#LISTEN: be pissy all you want but i’m doing it for your own good

[liyazaki]

the ultimate compliment to a GIF maker: grudging “fucking FINE- you win; I’ll watch the damn thing” tags.

[papaya-twinks]

So how about Lando shouting at the reader in anger and then feeling bad and making it to up like full on angst to fluff.. u can include Smut but upto you

Warnings: Smut, 18+, if you squint you see fingering, angst, crying, stress.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - angst is my entire life tbh

“Hi Lando,” you said, walking into the living room as he frowned, waving absent-mindedly as he scrolled through his phone. He didn’t pay attention to anything you did, as you sat down on the sofa next to him, craning to see what was on his phone. “Y/N,” he said, nudging your cheek away. “What are you doing?” you brushed it off. “Work,” he replied curtly. “What work?” you asked - you’d had your own bad days too, you weren’t gonna get hurt by it. “Just work, Y/N,” he rolled his eyes as you raised an eyebrow. 

That was new. Lando with a pissy attitude was new. “Why can’t I see? Got a new girl?” you asked sarcastically. Maybe that was good ar as he scoffed. “Oh please, with how nosy you are, anyone would be better then you!” he snapped, standing up as you opened your mouth, no sound coming out your mouth. “And besides, all you do is go around and stick your nose in everyone’s business, it’s just downright annoying and you’re really fucking ti…” his voice trailed off as he looked at you, gulping at the sight in front of him. 

Your lips were parted with shock, eyes glistening slightly and body shaking. He’d never, ever said anything near as mean as what he just did. “Okay,” you muttered, voice small as you turned around, hurrying out the room. You’d gotten mad at him before, but never to that extent. “Wait, Y/N,” you heard his voice behind you but you ignored it, running up the stairs, tears down your face. 

And then came to questions. The self blame. What if he really he’d been talking to another girl? Would he do that to you? You’d never once considered the fact that your boyfriend, and anyone else, was perfectly capable of cheating. Lando had tried to talk to you numerous times, knocking on the door and trying to plea with you, only to be rejected by your silence, music blaring in your ears. 

Finally, he stopped. Finally, you had peace to debate what to do, or when to leave the damn room. “Y/N,” the door opened, one hour since Lando had tried to talk to you. He hadn’t given up. You looked up. “We need to talk,” he said. You tapped your headphones, showing you couldn’t hear him as he sighed. “Just unplug them,” he gestured, showing what he wanted. You shook your head, turning the volume up purposefully. 

“Y/N!” he groaned, grabbing your phone and slamming the volume down. “What?” you asked, dropping the now silent headphones. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, please listen,” he pleaded, his face full of apology as you sighed, head back and eyes brimming again. “No, doll, please don’t…” he said,d stepping forward to console you. “Don’t, please,” you said, hand pushing his chest away as he inhaled. “You’re right, you have every right to do that,” he said, gulping. 

“It’s just work,” he sighed, “Zak says I’m not doing enough for my seat and I just can’t with all the pressure and I took it out on you,”. You sighed again. “Then you should’ve spoken to me,” you sniffed. “I know,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Princess,” he opened his arms, wrapping them around you as you rested your head on his chest. “You’re pretty,” he said, drawing small circles on the small of your back. “You’re pretty decent yourself,” you mumbled into his stomach as he let out a laugh. 

“Y’know, sex never didn’t help,” you shrugged, eyeing his semi hard joggers from where your hand had rested. He’d never say no to sex. “Apology sex,” he grinned, flipping you onto your back. “Or punishment for you,” you hummed, a small smirk on your face as he scoffed. “Yeah yeah, no thanks,” he scoffed, working his fingers under your panties, rubbing small strokes between your folds. 

“Lando,” you gasped, arching your back slightly. He hummed, acknowledging the sensation. “Pretty when you obey, aren’t you doll?” he asked, dropping his joggers onto the floor. “Not gonna make you wait, pretty,” he said, aligning himself with you. And he was true to his word, pushing into you with a groan. 

As usual, his pace was relentless, hammering into you as you moaned, his name like a chant in your mouth. Your eyes rolled slightly, making him frown. “Stay with me doll,“ he tapped your cheek with his finger as your eyes refocused. “I will,” you whined, hand clawing at his chest as you felt the knot in your stomach. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said, repeating the same words as he felt himself spill into you, you following with him. Maybe he should get mad at you often. 

A/N - am grinding through these as quick as I cannnn

[redr0sewrites]

omg lowkey having a shitass day and i’m too tired to write for my comfort character and your my fav so 😭😭 literally just any fluffy vox headcanons. literally any! could be only one paragraph IDC i just think it’s so cute how you write him 🙏🙏

OFCCCC!!!!! heres some hcs ab vox comforting u after a long day ♥️

🥀 Cw: none, just fluff!

vox is no stranger to long, tiring days. he's had his fair share of shitty work days and when he comes home to see you exhausted, he immediately notices what's wrong.

vox is very goofy, he's good at reading people and can immediately know if someone's upset, but it's how he reacts that throws him off. like he'll notice something is wrong but won't know how to respond.

he's so used to manipulating people (such as valentino) or just shoving down his own emotions to put on a persona that he isn't great at verbally comforting someone, but his actions make up for it.

he pulls you onto his lap and will run his hand up and down your back to soothe you. while his claws are sharp, he would never hurt you with them, and its much more of a ticklish sensation then anything

speaking of, vox loves it when you laugh. if you're pissed at someone in particular, he will definitely make fun of them to help cheer you up. don't be surprised if they "disappear".... he is an overlord after all. he'd only do this if you want him too tho

vox claims he isn't insecure, but in reality he knows exactly how it feels to feel shitty about everything around you. he's surprisingly empathetic, if you're in a relationship with him he definitely cares about you a lot and i genuinely see him being upset in the situation that you're upset

if you cry, vox may be a little awkward but will go to get you a glass of water. he'll also dim the light of his screen to make sure he doesn't give you a headache and, if you're really upset or tired, he may even take the day off of work to comfort you

vox is the type to turn on soft music when you're sad and pull you into a slow dance right in the middle of your apartment. he doesn't care that you're bleary eyed and that you keep stepping on his feet, he doesn't care that its sappy or that it makes him seem vulnerable to care about you so much. as long as he gets to see you smile and giggle as you both clumsily swirl around eachother, he's content in staying in this moment forever.

if you're ever angry/frustrated and take it out on him, he may be a little pissy but he can take it, especially if you feel really bad afterwards. he doesn't take it to heart if you have a bad day and snap at him, hell, he does it all the time. he may be a little pouty if you don't apologize but don't worry he'll get over it in a few minutes once he sees how tired you are

while vox is a little chaotic, he's a genuinely good person to vent too because he will literally always agree with you no matter what. you murder someone? its their fault for walking into your knife. he absolutely supports your rights (and wrongs) no matter what

he's also a pretty good listener in general because he just. listens. he doesn't give unnecessary input, he doesn't try to play devils advocate, he just listens and shows interest in what you have to say and comforts you when necessary. he doesn't see why thats such a big deal, but he genuinely is a pretty decent listener.

vox is also a yapper though, if you need to get your mind off of your day just tell him and he'll start explaining the most random things to you. oh, you had something really embarrassing happen today and you want to forget about it? well now you're going to listen to 500 shark facts while also hearing the entire princess bride lore. sorry not sorry.

vox would find the shittiest movie with the worst cgi imaginable for you both to watch after a long day, he loves curling up with you on the couch and making fun of horribly animated graphics together

i also think he's (secretly) a fan of corny romance films and/or romcoms, and would want to recreate cute scenes with you (but would literally never tell you that) so you both may end up watching cutesy romance movies too

(this is the song i had in mind bc its soo vox, so u can listen to this for the "full experience")

"aw c'mon bub, don't tell me your too mopey to dance?" vox extended his hand to you, yet his smile was a little more forced than usual. his eyes were wide on his screen, almost concerned about the teats staining your cheeks.

"m' fine voxy.." you mutter, turning away. "it was just a bad day." vox pouts, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

"trust me, this will make you feel better," he assured, pulling you to your feet. vox snapped his fingers and a bright, upbeat tune began to play in the background. pulling you in close, vox twirled you around before stepping back, switching to a simple slow dance.

you can't help a soft smile from creeping onto your face as vox continues to exaggeratedly spin and pull you around. hell, if anyone could see you both now, they'd be shocked.

"who knew that the overlord of technology was such a sap?" you giggle, pulling vox down by his tie to give him a kiss, and he chuckles in response. vox pouts, yet his eyes crinkle a bit as a genuine smile graces his features. "only for you!!".

i saw this and immediately opened my drafts 🫡 it is a CRIME that i haven't written any vox fluff when he's literally one of my fav pookies. i have literally only written smut for him 😭 anyways, i hope this made ur day at least a bit better!!!! sending lots of love ur way ♥️♥️♥️♥️

also i am SO honored to be called ur favorite bc hello??? ur my favorite too?????

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

[moxfirefly]

I love your writing so much and how you write the turtle just ugh ♥️ So I’ve been in my very angsty mood lately so I’m thinking of Raphael x F!reader? If you don’t mind?

The reader is a anti-hero type of character doesn’t feel like a good influence on Raph who is more of the hero type. Especially since his family are against the relationship because of the reader’s morals so they have her second guessing herself. Raphael disagrees with his family and is a stubborn mofo as usual. Lmao

"Why are you running? Why is it that every time I get close to you, you take off? What are you so scared of?"

"I'm going to kiss you. Okay? Just...just let me kiss you."

Listen I’m having a heart attack at having you in my inbox because I’m a HUGE HUGE fan of yours and like yeah, no pressure, I’m fine, I’m alright,

Rated Mature (suggestive themes)

There were many instances where you could feel Leo burning a hole through the back of your head, the grimace he sported the second he could spot you out on the open was enough to make your eyes roll. You knew having him be anything but pissy wasn’t going to be an option when Raph had told you about him.

The tallest one wasn’t any different, he was subtle sure but you’ve changed enough cellphones in 3 months just paranoid over being tapped. He observed, calculated, probably thought up of ways of his own to sabotage.

The youngest seemed stuck between feeling joy for his older brother but the worry was there, the second guessing resonated in his blue eyes whenever you rode up in your motorcycle looking a little worse for wear. What had you been doing the week you’d gone radio silent? Why could he smell blood on you? Why were your knuckles so bruised?

It was natural for Raphael’s family to want to shield him, Splinter especially, it was normal that you came from the proverbial wrong side of the tracks.

But couldn’t they see?

You cared for him, deeply. Wanted him, desired him, he made the bullshit somehow fade away.

But those cold gazes, the ironic judgment they held the second Raph ran off towards you, you could picture it.

So when Raph ran, so did you.

Somehow keeping a step away to his forward steps.

Because now whenever he reached out you felt a twinge of unworthiness at his touch.

Because maybe you were as bad as they thought you were, maybe you were a bad influence, something sent to break him apart and condemn.

You wrist hurt from holding onto the throttle, the ride back into the city an all too familiar one. You could feel your phone vibrate in the inside pocket of your jacket and while could guess, you tried to ignore it.

Maybe it due time to quietly slip away, Raph was good, he was a genuinely good man who stood for what he did. Why corrupted him (were you?) why give this a death sentence? (Was it?) why hurt yourself more? (Will it hurt more when you leave?)

You pulled into the subterranean garage of the apartment building you’d taken up residence in. You walked the bike towards the spot and sighed. Your hands were shaking, vibrating from the buzzing of the night ride.

“Ya planning on just never answering?” It came from the shadows, the deep baritone you often heard in your brain at all hours of the day.

Raph stepped out of the dark corner of the garage with a tension in his shoulders that must’ve ached. Taking off your helmet and setting it on the bike, you watched from your tousled locks at a man you found peace in.

Leaving peace behind wouldn’t be easy.

“It was a busy night, came back into the city just now.” You kept your gaze adverted, anywhere where it wouldn’t hurt to see worries green eyes staring back.

“It’s been a week, kid…what’s going on?” What did I do?

Was all you could hear deep within the swallowing of his throat.

“Nothing, had a job, did the job, took longer.” You hated how dry you sounded, sandpaper words that could damage those scales of his.

When Raph took a step to greet you, touch you, you took a small one back.

When you chanced a look at him, well it was easier to eat glass than watch that look.

“Raph—“

“Why are you running? Why is it that every time I get close to you, you take off? What are you so scared of?” He was close now, a large mitt reaching for your chin, gently oh so painfully gently caressing the outline of your jaw. You looked up, eyes shaky from finding any way to let him go, to push him away.

“You know why—“

He didn’t let you finish again.

“I don’t fucking care, this is what I want, you, I want you.” He cupped your cheek, small and vulnerable against his large palm.

You drowned in the possibility of leaving him, so when you remained silent, didn’t say anything, Raph leaned down.

“I’m going to kiss you. Okay? Just…Just let me kiss you.” The need in his voice, the want so visceral it made you feel it all the same.

When Raph’s lips met yours, for those little moments you allowed yourself the luxury of greed.

[therulerofallpotatos]

I love your comments! 🌺 Why do you think people hate ship Fivela so much?

You mean besides hayes code loving puritanical thought police reasons that pretend they aren’t the exact same as the Moms of Liberty gay book burning group with a leftist hat on?

That is 90% of it.

But for the more reasonable ones who simply dislike the ship personally, it’s not unreasonable to assume a lot of people just don’t like thinking of Aiden’s face and romance in the same sentence. Especially if you also look at the way people treat the ace! Five headcanon as if it’s canon when in fact there has never been any evidence supporting that headcanon either in the show or the original comics. Even less so in the comics, where Five is in fact a lecherous old man who is seen multiple times with strippers. People latched onto it either because they were projecting, wanted to infantilize Five (and ace people for that matter), or think the idea of a “13yo” having lustful thoughts is icky (side note: teenagers being horny is a well documented fact. pretending it doesn’t happen literally never led to anything good historically speaking. Side side note: Five is in his 50s and pushing 70 by the last episode.). Also I say “icky” because i keep seeing words like that as if we’re all a bunch of five year olds on the playground and someone’s parents’ kissed in front of us. I digress.

Most of this is whatever. Ship and let ship also means you’re welcome to have your notp. Just don’t be a judgemental dick about it. I only take issue when it is being judgemental or it’s crossing over into other behavior. Specifically the infantilization of asexuals, which as an ace myself I find frustrating to say the least. (treating asexual people like innocent little babies is acephobic. If you treat me like I don’t know what sex is or can’t possibly have an “unpure” thought, I will bite you and it will not be fun)

Aside from all that. There’s also just plain old ship wars. Nenufair has referred to Liliego as a cost sunk fallacy and that is at least partly true. I don’t dislike the ship, personally, but some people just cannot handle when their ship doesn’t go canon, isn’t validated in some perceived way, or isn’t as popular as a different ship. It’s a tale as old as toxic fandom practices and dressing it up in therapy speak and activist terms doesn’t make it any less a ship war. You’re just being extra insulting to people who are affected by and fight for those real issues on top of being obnoxious. If you just want more attention on your otp, then being nasty about it just makes other people want to block your favorite tag altogether. It’s no way to encourage creativity and discussion.

The execution of Fivela going canon is it’s own discussion which some people liked and some people didn’t whether they shipped it or not. I have mixed feelings personally, and yeah. I would have written certain things differently, but I’m also not the author and never was. I didn’t put Five on a pedestal the way some other people seem to have, and I’m partial to happier endings but that’s my writing preferences. This wasn’t actually my story, and I am mostly content to be along for the ride. A lot of people seem pissed because this wasn’t something they wanted and the writers didn’t listen and it’s really just revealing how entitled they felt to the team just taking their order down like this is a restaurant and not a story. People are rabid right now about the whole season and their notp going canon is an easy thing to latch onto especially if they need to address the cop in their head. This is the same fandom that seethes when Allison and Luther have a cute little childhood sweathearts romance in the show adapted from the incest superhero comics. Just like people go pissy when there’s incest in their incest dragons show or gore in their violence on display anime.

A lot of people also didn’t see it coming and felt blindsided. Some are going back and realizing the tension was always there, but many refuse to see it. There’s nothing like willful blindness to fuel a good outrage.

And for some it’s just not their cup of tea, but I doubt they’re the ones screaming right now. Not everyone likes an enemies to lovers arc or messy dynamics or love triangles. Some have been burned by poorly executed tropes in the past. Some just prefer softer less dynamic relationship development. I can’t relate, but that’s fine.

Of course there’s also anyone convinced that Aiden must have been coerced or something into doing a simple kiss scene as a grown actor pushing twenty years old. People love infantilizing Aiden and it’s actually really getting on my nerves. The whole age gap discourse in general has been poisoned by pedo hysteria and judgement assholes treating grown adults like babies who can’t possibly know what’s best for them instead of looking at each individual relationship and looking for mistreatment. It’s much easier to assign a number to things as a shortcut for “bad” and “good” than to recognize abusive behavior both in others and yourself. I’ve seen nothing to suggest Aiden was mistreated on set in regards to his romance arc with Lila, and unless I do, I’m not going to assume the worst here anymore than I did when Hermione and Ron got together or...I don’t know, Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.

Anyways I have a job interview to get to so I’m sorry if this is barely coherent ramblings. I just woke up and I had some venting in me ig. if someone more eloquent than me wants to expand on anything I said, I just ask we try to remain civil.

[dottie-writes-tmnt]

Confessions (pt. 2)

This is part 9 of my fic A New Kind of Familiar. Tags and other chapters can be found here!

No summary actually

They talk about Leo and Karai in this chapter. (Nickelodeon was fucked up for that. Literally after it was revealed they were siblings they were still romantic with each other.) And they talk about Leo having hallucinations

Donnie groaned, letting his head fall forward to hit the table. The lab door opened and closed, Mikey coming over to grab his bandanna tails before he could start banging his head on the table.

“Breakfast, Dee,” the snapper said, holding the plate out of the way in case of the wood turtle lashing out. He offered no response, looking at the snapper.

“If I…if I can’t do this…what’s gonna happen to him? What’s gonna happen to us?”

“Oh, wow, mind reader. I was thinking about that last night. Dee, you know I’ve been thinking about destiny and all that ever since…well. You know.”

And he did. Renet had accidentally-on-purpose (not really, it was an accident on her part but it was something their timeline required) sent herself and Mikey somewhere and the time scepter wouldn’t work. While they were there, Mikey developed some abilities. Things came to him in dreams, he was even more emotionally aware than before, and he was probably strong enough to bench press Leatherhead.

“I’m saying this for a reason, pay attention. I had a dream last night. I saw Raph. It was blurry, but…he looked happy. Happier than he’s ever been with us. I think this is destiny sending him away for some character development, and just like the time scepter wouldn’t bring us back until everything had happened, your machine won’t work until that’s all complete, too. So don’t stress, Dee. I’ll even talk to Leo.”

“He’s been talking to the hallucinations again,” Donnie felt he should inform. His baby brother froze where he’d been getting up, half propped up on the table now. “Said Splinter thinks I should work harder. Which, yeah, he would say that, but he’s not here. And we watched Splinter’s ghost pass on for good. But the moment I said that he got all pissy and… you know as long as he’s talking to things that aren’t real, you can’t get through to him.”

Mikey settled back down, sighing.

“We need to get him out more.”

“Probably.”

The duo sat there, listening to Leo’s footsteps near the lab, and to Donnie’s surprise, Mikey got up and locked the door.

“Mikey, what are you doing? He’s just gonna be even more mad when he sees me!”

“You’re not doing good and you’re just gonna get worse if Leo can talk to you,” the snapper explained, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the table next to Donnie. “And I don’t… Dee, I don’t want all of us to drown just because he is.”

Donnie had never been good at comfort. He had never been good at much besides technology, honestly. Not good at people or being social or anything of the likes. He didn’t know why. But he figured trying wouldn’t hurt. He set a hand on his little brother’s knee, sighing deeply.

“Then we’ll be each other’s lifeboats.”

 

——

 

Leo was more than a little worried about his twin, who had gotten a board out and was writing notes all over it, drawing lines between things like those crazy people in movies.

“So we all agree that he should want to go back if he had a pleasant experience living there, right? Logically, he should miss his brothers.”

“Yeah, but he seemed so…upset when he thought I was gonna send him back.”

“Maybe he’s just attached to us too?”

“No, he talked like they were the worst people alive.”

“I noticed the same thing when he was helping me cook on the first chapter— I mean, night he was here!”

“I’m kinda worried.”

“And we all know what he said about Splinter, but he was probably thinking of his own.”

“That doesn’t make it any better, Leo,” Raph pointed out.

“I know. But someone banned us from asking about his brothers at all.”

“I didn’t wanna make him upset considering he’d only been here for not even a day at the time,” the snapper defended. Mikey shut them both up with a glare.

“We should talk to him. Assuming won’t do anyone any good.”

“Great idea, hermano—“

“Me and Donnie. Sound good? Good. I’ll cook, just send him in about 30 minutes from now. And don’t worry, you two will get your turn. I just don’t wanna overwhelm him with all four of us. And he may be a tad embarrassed about that night, Leo. Raph, he looks up to you. He won’t wanna seem ‘weak’.”

That made sense. Leon sighed.

“Fine.”

 

—

 

Donnie sat at the table, messing around on his phone until Mikey finished cooking, setting the plates so that he and Mikey would be across from Ruby. Almost on cue, right as Mikey closed the fridge, the terrapin walked in.

“You guys wanted to talk? I was doin’ somethin’.”

“Yeah, we did, but I’m sorry we interrupted you,” Mikey said, gesturing for Ruby to sit.

“What were you working on, though?” Donnie asked. Ruby perked up a little.

“I was making some compression gloves for Casey. She says her hands hurt when she crochets and she wishes she had some, so.”

“That’s nice of you,” Mikey chirped, adjusting his glasses. His back was to Ruby. “I’m sure she’ll love them! Especially considering she’s been doing a lot of crocheting recently.”

“Yeah.”

Finally, Mikey turned around and sat next to Donnie. The trio continued to make small talk, Mikey waiting for Ruby to finish eating before sighing. He gave the smallest terrapin a smile.

“Ruby, do you mind telling us about your brothers?”

The relaxed but slightly nervous expression fell, replaced by all those barbed walls falling into place. Immediately. Though Donnie had expected as much.

“Yes, I mind very much. Why? What do you want to know? I already told you they’re perfect at everything they do. Did I say something? I don’t want to talk about them,” the box turtle snapped immediately, already moving to stand up.

“Why not? Did they do something?”

“I said I don’t! Why?! Is there something you’re looking for? They aren’t anything like you, if that’s what you’re thinking, and they’re exact opposites of me.”

“That isn’t what I’m asking for,” Mikey murmured, and Ruby’s head twitched to the side slightly, a behavior Donnie had picked up on from the terrapin when he was in upsetting situations. Donnie watched as the box turtle tapped his fingers against his thighs, an act of nervousness. Stimming.

“Father loved Leo,” he started, spitting the word like a curse, like a slur, through a snout full of poison and hurt. “Donnie makes things, and Mikey draws. Leo was a star student. Donnie’s smart. None of them have tempers like mine. What else do you wanna know? They’re perfect,” Ruby spat through vitriol-coated teeth.

“I wanna know how you feel about them. You’re giving me qualities out of a book. I wanna know about your brothers from you.”

Ruby’s head twitched yet again, the terrapin narrowing his eyes for a moment.

“I can guarantee you don’t.”

“I don’t know them. I don’t care about them. There isn’t an image to shatter.”

Ruby stared at Mikey, skeptical of that calm, caring smile. Finally, the red-wearing box turtle sighed.

“Fine. Get everybody in here, though, because I’m not repeating myself.”

“Well, I re—“

Mikey kicked him. He wasn’t sure why. He was just going to assure Ruby that he wouldn’t have to repeat himself, since he recorded everything. Whatever. He got up.

“I’ll go retrieve the others.”

 

—

 

Ruby wanted to bury himself. He could’ve walked away from this situation. Now the eyes were on him, and he wanted to shrink into a hole, but it was too late now.

“Mikey was still awesome. He was talented, like…he was good at art and stuff, and Splinter was always going on and on about how we needed to be like Mikey because he had more raw talent than all of us combined, especially me. Because Mikey was all happy n shit.

“He liked to piss me off on purpose to see how far he could push me, cuz it was funny apparently. But then he’d get pissy when I did get pissed off, but when I was nice, it was like the world was fucking ending. His insults were always somethin’ special. I think he just liked making me feel guilty, though.”

He glanced up, immediately deciding he didn’t like the looks on their faces.

“Donnie was still smart. Splinter wanted me to be like him because thinking rationally instead of emotionally was an asset I should have. He wasn’t that bad, I guess, he just used big words and said he liked making me feel stupid. And when we were kids, he tried some shit, but we were kids. I think he was the best to me out of them all—“

“What did he try?” Mikey asked, gently.

“Nothin’ big.”

“If it wasn’t anything big, you wouldn’t have said anything,” the box turtle murmured.

“He just let loose his ant farm in my room, it was a joke. He knew I was scared of bugs, and he thought it’d be funny. Everyone got a good laugh out of it and I moved rooms.”

“But…you weren’t laughing, were you?”

That confused him. Of course he wasn’t laughing, he’d been terrified, he’d cried, and then they all just laughed at him and he’d had to replace everything, and poor Spike’s shell had been filled with even more bugs, and April had had to take him to the vet because Ruby couldn’t. But it was just a joke that Ruby overreacted about. He said as much and Mikey simply shook his head.

“It wasn’t a good joke. Tell me about Leo,” the box turtle prompted, and Ruby felt the poison fill his mouth.

“He’s perfect,” he spat. “Splinter’s star student. Splinter’s favorite. The only one Splinter ever listened to, really. He’s everything I’m not. He never loses his cool, he always falls into line, and he annoys the crap out of me. He was the last to cooperate when I came out, though. Kept sayin’ I couldn’t change my gender ‘n stuff.

“Yaknow, like father like son or somethin’. When Splinter died, he appointed himself as the Sensei. And then shit really went downhill. I could never catch a fuckin’ break. Then we killed the Shredder. Then we killed him again. And then Leo decided to get with his sister. But Leo’s always like that. Says you shouldn’t do one thing then does something worse. He used to make me mad on purpose when we were younger. Now it’s just obvious he doesn’t like me.”

“Do you like them? ” Leo questioned, voice oddly gentle.

“Sometimes. When they’re not being dumbasses.”

“And, Ruby, you do know that what they did…isn’t right, don’t you?” Mikey questioned, slowly.

“I did worse,” he was quick to defend them even still. “I’m always snapping at them and being a dick.”

“Because they intentionally push your buttons.”

“Well— but—“

“They were wrong for what they did. Would you ever do any of that to any of us?”

“Of course not! Why the fuck would I—“

Oh.

He frowned, feeling oddly small. Mikey smiled softly, a sad thing, but not pitying.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

He gave a tiny nod. That was why he thought the things he thought. The tiny voice in his head always sounded suspiciously like Leo, back from when they were little and he’d constantly try to scare him by saying the others were talking about him or thinking things about him even if they weren’t.

He got angry because his brothers would always make fun of him when he cried. He was fucked up like this because of the way they shaped him.

He was shocked out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up to see Red.

“They’re the ones that lost someone great. Yer fuckin’ awesome, and if they failed to see that, then they have no place in your life,” the snapper said firmly even as he pulled Ruby into a hug and rubbed his shell while he sniffled. The others moved to join, and they ended up having another movie night.

Ruby borrowed Donnie’s headphones and didn’t talk for the rest of the night— the words just wouldn’t come, which happened a lot more often than he would like and was always frustrating —but he dozed where he was comfortably wedged between Donnie’s oddly comfortable soft shell and Junior.

Mikey was like a living weighted blanket on his lap, humming along to the songs and applauding the twins’ duetted performance of Poor Unfortunate Souls. His head was filled with cotton, but that was fine, he supposed. Ruby didn’t really want to think after what happened earlier, anyway.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

[i-eat-worlds]

Whumpcember Day 28-Abandoned

@whumpcember

cw: denial of medical care, neglect, spy whump, victim blaming, institutional ickiness

Alex signed, listening to the phone ring in her ear. She was stuffed into a booth in a tiny little restaurant, vinyl upholstery slippery underneath her pants. It was her third call, and her handler had yet to pick up.

It was raid night, and Zorland was finally going to be arrested. Conveniently, it had been scheduled on the same day she was out working for him, meaning she wouldn’t be around when the hammer dropped. Seventy-three wanted to go after the remnants of the organization that he’d left behind, and that meant her cover would need to remain intact.

The mission itself had gone well, but an acid blast had clipped her arm. She could feel it throbbing under her jacket. This was on top of the bruised ribs and the general sore spots from Zorland’s punishment. She was exhausted and definitely dehydrated, but she was still happy.

She’d never have to put up with Zorland ever again. He was gone.

Finally, her handler picked up. This phone didn’t have any of the INSUPA security on it, in case it was discovered. “What do you want?” He sounded annoyed, the hustle and bustle of a scene behind him.

“Good evening to you, sir,” she grumbled. “I got hit by an acid-slinger, and I’ve got some residual shit from Zorland. I need medical.”

There was an unhappy huff from the other side of the phone. “I know, just give me a second.” His voice returned to full volume. “I’m sorry, I just don’t think that’d be possible.”

She tried not to groan at the prospect of having to treat her own wounds again. “It doesn’t need to be at a center. Just have a guy bring a bag and meet me at a hotel or something.”

“It’s too risky.” It felt like he was scolding her for asking. “We need you to be able to integrate with the rest of the shadow. I’m afraid there can be no risk of compromise.”

She swallowed, resigning herself to her fate. “Yes, sir.” The frustration was hard to keep out of her voice.

“Don’t take that tone with me.” He must’ve been more pissy than usual. “When you joined us, you signed all that over. Rember, this was your choice.” There was a pause as he let his words settle. “Next check in is in two days, between two and three hours. Don’t miss it.”

The line went dead.

For some reason, Alex found herself fighting back tears. Wiping her eyes, she grabbed her battered due bag and shuffled to the bathroom.

At least in there, she could tend to wounds and cry in peace.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 31: On the Scent

If you're on the scent for spoilers, keep reading! If you don't want to know everything about The Wheel of Time, including the books, show, comics, and card game all compressed into like, a couple thousand words inexplicably, definitely don't keep reading. The second you click that button everything will be psychically uploaded to your brain. I mean uh... something on theme... scentically uploaded to your nose.

We have a rising sun chapter as we're still in Cairhien and Thom's not around.

He gave one abrupt shudder and stopped laughing; she left him to crouch over Hurin.

Another not subtle thing to be doing. It's a good thing these Cairhienien are so politically suspicious that they miss the much greater threat right in front of them.

He said he didn’t know it, but he had a smile that shouted ‘lie’ a mile off.

Perrin could probably smell the lies on the dude before he opened his mouth.

I couldn’t hear what she said, but I didn’t know whether his eyes were going to pop out of his head or he was going to swallow his tongue first.

I'm sure that Verin just did the usual Aes Sedai thing and that the specifics aren't important, but it amuses me to imagine that she just told the dude the truth straight out.

He heard gasps from the Cairhienin listening, but he did not care. They could play their Great Game if they wanted, but Ingtar had come, and he was finished with it at last.

This is called dramatic irony and also counting your chickens before they hatch and whatnot.

Rand glanced at Perrin—He’s a sniffer?—and found Perrin studying him in return. He thought Perrin muttered something. Shadowkiller?

Have you boys tried talking to each other about your-

Nope. Can't even pretend to ask with a straight face.

Everyone was watching now—not even Cuale gave any attention to his own burning inn—and Rand thought a little caution might not be amiss after all.

Exactly Rand. You're surrounded by strangers in an immediate sense and surrounded by Darkfriends in a metaphorical sense. No point celebrating being free just yet.

Suddenly he noticed that the others were looking at him, Verin and Ingtar, Mat and Perrin. He realized what he had been doing, and his face colored. “I am sorry, Ingtar. It’s just that I’ve become used to being in charge, I suppose. I’m not trying to take your place.”

It's fascinating, how this boy has to be dragged kicking and screaming into everything, but once he accepts it he just takes to it instantly. A couple weeks' leadership and the boy completely forgets Ingtar's even there.

You can see why Demandred, Sammael, and Etcetera'al got so pissy.

She’s Moiraine’s eyes watching me, Moiraine’s hand trying to pull my strings. But I have cut the strings.

If only Rand had tried to learn about politics while he was here. He might have realized that Verin knowing things doesn't at all mean she's on Moiraine's side.

I guess that would probably have only made him more suspicious.

Also I forgot to mention her directly when taking these notes but Tiedra's plump so we know she's a good innkeeper.

It almost seemed to him that she was in the room with him, that he could smell her perfume, so much so that he looked around, and laughed to find himself alone.

It wouldn't surprise me at all if she had popped in invisibly somehow.

It was him, he thought. Rand is the Shadowkiller. Light, what’s happening to all of us? His hands tightened into fists, large and square. These hands were meant for a smith’s hammer, not an axe.

The duality that Perrin will be grappling with rears its ugly head. At last he already knows the answer. Though that really just makes his plot arc all the more frustrating.

Also, points to Perrin for pulling off having Rand in his POV instead of what usually happens (thus far in the series) and Rand hogging the spotlight. This isn't the first time this has happened (Egwene did it back in Fal Dara), but it does show the transition this series is slowly undergoing.

One of Mat’s eggs hit the floor and cracked. He did not look at it, though. He was looking at Rand, and Ingtar had turned around.

Mat, the so-called idiot, irresponsible fool: Has a tell about Rand's situation but volunteers nothing and doesn't cause any trouble.

Perrin realized he was staring, too. “Well, he did not fly,” he said. “I don’t see any wings. Maybe he has more important things to tell us.” Verin shifted her attention to him, just for a moment. He managed to meet her eyes, but he was the first to look away.

Perrin, the so-called quiet, responsible kid: Tries to get in a fight with a woman several decades his senior over his friend's honor.

“Interesting,” the Aes Sedai said, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I would very much like to meet this girl. If she can use a Portal Stone. . . . Even that name is not very widely known.”

Verin must suspect. How panicked does this make her?

Rand asked the innkeeper if there were any more books, and she brought him The Travels of Jain Farstrider. Perrin liked that one, too, with its stories of adventures among the Sea Folk and journeys to the lands beyond the Aiel Waste, where silk came from.

Is this our first real Shara reference? I think it might be.

The Shienaran played with a slashing, daring style. Perrin had always played doggedly, giving ground reluctantly, but he found himself placing the stones with as much recklessness as Ingtar. Most of the games ended in a draw, but he managed to win as many as Ingtar did.

Ignore the terrible pun and focus on how Perrin is being shifted by his experiences as well. Perhaps this is why he talked back to Verin earlier.

“There are Darkfriends among the high as well as the low,” Verin said smoothly. “The mighty give their souls to the Shadow as often as the weak.” Ingtar scowled as if he did not want to think of that.

Frankly Verin, if there weren't so few Aes Sedai I'd argue the Tower's horrible percentages make the mighty even more frequent donaters. And indeed note that Ingtar isn't "as if" anything. It's exactly the case that he doesn't want to think about noble Darkfriends.

“I know little of Cairhienin,” Ingtar told him, “but I’ve heard enough of Galldrian. He would feast us and thank us for the glory we had brought to Cairhien. He would stuff our pockets with gold and heap honors on our heads. And if we tried to leave with the Horn, he’d cut our honored heads off without pausing to take a breath.”

It's mind-boggling how actively detrimental to the cause of existence most of the modern day royalty proves to be. Like obviously they need to be toppled from their thrones and all that but damn.

There was a dignity to him that Perrin did not remember; Rand was looking at the Aes Sedai and the Shienaran lord as equals.

Well he's found the Horn of Valere twice now, so he's worthy of being a legendary hero even ignoring all the stuff he hasn't done yet. Selene's flirting sadly helped.

It will also help if you remember the way you behaved before the Amyrlin. If you are that arrogant, they will believe you are a lord if you wear rags.

Lan's training paying off in a dozen ways. He'd be so proud if he were here.

“A sa’angreal.” She sounded as if it were really not very important, but Perrin suddenly had the feeling the two of them had entered a private conversation, saying things no one else could hear.

For example, she's basically telling Rand what tools are available to him.

One by itself is powerful enough, but I can think of few women strong enough to survive the flow through the one on Tremalking. The Amyrlin, of course. Moiraine, and Elaida. Perhaps one or two others. And three still in training.

I guess Verin must think Cadsuane dead, since Lelaine and Romanda would make three if she were being counted. How terrifying that at this very point the White Tower has a total of eight, kind of nine women capable of using the Choedan Kal. It should be so much more.

As for Logain, it would have taken all his strength simply to keep from being burned to a cinder, with nothing left for doing anything.

Unless the male statue is quite different and only ever meant for Lews to use, Verin is very mistaken here. Logain is only a step below Rand, and there's sixteen tiers in between him and Moiraine.

She was talking to Rand. Perrin knew it, and from the queasy look in Mat’s eye, he did, too. Even Loial shifted nervously in his chair.

Thank goodness the empath is the POV to confirm that Loial is not blind or stupid but has in fact put two and two together.

Watching Verin’s smile, small and mysterious, Perrin felt a chill. He did not think Rand knew half what he thought he did. Not half.

Perrin you don't even know half of how right you are.

But we'll get to that next time, when our company visits The Huge Toad Crouching in the Night: Lord Barthanes's Manor! (Disclaimer: Toads may be metaphorical or even simileical)

[henriiiii-1001old]

pt two to this

i am weirdly thinking of making this a series who's with me. like i already have a semi plot for this. not sure if i'm gonna make this an au or not, but we'll see

this one also ended up being a lot longer than the other one i think uuuhhh yeah :/ oops

fic/technical spoilers under the cut

(quick warning for mentions of suicide as well as general angst)

The aroma of freshly made coffee scattered around the barren Mandela County police station. Adam sat patiently at the high table near the counter for his own portion as Thatcher poured the brew into two separate mugs. The smaller one was for Thatcher, though he was scared of caffeine suddenly being able to reveal alternates’ true forms. Maybe he could consult his roommate for that.

Thatcher carefully took both mugs over to where Adam sat, placing his cup in front of him softly as to not spill the contents. The last thing he’d want is for Adam to be upset, especially in regards to the previous night. They had slept comfortably in some sleeping bags Thatcher had luckily found in the storage area. Adam had practically begged to sleep next to him, as embarrassed and humiliated he felt as he did, but Thatcher reassured him that he’d be happy to comfort him in any way. The night passed with Thatcher feeling like a new man.

“Good?” Thatcher asked, waiting for a comment of his craft.

“Yeah, definitely better than how my old friend used to make it,” Adam replied. Thatcher noticed his inflection change when he said the word “friend,” and as much as he wanted to pry - and imply - about it he knew this was not the time or place to do so.

“So, you feeling okay?”

Adam tensed before replying. “Sort of. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again, but… Yeah.”

Thatcher hummed in understanding and nodded. He took a sip of his own creation before swallowing it and sighing in relief. The only sound filling the room after that were quiet sips of coffee and anxious tapping of their mugs. Adam also tugged and rubbed furiously at the blanket he had wrapped around himself for warmth and comfort. Since he had become attached to Thatcher’s touch so quickly, the blanket was just the next best thing so he wouldn’t be too clingy.

“May I, um, ask about last night?” Thatcher worded carefully as to not upset Adam too much. “I-it’s okay if you’re not ready. I just-”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll try to explain to the best of my abilities,” Adam interrupted, trying to seem genuine since emotions had been difficult for him.

“This all kinda started a few days ago. Me and my… colleague, Jonah, were out doing something for a client. We were supposed to stay there for three whole nights, $500 a night. Can you even believe that? Like, who ever would have thought it was some elaborate trap to have you stick yourself in a basement to hear some shit that doesn’t even make sense? Even from your own mouth?”

Thatcher stared at him utterly confused. Adam had only noticed after a few moments of silence.

“Moving on from that since I’m jumping a bit too far ahead, we had a few disagreements on the place; my colleague wanted to leave but I had a sort of connection to the place somehow. I had even gone there once before with Sarah, in which after that whole thing I had to get my colleague as my new ghost hunting partner.”

“And your colleague was Jonah Marshall, was it not?”

Adam went dead silent. Thatcher got his answer from that.

“Understood. Uh, go on if you’re good with that.”

“Yeah… um, well. We kinda got into a huge fight on the second day, in which he brought up my mother and I just. Told him to leave if he really wanted to not be there. And he… did.

"I went down into that fucking basement expecting something amazing to happen. Something like my mom coming back or some shit. Nothing happened. All I got was more questions and a pissy attitude, which led me to just go searching for J- my colleague myself.”

Thatcher eagerly listened as Adam poured everything he had remembered, paying attention to every time his voice faltered and gave way to his true emotions. He even almost mentioned Jonah, which definitely confirmed Thatcher’s suspicions by that point.

“I found him by the car he stole earlier that day. Dead. I was too deep in an angry, nonhuman frenzy that I just took the car and left, not even shedding a proper tear for him.

Sarah and I had a fight about him, leading her to make me make some stupid memorial video for him. I didn’t wanna think about it, I didn’t wanna do it. I felt horrible, and her making me do that only made things worse. And I even logged off for a few hours after that because I just couldn’t handle it.

“And then he showed up.”

Thatcher perked up. Who’s “he” , he thought to himself, ever so curious as to what Adam could be alluding to.

“He… was the one who told me everything. Started rambling off about how he ‘held me in his arms’ or some dumb shit. I didn’t understand at first, but whatever he did to me made me feel so numb and lifeless. I couldn’t move. Not until he said… He…. told me…”

“Hey, you’re okay. If it’s too heavy for you, you can-”

“I’m not the real me.”

Thatcher held his tongue and listened. It was the only thing he could do as he was too far deep. He couldn’t get Adam’s now black eyes off of him, staring directly into his soul it seemed. Adam looked like he didn’t even breathe to speak his next words, staring Thatcher down like prey.

“He told me I was one of them. If Sarah hadn’t cut the bitch off I would have gotten more answers. But someone always has to stand in my way, don’t they, Lieutenant? ”

Thatcher stared into the orbs that occupied Adam’s sockets, frozen in place as panic rose within his body. He couldn’t move; no matter how much the training had taught him to fight, he could never push himself to. He could only pray that Adam didn’t do this all to kill him, that would just be absurd, right?

“Davis?”

A breath was taken that Thatcher didn’t know he needed. He blinked a few times to ground himself to his surroundings once more. He was still staring at Adam, but his eyes had returned to normal. He sighed in relief.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me…” Adam began to bury himself in his hands, curl into another ball and cry the embarrassment and shame away.

“No! No, no, no, no you’re okay, kid,” Thatcher quickly tried reassuring him, his body ready to hold Adam again at any time in case he needed a quick cooldown.

“I panicked, I… I didn’t know how to process everything, I tried killing myself in so many ways… None of them FUCKING WORKED!”

Adam’s form began to blur as his skin melted, his eyes and mouth becoming more prominent features on his face. His limbs began to elongate themselves again, and his skin even turned even paler than he already was. Thatcher dashed to the other side of the table, cradling Adam’s torso and head into his own. He softly ran his hands through the alternate’s hair, soothing him the best he could.

“Adam, please don’t be upset with yourself right now. I know you can’t control it, and I understand how painful it must be to have your whole identity stripped from you.”

“HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?! ” Adam screamed, his voice echoing throughout the station’s walls and back into the current room.

“The same night your mother died I almost lost my life to one of those things!”

Adam suddenly grew quiet, whimpers and sniffles being the only sound emitted from him as he slowly looked up at Thatcher.

“Her husband called me, asking for help… I should have known it was a trap. I lost a friend too, the only one I could trust. I left her behind to rot in that fucking house… I wouldn’t doubt she’s still there, waiting to exact her revenge on me.

"I couldn’t tell if I was a person anymore after I encountered that thing in the tunnels below Mandela. It took my face, my voice, my mannerisms, everything , and left me there to suffer. I went home that night feeling stalked, haunted, as I have been for the past 17 fucking years. If anyone on this fucking planet knows how you feel, it’s me. And I’m sorry that it has to be me…”

Neither had any words for the next few minutes, Adam shifting in and out of his human and alternate forms before settling on a mix of both. He wasn’t sure how he ended up like that, but he’d just deal with it later like he did all his problems. Thatcher suddenly carefully dropped his head onto Adam’s head, covering his face in the blonde’s curly hair.

“You knew her… ” Adam whispered, his voice wavering slightly.

“Not really. Barely got to even take her body for examination before I got chased out of that damn house.”

“Do you remember anything else from that night?”

Adam took his turn asking for Thatcher’s suffering as he had already explained his. And Thatcher reluctantly answered, lifting his head out of Adam’s hair before speaking.

“Kinda, I remember first walking into the room and seeing some creepy fucking guy on a TV on the floor before it immediately disappeared. Don’t know what that guy wanted or if he was even real at all.”

Adam’s eyes widened; he recognized the figure Thatcher was talking about. He just needed more info. “Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Not really, uuhh. Short and dark hair, permanent smile on his bastard ugly face, looked kinda creepy.”

“Did he look like some sort of weird entertainment guy?”

Thatcher paused. “…Yeah.”

Adam stared at Thatcher dead in the eyes once more but with a look more recognizable as confusion and concern than disdain. Silence filled the room once more, a common pattern between the pair at this point. Speaking so much they end up oversharing followed by a deafening silence as they process every word that was said. This time, however, neither party knew how to advance the conversation.

“Um, we’ll talk more later. Need more coffee?” Thatcher asked to break the silence, following his question with an awkward but reassuring smile.

Adam nodded and smiled back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night came as fast as it left, the day being spent through joint work on cases that Thatcher suddenly gained the energy to look into once more, joking around with each other, a few video games in which Thatcher almost always lost, and staying in each other’s general company. After a whole range of emotions displayed by the duo throughout the day, both were spent and needed a nice, long sleep to prepare for the following day.

Adam had once again wanted to sleep next to Thatcher, and Thatcher gladly obliged. He felt that Adam was becoming too dependent on him too quickly, but he didn’t want to upset him at the current moment. Thankfully, the alternate fell asleep almost instantly, being overwhelmed with exhaustion with everything he’s had to deal with the past few days - hell his entire life. Thatcher himself was preparing to shut down for the night as well, making himself comfortable next to Adam and ensuring that Adam was also comfortable in his current position facing Thatcher.

“Wait.”

A voice… An actual voice called to him. It seemed dark and raspy, almost as if it was struggling to breathe.

“What…?” Thatcher squinted his eyes in reaction to the intruder. He darted his eyes around the room somewhat quickly to try and scan the area for any potential threats.

“Follow the static, Thatcher. Or if you’d prefer, the music. We have some things to discuss.”

A recording of a music box suddenly filled Thatcher’s ears, almost hypnotizing him to follow its melody. However, Thatcher quickly grabbed a small pocket knife he always kept handy before venturing out into the darkness, a sense of déjà vu hitting him.

He followed the strange melody to where he believed the source would be: his work computer. He carefully took a seat in the almost uncomfortable office chair as he stared into a blank, static filled screen, something he had only seen on old analog TV’s. He didn’t even notice that the music had faded or that a face had appeared on the screen until it started speaking.

“A song made for the girl lost in a land of wonder and inexplicable magic and absurdity, ruby slippers holding more power than any being in that dimension. A song describing how desperately she wished for a better life no matter that her life had been mundane at worst. A song that my son liked very much,” the voice began as if it were making a speech just for Thatcher to hear. It made him shiver at the thought.

“The slippers were meant to be silver, however, though they would seem dull against the colorful atmosphere of the set. My little boy never cared, his caretakers only put it on once to distract the little one before realizing he was entirely captivated by it. Who knew he would react so much when I played it for him again years later?”

“Who are you? What do you want? Why are you talking so much?” Thatcher inquired, anger rising with each question that slipped off his tongue.

“Simple, Lieutenant. I’m Adam’s father.”

The statement boiled Thatcher’s blood for reasons even he did not understand at the moment. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and disgust as he tried to search for words. The figure interrupted him before he could try to put together a single cohesive sentence in his mind.

“I’m the one that took him away. Although, it would have been for the greater good anyway. His caretakers never truly loved him, did they?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The man especially became more absent than the woman, though it’s quite ironic that she was meant to leave this plane of existence before him. The boy’s birth was a joint effort, but one must take more blame than the other, of course. It’s only human nature to push blame onto one party rather than accept the truth of reality. Which is quite funny considering-”

“Stop fucking jumping around everywhere and get to the damn point!”

“Ssshhhhh , you don’t want to wake him up now, do you?”

Thatcher went silent, biting his lip furiously before backing down completely. He looked away, malice burning in his eyes.

“Good. I’ve simply come here to warn you about what you’re doing. We’ve kept tabs on him to make sure someone doesn’t interrupt his ascension into reaching his full potential, his assimilation to become one of us .”

Thatcher felt suffocated by the atmosphere, wanting to back away from his monitor while the static kept him snugly in place, urging him to reach closer to it instead. He couldn’t move, and his breath felt hindered when nothing was stopping its regular flow.

“You… you’re the one who told him…” Thatcher choked out, his words careful and choppy.

“Indeed. Perhaps you remember me? It’s been a long while since I have seen your face, Mr. Davis.”

“Stop switching up how you call me, please just stick to one. And yes, I most likely do.”

“Would this give you a reminder, Thatcher?” the figure’s face warped spontaneously, and his voice changed alongside it. It sounded more cheery, more charismatic. It made Thatcher sick to his stomach when he fully realized he truly had been talking to who he thought he was.

“Yes… it does,” Thatcher practically breathed out. “And I hate it.”

“Good! I was worried it wouldn’t. Then something would reeaaally be wrong with you! However,” its face and voice returned to its previous state, “my warning still stands. We do not need people like you ruining his only chance to join us once again. To become a family.”

Thatcher slammed his palms against his work desk, standing up as he fumed with anger. “You are NOT his family! You things don’t care about people!”

“But he isn’t a person. Why would you care for something as dangerous to your kind as he is?”

“He’s not dangerous; he’s confused, he’s scared, he’s hurt. You hurt him, and he clearly hasn’t accepted the thought of being lied to his entire life, suddenly having his identity stripped away from him sending him into a spiral down through the deepest parts of Hell! I care because that’s human nature, you heartless fuck!”

The screen glitched for a mere moment, revealing the face had disappeared. The static still remained, however, sending Thatcher into a slight panic.

A hand had swiped him from behind, bringing him close to an itchy textured body. The hand’s texture alone threatened to slice Thatcher’s throat at any minute, almost puncturing his skin.

“I told you to be quiet, did I not? If you truly do not wish to hurt him, I suggest you shut your mouth before I make you, ” the figure threatened, squeezing the blood flow traveling to Thatcher’s head to make him feel faint very quickly. Thatcher nodded his head frantically.

“If I killed you right here, would it be too similar to your beloved 'guardian angel’s’ death?” it chuckled, the thought amusing it while only confusing Thatcher.

“How do you…”

“I watched the entire encounter. She died right in front of you, you know. The thing that followed you home hid the blood on his hands for 17 whole years. The blood of your angel coughing up the last bit of her life, his hands squeezing so tight her head almost popped out of place, her voice begging for mercy as she watched her murderer transform into you, making her believe you had betrayed her, all of which happened right before your very eyes.”

Thatcher squirmed, he couldn’t take any more of this thing’s rambling. What was worse was that the grip on his neck only became tighter. He began to try and slam his hands into the figure holding him hostage, pleading for it to release him.

“My final point is that if you mess with his head any more than you have, I’ll find a way to work around your necessity to Him and kill you myself.”

Thatcher was released, being pulled down into his seat to let him recover. The chair moved slightly away from the monitor due to the force, and Thatcher’s head was practically spinning without even spinning the chair. He took several deep breaths before the assailant spoke once more, now in front of him and out of the monitor.

“Or maybe you’d consider a compromise?”

Thatcher darted his eyes to the alternate, still slightly in a daze. “What…? Compromise?”

“I won’t have to kill you if you give him up. We’ll go our separate ways, and if He needs you to be in Adam’s presence again then you’ll know. Or maybe…”

The figure began stepping closer to its current victim, careful in not approaching him too quickly for its own liking. Thatcher followed its eyes as the distance between them shortened and shortened. Once it felt it was close enough, it leaned down to Thatcher’s face, revealing itself in full disgusting glory.

“We could raise him together?”

Thatcher’s heart sank. The skin moved in an unsettling manner, making Thatcher’s own skin crawl. The eyes were mismatched completely, one seeming to have popped out of its socket while the other would have been considered more of a lazy eye if Thatcher didn’t feel like he was being stared down by a predator. Its mouth was probably the most disturbing part, moving slightly slower than how it was speaking and sometimes dragging out certain sounds. The words came out so clean from its mouth, and yet it was like its mouth couldn’t keep up. Kind of like Adam when he screamed in agony…

Every part of him was screaming at him to run, to get Adam and take him far away from this county, from this state, from this whole damn country if he had to. But the fear - and the static - kept him in place to his dismay. He was trapped, required at that point to entertain the monster’s ideas.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice almost inaudible to how much he was shaking. He cursed internally at himself for that.

“You wouldn’t have to worry about death. You could be able to protect him while also helping him achieve his purpose. You could still be there for him. I could see the hope in your eyes every time he smiled. That’s how I was when I first held him in my arms.”

“But… I don’t understand. What would you want from me?”

“You could become one of us.”

Just from that sentiment, Thatcher realized what it meant: they’d replace him with the demon that followed him home. This thing expected him to be that stupid, huh? Was this also part of the other voice’s test? A test of resilience and intelligence? Part of him didn’t want to know, but he did know his answer to the question he was asked.

“No. To Hell with that,” he asserted, his voice deep and quiet as to heed the alternate’s previous warning. “I know what games you’re playing, and I’m not stupid if that’s what you think of me. You’re gonna have to think twice if you think you can deceive me .”

In that instant, the intruder retreated to the monitor, a look of disappointment trying to settle on its face.

“We’ll see when He puts his plan into play. I shall see you soon. Oh, and tell Adam his dear father, Stanley, says hello. Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

And with that, it was gone. The monitor shut off, the static was gone, and Thatcher was alone. He suddenly became so fatigued from having to rely on the static’s influence to keep him awake now that it disappeared. He slumped into his office chair and fell into a deep slumber, hoping that the voice from before didn’t interrupt his sleep once more.

[darklordofthesimp]

I’m the anon for the vacation ask, get in losers we’re going to the Bahamas

Listen, it’s time for everybody to get some therapy, especially my girl Bridy 😔✋

Bear with me, I’m not the best with words. I’m just slapping my thought one this interaction but I do like writing so any criticism is welcome <3 just don’t be mean about it cause I will cry

This is all before she says fuck it and decided to transfer, before she realizes that she will never be the same Birdy again, when she wants everything to go back to how things were before and all that jazz ✨

Ngl I think Birdy would want to go to therapy. I imagine she still tries to listen to that small logical side of her brain that is trying to hard to get her attention but is overshadowed by the trauma thats deeply rooted into it.

Plus side is that is limits her time to be anywhere near Köing (don’t worry, we may get to him later on)

But of course, that’s not how therapy works exactly

And that bitch is screaming at her to go to fucking therapy, get this shit fixed so she can go back to her old self.

The first session is going smoothly, after introductions it what pretty easy taking to them

The therapist, after seeing Birdy a bit reluctant, decided to share a bit about themselves.

Birdy learns that they have a wife and two children. After giving Birdy a picture of the family to look at, they ask Birdy about hers. (Idk Birdy’s family situation so we’re going to assume their dead for ✨plot✨)

“Do you ever want a family of your own?”

A snark escapes from Birdys mouth. In her line of work, she’d be luck to make it to her golden years (her luck is shit anyways)

I mean, yeah she thought of it. Dreamed of it in fact, but it’s a dream.

The therapist sees Birdy space out, so they decided to lead the conversation back to childhood memories.

(Again, idk Bridys backstory, if there’s one someone direct to to the right direction and I’ll revision this 👌)

Birdy told the therapist about her father serving in the military and he would be constantly deployed, so when she was back, she and her other three siblings would constantly fight over his attention. Being second to last, you would think that she would hardly be noticed

But her most fond memories at the times that she and her father would frequently go to the lake for fishing. And, maybe it because two of her siblings didn’t even know how to to swim properly, or that she was just a bit stronger then her brother and was able to pull bigger fishes then her and got all pissy about it so stop coming to the fishing trips altogether.

But that was basically her daddy-daughter time with him, it was really, really special to her

With happy memories of her father in her mind, she was going to continue with more stories when the therapist watched dinged, didn’t it dinged a bit ago

“That was really good, I’m happy we got really far in the first session”

What?

“I’m glad to hear good memories with your family.”

Huh?

“Maybe next time we can go over your relationships with your-“

“That’s it?”

“Yes, unfortunately we need to stop it right here for today. We actually went about an half hour over…..”

That’s it? You have to wait another week to talk to them again, to get this shit fixed? To get yourself fixed

It can’t be, you spend more time with the monster more then with this therapist.

Fuck- you spent precious time talking about dead people then what’s actually going on, you made absolutely zero progress-

You felt a something come to up you shoulder, and thanks to you military training coughtraumacoughalmostdyingcough you quickly grabbed their wrist in a attempt to subdue them. Thankful your sense comes back before you put them in a headlock.

But you don’t let go

“No no, it can’t be over. We didn’t even do ANYTHING?!”

The therapist, who now looked at you calmly for someone who’s wrist will surely bruise for how tight the hold is said “Well thats how introduction sessions go. And I don’t want to overwhelm you with-“

“I’m ALREADY overwhelmed. I’m trying to get my life together, trying to get my SHIT together before they send me off to god-knows-where psych ward and replace me with that sonofabitch”

“Replace you?”

“YES, that why I need you to fix me, goddamn it-“

“______, I can’t fix you”

And that’s all folks <3 it’s currently 1 in the morning for me and I don’t want to talk myself out of sending this nor proof-reading this. So cliffhanger it is

Oh and I frequently chew on paper cause I like the way it feels chewing on it in the back of my teeth but hate spitting it out so I just swallow it, since we’re sharing with the class

OH MY GOOOOOOOD THIS IS AMAZING! THIS IS SO GOOD I CAN 102902202 PERCENT SEE BIRDY FLIPPING THE FUCK OUT DURING THERAPY LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS FIX ME MOTHERFUCKER

AND THE THERAPIST IS LIKE 2 SECONDS AWAY FROM PUTTING HER INTO A PSYCH WARD

Also

STOP EATING RANDOM SHIT

[phantom-vex]

an open letter to the discord equivalent of a seagull shit

@alasse-earfalas​

first of all: 

I mean, gang. Seriously. I was not that subtle. 

So hi, a reintroduction for you all. Hi there, I'm Vex! I'm an anarchist aroace trans man who's taken part in multiple protests for trans rights around the UK. I've been on HRT coming up on two years.

I am living proof that what you spread is utter bullshit. I had been living as a man for 3 years before I was able to qualify for HRT with private healthcare. I got referred to the UK's *only* youth trans clinic in 2018, and I am yet to speak to anybody. Not a doctor, not a nurse, not an absolute soul. They are NOT handing out hormones to kids, and performing surgeries. They, at least in the UK, are actively taking those rights away, delaying the process for years upon years. If you get referred to the Tavistock NOW, in 2023, it is an estimated TWENTY FIVE years.

I had to bend over backwards to get my gender changed, sending them years of bank statements, alongside a doctors note, and any and all ID I had on me at the time - I was without this crucial ID for about 6 months. I frequently suffer HRT shortage delays as a result of stock issues, or sites not wanting to deal with transgender people. I had to try 4 different pharmacies before one would take my perscription.

Being trans is not fucking easy. There's no trans agenda - if there is, where the fuck is it other than your own pitiful, sad imaginations. This server is PATHETIC, by the way. I cannot imagine being so pissed about some gay teen's headcanons that I make an entire server about it. "Queering these characters into oblivion" my fucking arse, they don't HAVE any canon sexualities! Mr Nintendo has never come out and said "Link is a confirmed heterosexual". These headcanons genuinely do nothing to you, and they're not being forced down your throat - you're just homophobic.

And that's the crux of the issue here, isn't it. You talk a big game about welcoming queer people into your server, but you actively platform people like Flowers, or credit known homophobes like Matt Walsh and Jordan Peterson. That's not acceptance. There's no "civil" discussion either - there's only discussion you agree with, even when people are legitimately trying to engage with you in good faith arguments. Which, transparently, was what I was doing. I had hope, for a bit, that I might be able to change your minds. But I can't pretend like you were actually listening. 

Like this server wasn't just a hateful front for grown adults getting pissy about headcanons.

You’re not oppressed. Until your love is illegal for hundreds of years, until you’re wiped out by a virus the government won’t do anything about, until you’re denied healthcare for 25 years, until you’re allowed to be legally discriminated against, until books about people like you are taken out of libraries, until you are killed for just being yourself - you are not oppressed. Grow the fuck up, and stop whinging about fictional elves. 

[amyisherenowitsokay]

*stares very aggressively , I’m foaming from the mouth.*

Howdy-hey! I’m here to pester you abt your works! So I reread “From your memory” and I was like wowza and then I wondered…

What was your inspiration? That concept was just entirely new to me and in the good old year of 2011 I was practically ascending bc I was so invested in the story and it was actually the first fic I ever read from you. (and I fell in love teehee) So what made you write that or inspired yo to do so? Did you have an original storyline that was scrapped, and or changed ?

You don’t have to answer any of this if you don’t want to btw :)

I answer all my asks (eventually lmao) fish! Especially yours!

Long answer under the cut because I'm incapable of giving a short answer. Information about my own fics are constantly on the tip of my tongue ready to be spilled out at their first opportunity, and I'm incapable of resisting.

From Your Memory was actually genuinely inspired by the song mention in the A/N of the first chapter, which is Paramore's Ignorance. This is also where the title comes from.

"I'm not the same kid from your memory Well now I can fend for myself"

I listened to the original and acoustic version on loop. Basically what happened in teenage me's brain did was have an animatic in my head about how this song could figuratively apply to a fanfiction, developed the premise, and went from there.

This is gonna be really funny to explain because there's like legitimate scenes developed around individual lyrics in this song.

Ignorance sounds and sounded a lot to me like a dialogue. It sounded, to me, like one person was saying some parts, and one person was replying in a sort of escalating argument, but at least one party was 'ignorant' (huehuehuehue) of all the details about why they were even fighting in the first place. Based on that premise, the song will (hopefully) make more sense. I'm going to write the lyrics 'assigning' lyrics between two people, and tag them (1) or (2), depending on who I am is talking/replying, with 1 being Zim, and 2 being Gaz. I vividly imagined two people interrupting one another while fighting, hence a lot of the weird breaks.

This is gonna be so convoluted and I'm sorry ahead of time lmao.

Lyric Breakdown

(1) If I'm a bad person— (2) You don't like me (1) Well, I guess I'll make my own way (1) It's a circle, a mean cycle (1) I can't excite you anymore

Just on that dialogue, it's basically like. Zim starts off the story blaming himself for not being there when Gaz was injured, and wars between doing the easiest thing for Gaz, which is to shut up and pretend not to know her, or what he wants, which is to tell her the truth and re-involve himself in her life. Gaz is meanwhile obviously oblivious to his turmoil and is like "why are you even talking to me, you hate me." Zim of course originally chooses to aid her from the sidelines, but he's not happy about it. He essentially is "not allowed" to involve himself in her life anymore.

(1) Where's your gavel? Your jury? (2) What's my offense this time? (1) You're not a judge, but if you're gonna judge me (1) Well, sentence me to another life

Zim's resentment about the situation continues, especially with Dib being irritated about Zim choosing to keep secrets and forcing him to go along with it. Gaz is still like "dude what the fuck is your problem??" while Zim continues to be extra pissy, wishing things were different.

(1) Don't wanna hear your sad songs (1) I don't wanna feel your pain (1) When you swear it's all my fault (1) 'Cause you know we're not the same (no) (2) We're not the same (no) (2) Oh, we're not the same (1) Yeah, the friends who stuck together (1) We wrote our names in blood (1) But I guess you can't accept that the change is good (hey) (2) It's good (hey), it's good

At this point, Zim's dealing with being incapable of helping, desperately wanting to help Gaz, but not actually able to do so. He's just constantly watching her suffer without ever being able to help ease her pain.

Mentally, this was also just more arguing, but with Zim being forced to swallow the fact the meaningful friendship and borderline-relationship he and Gaz had developed is gone, and she's not interested in developing a new one the way he is. Things are different now. They simply aren't friends. He's done nothing for weeks but try to save her life, has had her literal blood on his hands, and now it doesn't even matter. He's got to move on, and he's got to continue to convince Dib that their situation has changed, and his idea is for the better. Lacking context, Gaz meanwhile is like dude take your angst and fuck off. She's also trying to convince herself that whatever is clearly happening behind the scenes, it doesn't matter, and she's better off keeping her head down.

(1) Well, you treat me just like another stranger (1) Well, it's nice to meet you, sir (1) I guess I'll go (1) I'd best be on my way out (2) You treat me just like another stranger (2) Well, it's nice to meet you, sir (2) I guess I'll go (2) I'd best be on my way out

(1) Ignorance is your new best friend (x2)

This is also another parallel back and forth, with Zim still coming to terms with Gaz genuinely not knowing their formerly intense, meaningful relationship. It's more resentment about what he lost. It's meant really sarcastically and snidely. Gaz, for her part, means it really literally. She doesn't have any relationship with Zim aside from 'that guy my brother hates,' and blows him off.

And of course, "ignorance is your new best friend" is pretty straightforward in its meaning. Gaz isn't Zim's best friend anymore, and all she has to keep her company is her new amnesia.

For this next part, queue Membrane (3). The really fun part is after this analysis, if you wanna go back and listen to this song nearly entirely from a Gaz vs Membrane perspective, it also can fit! From a Membrane-centric perspective, if you think of Membrane as he sees himself (aka not in the wrong), needing praise from the public, shrugging off criticism since it's "for the greater good," etc with Gaz (and Dib) shoving back at his preconceptions, it's easy to hear the dialogue. But continuing on, this part was mentally Membrane for me:

(3) This is the best thing that could have happened (3) Any longer and I wouldn't have made it (3) It's not a war, no, it's not a rapture (2) I'm just a person, but you can't take it (2) The same tricks that, that once fooled me (2) They won't get you anywhere (2) I'm not the same kid from your memory (2) Well, now I can fend for myself

This was more later in the story and/or right before Gaz lost her memory during her confrontation with Membrane, where Gaz knows what's going on, and Membrane's trying to convince her to cooperate anyways. Membrane is convinced this isn't something that needs to be difficult, while Gaz is warning him that she's dangerous now, has backup, and isn't going just hand over her independence at his whim.

Further Development

From that context, you can see that the story just kind of happened from there. I filled in the gaps. Why was Zim so mad at Gaz, and why wouldn't she know why he was mad at her? Originally, I wasn't sure who the (3)rd person in the lyrics was that Gaz was fighting with, but to me, it sounded like an authority figure. There's not a lot of those in the IZ universe, let alone one that Gaz would legitimately be threatened by, and eventually, it started to sound like an argument with someone gloating, and then someone who didn't even notice their gloating was actually cruel. They'd also have to be someone who Gaz knew since she was little. Someone she was invested in. Someone exactly like Professor Membrane. But then what would Gaz be arguing with dumb, well-meaning Professor Membrane about?

And thus, a metamorphosis occurred:

This is a meme I made awhile ago for my Discord friends when we discussing From Your Memory. It also makes me laugh every time I see it because it's really spot on to the vibes.

I started to consider the angle that Membrane was actually the bad guy, which, when you consider how many times 'evil mad scientist who think they're in the right' was fed to kids as a trope (and still is, tbh), it was an easy jump. And THAT was when the story really started kicking in.

This was around the time I started to hear the 'Dib is a clone' theories. If Dib was a clone, why couldn't Gaz be? If you were a scientist whose entire life was dedicated to advancement for the betterment of mankind, why would that just be relegated to advancement in technology? Why wouldn't someone just a liiiiiiittle off find themselves stumbling right into advancing the evolution of mankind as a species, too?

So then Gaz and Dib became experiments. And if you were going to make a boy and a girl, you could argue it'd just be the typical white picket fence dream of having a son and a daughter. But if you're me, and grew up in a religious environment, the creation of a man and woman as a pair sound less like siblings and more like Adam and Eve. And that's where the whole 'Gaz is an angel with wings' things came from.

The origin of evil!Professor Membrane was mostly that I thought that no one would ever see that twist coming, but reading back through it, I can definitely see small-me taking digs at my own super-scientist parent lmao.

Evil Membrane is also so incredibly fun just in and of itself. Professor Membrane is the guy above all guys in Invader Zim. He's respected, well-loved, commanding, imperial in so many ways.

I simultaneously started formulating this idea that Gaz had amnesia to keep her from being too OP and dunking on everyone. So the story pretty much fell into place after that. Obviously, the amnesia had to be caused by Membrane, to reset his 'experiment.' Dib and Gaz, as his own form of Adam and Eve, were abominations. Abominations tend to be malformed in some way, meaning they were imperfect creations. Dib was first, and therefore more of a prototype. It'd explain why he lacked Gaz's powers, why she tended to be smarter, stronger, etc in the show.

I also deeply loved the idea of Zim being in love with Gaz, while Gaz is completely indifferent in a way that was atypical than usual ZAGR stories (including MHNY). Zim wasn't fantasizing for a relationship that could be, but pining for a relationship that had been. It made their will-they-won't-they dynamic painful instead of lovey-dovey-ooey-gooey-sentimental, and ya bitch is always down to mix a good dollop of pain into my stories lmao.

Changes Down the Line

This one I'm gonna preface with to anyone reading this: don't go digging through my reviews. I'm too old and my bones are too tired to stir up shit, or incite drama.

I lost focus/desire to finish this story somewhere around I think when Gaz got kidnapped the first time (ch 19ish). I had a whole (now lost to time/deleted) chapter of her being in a warehouse, losing her shit, and breaking free via her powers.

ORIGINALLY, in a world where that version of the story happened instead of what's published, this was going to lead to Gaz being an actual, active threat to humanity incapable of controlling her powers. There was going to be a scene where Dib has to really debate on killing his own sister, or let her destroy the world in a fit of grief. Zim and Dib turned against one another because of it, with Zim fully willing to let her destroy as much of the Earth as he needs to as long as she stays alive.

It was undecided whether or not I was going to make Gaz kill Membrane, or just get really close. Most of the end of From Your Memory was me winging it and losing steam, so I was going back and forth on it.

However, I did know Dib would eventually manage to get close enough for the 'moment of truth,' so to speak, but find himself unable to actually kill his little sister. That moment of humanity would snap her back to cognizance. She'd realize just how much both Zim and Dib care for her in their individual ways, and sort of collapse. They'd eventually disappear, and the rest of story would play out pretty similarly to the published ending (assuming Membrane didn't die).

This all was scrapped legitimately because of one singular review.

Someone, and I genuinely do not remember who but I vaguely remember getting into it in my A/N's with them a few times, wrote this really rude review about how predictable the story was getting, and wrote out basically that it was obvious that Gaz was about to have a power freakout, how played out that was, blah blah blah. In 2011/2012 however, I was like 15, so instead of rolling my eyes and/or patting myself on the back for leaving enough narrative hints that the entirety of my story could be devised from what was already published, I got really mad lmao.

So in an effort to not be 'predictable' and prove that person 'wrong,' I deleted the entire chapter and rewrote it to what's now ch 20. That whole storyline was gone just cause one review really rubbed me the wrong way on the right day lmao. I think there's even an A/N even at the end of 20 that mentions offhand the scrapped rewrite.

As a reminder, this fic was finished over 10 years ago. I am not interested and would in fact be really irritated by anyone digging up the review to go harass someone who probably isn't even active on fanfiction anymore (I mean god, is anyone? Lmao). But that is what happened, and it is relevant to the question, so there.

Additionally, I was debating on writing out a few prequel chapters and inserting them somewhere in the story. Maybe 1 - 3(?) chapters written out, with a beginning, middle, and end of how Zim and Gaz's relationship developed. Like a lot of small, detailed flashbacks of when Zim first started treating Gaz, some middle bits when they stared falling for one another and really began to allow themselves to lean on one another, and then the final kiss scene, just before Gaz lost her memories.

I don't know quite remember where I intended to put that. I had vague ideas of Gaz being knocked out, those 1 - 3 chapters of flashback, and then her 'waking up' right after she slips into a coma, back in the present. These chapters were never written, partially because I couldn't figure out where to put them, and then by the time I got to scenes that could work for that kind of transition, I was really burning out with the story and just wanted to be done with it.

.

I think that's everything! Hopefully somewhere in this mess was a cohesive answer that answered your question! If I missed anything specific you were looking for, please let me know, and I'll be happy to answer! <3

[cyarskj52]

Drake Is An Awful Person To Date (And If You Act Like Him, So Are You)

Drake is emotionally and lyrically stunted, and it's time to grow up.

"Thots & Thoughts"is a column in which musings on dating, sex, race, religion, and politics all come together—from a bird's-eye view.

In terms of artistic license, Drake has every right to continue making music about emotional immaturity. He has every right to a whiny outlook on his failed relationships (fictional and otherwise). Likewise, his most ardent fans have every right to keep quoting his songs on social media and pretending that Aubrey Graham is more emotionally intelligent than he actually is. But wouldn't it be nice if we could all grow up a little?

I am not a Drake hater. Of course, I do question how a Canadian developed a Houston accent as an adult. I also question how said Canadian became West Indian on his latest album. But petty concerns like that haven’t convinced me that he isn’t good at what he does. (I have the receipts of monetary support to prove it.) Still, time has made me wonder how anyone that close to 30 can continue thinking the way he does.

How many more songs can this man make about how he had a “good girl,” went off to do his own thing (and fuck other people freely), and found himself steaming like a hot toddy because that “good girl” lost interest? Even worse, this motherfucker has the audacity to feel a way about someone getting over him. What kind of middle school man-child tripping-over-his-hormones shit is he on? Excuse me, still on.

via GIPHY

Gather ‘round, beloveds. I have many examples:

“All of my ‘let’s just be friends’ are friends I don’t have anymore/Guess that’s why they say you need family for”

Listen, when you do not meet people under platonic circumstances, do not expect them to want to be your platonic friend. I have told many a man to get the hell away from me talking about “let’s just be friends.” Bitch, I got friends. Move around.

“I tried with you/There’s more to life than sleeping in and getting high with you/I had to let go of us to show myself what I could do”

Okay, great. So when they move on, don’t get all pissy about it, newly beardless wonder (more wonderful with a beard, though, tbh).

“Why do I settle for women that force me to pick up the pieces?/Why do I want an independent woman to feel like she needs me?”

Because you’re emotionally manipulative.

“I gave your nickname to someone else.”

You’re also a mean-spirited child at times.

“Chasing women a distraction/They want to be on TV next to me/You cannot be here next to me/Don’t you see Riri here next to me?”

God, shut up.

“I’m way too good to you... You take my love for granted/I just don’t understand it.”

Yo, this man routinely raps about screwing over women, virtually driving them away. Wait, I have another example.

“You hit me like, ‘I know you’re there with someone else’/That pussy knows me better than I know myself”

See that?

Get the hell on somewhere yapping about being too good for anyone. Okay, you are handsome, famous, and rich. There are a bunch of folks like that on Unsung and old episodes of Behind the Music, though. Don’t get too cocky.

And we cannot forget “Hotline Bling,” which is great as a song to bop to in the club, in the car, at the gym, on a sidewalk, or wherever else it’s playing. But as a statement, the song is a prime example that 2016 is the year of our Lemonade.

via GIPHY

Whoever told Drake he was more immature than Marques Houston deserves a medal of honor.

I don’t expect a whole lot from him. I know some would like him to be more socially conscious in his work, but I’m not sure he’s capable of that—and if he isn’t, I’d rather he make silent donations to those who are. What I do want from Drake, though, is for him to work on the sexism in his music. More specifically, I’d love for him to be a wee bit less of a self-involved jackass who routinely bitches about chasing women away and then being bitter when they move on with their lives.

That’s what folks are supposed to do, especially when they date people like Drake. His new album is disappointing for many reasons, but I’m most disappointed that, lyrically, he’s doing the same boring shuffle without a morsel of self-awareness.

I guess that doesn’t really matter, since his music is selling exceptionally well. But for those of us with higher expectations for Drake, it’s about time he grew up already. Maybe then he’d escape the pattern of pushing “those girls” away, who move on to become much happier women.

And if you act anything like Drake, you should join in walking into actual adulthood. Ashe, assholes.

Related

Sent from my iPhone

[punkscowardschampions]

GC, Ronali & Cali

Ali: Who’s gonna fill me in on what I’ve been missing out on/did any of yous care I might’ve been 💀

Ali: Carls not included, of course 😘

Ronan: ‘Course we did

Ronan: not much you’ve missed is all

Carly: told u 🥱😴💀👻

Ali: Boo 👎

Ali: is it not the season, like

Ronan: Barely, like

Ronan: cut us some slack

Carly: no we shan’t

Ali: oh mein gott

Ali: it’s actually THE most festive night of the season, you’ve just reminded me Ro

Ronan: What? You’ve lost me

Bartley: Is she speaking German

Ali: Barely, like

Ali: you don’t know about Krampusnacht?

Ronan: Are you on about [insert some crap krampus horror film you think she’s talking about cos they exist]

Ali: Yeah but it’s not just a film, boy

Ali: it’s folklore, so tonight 🎅 & 👹 come, if you’ve been good, you’ll have a present from 🎅 if you’ve been bad, 👹 will get ya

Ali: [tell them about the Krampus run vibe and how it’s an excuse to get pissed and scare people, in a nutshell lol] so…

Ronan: Ah, now I get it

Ali: Did you keep your costume, you’ve got a headstart if you did

Bartley: Once again mine is useless

Carly: my ma’s for sure a whip yous can borrow 🎅👹😈❤️

Ali: See, resourceful

Ali: sure [Halloween pop-up girl] sold you a lasso

Moses: Sharing is caring

Carly: tis the season 🎁🎁

Bartley: I thought you had a boyfriend, Ali

Ali: What’s that got to do with anything?

Moses: Where’s your sense of fun, Bart

Ronan: He only means what’ll he, if not your parents, say about partying for a made up holiday

Carly: made up when yous dont wanna party

Carly: any excuse when yous do

Ali: Honestly, like

Ali: if no one is bothered, I’ll take the party elsewhere, no big

Carly: it’ll be fun eejits 🎅🎁👹🔔⛓🌜😈🐐

Moses: Ignore them, it’s a party, ‘course, where else would you want to be, really

Ronan: It weren’t a no

Ali: the enthusiasm I love to see

Carly: what a day when im w mosey boy

Carly: never thought I’d see it again

Bartley: didn’t you say that last time

Carly: have u something to say yourself boy?

Bartley: I just said it

Moses: 🤣 fuck’s sake, calm down children

Ronan: I am calm

Ronan: confused as to what’s going on or not now though

Bartley: that’s new

Ronan: Who got you out of bed on the wrong side?

Ali: let’s not, a fake holiday is not worth the aggro

Bartley: Fine by me

Moses: Jesus, you really are in a pissy mood, boy

Johnny: Leave him be, taking the piss’ll make it no better

Moses: A party’d sort you out

Moses: all work no play, as they say

Johnny: Enough, least he pulls his weight on jobs

Johnny: you want to worry yourself less about parties little girls throw

Moses: I don’t pull my weight? How come I got picked for [a job, idk, but you know the vibes lol] and you didn’t?

Johnny: How come you reckon you’re to air our business here when it’s no place? Sort yourself out and find me where you’ve the knowing I’ll be if you’ve something more to say when there’s no girls listening

Moses: I’m not trying to talk to you

Moses: and no one else is trying to talk about work but you

Johnny: What you’re trying to do is lead my brother astray how you did your own

Ronan: Come on, don’t let’s fight

Bartley: Yeah, stop it

Ronan: Ali, if the party goes ahead and I’m still invited, count me in

Ali: not going to be accused of not being able to read a room that much, like

Ali: but I’ll be sure to catch you soon

Ronan: [private @ Ali]

Ronan: What was all that? Do you have a clue?

Ali: Maybe I really did bring demonic vibes to the chat because no, not really

Ronan: I had myself crossed you coming back would be a different vibe, yeah

Ali: Sorry

Ali: if it’s consolation at all, that’s mutual

Ronan: Some

Ali: you’ve forgotten how boring school is, that’s the problem

Ali: lost so many IQ points forcing myself in that place every day

Ronan: Every day? I don’t believe it

Ali: Alright, alright but Carly really did need me that day

Ali: compared to my usual, gold stars all ‘round, like

Ronan: What’s wrong with Carls

Ronan: she seemed grand then, unlike the rest

Ali: Girl problems

Ali: I thought all that might be family troubles, hence I kept myself tactfully quiet

Ronan: No one’s told me of troubles but I’d be last to hear

Ali: ah, look, I’m probably way off and it’s just me coming around again pissing them off

Ali: long as you’re more pleased to hear off me than you gave out at first?

Ronan: I didn’t mean nothing by calling it a made up holiday

Ronan: I’ve missed hearing off you

Ali: I know you didn’t, we’re all good

Ali: it’s been so weird, not coming ‘round here

Ronan: Been as bad not having you

Ronan: as you can see

Ali: Be why I was trying to bring you the party

Ali: but it’ll wait

Ronan: It shouldn’t

Ronan: Moses had his point, who can be in a mood and have a face on in the middle of a party

Ali: He would think so

Ali: I don’t want to piss off Bartley and Johnny though

Ronan: The one’s that way through no fault of yours and the other’ll cheer up for it, trust us

Ali: Should you try talking to Bart or is that the worst idea ever

Ali: worse than switches and forked tongues, even

Ronan: I’ll give it a lash

Ali: You might wake up to a present yet, boy

Ronan: What’ll it be?

Ronan: and don’t say a surprise

Ali: 🍊🪙is probably traditional

Ali: you’d rather coal, I bet, or a surprise 

Ronan: You can decide on what you reckon my saving the party is worth, was your good idea in the 1st place

Ali: You really want to?

Ronan: Yeah

Ali: and obviously I’m gonna bring way better presents, you knew that right

Ronan: Might’ve crossed my mind

Ali: ‘tis the season 🎀

Ronan: Have you watched [more bad krampus films]

Ali: [tell him the ones you have from that list but some you have not]

Ali: I could definitely make a better one tonight though 📹😱🩸

Ronan: Find me whenever you’re after being filmed, I’ll do it for you

Ali: Okay Mr. Director

Ali: it’s a shame how well your name lends itself to a Roman Polanski ref because it’s not a compliment 

Ronan: Am I best not to look up who he is?

Ali: In your defence, you’re allowed to date teenage girls

Ronan: Right, he’s that sort

Ronan: someone should’ve filmed him strung up by the balls

Ali: There’s still time, along with the rest still working

Ronan: Gonna need to give us a minute

Ali: 📜🔪⏱

Ali: you can have the night off, as you’re coming to my party

Ronan: You’re having it then

Ali: things can’t be made worse by it, can they

Ronan: Nah, I don’t reckon so

Ali: Blame you entirely if it’s not so then, yeah?

Ronan: Yeah

Ali: 💛 you wanna be on the nice list so bad

Ronan: I’d be a dope to wanna be on the other tonight

Ali: 👹 not a fan?

Ronan: Be a list who’d volunteer if I was after being beaten up without 👹 busying himself

Ali: Never

Ronan: Join us in the nice corner, like

Ali: I don’t know if that’s a possibility 

Ali: but I have banked a whole fortnight so we’ll see

Ronan: You’ve a start made

Ali: 😇 make heaven yet

Ronan: Gates are staying closed a long time with all the living you’re yet to do, getting ahead of yourself there, girl

Ali: no 💀 wish

Ali: just

Ronan: Just?

Ali: Sorry, that was ominous

Ali: nothing important

Ronan: Or nothing you want tell me

Ali: I’ve just missed you all

Ronan: Least you never forgot all of us

Ali: am I 👩‍🦳, boy?

Ronan: Taken like you are now

Ali: Hardly

Ronan: What’s hardly to mean

Ali: I’m not 🤰💍🤱

Ronan: I wasn’t saying that, going there

Ronan: you who called him your boyfriend, don’t it matter?

Ali: It matters how?

Ronan: To you and to how you act

Ali: I can still party

Ronan: Well, I’ll talk to my moody cousin and get the party brought

Ali: I can

Ronan: I don’t know his mood’d be improved but go for it

Ali: Dunno about that either but least I can do

Ronan: You’ve done nothing to upset him far as I can tell

Ali: Everyone just gets lairy in group chats, sure it’s nothing more

Ronan: Maybe he’s been working too hard, everyone heard that said

Ali: Oh, I thought you meant Bartley

Ronan: I do, who else would I?

Ali: like you’ve not so many cousins, cut me some slack

Ronan: Could always be more

Ronan: [and tell her about some other peeps you know who have loads more than you]

Ali: Crazy I could have that many

Ali: but my parents families aren’t exactly around, they don’t feel real even if they exist

Ronan: We’re all of us within shouting range here, I can’t think what you having family you don’t see must be like

Ali: I feel sorry for my daddy, he never wanted to leave his brothers and sisters

Ali: just how it is though, for me, always has been

Ronan: ‘Til we arrange our roadtrip for you to go and stay 

Ali: 😁 ‘til then

Ali: awkward if they all suck

Ronan: Bad craic and odds if it’s all of ‘em, yeah

Ronan: yours are both good enough to make the amends for it though, I reckon, and pick up any slack

Ali: when’d you get so good at pep talks, damn

Ronan: I dunno that I am really

Ali: I’d not lie to you

Ronan: I’ve alright odds for getting the party back on track then

Ronan: just give him his own

Ali: Godspeed, Ro

Ronan: Be grand

Ronan: have yourself ready for your fake holiday when wes show up later on

Ali: do you even know me

Ronan: I’ve some knowing of you, sure

Ali: then you know dressing up is half the fun

Ronan: Were on halloween

Ali: see

Ali: your costume was sick

Ronan: We might’ve left a 👿 mask over somewhere, see if I can’t wow you again

Ronan: [speaking of trying to impress her talk about what you currently have in your fireworks stash and what you could feasibly get in the short notice of this impromptu affair]

Ali: my kid brother is not invited this time so 🤩🤩🤩

Ronan: Between us we’ll give him something to watch from his window so’s he’s not left out

Ali: you’re adorable

Ronan: I know the aggro when they are, ‘course I’d spare you

Ali: can blame himself for his previous making it a no-go

Ali: learn him a lesson

Ronan: Would’ve had you down as a more fun sister

Ali: Wow, shocking 

Ronan: No harm done, ah come on, could let him have his invite

Ali: it’s my parents not me!

Ali: also who do you propose looks after him all night, boy, ‘cos I know it wouldn’t be you

Ronan: Carls

Ronan: do you not trust her to?

Ali: I don’t think that’s how she wants to spend her evening

Ronan: She spent ages with him at your last party, what’s the difference

Ronan: and won’t your brother who likes doing women’s work be there?

Ali: that’s a new one, he’ll like it, so retro

Ali: and he’ll be keeping his keen friend away from Bart, like

Ronan: There’s why you’re the smart one, you’ve only gone and solved what his pissy mood must be about

Ronan: I’d forgot her

Ali: Mhmm, he’s wishing she’d forget him sharpish 

Ronan: Ha

Ali: You could do the right thing and distract her yourself

Ronan: Distract her how, she’s keen on him not us

Ali: You don’t think you could change her mind, come on

Ronan: Nah, I don’t

Ali: you could

Ali: but I’m also just messing around, obvs

Ronan: You reckon?

Ali: Totally

Ronan: If I weren’t messing myself, like

Ali: there’s so much else for us to be getting on with 🎇💥🎆

Ronan: True enough

Ali: can’t let me down now

Ronan: Never

Ali: You’re the best

Ronan: Give over

Ali: sorry sorry, lack of socialisation getting me cheesy

Ronan: Your boyfriend coming this time?

Ali: Do you think I’m making him up?

Ronan: I’m asking when’s he gonna prove he exists if you’re not

Ali: coming for me hardcore tonight, I see how it is

Ronan: Or him, why don’t he wanna be at your party, all your parties

Ali: shy is going to sound like a copout at this point

Ronan: It does

Ronan: girl who’s mates with your brother is shy, she still parties when you throw ‘em

Ali: He just prefers alone time, idk, it doesn’t bother me that he doesn’t want to be at my parties

Ronan: Aren’t you bothered about him meeting your friends?

Ali: would you be?

Ronan: I’ve no girlfriend

Ali: if you did, would you want her to meet all that lot

Ronan: Isn’t how we do things

Ali: yeah, there you go

Ronan: There I go, but it’s different for you

Ali: girls usually only intro their boyfriends if they want to show off, in my experience

Ronan: He’s not worth showing off, is it?

Ronan: say no more

Ali: Ha ha, dickhead

Ali: some things make for good secrets, that’s it

Ronan: If you’d rather keep secrets

Ali: if you’d been given the choice, wouldn’t you have rather no one knew about you and Carly?

Ronan: Me and Carly was shaming

Ali: would it have been if not for everything Moses did

Ronan: Would’ve been a mistake still

Ronan: is your boyfriend that?

Ali: no, I like him

Ronan: What’s the sense keeping secret and away someone you like?

Ronan: I don’t get it

Ali: He’s older, alright

Ali: old enough he’d get in trouble

Ronan: Old enough he’s the need to be strung up himself, like?

Ali: nah, still a teenager

Ali: but you know how my kind can be if the mood takes

Ronan: Where’d yous meet, school? Be why you’ve been going in regular

Ali: that was all down to my ma, trust me

Ronan: If you say so, I do

Ali: he doesn’t go to my school, I don’t get to see him much

Ronan: Don’t he drive?

Ali: he does

Ali: but when I’ve school I HAVE to go to and we’ve both jobs, barely any time really, what I meant

Ronan: Your ma’ll ease up now you’ve behaved, she’s not banned the party

Ali: she would if she knew of him

Ronan: None of us’ll tell her, even Barty boy at his sulkiest and he won’t be when I’ve finished

Ali: I appreciate it, you know that, yeah

Ronan: Carls might want watching when she’s a state but it’s nothing you don’t know yourself

Ali: She’s cool

Ronan: No troubles is what I like to hear

Ali: You and me both, boy

Ronan: I’d hate for you to be off the minute you’re back

Ali: No way

Ali: unless I get a better offer, of course

Ronan: I was the best earlier

Ali: and I had all the faith in you that you didn’t yourself

Ronan: Keep it, unless your secrets are weighing you down

Ali: You’re acting like it’s weird but think about it, you never told anyone what happened between us

Ronan: To do you a favour, he’s the man you’re not to protect him it’s the other way ‘round

Ali: it does me a favour too

Ronan: With your mammy but as I’ve said none of us are snitches

Ali: so what favour were you doing me?

Ronan: Of Moses not treating you the way he does Carly

Ali: I can handle Moses

Ronan: You’ve no need to with how I handled it

Ali: Sure but you get my point

Ronan: Yeah

Ali: you don’t want him to come to the party?

Ronan: When did I say he’s not to come?

Ali: I’m asking

Ronan: I’m cool with him, I dunno why you’d ask

Ali: Okay

Ronan: Right then, I’ve a cousin to find and fireworks to source

Ali: In a bit then

Ali: [Private to Carly]

Ali: Well

Ali: that was tense

Carly: - craic all round ☔️🥀

Carly: cept your boy making himself known to tell mosey to shh 😅

Ali: wasn’t expecting a banner or anything but damn

Ali: he’s probably pissed off with me now too

Carly: why youre talking to me instead of him 👀 none taken baby

Carly: & you can always have your banner off us 🥳🥁🏆🎊✨🎉🎈🎁

Ali: I wanted to check on you, actually, shh

Carly: im grand

Ali: that was a dick move from him

Carly: used to moves like that & its nothing a party won’t fix

Ali: he seems really bothered, too bothered to just be business as usual

Carly: I got too in his & hes 😤😠😡🤬 @ me

Ali: in his head

Carly: idk

Carly: werent far enough to find sense still 😵‍💫🙃🤯

Ali: boys are so confusing 

Carly: ive never had the knowing of a boy so 🥵🧲😈🔥🧨💥 to 🥶🧊🍦❄️⛄️

Ali: conflicted comes with the territory, sadly

Ali: does he want what his body is saying he wants or what his head is telling him he should

Carly: w them 2 the other 2 acted on what they wanted

Carly: no chance of whiplash like only different injuries

Ali: do you reckon you’d rather

Ali: or it’s a ❌ for all of them for now

Carly: spite of what hes putting about in the groupchat I’d never go back esp not crawling to moses, my god

Carly: ive sense I was born w if no more

Ali: you know I’m not judging

Ali: I remember all too well what 🥶🧊🍦❄️⛄️ was like to act otherwise

Carly: moses true colours arent ❤️🍄🧡🐅💛🌞💚🍀💙🧿💜🔮

Carly: his 🥵🧲😈🔥🧨💥 scares me, what he’s said & i know he’d do

Ali: I won’t let him

Ali: and he doesn’t need to come

Carly: im in no danger @ this distance & thats to include if he comes

Carly: idm

Ali: only if Johnny comes which he never will

Carly: theyve 💪🥊🤕 from 👶👶 nothing’ll get em to quit never

Ali: too much difference between them

Ali: it happens

Carly: look @ my ma & me 🍏 & 🍊 to be sure

Carly: we’ve only no bad 🩸🩸 cos I let none spill

Ali: I know, problem is Moses is made to be his when there’s nothing to be done

Carly: maybe he’ll outgrow it some as an elder, hes time to

Ali: never say never

Carly: I did ⬆️ but I take it back 💙🧿💙

Carly: & 🙏💙🔮💜🤞🌠 on everything they’ll find their peace of sorts 1 day

Ali: you don’t owe nice

Carly: u sound like bb when hed have me leave my ma for 💀👻

Ali: that’s your mother, like

Ali: nothing is that simple

Carly: he dont know complicated, his cooks & cleans for him when hes home from a long day working w his daddy 🍀🐇🌠🎲

Ali: their parents seem really sound, from what I’ve been told and seen around

Carly: I love his mammy shes really nice to me 🦘👑💎🌞🐻😇🐘

Carly: not that she would b if she’d found me in his van but hey for now shes 

Ali: I wish I could know her

Ali: have you been back to his since?

Carly: how we left things hes probably moved his spare 🔑 since

Carly: wouldnt blame him but Ive not got it in me to check

Ali: I wouldn’t be able to either

Carly: i’ve already been knocked 🤢🤮 giving up everything for him to still call me mental the same as if I never

Ali: what about your proper meds?

Carly: ive my knowing of the date cos u said it idk

Ali: no wonder you feel 🤢🤮 babe, you have to taper that shit if you wanna go off it or your body is gonna go crazy

Carly: oh

Carly: so maybe hes right & I am ❤️🐇🐛☕️🌹

Carly: ah no the 🎢 is me

Ali: well, he could’ve definitely still been a prick, no need to rule it out but yeah

Ali: we’re to get an appointment and the doc will tell you how to get off ‘em and not feel insane/terrible

Carly: am I to get off em?

Carly: should I?

Ali: do you want to or did Bartley tell you to?

Carly: idk if he’s knowing about 💊👨‍⚕️ i dont remember ever telling him it werent all from cavante

Ali: he could’ve misunderstood, saying to stop them is more reasonable if simplistic 

Ali: I’m not going to go and smack him one anyway

Carly: is erin coming tonight cos he’ll be 👀 for me to smack her

Carly: I’ve memory of saying so

Ali: I’ll get Tommy to put her off

Ali: no 👊 needed

Carly: I cant 👊 you’d have to do it 🦋🐝

Ali: I’d begrudge it when Moses and now Bart have been nos, like

Carly: if I talk to him either @ the party or before & hes in a worse mood for it please please don’t be 😤😠😡🤬 @ me too

Ali: of course not

Ali: the bad vibes are nothing if not appropriate, I guess

Carly: theyre my fault & its your 1st party since ur ma got 😤😠😡🤬

Carly: i feel so bad

Ali: you feel bad because you’re poorly

Ali: we can just cancel the party

Carly: no feckin way r we 🎅🎁👹🔔⛓🌜😈🐐

Carly: i’ll drag myself to yours if ive to & bring the deadliest party on my own

Ali: well, we can’t have you getting gravel burn

Carly: wouldnt be the 1st time but the most worth it of many a

Ali: okay, okay, no party💩ing, promise

Carly: yay

Ali: though I am going to have to brave talking to Johnny now, as you’ve brought up gravel burn, so, give me all the luck I need

Carly: you dont need none he loves u

Ali: maybe he’ll talk to his brother

Ali: though I don’t think Bart would tell him the truth? Idk, still might make him feel a bit better

Carly: I’d bet hes as wes talking

Ali: yeah, he will be

Ali: I’ll not bother him for a bit, be good

Carly: might be they’re 🍻🎱🎯 down the local

Carly: name a lad who wouldn’t be 😁 by it ☔️☀️🌈

Ali: a shout

Ali: I’d be 

Carly: me too but only if theyve 🎵🎶 & not just 👴🍺🚬 ive often that craic waiting @ home

Ali: no music no party

Carly: your 🎤🍯💛‘d get it going anywhere

Carly: sing tonight & everything’ll turn round

Ali: I’ll sing for you, how about that

Carly: do you mean to?

Ali: Yep

Ali: whatever you like

Carly: I’ll sing for you too then though I’ve nowhere the power you’ve

Carly: weve to stick together & combine our 🌑🌌🔮🌠🎱🎇💣🌌🌑 all we can when it’s shite & wrong, how u said

Ali: 🐇🐣🦋🌼 soft power all of your own

Ali: 🔁 always

Carly: ive felt im a trapped 🦋🐞🐜🐛 climbing walls

Carly: after ripping my wings or legs off like

Ali: we’ll get it in the morning, okay, first thing

Carly: dr’ll be 😤😠😡🤬 @ me

Ali: they just don’t know how to talk to people nice, not like nurses, I’ll be there and do the talking, so they know how upset you are and struggling

Carly: he cant be told that, he’ll away me to somewhere like your brother is

Ali: no he won’t, not for that

Ali: you can tell me what you want me to say but trust me, they don’t have the space to be putting everyone with struggles in there

Carly: [her mum’s name] says I’m to keep my gob shut or lie if its to be open & all I do’s make her look bad telling I’ve struggles at all

Ali: It isn’t about her, it’s your brain and your feelings

Carly: yea but she’ll be v 😤😠😡🤬 if we go

Ali: we’ll say we’ve gone for me then

Carly: k that’ll work

Ali: it’s all in hand

Ali: and you’ll feel all the better for it

Carly: I wont have to speak to him you’ll do it?

Ali: Yep

Carly: k 💛

Carly: drag myself there next 🍓🩸

Ali: 🚲 us there

Carly: ilysm id carry u

Ali: I love you too

Carly: I wish you could talk to that boy how u are the dr

Carly: youd find words to put to whats wrong w us & they’d be right 1s not like what comes out of me all wrong

Ali: If I thought he’d appreciate that and not be full 😤😠😡🤬 at the lack of privacy

Carly: I just want him to understand

Carly: when he asked me what I shouldve said so

Ali: you weren’t in a good headspace, the fact you got any words out to make sense is impressive enough given

Carly: he were impressed by my 🧽✨🧼🧺🧹🥄🍴🍳 anyway 

Carly: least that sort of mental has its use

Ali: Of course he was

Ali: they’d have gorja girls so incapable we don’t know how to work a microwave, bless ‘em

Carly: my ma’s example doing nothing ever to change their way of thinking

Ali: but she’s really got the aesthetic, eh

Carly: ah that what we’re calling it now?

Carly: of all the cultures to take from what matters the least she didn’t bother herself to venture far from the front door

Ali: suppose I’m not to talk when I’m trying to think of a Krampus costume but yeah

Carly: but no youve an important point

Carly: what are we to wear? he told me I looked nice when I dressed for him

Ali: you could go full 🤶?

Carly: feels too erin idk

Ali: right, we need to workshop that

Carly: im still me w out 🍭🍬🚬🌿🌼🍄

Carly: or I hope ive some personality underneath

Ali: of course you are, you’re always the youiest you

Carly: heads together 🧠💫🧠

Carly: we’ve need to be of a mind to shut em up calling u 🥱😴💀👻 for being taken by ur man johno while we’re about it 

Ali: do you think I am

Carly: don’t u be daft!

Carly: theyre gobshites

Carly: ro for his jealousy, moses to stir & bb cos of my carry on

Ali: I know I’m different but I don’t know how to act as if I’m not

Carly: you’ve no cause to act no way for them lot

Carly: youre magic as is & theres nothing in all whats unreal to b changed

Ali: 💜💜💜

Carly: 💛👼💡👩🏼‍🎤🌟🐱🧚‍♀️🏆✨🐝🧙🏼‍♀️🌞🦁🌻👑🌝🧜🏼‍♀️🍯🎇👩🏼‍🚀

Ali: You’re my best friend

Carly: i’d never had 1 before & now I dont want another ever ever again but u

Ali: you better not replace me

Carly: w who? erin? or your neighbour girl?

Ali: yeah, exactly

Ali: you’re too smart to waste your time

Carly: youre the only 1 to say im smart & not mean it as slagging

Ali: people are dumb if they don’t see it in you

Carly: or blind by ur 💡🌝💫🌞🌠🎇🌟🌜✨🌌⚡️☄️

Ali: i’ll go 🖤 with my outfit, you shine solo

Carly: I’m not after no solo spotlight, duet or never

Ali: 💞 it is

Ali: but there’s a lot I need to cover for real

Carly: & lots im to get out since im no longer ❤️💜💙

Ali: fur bikini for sure

Carly: sure id win @ 🥶🧊🍦❄️⛄️

Ali: they’d all be 🥵🧲😈🔥🧨💥 but right so they’ve not earnt it

Carly: if his attention could be earned id try it

Ali: he’s paying attention, fuming or otherwise

Carly: how many drinks in him before I give mine?

Carly: 🍺🍺🍺? 🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺?

Ali: 🍺🍺🍺

Ali: too much could go badly as easily as it could go well

Carly: & we’ve no knowing if theyve started yet

Ali: I’ll ask Johnny for you

Carly: as you’ve to talk yourselves, yea

Ali: 🤞🤞🤞

Carly: 🌑🌌🙏💙🔮💜🤞🌠🍀🐇🎱🎲🎇💣🌌🌑

[lovelybucky1]

using the prompt “i may not like you, but i’m not heartless” from this post

warnings: AFAB reader (no pronouns used), pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), vaginal fingering, arguing, enemies to lovers, 18+ minors DNI

masterlist

You’re wound tight. Everyone can tell, and it’s affecting every part of your life; your flying, your sleep, your temper. Maverick has talked to you multiple times about loosening up because nothing good comes from tension when you’re in the air. You’ve tried everything to relieve it, but nothing has worked.

It’s not the pressure from the mission, the g-forces you’ve been enduring day after day, or the uncomfortable mattress in your apartment that’s making you tense. It’s one tall, blonde, devastatingly handsome pilot that somehow has cracked the code to pushing your buttons.

He’ll tease you occasionally, but it’s his subtle glances, how he focuses on your lips when you talk, how he brushes against you when you walk past that get you going. The worst part is, there’s nothing you can do about it. He does it just to fuck with you because he’s an asshole. He loves to get you flustered and angry and to see you squirm.

Arguing with Hangman isn’t uncommon for you, and most of the team doesn’t bat an eye when you get into yelling matches on the tarmac. Today is like every other, your faces inches apart, his finger waving in yours while your hands are clenched into fists at your sides.

“Maybe if you weren’t so goddamn pissy all the time, you’d actually be able to listen to your teammates!”

“Listen to my teammates? You’re fucking with me, right?”

“I’m serious! You’re so fucking unreliable up there!”

“Do you even hear yourself?” you yell, astonished at his own hypocrisy.

He doesn’t answer your question, just brushes it off and continues to yell. “Maybe if you get whatever stick is up your ass out, you’ll be able to fly like the rest of us again!”

Before you could continue to argue, he storms away to catch up with the rest of the pilots who have long abandoned the two of you.

Frustrated and angry, you head back to the base as well. You throw your gear in your locker and you take a shower, scrubbing at your skin to get the crawling feeling of Hangman off of you.

Luckily you avoid a talking to from Maverick on your way out, and you make it back to your apartment in peace.

You decide to have a quiet night in. You make yourself dinner, put on your favorite TV show, and sit on the couch until you’re tired enough to move to the bed.

At 11, you were about to turn off the TV when you hear a knock at the door. Confused, you look through the peephole to see who is coming to your door this late at night.

Hangman. Hangman wearing shorts that are just a touch too short and a tank top that hides very little of his chest. You pull open the door just enough to make your face visible.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too.” He rolls his eyes.

“What do you want, Seresin?”

“I want to help you out,” he says simply. Your confused look is enough to encourage him to keep talking. “I’ve never seen someone more tense than you are. I can help relieve some of that.”

You stand still, staring back at him in disbelief. There’s no way in hell he’s offering what you think he is.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you ask, more annoyed now that you think he’s pranking you.

“Jesus, you’re slow,” he huffs. “I’m offering to fuck you so you’re not so goddamn uptight and unbearable to be around.”

You should feel disgusted. You should slam the door in his face. You should report him for sexual harassment. You should get him kicked off the team. But you don’t.

“Why would you want to do that?” you ask suspiciously.

“I may not like you, but I’m not heartless. I can tell you need a good fuck, and it’d be better for everyone if you got one.”

You consider his offer. You know he’d fuck off if you told him to and he’d never bring it up again, but the strange part is, you want it. You hate him too, but you can admit that it’s been a while since you’ve gotten any, and your rushed, underwhelming orgasms that you’ve given to yourself lately aren’t enough.

You clench your jaw and open the door, wordlessly inviting him in. He grins, that stupid, cocky grin, and walks into your living room. When you shut the door behind him and turn around, you find him much closer than you were expecting.

He puts his hands on your hips and looks down at you, taking in the sight of this new angle. You don’t feel disgusted at his touch, instead you lean into him, enjoying the feeling of his body heat enveloping you.

There’s a look in his eyes that tells you he wants to kiss you, but he doesn’t. He slides his hands from your hips to your ass and squeezes roughly, groping you in your own living room. He pulls you closer so your chests are touching, but he still doesn’t kiss you.

“Let’s go to the couch,” you say with a needy voice that you almost don’t recognize.

In a flash, you’re at the couch. He pushes you down so you’re sitting, lounged back against the arm of it while also tucked into the corner. He looks at you with a slight raised eyebrow, silently asking if this is okay. When you give a nod, he pounces.

He leans over your body, his knees on either side of your right thigh and his hand holding him up from the arm of the couch. You watch helplessly as he moves closer, and once again you think he’s going to kiss you. Instead, his lips find your jaw and he kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking in the spots he’s deemed sensitive.

You’re letting out quiet moans between your heavy pants, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from making a noise that would warrant any teasing.

He kisses all over your neck and as far down on your chest as he can before he is stopped by the collar of your tank top. He sits up, kneeling on the couch while he pushes your shirt up, stopping just underneath your breasts. He then kisses your stomach, still biting and marking you where you’re sensitive. He notices that kisses along the waistband of your shorts make you jump, and he loves knowing where to touch to get the best reaction out of you.

He sucks on the skin of your lower stomach, not enough to leave marks, but certainly enough to leave you aching for more.

“Come on, baby, tell me what you need,” he says in your ear. You huff, like hell you were going to beg for Jake Seresin. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop and we can finish whatever chick-flick you were watching.”

He picks his head up and looks at you, his eyes dark with lust, a look you never thought you’d see from your enemy. Despite your desperation, you still have dignity.

“I’m not going to beg.”

Hangman smirks and kneels up. “I never said anything about begging, princess. I just need to know what you want.”

You roll your eyes and resign yourself to the fact that he’s a tease and he really won’t give you anything else unless you ask.

“I want you to make me cum, Seresin.”

He grins. “Was that so hard?”

You don’t answer, choosing to cross your arms and glare at him instead. He laughs at your stubbornness and doesn’t let it deter him in the slightest. He sits back on the couch and manhandles you into his lap so you’re back is pressed against his chest.

He slips his fingers under the waistband of your lounge shorts. He strokes over your pussy gently through your panties, teasing you before pushing them to the side and sliding his finger between your lips. The brush of his calloused fingertip over your clit makes you jump, but Hangman’s hold on your waist keeps you in place.

“You’re so sensitive, princess. You really need this, huh?” he says, voice teasing.

“God, do you ever stop talking?”

Two of his fingers find your clit and begin to circle it. Your breath hitches and you can hear his laughter rumble through his chest.

“Only when my mouth is occupied,” he smirks against your neck.

His lips find that sensitive spot underneath your ear again, and he sucks a mark onto your skin while his finger pushes into you. He groans at the feeling of you squeezing around his finger and you have to hold back a sigh of relief from being filled.

He fucks you slowly to loosen you up before putting in a second finger. He curls them inside of you and you gasp at the feeling. Hangman rubs the spot inside of you that you can barely reach yourself and it makes you dizzy.

You relish the feeling of Hangman’s solid, muscular chest behind you, the heat radiating off of him, and the strange comfort it brings you to be held like this, even by someone you hate.

You grind your hips against his hand as much as you’re able to. With his fingers working inside of you, the heel of his palm presses on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. He doesn’t stop you from moving; he praises you quietly in your ear and encourages you to keep going.

“That’s it, princess, take what you need. That feel good?” You nod helplessly and he chuckles quietly. “You’re so good for me.”

The praise is unexpected, but you can’t deny how warm it makes you feel to be told you’re doing good. He thrusts his fingers inside you faster now, somehow sensing how close you are.

“God, please,” you moan quietly.

“Name’s Jake, but that works too,” he teases. Leave it to him to piss you off even when you’re this close.

“Shut the fuck-” You’re cut off by a moan from Hangman biting down on your shoulder.

“Cum for me, princess,” he says, and you do. It washes over your body, a feeling of relief as pleasure burns in your abdomen. You throw you head back on Hangman’s shoulder and he takes the opportunity, with you distracted by your orgasm, to kiss you. It’s gentle, soft, affectionate, and entirely unexpected.

Once you ride through your high, your body goes limp in his arms as the tension seeps out. He gently pulls his fingers out and removes them from your shorts. He wipes your wetness on his thigh, then wraps both arms around you and holds you tight.

“Seresin…” you say, voice weak.

You’re surprised he hasn’t made a move to continue. You’re surprised he’s stayed this long and doesn’t show any signs of leaving.

“I’m not gonna leave… unless you want me to?” he adds, suddenly sounding unsure in a way you’ve never heard before.

You’re quiet for a moment while you consider what he said. He’s leaving it up to you if you want him to stay. He’s not running out of here, making excuses on why he can’t spend the night. He’s letting you make the choice, and oddly enough, you don’t want him to leave.

“Stay,” you whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, just holds you closer to his chest and lets you relax in his hold.

You can talk about it in the morning.