from Van? But whatever you’d like to write! No pressure though <33

For you, always! I'm sorry this wasn't my best but i wanted to give you something!

‘Breathe with me, baby-’

Tai knows she needs to explain to Van that she’s not a baby- not in the whiney way that Mari insist’s she isn’t a baby when anyone dares suggest she might need help tying her shoes but in the way that she isn’t because she can’t be.

She looks after everyone- she keeps things together. Who will keep everything going if she isn’t?

But when she tries to explain this, she just starts sobbing and Van is looking at her so gently, as if she’s not spoiling things, as if she’s not pathetic and stupid for being in such a state over bedtime of all things.

‘Come here, sweetheart.’

Van manouvers Tai gently so that Van’s warm front is pressed against Tai’s back. She can feel her breath, warm on her neck, and Van’s arms around her, warm and sturdy and Van’s chest rising and falling and it’s so stupid that she’s being treated to tenderly when all that Van even did was ask if Tai was coming to bed.

She can’t come to bed. If she comes to bed Van will notice that she’s not sleeping, which is why she’s been on the couch for the past three nights, flicking through fuzzy latenight tv and trying not to cry.

She’s so tired. Her head hurts and her eyes hurt and i’s making her awful, she knows it, but she can’t help it: she’s just somehow so angry with them all.

No not angry, jealous. Jealous that they can fall asleep safely without worrying they’ll wake up half way down the garden or in the road.

Ok, so only the first one has happened, and not since Van had the electronic locks put on the doors….but she still wakes up in the kitchen, the hallway, the utility room, shivering and cold and so scared, even though logically she knows that it’s just their house.

Still, part of her wants to just cry and cry until Van hears her and comes to rescue her….

Maybe that’s what she’s doing now.

Van doesn’t ask her what’s wrong- perhaps Tai starting to hyperventilate when Van mentioned sleeping was kind of a clue, but she’s always been patient like that, even though Tai has been freaking out for ages, even though she should be with the others.

She tries to express that but she’s hicupping over her words.

Van understand though- she always does, she’s always had a sixth sense for knowing how to translate panicky choked noises into plain English- and shakes her head.

‘Baby, they’re fine. I promise. Everyone is fine. The most important thing right now- the ONLY thing I care about is looking after you.’ Van pauses, wiping a tear away with her fingers. ‘I don’t think I’ve been doing a great job of that lately, have I sweetheart? I should have noticed- Anyway-’ Van cuts herself off. ‘Helping you feel better is ALL I care about. The only thing. Ok?’

She can’t nod or agree but she doesn’t disagree either so maybe Van takes that as a win.

‘So here’s the plan-’ It almost makes Tai smile: this is what Van used to say to her when she was stressing out over exams and applications and tournaments, when she used to coax Tai into taking care of herself. ‘We’re going to stay cuddling like this for a little bit longer, ok? And then we’re going to go upstairs and I’m going to bring you some water and a snack- something nice and light, I promise- because don’t think I didn’t notice you skip dinner.’

Tai blushes- she HADN’T realised van had noticed but her stomach was too tight with anxiety to stomach the casserole on her plate.

‘Then we’re going to run you a nice hot bath and help you get all warm and relaxed. And-’ Van lowers her voice conspiratorially. ‘I have it on good authority that Jackie has some new bubble bath that she mighttt be open to letting you borrow…’

It’s weird because Van is talking as if Tai cant take her own bath. And Jackie’s new bubble bath has My Little Pony on the bottle. Why would Tai want that?

Except….well the thought of letting Van take charge over running the bath and being there in case her fingers are too shaky for buttons which they have been all day….well that sounds nice. And a part of her does like the idea of using Jackie’s bubble bath, even if its got ponies on it. Maybe BECAUSE its got ponies on it….?

‘And then we’re going to tuck you up in bed and you’re going to listen to me reading one of your really boring textbooks to you,’ Van goes on. ‘And it’s ok if you can’t fall asleep,’ she adds quickly. ‘We’re just going to work on your feeling relaxed in bed again, ok? No stress.’

She could laugh because there definitely is SOME stress in not sleeping out of anxiety of what you’ll do….but also she’s just so relieved at how good all that sounds that she kind of feels like she’s going to cry again.

Except…

‘V-van….’ How does she feel shy? It’s Van, why does she feel so anxious, why is she blushing?

‘Yeah baby?’ Van’s voice is so soft, so gentle, like she’s wrapping Tai up in her love with words.

‘I- um…’ It’s hard to say.

‘What is it sweetheart?’ Van leans closer, her ear almost at Tai’s mouth. ‘You can whisper if it’s easier-’

That’s almost more embarrassing than what she wanted to ask but still-

‘Um…canImaybe…canIhaveastory? I-instead, I mean…’

Her face is on fire as it takes Van a second to make sense of her words. To her infinity relief, Van doesn’t laugh or even smirk, just nods and draws Tai into her arms, cuddling her close. ‘Oh baby. Of course you can.’