#because I will spontaneously combust from the stress.”

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

okokokay I did that. I have one third done…

I’ll do the rest tomorrow (I hope)… well, technically today but eh.

The soul fractions worked by the way lol

[musical-chick-13]

I really--and I cannot stress this enough--really don’t want to get my hopes up about season 3, because I did that with season 2, and then SO many things happened that I hated, but this trailer looks...really good? Mostly?

Like, obviously Claudia is back (win), Natalia seems like she’s okay (win), someone goes after Pablo and Raúl gets drone-delivered a blackmail package (I cannot ever fully articulate how much I want these two characters to feel every conceivable negative emotion all at the same time for eternity), obviously there’s a further attempt at dividing the students and Alex seems like she might be the first one to cave (win), and the focus is on a murder-cover-up-turned-mystery?

The only huge Grievance™ I have is that we saw Raúl a lot, but I’ve just accepted that he’s a big part of the show and a main character at this point. Idk, maybe he’ll die. If the writing team kills him off, I will take back every negative thing I ever said about this show.

[sunshinesprats]

Arlan Relationship HCs

G/N Reader, reader is a staff member of the medical team

• As the head of the security department, Arlan takes his job very seriously. You’d think that would make his presence very scarce around the space station

• But, if he has time during his shift to play holodisc with Peppy, he has time to see you during the day

• If you’re available, he invites you to come play!

• Your shifts end at roughly the same time, but you’re always the one wandering into the security department to ask him to eat dinner with you. Away from all of his work “bros” of course, if you care about his sanity

• He always says yes, his heart fluttering

• This is one of Arlan’s favorite times of day, he can’t exactly forget about work but eating with you takes his mind off the stress. You both make sure that you’re eating different meals every couple of days that are nutritionally fulfilling, and not just cosmic fried rice for 5 days in a row

• If you openly hold his hand while you’re in the cafeteria, he’ll spontaneously combust

• Arlan has a hard time with words and initiating any sort of affection. PDA is embarrassing for him. I think he has a hard time understanding why you’d want to pursue *him* out of everyone on the space station.

• He feels he can only, truly relax when he’s in your cabin or his. He likes resting his head in your lap and talking about his day, his face hot with embarrassment the entire time. He’s so cute

• He lets you take his hair out of its ponytail and stroke it while he talks. It’s super relaxing and nearly puts him to sleep every time. Melts when you kiss his forehead or cheek

• Arlan thinks he’s the big spoon. He would like to be the big spoon. But he isn’t. He is very much the little spoon. What can he say? He likes being wrapped up in your embrace, he feels so safe there

• He is so touch starved. Please hold him, he deserves it

• Definitely is not the first to say ‘I Love You.’ Not that he doesn’t love you! He’s just too nervous to say it or type it out in a message. He does his best to show you instead

• He can’t message you from his own phone often due to his lack of credits he refuses to let you help him with, so I feel like he would secretly message you at work on one of the computers. He starts his day pretty early so he can’t eat breakfast with you. Arlan usually asks you if you’ve eaten, and wishes that you have a good day and to contact him if you need anything

• You never do because he has enough on his plate already

[cryptocism]

So, out of curiosity (AND a slight fear of messing with what you've laid out so clearly in Frequency, which I see as the most reasonable and rational explanation to Thad's character inconsistencies basically, ever), I am wondering if this version of Inertia from Flash #760 fits into the Too Many Thads AU anywhere? From what I can tell, he's the only one not mentioned in your very thorough (and impressively detailed, he was at boomerang's funeral, excuse me sir why are you here???) timeline of Thad appearances. Would you consider him one of the clones we get from the AU, like Six? Or maybe just Thad himself given he's sort of just... chilling in the Speedforce lol. Or did you just not consider him given it's yet another instance of Thad appearing, doing something wild, then disappearing as quickly as he came haha. (Also, I just noticed he says vibrational FREQUENCY, nice👏)

i did... kinda include this iteration. but admittedly it's pretty brief, and the bits of story that take place in the speed force sit in dreamy abstraction rather than solid prose

start of chapter 2 when Thad is running thru the speed force:

He thinks he sees the Flash, once or twice. Tick tock tick tock. You’re running out of time, Barry. But he often thinks he sees lots of people. Once, he thought he saw Max. But the memories exist in his mind the same way a daydream would, and he can’t be sure if it was real.

The "tick tock tick tock" line is taken directly from #760

compared to the other threads of canon that Frequency is written around, it's definitely more on the borders of believably. The "tick tock" line and the bit where Thad threatens to snap his fingers and "blast Barry's mind to pieces" harkens back to the Kid Zoom era and Rogues Revenge, which fucks with my attempt to differentiate this Inertia as a separate person from Kid Zoom. but the hiccup feels minor enough that i think it still works

(and on a tangential note the whole "i'll snap my fingers and blast your mind to pieces" line straight up doesn't make sense to me because YES Kid Zoom famously snapped his fingers and exploded a baby, but he accomplished that by fast-forwarding that baby's timeline so quick that its literal molecules shook apart under the stress. Barry is a speedster and would not respond to timeline manipulation in that way - if at all - because his molecules are already used to that kind of shit. it's a weird and out of place threat to make and i think Williamson may have gotten the impression that Kid Zoom acquired the power of spontaneous combustion which he Fucking Did Not ok rant over)

the general idea i was going for was: Thad is running on rage, sees Barry, has the brief confrontation in #760 where Barry mostly just feels bad for him, and then disappears back into the storm. Implication being that Thad has actually had a couple different interactions with people during his 5 years in the speed force (Eobard, Max, Barry, etc) who try to convince him of things or promise him things, but staying for that long in the speed force (without being dead) fucks with perception a little bit, especially perceptions of Time. so when he's out and looking back on it, Thad can't totally discern what happened, what didn't, or in what order.

also the attendance at Captain Boomerang's funeral gets a shout out near the end of chapter 8 when Bart is going through Six's collection of Four's old stuff:

Some of the items on the shelf he didn’t recognize. A shot glass. A funeral pamphlet for one Digger Harkness. Several empty syringes and auto-injectors all meticulously arranged. A variety of small gadgets and devices that Bart couldn’t place.

because the funeral is technically Inertia's return after the events of Mercury Falling, I translated that as Four's first appearance in the 21st century

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

Lol as soon as I saw this I knew I wanted it 😭😂😂

IMG 4, prompts 37 & 38 with either Chan or Seungmin please! 🩷🌸

Skz prompt game

Prompts: "You're n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you...?"

"Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?"

Member: Kim Seungmin

Relationship: Neighbors!FemReader x Seungmin

The first time you'd met Kim Seungmin, it had been under completely normal circumstances.

You had needed to borrow a cup of sugar.

Cliche, right?

But you really needed to stress bake these cookies and eat them all before bed, because you had a big job interview in the morning and what better way to relieve some anxiety than with warm chocolate chip cookies?

So, when you'd realized you had no sugar, it was a catastrophe, to say the least.

Without even thinking, you had gone next door and knocked on your neighbor's door.

You only realized it was a bad idea after it was too late to take it back.

After Kim Seungmin had opened the door looking like some sort of nerdy Greek God, confusion spread across his pretty face, dark hair still damp from a shower.

He had stared at you with confusion, and in a squeak, you had asked if he had any sugar you could borrow.

He had given you a look that clearly said he still didn't understand why you needed sugar at ten PM at night, but had promptly gone to retrieve you a cup.

You had taken it with a mumbled 'thanks' and scurried back to the safety of your own apartment.

Surprisingly, the cookies did not make you feel better, because they were only meant to soothe your new job anxiety, not erase the stupidly awkward way you had introduced yourself to your incredibly hot neighbor.

You vowed the next time you saw Kim Seungmin, you would be calm and collected, smooth and put together, ready for anything, not standing on his threshold in barely matching pajamas with a bird's nest for hair, holding a measuring cup.

Oh, how Karma is a Bitch.

********************************************************************************

The next time you see Kim Seungmin, it's just as bad, or maybe worse-no definitely worse-than the first time.

He opens his door at your knock, and his eyebrow ticks up in surprise when he sees you.

You give a little sheepish wave. "Hi."

He leans against the doorframe, and you try not to notice the way his cozy, soft looking sweater stretches over his arms as he does so.

Recognition crosses his face.

"Oh, Number Four right?"

You stare at him, confused. "What?"

He gives a little grin, and cocks his head, watching you, before he jerks his chin toward your apartment door directly down from his.

"You're from Number Four, yeah?"

You realize, with a jolt of stupidity and a flush to your cheeks, that he's referencing your apartment number, because of course, you hadn't given him your name the first disaster of a night.

You had been more focused on getting back to your apartment before you spontaneously combusted from embarrassment.

"Oh, right. Yeah." You give an awkward little laugh and swing your arms a little. "That's me."

Seungmin studies you for another brief moment, and you begin to fidget, before he asks, "How'd the interview go?"

You jerk in surprise, staring at him wide eyed.

He remembered?

"Um-" You scratch at the back of your neck, suddenly flushing again under his gaze, scuffing the toe of your shoe on the old, worn carpet that lines the hallway. "Yeah! Good. I got the job."

"That's great." Seungmin says with a smile, and you think he genuinely means it.

You stand in silence for a couple more moments, and then he clears his throat, finally asking, "So, did you need something?"

Fuck, you had forgotten the whole reason you had knocked on his door in the first place.

Something about big, brown, doe eyes did that to your stupid little monkey brain.

"Oh, yeah!" You give another nervous little laugh, and try to ignore the burning of your cheeks. "I um, kinda locked myself out of my apartment. Do you mind if I use your balcony to get in through my window?"

Surprise flashes across Seungmin's face, and then he's moving aside, giving you room to enter his apartment.

"Oh, um, yeah, sure. Go right ahead."

You squeeze past him in the doorway, and try to ignore the slight scent of his cologne that wafts over you as you do so.

Something cedar lined, if you had to bet, with hints of pine.

Focus, (Y/N).

Seungmin follows you through his kitchen and living room, and you note, with slight interest, that his apartment is just how you imagined from the one time you'd interacted.

Shelves of books line the wall behind the TV, and there's few and sparse decorations, but a nice, large leather couch takes up the majority of the living room space.

It's nice and cozy. Definitely a bachelor pad.

There's no touch of anything feminine-not even a cardigan left over the back of a chair, or shoes in the hall.

The thought makes you giddy for some reason.

Seungmin skirts around you to push open the large window that leads to his balcony, and gives you an amused sort of look as you consider the most ladylike way to shove your body through a window.

"Okay, um-" You hesitate, fingers wrapping around the sill, and glance out to the balcony beyond.

There's a couple of pots of what looks like herbs growing on the ledge that lines the window, but you should be able to shimmy your way out relatively easily.

"Need a boost?" Seungmin asks from behind you, and you jump so hard that your head hits the top of the sill.

He chuckles. "Sorry."

You shake your head, your face so red it could heat and cook an egg, and decide to just get it over with.

Surely someone like Seungmin isn't going to be looking at your ass as you crawl through his window anyway.

"Here I go." You announce, not really sure why, and push yourself out through the open window, hands first.

Your legs dangle for a minute as you scooch your body over the wide sill, and then with a slight shriek, you topple headfirst onto the grated metal floor of the small balcony.

"You good?" Seungmin peeks his head out, staring down at you.

You access yourself and then nod, dusting yourself off and standing up, gripping the fire escape railing for support.

Fuck, you had thought the third floor wasn't that high up, but out here-

You swallow, and focus back on the man still leaning out the window.

You give him a thumbs up that you hope looks more confident than you feel. "All good. Thanks for the help."

Seungmin watches as you slowly creep your way against the wall to your own terrace, and swing a leg over the railing to the adjoining balcony.

"How do you know your window is going to be open?" He queries, seeming like he's making conversation, and while you would like nothing more, you'd rather it be when you weren't three hundred feet off the busy street below.

You grunt a little as you lower yourself to your own balcony, and take a moment to catch your breath.

"I always leave it unlocked." You reply back, leaning forward enough that you can jostle your window and heave it upward.

It opens easily, and you let out a triumphant whoop.

"That seems unsafe." Seungmin comments, and when you glance back, he's sitting on the ledge of his own window so he can see you, legs dangling, worry in his dark brown eyes.

"What, leaving my window unlocked?"

He nods seriously. "Yeah, I mean, the crime rate is pretty high here."

You snort. "We're three hundred feet off the ground, dude. It'd have to be a pretty determined criminal."

You swing a leg over into the safety of your apartment, and let out a sigh of relief.

Seungmin's voice makes you pause.

"Stranger things have happened."

He still sounds concerned, and you slide the rest of your way into your apartment before you lean back out the window, popping your head around the sill so you can meet his gaze.

"The only thing that these tiny balconies have ever been used for, Number Six, is what you just witnessed." You give him a little grin.

Seungmin looks resigned, before he holds out a hand into the space between the two of you. "Throw me your phone."

You stare at him like he's just grown a second head.

"I am not throwing you my phone. Knowing my luck, you won't catch it and it'll smash on the concrete three hundred feet below us."

"I'll catch it." Seungmin assures, hanging farther out his window, giving you a pointed stare.

You slip your phone from your pocket and heft it into you palm, wondering how incredibly stupid you have to be to put this much trust in a man you've only met twice.

Though, he did let you use his balcony, so you guess you sorta owe him.

Resisting the urge to close your eyes to what happens next, you toss your phone over the railing to him.

He catches it easily, and you let out the breath you'd been holding.

He types something, and then tosses the phone back to you once more. You fumble it, but palm it in time, and stick it back into the safety of your pocket.

"Now you have my number." He announces, giving you a cheeky little look and an arch of his brow. "Just in case you ever get locked out again, or you need someone to save you from all the bad things that come in through your unlocked window."

You resist the urge to squeal and look at your phone.

Instead, you clear your throat and say in a rather calm voice, "Thanks. I appreciate the help. And the number."

He waves you away with a sigh, and starts to duck back into his own apartment. "Yeah, yeah. See you around, Four."

You grin, and shut your window.

********************************************************************************

You: I have a favor to ask. 👀

Six(y) Seungmin: Oh no. 😮‍💨

You: It's not bad!!! Six(y) Seungmin: Considering the last two favors you've asked of me were 1) for a cup of sugar and 2) to climb out my balcony, I'd say the spectrum with you is *very* broad and I have a right to be apprehensive.

You: .....Touché.

Six(y) Seungmin: What's the favor, Four?

You: Can you possibly, maybe, water my plant while I'm gone this weekend? Pretty please??

Six(y) Seungmin: *Plant*. As in, you have *one* plant?

You: Yes?🤨 What's wrong with that? If I have too many, I can't keep them all alive and I panic and then I feel awful when they die and have to have plant funeral services for them all. 🥺

Six(y) Seungmin: OMG. Fine. I'll water your *ONE* plant. 😑

You: You are an angel, Six.🥹 His name is Yongbok.

Six(y) Seungmin: ....like the fucking KPOP star?

You: I will not be taking anymore judgement this chat session, thank you. 😌

Six(y) Seungmin: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 You don't have to choose to take it, but just know it's there regardless.

********************************************************************************

"I made cookies!" You announce as soon as Seungmin opens his door, sweeping past him without waiting for him to invite you in.

He sighs, shutting the door behind you, and when he turns, his eyes go a little wide, staring at the large platter of chocolate chip cookies filling your hands.

"Holy shit, Four, how many cookies did you make?"

You glance down at the platter and give a little sheepish shrug. "I was stress baking."

He stares at you. "Why were you stress baking?"

Your cheeks go pink, and you set down the oversized tray of cookies on his table, jumping up on the counter to swing your legs.

"I have an annual performance review tomorrow."

Seungmin sighs again, and you know it's killing him to watch you sit on the counter without telling you off, but to his credit, he doesn't say anything, cocking a brow and asking, "And you think you'll do badly?"

"What? No!" You immediately protest, but then consider for a moment. "I mean, I don't think so? But also, it's stressful, and I don't know-"

Seungmin makes an understanding sound in the back of his throat, leaning against the couch, and you realize suddenly, as you reach over to pluck a cookie off the tray, that he's wearing nothing more than a robe, cinched tightly around his narrow waist.

The hand holding the cookie freezes halfway to your mouth.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, staring you down.

"You're n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you...?"

His brow ticks higher. "I mean. That's kind of the point of having my own apartment, so I can wear-or not wear-whatever I want, right?"

You shove the cookie into your mouth instead of responding, not wanting to lead your thoughts down that path, and promptly choke on the sugary treat, coughing violently.

Seungmin watches, a smirk curving his lips, as you dart to sink and take a long, gulp of water.

Your eyes are watering when you finally turn back to him, cheeks red and mind buzzing.

Instead of addressing the elephant in the room-obviously choking on a baked good at your friend's state of undress is not considered ordinary platonic behavior-you promptly cover your eyes dramatically, joking loudly, "Oh my god, put on some clothes! My eyes are burning here, Six!"

Seungmin sighs, and you hear his footsteps pad from the room.

Peeking out from between your fingers, your cheeks still burning, you turn back to the sink, and promptly splash cold water on your face and neck.

Everything is hot at the thought of Seungmin completely bare beneath that robe. And when you say everything, you mean everything.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

********************************************************************************

You: If I fucked as loudly as our upstairs neighbors, I would never show my face in public again. 🤢

Six(y) Seungmin: Sounds like you're jealous.

You: WHAT I AM NOT JEALOUS. WHY WOULD I BE JEALOUS.

Six(y) Seungmin: It's okay to admit you're in a bit of a dry spell, Four.😏 I mean, I've never seen you bring anyone home-guy or girl alike.

You: Oh, because you can tell so much from my comings and goings. 🙄

Six(y) Seungmin: That and you spend all your time with me. So. I know you're not getting any action. 😝

You: I hate you.

Six(y) Seungmin: No you don't. You're just cranky as fuck because you haven't been laid in like 6 months.😘

You: Reported. Blocked. Deleted.

********************************************************************************

"You know, most young people spend their free time at clubs or with their friends on the weekends, Four."

You glance up from your spot on the small fire escape balcony to see Seungmin grinning at you, climbing out onto his own balcony.

You lift a shoulder in a shrug. "Yeah, well I'm not most people."

Seungmin chuckles, checking over his carefully potted herbs before he glances up at you, a slight smirk on his lips. "Yeah, I've noticed."

You stick your tongue out at him, and settle your back more comfortably against the wall behind you.

"You're here too." You point out, glancing over at him again, as he sits down, legs dangling over the grating, thousands of feet above the busy nighttime street below.

"That I am." He admits with a tilt of his head in your direction and a sigh. "That I am."

There is silence for several seconds, both of you watching the tiny people below coming and going, the bustle of the city a quiet hum filling the cool night air.

It's nice out here.

Especially with Seungmin's company.

"What, did your weekend dick appointment fall through?" You glance at him sidelong, voice teasing, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt as the breeze picks up.

Seungmin gives you a slight smile. "Something like that."

"Bummer." You tease back, leaning your head against the wall and closing your eyes, letting the breeze caress your face, before you stare up for a moment at the stars just starting to breech the smog. "No other crazy weekend plans?"

Seungmin makes a little noise in his throat that you take as a no, and comfortable silence falls once more.

You hear Seungmin shift his position, and then he says off handedly, "You know, Four-"

"Hm?" You hum beneath your breath, still squinting to see the stars.

He shifts again. "-we could be each other's crazy weekend plans from here on out. If you wanted."

You blink slowly, trying to digest his words, not sure if you've heard him right.

Sitting up, you stare at him, his lips pulled into the hint of a nervous smile that doesn't quite reach his dark, beautiful eyes.

"What?" You ask stupidly, still staring at him, brain whirring.

Seungmin clears his throat, looking away to glance down at the street once more. "I'm just saying. We spend all our free time together anyway, maybe we could-"

He trails off, and you're still staring.

Butterflies are starting to come to life in your stomach.

Is he-?

"Are you asking me to date you?" You ask incredulously, shock morphing across your features, even as your stomach swoops at the crazy notion.

Seungmin rolls his eyes and pins you with a stare. "Well, you don't have to say it like you think it's a repulsive idea-"

"I'm sorry!" You laugh, waving your hands, scooting closer to your own railing, so you can stare at him through the bars. "I didn't mean it to come out like that. I just didn't think-"

"Didn't think what?" Seungmin questions, encouraging you to continue.

You clear your throat, your cheeks hot, and drop his gaze, your tone softening. "You were into me like that. Like I'm into you."

There is a beat of silence, and then Seungmin laughs, loudly and slightly unhinged, and you jerk your eyes up to him in surprise.

"Oh my god." He gasps out, fingers gripping the railing, almost close enough to brush your own. He stares at you with open glee in his dark gaze. "You're into me?"

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, giving him a glare. "Of course I'm into you! I think I've been halfway in love with you since the first time we met and you opened the door looking like some sort of studious Greek Adonis!"

Seungmin laughs some more and you watch as he swipes at his eyes, catching his breath.

"Oh god." He huffs out another little chuckle, and glances back to you, eyes gleaming, mouth pulled up at the corners. "I did think it was a little weird, stress baking and needing sugar at almost midnight, but after you left that night, I couldn't get you out of my head. I kept hoping you'd come back to return my measuring cup, but you left it on my doorstep without knocking and I didn't think I'd see you again."

"And then I locked myself out." You giggle, realizing just how silly you'd both been up until this point.

"Yeah." Seungmin nods, expression warm and affectionate. He leans forward to put his hand through the bars of the railing, and you take it.

His fingers curl around yours, and warmth spreads through your body.

A mischievous look glints in his eyes suddenly.

"Hey, Four, think you can make the climb over the balcony just one more time? For old times sake?"

You arch your brow at him, biting back a smile. "What's in it for me, Six?"

He grins. "A kiss?"

You grin back and nod, already moving. "Yeah, I think I can brave it one more time for that."

********************************************************************************

Six(y) BF: Okay. Listen. You. Me. Dinner.

You: Go on. 👀

Six(y) BF: Dessert on the balcony.

You: OMG. Are you trying to turn me on at work or are you really just that oblivious? 🥵

Six(y) BF: And then. Hot, dirty couch sex. 😏

You: I'm in.✅

Six(y) BF: Don't say I don't know what you like. 😘

You: Honestly, you had me at dessert, but the sex thing definitely sealed the deal.

Six(y) BF: I knew it would. 😏

Be ready. I'll pick you up at 8 PM sharp.

You: Don't be late.

Six(y) BF: Wouldn't dream of it. 😘

You: 😘 Love you, Six. 💗

Six(y) BF: Gross.

Love you too, Four. 💗

[damedechance]

It's my birthday today and if you wanna give me a gift you can read:

(in no particular order):

The Hit by @headcanonheadcase

(nessian hockey au, what more could you ask for? It's currently on my TBR, and if you want to catch yourself up on the series you can start with: The Bargain)

Mainstreet Mayhem by @headcanonheadcase

(gwynriel, a fic in progress which fills me with continuous overwhelming joy each day it updates!!)

Every Morning the Maple Leaves by @ofduskanddreams

The perfect Azris modern AU oneshot. And I can't stress this enough: crop tops. Btw a little birdie tells me that she has a special surprise planned for Azris week that includes my all time fave, What Lies Inside

Howl by @iftheshoef1tz

(also Azris, and the fic in progress which I hold solely responsible for the Azris brainrot I've been in lately. Guess who has the septum ring? 🐮)

Against Nostalgia by @houseofhurricane

(you may have THOUGHT I left my dramione era but you'd be dead wrong because I'm obsessed with this fic and it is SO well thought out and absolutely full of all the things I love in a story)

Fanservice for Your Fanfiction by @vulpes-fennec

(come on we all know gwyn would be a fanfic writer irl you can't tell me different and this whole fic is just chef's kiss)

You Look Like Bad News by @the-lonelybarricade

(every time I think of elucien I think of this fic and I have to go drink a gallon of water just so I don't spontaneously combust. If you know me you know I love smut and this certainty delivers)

Out of the Storm by @shadowriel

(top tier gwynriel, every single sentence had me on the floor screaming like I wish someone filmed me while I was reading this because I was literally so insane the whole time)

Embers by @ultadverb

(mor and elain. It works SO well and the execution is just astounding. You need to read this immediately and then report back because I have to gush about it with someone please I'm begging)

This is by no means an exhaustive list of fic recs, BUT it's Gemini season and thus I am entitled to force you all to read from some of my favorite people so yeah go through the list, pick one (or all), and then come back and scream about them with me. 🥰🎂🥳

[kivaember]

im sleepy from work so im just like. gonna write a cute little coffee shop au drabble of rusty teaching 621 to ride a bicycle ok

Raven was rarely self-conscious. It wasn't because he lacked any sense of shame or awareness, but because Walter and the Hounds had taught him early on that it was pointless to stress over the opinions of complete strangers. It was a liberating mindset to have, and he stuck by it religiously.

However...

"It's alright, buddy, I'm here. I won't let you fall."

...it seemed there were some things that still got him flustered.

Raven fought down the flush he could feel scorching his cheeks, painfully aware of Rusty's hand against his own. It was a bright summer's day, which brought with it a sticky heat that made Raven horribly aware of how hot and sweaty he was - how hot and sweaty his hand was.

But that wasn't what was flustering him. Around him people ambled past, enjoying their time at the sprawling public park while the weather was good, not paying much attention to Raven, awkwardly perched on a bicycle, and Rusty, who was gently keeping him upright by holding onto the handlebars.

"Just try cycling slowly, and get your balance," Rusty said, either politely ignoring or oblivious to Raven trying not to spontaneously combust. "Once you've got your rhythm, I'll let go, alright?"

Raven nodded stiffly, and cautiously he lifted his foot from where it was braced on the cycle path, immediately keeping the bicycle try to pitch to the side. He made a small noise - startled - but Rusty tightened his grip on the handlebars, easily keeping him upright through pure strength alone.

"I've got you," Rusty murmured.

Argh.

Raven couldn't really pinpoint what was getting him so hot and bothered and self-conscious about this whole scenario. He'd been intrigued when Rusty floated the idea of teaching him to ride a bike - so that they could go on bike rides together sometime - but now that he was sitting on said bike, in public, with Rusty murmuring gently at him, hand over his... he felt like he was going to explode, his stomach a nest for carnivorous butterflies.

What a novel experience, he couldn't help but muse, I hate it.

But he tried to power through it. He started to pedal, awkwardly, and the bike moved forwards at a snail's pace. Rusty walked alongside, keeping him steady, and the bike gradually picked up speed.

"You're doing just fine, buddy," Rusty said. "See? Not even a wobble this time. I'm gonna let go in a sec, okay?"

Raven nodded stiffly, horribly aware that his face was likely bright red, and his heart leapt in his chest when Rusty let go as he warned, taking away that steady support.

The effect was immediate: his bike wobbled, and Raven sharply turned the handlebars to counteract - only to feel himself start to pitch, so frantically turned them the other way-!

"Whoa, whoa-!" Rusty hurriedly grasped onto the handlebars, stopping him from colliding right into a lamppost and steering him back down the path. "That was close...!"

Raven groaned quietly, and lowered his foot onto the ground, stopping the bike.

{I'm too bad at this,} he signed.

Rusty laughed. "Everyone's bad when they first start."

Logically, Raven knew that, but illogically he still felt self-conscious and embarrassed. He wasn't sure why... it wasn't that he was embarrassed about struggling to ride a bike in public, he didn't care what people thought when looking on-

Oh.

Raven looked at Rusty, realisation dawning. No, he wasn't embarrassed about struggling in public, but in front of Rusty...

Since they'd met, Raven had excelled in most things they did together. Building model kits, fighting in the AC arena, playing video games... Raven lost in their little competitions, but he never failed. Even that disastrous hiking attempt they'd tried, Raven hadn't felt all that embarrassed about it because it had been a health issue - even if he did feel guilty about ruining Rusty's plans.

This was different. This was him humiliating himself over a simple activity that children as young as five could achieve. This wasn't the first time he'd almost crashed, or fallen over, or whatever. They'd been at this all morning, and he still couldn't cycle more than a handful of seconds by himself before pitching or swerving wildly.

His shoulders slumped slightly. Rusty had been pretty excited about the idea of them cycling together too...

{I'm really bad,} he signed, not bothering to hide his despondancy. {I'm taking too long to learn, I'm sorry.}

Rusty didn't immediately say anything, and Raven avoided making eye contact. After a pause, Rusty sighed quietly and rested a hand atop of his head, his fingers gently running through Raven's hair.

"Hey, it's alright. This is just the first lesson, so it's not like I'm expecting you to be a cycling master after a few hours," he said gently. "But... if it's stressing you out, we can just leave it here. I don't want you to force yourself if you're not enjoying it, Raven."

Ugh, that wasn't what Raven meant! Rusty was always making compromises for him like this... just once, Raven wanted to compromise for him!

Raven ducked his head out from under Rusty's hand, and when his boyfriend made a puzzled noise, pushed off the ground and started cycling hard.

"Ah-!? Raven-!??"

No more hesitating. No more moping. He was going to become a good cyclist, no matter how clumsy or bad at steering he was! He was going to catch up to Rusty-!

"Raven! Wait, wait, wait! You're going off the path- RAVEN! THE POND-!"

-

One unintentional pond dive and a broken bike wheel later, it was mutually agreed that maybe they should've started with training wheels...

[imacaprisun]

i know youve already written for him twice so you definitely don’t have to!but wheatley x autistic reader would make me spontaneously combust 

That's completely fine! He's one of the characters I put up for people to request me to write about. So I'll always be okay with writing him. Anyways, thank you for your request! Here's some headcanons for Wheatley x Autistic!Reader

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

Much like how he is with other mental disabilities, he isn't too sure of what autism is at first. He's heard of physical disabilities, but not so much of mental ones. You'd have to tell him a bit about the disability for him to know what it's about. Once Wheatley gets the idea of what you have, he'll go out of his way to research a bit on it. He wants to make sure he's being the best friend/partner for you.

Wheatley will let you ramble on about whatever you're hyper-fixated on for hours. Doesn't matter what it is. Do you like a certain part of history? Tell him everything you know about their civilizations. Do you like video games? Tell him everything about your favorite genres and which games you like the best. Do you like a certain show or cartoon? Tell him everything about the characters and the plot.

Sometimes, Wheatley will buy you something related to that hyper-fixation. Well, not sometimes, more like as soon as he has the money to do so. If it's a hobby you have, he'll buy you something for a new project or maybe he'll create something just for you. If it's related to a piece of media you like, he'll buy some merchandise for you. Wheatley will go to the deepest parts of the internet just to find you something you'll like.

When you're both out in public, Wheatley will make sure to keep a close eye on you. He knows that being out in public can be overwhelming for people like you. Be it the loud noises or just the vast amount of people in one area. If you ever seem like you're on the verge of breaking down, Wheatley will make sure he gets you out of that area as soon as possible. Don't you dare ever ask if you ruin everything for him because he's quick to shut down that argument altogether. You are his best friend/partner. As long as he's around you, he's having the most fun he's had in his life.

If you ever get so overwhelmed that you go nonverbal, Wheatley is always sure to bring something that you can write with. The first time this happened, he wasn't sure what to do. He had an idea of what breakdowns could be like and how to help you through them, but he never knew you could go nonverbal. To say he was a bit scared for you is an understatement. If you were so stressed out that you weren't able to talk, then he couldn't even begin to think how bad that stress could be! Thankfully though, you had your phone on you, allowing you to send Wheatley messages and inform him that this was completely normal for you sometimes.

Autistic Burnout can be the worst for you, but thankfully, you got Wheatley there to help you during those times. Most of the time, you'll be so exhausted that you can't do simple tasks when you go through burnout. At first, you were scared to tell Wheatley because of how people usually reacted to this information, but you should know by now that he takes things like this very seriously and will do whatever he can to help. He'll tell you to go rest and let yourself recover. Do whatever you like! Just as long as your giving yourself time to recover from burnout.

At one point, Wheatley was completely confused by stimming. "You just… flap your hands when you're overly excited?" It wasn't that he disliked you stimming, he just didn't understand it very well. You had to tell him that it helps you when you're feeling an excessive amount of emotions, most of the time being happy. Fast forward to when he gets overly excited about something he's interested in and he ends up rocking back and forth to 'experiment' with stimming. He enjoys it. A lot.

Honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if Wheatley was neurodivergent like you in some way. That would explain a lot… Although, as to why someone developed an A.I. that had similar behaviors as you, you would never know.

[cup1d-cafe]

Yuki (ninjago OC) power headcanons

Has the best stamina out of everyone, purely because she runs on the treadmill for 3 hours everyday while belting Taylor Swifts Eras Tour setlist ( ngl this is me projecting)

accidently developed a bloodless torture curse (like crucio from harry potter) when she was 10 and spewing random words after the death of her brother.

She's one of the strongest masters of Magic, stronger than her mother. Sensei Wu even admits "she's far beyond Asterias' skill level at her age. The last time the master of Magic was so powerful was when Queen Morana ruled." (The name Morana means death... sooo ✨️ foreshadowing✨️)

Despite being the purple ninja, her Magic isn't purple, it's actually pink.

Yeah that one was a surprise to everyone.

Turns out Dark magic is purple tho

look. she's not evil, but she developed a lot of Jinxes just to use for pranks

Once Lloyd made her blush so hard she burst into pink flames.

Jay pissed her off once and she burst into flames and her eyes glowed.

Jay Is scared of Yuki

Yuki turned Jay into a Squirrel multiple times

There's an inside joke about her spontaneously combusting

Her eyes glow when using her full power.

They also glow when concentrating. On anything. Or when angry.

Her eyes BURN when they glow for too long

PIXAL figured out it's probably the main cause of her migranes + stress + head trauma.

Curse marks that look like frostbite on her fingers after using the forbidden spell

Has a spell for EVERYTHING

Her metabolism is WHACK cause of her powers. Magic uses alot of energy & cals .

Remeber the hc that she forgets to eat? Sometimes after a battles she's completely worn out and this conversation follows:

Yuki: *on the verge of passing out* why am I so tired T_T

Zane: when was the last time you ate?

Yuki:.... God dayum

Everyone else: *pulling out protein bars* eat up

So yeah everyone keeps protein bars on them.

also is skilled at body manipulation after becoming more comfortable with the use of Dark Magic(similar to blood bending from ATLA)

Taught Nya how to manipulate someone's body by manipulating their blood like it was water.

did i mention her powers cause frequent fainting spells?

everyone genuinely thought she had narcolepsy for a while cause it'd happen EVERY day.

She temporally looses her power during a full lunar eclipse (2-3 times a year)

on the contrary, a total Solar eclipse empowers her even more (every 18 months)

overuse of magic can weaken the immune system

after the events of The Forces Of Destiny, she can astral project and channel (communicate with spirits of the past queens)

so yeah that's it for now :)

ill do a thorough breakdown of the magic system soon!

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 29

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2803

Warnings: Talk of death

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Forever and Always Peter Pan

****

Ghost

A pounding headache- stemming from her periodic sob sessions every couple of hours- kept the female aviator up most of the night. Even the ibuprofen she'd found in the kitchen at two in the morning barely dulled the pain, so Ghost turned off the alarm she'd set and suffered in silence, only rousing from her bed again at the sound of shuffling and a voice from somewhere within the house. She peeked into the hallway. No one there. She followed the noises to the kitchen and discovered Maverick on the phone; judging by the expression he wore, it wasn't necessarily the best conversation.

Ghost attempted to sneak away to give him privacy, but Maverick turned around just in time to see her. He smiled and bid goodbye to whoever he spoke to before hanging up and saying, "Morning. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, sir. I've been up. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just got off the phone with Rooster. He said Jules had a bad night. After the hurling stopped, the nausea stayed, so they've barely gotten any sleep. He's trying to convince her to go to the doctor, but she's staying firm and-"

"Not going?" Ghost finished, nodding understandingly. "She's got her dad's stubbornness."

"Tell me about it," Maverick agreed with a chuckle. "Would you like any tea? I'm making some before I head to the hangar."

"The hangar?" Ghost repeated, tilting her head in curiosity.

"I own a hangar and plane out in the desert. Plane's due for some maintenance. I'd invite you to come with me, but I might have my head ripped off by Juliette if I take you to the hangar instead of having you go to her place. Rooster might also lose his head by spontaneous combustion if you don't calm him down. Usually, Jules can, but since she's the source of his stress at the moment-"

"Say no more. I'll need to head to my place first because I have to take care of a few things, and then I'll head over there."

"Rooster and I, and our heads, appreciate it. Let me finish up our tea, and then I can drive you over whenever you're ready."

"I can take an Uber. I don't want to delay you from going to the hangar."

Maverick waved a dismissive hand. "I'll get there when I get there."

Ghost nodded and sat at the table, patiently waiting for the tea. She wondered what to say to avoid the awkward silence settling over them, but he beat her to the punch. "Why were you awake so early?"

Ghost shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Couldn't stop thinking of my dad and my fight with Hangman. The little sleep I did get was sporadic. It'll probably be like this for a few weeks, but I'll be fine. I always am. Nothing some ice cream and wine can't fix."

At that, Maverick laughed. "No wonder you and Juliette get along so well. She says the same thing."

"I'm honestly not sure which of us said it first, but it's always stuck. I know she's looking forward to being able to have a drink again." 

"Speaking of drinks, our tea is ready," Maverick said. "Do you want to drink it here, or do you want a to-go cup?"

"I'll take a to-go cup. That way, we can drink it in the car."

Something flashed in his green eyes, and unless Ghost was mistaken, she recognized it as disappointment. A pang of guilt struck her heart, but as much as she wanted to stay and talk to the captain, Ghost had things she needed to do. She grabbed her clothes from the night prior- now in a plastic bag for easy carry- and her purse before following Maverick out the door with her tea in hand. Ghost assumed they were heading to the Jeep but found herself pleasantly surprised when led to a motorcycle instead.

"That's a Kawasaki Ninja H2," Ghost observed with wide eyes.

Maverick grinned. "Unfortunately, it won't hold our drinks. Otherwise, we could take it. But when I return, you can take it for a spin."

"I can- you would-" Ghost sputtered in disbelief. "All right, but only if you take my Ninja ZX-4R for a spin so we can compare notes on the two."

"I knew you had a motorcycle, but I didn't realize it was a Kawasaki, too," Maverick said, his turn to be shocked.

"Yes, sir. My mom always had a soft spot for them, and it seems that trait passed to me."

"It's a deal then." Maverick grabbed a set of keys from a board in the back of the garage before heading to the Jeep. Ghost followed, but her gaze kept returning to the motorcycle until it was no longer visible. 

They arrived at her apartment too quickly, and while Ghost put on a brave face for Maverick, her heart sank to her stomach at the thought of being alone again. He must've picked up on her hesitance because he said, "If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call, okay?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for everything. It... it really turned my night around," Ghost confessed, opening the car door. She grabbed her things and bid the Captain goodbye. As she started walking away, Ghost turned on her heel and asked, "I hate to ask this of you, but would you be able to swing by Hangman's and check on him? And let me know if he's okay?"

"Of course." No hesitation. No questions. An indisputable amount of love and respect for him filled Ghost in that moment. Relieved, she told him graciously, "Thank you, Maverick."

Then Ghost went to her apartment. The Captain refused to drive off until he saw her safely inside. Ghost set down her stuff and turned on a light, staring at the immaculate space, save for the mugs residing at her kitchen sink, the only evidence two people had been here last instead of the standard one.

"I should've asked Mav to stay," Ghost mumbled to herself, shuffling to her bedroom. She plugged her phone into its charger and collapsed on her bed, texting Juliette and Rooster that she'd be over later after she got some stuff done at her apartment. Then she texted Jackie, asking her to call as soon as she was willing and able. Lastly, Ghost waited for Maverick to let her know about Hangman. He lived close by, so the response would come relatively quickly, but the ten minutes that dragged by were some of the longest in Ghost's life.

When her phone buzzed with an incoming message, she swiftly opened it to see who it was. The good news: it was Maverick. The bad news: he informed her he hadn't been able to get ahold of Hangman. Ghost sent off a "thank you" and groaned in dismay. Was Jake okay? Where was he?

Ghost's finger hovered over the call button for Hangman, a hairs' breadth away. She could try calling him, but most likely, he wouldn't answer. Besides, Ghost had given him such a final goodbye...

She exited out of the conversation and went to her contacts, calling someone else who could help. Someone who knew Hangman like the back of their hand.

"Hey, what's up?" Coyote answered on the third ring.

"Hey, where are you?"

"At the gym. Why?"

"When you get a chance, can you check on Jake? It's a long story, but-"

"I already know," Coyote said gently. "He didn't tell me much, but I can tell it's bad."

"How did you-"

"Juliette texted me last night. Not long after the fight happened, I think. Asked me to check on him."

For the second time in less than an hour, a pang of guilt struck Ghost's heart, much stronger and more brutal this time. Hangman had sent Juliette to check on Ghost immediately after the fight. Meanwhile, Ghost had waited until she couldn't bear the silence of her solitude- 12 hours later- to do the same, even after witnessing the pain in Hangman's eyes. She'd been so selfish in her pain...

"He's doing okay," Coyote continued, "if not a little more broody and quiet. Whatever he's feeling, he's taking it out on the poor punching bag. He's going to Captain America that thing if he keeps at it. How are you doing?"

"Had better days," she admitted, rubbing a stray tear off her cheek. 

"I'm sure. And Ghost, I'm really sorry about your dad. Hangman told me that's why y'all disappeared for a few days."

Another tear rolled down her cheek, and Ghost struggled to keep her voice steady. "Thanks, Javy. It was- it was really unexpected, but I'm glad I had Jake there. I know things went to shit last night, but I'm still glad he was there with me."

"I haven't told anyone else. Figured you'd tell them when you were ready." "I appreciate it. If they ask, you can tell them, but I won't bring it up unless they ask. Not sure how I'd bring it up in normal conversation anyways." 

"I get it," he said. Coyote started to say something else, stopped, then quietly asked, "Do you think y'all can come back from this?"

"I don't know," Ghost said, her voice cracking. "He won't tell me what I need to know so I can at least understand why he did what he did, and I can't figure out why. I keep thinking it's something I did-"

"It's not. That much, I'm positive about. Jake was screwed up after Ghoul's death. I mean, we all were, but he-" Coyote searched for the right words- "he was really messed up from it. I could never figure out how badly, just that it took a good year to get back a semblance of the Jake I knew before it."

"I wish he'd talk to me about it. If it gets the burden of whatever guilt he's carrying off his shoulders-"

"It'll happen. One day, it will."

"Hopefully sooner rather than later. If life's taught me anything lately, it's that you never know what tomorrow will bring, and God forbid something should happen to either of us, I don't want us to be at odds. Even if we come to a mutual agreement to be friendly acquaintances, I'll take that over whatever we are right now."

"I think he would agree. Listen, I should get back, but I'll text you in a bit to check in, okay?"

"All right. And Coyote, I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. I hate the idea of you being in the middle of this."

"Don't worry about it, all right? Worry about me going on my date tonight."

Ghost rocketed upwards. "You have a date?"

"Yeah. A cute girl gave me her number a while ago, and, well, here we are. I'll tell you about it if it goes well. Or I'll call you if I need an escape."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, but I'm here if you need me. I'll talk to you later." Ghost hung up and sighed, a soft smile tugging on her lips at the idea of Coyote going on a date. She was beyond happy for him to be putting himself out there and prayed it turned into something bigger and better for him.

Ghost pushed herself up and went to the living room, taking her phone and charger. She planned on some retail therapy- specifically books- when her gaze drifted to the guitars on her wall, namely, the dark blue one hanging above them all. The oldest, most sentimental in her collection.

Forever and always. 

Forever and always.

Forever and always.

The words echoed repeatedly in her head. Hangman couldn't have meant them. Not truly. Not if he couldn't give her the one kernel of truth she desperately needed to hear. Anger swelled in her chest, and she tugged the guitar down. Setting up her phone, Ghost strummed a few notes, getting into the frame of mind for the song screaming to be sung. Once she memorized the lyrics, Ghost strung the first note, her voice ringing out crystal clear. She started out calmly, keeping her emotions in check, but when she hit the chorus, the dam burst as she sang with her wounded heart: "And I stare at the phone, he still hasn't called, and then you feel so low you can't feel nothing at all, and you flashback to when he said forever and always. Oh, oh, and it rains in your bedroom, everything is wrong. It rains when you're here, and it rains when you're gone. 'Cause I was there when you said forever and always..."

After that, the song came out much more angrily than Ghost intended, but by the end of it, all the bravado and fury had disappeared, and with her voice barely holding together, a fresh wave of tears threatening to hijack her video, Ghost finished softly: "You said forever and always."

She stopped the video and leaned back on her couch, the melody and singing having acted as a sort of catharsis to voice her feelings. Most of her followers hadn't pieced together that her recent postings had been related to her emotions lately because they hadn't for the past few years. Only when Ghost had started the account after Ghoul's death- a coping mechanism for losing both her WSO and Hangman- had the songs been linked to her feelings. Otherwise, all the songs had simply been ones she loved and enjoyed belting out to. Only those who knew Ghost was behind the account would see the shift, understand the significance behind each video, meaning Juliette, Rooster, Jackie, and Wolfie. No one else, not even Coyote, Hangman, the Daggers, or Charlie, knew the account was owned by Ghost, and she intended on keeping it that way. If they did somehow, they kept it a secret from her.

Ghost fiddled with her Naval Academy ring while posting the video. Two familiar people instantly liked it: Princess86 and NotJacobBlack. Also known as Juliette Kazansky and Wolfie. The former left no comment, probably because she would be seeing Ghost later in the day, but the latter commented: Do I need to send wine and ice cream to you? I'd bring it myself, but it's hard being overseas.

Ghost chuckled, liked the comment, and replied: Just wait to bring it when I see you next!

The second she replied to Wolfie, another like came in by QueenJ_5_30. Another second later, the person's name flashed on Ghost's screen, demanding to FaceTime. 

"Hey, Jackie," Ghost answered, setting her guitar aside.

"Spill," Jackie ordered.

Ghost shook her head. "I'd rather not get into it."

"So that heart-wrenching song you just posted has nothing to do with why you wanted me to call?"

"Not in the slightest, actually," Ghost said matter-of-factly. "I need your help with something, and it's going to sound absolutely batshit crazy."

"Dealing with batshit crazy is my specialty, and I could use a distraction. What's up?"

"So, you're really good at finding things that people don't want you to-"

"Yep, it's why I got hired for my job. Why?"

"I need you to look into something for me. I need you to find out exactly when Mom and Dad went on their break before I was born."

"Oh, I can tell you that now. It was late May, early June the year before. Why?"

"I'm not going to ask why you knew that off the top of your head. Give me a sec." Ghost did some calculations in her head and felt the color drain out of her face. "Jackie- oh God, I can't believe I'm asking this right now- do you know if Mom had an affair during that time?"

"I'm sure I could find out, but why? You keep avoiding that question. Why do you need to know this?"

Ghost took a deep breath, forcing herself not to jump to conclusions. Still, Jackie had to understand Ghost's motivations. "Because I learned that when she and Dad went on their break, Mom dated Maverick for those two weeks she was away."

"And?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Ghost simply said, "Jackie, do the math."

The elder Blackwood narrowed her eyes at her little sister, but Ghost could see the gears turning in her head. It didn't take long for Jackie to catch on. "Oh my God. You think- are you-"

"I don't know, and that's what I need your help finding out. I don't want to ask him and stir up trouble without more concrete evidence, and I don't want to ask Mom because we just lost Dad and-"

Jackie held up her hand to cut off her sister and said, "Say no more. I'm on it. Give me a week."

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

[smoments]

✧ part 11: memories of a stranger // a satosugu reincarnation au

chapter 11: one single thread of gold

“Yes, and I think I should have received this point as well…”

Shoko generally excels at keeping her emotions out of academic situations, primarily because she doesn’t actually care much about school. She works hard, sure, but sometimes, when she’s sitting in class and listening to her third professor that day drone on and on about neuroanatomy and its various perspectives and all the too-complicated labels for every little nuance of what should really just be collectively gathered into the brain, she thinks that she wouldn’t be particularly upset if her school spontaneously combusted, preferably with her inside it. If not the entire school (this, after all, would be asking for a lot), then just her classroom would more than suffice. Unfortunately, the remaining fragment of self-preservation she possesses prevents her from advocating for such a thing, and perhaps also her morals (if slightly less so). 

Even so, morals are currently taking a backseat to the annoyance bubbling up inside her at the insufferability of her teacher. Actually, maybe it isn’t the teacher’s fault, but she has better things to do than argue for a few points on a test, even if her grade is hanging on for dear life.

God, it was stressful dealing with idiots.

After successfully debating (arguing) her way into a better grade, Shoko gets Satoru’s text on her way to her community service club - this is unfortunately located across campus and consists of less community service and more socializing while discussing the importance of community service, the latter of which suits her just fine - and wrinkles her nose in confusion.

“Wouldn’t him fumbling be bad enough without the additional beating?” She mutters dryly, wondering who Satoru thinks he’s fooling with the world platonic. How do you platonically fumble someone?  

dw you won’t.

Shoko pauses, unsure as to whether she’s giving him too much credit, and decides to throw in something to cushion her fall in case Satoru does screw things up and then tries to blame it on her. 

probably. idk tho

She tilts her head curiously when a call from Utahime comes in, stepping aside to answer and nearly bumping into four different people. Campus is rather crowded at this time of day, even with her slight holdup after class - of course, Satoru was lucky enough to be off all afternoon. Hopefully he’s making the most of their time together, especially because she’s pretty sure Suguru did have somewhere to be today.

“Shoko! A… friend and I booked appointments at this spa nearby, but they cancelled on me last minute, and it’s a nonrefundable reservation!” 

“Oh? Who?”

“...my friend! You don’t know them.”

Shoko stifles a giggle. Utahime has always been a subpar liar.

“You don’t have any other friends. Unless you asked one of the guys to go to a spa with you? I’m sure Nanami would very much appreciate it.” 

“Ugh, Shoko, you sound just like them right now! Don’t do this. Just meet me there in an hour.”

“Fine. But I’m paying you back. And you know, if you’d just asked me, I would’ve come along peacefully.”

“Like hell you would’ve! Anyways, hurry up and- Ahh! They have mini jade rollers, Shoko! How cute!” 

On second thought, Shoko hadn’t really wanted to go to her club anyway. 

Besides, her being in a good mood is practically community service all on its own. 

-

Satoru shifts slightly from where he’s lounging on the couch, wondering vaguely what’s taking Suguru so long in the bathroom. He wouldn’t blame him if he’d grown tired after hours of stagnancy; sitting in one spot for so long took quite the mental toll on a person, which was a concept that the school system did not seem to understand.

He knows that he, for one, is completely exhausted. His scant few hours of sleep is finally catching up to him, and though it’s nearly time for lunch by now - his mind travels to potential meal ideas when he realizes this, and he wrinkles his nose at the idea of trying to scrape something edible together from the few items he currently has in his fridge - he wants nothing more than to sprawl out on his admittedly average bed and have a good, long sleep to make up for his early rising. 

But he doesn’t let himself entertain this idea for too long, since he doesn’t want to waste any time with Suguru in his dorm.

That sounds bad. His intentions are innocent, though!

Regardless, if Suguru really is taking a breather in the bathroom, he feels a pang of guilt at the idea that he wouldn’t have thought to simply ask him for a break. Surely he knows that Satoru wouldn’t care! Does he really think him that insensitive? He might be rude sometimes, but he’s not heartless. 

When did Satoru start worrying so much about what other people did or thought, anyway? Wasn’t he the type to take everything in stride, letting everyone else act freely in the hopes that they’d step back and allow him to do the same? 

He grumbles as his eyelids grow heavy and he rolls over once again, his cheek pressing into the plush cushion that rests beneath his skin.

Has his couch always been this comfortable?

He’s sure it hasn’t. Isn’t. But he feels so warm suddenly, a sense of comfort encircling him like a down blanket. He’s barely hanging on to consciousness, haven given up fighting sleep and instead letting it brush over his eyelids, easing them shut. 

It won’t be for long; just a couple minutes of rest, and then he’ll be full of renewed energy that he’ll be able to throw into his art. 

He’s a light enough sleeper that any movement will probably awaken him, anyways.

And Suguru might still be a while.

This is the last coherent thought that Satoru recalls putting together before he slips fully into unconsciousness.

He wishes it had ended there. Unconsciousness was not such an unpleasant place to exist. It turned out that dreams could be far, far worse. 

He’d thought he was over it.

He’d thought that horribly gut-wrenching dream from last night was finished and done with, that he would never have to recall its exact occurrences in such a high level of detail again. He didn’t imagine for a second when he shut his eyes that it would all come back to him while he was in his most vulnerable state, or he would have forced himself to stay awake until it killed him.

The last thing Satoru expects to see when he finally tears himself from sleep is Suguru standing over him, something like worry creasing the smooth surface of his face. He’s still mid-panic, still in a state of attempting to gather his bearings. Horror seizes him as he zeroes in on a specific detail that would have been minute at any other time, in any other place. 

It’s Suguru’s long, dark hair - down around his shoulders. 

Down like it was when Satoru killed him. 

And is Suguru’s silhouette swimming in his vision now, or is he just imagining it? Is the red armchair directly behind him blending into Suguru’s face and painting half of it bloody, or are his eyes playing tricks on him? That look on his face- does he suddenly appear so incredibly hurt, like Satoru has somehow wounded him beyond belief without meaning to, or is it just him? Is he moving, even, or is he just standing there silently? Standing at all? Is he a corpse? An apparition?

Satoru tries to pull himself together. He does his best to twist his expression into one of calm, despite the fact that he hasn’t yet caught his breath and he’s growing dizzier with every second he stares into Suguru’s eyes and attempts to discern whether he’s still breathing. When he finally manages to speak, it comes out strangled, forced.

“Y-your hair is down.”

Suguru’s face flushes. And maybe Satoru should be wondering what he could possibly be so embarrassed about, but he’s so busy admiring the indisputable sign of life coloring his cheeks that he cannot bring himself to consider what seems like an insignificant detail in comparison. 

“Yeah. It wasn’t cooperating too well today. Look, Satoru, I shouldn’t have-“

The sound of liquid bubbling over from the kitchen cuts Suguru off, and his head snaps toward the entrance, the guilty look in his eyes fading temporarily in favor of confusion. 

He hurries into the adjacent room while Satoru sits up and rubs his eyes, his heart rate slowly settling. 

He must be losing it. 

He’s never been this unstable in his life. It’s easy to make such a criticism now, of course, when he’s in a calmer state of mind.

When he can think clearly. 

Still, given this second of reprieve, the remaining shred of his sanity manages to come up with a single, perfectly formed decision:

He will not tell Suguru about this. 

He’d been lucky to get a neutral response from him the first time around, given that a random person somehow possessing a sketchbook full of painstakingly crafted images of him would have thrown him off at best, and creeped him out at worst. But this? ‘Hey, I had a dream where I killed you, but I don’t know if it was a dream so much as a premonition? Or maybe it’s happened already, but in a different reality? Well, we better hope it wasn’t foreshadowing anything, huh? Haha.’

Absolutely not. 

“Satoru! Did you put milk in this!?”

An exasperated voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He glances towards the entrance and nearly laughs when he sees Suguru standing there with a hand on his waist, brandishing what looks like his (broken) tea kettle threateningly.

“Yeah. What, was I supposed to drink the coffee black?”

“I practically do this for a living, you know! You could’ve just asked me. What will we do now? And when you’re so tired, too. Coffee would have been the perfect pick-me-up...”

Suguru purses his lips disapprovingly, which only heightens Satoru’s amusement. Perhaps they’re both a little unstable, if Suguru’s having a breakdown over a kitchen appliance. He feels his shoulders relaxing, and his mouth curls into a grin.

“I can’t have my guests working, Suguru! Don’t worry about it. I never used that thing anyway.” 

“That isn’t really the issue here…”

A shadow passes over his face as he speaks, and his expression drops once again, as though he’s just recalled something important. Satoru eases himself off the couch, planting a reassuring hand on Suguru’s shoulder as he strolls past him and into the kitchen to survey the extent of the mess. He thinks he feels Suguru flinch at his touch, and the crease in his brow deepens. Is he truly that worried about the coffee? Perhaps it was expensive. 

The counter is surprisingly impeccable; he’d expected much worse, in all honesty, given Suguru’s slightly disproportionate reaction, and he brushes his hands off casually after disposing of the napkins he used to wipe up the spill. 

“See? Don’t worry so much, Suguru.”

Suguru gives him a tight smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes - Satoru would know, because he’s spent what feels like years taking in every smile. He frowns.

“Uh… Should I make more coffee?” He offers in a voice that admittedly sounded more enticing in his head. 

“Please don’t.”

Suguru cracks a small grin, then, and the warmth of it makes Satoru almost dizzy with relief. 

Because although he can’t deny the inexplicable hold that these visions - these dreams - have over him, there is little to support that they are anything besides horrific amalgamations of his worst fears. 

He’d wanted, at first, to believe that he and Suguru had known each other in another lifetime - it was such a pretty concept, an invisible string to tie them together regardless of the circumstances. It no longer mattered what difficulties might befall them, because they were simply fated, and so life would bring them back together. 

But when innocent emotions and a soft, hazy sense of familiarity sharpened into memories that Satoru was sure he wouldn’t have wanted to live out in the first place, let alone recall, it lowered his inclination to place faith in what suddenly seemed so incomplete, so groundless. He began to balk at the thought that his mind knew something he didn’t, and that once-comforting notion quickly turned into one that terrified him. 

And the string became something like a tightrope, a sequence of events into which they were fated to fall over and over. 

It became something with the potential to pull them apart.  

-

The portrait is finished in nine days: it’s practically a record for Satoru, not that he’s counted until now. Even so, it’s plain to see that it’s one of his best works. That isn’t just him being self-obsessed; everyone’s told him so, including his teacher, who was initially reluctant to grant him an extension but immediately changed her tune when he submitted the final project. 

It’s Suguru, of course - he’s cast in bright, morning sunlight and stood in front of a tranquil lake that glitters in streaks; places where it’s blanketed in beams of light. His expression is soft, his gaze directed towards the surface of the water, which reflects his surroundings - the treetops, their leaves pale and hazy, the little yellow and blue forget-me-nots that dot the shoreline, and his own silhouette. Gentle ripples tug at the edges of his figure, blending all of his colors together and turning them into barely defined puddles of paint. Beyond the scenery but also reflected in the lake, so translucent they’re barely visible, lay frozen scenes taken from Satoru’s memory (scenes that are meant to represent the course of a person’s life, he’ll explain to anyone who asks) - Suguru laughing, his expression open and free, a golden tint to his face - him facing dead forward, face cold and unreadable - (this one is placed farther away from the silhouette itself, on the outskirts of the water) - Suguru against a brick wall, his face bloodied. This was a smile that he would have preferred to exclude, but it haunted him persistently until he put it down on paper. To make up for it, he’d painted in another - a genuine, attentive beam that made him blush every time he laid his eyes on it. And, of course, one self-indulgent image of the two of them together on a bicycle, the bright blue of the sky barely distinguishable from the water itself. 

It was a painting that would have been beautiful even if the subject was not. Even if the subject were somebody entirely different. But to Satoru, Suguru was the painting. It was why he needed him there, solid and moving and directly in front of him, when he began. It wasn’t like he needed to see Suguru’s face to remember what it looked like; it was simply that his presence was the inspiration Satoru needed to understand what he wanted to convey. To him, this painting was not a shallow depiction of a face. He wanted to capture the essence of the person in it, to encompass all of Suguru’s various sides and sharper corners and breathtaking smiles in a single image. 

And he thinks he has succeeded, because when he looks at it, he can almost catch a glimmer of movement from the corner of his eye in the ripples at the lake’s surface; he can almost feel the wind in the trees, can almost get so lost staring that a wave of indescribable loss and longing surges through his windpipe, threatening to swallow him completely. Longing for what, he has no idea; Suguru is right by his side, after all. 

He doesn’t know whether it’s the kind of thing that others can see, too, if his execution was a success. Even if it was, even if it does procure the same kind of emotion in others as it does within him, he can’t imagine anyone else feeling so strongly about it - about Suguru. Not because he doesn’t think him lovable, but because to Satoru, he is overwhelmingly, incredibly so. 

He turns to him now. They are standing side by side in front of the finished artwork - Suguru’s first look. Satoru feels like he could die, he’s so nervous, and he’s not even entirely sure why. It’s been silent for many seconds too long. 

He’s just taking it in. Stop being so impatient. Did you expect him to jump for joy the second he saw himself? Even you wouldn’t do that. 

Finally, when he thinks he can’t take another second of quiet, Suguru speaks, his voice soft.

Has he been wearing his hair differently these days? Something looks off about it. There is something out of place in his movements as he turns halfway to face Satoru, a sense of transience that Satoru cannot quite pinpoint.  

“It’s… beautiful, Satoru. Absolutely stunning. You’ve outdone yourself, as usual.”

[moodymisty]

Tech Projects

Author's Note: I honestly don't think I want season 2, because I'm pretty sure the minute I see Tech on screen I'll spontaneously combust.

Summary: It's always fun to watch Tech futz over his projects, even if you didn't quite understand how they all worked.

Relationships: Tech/GN!Reader

Warnings: None, just some tooth rotting fluff, and Tech supremacy

Word count: 1659

AO3 Link

Even with as many holodramas you’d watched, Tech working was by far more entertaining than the lot of them. Never would you have thought that watching Tech fix scanners and hyperdrives would be so, enthralling.

Maybe it was that new relationship bliss; Though you’d always found it enjoyable even before you’d managed that sloppy deceleration of feelings.

But you’d been wholly surprised when Tech had reciprocated, saying he’d felt the same, but had just assumed you would never like him that way. He’d found the likelihood of you being with a clone quite statistically small, and even if you did, figured you would go for someone more like Hunter.

You’d quite quickly refuted that notion, only having to tear your face away from his when Wrecker had crashed in moments later needing something fixed.

While Wrecker had been none the wiser at that time, it took only a few days for the rest of the batch to quite quickly catch on to what was happening. You’d never truly said anything, but it was just silently known. It didn’t help that both of you were absolutely the worst at keeping secrets, compounded only by the fact that someone else on the ship had beyond incredible hearing. There really wasn’t much of a chance of keeping it secret to begin with, given Hunter. If your quiet conversations didn’t prick his ears and cue him in, you constantly smelling like Tech would’ve.

At first you had both tried to pretend you weren’t romantic, but it was only a few days before Tech had absentmindedly kissed you on the cheek before leaving the ship for supplies and that whole attempt at a charade was instantly over.

But even before all of that, you’d always found watching Tech work-and by extension listening to his voice, incredibly enticing. His fingers were deft and able to fit in each nook and cranny, control panel or datapad, knowing exactly each and every movement to make and doing it with absolutely zero error. And during each motion he would always talk to himself, or as time had gone on and he’d gotten used to you hovering over or beside his shoulder, to you. Gods, you had a massive thing for nerds.

“So, what is it you're making this for again exactly?” Tech sighed, eyes glancing to the right towards you for only a second. “Have you already forgotten?” “Maybe?” Tech turned to fully face you before once again going back to his project. Reaching his right hand outward and taking one of the small screws from your cupped hand-he didn’t have anything that could hold them so they didn’t roll away-he sighed and pushed his goggles up with one finger. “Truly, we need to work on that memory of yours…” You just smiled and laughed, sounding incredibly pleased with yourself as Tech began re-explaining the intricacies of what he was working on. From overhearing him you’d learned a decent bit of the tidbits for Tech’s various works, but most of the actual technicals were still far out of your league. Tech still explained anyways, more so trying to give an overview then explain each individual function. As much as he would’ve wanted to. You wouldn’t have minded, his even-toned voice soothing away your stresses. You all certainly had a lot of them. But unbeknownst to both of you, Hunter was leaning against the wall between where you both were sitting and the cockpit, looking away from the scene playing out near him and rolling his eyes. In the very few holodramas episodes Hunter had ever seen, he hadn’t quite understood why people were so exasperated by other couples showing affection. Now he realized why people rolled their eyes and gagged at love-struck pairs.

You were staring at Tech like he was both the light of your life, and the most delicious piece of meat.

And as usual, Tech was absolutely none the wiser.

Hunter decided he was sick of watching this play out, walking over only to give Tech a large smack to the back of the head just as you’d opened your mouth. His head careened forward and he jolted in his seat, letting out a surprised noise. When he righted himself, he turned to look over his shoulder at Hunter and scowled. “And what was that for?” Hunter pointed in your direction, causing your eyes to widen as you were now suddenly under the spotlight. “Stop being an idiot, Tech.” Before he had a chance to elaborate, if he was even going to, Omega scowled at the scene in front of her. She must’ve heard something and came and saw Hunter give Tech a good clap at the perfect moment. “Hunter! Don’t just hit people!” Omega furrowed her brow, and continued to as Hunter spoke and ushered her away with him; A hand on her shoulder. “Believe me, I was helping him. You’ll understand later.” Wrecker could keep her distracted, and he wouldn’t have to explain why Tech had needed the smack in the first place. Hunter had enough issues to deal with, he didn’t need to delve into that sarlacc pit.

With Hunter now gone however, Tech spoke up again after adjusting his goggles.

“You were, going to say something?” He was looking right at you now, Hunter’s knock having given him the realization that you were smiling quite wide; And were quite close to him before you’d moved away to watch Hunter leave for the cockpit.

For all of Tech’s talk of ‘chemical reactions’ and ‘natural behaviors’, he hadn’t really realized how they actually felt. And how they overtook, at least in Tech’s case, almost all of your mind.

Tech had this to finish, yes; He’d been planning the schematics for it for days now, fussing over each and every wire and circuit to fit his exact specifications...

But when were you going to lean back against his shoulder?

“I was going to say you just look so handsome when you’re all,” You couldn’t find the right word, and just wildly gestured to his project, and himself. Hopefully it got the point across. Tech was bashful, but hid it well enough behind an attempt at his usual neutral and calculated expression and tinted goggles. They couldn’t hide the heat against his cheeks and neck, however. “When working on a project?” You shrugged. “Yeah, anything really; All the, sciencey stuff.” Tech couldn’t help the chuckle at ‘sciencey’. “And is that why you keep making me repeat everything?” Now it was your turn to laugh, brushing some hair from your face with a free hand. “Maybe.” “You could simply ask, I have no issue with one sided conversation; provided you find it pleasing.” Pursing your lips you faked contemplation, while scooting closer to him. “I could, but I think it’s funnier when you get all exasperated.” Tech tapped his tool against the counter and sighed. “Of course you think that. It seems I was incorrect in thinking you would be above pestering me.” Tech glanced towards the opposite corner of the table from him. “The thicker wire, please.” He had a small smile on his face, only fading when you handed him the small bundle of wiring and he got re-invested in his work.

“It’s probably just Wrecker rubbing off on me too much. Or maybe I just really enjoy it.” Taking another screw from your hand Tech used his feet to scoot the seat he was on closer. Getting a more clear look at the small areas he was working on, you moved closer as well; Tech unphased and even somewhat enjoying the feeling of your hovering around his side watching.

Meanwhile Echo, currently in the pilot’s seat during Tech’s temporary absence, leaned his elbow on the seat’s arm to look around at Hunter. He’d come in here and was now leaning against the wall behind the co-pilot’s seat, watching the area outside through the main viewport. The sun was beginning to set; Hunter would take a quick lap around the area they’d landed to check for anything out of the ordinary once they were fully down. Echo was the first one to break the silence, rolling his eyes.

“Do you think he’s done with that junk yet? I seriously need help fixing the boiler before we’re stuck taking ice showers and not just cold ones.” Wrecker groaned at that aspect, having stopped throwing his helmet in the air mindlessly while Omega tried to catch it. Hunter shook his head at Echo.

“Don’t bother; Those two are too busy nerding it up and fawning all over each other.”

Tech didn't look away from his hands for a moment, speaking up in response to them complaining.

“We can hear you, you know.” The others failed to answer back, but it was quite easy for you to hear them still grumbling. Tech had not a care beyond that initial comment, and continued working shortly thereafter.

Looking to do something else but not having enough hands to do so, Tech handed you a spare set of gloves, before gesturing to the table.

“Hold those wires in place, please? Those ones go on t-.” You rolled your eyes and moved to keep the exposed parts of each wire touching the correct portions.

“These are output wires and these are input. This is easy stuff, Tech.” He glanced over your hands and saw nothing wrong. He was however, getting an odd feeling in his chest after realizing you'd been paying attention to what he was saying all this time.

“It doesn’t hurt to review the basics.” Leaned to the side Tech pressed a kiss to your temple, before looking down and moving to grab the soldering iron.

Unable to not overhear the two of you Hunter groaned, and you could hear his head bump against the wall from where he was in the cockpit. To think, at first he'd been happy Tech had found someone.

“Get me off of this ship...”

[candidapple]

Vaguely horny thoughts but Twst is just so good for ships and polyships 😋 How do you feel about Floyd x Riddle x Yuu/MC/Player? FloRid has that fun chaotic ‘opposites attract’ energy with MC being the middle ground that helps balance it all out. Riddle could certainly use some stress relief (wink wink hue hue) and I think Floyd would probably spontaneously combust in a burst of horny joy if he got both his Little Shrimpy and Goldfishie in the same bed 🦈🦞🌹

cw adult content. minors dni 🔞

floyd leech x riddle rosehearts x afab!reader

it takes some doing, but once floyd's set his mind on something -- or someone, as the case may be -- he's nothing if not terrifyingly persistent (emphasis on terrifying: when you first saw him bearing down on you like a shrimp-seeking missile on a mission to ask you out, roughly shoving aside anyone who wasn't smart enough to get out of the way, you understandably assumed he was there to squeeze the living daylights out of you).

riddle's a harder sell, acting coldly toward you and even shorter than usual with floyd once word of your nascent relationship begins to spread through nrc's perennially ripe grapevine, but it bears repeating: floyd is, at his core, a persistence predator.

you don't know how he manages it, but one day you're brooding over riddle's frosty attitude; the next, the three of you are eating lunch together while riddle tries very hard to be a gentleman and not stare at the moue your mouth makes around the base of your fork. he even allows floyd to sling a familiar arm around his slim shoulders for five whole seconds before snapping at him to keep his hands to himself. (floyd does not keep his hands to himself.)

the first time floyd grabs riddle by the necktie and kisses him in front of you, you're not even surprised. though you are a little concerned when a dangerously red-faced riddle reacts to this new development by choking on his own spit.

and when floyd finally coaxes both his shrimpy and his goldfishie into bed... yeah, i think "spontaneously combusting in a burst of horny joy" just about sums it up. poor guy hardly knows what to do with himself; it's a wonder he doesn't cream his shorts on the spot, he's so excited. he can't decide who to pounce on first, so he compromises by crushing you both to the mattress and -- well, "slobbering all over your faces" isn't the most romantic way of phrasing it, but it's certainly the most accurate. you don't even want to call it a kiss, the way he licks a sloppy line from your mouth to riddle's chin, but just because it's messy doesn't mean it doesn't turn you on. floyd's weight above you, the way riddle flushes red all the way down to his chest under floyd's hungry tongue, their legs tangling up with yours -- all that turns you on, too.

you are grateful that riddle's here with you, and not just because you like him every bit as much as you like floyd. you don't know if you could handle floyd on your own; without someone else around to pump the breaks, you think you just might let him sweep you away like the ocean's current and do whatever he wanted to you. but riddle, it turns out, can be just as bossy in bed as he is in day-to-day life, and he has no compunctions whatsoever about giving floyd a firm smack when he squeezes you too tight or bites you too hard. floyd doesn't seem to mind a little tough love, either. far from it. the first time riddle slaps him lightly across the face, leaving a palm-shaped mark as red as roses behind, floyd's pupils gape till you can't glimpse a sliver of brown or gold, his breath deepening to a hoarse pant.

but if riddle's firm with floyd, he's almost always soft with you, deferring to your wants when you press him gently back against the mattress and mount his smooth hips. it's your favorite position: taking riddle inside you and watching him flush and squirm while you squeeze him strangling tight, floyd straddling riddle's thighs behind you to fuck your other hole with his long, lovely dick.

your other favorite position is on your back, riddle stretching out between your splayed legs to fuck you while floyd fucks him. their combined weight on top of you is delicious, and you always end up mauling both their backs with your nails, not that they mind. whatever the position, your time together always ends the same: the three of you tangled in a sweaty heap, floyd peppering your and riddle's faces with slobbery puppy kisses.

you're happier than you've ever been since you fell into twisted wonderland. almost everyone you know, however, reacts to... whatever's going on between the three of you with varying degrees of shock and horror, even going so far as to convince themselves that floyd must be blackmailing you and riddle with compromising materials unknown. only jade takes it in stride, smiling politely and wishing the three of you well. you take one look at that oddly chilling smile and remind yourself never to break floyd's heart.

as for everyone else: they get over it, eventually. you think they might have just grown desensitized to it the way one might grow desensitized to violence and gore after watching enough horror movies. so it goes.

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

I cannot stress enough, from the bottom of my fucking heart, that life is too goddamned short to be out here buying shitty potato peelers that hurt your hands and don’t really work that great for $5 when $10 will get you a sturdy, comfortable, very effective one.

Just in general, if there is something you’re out here using on a very regular basis, especially if it’s for a chore or task you already don’t like that much, it’s 100% worth it to get the “nice” version.  If you’re broke, it’s something you can ask for as a birthday/holiday/just-because gift from loved ones who aren’t broke.

Like, you know how Disney parks have what they call “touch points,” where if it’s something guests are interacting with in a big way, they want it to be as nice as possible to give guests a really good impression?  That is in fact a thing that works.  It can in fact make your life better, or worse.

I know sometimes it can feel dumb to spend the extra money, effort, or time to get the good version because no version of this tool exists that’s going to make it fun or awesome to peel potatoes or clean the litter box or mop the living room.  Unfortunately, it is not dumb and will in fact improve your life.

I know most people don’t think of it in terms of “Oh, ha ha, it’s not worth spending the extra $5 to get a good kitty litter scoop.  I’d rather use that five bucks on a single fancy cup of coffee on the way to work and spend every day for the foreseeable future fighting with this flimsy piece of garbage that can barely stand up to the job and that I have to handle just so or it will snap in half on me.” Unfortunately, that’s about what it boils down to in actual practice. 

Also unfortunately, it’s unbelievable how much mental energy is sapped by being surrounded by stuff you hate using because it’s the cheapest version of the thing that wouldn’t spontaneously combust when you touched it, or it’s busted but not completely busted yet, or it doesn’t work great but it hasn’t absolutely fallen the fuck apart on you.

Plus I think we’ve all got that socks-and-underwear-giving relative who’d be like “Finally, my time has come!” if you asked them for a sensible gift like non-scratchy towels or nice sheets, so you’re making your life materially better and also letting them fulfill some weird primal nesting instinct by proxy.

[randompoetemogirl]

I’m writing this because I just had the biggest “Oh shit,” moment of my life and I want to make other people aware of something they might have.

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve daydreamed. I was usually the main character. These daydreams would either happen when I was on the swings or when I would repeatedly rock back and forth on the couch. As I got a bit older, I would daydream while I listened to music. Cue freshman year of highschool and I am listening to music, rocking back and forth on my couch, while daydreaming just about everyday. If I had free time in school, I would daydream. During sophomore year, it got intense. It was already hard for me to focus the year prior, but it just became harder.

Cue to junior year and I literally cannot focus on shit. I do fine in school, but once I leave school I literally don’t want to do anything and when I TRY to do something I lose all motivation. It’s gotten to the point where I’ll daydream in class if it gets too boring. At the moment, no one has noticed how much I daydream.

During the day when I’m at home, I put one earbud in and rock on the couch to get into this daydreaming zone. One time, my mom caught me doing it on the small camera we have in our kitchen and sent me a text telling me to stop. She hasn’t brought it up since. So now, I only rock upstairs and listen out for anyone coming. At night, when I’m in bed, I shove in both earbuds and rock in my bed. It has gotten to the point where I will stay up for 2-4 hours longer than I should just to keep daydreaming.

My grades are decent, not failing, but could be way better. Since my older brother(who moved out and has a family of his own) has ADHD, my younger brother has autism, and my little sister is only two, I didn’t want to freak my parents out over nothing. I was sure I was just being lazy.

Then I realized I might have ADHD/ADD/autism. I already figured I had depression through the train wreck my brain has been and the fact that I’m still trying to convince myself that I’m worthy of being alive. So finally, just now, I looked up why I constantly rock back and forth when I listen to music and daydream. I got lead onto Quora where someone had the same issue and someone else suggested maladaptive daydreaming

I looked it up, and just…spontaneously combusted.

I discovered that maladaptive daydreaming can happen to those who wish to escape reality because of the stress of their everyday life.

Check.

Sleep deprivation often happens because people want to daydream more.

Check.

Maladaptive daydreaming can disrupt a persons social life and how well they can focus.

Check.

People who maladaptive daydream often walk, jog, rock, or listen to music to get in “the zone”.

Effing check.

This can correlate with having anxiety or ADHD, both of which I may have. So yeah, take it from a teenage girl in her bed right now. If something’s wrong, please don’t assume you’re just being lazy. There can often be underlining problems we just don’t realize.

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

Okay I 100% agree on the “general public with no clinical experience or proper legal licensing shouldn’t try to raise or rehab wildlife” thing but I will say there is a little more nuance to it

- country/location: in some people’s countries or regions wildlife rehabilitation centers don’t exist or are too far away to reach

- closures (my facility closed intakes due to HPAI for a period last year, many others did too)

I spoke with someone last year who was in the latter situation and handled it excellently. She had found a baby magpie who’s family had been killed by a local outdoor cat (with evidence). All of the rehabbers in the region (very broad radius) were closed due to HPAI. She contacted her region’s (utah) department of natural resources and explained the situation. She had previous experience raising baby parrots, already had a household setup for keeping birds since she had a couple pet parrots, and she was in contact with the (closed) rehabilitation facilities and one of them was willing to provide her with instructions on how to raise a baby magpie. The department of natural resources worked with her to issue a special permit for this. Obviously this isn’t ideal and the magpie is an imprint, however he will serve as an educational ambassador. Like, if you’re going to raise a baby animal without proper experience, this is the best reason and way to go about it.

I also spoke with someone from Ukraine, who had found a hawk (injured in some way, I couldn’t visually tell) but wasn’t able to get it to a rehab facility (either not open or safely accessible cus,, well it’s a warzone) so they were stuck by themselves. Not sure how this worked out, but the situation was perplexing.

Like.. there are some situations where it is genuinely not possible to get an injured animal into an ideal situation. Obviously this isn’t most situations and people need to learn to leave wildlife alone. But there is a little nuance. Obviously it’s NOT ideal and it’s risky for both the person and animal in question but like. Not everyone who is stuck in that situation should be demonized.

I agree with your sentiment but just think it’s important to remember like. Not everyone lives in a well developed country/region where wildlife rehabilitation resources exist. So sometimes if this situation occurs the best thing to do is offer in good faith advice to the person in that situation for what they can do with their resources. Obviously stressing that if they can get em to a rehabber to do that first.

Of course there are many things the average person or anyone else just can’t help, I’m all too familiar with finding a long dead bone jutting out the wrist of a hawk, or pulling maggots out of a half dead owl. And most people wouldn’t handle those situations well. But with situations where a rehabber can’t be reached but something can be done, people will try to do something to help even if it’s a bad idea (that’s just how some people are) and it’s better to direct them to do it in the best way possible.

I agree with you don’t get me wrong, I just think it’s important to remember that there’s a TINY space for nuance.

None of this is really “nuance” though.

The magpie finder contacted fish and game as well as the closed rehabs for proper input and a placement for the imprint was easy to find because of close contact with licensed individuals and issuance of a temp permit for this 1/1,000,000 issue.

I am very obviously not talking about people in active war zones when I say not to take in a wild animal that’s been wounded or orphaned, come on now.

Yes, if every rehabber in a 10,000 mile radius spontaneously combusts and there’s a baby owl sitting on the dead bodies of its parents right in front of you but you conveniently have a freezer full of mice and Government Steve gives you permission, yeah? I guess you can raise that baby owl in that wildly improbable and very specific circumstance, but this reads the same as when Ben Shapiro said “if there’s a bomb strong enough to level a city and only you know about the bomb and no one else believes there is a bomb and no one is around and the only way the bomb can be disarmed is for you to say the N word and no one will hear you, is it ethical to say the N word to diffuse the bomb?” I mean yeah. I guess so. That doesn’t mean there’s “nuance” to the fact white people shouldn’t say the N word.

I mean yeah. Yeah. In very extremely specific circumstances I’m sure you can think up an excuse for it. That doesn’t change the statement that an unqualified member of the public should not attempt to rehab a wild animal and should instead contact a licensed facility.