#I don't make these tags consciously like I don't make them for these types of posts later down the line

[annerbhp]

If you would but indulge this fandom elder for a few moments, I'd like to point out a few things that I think can make all of our fannish experiences on this hellsite (affectionate) so much more joyful.

Try not to treat yourself or others as "content-providers."

This happens when you allow yourself to be influenced by real or imagined expectations and demands of others. "But I know people want..." "But people would expect me to..." "But they might not like it if I..." "It's been too long since I've written/posted anything..." "What if people get upset if I..." These are the joy killers. The only questions you should ask yourself when posting stuff to tumblr (or not) is "does this bring me joy right now?" and "would this cause harm?" That's it. You can also tag liberally so people can block stuff if they want. That's also a nice thoughtful thing to do. But try not to let the nebulous concept of "people"--your followers, your readers, the internet at large, or whatever--become a bogeyman in your own head. Most of us already have enough internal critics trying to trip us up at any given moment. Try not to invent more.

Treating others as "content-providers" happens if you send asks or comments to someone on this site demanding more content of a specific type, or insinuating that you are entitled to something from that person. You are communicating to that person that they only have value as a content-provider, and only when providing whatever it is you want. This is dehumanizing and ignores the thousands of reasons that person might choose to be here. Tumblr is not a subscription service. No one is paying for anything here. Most people here are just doing stuff that makes them joyful and we are lucky enough that sometimes they share it with us too!

2. Fandom is not a marriage.

The concept of "being in a fandom" is actually incredibly nebulous, as it should be! There is nothing you need to do or declare to be "in a fandom." There is no minimum threshold of love, or time, or interaction, or "production." It's just a feeling. A place. A space that brings joy. (And sometimes, heartbreak, but that's another topic all together.)

Fandom is also not a marriage. You can't cheat on a fandom. You do not have to have formal divorce proceedings and let go of one fandom before messing around with another one. There's no such thing as fandom infidelity. Neither is fandom a job. You don't have to give two weeks' notice. You don't have to post public intent on the town hall. You're not banned once you step out, never to return. You can "take a break" without any moral implications or risk of becoming the focus of a pop culture debate about whether or not you were justified to mess around with another fandom during that time. You can leave a fandom and never go back, all without having to consciously decide to do so. You can fall out of love with a fandom and then fall back in love with it later. It's not a marriage/job! There are no rules!

3. Take ownership and curate your own experience.

If there is a thing, or a blog, or a person who once brought you joy, but on balance no longer does, or makes you more disappointed or annoyed or upset than not, you do not have to keep interacting with them/it. Following someone on tumblr is also not a marriage. You can follow/unfollow as you like, no harm, no foul. It's just curating your personal joy, and I hope we will always wish each other the best with that. If you are scared of "missing out on something," then you will either need to block tags enough to make it enjoyable, or decide unfollowing is worth the risk if it makes you too unhappy to keep following!

The ultimate thing is, it's up to you to curate your fannish experience. It is not up to the person you are following to change to fit your expectations or hopes. (See point #1.) You can feel ways about this, of course! But those are your feelings, which are yours to handle. Do not put them on the other person. Do not send them asks demanding things or lashing out. It won't make you feel better and it definitely won't get you what you are looking for, unless your actual aim is to kill the joy of another person so you are not upset alone. In that case I'm not sure what to tell you other than you might want to spend some time meditating on that one and think about if that's really the kind of person you want to be. Or if this kind of space is actually good for you.

That's it for now. Thank you for indulging me. Don't be a dick on the internet, friends. Take no shit and do no harm. Take care of yourselves! 💕

[spacebarbarianweird]

@ramlightly graciously let me write a fic based on this comic. Check it out, it's so cool!

"Dominate Person" is a nasty spell that can fully submit a humanoid to your power. It's unclear if the victim has self-consciousness in the moment but since it's possible to throw Wisdom saving rolls I think you can feel that you are controlled.

Thanks @bhaalbaaby for beta-reading!

Puppet Master

Synopsis: Astarion is enchanted by the "Dominate Person" spell and almost kills Tav.

Tags: angst, comfort

TW: A description of physical violence

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion wants to move. To hide in the shadows and shoot the necromancer from there.

You are surrounded, but you keep doing your work.

But he can't.

His body is paralyzed, and he feels a wave of panic. 

No, not this. Not "Hold Person"!

He can't do this. He can't make it.

Paralysis is like being sealed in a tomb with too little space to move. Helpless, voiceless.

What if something happens to you when he is like this?

"Astarion, use your daggers!"

Is it you? Or one of the adventurers you've teamed up this morning to kick necromancers out of the town?

Astarion just has to wait. The spell wears off when the spellcaster is down. Or a healer manages to find a way to get rid of the invisible chains.

Or...

USE THE DAGGER

The voice is intimidating, too loud, and too powerful.

It's like the Cazador's voice in his head again. Suppressing. Ordering. Torturing.

No, no...

Astarion feels his hand move toward the dagger. The strings make him move.

It's not "Hold Person".

It's "Dominate Person".

Full control of the victim. The voice your body cannot resist. You become one of them, fighting for them.

Murdering your loved ones.

KILL

Astarion rushes forward to you. To the only person he loves and cares about. The only person in the entire world who has never hurt him.

"Astarion! Help me! Astarion, what's wrong?"

Astarion pushes you into the ground with all his newfound vampiric strength.

No, no, please, stop it!

MURDER THEM

The dagger stabs through your stomach, causing an internal rupture. The second dagger wounds your chest.

You stare at him in pain, in silent prayer. You watch your lover killing you.

Blood. So much blood. Your blood.

A strong hand pulls Astarion from you, but it's not enough.

Astarion has an order from his new master.

To kill you. To make sure you are dead.

It is the worst type of dissociation. He is just an observer.

His hands rip you apart as if you are a prey he's found in the woods. Your eyes are full of terror and pain.

VAMPIRE, DRINK THE BLOOD.

No, no, I won't do it. I don't take the blood without consent... NO!

His fangs pierce into your neck, taking the blood non-stop. To satiate him, to let him feel alive.

And to drain you.

He is less than a slave. A puppet. With his locked mind in agony.

CRUSH THE SKULL

Astarion grabs a handful of your hair to smash you against a stone. Your body is motionless. Broken. Almost dead.

And then...

The agony of death pierces the mind. It's an acid flare of horror - too familiar for the undead.

It happened to him once, many years ago. When he was killed by Cazador and revived as a vampire spawn.

That's how death feels.

But he isn't dying. More than this, his body is his again.

Astarion stands up, feeling the nightmare wearing off.

Your body lies on the ground in blood and gore.

Astarion falls to his knees, his hands shaking.

And yells.

**

You wake up, your body sore and in terrible pain.

Astarion.

Your mind reacts with a panic attack - a near-death experience causing mental anguish. Your body remembers how Astarion jumped on you with his daggers.

How he ripped your throat.

How he almost crushed your skull.

You try to collect yourself. "Dominate Person". One of the nastiest spells necromancers know. Create a humanoid puppet and make them kill their friends and loved ones. While they silently scream, locked in their minds.

Some people never recover from that. Offing themselves, not being capable of dealing with what they did.

Damn, and what did it do to Astarion? It's what happened to him during his enslavement. Orders impossible to resist.

You want to call for him, but your body refuses to act. It remembers.

His hands, his fangs.

And his eyes in such desperation you've never seen.

Before you manage to collect yourself again, you fall into oblivion.

**

Astarion is silent.

His nails pierce his scalp. His teeth are clenched. His eyes open wide as he stares at the wall.

The companions who murdered the necromancers ignore him, but he doesn't feel any hostility.

Just a spell. It happens.

"Astarion... Is this your name, right?" a young fighter approaches him. "You need to take a bath."

Astarion looks at himself. His clothes are covered in blood. Your blood.

"Tav will be fine. We have good healers here. Don't blame yourself."

As if enchanted again, Astarion walks away. In silence, he locks himself in the bathroom - a small wooden room with a tub full of hot water. But instead of putting off the dirty clothes, he submerges himself fully clothed.

The fabric clings to the body, and Astarion hugs his knees. The blood mixes with water.

His back hurts as if his scars are bleeding.

He doesn't know how long he spends there. An hour? A day? A week? The water is cold. but he can't care less still hearing your cries.

The door creaks, and he notices familiar soft steps.

"Astarion? Are you alright?"

He can't look at you. Can't make himself. Can't witness the damage he caused.

"I almost killed you, and you ask how I am doing?" his voice breaks.

"The necromancer almost killed me," you say firmly. "Not you. Hey, look at me!"

Your head is heavily bandaged. There are bruises all over your face, and he knows there is much more evidence of his violence below your shirt and trousers.

"It wasn’t you. It was them. You would never do this to me."

"I did."

"You didn't. Come on, take off your clothes. They’re all wet."

He wants to make you go, make you leave. He will be happy knowing you are somewhere safe and far from him.

You touch his neck, and he can't resist. Astarion allows you to pull off his shirt and then manages to take off the trousers as well. 

"I am sorry," he whispers.

"Don't." You start rubbing his back, and he flinches when your gentle fingers touch the edges of the scars.

"Tav... You need to rest..."

"Don't be selfish. I need this, too."

"What? Why?"

You take his chin and make him look up at you. "Because my body remembers you killing me. Because my subconscious tells me to run away. Because I remember these gentle hands of yours driving blades into my chest. I need to forget it before it's engraved forever. So please, don’t push me away. Not now..."

You keep rubbing his back, hands, and chest. You plant kisses on the clean skin. You wash his hair, stained blood, and gore, and make sure your touches are light and tender.

"If you want to talk about it, I am here. I know what exactly it reminded you of," you whisper in his ear.

And at that moment it's too much.

His body shudders as he starts crying, hiding his face from you in his palms. You drop the rags and wrap your hands around his neck.

You sit like that for an eternity, lulling each other until the healer starts banging into the door, demanding you to return to bed. You reluctantly let Astarion go.

You kiss him goodbye and leave, hoping the darkness won't hold his mind again, and he won't run away from you and his guilt.

**

The bed is comfortable as you lie motionless on a blanket. The healer did a great job patching you together. But you will need to fully recover. And gallons of healing potion.

Astarion enters the room. He wears fresh clothes, and if it wasn't for his facial expression, you could think nothing bad has happened.

"Come," you ask him. "I am sorry, but the night of passion isn't an offer today."

"Don't be ridiculous. How are you feeling?"

"Beaten. Wounded. Tired. And you?"

"Violated"

You both are silent. Finally, Astarion lies beside you and wraps his hands around you.

Your body stiffens against your will. Astarion feels it and tries to let you go.

"No. Hold me like that!"

He obliges and gently places your head on his chest. His cool skin feels nice.

Astarion loves me. He won't hurt me.

You repeat it like a prayer before finally being able to fully relax.

"I love you," he mutters. "I won't hurt you. You hear me?"

You nod.

"I love you, too," You smile, and your heart rejoices when he smiles back.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx@astarion-beloved@tallymonster@caitlincat-95@tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card Reading: Your Soulmate's Letter To Santa About You 💌

PILE 1

Dear Santa,

I want to thank you for my gift from last year, lol. She is amazing.

She makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. Sometimes I smile so hard my cheeks burn.

I've never felt happier in my life.

The way she talks, the way she moves, the way her eyes brighten up when she looks at a puppy or a piece of chocolate pie, they all drive me wild.

I want to be there for her, this Christmas and every other Christmas after this one. I want to buy her a house as a gift and a ring to go with it, maybe even a car? She doesn't like to drive that much but my baby has to have everything she wants.

What she wants she will get. I love her. I adore her. She owns my heart and soul. I'm proudly whipped.

Thank you Santa, I'll take care of her heart ❤️

~ Your soulmate is a provider. They must be a "golden retriever" type of person. I'm hearing "here comes the boy!". When you first meet them you won't expect to fall so hard for them. They have a compatible sense of humour with you.

PILE 2

Hey Santa Baby,

Am I in the naughty list? Great!

This year I put up with no bs and I said "bye" to everything that held me back. I let go of the old stories and left the world behind.

Well, not the whole world, because I met that special someone and they are amazing. I'm writing down my goals for next year and I want one of them to be to deepen my relationship with my soulmate.

I know that they are special, I'm not crazy! I consciously make the choice to commit to them. I feel like we are twin flames and can not wait to explore they way their mind works.

I want to help them unlock their potential. They are a force to be reckoned with and they don't even know it.

Bye, for now!

~ Your FS (yup, they are) is someone who could very well be a motivational speaker or a content creator in that space. They love doing challenges like 75 hard and lighting up other people's fire. They could also be an athlete or ex athlete. You will love this person's practical nature and approach in life. This person is also very spiritual and they probably have heard of Ayahuasca and other popular terms etc. They remind me of a Tech Founder in silicon valley who is I'm woowoo stuff (no worries, I'm the woo woo stuff).

PILE 3

Santa,

I'm ready to move on from this year. My faith is stronger than ever before.

I've wished for so many things in the last few years. Many of them manifested into my life but one thing still hasn't showed up yet and I'm very bumped because of that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I live and lead. I have almost everything I've wished for but that almost is killing me.

I know she is out there. I've felt her energy before. Since I was a child, whenever I looked up to the stars, I felt this overwhelming connection with someone. This invisible string tagging at my heart at all times. No one has ever made me feel this way and I know that it is unfair to say that for my previous partners but I miss her. I miss someone I've never met. Can you please bring her to me this year? I don't want anything else but my love to come back to me in this lifetime.

I know that the time to meet her is coming. I can feel it, but make it as fast as you can. Please.

I have a lot of goals for the year, especially financial ones. I'll try to focus on them until she comes. Where is she? Where is my love?

I will know she is here when I lay my eyes on her. My heart will speed up and the world as I know it will shutter. Shutter my world darling. I don't care. I made that world by myself and it is time we build our own world together.

P.S. Send loving energy to my soulmate, they need it. Tell them I will buy them their gift myself next year, but for now... This, sadly, has to do.

~ Awww your soulmate is very sweet and... depressed! They don't show it to anyone though but when they are alone at night they drink a glass of wine and think about you. They would want you to be there.

This person is very, stoic and "protected". That give me "military" vibes even if they have nothing to do with the military. This inability to outwardly express their feelings. You will baby them a lot and it is going to look comical but they will love it. Your FS might be older and taller than you and people will laugh when they see how much of a baby they become around your presence. They are very tired of being lonely. Don't get me wrong, this is not someone mopping around, they are just a "closeted" romantic. They hide their true feelings and you will know they love you because they will do acts of service for you or you will catch micro expressions. As soon as you enter in an official relationship they won't be able to keep their hands away from you.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Better? (Doctor Who Drabble)

Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor comes to realise his lack of physical affection has been having more of an impact than he thought.

Fic type: hurt/comfort

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper @merrilark @jaziona92 @yeehawbrothers @mochabonesblog @iguirisu @thegen3sisark @wereallbrokenangels @florduarte (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had made sense when he'd first regenerated. It had seemed to be a particularly difficult regeneration, but you'd thought maybe he'd grow out of the aversion to your touch. You had hoped, anyway.

Yes, you'd been with him when he'd had his previous face, and you'd loved him through all his faults and issues, and you'd thought, or rather hoped, that when he regenerated that he would feel the same.

But it was hard to tell.

Day in and day out, he barely touched you. He'd hold your hand as you ran from Daleks or squeezed your arm to get your attention to show you something at a market. He'd pat your head affectionately and give you a charming smile from across the room. But he didn't... touch you anymore. He didn't embrace you, he didn't brush his thumb over your cheek or tuck your ear when it was long enough for tucking. He didn't press light kisses to your cheeks.

And yet, sometimes when he smiled at you, it was still like he saw the universe in your eyes. It was confusing and hurtful, and you weren't sure how much longer you could live with that kind of uncertainty.

"What's wrong?" The Doctor asked, looking over your form suspiciously. Nothing got past him, clearly. You sighed deeply, rubbing at your forehead. "And don't give me that 'it's fine' nonsense you humans do, either. Come on, spit it out."

You gave him a warning look and he backed off... but only barely. He threw his hands up in mock surrender, making you smile despite yourself.

"What is it?" He asked again, softer this time. His brows furrowed in concern when he realised this might actually be something serious and not a 'silly human problem' as he called them.

"Do you not love me any more?" You asked, immediately regretting the wording. All these months you'd practised what you'd wanted to say and when the moment finally came- you botched it. Figures.

"Love you? Of course, I love you," he scoffed. "What kind of silly question is that?" Then he slowed, face turning into a deep and upset frown. "Do you not think I love you? I admit I've been rather caught up in other things- but just the other day we went on that date to the Human Museum."

You shuddered at the memory. He'd meant well, of course, but seeing preserved bodies detailing your species' entire evolutionary growth was not something you'd planned on ever seeing.

"You don't touch me anymore," you replied self-consciously, casting thoughts of the museum aside. The Doctor's frown deepened as he thought back on it. Realising you were right, he came to stand in front of you. Softly, he took both your hands in his, stopping your anxious fidgeting.

"My dear, I had no idea physical affection was so important to you," he said apologetically. The genuine regret in his expression made you feel a little better at least. "I'll make an effort to be more affectionate, yes?"

You replied with a smile, soft and agreeable. The Doctor squeezed your hands and pulled you into a hug. It was a little awkward at first. You'd only hugged him perhaps twice before and you'd spent so long yearning for it that now you finally had it- you didn't quite know what to do.

And then his arms tightened ever so slightly around you, and you melted into him, wrapping yourself close. Gods, it felt good.

"Better?" He asked, nuzzling your neck, voice muffled by your skin.

"Better," you confirmed.

[jujutsubaby]

🩷 sex drive 🩷

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: you go to a valentine's day blood drive at work. maybe it's just that you've been single for too long, but isn't the volunteer drawing your blood kinda...? well, let's just say you wouldn't mind exchanging a few other bodily fluids with him, too. ☆ tags: modern au, workplace au ☆ warnings: 18+!! MINORS DNI!! dirty talk, oral sex (f!recieving), slight exhibitionism, daddy kink ☆ a/n: happy valentine's day (again)!! another quick little treat for u all hehe...inspired by my real life experience of going to a valentine's day blood drive (except for the fun parts ofc lmao).

you knew you should have made up an excuse and stayed home today. you hate to be a cliche bitter ass single woman who's not getting any younger on valentine's day, but it's hard not to play to type when the whole office is decorated in cutesy pinks and reds. it definitely doesn't help that your boss, suguru, keeps getting visits every 15 minutes from his boyfriend satoru.

"ugh, what's with the pda?" you grumble at what feels like satoru's 30th visit to suguru's open cubicle. "haven't you two been together for, like, a thousand years already?" your coworker utahime helpfully makes gagging noises to emphasize your point.

"hey now, y/n, you KNOW that i'm the head of marketing and suguru's the head of sales! i can't help it if he and i have lots of important things to discuss," satoru protests with puppy dog eyes.

"i didn't realize important marketing meetings involve sitting on coworkers' laps now," utahime mumbles, and the pair of you giggle conspiratorially.

however, as the day goes on and utahime keeps receiving increasingly elaborate flower arrangements delivered to her from her doctor girlfriend shoko, you find yourself feeling more glum than ever. you decide to go out for a stroll, hoping the cold february air will slap some sense into you.

unfortunately, not even five minutes after you set out, droplets of threatening rain turn into a torrential downpour. you curse; in your mopey mood this morning, you totally forgot to check the forecast!

you really don't want to go back into the lovefest of your office right now, so you start looking desperately around for a rescue — an underhang to stand under, anything.

that's when you see a bright red sign advertising a blood drive for valentine's day being held at your neighboring building. that could be an interesting idea. at least this way, you can tell yourself you did a good deed on valentine's day instead of just complaining the whole time. even more appealingly, you see that it'll take about an hour, which is one less hour you'll have to spend around satoru's soppy nicknames for suguru. after shooting a quick text to your team's group chat informing them of your last minute appointment, you decide to brave the rain and head over, hoping there's an opening for a walk-in.

you enter the room where the blood drive is taking place, praying you don't look too much like a drowned rat. your self-consciousness melts away and you smile brightly when you see a familiar face.

"shoko! you're volunteering here today?"

"oh, hey y/n," your quiet friend replies, giving you a small smile back. "yeah, utahime and i have a date nearby this evening, so i thought i might as well sign up. what time was your appointment for?"

"well, uh, i didn't exactly make an appointment..." you say awkwardly. "are walk-ins ok?"

"no problem, we got a lot of no-shows today anyway," shoko replies with a subtle roll of her eyes. she then hands you a clipboard and a pen. "just fill this out, and i'll get you screened and set up and everything."

you gratefully take the clipboard and head into the tiny compartment curtained off at the side of the room, presumably to give donors some privacy as they get screened. you fill out the form (trying not to think of your stupid ex boyfriend when you encounter the questions about your sex life), and once you're done, you poke your head back outside of the compartment.

"i'm ready now, shoko," you call. when your friend doesn't answer, you crane your neck around to the desk where she had been sitting. "shoko?"

"she just went on break," a husky, masculine voice replies from behind you. "i'll be taking over." you look back and are immediately floored by what just has to be the finest specimen of the male form you've ever seen, clad in obscenely tight scrubs that emphasize every bulging muscle. focus!!

"oh thanks doctor...um...fushiguro," you read from his nametag. he's so tall that it happens to be at your eye level, giving you quite a nice eyeful of his firm, muscular chest. what business did men have being this tall, anyway?!

"just call me toji," he says casually, grinning down at you. he takes the clipboard from your outstretched hands and jerks his head back towards the compartment you had been waiting in. "let's head back there so we have more...privacy." maybe it's just your imagination, but you could have sworn he smirked when he said that. you take deep breaths to suppress the unholy thoughts you're having, and you follow him back into the side room.

when you push the curtain aside and go in after him, you see he's already settled into one of the two chairs crammed into the tight space that he's clearly a little too large for. as you daintily resume your position in your own chair, he shifts and splays his long legs out, brushing your thigh with his knee. you inhale sharply.

he clears his throat and pulls out a pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket before reading your questionnaire. he nods at your answers (although you can't help but turn beet red as his eyes scan over the section about when you last had a new sex partner).

"looks fine to me. let's take your blood pressure now...y/n" he says, positively purring when he sounds out your name. "beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he says with a roguish wink, making you turn even redder than you ever knew was possible. was he making you uncomfortable on purpose?!

"mind taking your top off?" he asks, rummaging around in the drawer in front of him.

"i'm sorry?!" you choke out. that was a freebie! happy fucking valentine's day to you!

"oh, sorry, i meant so i can put the bp monitor around your arm. i don't know if you can roll your sleeves up in that blouse," he says, looking up from the drawer. you notice his eyes on your breasts, and you realize that you of course had worn your white button down over your lacy black camisole on the day mother nature decided to get you soaking wet. you must look like such a hussy!

you quickly unbutton your blouse and show him your arm to wrap the thick velcro band around, trying hard to avoid eye contact. it doesn't matter, though; you can feel his eyes boring into you like lasers. why does he have to be so hot?! you hope being in his presence won't throw off your blood pressure reading...you can feel your pulse going a little haywire.

As he tightens the band and starts the measurement, toji starts making small talk.

"so, you doing anything for valentine's day?"

ugh. anything but this topic.

"no," you reply simply, hoping not to broker further discussion.

he presses on, not taking your cue (or if he did, he ignored it.)

"no? what, your partner doesn't celebrate?"

toji reads out your bp measurement to you, but you don't even pay attention to it as you notice his hand brushing the side of your breast as he unwraps the bp monitor's band from your exposed arm. you gulp as you realize only the thin satiny layer of your cami is keeping his hands from touching your tits.

"uh..ah.." you say, hoping he doesn't notice the effect his one brief physical touch had on you, "n-no...my ex-boyfriend and i broke up a few months ago already." you don't mention how you saw him in your bed on your birthday in the arms of another person.

toji looks up at you from darkly hooded eyes.

"his loss...i know i'd treasure valentine's day with a pretty little thing like you."

just like that, toji snaps back into professional mode again, leaving you reeling once more from his flirtatious behavior. he was way too handsome to be acting like this on a dime! a girl like you could get ideas...

"i'm going to do a thumbprick now to get a quick reading on your blood. is that ok with you?"

you nod, and he grins at you.

"that's my girl," he hums in a low voice.

then, before you're even able to process what's happening, he takes your hand and engulfs it in his own. he then begins rubbing your hand back and forth, and you feel a small frisson of pleasure at the sensation of his callouses against your small, soft fingers.

"noticed your skin was a little cold, so i thought i'd warm your hand up before taking the sample," he explained, but you're hardly able to even listen to him as you enjoy the blissful sensation of his hands rubbing yours. his fingers were so long and thick, and so dextrous... how would those fingers feel somewhere else...no! stop! what are you thinking?! you've definitely been single for too long.

"all right, y/n," toji murmurs gently. "you're just going to feel a small prick...sorry about that..." he takes the sample and puts it into a machine for processing. he then reaches back into the drawer and withdraws a digital thermometer.

"while we're waiting for that to finish, let's take your temperature." you nod and extend your hands to take the thermometer from him, but he ignores you and instead roughly takes your chin in one of his huge, warm hands, tilting your head up towards his chest.

"open up for me now, y/n" he purrs, your name sounding like the sweetest and most beautiful sound you've ever heard when it's coming from his mouth; you can't help but comply. he gently inserts the thermometer under your tongue, and you note his eyes lingering on your lips for much longer than they have to. embarrassingly, you notice heat pooling between your legs, and tension twisting by your belly button. you could get used to this...all too soon, though, the thermometer beeps, and he takes it out. toji clicks his tongue as he reads the small display.

"99 degrees even," he reads out. "now that's a surprise."

"what? why's that?" you ask, confused. how could a body temperature be surprising?

"well, our cutoff is 99.5, and i was sure you'd be way too hot," he says with a laugh and another wink. you giggle back demurely; you can't help but act all girlish and coquettish with someone like him. you've never seen a man in real life wink so much, but you find you don't mind. it suits him.

"all right, y/n, let's go get some blood drawn!" he says enthusiastically, rising from his chair. you follow suit. he reaches around you (did his arm just brush your breasts again?) and opens the curtain for you. "after you, princess."

you used to hate when your ex called you "princess"...but when toji called you that, it sounded like the doors to the heavens opened and angels were singing. you'll definitely be thinking about that for awhile. probably before bedtime, and probably while touching yourself. you sigh and exit the small room before hopping up onto one of the cots that were brought to the building for the blood drive.

toji pops a small stress ball into your hand. "now, make a fist for me," he says, using his fingers to close yours, "and start squeezing that." he squeezes his fist around yours. it wasn't so confusing of an instruction that you needed a demonstration, and you're beginning to suspect that toji's making excuses to keep touching you. not that you mind, exactly.

you keep squeezing, and he examines the tender inside of your elbow. "that's a gorgeous vein you've got there, princess. this'll be easy for me," he murmurs seductively, and you blush. you've never been complimented on a vein, of all things, before.

soon, toji pierces your arm (pursing his lips sympathetically as you emit a sharp gasp, which of course makes you stare at his lips), and your blood is pumping merrily into a bag. you decide to make conversation with him, this time.

"how about you, toji? i'm sure someone like you has big plans for valentine's day, right?" you ask, raising your eyebrows suggestively.

"oh, yeah," he chuckles. "if you count getting high and watching magnolia for the millionth time big plans. i don't really go for that stuff," he says.

"i love paul thomas anderson," you say huskily, trying to flutter your eyelashes at him. it's been a long time since you've flirted, and you're probably embarrassing yourself. "you know what the perfect film of his for today would be, though?"

"what's that, princess?"

you smirk. "there will be blood."

toji lets out a huge laugh in spite of himself, and you smile proudly. flirtation successful!

soon, your blood has filled the small bag, and toji removes the needle, pressing gauze to the wound. the feel of his hands pressing into your arm is one of the most blissful things you've felt all week. he asks you to continue maintaining the pressure, and you feel like whining that it won't feel as nice as when he does it before remembering where you are and complying. you watch as he picks up your sample and sorts it in with the others; you feel a bit shy, seeing him manhandle your little blood bag like that. it feels so intimate.... you gulp as you imagine him manhandling you like that.

"all right, y/n, now you just need to rest for twenty minutes, and you'll be good to go." you start climbing out from the cot, feeling a little disappointed that your short, exciting interaction with toji is coming to an end. oh well. some excitement is better than none.

"we have some cookies for the donors in the seating area," he continues. "lucky you...i'd love a little taste of something sweet right about now..."

ok, it definitely wasn't your imagination — he positively growled that last sentence, and he was eyeing you. as you get up, you notice you're a little shaky on your feet; you realize that you actually hadn't eaten lunch before coming, since you'd been in such a rush to get away. you list and sway dangerously to one side, but a pair of strong arms braces you. you let your head fall back onto a perfectly firm, taut chest.

"careful, there, sweetheart" toji whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin as he lifts you up. you try not to think too much about how your back is pressed into him right now. "i think i'd better keep an eye on you." he walks you over to the front of the room, bracing your back against himself the whole way over. he leads you to the front of the room, where there are folding chairs and a card table with a small platter of supermarket cookies as promised. as shoko had alluded earlier, the blood drive was not busy at all. in fact, it was completely empty currently; just you and toji, alone in this room... you feel yourself getting faint again, but not for the same reason.

"y'know, princess..." toji says, sitting again with his legs splayed out over the chair across from you as you nibble a chocolate chip cookie. "my shift's ending right about...when your observation period ends."

you tilt your head inquisitively at him, hoping you knew why he was saying this. he leans forward, the flimsy plastic chair creaking under the weight of his solid muscle. what you'd let that muscle do to you...

"i don't think that i, as a medical professional, can let you go back to work today..." he continues. "i think you'd better go home after this." then, he smiles deviously. "and i think i'd better take you back, just to give you a...full examination."

it takes all of your restraint not to fling the rest of the cookie down and jump his bones right then and there. instead, you reply,

"i think i'd appreciate the house call." you do your best to make your voice ooze with suggestion so he knows you're picking up what he's putting down.

after what feels like the slowest fifteen minutes of your life, it's finally time to leave. just as toji's shift is about to end, shoko returns from her break, and you take the opportunity to ask her to have utahime bring your things back home from the office for you. since they're your neighbors, you can pick them up later tonight. or perhaps, tomorrow morning...just in case tonight gets a little too busy.

"something came up," you explain to her breathlessly, but you know shoko notices toji's hand creeping up the small of your back.

"have fun," shoko says to the both of you, only slightly judgmental but mostly encouraging.

since you took the bus to work that morning and toji refuses to wait a moment longer than he has to to commence your "examination," he insists on driving you back in his car. you both practically sprint through the parking lot, and he breaks at least three traffic laws zooming back to your apartment in the rain as you yell directions. for a doctor, he sure is awfully reckless.

finally, finally, after an agonizingly long wait, you're at your building. you're about to climb out of the car, but toji is way ahead of you, opening the door for you. you are about to climb out and jokingly thank him for his chivalry when he unceremoniously scoops you out of your seat and swings you over his shoulder. you shriek with laughter.

"toji! put me down!"

you're also all too aware that you're wearing a pretty short skirt that day.

"sorry, princess," he says smoothly. "it's protocol. i can't have you walking back in just in case you pass out, or something."

you're about to ask if he's even been to medical school when he shoves your key into your apartment door, slams it open, and, equally roughly, slams your back against the wall. the breath is shoved out of your lungs as he immediately captures your mouth with his, swallowing any potential protest you might have had (which you didn't, you absolutely didn't. not even close.). he carries your entire weight easily as he shuts the door behind him with his foot; you're hardly paying attention, though, as you're too busy widening your mouth and entangling your tongue with his. you greedily bite down on his lip, and he growls in response.

"let's get you to the examination table," he groans. you wrap your legs around his narrow waist, and he carries you haphazardly to your dining table, crashing into and knocking over furniture along the way. carrying you with one arm, he carelessly clears the table with his other before plopping you onto the tabletop. he kneels before your legs and tears off your tights in one swift motion.

"i hope you're planning to help clean up—" you start, but your breath hitches in your throat as he begins kissing up your ankle, then your calf...then your thigh...he gets slower and slower as he gets closer to where you most want him to go. you try to shift forward on the table to bring your throbbing center closer to him, but he holds you firmly in place with two powerful hands clamped on your hips.

"patience, princess..."

you close your eyes and start taking deep breaths, but the moment is disrupted by an annoying loud vibration against the wooden tabletop.

"who the fuck is 'ryomen sukuna?'" toji scoffs, "and why do you have a heart next to his name? you been lyin' to me, princess? have you been naughty?"

"no," you breathe, and it comes out as a whine. "no, daddy, i've been a good girl, promise. please..."

"'please' what, princess? help daddy out here," he purrs with a wicked grin. just then, your stupid phone vibrates again, and you're about to pick it up and throw it out the window when toji wrests it from your grip.

"your idiot ex, i'm guessing?" he asks. all you can do is nod, the words robbed from you.

"well, my professional recommendation is...for you to tell him to fuck off."

"i will, toji, i promise," you pant. "please, just ignore him, i promise, he's nothing to me."

"you're not listening to me, princess..." toji says in a low, dangerous voice. "i want you to tell him to fuck off. right. now." he slides the answer button on your phone and hands it to you before you can protest.

"h-hello?" you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "sukuna?"

"heyyyy, y/n....missed hearing your voice, boo," sukuna coos, clearly inebriated. you scoff in disgust; it's only four in the afternoon. sukuna was such a mess.

"what do you want, sukuna? i thought i w-was..." you start out assertively, but your resolve is breaking as a practiced tongue once again starts swirling its way up your legs, alternating between your left and right thighs. you clench your toes and grit your teeth before continuing.

"i was ... clear...that ... that we're o-over," you say, the last word coming out as a moan as you feel a set of teeth pulling off your panties ever so gently.

"baby, i told you!" sukuna whines. "uraume's nothin' to me, babe! they're just a friend! you're my one and only, baby!"

even in the midst of the sensory overload occurring in your bottom half, you still roll your eyes. yeah, "just friends" made out in bed naked all the time, right?

"i want you to...to...s-stop.." you pant, as sukuna finally picks up on your strange manner of speech.

"hold on, y/n, is someone there with you?" he snarls, his famous temper rising to the forefront. "you whoring it up with another guy already?"

at that, toji grabs the phone from you and growls into it, "seems like she finally decided she needs a real man, not some cheatin' asshole who can't appreciate her properly!"

the moment he finishes talking, toji leans back into your thighs and finally plunders you with his tongue, raising the phone to your mouth in time for you to moan sinfully into it as sukuna is arguing back. toji doesn't even bother hanging up as he throws the phone across the room.

toji grips your thighs tightly enough to leave bruises as he feasts on you, and you wrap your legs around him, tangle your hands in his short hair, and squirm in delight. it doesn't take you very long to come undone under his practiced mouth.

he rises back to his feet, licking his lips.

"finally got to satisfy my sweet tooth today," he says mischievously. you grab the v-neck of his shirt and tug him closer to you aggressively.

"take me to bed. it's your turn next," you declare authoritatively. then, you kiss him fiercely, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

"your wish is my command, princess," he replies with a dark chuckle, before lifting you, bridal style, to your bedroom.

this was shaping up to be a great valentine's day after all.

[olivescales3]

Legends of Chima Pride Flags (part 1)

I tried making them align with canon characterization and worldbuilding as much as possible. I took a little bit of liberties to speculate how they would behave in the future too, of course while taking into consideration the effects of canon events.

(do not remove the watermark; do not tag as furry)

Explanations:

Because we don't know if animals feel the same type of sexual/romantic attraction like humans do, the animals from Chima are *at least* on the aroace spectrum due to them literally being just evolved, highly intelligent versions of their predecessors. Chi was made by the Phoenixes, which do not reproduce sexually; Chima animals' behavior and anatomy is almost identical to those of the Phoenixes, since language, third pair of limbs, among other Phoenix traits were projected evolutionarily onto them; this thus leaves the conclusion that 'human' romance and sex is not a thing for Chima animals, since it's also non-existent for the Phoenixes.

Laval is shown, throughout the show, that he is a caring lion who was also willing to choose a mate in the last episode, which is why I chose the partnering aroace flag for him. He doesn't have a specific choice of the partner's sex per se, since there weren't any teenage lions for him to be paired with (and the show not being focused on romance; point being that all romance subplots were pretty forced), and him choosing Li'ella really felt like it was some kind of last resort, so I kept that up to interpretation.

Cragger being hurt by those close to him (his parents' death + Crooler using him), along with his overall discontent about his existence being possibly forsaken due to Crunket, his mother, having an affair with Laval's uncle, Lavertus, all at a young age makes me assign him the non-partnering aroace orientation. During the first season of the show, Cragger's mental state is extremely fuzzy and miserable for a tween; he willingly told Laval to kill him out of spite, then attempted to personally murder him by letting the lion prince drown alone— all of it while behaving and speaking in ways that showed his depressing anguish. However, even if the later seasons show Cragger as a childish youngling that barely has any care in the world, he's still pretty aware about other's wrongdoings; he explicitly called out Fluminox' selfishness— "you let your son escape because you were feeling sorry for yourself?"; and he made backhanded jokes against Lavertus. It's not like Cragger would consciously be non-partnering, but the lingering, instinctive trauma would make him not want to have a mate.

Worriz was an easy pick for non-partnering aroace. He's constantly described in canon as a cunning liar who is willing to hide his true intentions– that is, gaining tremendous advantage in power– beneath treaties and promises. Not only that, but in Legends of Chima: Laval's Journey, Worriz immediately turned against Cragger when he understood that he was not getting his hands on the 'Triple Chi'; in the same game, he was shown to not be afraid of threatening others with extreme violence, like when he straight up told Eris he would maul her after he got his hands on the Triple Chi. His horrible violence doesn't end with just words; he directed attacks against the Eagle Tribe TWICE: once by attempting to pull the entire Eagle Spire down, which would cause as many casualties as possible, and twice by setting the Eagle Library on fire and subsequently erasing the tribe's culture and discoveries from existence, an event that happened in Laval's Journey. Of course, he'd make an exception for Windra since they're both vicious and violent... Worriz' violence is not the 'cause' of him being non-partnering; he is, in general, a real and terrifying threat, and would take advantage of anyone if he could— he wouldn't see relationships as innocent and would twist it to gain some kind of power.

Crooler was a hard pick. It's not known much of her besides her using Cragger, but the reason behind those acts are shown explicitly in the show to be envy, and not personal like one would assume. She was capable of demonstrating remorse to a certain extent, and told Cragger a few times she loved him. The honesty of these emotions are not known, but the fact that she was able to show a less 'evil' side of her places her view of relationships into question. If she grows into a better person, then she might get into a healthy relationship, but if she continues to be cunning then she won't. This nuance made me choose demi-partnering for her.

[blueboyluca]

I've turned off reblogs on my original post about the agility spaniel in pain and it's ironic really because this sort of thing is why Crufts as an organisation probably doesn't address stuff like this.

Quickly the narrative shifts to, "This is abuse and only bad people would do this." But that's not true.

All of us with dogs are capable of and do hurt our animals without consciously choosing, "I think I will commit abuse today". We may be ignorant, we may be distracted, we may be under social pressure. People aren't perfect, nobody's dog is cared for perfectly.

The comments, reblogs and tags on that post show that a lot of people only think the dog was stressed. And, I concede, I can't say for sure the dog was in pain because I am not at Crufts and I don't have hands on the dog, but that dog was displaying signs of pain specifically, not just stress. Other dogs ran before and after this spaniel that also displayed signs of stress, but none of them displayed signs of pain. It's important to be able to notice both types of discomfort and yet so many people can't see pain in dogs.

I believe that participating in dog sports is actually more likely to make you aware of your dog's behaviour. Usually you need to train them to do very specific things, so you become very observant of small movements and changes. The pressures of competing in a dog sport can and have blinded many people to the true plight of their dogs, but that's not inherent to all dog sports competitors, nor is it absent in dog owners who don't participate in dog sports.

If your dog is in pain and you can't see it yet, that doesn't make you a bad person. If you choose not to learn what pain can look like in dogs, however, you are making the choice to not provide the best possible care for your dog that you can. That goes for people who do agility and it goes for people who don't.

The woman who competed with her spaniel in the Novice Cup yesterday at Crufts isn't an inherently bad person. Her dog is the victim of a puppy farm that was raided by the RSPCA and it has suffered abuse before. It was not being abused by running around the agility ring on that one day. It was showing signs of pain though, and despite being surrounded by the best agility athletes in the UK, the handler still ended up running that dog. It was probably the dog's first time at Crufts and it might have been the handler's as well. It's not hard to see how it happened, it's just disappointing that it did. And if it becomes a consistent pattern with this handler, then I perhaps would consider it a kind of abuse.

But what it is right now is an opportunity for all of us to think about our own choices and how they affect our dogs, even if we aren't being streamed online to an international audience of people who are going to make multiple Tumblr posts about us.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

hiiiii, i was wondering if u could do a "hashira reaction to gn s'o cheating on them? idk if u do that type of stuff, if u don't just ignore. if you can't/ don't wanna do all, can you please include giyuu and kyojuro? i love your writing sm it hurts

lots of love, me <3

AWEHJIFSKJDF THANK YOU SM!<33 I’m glad you like my writing and yes, I can write that ^^ I don’t normal write char x reader—though I have done it be4—so, sorry if it’s a bit silly bc I’m accustomed to writing char x char It’ll just be Giyuu in this part, I’ll do the others separately since it’s easier on me, if that’s alright. I’ll put the links to the others on this part too, when I finish them tho! (iyw to stay anon that’s fine, but I could tag you in the others if you wanted it?) Also im writing this on my tablet so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes 😭 I write better on computer

Reaction to being cheated on by GN!Y/N

Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu never showed much emotion. It bothered you, in ways you never could bring yourself to word. The thing was, however, that you didn’t know how much longer you could bear it. You had fallen in love with him before, but didn’t find yourself drawn to him now. It had been like a mystery, trying to find out the depths of this man whom refused to show anything. He was caring of you, yes. He tended to your wounds, tried his best to make you meals, bought you gifts. But he lacked the show of physical affection. He kissed you from time to time, but you had to initiate it; you had to ask for it. He never gave you the attention you so desperately sought for. Not the kind you wanted, at least.

So you did the unthinkable. You found another man—someone who would treat you as you wished. With only a wisp of guilt in the back of your mind, you pressed your lips upon this other man, thoughts far from the Hashira.

This went on for about two weeks, only, until Giyuu found out. He was supposed to be gone on a mission for a bit, so you invited the man over to your house. Giyuu had the key in, but he was supposed to be gone, of course.

It began with food. Drinks, small talk. It grew heated from there: kissing grew to making out, and that went to the point your uniform was hanging loosely from your shoulders, and then—

And then the door opened.

You had been so caught up in whatever the hell was going on that you hadn’t heard the front door being unlocked. Presumably, Giyuu had assumed you’d had a friend over. Because shock registered through his entire expression upon opening the bedroom door and finding you under another man.

You. Giyuu’s partner, his lover. Splayed under some man he knew not.

For a moment, all that could be heard was yours and the man’s heavy breathing. Giyuu was stock-still, eyes wide, mouth ajar. Then he spoke. His voice, usually so calm and collected, came out shaky. Uncertain.

“Y/n…?” he asked quietly, taking a hesitant step forward.

The man scoot off of you, buttoning his uniform hastily and standing. “I should go…” he murmured. He tried making a dash out the door, ducking under Giyuu’s arm, but Giyuu was quicker, grabbing him by his collar and tossing him back into the room carelessly, gaze stuck on you.

“Y/n, what… What the hell?” he said, his voice rising slightly. You rarely heard him swear. Even if it was something as mild as ‘hell.’

You flinched as he moved closer, his steps as inaudible as ever.

“Why…?” His question trailed off, his eyes tracing your half-exposed body. You tugged your uniform back on self-consciously. Why had you done this?

You averted your eyes, not wanting to see his expression anymore. You had thought he wouldn’t care, in all honesty. Though it didn’t stop you from hiding it.

“What did I do wrong?” Giyuu mumbled. There was a trace of hurt in his voice and you felt a twinge of regret. It wasn’t just the humiliation of being discovered.

“I… You didn’t kiss me much or anything. You didn’t really hug me, or cuddle me, or… I don’t know. I’m sorry,” you whispered. You chanced a glance back at him.

Giyuu’s hair had fallen over his eyes, obscuring them from your view. His lips opened and closed wordlessly for a moment. Eventually, he seemed to find his voice. But he sounded cold now, the kind of voice he would use to give orders to Demon Slayers. Dismissive. The kind that meant the conversation was over. “I loved you, Y/n. Did you know that? I’m sorry for not giving you enough. I hope this… other man can give you what I failed to do,” he said quietly. He turned abruptly, ignoring your calls as he stalked out of the room.

You heard the front door slam shut. There was a moment of silence. The ‘other man’ glanced at you.

“Want to continue…?” he asked tentatively.

“Shut up. Go away,” you hissed.

He raised his hands in surrender as he stood, backing towards the doorway. “Alright… It was just a question.”

You waited as his footsteps faded into the distance. The door Giyuu had slammed clicked shut behind him. You dipped your head down, burying it in your hands. God, what had you done?

///

« 700 or so words? (from eyeing it) »

[amazinglyegg]

Paladin Danse headcanons because I love this little dude

Doesn't like being talked about behind his back, even if they're saying positive things about him. If he's talking about someone not in the room he's bringing up the things he said in that conversation next time he sees them because he thinks they deserve to hear the praise/critique.

Never really looks at the little things in life. The smell of brewing coffee, the way the sun rises over the trees, the calming ambient chatter of a shared living space... it all goes unnoticed by him. He finds himself thinking about the future constantly, and it takes someone who consciously points it all out to him for him to learn to live in the present more.

LOVES learning, although that passion dies down a bit while he's in the Brotherhood, partially due to grief/trauma and partially due to the Brotherhood indirectly teaching soldiers that outsiders are bad and the Brotherhood is always right. His love gets rekindled when he joins the Minutemen.

Doesn't really believe he has PTSD and pushes away medical help because he sort of feels offended that he was diagnosed despite his skepticism. The type of person to think "I don't have PTSD because I don't have any flashbacks, I just have nightmares and intrusive thoughts and sometimes I feel the same overwhelming emotions I felt when the trauma happened... but none of those are flashbacks!" (spoiler alert, man, not all flashbacks look like they do in movies).

Touch starved but not in the "cute clingy boyfriend" way. More like the "cringing away from touch because it's physically painful" way. He hasn't gotten any sort of physical contact in SO LONG and it's seriously fucking with him.

I was going to make a separate post about this but this man would fucking LOVE laser tag. He would be IN HIS ELEMENT. He would be THRIVING. Let this guy play a game of laser tag with some other soldiers please it would be great enrichment for him.

Strangely passionate about socks. Yes, socks. Do you have any idea how GOOD high quality socks feel?? If you complain about any sort of foot pain he has sock brand recommendations for you. He's the sock equivalent of "It's 'cause you're always on that damn phone" that parents use. "Danse my head hurts" "It's because you didn't get the socks I recommended to you" "????"

Will drink as a social activity, but mostly drinks alone. Also a sad drunk.

Would love any and all fidget toys he gets his hands on. Probably refuses to use them because most of them are colorful and "toys", but if you manage to sneak a fidget cube or a tangle in his hands while he's sitting around? That bitch will be used non-stop until he leaves it somewhere and forgets about it. Will probably adjust whatever action he's doing so he can keep one hand free to keep fidgeting.

Doesn't like anything that sticks to his hands or makes a mess on surfaces, like slime, putty, paint, mud, etc. If you hand him slime he will touch it once and then leave to go wash his hands.

Sleeps hot, probably without a blanket often because he overheats. Tosses and turns a lot. Does that thing where he can sleep through basically anything but the second you try to tiptoe past him he will shoot awake.

Keeps Cutler's and Krieg's dog tags in his bedside drawer. Doesn't do so with anyone else's, not because he doesn't care about any of his other teammates who died, but because he knows if he let himself keep doing that the drawer would get filled way too quickly. That realization was at about the same time he "toughened up" a lot more and fell into the commanding officer mindset he's still in today.

Doesn't like needles. He'll get shots and whatever if he needs to, obviously, but unlike most other undesirable things he'll actually complain about it a bit instead of acting like the tough guy. Probably looks away whenever he needs to get stitches.

Eats a ton of food, not so much water. Will absolutely demolish several servings of pasta and then complain of a dehydration headache, completely unaware that the last time he drank water was 7 hours ago.

Likes training new recruits, makes him a bit nostalgic for the old days with him and Cutler. Tends to be a bit soft with the ones that really remind him of Cutler, but in the type of way where he pulls them aside just to say "You did really well today :)" completely oblivious that the poor initiate assumed they were going to get reprimanded and are now having a mini panic attack.

[cosmicstarlatte]

Customer Service (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

They try contacting customer service. 🤷‍♂️

»Characters: Demon Bros

»Tags: Certified Shitpost™️, Pathetic Lucifer is my favorite Lucifer

»Notes: It's been a while since I've done a shitpost bulleted fic so ♡reblogs♡ are appreciated. I've had this wip since March apparently? 💀

Lucifer:

A hand on his hip and the phone in the other

This man means business

"Don't talk to me, I'm trying to keep my level of anger"

Held onto his anger for two hours waiting for the next agent

The annoying hold music only fueled him

Tried to be reasonable with the agent when he got patched through

But they were new

"Look, just get me your manager."

Waited another half hour for them

The problem got fixed rather quickly actually

smirked in satisfaction...Lucifer always wins.

If only he noticed the two stuck pages in the manual, he would've not wasted his morning

Mammon:

If he wasn't broke he would've paid someone else to make the call

Waited for an hour but it felt like eternity

"Yeah ain't there a satisfaction guarantee on this anyway!? The customers always right!"

Tried to get a replacement for his earbuds

And a refund while he was at it

Scammy? What?? Nooo....

"They fell in the wash! It's not my fault! Did I get insurance? Who has the money for that?"

Him and the agent went back and forth for a while

The agent finally caved and promised to replace the earbuds

"Finally! Ya better send 'em quick! -click-"

...

He realized he never gave the agent his address & had to start the process all over again

Levi:

Lol

Tried online chat but his specific issue needed a real agent because...of course it would

Tried to pay one of his brothers to make the call for him

They rather stab themselves or wage war against Diavolo than call customer service

Took anxiety medication before trying to call

Waited three hours on hold but played something soothing in the meantime

helloooo ruri and friends crossing

He stopped when he heard the hold music stop

"Hello thank you for calling Akuz-"

click

"It's not that important."

Satan:

This is how a pro does it.jpg

Drank his little coffee and ate his fresh little pastry

See, he set an alarm to call customer service right when they open their lines

Had the number typed and ready to go with a press

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP

Finally!

-dialing tone-

"Hello. Your wait time is 2 hours and-"

...

...

...

Slammed his phone on the floor and it broke

Went to go fight the company in person

His issue got fixed

The company had to tighten their security after this incident

Asmo:

Is that one lucky demon that happens to get patched through quickly

He was having problems with his devilgram account verification

Just as he started speaking about his issue the agent freaked out

Turns out they were a huge fan and could automatically tell it was the REAL™️ Asmo speaking

The issue got fixed and Asmo stayed talking with the agent because they sounded really cute

One thing led to another and...it went from a customer service hotline to a phone sex one real quick

This always happens when he calls customer service akskjfksls

Beel:

Collected all the snacks he had

Even cooked an entire feast

He needed everything he could get before making the dreaded call

After an hour of waiting (and barely any snacks left) he finally got to an agent!

It was a pleasant experience for both sides

Beel is getting sent replacements for his shoes plus a discount voucher for his next purchase

güd boi™️ as usual

Belphie:

Almost fell asleep while waiting

The music soothed him, they had classical music playing

He's not really sure how long he waited if he's being honest

When he finally got to the agent he sounded so weak the agent was concerned

"Mm? No I'm always like ...losing... consciousness ...it's normal...zzz..."

The agent was still so concerned they sent someone to the HOL to check on him

Beel ended up making the call for him

⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Devil-Mart⭐︱Waffle House

[buddhamethods]

10 BL Characters I Want Carnally

AKA I'm just a person with two keen eyes and dubious morals when it comes to enjoying media so don't take it seriously, I'm here for a good time.

Thank you @sndrys for tagging me! This was an eye opening experience putting this together. As it turns out I might have a type (ew).

1) Guy from Bake Me Please (2023)

The sole reason for me creating this list! Look, I dropped Bake Me Please almost immediately because it just wasn't for me BUT I've been lowkey watching through my dash. And let me tell you, my fingers gain consciousness and hit reblog everytime this baby's face pops up because...well...LOOK AT HIM. He is beautiful and he should get the guy (hehe get it) in the end idc.

2) Yok from Not Me (2021)

Yok is such a beloved character and for good reason! He is sexy, he is gay, he sets buildings on fire and steals cops' wallets on accident because HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT GUY HE WAS STALKING WAS A COP??? I love you Yok, never change.

3) Palm from Never Let Me Go/ OurSkyy2 (2022-23)

The anger I felt for all the injustice and mistreatment our beautiful Palm had to face in this show took literal years off my life. It's rare for me to get this passionately protective over a character and yet here we are, in the Palm Protection Squad headquarters. Even Nueng is on the watchlist!

4) Tonhon from Tonhon Chonlatee (2020)

Not to out myself as an enjoyer of silly goofy times , but I did have fun watching Fish Upon The Sky and Secret Crush On You, so OFCOURSE I thought I would like this one too but GOD was it rough. Did I still finish it? Yes. Did I fawn over PoddKhao pairing and have been quietly praying for some kind of reunion ever since? Also yes. Was I foaming at the mouth barking everytime Tonhon AKA Podd was on my screen? I'm not gonna comment without lawyer present.

5) Tew from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)

Speaking of Tonhon Chonlatee...AH! Ai Long Nhai (TC's spiritual prequel of sorts) was sure...something. And by something I mean I saw Meen and decided I will never speak ill of men ever again, feminism quite literally left my body. And then a year later My Dear Gangster Oppa came out and guess what??! MEEN IS THE GANGSTER OPPA! Dreams really do come true, kids.

6) Wen from Moonlight Chicken (2023)

(or Tian from ATOATS or Mueang Nan fron FUTS). Mix...I will eat you. Always so dewy and healthy and sparkly-eyed. But Wen from Moonlight Chicken is something out of the realm of my imagination. The sex appeal? The maturity?? The gentleness??!! Somebody sedate me before I say something I will not be able to justify in court.

7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)

He is a pretty bisexual who makes the most abhorrent stupid decisions known to men and then weeps and suffers for them WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED? Once again, is the show flawless or even remotely coherent? Absolutely not. That being said Vee brought me so much joy by being stupid I'm forever grateful.

(also YinWar are so back GO WATCH JACK AND JOKER TRAILER)

8) Prapai from Love In The Air (2022)

To a certain extent I've enjoyed every MAME show I've watched. To do that you need to possess the rare ability called "I abandoned every shred of moral integrity to gawk at hot men". And Prapai? MAN is this bitch hot. Tall dark handsome? Check! Bisexual on a bike? Check! Stubborn and annoying? CHECK!

9) Xiang Hao Ting from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)

*incoherent wailing and sobbing* IM NOT EXPLAINING SHIT ABOUT HIM LEAVE ME ALONE

10) AlanJeff from Pit Babe (2023)

My newest obsession! I refuse to separate our local senior citizen and his favorite prophetic mechanic. Both of them are hot as shit in their own way. Alan is a sexy dilf with so much weight and responsibility on his shoulders it's a miracle he retained his optimism and youthful awkwardness. And Jeff is a prickly baby-cow-baby-deer eyed baby that is so touch starved it's actually a little funny. SO I GUESS ALANJEFF SANDWICH IT IS.

(don't be shy tag yourselves besties <3)

[countrymusiclover]

1 - Life Changing Deal

Princess Red Thief

Part 2

Tag list - just ask to be added @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35

Peaking my head through the treeline I saw the large castle in front of me. I ran straight for the nearest window reaching inside my cloak drawing a sword I stole from the soldiers armor outside my chambers. Swinging it against the glass it shattered when I ducked my head so it didn't get in my eyes. Climbing through the window I dropped down on my knees inside the castle. "Okay, now where's that dagger?"

Heading over to the cabinets filled with objects I began rummaging around for the specific blade in question. I started throwing books and other things on the ground until one of the globs shattered onto the floor and a voice called out behind me. "Looking for something specific are you, dearie?"

"Show yourself, beast." I draw the sword I used on the window holding it out in front of myself for defense.

A Purple cloud of smoke appeared in front of me. "Here I am, dearie." The figure in front of me had curly brown hair and scaly skin. He was dressed in leather and snake skins.

"What are you? Are you the one they call Rumple...Rumplestiltskin?" I questioned tightening my grip on the blade handle.

The figure giggles performing an over the rope bow. "Indeed I am Rumplestilskin. Now who are you and why so foolish to try and steal from the Dark One?"

"My name is Everly. My parents are Princess Abigail and Prince Frederick." I explained to him moving towards the long table that was in the center of the room.

The dark one clicked his tongue putting his fingers together. "Ah yes I recognize the princess's name. She and King George's son are supposed to wed through a deal I help arrange. But that doesn't explain why you've tried to steal from me."

"I am here because I am a threat to my kingdom." Placing my freehand on the table my palm turned red and I could feel the magic running through my fingertips. The cabinet behind me that had seen through glass suddenly shattered into a million pieces at my feet. "I have an uncontrollable amount of power even though neither of my parents were born with magic."

He nodded, waving his fingers at me. "And you needed my dagger to force me to help you control it."

"I do apologize, Rumplestilskin. I wouldn't dare steal from someone who is declared so powerful if I was not so desperate for a solution to this. I wish to help my mother free my father from his golden prison but I can't do that if this ability or curse isn't kept at bay."

"Magic is not always a curse, Red Thief." He stepped closer to me snapping his fingers and a silver dagger appeared in his grasp. He showed me that his name was engraved on the blade. "I will help you if you choose to embrace your power."

I fired back knowing the rumors that members across kingdoms had spread about him. He used only dark magic and was notorious for making deals with the most desperate types of people. "What do you want in return from me? I know you always want something back for a price."

"I'll enchant your cloak given that I do rather like the color red on you. Once it is enchanted you and I will be connected consciously. You will help me with my deals and the customers that are connected with them."

"What do you mean like if someone breaks a deal with you you'll make me kill them?" I questioned hearing the darkness in his voice.

Rumplestilskin smirked. "I'll decide what fate I wish to bestow on them. Now do you accept my offer or not?"

"I don't know if I can go through with this, Dark One. Ahhh!" I screamed bumping into one of the curtain covered windows seeing my palm turn red again but this time the curtain caught on fire.

Rumple snickers at me. "It appears you don't have any other option here, Red Thief."

"My name is Everly." I corrected him even though I probably shouldn't since he could turn me into a bug and kill me easily if he so wished.

He stepped closer where I shifted the hood of my cloak since it was blocking my view. Our eyes met and I could see he had deep brown eyes. "So long as you work for me I can call you whatever I wish. Unless you think you can find help through someone else."

"I suppose I will. So I'll take your deal." Extending my hand I paused unsure if I would hurt him if I touched him.

He grasps my small hand in his larger one. "We have a deal, Red Thief."

Resting my chin in the palm of my hand I kept scanning my eyes over the paperwork that was in front of me. I had been doing the storage inventory for the pawnshop for as long as I could remember. In my opinion every object had a story that needed to be told rather than just sitting in the dusty old store. But that wasn't what my boss believed. He thinks there's a price of money for everything. "Let's see the unicorn chandelier, tea set and red cloak are all accounted for. Wait red cloak, I didn't see that here."

"It has to be here. It has to be here. If it isn't he will dock my pay." I frantically began searching around every cabinet in the shop not finding the piece of clothing anywhere.

The store bell rang making me shriek running back to my desk in the back room trying to play it cool. The curtain got pushed open and Mr. Gold stepped inside the room. "How has the inventory gone tonight?"

"Uh, pretty good. How was your walk?" I asked him tapping my fingers on the desk nervously, hoping he didn't notice.

His brown, almost chocolate eyes focused on my gaze. "You seem nervous, Eve. Any particular reason why?"

"No reason. Just wishing to be done with work for the evening, sir." I lied to him.

He sent me a half smile revealing a bag from behind his back in his other hand that wasn't holding onto the cane he used to walk with since he had a limp. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you realized this was missing?" He drew something from the bag and I gasped seeing a red cloak fall down while he held it up in front of me.

"I....I....um. Sir, I am sorry. I thought I had accounted for everything. I don't know how it ever left the shop." I began panicking, running my fingers through my hair that I had left loosely.

Mr. Gold chuckles breaking the intense silence that I was feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Calm down, lass. I saw that it was dirty so I took it to the cleaners. Figured it should look in better shape before I gave it to you."

"Oh god that's a relief." Putting a hand over my forehead I sighed in relief. "Wait a minute. Give it to me, why would you do that?"

Gold moved forward offering me his freehand after he laid it on my desk briefly. Putting my hand in his I allowed him to help me get to my feet. "I saw that it was your size from the looks of it one day. And no one in this town has claimed it so I thought it shouldn't go to waste. May I?" He gestured holding it up and opened it in his hands.

"Sure...thank you this wasn't really necessary." I turned around putting my back to his front feeling him place the fabric on my shoulders.

Gold smiled when I spun around so he could clasp the front pins together. "Perfect fit, dear. Just like I had thought. Now don't you worry about paying me for it. It's on the house."

"Thank you, sir." I smiled looking up to meet his gaze since he was slightly taller than me.

He waved a finger in my face grabbing a hold of his cane prepared to leave to collect the town's rent. "I told you to either call me Adam or just Gold. Now come, we have money to collect."

"Understand, Gold." I nodded wearing the red cloak since it was quite cold outside. I followed after my boss and we drove out to our stops finding leaving the inn as our final one for the evening.

Granny, the owner of the inn, spoke as we walked up the wooden stairs. "Now, what's the name?"

Opening the door, Gold and I came face to face with a blonde woman wearing a bright red jacket that I had never seen before in this town. Meaning she must be someone new which hadn't happened for 28 years if I had done my math correctly. The woman spoke her name, giving me a name to go with the new face. "Swan. Emma Swan."

Gold responds to her squeezing my hand in his and I could have sworn I heard him say something else but in a completely different voice. "Emma. What a lovely name....Red Thief."

"Did you hear someone say Red Thief?" Looking at my boss I raised a brow at him confusedly swearing that I had heard something.

He shrugged his shoulders not saying anything yet I saw some light in his eyes where he had recognized something in this room but just wasn't going to share it with me. He shifted his gaze over to the elderly woman. Granny passes Mr. Gold a roll of bills. "It's all here."

"Yes, yes, of course it is, dear. Thank you. You enjoy your stay...Emma." Gold put it away in his suit pocket touching the door handle, opening it once more calling out to me. "Eve?"

"I'm coming, sorry." I paused standing behind the blonde woman while I ran my freehand over the red fabric that I was holding on my other arm feeling like I had seen it before.

Shaking my head I pulled myself from the trance that I was in following him outside being able to hear the conversation between the girls still inside. "Who's that?" Emma asked.

Ruby peaked out the window seeing me still standing on the front porch. "Mr. Gold. He owns this place."

"The inn?" Emma asked more.

Granny reached down in the drawer pulling out a key. "No, the town. So, how long will you be with us?

"A week. Just a week." She responded.

Granny handed her the key. "Welcome to Storybrooke."

"So who is the woman that is with him if you don't mind me asking?" Emma held the key in her hands heading towards the staircase to go check out her room.

Rudy closed the curtain focusing on the new women. "I don't know if this is true or not. But most people in this town have only seen her with him. She's worked for him for years. I think she was abducted by him or something."

"Rudy!" Granny snapped at her granddaughter. "What makes you think such a thing?"

The girl put a hand on her hip. "Maybe it's the fact that she doesn't talk to anyone else in this town. She's only ever seen with him or doing small jobs for him. That's just strange to me."

"I'm sorry for my granddaughters crazy theories. Enjoy your time here, Ms. Swan." Granny ended the conversation before things went further. Emma went up the stairs and I ran down the stairs meeting Gold at his old car. We drove past the clock tower and I couldn't believe I saw the hands move.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[happyk44]

Thoughts on poseidon children with siren powers?

I actually wrote a post featuring that! I think I may have mentioned it a couple other times? But, lol, that may have just been in my head.

But ultimately, yeah!! I think it would be really cool if the Big Three kids all had manipulating people's minds powers - partly to represent the fact that their dads are kings, and have a bunch of people/creatures tied to them/at their disposal and son. And also because I think it just makes them more OP. And also because I have endless ideas of many things and it's fun to fantasize.

With Hades's children, the ability to manipulate someone lies in the soul. Compared to Charmspeak, it irreversibly changes a person because it's not just a "suggestion" that people follow through on. It's literally taking their soul and changing it. There's no waking up and thinking "why did I do that?"

I actually came up with this concept years ago (like. over a decade. christ. the passage of time). It happened in a. Very convoluted daydream I've been writing and rewriting in my head since I was 12 - essentially one of Nico's older siblings from the wayback times protects him from an enemy by telling them, "You want to walk into the ocean and not stop."

And they do. They stop and walk away. This is their soul's greatest wish. So they walk into the ocean, they drown, and at no point, not as they walk across sand, not as they inhale water, not as they land in the waiting room of the Underworld, does that want change.

However, children of Hades typically do not like using this power because a) free will, b) they disagree with the idea of changing a formed soul, it would be different if they were desiccated/severely splintered and faded, and lacked any sense of consciousness, but forcibly editing someone's living soul is essentially rewriting someone's story and it fucks up their history, and personhood, and so on, and etc, and c) living souls are gross and they don't really like touching them if they don't have to.

I've written a couple things on it before - just flick through my PJO tag and I'm sure they'll pop up eventually 😂

With Zeus's children, the ability to manipulate someone lies in the concept that Zeus is a) king of Olympus, and b) the god of law and order, and justice. It works best in battle - giving orders to enemies to make them turn on their friends, forcing comrades at arms to become more efficient, to follow through instead of veering off course.

In casual, everyday stuff, it's more influential - sort of forcing their beliefs, their rules, their "law" on other people. Jason believes wholeheartedly in the laws of New Rome, and when he sees someone who isn't following a law to the letter, he can just be like, "Don't you think following your assigned patrol route is really great?" and other people will be like "yeah! it is great" and bing bang boom, suddenly they're following the patrol rouote and refusing to deviate no matter how much others may try to convince them to.

People who are more suggestible are more likely to fall under it faster. They may even by their internal rules completely rearranged by it, thereby unable to wake up/snap out of the control. I think this depends on intensity as well and it's probably far more exhausting to really force a permanent change, whether the person in question is super susceptible to suggestion. People who embody chaos are harder to control and more likely to snap out of it when they do fall under. I like to think children of Poseidon fall under that type because the ocean is chaotic. Dionysus's kids are likely the same way 😂

(Lol, imagine Zeus giving all his kids different orders and Dionysus just squints at him, fully "Father, I cannot express how hungover I am. Also I have this cocaine party I need to attend, so sorry, here's some bitching wine to make up for it" and Zeus is just pinching the bridge of his nose and counting to ten slowly because he does not have the energy for this rn)

The kids can also push their idea of justice on other people. Jason, aware that someone else in the cohort won't do execute the correct punishment, can simply harness that belief that this punishment is the correct thing to do (according to New Rome's laws, or even Jason's own beliefs), and say, "Cut off his hand", and that person will comply. They may awaken from it afterwards and be horrified, or, if they're not as suggestible, may even be aware that they're under Jason's control, but in the moment (even if they're aware), all they'll think is "this is the right thing to do".

Also, for me anyway, children of Hades and Thanatos are basically immune to it because laws and justice differ between life and death. This is something I adapted into my OG story, so ofc I'm happy to keep it in line w/ my PJO headcanons - but everyone else can play with these concepts as they want, don't worry.

I have also talked about this before - again, flick through the PJO tag and you will likely fall across something eventually

Now! Children of Poseidon, my beloved ocean, the clingiest bastard in the world, lol, (ofc including non-clingy Neptune in this as well, all of this is equivalent to the Romans). I think siren powers only work when they're in water. Typically they need some kind of body of water: river; lake; ocean; puddle if they're desperate, but it probably won't be as effective

The more skilled kids can utilize the water in the air to use this power, but most of them can't, and need something far more concrete, something they can plant their feet in, something they can feel.

The most basic and common use of the power, ofc, is the siren song - a melody, humming, singing actually lyrics to lure or distract the people in range. Most use this in order to distract enemies away from their friends, or to lull them into a stupor for an easier kill.

Other uses of the power: mind-control (similar to Charmspeak, the more suggestible the person, the longer it lasts after the user has left the body of water), empathic manipulation (being able to manipulate someone's feelings through the use of your voice), sonic scream (Zeus's kids can probably do this too, but it's not part of their version of a manipulation power). There are probably other uses but I'm blanking rn. All I can think of is the fourth PotC movie with the mermaids and how nice that song was 😊 🎶 "my jolly sailor bold" 🎶

I think kids, like Percy, who are naturally tone deaf tend to have a far harder time using this power, much less mastering this. Daughters have an easier time mastering it (since sirens are typically depicted as woman - there were male sirens according to Wikipedia, but they faded out of art around 5BC).

And yeah! I think that's it. Oh, actually, I wrote something a long while ago (you will have to scroll quite a bit to find it, or check out my blog's archive? It's probably in 2021 or 2020?), where Nico does a similar thing, singing softly to entice souls that have fallen to the ocean to come to him. In the story, it's implied that the intensity of his song hits Percy's living soul, causing him to want to go with Nico. I think this is something for all the Hades's kids, Nico is just best at it because - in my headcanons anyway - he is most attuned to souls.

Emerged from the idea of Hades walking through a forest in the early days after the war, singing the lullabies he used to sing to his younger siblings, and souls emerging from wherever they've hidden themselves - in the dirt, in caves, in the trees, behind bushes, refusing death - to take his hand and let him walk them home.

Aaaaaaand that should be it! :) Thanks for the ask! This was fun to ramble about 😂

[soraviie]

you don't trust androids.txt

━ type: BTS (hyung line) x f! reader

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

━ pictures taken from Pinterest  ━ navigation

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

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

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

“Have I done something wrong?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you in need of assistance?”

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

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

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

You glimpse at it almost self-consciously. 

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

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

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

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

You squirm but then frown. 

“Why is your face so red?”

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

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

“Very much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gingerly, he touches your knee and you flinch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good or a bad freakout?”

He leans in to peck your lips.

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

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

“No.”

“Good, it’s too cheesy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I DON’T CARE! GET OUT!”

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

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

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

“Fucking shit.”

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

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

“Uh…are you okay?” you dumbly ask.

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

“Why do you care? I’m a machine.”

You stand awkwardly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I don’t.”

There’s a beat of stilted silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His expression is murderous.

“Why did you do that?”

Timidly, you shift in the doorway.

“I was trying to help.”

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

“Did it work?”

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

“It…It is what it is.”

“It shouldn’t have to be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May…I apply for the job?”

You blink at his demureness.

“But I’m awful.”

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

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

“I’m okay with that. Are you?”

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

“Thanks,” you snort.

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

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

“Looking forward to it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” you rasp.

He turns around, beaming wide and you shudder.

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

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

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

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

“But I…I have to make you dinner.”

“You don’t. I’ll do it on my own.”

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

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

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

“No, please, just do nothing.”

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

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

His mouth despite it being an impossibility runs dry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, use the living room.”

He nods stiffly.

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

He shakes his head sadly and solemnly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, no, don’t cry!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Right. Have you considered choosing a name?”

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

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

“It’s a lovely name.”

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

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

 © soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[hephaestuscrew]

I want to talk about this moment between Lovelace and Minkowski immediately after Cutter dies:

Lovelace GASPS in relief. Both women COLLAPSE, wounded, at the end of their ropes. LOVELACE Nice... shot. MINKOWSKI Couldn't... have done it... without you, Captain. You all right? LOVELACE No. You? MINKOWSKI No, I... I... yeah... LOVELACE Stay with me, Minkowski. MINKOWSKI Yeah... We're almost through this. We just... need to... get Eiffel... And off of their attempts to hold onto consciousness, we -

Firstly, the acting of this scene is incredible. (The timestamp is 1:42:26 if you want to listen back.) I'm in awe of the way Emma Sherr-Ziarko and Ceilia Lynn-Jacobs convey the sense of pain and exhaustion and relief and trying to hold onto consciousness. The kind of damage they've undergone has been very different - Minkowski bleeding out from her gunshot wound, Lovelace recovering from the external control that caused her to inflict that gunshot wound. But the way these experiences manifest in their breathless pained voices is pretty similar. There's almost a kind of unity in that.

I love that the first thing Minkowski and Lovelace do after Cutter dies, even as they are struggling to speak, is to acknowledge each other's contribution to this moment.

"Nice shot" feels like a comment more suited to congratulating someone on doing well at a shooting range than as a response to a friend successfully harpooning their evil boss. There's a casualness to it as a phrase that feels almost humourous in this context, but it also reflects the fact that there isn't really an established thing to say in a situation like this. (More below the cut)

Minkowski could have just taken full credit here - after all she's the one who fired the killing shot - but she doesn't. It reflects the ethos of this show that neither Cutter nor Pryce, the major antagonists, is defeated by a single protagonist alone, and that the protagonists themselves are aware of that.

This scene is an example of a kind of exchange we get a few times throughout the show, where a character asks another character if they are okay and the answer is a clear no. There's an conversation like this between Eiffel and Minkowski in Ep12 (EIFFEL: You okay, Commander? / MINKOWSKI : No, Eiffel. My second in command just betrayed me and tried really, really hard to murder both us. I’m pretty damn far from “okay.”), and between Hera and Minkowski in Ep29 (HERA: Commander? Are you okay? / MINKOWSKI: No. You? / HERA: No. But I will be.), and between Eiffel and Hera in Ep41 (EIFFEL: Are you okay now? / HERA: No, Officer Eiffel. I'm not. But... I'm going to be.) I think I've said this before in tags on a post, but there's something about that type of exchange that fits the tone of this show so well to me. Of course none of these characters are all right, not with what they've been through. But the asking is still important, because of the care these characters have for each other. And the honest answer is still important, because this is a show partly about communication and because sometimes the awful things need to be acknowledged.

I should probably also say that there are also plenty of instances in Wolf 359 where people falsely claim to be fine in response to questions like this. There's an awful lot of emotional repression and compartmentalising on that space station. Which makes it more significant when characters are honest about not being okay.

In this scene, Minkowski and Lovelace don't need to waste words on saying why they aren't all right. I picture them both looking down at Minkowski's wound as she speaks here. And they laugh, or as well as they can do in their current condition, at how absurdly obvious it is that they aren't okay. Maybe that attempt at laughter is a way to keep going. And they are both so determined to keep going.

Lovelace tells Minkowski "stay with me", even though Lovelace is struggling to remain conscious herself. There's something so tender about that to me, and it's particularly heart-wrenching given that Lovelace was forced against her will to fire the bullet that wounded Minkowski.

When Minkowski says "We're almost through this", it feels like a call back to her conversation with Eiffel earlier in this episode, when he said "We're almost through. Just one more day, and then we're done." The "this" in "almost through this" somehow holds everything that they've been through on the Hephaestus. The repeated sense that this is the last confrontation that they will face on that station is perfect for a finale. But there's also something very emotionally heavy about that finality, especially when spoken by a woman who is bleeding out from a gunshot wound. And yet through her exhaustion and her pain, Minkowski expresses hope that they will get "through this", that they are "almost" on the other side of the whole nightmare.

Neither Minkowski nor Lovelace even consider the option of not going to look for Eiffel (and Hera). It would have been perfectly reasonable for them to have gone back to the Urania to try to patch Minkowski up and to wait to see if Eiffel and Hera were able to join them. But these characters would never do that.

They go to look for Eiffel even though Minkowski has been shot and Lovelace has been subject to horrific external control. They go to look for Eiffel even though both of them are "at the end of their ropes" and struggling to hold onto consciousness. They go to look for Eiffel even though waiting on the Urania was the plan they'd agreed upon with Hera. They go to look for Eiffel even though, for all they know, Eiffel and Hera might have the situation completely handled, or might even already be safely on the Urania. They go to look for Eiffel (and Hera) because only once they are all together can they consider themselves "through this".

[inksandpensblog]

A friend of a friend was doing a Google survey recently on what names the fandom uses for various characters. It included Orange, also known as Second, sometimes shortened to Sec, and occasionally abbreviated as TSC which is understood to stand for The Second Coming.

Participants in the survey were instructed to select, from a list of options, which name they primarily use for each of the characters featured. One of the examples given for clarification is that many people don't refer to Chosen by his full title of "The Chosen One" in regular conversation. Which makes sense. I tend to shorten his name to Chosen in casual conversation, whether speaking or typing; I don't usually abbreviate his name as TCO unless I tag him as such so a post reaches more people.

But what tripped me up was the other example, in reference to Orange: that being, using the name Orange to refer to him in the AvM series, but using the name Second to refer to him in the main AvA series.

...do...do people really do that? Is that how a bunch of you have been doing this?

If so, I'd really like to know why because just hearing about it like this perplexes me.

Does it come from the idea that AvA and AvM are separate timelines, that they don't share continuity? I'd heard that idea mentioned some time ago and, while I admit that the in-story chronology of Alan's videos as a whole is a mess (some information isn't even consistent between multiple videos of the same event, see: King losing his child to a different version of Minecraft in the s3 finale than is shown in the full season compilation), I don't really understand why that's enough to say they're separate continuities.

In my mind, there are too many things that fall apart if we consider these disconnected series featuring different iterations of the characters. If AvA Yellow isn't also AvM Yellow, then there's no explanation for Yellow being able to figure out a way to render a cursor into the outernet in The Showdown, because we never see AvA Yellow working with redstone so his capability has no explanation. If AvM are the only videos you know Purple from, then you won't get why the color gang are friendly with him at the end of The Witch episode because you aren't considering the events of AvLeague.

And I forget where I saw this comment, I think it was on YouTube somewhere, but somebody said that AvA Orange and AvM Orange are practically different characters and- I don't get it?? What did they see that I'm not seeing? Where's the divide? Can someone illuminate it for me???

As far as naming conventions, I do use both names for him and have reasons for which name gets used at which time, but it's not to distinguish between series, because I do believe AvA Orange and AvM Orange to be the same character.

I use the name Second to refer to him at times when his powers are active; specifically, the powers that awoke in full for the first time during The Showdown. This began as a way to demonstrate how his powers seemed to act on their own merit without his conscious input in that episode, since he has no memory of them or of anything he did while they were active. (A bit like ???% for those of you familiar with Mob Psycho 100.) But if such a time comes when he is able to maintain consciousness while his powers are active and use them deliberately, I will still continue to call him by the name Second during those times.

I use the name Orange to refer to him the rest of the time, when his powers either are dormant or are unconsciously active, such as when his drawings self-animate.