#i think its cause shes gotten so attached to my dad to the point where his morals and opinions on ppl are now also hers

[roaringheat]

Trying not to jump the gun and expect today to be shit but it's my sister's bday and i'll have to spend the whole day around her and our dad who both treat me like shit

[angelsanarchy]

Alone Together - Eddie/OC One-Shot Series PRT 14 Prt 1 - Prt 2 - Prt 3 - Prt 4 - Prt 5 - Prt 6 - Prt 7 - Prt 8 - Prt 9 - Prt 10 - Prt 11 - Prt 12 - Prt 13

taglist:

@thetenthdoctorscompanion @siriuslymooned @samwilsonns

"Okay so this one is actually pretty sick. I want to paint that on my van." Eddie was currently hovering over my notepad as I drew a puppet master tattoo for Eddie. Once his uncle had seen the huge piece I drew on his chest, he freaked out. He applauded my work but asked that I please draw him something a little smaller and not so colorful.

"I'm trying to decide if he needs some red hues, really give him that hellish pop." Eddie's ringed finger ran over edges of the drawing to show where he thought it would be best to put the red and I started off slow.

"Oh that's the one baby! That's perfect." He clapped his hands together shifting his chair closer to mind. The chairs at the table started filling around us and I tried not to let Eddie keep me too lost in this sketch because I didn't want to be rude to everyone else but it was Dustin and Mike who plopped down heavily shaking the table.

"Whoa! Relax! We're working on something here!" Eddie threw his arms out and Dustin offered a silent apology.

"What are you drawing?" Dustin asked squinting at the sketchpad. I turned it around for him to see and he nodded.

"Wow that's badass." Mike looked impressed.

"I'm going to get it tattooed on Thursday. It's going right here." Eddie tapped the back of his arm.

"You let Dani draw you a tattoo...for your body?" Mike seemed shocked.

"Are you questioning my artistic abilities?" I challenged playfully.

"Not at all but that's like...a very permanent thing." Mike pointed out making Eddie snort a laugh.

"Yeah Wheeler that's kind of the point of a tattoo." Eddie shifted in his chair and had his arm around the back of mine, almost protective, I gave his knee a small squeeze reminding him to be nice.

"I mean it just seems pretty intimate." Dustin slapped the back of his hand on Mike's chest. Eddie and I looked at each other.

"What? You know I think you're awesome! It just seems like such an intense thing to get. It's like a soul binding-" Mike was cut off by Dustin.

"If there are two people who are practically attached at the hip, it would be Dani and Eddie." Dustin added quickly making me chuckle.

"You know people can have tattoos removed right? Covered even." Gareth pointed out from next to me. I sat back in my chair taking in this new topic of conversation.

"No way man. I hear having them removed is like burning the skin off your body." Carl scrunched his nose and Mike got a chill.

"I think its an awesome idea. I mean Dani's practically designed our entire party. Why wouldn't he want one of her pieces on him?" Jeff spoke up and Mike held up his hands.

"I mean they're definitely a step up from some of the others he's gotten." Jeff added making Gareth almost spit across the table.

"You guys are assholes. Why do I even subject myself to this kind of abuse?" Eddie shook his head.

"Don't be so dramatic, Munson. Now the tattoo on your chest, that's what I'd call abuse." Dustin's mouth dropped open and Eddie smirked at me for ribbing him.

"She makes a point." Carl added causing the rest of the table to laugh.

"Screw you guys. I'm getting another drink." Eddie stood up and put a hand on my back making me look up at him. He was silently asking if I wanted anything and I shook my head, watching him head towards the soda machines.

"My girlfriend has a tattoo. It's small but I always wonder if maybe she'll cover it when we get old enough." Mike pushed the food around on his plate.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend. What's her name?" I smiled making him look up.

"Oh um her name is El. She moved last year but we're making it work long distance. We used to talk on the phone all the time but now we write each other letters." He explained with a weak smile.

"Same here. Me and my Suzie are going strong for almost a year now. Long distance is tough but we stay in constant contact. Doesn't help that her dad hates me." Dustin said looking annoyed.

"Why does her dad hate you?" I chuckled feeling bad for him.

"Her dad doesn't hate you. He just doesn't like that you're Agnostic which is pretty stupid." Mike reminded Dustin who shrugged.

"That's really cool that you've both found two people that you love enough to make it work from a distance. That's real love right there." Mike blushed but Dustin smiled proudly.

"Okay what did I miss? Why is Wheeler's face a stop sign and Henderson smiling like an idiot?" Eddie plopped down heavily in the chair next to me sliding a bag of skittles towards me and opening his mountain dew.

"Dani was commending the Freshman's about finding love that knows no distance or bounds." Gareth tipped his drink at Mike and Dustin who laughed.

"...with each other or-" Eddie questioned as both boys exclaimed a loud no.

"Dustin has a girlfriend named Suzie who sounds lovely but has to deal with being star-crossed as her father does not approve of his religious beliefs, which I agree with Mike. That shit is stupid." Dani explained, catching Eddie up.

"And Mike's girlfriend just moved but they write letters to one another, which is super romantic by the way. There's something really sweet about sitting down and handwriting a letter to someone imagining them sitting somewhere and reading it with a smile on their face, thinking of you." Mike finally let himself smile without blushing.

"Handwritten letters do it for ya? No bed of roses or candle lit dinners on a boat?" Eddie teased as I sat back in my chair, his body facing towards me.

"I'm fairly simple. I don't particularly like roses and I can't swim so anything on the water isn't ideal. Showing that your happiness can come from making me happy is what I like. I want effort, I want romance that shows actual character and forethought. Doing a bunch of cheesy things you copped from a John Hughes movie isn't romantic. It's predictable." I sat back and noticed how intently he was listening to me rant.

"So romance is a case to case basis is what I'm hearing." Mike chimed in.

"Exactly. Something sweet El likes might not be anywhere close to what Suzie would like. Every girl is different and if you truly care about a person, you take the time to get to know what makes them happy so you can make sure their life is full of it." I popped a skittle in my mouth watching Dustin and Mike share a look of acknowledgement.

"Shouldn't you be taking notes Eddie?" Carl spoke up making the entire table bust out in a fit of laughter. Eddie shook his head and got up to round the table sending them all into silence. I watched Eddie closely in case he had taken the playful jest as something to be fired up about.

"Boys, this is a lunch break and while I'm sure all of this has been very informative for you, I want you to take a good hard look at these other tables. They're a good mix of Hawkins good little guys and gals right?" The boys nodded carefully.

"Now take a look at the woman in front of you." Eddie put his arms around Dustin and Mike. I shook my head at him confused as to where this was going.

"She's beauty and grace at its purest form and it's a mystery even to myself why she actually wants to hang out with any of us. So if you could stop shaking her down for information about the inner workings of the female mind, that would be great." Eddie pushed Mike and Dustin's heads together and they rubbed the sides of their heads making the others laugh again. Eddie stood up straight and winked at me. I rolled my eyes taking a sip of his drink before he plopped down next to me once more and held my pen out to me to resume working on his tattoo.

I didn't mind talking about the boys personal lives but something in the way Eddie winked at me made me think he didn't want me to reveal all the secrets to them. Love certainly has a learning curve.

[morgana-ren]

SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom? 

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that. 

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then? 

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track. 

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him. 

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves. 

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up. 

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right. 

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins. 

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol 

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move? 

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will 

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t. 

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

 ‘Maybe I will.’ 

That’s how it starts. 

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties. 

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper. 

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils. 

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now. 

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties. 

“Shit-” 

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-”  He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you.  “Yeah- yeah, sure.” 

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.” 

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

[autisticzukka]

what is this hakoda zuko arranged marriage you speak of? i am intrigued

okay so the long story short is that it’s a slight rebuttal of a popular post that is very fun but i find like... unrealistic in a really intriguing way like, how would this ACTUALLY play out. I’ve talked about it at length in my server a few times, and it’s one of those AU’s -- like the genderbend zukka ATLA rewrite or the zukki fic that starts with sokka failing to assassinate zuko -- that lives rent free in my head and I’ve written a couple thousand words for.

tw for like VERY unrequited zuko in love with hakoda and the inherent comedy of sokka being in love with his fire nation stepmom.

so here’s hakoda, chief of the southern water tribe, happily not-married to Bato. and here is a more balanced war, where the north and the south are actually  allies, rather than whatever the fuck they were in ATLA. Yue already has a fiance and the Northern chief refuses to remarry. that leaves hakoda responsible for biting the bullet and doing a political marriage even though, as he points out at length, he is an elected official and if he stops being elected it’s no longer a marriage with the chief of the south pole. intelligently but mostly selfishly motivated (yue’s fiance is his nephew, after all) pakku points out that its not like the fire nation knows... that. the fire nation is dumb. ozai’s stupid.

faced with such inarguable points hakoda stiffens his upper lip, pre-emptively ends things with bato on the understanding that if this is another kya situation they’ll get back together and that he’s still the most important person to him but the tribe comes first yada yada, and deals with katara throwing the mother of all tantrums. it is slightly softened by the fact that in return for him marrying the fire nation noble, a thing everyone can agree isn’t traditional, the north has finally agreed to train katara. she heads out before the wedding, in protest but also so as to not cause an international incident.

(on her way, she’ll find aang. with the war less dire, katara will be sympathetic towards his desire to live without committing violence, even if she deeply can’t relate. they’ll have a hot girl romcom summer of self discovery and coming to terms with the dichotomy between duty and love as they become master benders. at some point they pick up toph. they ARE a throuple.)

sokka meanwhile is like.. not cool with it.. but ? kind of relieved? like. he’s the eldest kid. he’s 18, and he’s been a man of the tribe as far as legalities for several years. it would have been entirely understandable if his dad had asked HIM to do it. he had his emotionally crushing romance with yue, and as much as he was like ‘im kind of a prince’, he finds he doesn’t actually want some of the responsibilities and demands that would bring. yue’s life sucks.

back in the fire nation, zuko never demanded a quest and never went on it. he’s spent years hardening into something that, while brittle, can survive the pressures of the court around him. he still has his scar. he still wants his father to love him, but he knows by now that it’s not something he’s capable of earning. he watches his sister, never the most stable person, start to have complete breakdowns of sanity once she hits puberty, and helps her cover for it and receive medical treatment on the down low. he’s the heir, but he lives knowing that if he was ever in a position to inherit his choices are to abdicate or have the baby sister who he raised kill him and destroy herself and the country in the process.

when he realizes the plan is to marry azula off rather than someone more reasonable-- mai is RIGHT there, for fucks sake-- he doesn’t realize ozai’s true intent is to fuck this up through malicious compliance and false shows of good faith. he panics, and does the zuko thing: he blurts out that this is unacceptable and immoral and she’s only 16 and Ozai sees the true opportunity for two birds with one stone. send zuko, let him piss someone off so badly he gets killed or divorced, and he gets rid of zuko from the line of succession permanently. there are those who are incredibly attached to teh idea of a firstborn for firelord, and it’s been a constant thorn in unpopular ozai’s side to nto be able to name azula his heir apparent without costly rebellion. but if he can taint him in the mind of the fire nation so much that birthright is easy to supercede-- yeah. this’ll work PERFECTLY.

so zuko is sent to marry hakoda, chief of the water tribe.

literally NO ONE was expecting it to be a member of Ozai’s immediate family. besides the fact that his oldest child is half hakoda’s age and his brother has 20 years on hakoda, it would have been sus as fuck - the treaty is not favorable enough to grant that kind of secession of interests. it becomes quickly apparent that this young man -- hakoda reminds himself of that repeatedly. not kid. not kid. young man. don’t think of him like a kid, it’s hard enough on both of us already. -- is not a horrible threat. he’s scared shitless and shakes with what he thinks is bravado. he’s desperate to make the marriage work. he’s desperate to not go home. he’s got a giant fucking scar on his face from where the fire lord punished him for some grievous but unstated offense.

zuko “daddy issues” fire nation sees his husband to be and, despite being scared shitless, immediately begins to soften a little. like... he’s not nearly as scary as he thought he’d be. his face can be stern, but it just as easily breaks into huge smiles, and his eyes are crinkled with laughter. he’s incredibly handsome. and his biceps are. his biceps. are. his hands are...

like. zuko thinks. okay. maybe. maybe his marriage duties. won’t be so horrible as he thought. maybe he’s ready for this. and he knows what to expect, Uncle had discreetly provided him the means and the contacts to acquire an intimate education in the whirlwind of activity that was the two months before leaving. and like, once he’d gotten past the nerves, it was often even... good? or at least... not bad? he thinks that even if hakoda isn’t a professional expert, he has a certain.... je ne sais quoi, if you will.

((DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF))

sokka sees his new stepfather and immediately falls in love because he’s that kind of dumb bitch. (the core of this au is that i cant breathe thinking about sokka falling in love with his hot young stepmom his age who his dad doesnt even want to fuck. like. i CANT. sokka masturbates to ‘hand caught in the washing tub’ fantasies which are even more absurd for requiring zuko to be DOING LAUNDRY. i find it so funny.)

bato watches them at the wedding feast while hakoda is very clearly trying to treat zuko as an Equal Adult Partner and mostly managing to seem like someone having a serious conversation with a seven year old about the game they’ve made up. zuko is clearly enamored with it, soaking up the attention, blushing and doing his best to Bravely Flirt, which at one point includes awkwardly attempting to feed Hakoda by hand. bato has to excuse himself to have a teary eyed giggle, hoping that Kya is in the spirit world looking down and laughing with him. he can’t resent the kid even a little bit, when hakoda is sitting there looking so incredibly fucking befuddled as to what he’s supposed to do with this star struck infant he’s legally wed to

anyways all of this... is very funny. their wedding night... is less so. zuko does not take the rejection from hakoda very well, especially because he’d been caught wanting. HE’S the one who should be rejecting hakoda. and he catastrophizes almost immediately about his potential value to the water tribe, his future treatment, that endless inescapable freezing cold loneliness is the good ending for him here... hakoda, meanwhile, drops zuko off at his home, reassuringly informs him that there’s NOTHING else expected of him and he will be well taken care of, and books it to bato’s. bato refuses to let him in on grounds of ‘you can’t sleep under the same shelter as me on your wedding night to that kid, have a fucking brain’, and he ends up crashing at sokka’s.

sokka, who had KNOWN that his dad wouldnt, but also upon seeing zuko and zuko’s awkward flirting was like... but how COULDNT he???? sokka is relieved.

the core of this fic is that i find it endlessly hilarious for zuko to try and seduce his husband while sokka simps around zuko and bato tries to be heartbroken or betrayed but mostly ends up with a giant case of hysterical schadenfreude. but the thing that CLINCHED it for me, like THE scene. several years after being married, settled into their life. they’re partners and they see each other as people. and zuko just fucking snaps one night

he just kisses him, desperate and clawing and climbing and maybe a little drunk. he knows hakoda is going to push him away, maybe even hit him, but he doesn’t care anymore, he doesn’t care. he can do anything he wants to him as long as he just-- finally does something. zuko is 21 and married to the surface of the sun and the surface of the sun jr is his best friend and clearly in love with him-- so clearly not even zuko can miss it-- and like. listen. listen. zuko is not a patient person. but he’s been patient for this. he waited and he matured and he is a fucking amazing husband and he wants this, he wants him. he wants to be wanted.

but hakoda doesn’t push him away. hakoda doesnt yell at him, or hit him. hakoda gentles the kiss into something soft and closed lipped. he pulls away slowly, and his eyes are so sad for zuko, so pitying. he strokes his cheek with the back of his hand so gently. he says, I’m sorry. I don’t want you.

and zuko daddy issues fire nation swallows

and he nods

and he leaves, even though its his own fucking house

and he knows he’s never going to be good enough

like FUUUCK i am OBSESSED WITH THAT

[hale-13]

Ultraviolet

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 7 - Sunburn

The best part about having free run of Tony Stark’s penthouse in the Tower is the Olympic sized pool that overlooks all of Manhattan. Peter could happily spend the whole summer here.

Words: 2503, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner

TW: Teenage Dumbassery

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Why are you wearing the Armani?” Peter asked, pushing the pair of battered bodega sunglasses he had been using for the past two years up to sit in his chlorine damp hair and squinting as his eyes adjusted to the dimmed lights of the penthouse. FRIDAY closed the automatic door to the balcony and pool behind him.

“First of all this is Tom Ford how dare you,” Tony said, pointing at him with the ‘dad finger’ but not looking up from his rapid texting. “Second of all I’m wearing the Tom Ford, not Armani you absolute heathen, because I have to step into a couple of meetings this afternoon.”

Peter hummed in confusion, taking a bottle of cold Gatorade (the red one because it was clearly the best flavor) from the fridge and chugging it before sitting on one of the barstools. Tony flicked his eyes away from his phone to glare at the puddle dripping off Peter’s swim trunks pointedly – Peter just smirked at him and cracked open the second bottle he had pulled from the fridge, sipping on it slowly. “I thought you were playing hooky all week?” Peter teased, referencing the plan Tony had laid out earlier in the week to do absolutely nothing of value while Pepper was out of town.

“That was the plan,” Tony conceded, tucking his phone into his inner jacket pocket and then fussing with the immaculate pocket square. “Pepper was supposed to land thirty minutes ago but she had to divert her plane to our LA office for… something. Honestly I wasn’t paying attention.”

“And that leads to you going to meetings?” Peter asked with a raised brow.

“Apparently,” Tony groused, pulling the colorful beach towel from around Peter’s neck and dropping it to the floor to soak up the puddle forming under the barstool. “Sorry buddy – I know I promised a week of fun bullshit but I think we both would prefer that I keep my head attached to my body so…”

“It’s fine,” Peter brushed off and it really was. To be honest, he was still tired from their thirty hour workshop bonanza and he could do with a nap. It was a pleasant day for June in New York with a good breeze and some light cloud cover – a nap on one of the obscenely large pool floats sounded heavenly. “I was thinking about napping anyway.”

Tony’s brow furrowed for a second before his hand darted out to land on Peter’s forehead. Peter batted his hand away, narrowly avoiding falling off the stool. “You don’t feel warm. Are you sick? FRI is the kid sick?”

“All vitals within normal limits Boss,” FRIDAY answered, almost sounding amused.

“I’m not sick! Teenagers can enjoy naps you know.” Peter protested, dodging another of his mentor’s attempts to check him for a fever. “It’s pretty much our MO actually.”

Tony rolled his eyes before slipping his tinted AR sunglasses onto his face. “Oh to be young again,” he said sarcastically, gathering up a couple thin files and his StarkPad, tucking his phone into his inner jacket pocket. “You sure you’ll be okay for a few hours?”

“Yes, Tony, jeez.” Peter said with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Oh joy, teenage snark. Aren’t I lucky?” His mentor questioned as he ruffled Peter’s hair into disarray, flinging little water droplets on the counter top and causing the loose curls to tighten up more as they dried. “I’ll be back in time for dinner. Want to grill?”

“Sounds good,” Peter said with a smile, finishing off his second drink and tossing the bottle in the recycling and waving as Tony entered the elevator. Peter let out a large yawn and stretched, sighing happily as his back popped and realigned, before hopping of the stool to gather his towel off the floor and get a couple bottles of water from the fridge.

The sun was bright and warm as he stepped back out onto the pool deck and Peter luxuriated in its warmth, momentarily blinded – he hated the cold more than anything and loved being out in the heat. It took him a few minutes to pick his pool float, Tony had collected an obscene number of ridiculous ones over the past month, but he eventually decided on the watermelon one for its large round shape. He loaded it up with his water, towel and sunscreen before pushing it into the pool and following it with a splash.

He agilely climbed up to sit in the middle and took the bottle of sunscreen, spraying on another protective layer before wadding his towel into a lumpy pillow and face planting into it. “Hey FRI?”

“Yes Peter?” FRIDAY’s voice asked from the waterproof speakers situated around the pool.

“Can you play my lofi playlist?” He nearly slurred, already half asleep.

“No problem Peter,” she answered before the soft music poured from the speakers and Peter let out a sigh before fully relaxing. There was truly nothing better than a nice warm nap out in the sun. The gentle rocking of the water was quick to put him into some of the best sleep of his life.

————————————————

“Peter? Peter! Wake up kiddo!”

Peter groaned, his body stiff and tight and hot and he cracked open his crusty eyes to stare at the edge of the pool. “T’ny?” He croaked out, mouth impossibly dry and vision blurred.

“Yes, Jesus, you really cooked yourself buddy. Can you paddle over here?” Tony was looking at him with worried eyes, pulling his jacket off and slipping out of his Italian leather loafers.

“Come over there?” Peter questioned, confused. The sun had sunk behind the tower and the rooftop was now covered in shade and Peter shivered. Why was it so cold?

“Pete focus up now. I need you to come to me.” Tony said, his voice patient but with the clear undercurrent of concern that he used when Peter had gotten himself into some form of trouble.

“Okay,” Peter grunted. He tried to shift his heavy arms and then gasped in pain, clenching his eyes shut. “Ouchies,” he mumbled, not making any effort to move again. A splash sounded and Peter opened his eyes to see Tony in the water with him, efficiently swimming over to his ridiculous pool float. “But Tom Ford,” Peter protested dumbly.

“This was last seasons suit anyway,” Tony dismissed as he reached the edge of the float, treading water. “I’m gonna help you get into the water Petey – you’re way too hot. It’s not going to feel all that great but you need to trust me alright?”

“You’re Iron Man,” Peter agreed, groggy. “Trust you.”

“Good to know buddy,” Tony said as he carefully reached out and put his arms under Peter’s chest. Peter let out a gasp as his mentor’s wet sleeve rubbed against his sensitive arm but kept his body limp and let Tony maneuver him to the edge of the float while barely keeping it from tipping completely over on them both. “Alright kiddo, take a deep breath for me and hold it okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter grunted before pulling in a large gulp of air and squeezing his eyes shut. To his benefit, Tony was fast – he lifted Peter off the float and dumped him into the water before hooking his forearms under Peter’s armpits and pulling his head up above water again. Peter coughed as he surfaced, more awake and aware now, and really feeling just how truly fucked he was. His skin from the back of his neck down was tight and burning and he remained limp to not stress out the damaged skin any more. “That sucked.”

“Sure did,” Tony agreed, carefully paddling the both of them to the shallow end of the pool where a gentle incline would lead back up to the pool deck. “Think you can walk if I help you?”

“Maybe,” Peter answered, but did adjust himself in the water so he was floating next to Tony with his arm wrapped around the man’s shoulder and Tony’s arm wrapped around his waist just below the edge of his swim trunks to prevent him from touching the tender skin of his back. Exiting the pool was difficult since Peter realized he had definitely burned the bottoms of his feet but, with Tony’s help, he was able to limp out of the pool and towards the penthouse door.

“We’ve gotta get you in some oatmeal,” Tony told him as they entered the living room. The cool air from the AC made Peter shiver but the cool polished concrete floor felt like heaven on the soles of his feet.

“Why oatmeal?” Peter asked, letting Tony steer him down the hall and past his own bedroom towards the master bedroom and into Tony’s own ridiculously huge bathroom.

“It’s an anti-inflammatory,” Tony told him as they entered the bathroom. The large porcelain tub that could probably fit seven or eight full grown men was filling with tepid water mixed with oatmeal – clearly FRIDAY had been listening to their conversation and had acted accordingly. Well that or Peter had missed when Tony had asked her to set it up.

It took some maneuvering, but, soon, Peter was lying face down in the tub, his head pillowed on a pile of soft towels with Tony applying damp washcloths soaked in the cool water and oatmeal to the parts of his back that weren’t submerged in the water. Peter shivered violently once, his failing thermoregulating attempting and not succeeding in functioning, before he just lay, missable, in the tub.

“Close your eyes,” Tony said, wetting another washcloth in the sink with clean water only and wiping his face down. He frowned as his hand ran over Peter’s forehead and he draped the cloth over Peter’s face and eyes to cool the reddened skin. “You’ve got quite the fever brewing Webs.”

“I just wanted a nap,” Peter moaned and he heard Tony let out a little sad sounding chuckle.

“I know. Just relax and try to cool down for now,” and then he stood up and walked to the door. “I’m going to grab you some dry shorts and get the bed set up. Try not to drown.” It took more effort than Peter thought it would but flipping Tony off over the lip of the tub was totally worth it.

He fell into a light doze from there – drifting off as the stinging in his back dulled down to a more comfortable level. “Oh Peter,” Bruce said from above him and Peter jerked in the tub, dislodging the washcloth from his face and causing his body to let out a sting of pain and protest. He let out a little grunt and Dr. Banner winced from above him. “Sorry Pete. I thought you heard me come in. You really burnt yourself.”

“I know,” Peter said, wanting to be irritated but too tired to feel much of anything. Bruce gave him a sad smile.

“According to FRIDAY your temp is down enough we can get you out,” Bruce told him as Tony leaned over the tub as well so both of them were staring down at him. Peter just blinked. “Let Tony and I do most of the work – you don’t want to stress your muscles. Once we can get you out and dried off I’ll get you started on some fluids and electrolytes and that should help some. And my aloe plant donated a couple of leaves to the cause.” Dr. Banner joked. Peter gave him a weak smile in response, not really looking forward the the execution part of Bruce’s plan.

Getting lifted out of the tub was nothing short of agony even though Tony and Bruce lifted him under his armpits again and left him leaning his chest heavily against the bathroom counter to keep as much weight off his feet as possible. Bruce pointedly left the room and Peter endured a few mortifying moments where his mentor had to help him dry off and change into a loose pair of athletic shorts that sat low on his hips so as to not interfere with the burn. He was going to have an awful tan line by the end of this he thought sadly, taking in the lobster colored skin of his back and neck.

Bruce crept back in moments after and had Peter lean his hip against the sink so that he could place the IV catheter into his forearm while standing – making it easier on both of them once they would get him settled into bed. The California king sized bed had been stripped down to just its fitted sheet and, with a little assistance, Peter did a controlled flop face first into the memory foam pillows, letting his eyes shut as he felt Bruce connect the IV line and the cool rush of fluids through his veins.

He was nearly out when a cold plop on his back tore his eyes back open in surprise and he felt immediate relief from his tight, hot skin where the wet mass had landed. “Feels good,” he slurred drowsily as a careful hand massaged the goop into his back. A second set was working on his tight calf muscles, loosening them up and easing the burn.

“Fresh aloe,” Dr. Banner told him. Nothing better for a sunburn.”

Peter hummed in agreement and let himself drift off, finally comfortable.

—————————————-

“I just wanted a nap,” Peter whined as he limped and hobbled into the kitchen of the penthouse almost three days later, Tony following a few steps behind to catch him if he fell over and relying on the walls and his ability to stick to anything to keep him from falling. “I wore sunscreen!”

“Clearly not enough,” his mentor told him, voice tight with irritation. Peter had been saying the same thing on repeat since he woke up from his nap and it was clearly grating the man’s nerves. Peter opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, cracking it open and taking large gulps. Even days later and after Bruce pumped him full of fluids Peter still felt parched and dehydrated. “You know you’re supposed to reapply like every hour in direct sunlight and water right?”

“Well I do now,” Peter answered, leaning against the stove so he could take the weight off his legs. His skin still felt so tight that it felt like it may burst. And the blisters… best not to think about it. Tony clocked the movement.

“Time for more aloe,” he said pointedly, shooing Peter off toward his bedroom. “I’ll get it out of the freezer and be right behind you.”

“Thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter said as he hobbled away. He passed by the door to the pool, the water sparkling brightly in the mid-afternoon sun and he looked at it thoughtfully. “Redo next week,” he promised to himself. He’d just have to get FRIDAY to wake him up every hour next time. Besides, he needed to even out his tan.

[swimyghost]

Snazz's Birthday Bash

TODAY IS @holyfandomsnazz 's birthday today! EVERYONE WISH THEM A HAPPY B-DAY!

@self-insert-nonsense @wickedhellagoodtime ARE HERE TOO!

The heat was getting to everyone. Even though the region was known for its cooler summers compared to the rest of the country, the wave of moist warmth was ruining the entire Roomies' day.

"Swimy," Snazz said, their blonde hair frazzled and covering their weary eyes, "did you pay the goddamn rent for the electric bill?"

"Unfortunately, until I get my ID, I'm still a minor in the eyes of the law," the recently made adult replied, pulling their blue hair away from their sweat covered brow, "so, no, I didn't pay the fucking electrical bill,"

"Well, couldn't you have gotten your ID earlier!?" Snazz shouted.

"I wasn't eighteen until three days ago, genius!" Swimy fired back.

Formerly lounging on the couch, the pair were now locked in a fierce glaring match with both of them looking like they were ready to fight each other.

"You're the adult here, why didn't you pay!?" Swimy yelled.

"Because I haven't been paid yet!"

"Neither have I!"

"Enough!"

A pink-haired figure stepped out into the living room with a tired, yet annoyed, look on their face. In her hand was a paper bag with the name 'SIN' scrawled on the forehead which was dotted with sweat stains. Their floral patterned shirt was just as ruffled as Swimy's hoodie and Snazz's gray shirt. Putting both hands on their hips, the eldest member of the roommates frowned at the duo.

"Do you want us to get another noise complaint?"

"No," Snazz grumbled, leaning back into the couch.

"But Dawn-" Swimy started.

"No buts!" Dawn interrupted, "it's already hard enough to find a four-bedroom apartment in our price range, I don't need you guys making it harder,"

Snazz raised their hand, "Technically my room is a former closet,"

Dawn turned their gaze away, clearly embarrassed, "It still counts,"

"Why can't we just ask your boy toy to help us out?" Swimy questioned.

"Karamatsu is just as much in a financial struggle as us and you know that," Dawn said with an even deeper frown.

"What's the point of a man if you can't even get him to pay your rent?" Snazz muttered.

All three went silent for a few moments before Dawn sighed, "I get my Patreon money at midnight. When is the latest we can pay?"

"The sixteenth," Swimy replied.

"And what day is it today?"

"The fourteenth,"

"Okay, so tomorrow I need to-"

"Oh shit really?" Snazz said, their eyes wide.

Both Swimy and Dawn blinked in confusion. "Is that a problem?" Dawn asked.

"No, no, it's not that," the blonde waved their hand nonchalantly, "I just... Well... It's my birthday tomorrow,"

"What?!" Swimy exclaimed, "I didn't know your birthday was in the same month as mine!"

"I- We're siblings how did you forget!?" Snazz said with their nose scrunched up.

"You know I'm bad with dates!"

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Dawn asked, ignoring Swimy's outburst.

"Hey, I forgot it myself," Snazz raised their hands defensively, "besides... It's not like we celebrated it much anyway,"

The oldest and youngest of the Roomie siblings glanced awkwardly at each other as an uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Several moments passed before Snazz stood up with a grunt. "I got commissions to finish. I'll pay the rent with that next time. Later,"

Dawn reached out to grab hold of their sibling, but they managed to dodge their grasp and entered their room swiftly, closing it with a soft thud. While the apartment was dead still, Dawn and Swimy rushed over to one another and began talking in hushed tones.

"How could you forgot Snazz's birthday!?" the pink-haired singer whispered angrily.

"You forgot it too, don't you try and deny it!" Swimy countered back in an equally low voice.

"Well... Did you get them a present?" Dawn asked anxiously.

"I forgot that Snazz's birthday was even this month, did you really think I'd get them a gift?!"

"Well, I don't have anything either!"

The two sighed, but their emotions were still running high. They had under twenty-four hours to purchase a gift for their sibling with the little amount of money all of them had, all while a desert-like heat filled the region in its unbearable cloud of misery.

"Alright, get your shoes on and try to get Sam out of their room," Dawn ordered, referencing their other sibling.

"What for?" Swimy asked, already reaching for their shoes near the old front door.

"Because we need to go out and get Snazz a gift before it's too late! They already probably think we're a bad sibling so we need to hurry and get something they like!" Dawn explained.

"Alright, alright, keep your voice down!" Swimy hissed, glancing over at Snazz's room.

Dawn nodded and began putting on her shoes while Swimy rushed over to the third oldest Roomie sibling. They grimaced at the yellowing paint on the walls as they swiftly knocked on the door.

"Sam. Sam! I know you're in there and we need you!" the blue-haired teen begged.

"...Go away," a muffled voice stated tiredly.

"Sam, we forgot about Snazz's birthday! All of us need to go find a gift for them!"

"...I'll search online for something. I'll Venmo you some money,"

"Ugh! Why won't you just come out!?"

"...Too hot. Too bright,"

"...That's fair,"

"What did they say?" Dawn asked, all ready to go. Swimy walked over to them with a huff.

"They said they'll look online for something," Swimy complained.

"Let me guess, it's too hot for them?" Dawn guessed.

"Bingo,"

"Well," the eldest sister sighed, "we don't have time to argue. We have a birthday to save!"

"Alright! Let's do it!"

---

"We're not going to be able to do it!"

Dawn looked down at the completely worn-out Swimy, watching as sweat rained down off their body onto the asphalt road as they were uncomfortably hunched over. Their blue hoodie was completely ruined hours earlier and had been tied around their waist in a desperate amount to stay cool, revealing a Mothman T-shirt underneath the read "Eat. Sleep. Lurk.".

"C'mon, one more store," Dawn said with exhaustion seeping into her voice. Her floral pattern blouse and her skirt were completely soaked in sweat and her skin was beet red. Still, determination held strong in her green eyes as she tried to pull her sibling up.

"No! No more stores! We've been into too many stores!" Swimy whined, resisting their sister's efforts.

"We need to find a birthday present!" Dawn argued.

"And I need to find a new therapist but you don't see me spending nearly four hours walking in unbearable heat to find one!" Swimy growled, motioning towards the setting sun, "besides, I think Snazz is starting to think our "double date" excuse is a little suspicious,"

Dawn sighed, "I know... But we need to prove we care about them. Just one gift will be enough,"

Swimy's eyes darted to the side, "I care too... But don't you think that maybe I caused Snazz's forgetfulness? That I'm the one to blame?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean," Swimy looked uncomfortable, "I was the youngest and born literally four days before their birthday. Snazz's birthday has always been overshadowed by me, the "baby" of the family,"

"Swimy-"

"What if... What if I'm the reason Snazz forgot? That I've been a terrible sibling this whole time and I've been blissfully unaware? That I've been able to happily celebrate my birth while they've been forgotten,"

Dawn, nothing tears welling up in their eyes, pulled Swimy close, "Don't talk like that. I doubt Snazz blames you for your birthday or the fact we never celebrated theirs as much as kids. If anything, they should blame Mom and Dad for that. You have nothing to do with this,"

"But... We if they do blame me?"

"Then we have to show Snazz the perfect gift!" Dawn gave her young sibling a tight squeeze, "What do you say? One more store?"

"...Yeah, one more," Swimy looked up concerned, "but how are we going to find one that-"

Suddenly, Swimy's phone went off with a loud buzz. Startled, the pair broke apart while Swimy awkwardly fumbled around with it. There was a single text sent by Sam:

I'm making a pie. I also found something Snazz will most definitely like.

Attached was an address to a nearby store. Sin blinked in surprise after she looked it up.

"It's a weird occult and true crime store. What does this have to do with a birthday present?"

"Who cares!?" Swimy proclaimed with a big grin, "we have a lead! And you said we needed to look in one more store!"

Dawn, still looking unconvinced, simply nodded, "If you say so,"

With that, the pair took off, ignoring the shouts and glares of passerby's. Dawn and Swimy managed to weave their way through tight alleys and crowds with ease with their newfound energy. It wasn't long before the two were situated outside a dark-colored store with black tinted windows. Crystals and occult symbols were carefully hung visibly through the glass. While Swimy appeared eager, Dawn seemed less than sure.

"You okay?" Swimy asked.

"Yeah just... It's creepy," Dawn shivered.

"...I'm married to Death's ferrywoman, Dawn," Swimy lifted their hand, showing off their black and silver wedding ring.

"That's different!"

"It really isn't,"

"Fuck off!" the pink-haired girl shoved Swimy into the store.

Inside was surprisingly bright which went against the darkness of the clothes, books, and crystals. The wood made a hollow thud with every step. Shelves were spaced in rows that carried various occult items. Walls were lined by clothes and posters containing demons or hard-core metal bands to-

"Is that Al Capone?" Dawn pointed at a poster.

"Yeah... And that's Haurkichi Yamaguchi," Swimy motioned to another poster, referencing the creator and former head of the Yamaguchi-gumi yakuza organization.

"Ahem,"

The Roomies siblings turned and, across the store, was a teenaged Japanese cashier. She had a combination of boredom and exasperation as she parted her black hair from her eyes. "Welcome to Crimes and the Concealed, a true crime and occult experience where there is something for everyone," she waved her hands less than amused for a supposed to be dramatic effect.

"Uh... Thanks," Dawn replied, nudging Swimy forward.

"If you buy one poster, the other is 15% off,"

"Thank you! But we're looking for something else!" Dawn hastily shoved Swimy into the back of the store, away from the prying eyes of the cashier, who seemed equally glad not to deal with them.

"That was rude," Swimy glared

"Sorry! This whole shop gives me the creeps," Dawn whined.

"I'm never taking you on a double date to the Underworld," Swimy muttered, blissfully unaware of the sound of the store door opening.

The siblings went looking for something buy, pouring over the many candles and strange objects as the setting sun remained a looming reminder of their limited time. After looking at the fifteenth crystal necklace, Dawn was about to give up when Swimy let out a gasp. Dawn instantly turned and was stunned to see what was hanging in the corner of the store.

Body pillows. Over a dozen body pillows of famous gangsters and criminals from Billy the Kid to Calogero Vizzini to Pablo Escobar, the rather morbid idea of placing known men that went outside the law for their evil deeds in alluring poses made the two shiver. But the one that caught their eye was the lone female in the mix. Long lavender hair matched her dazzling amber eyes. She donned a pirate outfit with a black corset that complimented her figure. Black boots with gold accents that reached to her knees, similar to how her all-knowing smirk reached across her face.

Dawn reached out and touched the pillow, "That's... Snazz's girlfr-"

"MY WAIFU!"

Suddenly, two large men shoved past the Roomie siblings. One had thick-rimmed and lens glasses with a greasy ponytail and sweat and grease-stained shirt that showed a bunch of underage anime girls in tight clothing and the other looked similar but had shorter black hair with glasses that blocked out his eyes and was slightly skinnier than his friend but still wore questionable attire.

"Oh my dear waifu, how I've looked for you for so long!" the ponytail man wailed, almost crying on the pillow.

"Hey! We had our hand on it first!" Swimy said, shoving past their older sister and glaring at the men.

"Eh!? What would two normies want with this?!" the smaller of the two gasped, his green jacket fluttering with the sudden movement showing that he had two anime girls sitting on their knees with one only wearing an open suit and fedora and the other an Italian suit with a cigar in her mouth.

"Did you use normies unironically?" Swimy muttered with disgust.

"You two don't get it clearly!" the larger man snorted, "If you were real fans of Chibi Wakai Gyangu No On'nanoko, you'd understand how rare this pillow this is!"

"Chibi Young Gangster Girls?" Dawn repeated the title, confused.

Both men turned their attention to Dawn. The ponytail man spoke first, "It's an anime where all the famous gangsters are turned into cute little girls! But the modern-day pirate mob boss can't be added because she keeps targeting the animation studio anytime they try!"

"I wonder why?" Swimy rolled their eyes.

"Quiet pipsqueak!" The jacketed man yelled.

"Easy, Kurai," the larger man leaned into Swimy's personal space, "those this one look like Al Capone-chan?"

Kurai blinked then let out a small smile, "She does, Terro! All she has to do is change her hair and-"

"It's 'they' and you stay away from my sibling!" Dawn shouted, pulling Swimy behind them.

"Shut up, pinkie! You have no right to judge since you're cosplaying that Sin idol!" Terro shouted.

"Their boobs are clearly fake! They're such a fake cosplayer she can't even get her most noticeable features!" Kurai pointed out.

Dawn gasped and wrapped her arms around her chest. Swimy leaped forward and practically hissed at the two, "We're taking that pillow and you're going to leave us alone, or else!"

Terro sneered, "Or else what?"

With the snap of their fingers, a bright blue beam of blue particles swirled around Terro's head. He tried to swat them away, but the blue solidified and turned into a dense water bubble around his head that spun like a cyclone. He tried to scream but inhaled a bunch of water instead. Kurai immediately went on the defense and tried the grab hold of Swimy. Dawn, realizing that talking wouldn't be successful here, stepped aside as Swimy leaped backward and willed her hand into a fiery blaze. With a primal scream, she slapped him full force, sending both him and his glasses flying in opposite directions. A bright red handprint was left on his face. A sudden gasp alerted the siblings that the water bubble had burst. Before they could react, Terro was on top of Swimy and trying to hold them down.

"You crazy bitch!" He screamed, trying to land a hit on the smaller person.

Swimy used their free leg to deliver a swift kick to the stomach before headbutting him off them. He groaned in pain and rolled onto his side. Dawn took this opportunity to light her foot ablaze and slam it down right onto his crotch. He howled in pain as his pants and his manhood were burned by the attack.

"Get the Hell out of here before we do worse!" Dawn ordered, readying their fists with Swimy following close behind.

Whimpering, the two took off running, leaving behind Kurai's set of glasses and several clothes that had fallen during the scuffle. Tired, Swimy grabbed hold of the body pillow and trudged towards the register. The cashier trembled as they set it down.

"W-Will that be all?" she stuttered.

"Yeah," Swimy replied bluntly.

The cashier nodded and quickly rung up the pillow. She practically shoved the item into Swimy's arms and nearly dove under the counter. Dawn rested a weary hand on Swimy and sighed.

"C'mon, let's get out of here before the cops arrive. We have a birthday to save,"

---

All Snazz wanted to do was sleep. Not only had they remembered that their birthday was a thing but they had spent the whole night trying to finish commissions in an attempt to forget it again. Even though their body was worn out, their mind was rushing with memories of all the birthdays that were forgotten of the years.

It's like they never cared Snazz thought.

They rolled onto their side for the hundredth time that night, trying to force sleep to come. What they didn't expect was their door to suddenly slam open and a large weight crashing onto their side.

"Oof! What the fuck-!"

"Wake up, sleepyhead! Time to have the best day you've ever had!"

"...Swimy?" Snazz looked up, seeing the smiling face of their youngest sibling looking down on them. They had thick eyebags that hung from under their eyes that balanced out their high amounts of enthusiasm radiating off them.

"Do you know another blue-haired bitch that's related to you? Now come on before I drag you out!" Swimy exclaimed, pulling on Snazz's shirt sleeve.

"I'm still I'm my pajamas and I haven't even showered!" Snazz argued, trying to resist their pulling.

"You also haven't cleaned your room in two weeks but you aren't worried about that!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck yourself!"

With the help of both their powers and natural strength, Swimy managed to help drag Snazz out of their bed and made them cover their eyes.

"This is stupid," Snazz grumbled.

"You're stupid but I love you anyway. To the kitchen!" Swimy shoved Snazz forward.

After several near attempts of Snazz crashing into a wall and one toe snubbing, they made it to the kitchen with Snazz less than amused.

"This better be good,"

"It is! Now... Open!"

Snazz did so and gasped. Not only was their favorite pie, chocolate coconut perfectly sat on their rickety table, but a large wrapped present was sitting beside it. Snazz and Sam, wearing their infamous multi-colored gradient mask, stood there with birthday poppers and wide grins.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SNAZZ!" all three siblings shouted, pulling the poppers and sending cheap confetti everywhere. Instead of being excited, Snazz stood there motionless with a blank expression. After a brief pause, Sam leaned over and whispered into Swimy's ear.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Swimy whispered back.

"Swimy," Sin said sternly.

"I didn't! Honest!"

Sam crossed their arms, "Well why are they-"

Wails exploded from Snazz as fat tears ran down their face. Immediately, all of their siblings rushed over and began to comfort them.

"Is it the pie? Is the pie not good enough?" Swimy asked nervously.

"I made that fucker by hand! It's perfect!" Sam yelled.

"Well if I have to be blamed for something so do you!" Swimy yelled back.

"Was it the poppers? God, I knew they were a bad idea!" Dawn nearly pulled their hair due to stress.

"You wanna go?" Sam snarled.

"Yeah, let's go!" their blue-haired sibling smirked, readying their fists.

Snazz grabbed all three of them and pulled them into a tight hug pile on the floor. Still crying, they managed to choke out a few words.

"I-I'm so happy! Y-You did a-all of this fo-for me!"

"Of course we did! We love you Snazz!" Dawn said, flinching as Snazz began to cry harder.

"C'mon, open the gift!" Swimy said, pulling the present down to the group.

Snazz didn't hesitant into tearing it open. They gasped in shock when they saw what it was.

"Is this my girlfriend? On a... Body pillow?"

"Don't ask how we got her," Dawn butted in.

"I-"

"Don't. Ask."

"I- Alright. Thank you. It's a lovely gift," Snazz said, setting it aside.

"Let's eat the damn pie already. I spent all night working on it so let's put it to good use," Sam said, standing up.

"I'll get the plates!" Sin called over her shoulder.

"Lemme get the forks and knives!" Swimy started to rush over to the drawers.

While the three started to gather everything for their meal, Snazz watched them fondly. They grabbed ahold of their new gift and squeezed it tightly.

Whatever being rules this hell of a universe... Thank you for my siblings... And thank you for this birthday.

[zootopiathingz]

Into the Wilde

Meet (Not So) Cute

There are many steps of a hustle. The first one being that you have to have the confidence to actually do it. Not a lot of mammals I know have the guts to try. But when you're like me and you've been doing it since you learned how to talk, it basically becomes your whole personality. My lifeline is based on tricking other animals to get what I need so I can sell my product and earn some money. At first I wasn't proud of this, but now I've gotten used to it after 20 years.

Today's just another day of work for me. I'm going to meet up with my business partner, Finnick, at an elephant ice cream parlor to scam our way into getting a giant popsicle. Then we're going to resell it as our own branded "pawpsicles", and to earn some extra cash we'll sell the leftover sticks to some construction workers, maybe some rodents. It sounds convoluted but it's worked so far. I don't see why today should be any different.

Right about at noon, I make my towards the ice cream parlor known as Jumbeaux's Café. Sure, the place is meant for bigger animals, but that's the point. We need the biggest popsicle we can get so we can melt it down to smaller sized treats. And so no one suspects us, we have the perfect story that's sure to fool the owner.

As I cross the street, a Fresh Doe truck drives right past me, nearly running me over. I look back at the ram driving it, and he shouts at me to watch where I'm going. What an asshole. Eh, I expected him to blame me for it. Everyone in Zootopia's always blaming the fox. That's just how it is.

Moving on, I walk in front of the café, but I have to make sure no one's watching me. You can never be too careful with this kind of stuff. Once the coast is clear, I follow an elephant lady inside, and now begins the plan. I see Finnick waiting for me by the door, wearing an elephant onesie costume.

Finnick and I go way back. I've known him since I started doing this type of business. He showed me the ropes and was the first to suggest that we do this together. At first I didn't want to, since I was dead set on becoming independent. But after a few years I decided to accept his offer, since we could make twice as much money working together than by ourselves. Besides, what was the harm in having a friend? Well, we never exactly referred to each other like that, but that's pretty much what he is.

He walks past me to get in line, murmuring, "Let's get this over with." I follow him quickly and we make our way towards the front of the line, and since we're smaller than the elephants, no one notices that we cut.

The owner (I think his name is Jerry, so I'll call him that) turns around to take another order. He almost doesn't even see Finnick and me, so I have to call out to him to get his attention. He looks down at us, and I see in his face that he's not happy. I don't need to guess why.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyeing me up and down. I get why it would be weird for a fox to buy something from a shop for elephants, but damn, he hasn't even heard me say anything and just assumes I'm up to no good.

"Yes sir, I'd like to buy a jumbo pop, please." I say politely.

Apparently I wasn't polite enough, since he just glares at me. I can tell he's observing my behavior very closely, so I try to stand still in the least suspicious way possible.

"Listen, I don't know what you're doing skulking around during daylight hours, but I don't want any trouble in here." He says. "So hit the road!"

Geez, if this is how he treats customers, then it's a mystery why this place has a four-star rating. But I want to avoid arguing with him, at least not aggressively. That would get me nowhere. I have to keep up an act. "I'm not looking for any trouble either, sir." I say in my own defense, "I simply wanna buy a jumbo pop," I gesture down to Finnick, who trots to my side. "for my little boy."

Yeah, the plan is to pretend we were a father and son. Acting cute and pulling on heartstrings is the best way to hustle, so that was our usual routine. I bend down to ask Finnick, "You want the red or the blue, pal?"

He walks up to the glass displaying the three jumbo pops. As expected, he points toward the red one. We always got red, it was just how we liked it and it always sold the best.

Jerry, however, just shoos him away with his trunk. "Okay, come on, kid. Back up." He looks down at me, "Listen buddy, what? There aren't any fox ice cream joints in your part of town?"

"Uh, no, no. There are, there are. It's just, my boy," I pat Finnick on the head. "this goofy little stinker, he loves all things elephant, wants to be one when he grows up."

Finnick pulls up the hood of his costume, which has the ears and the trunk of an elephant. It even has its own trumpet, which he uses now to emphasize my point. "Is that adorable?" I ask as he leans against my leg. "Who the heck am I to crush his little dreams, huh? Right?"

But Jerry isn't impressed. Honestly, he could not care less, it seems. "Look, you probably can't read, fox," He takes a sign and points at it with his trunk, "But the sign says 'we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone'! So beat it!"

Refusing service to someone because they want a jumbo pop seems extreme to me, but hey, I'm not a café owner. Still, we can't give up yet. We need that jumbo pop, and we have to get it one way or another.

"You're holding up the line." An elephant lady says as she pushes me from behind.

Finnick trumpets sadly and I rub the top of his head 'sympathetically'. We have to appear as cute and as sad as possible now, so maybe we can be pitied by Jerry or another one of the workers. But these elephants have no mercy. Great. Now how are we supposed to sell today? There aren't any other ice cream parlors that sell big enough popsicles that we can get in time.

Suddenly, I hear a voice from beside me. "Hello? Excuse me?"

I turn around to see a bunny speaking to the owner. She's wearing a hat and an orange mesh vest, so I guess she does parking duty. Why she's even here is beyond me, but I get the sneaking feeling it has something to do with me and Finnick.

"Hey, you're gonna have to wait your turn just like everyone else, meter maid." Jerry says to her.

"Actually, I'm an officer." She says, pulling back her vest strap to show off her badge. Huh, that's weird. I didn't think they let bunnies on the police force. Then again if she's doing parking duty, she must be new. Makes sense. Police work isn't meant for animals like her.

"Just had a quick question," She goes on, speaking a little louder. "Are your costumers aware they're getting snot and mucus with their cookies 'n cream?"

A couple elephants sitting nearby hear this, one even spits out his ice cream all over the other's face. I have to hold in a laugh.

Jerry looks down at her confused, "What are you talkin' about?"

"Well, I don't wanna cause you any trouble, but I believe scooping ice cream with an ungloved trunk is a class-three health code violation." The bunny says, "Which is kind of a big deal."

Wait, is she trying to help me? She might also be trying to help out the customers by not getting snot in their ice cream. But still, she just randomly shows up while I'm trying to buy a jumbo pop for my 'son'. It can't be a coincidence, right?

Jerry glares at her for a moment before she continues, "Of course I can let you off with a warning if you were to glove those trunks and, I don't know," She gestures for me to step forward, in which I oblige. "Finish selling this nice dad and his son a...what was it?" She whispers to me.

"A jumbo pop." I say, smiling up at the owner. "Please."

"A jumbo pop." The bunny repeats.

Wow, I honestly did not expect anyone to actually help us. I was starting to think our little ruse wasn't going to fool anyone. I almost feel bad that we're having to trick her, too.

Jerry sighs in defeat, deciding to give in. And I don't blame him. "15 dollars."

"Thank you so much." I say, then nod at the bunny. "Thank you."

But as I reach into my pocket, I'm surprised to feel nothing there. Or so, that's how it looks to the others. Of course I have my wallet with me, I'm not an idiot. It's just all part of the ploy. "Oh no, are you kidding me? I don't have my wallet!" I chuckle nervously, pretending to be frustrated with myself. "I'd lose my head if it weren't attached to my neck. That's the truth. Oh boy," I sigh and kneel down to Finnick, "I'm sorry, pal. Gotta be about the worst birthday ever."

I might have improvised that part, only to further guilt the animals around us. Hey, a fox has to have a little fun.

"Please don't be mad at me." I say, cupping Finnick's face in my paws, kissing his head. I know he hates that, but I have to do whatever it takes. I stand back up and take his paw. "Thanks anyway." I say sadly to the bunny before walking out of the line. I can feel Finnick trying to reach out to the jumbo pop, probably pouting like a child.

Before I can even walk out the door, I hear someone slam something onto the counter. Not to my surprise, the bunny pays for the jumbo pop for us. I'm surprised she actually fell for our little fib. She really is a rookie.

After we're given the red jumbo pop, the three of us walk outside the café. Finnick holds the bunny's paw while I carry the jumbo pop over my shoulder, surprisingly it's easy to lift. Just a few pounds heavier than myself.

"Officer, I can't thank you enough. So kind, really." I say to her, "Can I pay you back?"

As I get a better look at her, I catch a glimpse of something in her belt. It looks red, maybe pink-ish. But just from that one glance, I can already tell exactly what it is. I've seen it many times in my life. Hell, I'm used to seeing it almost everyday. Fox repellent.

Of course a bunny would be carrying that around. They were all afraid of us. But then why did she help me when she obviously isn't fond of foxes? I guess she's just trying to make herself feel better. Now I feel less guilty about tricking her.

"Oh no, my treat." She answers, releasing Finnick's paw. "It just— you know, it burns me up to see folks with such backward attitudes toward foxes."

Really? Then explain that fox repellent, two-faced meter maid.

"I just wanna say you're a great dad and just a..." She pauses to find the right words. "A real articulate fella."

"Well, that is high praise." I put a paw to my chest, deciding to play along. "It's rare that I find someone so non-patronizing. Officer...?" I ask, hinting that I want to know her name.

"Hopps." She tips her hat. Of course she has a last name like that. "Mr...?"

"Wilde. Nick Wilde." I hold out my paw, and she gladly shakes it.

I probably should've used a fake name so this can't be traced back to me. But I'm not worried. It's not like she's a real cop, anyway. And I'm not doing anything illegal, so it doesn't matter.

She bends down to look at Finnick, smiling widely. "And you, little guy, you wanna be an elephant when you grow up? You be an elephant. Because this is Zootopia." She pulls out a sticker from her pocket and places it on his chest. "Anyone can be anything."

Now I know she's not from around here. Anyone who actually grew up in Zootopia would know that that stupid saying doesn't mean jack shit. You can't just be whatever you want. God, someone needs to open her eyes and introduce her to the real world. Oh well, she'll figure that out soon enough.

"Ah, boy. I tell him that all the time." I say, then hand the jumbo pop down for Finnick to hold. "Alright, here ya go. Two paws!" He holds up the jumbo pop easily, probably better than me since he's actually stronger despite his size. "Oh yeah, look at that smile! That's a happy birthday smile! All right, give her a little bye-bye toot-toot!"

Finnick toots twice, and the bunny mimicks the sound with a small laugh.

"Bye now!" I say as I turn around, walking along the sidewalk with Finnick.

"Goodbye!" She says, but I don't bother to turn around to see if she waves. I honestly don't care less.

Well, that was a painfully long five minutes. But it worked. Now it's time to move into phase two of our popsicle procedure.

[ofieugogyshz]

Fic;; This Will Get Better, ch. 7 - Rotomdex

Chapter content warnings: none

Word count: 3500

Chapter Summary: Having cleared the first Trial with ease, Mustard gives the students of the Master Dojo and its guests a few hours before starting the next one. In that time, Sarah decides to update her Pokedex, and meets Hyde, the son of Honey and Mustard. When everyone comes back for lunch, Mustard announces what the next trial is!

(Fic Masterpost)

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

Mustard announced that there would be a short pause before the second trial. I decided to take the time to look into getting my Pokedex updated. I didn't need it to be upgraded to a full, complete transfer over to a new device-- in fact, I hated that idea. I wanted to update the information in mine with that of Galar's, so that I'd know about any other regional variant Pokemon, like those three Slowpoke from earlier. I was going to need at least that much while we stayed here and trained.

“Do you know if there's any way that I can update my Pokedex while I'm here?” I asked Miss Honey. “Those Slowpoke didn't respond to Pika's Thunderbolt like I expected, and if we're going to be here for a month, I'd like to be able to know more about the local Pokemon.” While I spoke, I dug my Pokedex out of my bag, one that dated over 20 years old. I saw the surprise on Honey's face and let out an annoyed sigh, expecting yet another comment about its age. “I know, I know, it's old, but I've been able to keep it upgraded; the insides are far more up to date and have more memory than the original model did. Honestly, this is just a shell, but it's the same shell that I've had since I started out as a trainer.”

“Why... That's amazing that you've managed to keep it functioning after all this time!” The unexpected praise caused my face to warm up. “I wouldn't know how to upgrade that myself, but if there's anyone on the Isle of Armor that could, it'd be my son Hyde!”

“Hyde?” I tried to think back on everyone that I had met so far. No one introduced themselves with that name, and no one had said anything about being Honey and Mustard's child, either. She must have caught my confused look and nodded, as though remembering something.

“Yes, of course. You haven't had a chance to meet him yet-- he doesn't like to come out of his room often, and prefers to play with his inventions instead. If you go over here...” Honey pointed me towards his room. “...you'll probably find him inside.”

I went down the path she pointed, until I found a nameplate that said “Hyde”. I knocked on the closed door; there was no immediate response. I thought about knocking again when the door opened, and I had to look down to see a small child, maybe around age 8 or 9, looking up at me with an almost condescending face.

“What do you want? I'm kind of busy right now, so make it quick.”

“Oh, um. Uh... I'm looking for Hyde. Do you know where I could find him?” As soon as I said it, I knew that I had asked a dumb question. I had expected someone much older, given Mustard's age. Was Honey just that good at hiding her age, or... I did not want to think about that.

The little boy let out an annoyed sigh.

“Yes, that's me. Geez, why are you even knocking around if you don't know who you're looking for.” He started to close the door, and before I could stop myself, I put my hand on it to keep it from closing.

“Wait! Sorry, I just... Didn't know that you were going to be.... Um....”

“A kid?” He rolled his eyes at me. “Did you need something from me or what?”

Rude little shit. He was quickly getting on my nerves. But if his mom thought he could help update my Pokedex...

“Yes, actually, I did need something from you.” I held out my Pokedex. Hyde's grip on the door loosened and he adjusted his glasses to look at the device in my hand.

“What is that?” he asked incredulously.

I let out an annoyed sigh.

“It's my Pokedex.”

“I've never seen a Pokedex like that.” He motioned if he could take it, and I handed it over. He looked it over, opening it to look at the screen that had been replaced more than three times over the years.

I was attached to the old model of Pokedex. I felt bad when I had to scrape the insides out in order for someone to build a new computer inside of it, when times changed and technology improved far more than it could keep up. When information began to take up too much space, I paid someone to change its storage capacity, along with everything else. I had invested so much into it. Time. Money. Emotions. Experiences. It was my pride and joy as a trainer, having that model; where others had upgraded as soon as they could, I still clung to it, glad to relive memories that were forever etched into the casing. It wasn't just about the data-- data could be saved, duplicated, and moved. It was about the attachment, the memories it held for me. And upgrading to a new shell meant that I wouldn't have that connection to those old days anymore.

“It's a little bit older than you,” I said after a few moments of letting him look.

“Looks older than my dad.”

I could hear a snort of laughter from behind me, and I turned around, seeing Lance standing there, trying not to laugh. I crossed my arms, frowning at him.

“I'm sorry; I came to look for you, and--” he began.

“You're in no position to talk, mister 'listens to music from the 1800s',” I scoffed.

“1900s. And that's not even that old!”

“It may as well be the 1800s, old as your soul is!”

“Can you two stop your married bickering?” Hyde interjected. The small child looked annoyed: he was tapping his foot, arms across his chest, waiting for his presence to be noticed again. “I want to get back to work on important stuff; I don't have time for your old people nonsense.”

I couldn't tell whether I should have laughed or been appalled at that comment, while Lance seemed amused.

“Is this... is this how you treat people who want to ask you for favors?”

“You came to me; I don't see why I have to help you.”

I puffed out my cheeks, trying to hold back any rude comments. Kid or not, I wasn't above telling them off. But he was the master's kid, and my husband was there now, too...

“What's going on?” Lance asked.

“I asked Honey if she knew where I could get my Pokedex updated, and she suggested that I ask her son.” I jerked my head in the direction of Hyde. “But I'm starting to think that this was a waste of my time.”

“Look, I don't know how to update something that old. But I can give you a Rotomdex for you to use. I feel a little bad giving it away since my mom got it for me to use next year, but I'm not interested in doing the Gym Challenge. You want it or not?”

“Not particularly.”

“A Rotomdex would make it a lot easier to get around here,” Hyde began saying, as he continued to look over my ancient device to understand it. “They have maps, camera function, voice-based communications, and they're controlled by a Rotom, who are able to talk by using the installed voice libraries. And it's lot quicker for me than trying to figure out how this thing works.”

I thought about it. A Rotomdex sounded interesting, for sure, but the thought of using it felt off. It would be too different from what I was used to. Like I'd have to give up using my old Pokedex because of the new one.

“You'd just need a Rotom to put into the device. Trust me, out here you'll want a Rotomdex for the map system. It'll help guide you around the Isle and provide you with information on the area. It's really easy to get lost here.”

“Yeah... I won't need that. I've never gotten lost. I have a pretty damn good internal GPS; I can intuitively find my way to the place I need to be.” It wasn't even some sort of sixth sense developed over years of travel; I had always known the quickest way out of a route, cave, or forest. Even a trip to the distortion world in my younger years was disorienting at best, but I hardly got lost while in it. Still was not on my list of favorite places to go.

“That doesn't happen around here. Lots of overconfident trainers think that they don't need to use a map, and then they wind up getting themselves lost, especially in the forest. We usually have to wind up sending out a search party, like we did with you when you got here.”

“Excuse you, we were not lost!” I crossed my arms and huffed. “We were misinformed on how to meetup.”

Hyde handed back my Pokedex. It seemed that he was done with me if I wasn't going to take the offer for a Rotomdex. There was a quiet pause as we waited for the other to speak.

“If you're done here...”

“Ugh, fine, I'll take the d—stupid Pokedex.”

“It's a Rotomdex,” he corrected. Hyde opened the door to his bedroom all the way and invited both my husband and I inside.

It looked more like a workshop than a bedroom. There were many computers, all sorts of machinery scattered about. Cables were bundled up together, but that didn't stop the few spare ones creating tangles across the floor. There were boxes around the room used to house different components he kept.

“Sorry about the mess. Mom's always telling me to clean up, but I don't see the point if I don't usually have people over.”

Hyde went over to a cabinet in the corner and began to rifle through its drawers, trying to find something.

“Right...” That felt familiar to me. I was the same way when I was a kid, though I certainly didn't have the vast array of mechanical and computational skill as he did. I looked around and noticed something that was near his computer; it looked like a machine that he was working on, blue in color, and shaped like some sort of bird that I wasn't familiar with.

“What're you working on over there?” I asked, both curious and trying to be friendly with the kid. He was giving me a free Pokedex, after all.

“Oh that? That's my Cram-o-Matic. It's the invention of the century! It's my very own brilliant take on recycling. But it doesn't do a thing right now, since it's out of power. If I just had enough Watts...” He paused. “Hey, actually--! I can give you this Rotomdex if you can do a favor for me!”

I knew there was gonna be a catch. I sighed.

“Sure kid. I can try; what do you want?”

“Watts. All it would take is a measly 500 Watts to get the Cram-o-matic up and running!”

“Watts?” I looked at Lance, and he shrugged. He didn't seem to know what it was either.

“The two of you don't know?! Watts are the energy that you can get from the Pokemon Dens in the Wild Areas. Your Dynamax bands can absorb it whenever you're near one, and then we can transfer that energy into the machine or a battery with a cable!”

I looked at Lance; he was the only one between the two of us that had a Dynamax band.

“We don't have any right now, but would it be possible to pay you back later?” he asked.

Hyde tapped his foot against the ground as he thought about it.

“What are your names again?”

“I'm Sarah, and this is my husband Lance.”

“You're the Champions that my parents invited over for training, right?”

“That's right.”

“You guys are probably more the outdoors type, huh? Well, I'll loan this Rotomdex to you for now, Sarah, so long as you guys promise to pay me when you get the watts. Then it's all yours.”

“Yeah, that doesn't sound like an issue for me. Though, it might be a little bit before we get any. That okay with you, Hyde?”

He began to dig into the drawer again, and finally pulled out a flat, red device, about as wide as the Switch I had packed in my bag. He waved it at me. “No problem. Well, let me know when you've got a Rotom to put into here, and I'll help set you up.”

“If you guys had a PC, I could get that done right now.”

The kid lit up, as though proud to lord this incoming fact over me.

“It just got delivered this morning, while you guys were out doing dad's first trial! I watched the guy set it up.”

Hyde showed me to where the dojo's PC was. I connected to my account and withdrew a Rotom-- one that I had caught back in Sinnoh many, many years ago. It zipped around excitedly when I let it out, like an old friend who hadn't seen me in a long time. I directed it into the Pokedex. The screen lit up a light blue, and two large blue eyes, much like a Rotom's, appeared on the screen.

“Hi? Hello? Hello! It is I, your trusty Rotom, Plasmastar! So good to see you again, Sarah!” The Rotomdex floated around; not nearly as fast as the zippy Ghost-type Pokemon typically was. But it seemed overjoyed nevertheless with its new home.

Hyde grabbed the Pokedex, causing the Rotom inside to give a startled cry. “If you don't mind, I'll help talk your Rotom through proper installation, so it's familiar with how to use all of its components. It'll take at least an hour though.”

“An hour?!” shouted my Rotom, and it tried to pull itself away from Hyde's grip. “I don't have time for that! Please, please, don't leave me with him!”

“Sorry Plasmastar. But please bear with it, so you can help us. I heard you'll be able to read the map really well and be super helpful to us, if you do!”

It stopped tugging. “Super helpful? Say no more, I am glad to be of service!” I'm not sure what it was trying to do at that moment, but there was a flash that went off, temporarily blinding Hyde.

“Oops! Sorry about that, small human! I'll listen, but you better make it quicker than an hour! I want to go explore with Sarah again!”

Lance and I went outside to look around the dojo. Pokemon played in the grass; the groups of Jigglypuff and Buneary from yesterday saw us and ran up, excited to see us again. I reached into my bag and let out the two that I had caught so they could see their friends.

“Ellie, Bunbun! C'mon out!”

The Jigglypuff and Buneary appeared. They looked around while their friends stood in awe for a moment, before clamoring all around them excitedly. Ellie puffed herself up with pride, and began to tell her audience about her battle. She mimed out what happened, eventually getting Bunbun to play the Mienfoo. Though Bunbun was reluctant, she eventually joined in. She got so into it that she was suddenly going off script, including a lowkick when Ellie was supposed to dodge another punch, causing Ellie to bounce into the ground. Angry, the Jigglypuff began to yell at the Buneary, while the other turned around and stuck up her nose. Their audience didn't know what to do at this point, so they wandered away, going back to playing in the grass.

As amusing as it was, it wouldn't do me any good if my two newest members were fighting amongst each other. I walked over and pushed them apart.

“C'mon guys. Bunbun, apologize to Ellie; and Ellie, calm down. You asked her to do something she didn't want to do anyways. This is a consequence of that.”

Ellie huffed and turned away, crossing her arms while Bunbun continued to do so. I sighed.

“Please? If the two of you make up, I'll give you each a treat.”

At the promise of a treat, the two of them looked at me, before turning around and looking at each other. Bunbun smiled and apologized, and Ellie smiled and puffed herself up, as though proclaiming that she was in the right anyways. Bunbun looked away, pretending not to be annoyed by the display. Both of them looked at me, holding out their hands expectantly.

“Hey-- wait, I never said I was going to give you a treat right away! They're back in the Dojo; you'll have to wait 'til later for one.”

Both of them gave me an angry look and turned away from me, arms crossed. Well, at least they were in unison on that.

“Eheh.... Alright, how about the two of you c'mon back.” I held up my Pokeballs and they both went back inside.

“Trouble with your new friends?” Lance asked. He had let Zweilous out while Ellie and Bunbun entertained their audience, and the two-headed dragon was biting onto sleeve of his uniform.

“Nothing that I'm not used to.” I motioned to Zweilous. “On the other hand, I think I should be asking you that, except I know that's just how Zwei is. Did he break through the fabric already?”

Lance laughed and pet both of their heads in sequence, causing each one to finally let go of the loose fabric. He brought up his arm, looking at the sleeve. “No, not yet. He's just hungry. We should go back inside and get something to eat for lunch.”

Everyone had gathered in the dining room once more, with plates and bowls left out in the Dojo's main hall for our Pokemon. Zweilous ran over to the nearest bowl, both of his heads fighting over bites. Pika ran up to the bowl next to him. We let out the rest of our Pokemon, leaving them to eat while we headed towards a spot at the table where we could sit next to each other.

“Thank you, Ms. Honey!” everyone said before digging in. Chatter filled the dining room between bites, and everyone felt so warm and welcoming. No one seemed to begrudge us for having defeated all three Slowpokes, including those who never even got to catch up to one. In fact, many were excitedly speculating about what the next trial might be. I looked around the table, wondering if Hyde had joined everyone, or if he had missed the call to lunch. I couldn't see him. The din of the dining room began to lower as everyone filled up on the food made by Ms. Honey and the students who helped with meal prep. The final peals of laughter and conversation were silenced when Mustard stood up and addressed everyone.

“A-hem. I'd like to congratulate everyone who did their best this morning with the first trial. To those of you that weren't able to pass—may you have better luck next time. Take this time to train up! For those of you moving on to the second trial, I will take the time to explain what your next trial is. Now that you're all energized from lunch--” Mustard paused mid-thought, as though something came to mind.

“I think our second trial should be something to welcome them with. You know what would sound good for dinner tonight? The Master Dojo's secret recipe: Max Soup! Since we have two special guests, I'd love for them to have a bowl of Max Soup full of Max Mushrooms for tonight. And that's why your second trial shall be mushroom picking!” A collective, confused reaction, interspersed with some groans, went out among the students. I blinked, confused myself. How was gathering dinner ingredients supposed to be a trial? If anything, it sounded much easier than the first. Someone whispered to another student that they were glad they hadn't passed.

“Students!” The dining room quieted once more at Mustard's raised voice. “That's better. In case you forgot, or you aren't aware, Max Mushrooms are the key to Gigantamaxing, and I'm tasking all of you with finding three!”

Honey stood next to Mustard, explaining what we were looking for. “Max Mushrooms are red with a spiral pattern. You can usually find them in dark, humid places, such as the forest or Warm-Up Tunnel.”

Mustard, “And with that, your next trial begins! I'm countin' on ya!”

[365days365movies]

May 9, 2021: A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) (Recap: Part One)

Welcome to the future.

At this point, we’ve mostly looked at the past, present, or the near-future (as in, the next ten years, if that). Additionally, we’ve looked either at nonexistent technology in a contemporary setting, or an extension of existing technology taken to a logical next step. But no more. No more realism, no more real-world rules, and nothing that we’re even close to in this reality.

Well...mostly.

That’s genuinely impressive, not gonna lie. Anyway, yeah, from here forwards (for a bit), we’ll be looking at the future and futuristic technology. Now, there are a couple of ways in which these films tend to go. The first big way that we tend to represent the future in film is the same way we always have: flying cars, futuristic technology, smart houses, and robots.

Now, there are countless examples of this future, and it always changes a bit depending on the present. Which, yeah, makes sense. After all, what I’m doing right now, at this moment, would’ve been seen by many people as a massive technological achievement, even around the time that I was born. Which, yes, I’m old, deal with it (because I can’t). Anyway, the way that this begins is with the first major filmed view of a seemingly idyllic future: Fritz Lang’s 1927 film Metropolis.

The overly mechanized (and politically dystopic) society seen in this film, as well as the visuals and technology, would inform our ideas of the future throughout the next century. Multiple themes and common objects reoccur throughout futuristic fiction. You know the stuff I’m talking about. Flying cars, automatic food machines, robotic assistants, video watches, holograms, jetpacks, so on and so forth.

But here’s the thing about the future. It’s always ahead of us, and eventually...well, we’ve gotten to most of those things to some degree. Either they already exist...

...or is currently being developed.

Well, one of them we’re still working on. And the development of more advanced AI is something we have yet to perfect, or even fully develop. However, the development of A.I. (and the consequences of that technology) are ALL OVER science fiction. Sometimes, they’re merely used for flavor to help establish the futuristic setting.

Sometimes, they’re characters with their own agency and conflicts, which may or may not define the plot. In these cases, they’re often simply there to back up the main human characters, and help with their development, and sometimes their own. You know, manic pixie dream robots.

And then, possibly most often, they’re the abject villains of the piece. they can be mysterious alien technology, like in The Day the Earth Stood Still, or a man-made danger that turns on the race that created and/or abused it.

But then, on occasion, an A.I. is given the chance to develop as a character, without being used to define the development of a human character. Sometimes, the question of what life truly means is raised through these characters, and we become attached to them outside of any other character. This isn’t nearly as common as the others, but it’s definitely not unheard of.

And for the record...things don’t often go well for those AIs. But still, some of those characters have quite a lasting impact. So, there’s quite a lot of potential for this type of character, from a dramatic standpoint. And that potential leads us to the guy who made this.

I WILL MAKE A JURASSIC PARK REFERENCE AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE

Steven Spielberg gives us today’s entry, and this director of a classic science fiction story about science gone awry teamed up with the director of a science fiction film where an artificial intelligence went awry. You know, this thing.

I didn’t forget about HAL. And I won’t forget about him later, either.

Director Stanley Kubrick is pretty well-know for his mind-bending films, especially The Shining and 2001: A Space Odyssey. But he also worked with Spielberg on this film before his death in 1999, as this was one of his dream projects for many years, and the two directors were well-known friends.

And so, eventually, Spielberg was given the reins from Kubrick, and results were...mixed. It’s funny, because I’ve never actually seen this movie, but I remember it through its surprisingly widespread ad campaign. I used to go to NYC as a kid a lot, and there was a massive building-side plastered with the iconic logo of this movie. So, I’ve been hovering around this movie for a long time. Enough navel-gazing!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (Part One)

It is, unsurprisingly, the future. A marrator informs us that climate change has caused the ice caps to melt, and global flooding drowns several countries. You could say that it’s a...Waterworld.

I genuinely considered watching that movie at some point, and then I decided I liked myself to much to watch 2 hours of Kevin Costner’s emotionless acting. Granted, it’s not much better now, listening to the emotionless acting of...

Professor Allen Hobby (William Hurt) is a straight-up sociopath. OK, technically, he’s a robotics engineer, but dude’s making a speech, right? He talks about how far robots have come, dissing my boi Deep Blue in the process, and notes that pain-memory response can also be demonstrated by robots. He proves this by stabbing a woman in his audience, like RIGHT through the hand. Jesus, man! Why the hell would you do that?

Oh. Holy shit, I got fooled. Advanced technology indeed. But OK, so Sheila’s a robot, and a very advanced one...to us. But Hobby wants more, and proposes to his workers to make a robot that can really TRULY love. And through love may come a true subconscious, which means making a robot that can dream. And what better robot to make than a robot child? After all, all child conception requires a license in this futuristic world, so many childless couples are yearning for a child.

Which is why, twenty months later, the first robot child is offered to Henry and Monica Swinton (Sam Robards and Frances O’Connor), a couple...with a child. Um. Guys. You JUST SAID that there are legit childless couples who need a child, and those people would be best suited to love that robot child back (a VERY GOOD question raised by one of Hobby’s subordinates). So why give it to a couple whose son is still alive? Yeah, he’s got a rare disease that they don’t have a cure for yet, and is currently in cryostasis, BUT THEY HAVE A KID! Surely, that’s going to be a potential emotional conflict! And what if the kid wakes up or some shit? This is a TERRIBLE goddamn idea. Think this shit through, guys.

And yet...

This is David (Haley Joel Osment), Cybertronics’ first child robot, brought home by Henry to essentially replace their son. Which is AMAZINGLY FUCKING TONE-DEAF AND INSANE, GODDAMN. That’s extraordinarily messed up. And, for the record, I totally get what Spielberg’s going for, but Jesus Christ, man. This was a terrible way to go about this. And it gets fucking WORSE.

See, Henry (who actually works for Cybertronics) tells Monica that, once they sign the papers and complete the updates, David will imprint on them and see him as their true parents, loving them unconditionally. Which...yeah, fuck, that’s an entire DUMP TRUCK of ethics issues right there. And, while we’re at it, David is...creepy as shit. I mean it, dude, Haley Joel Osment is a VERY good child actor, but he’s laying on the creepy robot child thing THICK. And yeah, this is BEFORE he imprints on them. Jesus fuck, man, there’s a scene where the still uncomfortable Monica is outside of a glass door, and he looks back at her THROUGH THE DOOR like a goddamn SERIAL KILLER.

And I gotta tell ya, dude does not lay off that creepy-ass dial one iota. And for that matter, the music by John Williams ISN’T FUCKING HELPING. LISTEN to this shit, and imagine a robot child that you don’t know wandering around your house. It’s amazingly fucking creepy.

AND IT JUST. KEEPS. GETTING. WORSE. There’s a scene where they’re all at dinner, right, and David’s just staring at them as they eat, mimicking their actions. After all, he’s a robot, he can’t actually eat or drink anything because of his internal working. And then, out of FUCKING NOWHERE, he starts laughing like the FUCKING JOKER, and it scares the EVER-LOVING SHIT OUT OF ME. And somehow, they laugh alongside him, in the never-ending Stockholm syndrome that is this movie! And as soon as its over, he just STOPS laughing, spontaneously. Fuck me, man, I’m tempted to stop watching here and now, and I’m only TWENTY MINUTES IN! I need a fucking break.

And after that...OF COURSE she decides to activate his imprinting protocols to make him, let me remind you, LOVE HIM FOREVER! She reads out a series of words, and after “FREIGHT CAR”, he knows his mission is to kill the Prime Minister of Sokovia. But first, he’ll settle down and love Monica unconditionally (again, FOREVER), calling her Mommy and making me shit my pants in fear. IT WASN’T ME, IT WAS FUCKING DAVID

Oh, and by the way, isn’t it kinda shitty to do that without Henry being involved AT ALL? Like, cool, he has unconditional maternal love, but Henry wasn’t a part of that conditioning at all! And he still refers to him as “Henry” instead of Dad! However, Henry definitely doesn’t care about that, because he still sees David as only a robot. Hey, guys, maybe using these two as your first experiment with a robot child WAS A TERRIBLE FUCKING IDEA, YOU IDIOTS! No wonder William Hurt was cast as Thunderbolt Ross in the MCU. Already shown he can play a character with shitty ideas before.

Anyway, after this terrible series of events, David prevents the parents from leaving one night due to his childlike antics. When Monica goes to comfort him, he asks how long she’ll live, and tells her that he hope she never dies, a COMPLETELY NORMAL THING TO SAY. Look, I get that he’s a robot, but only a goddamn emotionless sociopath would program emotional responses like this into a robot. Which, given what we’ve seen of Hobby, makes sense.

In response, she gives him Teddy (Jack Angel), a technologically advanced teddy bear with sentience, a personality, and the voice of Astrotrain from The Transformers TV series. Because, yes, I am THAT MUCH of a goddamn nerd.

Soon after, the house gets a phone call, which David receives...literally. He takes the phone and allows it to speak through him. It turns out that, shock beyond shocks, THEIR SON IS CURED! Yeah, fuck. Maybe giving David to a family with a STILL LIVING SON is a fucking ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE IDEA, for about a thousand reasons.

And, fucking understandably, Martin Swinton (Jake Thomas) is a little upset to find out that he’s essentially been replaced by a robot kid. Although, to be fair, he’s also kind of a dick to David, holding his humanity over him and treating him as a toy that he attempts to manipulate and bully. My Lord, this is a massively stupid idea. And Martin immediately shows his dickishness by asking his mother to read Carlo Collodi’s The Adventures of Pinocchio to them. Which is meant to be a punishment for Pinocchio. However, of course, David loves it.

Still, however, there’s trouble in paradise for David, as he tries to compete with Martin for being a real boy, and eats spinach at dinner one evening. Despite Teddy’s mildly ominous warning to him (”YOU WILL BREAK”), he keeps eating until he basically has a stroke and breaks, forcing him to be repaired by some of Cybertronics’ technicians. Monica has a bit of a break down as a result, which Martin notices. This causes Martin to go pure supervillain, manipulating David to do creepy things in order to insert doubt into Monica about David. Jesus, Martin’s a creepy kid, too. No wonder Monica grew to be cool with David, her actual son is a FUCKING SOCIOPATHIC MONSTER! Are there ANY truly normal people in this world? IS THIS WHAT THE FUTURE IS?

Martin convinces David to cut a lock of Monica’s hair while she’s sleeping. And lemme tell ya, a little boy holding scissors over someone while they sleep is not exactly comforting. Henry agrees, and after stopping him, believes that they need to return him. Monica disagrees, knowing that they’ll destroy him if brought back. But David, ever the semi-sociopath himself, ignores any signs of humanity in David and dismisses Monica's feelings for him entirely. He also says this thing about “IF HE CAN BE PROGRAMMED TO LOVE, CAN NOT HE BE PROGRAMM-ED TO HATE?”, which...no. No, he cannot. He didn’t learn to love, he was programmed to. And, again, that’s ethically FUCKED, but taking that into account...no. HE WASN’T PROGRAMMED TO HATE, HENRY. Goddamn, buddy, use your head here.

It’s Martin’s birthday, and his friends at the pool party expose David to the fun world of anti-robot (or Mecha) racism, and test to see if he has Damage Avoidance Systems by threatening him with a knife. And he does. Buuut, when those systems kick in, he goes to the nearest point of safety to keep himself safe. That point is, unfortunately, Martin, whom he gets behind...and accidentally drags into the pool.

Thing is, because of Martin’s recent illness, he can’t exactly swim, meaning that David almost drowns him. When Henry and other partygoers go to save him, they abandon David in the pool completely. And now, David’s fucked. Because although this situation isn’t even a little bit his fault, he also just nearly killed Martin. And so, after seeing notes that he’s been writing to her, Monica offers to take for a “ride in the country”. Which definitely means something good. In reality, she’s planning on taking him back to Cybertronics. But once in the car, there’s a change in plans. And hear me out...it’s arguably far more horrifying.

She decides to abandon him in the woods completely, despite how hard it is for her to leave him. She’s sparing him from death, sure, but also throwing him into a world he doesn’t understand, and for reasons that he doesn’t understand. It’s genuinely terrible. And then...yeah, she leaves him forever, to an uncertain future.

End Act One.

I think this is a good place to stop. It’s early, and I need more coffee to handle this shit. See you in Part Two. Of Three. Yup. It’s a long one.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XCVI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I will use PoA gifs until I run out of them. Which will be never. Look at Harry and tell me this wasn’t his best look. Tell me he isn’t beautiful I dare you -Danny

Words: 3,295 

Series’ Masterlist

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Listen to: Can’t Help Falling In Love -by Elvis 

Chapter Thirty-One: Daydreams.

"Just go through it again, Harry," said Hermione after they sent Sirius' letter the next morning. "What did Mr Crouch actually say?"

"I've told you, he wasn't making much sense, he said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault... He mentioned his son."

"Well, that was his fault–"

"He was out of his mind," Harry shook his head. "Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions."

"And... remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" Ron shivered lightly.

"I've told you... He said he's getting stronger."

"But he was out of his mind like you said, so half of it was probably just raving..." Ron shrugged, trying to make it like it was no big deal.

"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort. He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore." Harry replied with certainty.

"I just don't understand how he got here," Mel frowned. "It sounds almost as if he was fighting against the Imperio curse, remember? Most of us were just a blabbering mess when trying to come out of it..."

"If Snape hadn't held me up," Harry said in a terrible mood, looking at the owls flying above them, "we might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy, Potter... what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

Mel reached out for his hand in silence and held it as a way of comfort. Harry squeezed back lightly, his eyes still fixed somewhere else.

"Maybe he didn't want you to get there! Maybe — hang on — how fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?" Ron offered.

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something."

"Wouldn't put it past him," Ron muttered.

"Still, why would he attack Krum and not Karkaroff?" Mel inquired. "If you mean to point to the discussions they had days prior, why attacking a student when he could've been directly attacked without anyone noticing?"

"We need to see Professor Moody. We need to find out whether he found Mr Crouch." Hermione sentenced.

"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy."

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds, because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't ��"

"Shh!" said Hermione stopped them.

"— that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that —" A voice said from outside the door.

"— we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did —"

"I'm telling you if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

Fred and George froze at the sight of them.

"What're you doing here?"

"Sending a letter."

"What, at this time?"

"Fine —" Fred smiled, but it didn't look at all like his usual grin. "We won't ask you what you're doing if you don't ask us... Well, don't let us hold you up."

"Who're you blackmailing?" Ron said.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," George said quickly.

"Didn't sound like that," Her friend frowned.

"I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but —"

"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone. George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking. You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect," George walked past them and took an owl, expertly attaching their letter to its claw.

"No, I won't!"

George carried the owl and sent it off through a window.

"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."

"You don't think they know something about all this, do you?" Hermione asked once they were gone. "About Crouch and everything?"

"No, if it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore. You wouldn't be able to find out what they're doing now, could you?" Harry asked her.

"Don't think so," Mel sighed. "Been quiet lately, won't even tell me what they're up to like before..."

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked Ron, noticing his expression.

"Well... I dunno if they would. They're... they're obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them — when — you know —"

"We weren't talking. Yeah, but blackmail..."

"It's this joke shop idea they've got. I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They've only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future, and Dad can't help them, and they need gold to get started."

"Yes, but... they wouldn't do anything against the law to get gold?" Hermione added with doubt.

"Wouldn't they? I dunno... they don't exactly mind breaking rules, do they?" Ron then turned to her.

"Well, not exactly, but this would be thousand times more different..."

"This is the law," Hermione added. "This isn't some silly school rule... They'll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron... maybe you'd better tell Percy..."

"Are you mad? Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch and turn them in... Come on, let's get some breakfast."

"D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor Moody?" Hermione asked them.

"Yes, he'd probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he'll think we're trying to attack him while he's asleep. Let's give it till break," Harry sighed.

Harry was lazily playing with her hair as she laid her head on the desk. She watched him twirl the brown locks around his fingers and letting them slip, he looked focused on the task, his eyes falling from time to time as he kept his head prompted on one hand.

She thought of her conversation with Erick the day before and her heart ached at the idea of this extremely clever and quiet boy not having anyone treating him in the way Harry treated her. Most of all she felt incredibly thankful, overjoyed at the thought of being able to call Harry her boyfriend. If that's what they were.

She tried to say it to herself when she was alone. It sounded a tad fake, after all these years being nothing but a friend, as weird as it sounded, it also caused her great joy, and she could see herself getting used to the word eventually. A month? A year..? Maybe once they were on their seventh year the word wasn't going to be needed, they would just be, and everyone would know.

Harry laid his head fall on the desk softly, and he locked eyes with her in comforting silence. She felt her stomach flutter with anticipation, knowing full well that they were at the back of the classroom so they could be the first to leave and search for Moody. She moved slowly so neither Ron nor Hermione could feel it, and it only increased her need to get closer. Harry knew what she was trying to do and without a second thought lifted his face merely an inch from the table so he could close the distance.

The kiss felt like it lasted an eternity. She held her breath, Mel didn't know kissing felt like this, that a simple act could give so much happiness. She felt him smile against her lips and they parted seconds later, both equally flushed and with matching looks of utter fancy.

The bell rang and they quickly abandoned the classroom. That'd been the first kiss they had shared in public (not counting the awful incident with Erick) and for a second, she questioned herself: Exactly how bad would it be to just do it again, this time making sure their friends could see them. One kiss and they wouldn't have to hide anymore, was it that bad..?

"There he is!" Harry pulled her along to catch up with Moody, bringing her back from her daydreams. "Professor Moody?"

"Hello, Potter," Moody looked at a couple of first-years walking by before adding, "Come in here."

He took them to his empty classroom and closed the door behind them.

"Did you find him?" Harry asked abruptly. "Mr Crouch?"

"No."

"Did you use the map?"

"Of course! Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn't anywhere on there."

"So he did Disapparate?" said Ron.

"You can't Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!" Hermione groaned in exasperation. "There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren't there, Professor?"

"You're another one who might think about a career as an Auror," Moody told her. "Mind works the right way, Granger." Hermione blushed at his compliment.

"Well, he wasn't invisible," said Harry. "The map shows invisible people. He must've left the grounds, then."

"But under his own steam?" Hermione continued, "or because someone made him?"

"Yeah, someone could've — could've pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn't they?" said Ron anxiously.

"We can't rule out kidnap," growled Moody.

"So," said Ron, "d'you reckon he's somewhere in Hogsmeade?"

"Could be anywhere," said Moody, shaking his head. "Only thing we know for sure is that he's not here."

"This might be a bit darker, but..." Mel moved uncomfortably on her place. "What if something inside the forest killed him? The map doesn't show people if they're dead. They told us that last year, remember?" She was careful not to mention any names. "What if his body is still in the forest?"

Moody's eyes flashed in a way it made her wince, she didn't know what that look meant, but it didn't look exactly friendly.

"Now, Dumbledore's told me you four fancy yourselves as investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry'll be looking for him now, Dumbledore's notified them. Potter, you just keep your mind on the third task." Then he addressed Mel directly, leaning back on his chair. "And you, Miss Dumbledore, I assure you we know exactly what to do next."

"What?" Harry's brow lifted, spotting what Moody meant. "Oh yeah..."

"Should be right up your street, this one," Moody continued, his mood finally lifting. "From what Dumbledore's said, you've managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Sorcerer's Stone in your first year, didn't you?"

"We helped," Ron said quickly. "Me and Hermione... and Mel as well."

"Well," Moody grinned. "Help him practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised if he doesn't win. In the meantime... constant vigilance, Potter. Constant vigilance. You two," He looked at Hermione and Ron, "you stick close to Potter, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same... you can never have too many eyes out. And Miss Dumbledore," He smiled. "Use that brain of yours and healthy ears, listen carefully to the people around, see if you can catch something of importance."

Mel nodded silently, feeling uneasy and strangely unable to forget the way Moody's eyes had shifted after her comment.

Sirius sent their owl back the next morning.

Hermione read through the Prophet to confirm nothing about Crouch was mentioned, and then the four of them read the letter:

Harry — what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed.

Your name didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay close to Ron, Mel, and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. There's nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I'm waiting for your letter giving me your word you won't stray out-of-bounds again.

-Sirius.'

"Who's he, to lecture me about being out-of-bounds?" Harry folded the letter angrily and put it away. "After all the stuff he did at school!"

"He's worried about you! Just like Moody and Hagrid! So listen to them!"

"No one's tried to attack me all year! No one's done anything to me at all —"

"Except put your name in the Goblet of Fire, and they must've done that for a reason, Harry. Snuffles is right. Maybe they've been biding their time. Maybe this is the task they're going to get you."

"Not if I can help it," Mel replied seriously. "I'll be there next time."

"Look," Harry said impatiently. Their usual arguments drastically dropped after their relationship improvement, but could still blow up in times of stress like this one. "Let's say Sirius is right, and someone Stunned Krum to kidnap Crouch. Well, they would've been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited till I was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't look like I'm their target, does it?"

"They couldn't have made it look like an accident if they'd murdered you in the forest!" said Hermione. "But if you die during a task —

"They didn't care about attacking Krum, did they?" said Harry. "Why didn't they just polish me off at the same time? They could've made it look like Krum and I had a duel or something."

"Because it wouldn't have made sense!" Mel replied sharply. "A fourteen-year-old simply does not have the power to kill another person, Moody told us this. I doubt Krum has it as well, even if his Headmaster has been teaching him some dirty tricks. It would've been messy and not everyone would've believed it. They're waiting for the right time when it can look like it wasn't planned."

"Look Harry, I don't understand it either," said Hermione. "I just know there are a lot of odd things going on, and I don't like it... Moody's right — Sirius is right, Mel is right — you've got to get in training for the third task, straight away. And you make sure you write back to Sirius and promise him you're not going to go sneaking off alone again."

"But–"

"Harry James Potter," Mel concluded in a voice that sounded too much like her mother's. "We're not doing this because we think you're stupid. We're doing it cause it gives you time to learn. If you want to face whatever is out there right now then do it, but you'll die in a second. Now, if you want to face it and live, then you listen."

Harry glared at her.

"Fine," He finally grumbled. "I'll do it."

"My dears," Professor Trelawney started, "we have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights..."

"I wish she would dim the fire," Mel grumbled, looking at the fireplace with deep loathing. "I'm dying here!"

Once the lights were out Professor Trelawney showed them a miniature model of the solar system. As their teacher started to speak, she felt Harry's body leaning closer to her and when she looked down the boy, slowly falling asleep. Deciding that there was no risk on letting him take a nap, her eyes wandered around, falling on one of the curtains where a pretty insect was making its way up through the fabric.

She found it familiar, but she couldn't quite place from where. The mere thought was silly, an insect was an obvious thing to find familiar, they were all over the school grounds! However, this one had something, she just couldn't place exactly what... Harry groaned in his sleep, Mel barely paid him attention as she ran a hand through his hair to quiet him down so Trelawney wouldn't notice. It seemed to work for a while.

What a bunch of rubbish really, divination wasn't at all what she used to imagine when she was younger, thinking that she could read her future in the stars and guess what steps to take. Nothing was ever that simple.

Wouldn't it be great, though? To be able to read the sky like the centaurs, perhaps there was a way, she just needed to do more research...

What a blessing it was to have the opportunity Dumbledore was giving her, she could satiate all of her doubts and -Harry whined again, this time a bit louder- be wiser than before. She vowed there and then to learn to be patient and to know when the right time for everything was. After all, life wasn't that complicated–

Harry screamed, causing her to almost fall of her chair.

"Harry!"

The boy squirmed in pain until he fell flat on the ground, pressing one hand on his forehead. Mel felt all the blood in her body run cold.

"Harry!" She took a deep breath and focused all her energy into her words. "Wake up!"

Harry opened his eyes at once. She felt the rest of the class standing behind her, his eyes were tearing up.

"You all right?" Ron said from her right.

"Of course he isn't!" Professor Trelawney was beyond excited. "What was it, Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?"

"Nothing," Harry sat up abruptly. Shaking and affected, he looked around as if looking for something.

"Give him space!" Mel pushed a few legs back. "He can't breathe properly if you're all ogling at him!"

"You were clutching your scar!" Professor Trelawney insisted. "You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now, Potter, I have experience in these matters!"

Harry looked up at her, then at Mel. "I need to go to the hospital wing, I think," He said slowly. "Bad headache."

"My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room! If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever —"

"Didn't you hear?" Mel asked harshly as she helped him stand up. "He's probably heat stroked thanks to the way you keep us all locked up here!"

"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure," Harry agreed.

"I'll go with you, can't risk you passing out in the middle of a hall..." She replied, picking up her thing as well as his.

"See you later," Harry told Ron quietly as both of them walked out.

"Glasses," Mel said once they were out of earshot. "What the hell did you see?"

"Hang on," He looked over his shoulder and gave her a sombre look. "Wait until we are in Dumbledore's office."

"It's your scar?"

Harry just stared at her, but it was all the confirmation she needed.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[violetsbaudelaire-archive]

Title: The Cloud That Took the Form of a Demon In My View - Chapter One 

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationships: Background Julie Molina/Luke Patterson

Summary: After the death of her mother and the demonic possession of her father, Julie Molina hunts the supernatural with her best friend Flynn. She pursues a nomadic life until a string of suspicious bathtub electrocutions draws her back home to hunt down a ghost. (Supernatural AU)

It had been a 13-month search and nothing had come of it. Nothing pertaining to the being Julie and Flynn were looking for. They had found and removed varying other supernatural beings but not their target, a demon whose name neither girl knew. Julie was sitting at a desk in a cheap hotel, one of many in the months that had passed. She was looking at the odd happenings around the country as she always did hoping to find a lead on their demon. Where one odd occurrence happened, another wasn’t too far behind and demons usually loved to get into trouble. Flynn had gone out to buy fast food breakfast and hadn’t come back yet. It wasn’t long enough to worry most people but it worried Julie. She tried to logic her way out of worry as she scrolled. There’s probably a long line. There’s always a long line to get coffee before work.

Just as she repeated those thoughts to herself again, she found an article. To most, it could be ruled off as an accidental bathtub electrocution. The problem was this was the third this week, all in the same city: her hometown, Los Angeles. She sighed and minimized the page. They were close to Arizona, a little while from LA but they had no intentions of returning. At least, not until the demon inhabiting her father’s body could be found. If the demon even still had it, Julie thought to herself macabrely. She shook it off. Her dad was still alive, full of demon or not. 

The door swung open and caused Julie to jump out of her skin. Her hand instinctively flew to the cross necklace she had started wearing with her other jewelry since her dad’s possession. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Flynn said, balancing a bag of food and a cup holder in her hands, “There was a long line at McDonalds.” 

Julie dropped her hand. 

“Are you okay?” Flynn asked when she saw her friend’s face. She put the food on the table and came closer to Julie. “Was there something in here?” 

Julie shook her head. “You scared me coming in.” 

“Ghosts and demons don’t use doors,” Flynn said matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, well, someone possessed by them might. Or maybe a witch, vampire, werewolf, or something else.” 

“Anything that comes in here has a death wish. We’re the most badass hunters in America.” 

“Yeah,” Julie said, as if trying to convince herself. Then, she added more confidently, “We are.” 

“Anyway, did’ya find anything?” 

“Yeah. Ghost in LA.” 

“Are you ready to go back there, Jules?” Flynn asked softly. 

“I think so. Besides, it’s been awhile since our last ghost.” 

Flynn didn’t look entirely convinced. “It’s okay to not take this one. Someone else will get it.” 

“No, it’s okay. We won’t be there long.” 

“You’re not going to see your aunt and Carlos?” 

“I’m not ready for that conversation.” 

Flynn nodded. “Are we going after breakfast? Or?” 

“Yeah, after breakfast.” 

Los Angeles was a strange place for Julie. It was her home but it was also the place where she had lost everything she ever had. Returning reminded her of this but also of failure. It reminded her of the empty seats at her graduation. Going home meant she had to accept that her and her little brother were orphans now - not without loved ones but faced with a loneliness that could never end. Julie had to find her father, not just for herself but for Carlos. 

Flynn opened the bag and divvied up their breakfast. Julie pushed her food closer and began to eat, trying to find the bright side of this situation. Flynn was the first to come to mind. Even if the world turned against her, Flynn would be by her side. Her mother, though passed on, was still a bright side. Nothing, not even permanence of death could take her memories of joy and music that they had shared. The possibility of her dad being out there was a bright side. With this in mind, Julie finished her breakfast with her mind more at ease. 

Flynn wasn’t the best driver but she liked to drive nonetheless. Julie was the more capable driver but she was a better navigator. She found it easier to navigate when she wasn’t avoiding drivers worse than Flynn on the road. Being the navigator also meant choosing the music and Julie wanted something upbeat for the road. California had gotten so far from her and Flynn that it would be a day or two before they reached it. It was the longest road trip with few stops they had gone on in awhile. Flynn turned the key in the ignition and Julie scrolled through her playlists. She found a song and selected it just as Flynn pulled out of the parking lot. 

At some point Julie had fallen asleep. She blinked as she took in her surroundings. “Where are we? Flynn, I was supposed to be navigating.” 

“It’s okay. I’m handling it,” said Flynn. “You barely slept at all in the last motel. You needed sleep.” 

“Thanks.” 

After a minute, she added, “I should drive. You need sleep too.” 

Flynn shook her head. “I had a Redbull.” 

Julie gave her friend a look. “Flynn.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll pull over,” Flynn said and she did. Seat belts unbuckled and they switched places. Almost as soon as Julie pulled off the shoulder, Flynn was asleep. Julie looked amusedly at her friend. She drove until the sun rose again and they were just outside Arizona. 

Then it was a quick stop at a gas station to buy a less than satisfactory breakfast. It was time like these Julie missed her mom especially. It was Saturday morning and in a time that was starting to feel like an old movie, she would be watching cartoons with a much younger version of her brother and eating a fresh, hot breakfast her mother had made. 

“I said that’ll be 10.50,” the cashier said irritably. He was the usual sort someone would see at a gas station in the middle of practically nowhere: some old man whose love of life was fading faster than his hair. 

“Sorry,” Julie said quickly, pulling the cash out of her pocket. The cashier checked the money in the light then put it in the register. He slid her breakfast across the counter and asked if she wanted a lottery ticket or a pack of smokes. Yes, he had said ‘smokes.’

Julie made a face and grabbed the black bag her food had been put in. “I don’t smoke, or gamble.” She headed toward the door and added, “Have a nice day” as she went out. He didn’t get the chance to return the formality. Gas station cashiers have a way of making people uncomfortable, even if they do nothing at all. This one was no different. 

Flynn was waiting in the driver’s seat. Julie opened the bag and handed some of the food to her. Neither said anything as they made their way back to the freeway. 

California was a refreshing sight after over a year of navigating unfamiliar places. Los Angeles was especially so. Julie watched the buildings of the Citadel Outlets pass by in the window. She was home. 

The occurrences described in the article had been occurring in a residential part of town made up of mainly middle class families. The victims were disproportionately teens. The types of teens who bring their cell phones into their bathrooms. Julie wasn’t an expert on electricity but these incidents struck her as odd. Not many people got electrocuted in their bathtubs. Based on her Google searches over the past day and a half, a cell phone isn’t enough to electrocute a person in a bath. It has to be plugged into the wall. Then it has to fray or fall into the bathwater. It takes a great deal of stupidity or negligence. Put a ghost in the mix, however, and everything becomes more likely. 

Flynn was checking them into a new motel when the news of a new electrocution came in. This article confirmed Julie’s suspicions of a ghost and made this trip less of a waste of time. Nothing at all had been plugged in when this teen girl had gotten into her tub. Her mother had checked on her only minutes before her death. Then when the police arrived, a frayed extension cord had made its way from a drawer into a socket then into a wall. It was far too strange. And when Julie told Flynn, she agreed. 

Flynn pocketed their room key and they headed for the car. 

Usually Julie and Flynn’s adventures involved abandoned buildings so Julie was unsure what to say when they arrived at the Ford residence. She was too young to be a police officer and too old to be a girl scout. She knocked on the door anyway. 

A distressed middle aged white woman answered the door. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying it.” 

The woman moved to close the door. Flynn interrupted her. “We’re not selling anything, Mrs. Ford, we’re here about your daughter.” 

“It’s Ms. Ford. I’m divorced,” the woman corrected. “And the police were just here.” 

“We’re not police,” Julie said. “We hunt the supernatural. We think your daughter’s death wasn’t an accident.” 

The woman frowned. “I’m desperate but I’m not that desperate. Three boys about your age came around her an hour ago saying the same thing. They said they were looking for a ghost in this neighborhood.” 

“Don’t you think it’s weird four different teens have died the same way in the past week?” 

“Yes,” the woman said. “But teenagers are stupid.” 

“Even your daughter?” 

The woman shrugged. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” 

Ms. Ford went to shut the door again but Flynn stopped her. “Do you know where those boys went?” 

“Something about the junkyard down the road. The blonde one said something about it being a good spot to hide something.” 

“Thank you,” Julie said. “I hope you find answers” - she clutched her cross necklace - “I know what it’s like to lose those you love.” 

Ms. Ford nodded sadly and shut the door. 

“Do you think those boys are trying to find the object the ghost is attached to?” Julie asked Flynn. 

“Yeah,” she said. “But why in a junkyard?” 

“Good place to hide something you don’t want found.” 

By that point, they had made it back to their car and proceeded to get in. 

Then, it was off to the junkyard.

[monkeebratz]

Gotham Seamstress Marinette - Wayne Gala

I should sTILL BE UPDATING BIO!DAD BUT HERE I AM AGAIN

Initial Idea | Uncle Ozzy | Wayne Gala (you are here) |

So we have the whole Cobblepot Crew at the Wayne Gala. Mari is off wondering, scribbling away in a palm sized sketchbook all the ideas this beautiful place is giving her! (She smuggled it, along with Tikki and Sass, in her purse. Its a little crowded but they can snuggle.) Peri is following behind her quietly, smiling to herself. Not that anybody can see. 

Meanwhile Gale and Ozzy have started talking to dear ol’ Brucie boy. At this point, its been a couple years since Ozzy has declared his vendetta and has calmed the fuck down. It also helps that Bruce is not suck a dick about things and Ozzy can relax the stuffy old Gothamite Socialite act around him. They get to talking and Bruce kinda chuckles about how he heard Oswald brought a plus one? Who’s the lucky lady? And he points out Mari, who’s slowly making their way back to the Cobblepot Crew with Peri gently steering her in that direction. And Bruce, dad of all dads, immediately sorta puffs up. “Oswald.” 

“Eh? What, Brucie boy?” 

“That’s your plus one? She can’t be any older than my youngest-” 

“Oh, get your bird-brain out of the gutter! Just doing this as a little favor to the girl, she’s my favorite seamstress, y’know. Made me and the Girls outfits for this little soiree, her own dress too. Figured I’d get her some more... legitimate business, you see. Sweet songbird’s had a rough go, recently.” 

And Bruce is even MORE side eye-ing bc wtf does all THAT mean, Cobblepot? Wtf? Should he be Batman concerned or Bruce Wayne concerned? There’ll be a full blown investigation in the Bat Cave when he gets home from this but for now he puts on a smile as Oswald introduces them. Mari is, of course, completely flustered. What an honor to meet Mr. Wayne himself! The Gala is so pretty, and she’s heard all about his charitable work, she’s such a fan! 

Bruce is kinda blown away by this little French Sunshine Child and gives her the Father Smile, letting her ramble. Ozzy is preening bc hell yes, his Songbird has Bruce Wayne’s approval. Bruce asks about her designs for the Cobblepot Crew and commends her skills. Gets Mari out for a dance and then she’s dancing with everybody! Bruce, Ozzy, the Girls, even some strangers. Its a great time! 

Bruce introduces Mari to Damien, who is unimpressed and bored out of his mind. He can appreciate the aesthetics of Mari’s designs but holds to the idea that she shouldn’t be so willing to design for criminals like The Penguin. Not that he says any of this out loud, of course. Offers to take Mari out for a dance and there’s a lot of Mari apologizing for being such a horrible dancer. (It was one thing with the Cobblepot Crew, who she knew didn’t mind, or Bruce, who seemed so nice. But Damien is sorta angry looking and she’s nervous as hell.) Damien tells her its no problem and manages to lead her around with minimal toe tromping. 

BUUUUUT of course this couldn’t last, right? A certain blonde model boy notices Mari and breaks up their dance. In the middle of the dance floor. Like the oblivious boy he is. 

And you have panicked French as Adrian grabs Mari’s arm and keeps going on about how glad he is to see her! Where has she been, doesn’t she know how worried everybody has been? Mari, how could she leave him like that? Really, he knew she was upset about the little mishap with their identities and his Father, but did she have to throw such a tantrum about it? 

Marinette, meanwhile, is digging her nails into his wrist and trying to get him off of her, practically tripping on her dress in her haste to get away. Adrian still has a firm grip on her arm, though, and she falls back into Damien who, in perfect French, is asking what the hell does he think he’s doing Agreste? And Adrian puffs up and tells him that he doesn’t need to worry about it, its none of his business-! 

(Mari stops panicking long enough to catch Ozzy’s eye and the Girls make their way over with extreme prejudiced. None of them notice Marinette grabbing something from Adrian’s finger and slipping it into her purse. Nobody but Damien.) 

The Girls pull Adrian away from Mari and Damien and there have their claw hands out, making those upset bird coos. Adrian is kicking about and Bruce is getting an explanation from his son, while Ozzy is trying to comfort Marinette. Its a disaster. 

And then. It gets worse. Because Gabriel fucking Agreste notices the commotion and his sons name attached to it and goes over to figure out what the hell is going on. 

He grips the back of Adrian’s neck and shakes him a bit because he recognizes Mari and, of course, apologizes profusely for his behavior Miss Marin-

“Mari. Its... Its just Mari, now.” 

And Gabriel just nods and apologizes again. “Miss Mari, then. I’m sure this incident will not affect our... agreement?” And Marinette shakes her head and Gabriel nods again and drags Adrian off to leave because not only is this embarrassing, this could jeopardize everything! You stupid, stupid boy!

Mari’s scrubbing tears away from her face and Bruce is apologizing profusely, he had no idea she knew the Agreste’s, or he’d have ensured they didn’t have to interact, and Mari tells him its fine, he couldn’t have known. 

Ozzy bundles her up and takes her back to Arthur’s and seethes. The Agreste’s might be having a little accident soon. He drops her off and Mari shuts herself up in her room and slips on the ring and Plagg fizzes into existence and Tikki tackles him and its an emotional night for everybody. 

Because you see, when Marinette has found out Gabriel and Adrian’s identities as Hawkmoth and Chat Noir, she’d panicked, and when she’d confronted Gabriel and learned why he was doing what he did... She helped him. Used her Guardian training, and Tikki, to fix the Peacock Miraculous, and heal Mrs. Agreste. In return, Gabriel gave her both the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculi back, saying good riddance as long as he had his wife back. Marinette agreed to keep this between them, as long as he worked to fixing the damage he’d caused, with the city, its people, and his family. And Gabriel has sworn to, less she go back on her own promise to ensure Mrs. Agreste’s health. 

Adrian had, of course, figured out Marinette’s identity as Ladybug, and what she had done for his family, and gotten... worse. Not horrible, really, but gradually going from not taking her denial of his advances but becoming more and more pushy about it. Because of course they were meant to be together! And idk if any of you have ever dealt with men like this but its awful. Because Adrian doesn’t understand that what he’s doing is only scaring Mari, and the worse he gets, the more scared she gets. The more desperate to get away. And one day, when Fu names her the official Guardian, she does. She flees to Gotham and never looks back, because Fu remembers so little now, and her family had ignored how her love for Adrian had turned into fear. Everybody had. 

So she left. And here she was. 

(As far as the Fu thing goes, I haven’t watched season 3′s finale(s) so please don’t spoil them. The idea of Fu losing his memories has more to do with the fact that he’s almost 200 years old and the human body just isn’t made to last that long, magic or no magic. So he starts losing his memory and doesn’t always recognize Marinette so in a moment of clarity he passes the torch, unfinished training or not. Marianne comes to live with Fu and take care of him, remind him of things. They didn’t have their time in their prime, but they’ll take it now.) 

Tag List! If you’d like to be added, please send me an ask! Just a little easier for me to keep track of that way, lol

@destinationdesignation @xxmadamjinxx @emjrabbitwolf @meg-chi @officiallyathiana @graduatedmelon @seraphichana (I’m so sorry I can’t figure out why it won’t tag you?) @theatreandcomicfreak @beaversuenightly @7701deathlyhalfbloodprincess

[autumnblogs]

Day 43: Openbound

We’ll principally be doing Act 6 Intermission 3 today, so expect lots of pictures in this one!

Believe it or not, I initially didn’t like Openbound very much; I felt like it kind of dragged on my first readthrough, and generally had a pretty hard time getting myself to care about the Dancestors. They’re a pretty unsympathetic bunch.

Then again, lots of Homestuck characters are pretty unsympathetic! I’ve been really feeling that in the second half, as retrospect allows me to view a lot of secondary characters through the lens that we’re not intended to get attached to them.

That said, Openbound is actually pretty key to helping us understand the second half of the comic, I think, and makes explicit a lot of the themes that it explores, and how it builds upon the first half.

I think that the theme of Openbound as a self-contained work within Homestuck that we can use as a tool to decode Homestuck can be concisely stated like this; “Nostalgia and a desire for unity with the past causes toxic stagnation.”

So, aside from the introduction that we’ve already gotten to Meenah through the short conversation she had with the other kids, this is our first real opportunity to get to know her! Boy is she obsessed with money.

Money, like Cake, is a symbol that is associated with the Aspect of Life. As an aspect principally associated with Raw Power - the power to do what you want, unfettered by the stringent restrictions that are associated with Doom - it’s natural that Life would be associated with money.

The origin of money in history is pretty nebulous; it precedes the invention of writing, so any theory concerning its invention is ultimately conjecture. What I think is interesting about money is that the move toward a monetary economy in history mostly (but not always) happens as a result of the fact that it is way more efficient to collect taxes; the state mints standard coins, only accepts taxes in the form of standard coins, and propagates them into the economy by buying goods and services from the market.

It’s a tool of government, and even though Meenah may abrogate her inheritance, the Princess can’t escape her birthright. Money offers control, security... and power. What makes all of this extra interesting is that money is effectively worthless in the afterlife. Here, there’s actually nothing for her to really buy or spend it on; anyone can dream up whatever they want with ease.

It’s a nice bit of callback humor that Meenah has the same reaction to discovering the Thorns of Oglogoth that Rose does, but unlike Rose, Meenah actually does destroy them on the spot.

For being so headstrong and dangerous, there are ways in which Meenah is really pretty surprisingly sensible.

Lord English can destroy ghosts - this has always been a pretty disturbing thought for me. I may have said something to this effect before, but if I haven’t I’m a free-thinking Theist - raised in the Church, and largely independent in terms of beliefs, but I’m still pretty convinced that there is some kind of life after death. It doesn’t bother me nearly as much in works that have final death as a general presupposition, but it always bothers me when some kind of eternal life after death exists in a setting, and can be arbitrarily denied by evil beings with some power or another, like how some Demons and Liches can destroy or devour a soul in Dungeons and Dragons.

In Homestuck though, it fits with the themes established by the ways in which everyone God Tiers - spiritual power can be pretty arbitrary, and generally signifies very little about the moral worth of the one who has it; it does not intrinsically elevate the one who has it. It fits with its general criticism of power and the powerful, whether that’s the Mayor’s hatred of Kings, or the associating of corporatism with the worst parts of Jane’s characterization and Crockercorp in general.

Lord English has the power to destroy ghosts and end the lives of immortals not because he has attained to any kind of heightened spiritual awareness. He’s just some douchebag who through cosmic serendipity was in the right place at the right time to become basically all-powerful.

I adore Meenah’s spark. Who gives a fuck if Lord English is invincible? She knows exactly what she’s going to do when she gets her hands on him, and she’s got a plan from the outset. I think it’s also interesting the way that even though Meenah is absolutely taken by the spectacle of power, it isn’t sufficient to make her want to join up with English. Only soft power works on Meenah Peixes; emotional intimacy, friendship... keeping her entertained. All of these are the actual way to moderate her violent and dangerous personality.

While neither Rose nor Meenah is a parallel character to either Gendo or Rei from Neon Genesis Evangelion (I think, actually, that Dirk is the character who most strongly parallels both of them), this bit reminds me of the way that Ritsuko describes both of them;

Rose says of herself and Meenah, “You’re not very good at this, are you? ... talking to people.”

Ritsuko says of Gendo and Rei, “They’re not very adept (at)... living, I suppose.”

The same can really be said of a lot of characters in Homestuck, particularly the ones who primarily find their identity in some form of power-seeking. Whether it’s Rose, or Dirk, or Meenah, or even someone as innocuous as Jake, none of them is particularly adept at living.

Rose is pretty conciliatory with Meenah; given her attraction to danger and darkness, it’s probably not surprising that she makes such an obvious pass at Meenah in spite of the fact that she probably knows what their relationship was in another life.

Further evidence that Rose is the horniest Homestuck character.

“you know how it is with ancestors

they just kind of hold this inexplicable power over you”

Dave continues to progress down the path of not giving a shit, as did Sollux before him.

He’s not quite to the level of reluctance that he eventually adopts, of choosing to just not engage with English at all.

Gods are, to some extent, aware of the various narrative forces that govern their existence.

About the only thing this piece of nasty trash has in common with Karkat is the extent to which they both blabber, and he helps create contrast with the other, somewhat more likable dancestors. Kankri is pretty much openly contemptible, and really in the worst way. I’m almost inclined to call him a concern troll because of the extent to which his verbal essays exist purely to make him feel better about himself. Any time it comes time for him to listen to people who historically actually suffered from the systems they were involved in, Kankri shows his true colors, slut-shaming and misogynistic.

Unsurprisingly, The Other Thief is also the vector for English’s ideology in her session, “turning us against each other to make us stronger.” While Kurloz may be a worshipper of English, and Damara may have thrown in her lot with the demon because of her nihilistic despair, Meenah (rather like Dirk!) is clearly driven toward a life of violence, and restless action for its own sake.

Now we’re starting to get some insight into Feferi’s style of rulership, which in turn, probably gives us some insight into Jane. For Feferi, leadership means taking power away from the people you’re leading if it seems like they have the potential to hurt themselves (or to be a drain on society if left to their own devices). It represents a violation of agency, perhaps not so severe as the kind that Vriska perpetrates usually.

Feferi and Jane are the sort of people, I think, who want to create a perfect world - but it’s important to them that they’re the one who’s creating that world, and less important that the world is perfect for anyone in particular. Just perfect.

https://homestuck.com/story/5288

John’s whole self-conception, and especially his conception of himself as a man, and someone who might be growing up to take on the same roles as his Father, is tied up in the icons of dadliness and masculinity in the movies that he likes.

So we should expect that his disillusionment with his past will change the way that he thinks about his future, and what he’s going to do with it. It’s a shame that this line of questioning never goes anywhere in Homestuck proper, but I’ll use it as evidence in the “John/June Egbert is trans” folder. Reminds me of how my decisive lack of affinity for the Boy Scouts serves as a nice little retrospective bit of evidence in my own trans narrative.

Based on the number of trans Eagle Scouts I know, I feel like there’s a certain extent to which it be like, a fast-track to figuring that out about yourself, like, you tried all the boy stuff and just decided, nope! Not for me.

https://homestuck.com/story/5290

Man, especially if we continue to read this section of Homestuck as conflating the characters and the audience, this whole section reads as John not just having a meltdown about Con Air, but also generally having a meltdown about his own story so far - everything he’s done in Sburb, etc. It just all feels lame and shitty in retrospect, when it was something that was kind of exciting at the time, at least up until the point where his loved ones all dropped dead there at the end.

It turns out that there was nothing particularly edifying about John’s suffering.

https://homestuck.com/story/5300

Teens can be such monsters. It’s the anniversary of Bro’s Death too. Davesprite is probably as broken up about that as John is about Dad, but it’s hard for boys/men to talk about that kind of thing with each other.

Cronus is even more of an incel than Eridan. He may be the most singularly contemptible character in Paradox Space. Do I hate anyone more than Cronus? No, I think I do not.

I won’t have a lot to say about the middle leg of Openbound; it’s relatively empty of substance, and not much that happens in it is ever relevant again compared to the first and second legs.

I like to think that this leg of the journey is, more than anything, a chance to ruminate on some joke characters who were already parodies; parodies of parodies, a joke made at the expense of an existing joke. The kind of thing Dirk Strider would write, basically.

Hey check it out, the Year of Our Lord 2012, and Andrew was starting to show some mild sensitivity in his choice of words. Just mild enough to have the lowest character in the story show a tiny bit of sensitivity himself.

This leg of the adventure does give us some more insight into Meenah’s character. Just like Vriska, she’s all about being a hardass super-murder, until she starts causing problems for the people she actually cares about.

Being Evil Sucks.

This is a really weird sentiment for Karkat to have in light of like, everything else about the latter half of the comic. I mean, he hasn’t exactly had the epiphany yet that the ideas that he has about being a leader are kind of awful and shitty, so it’s possible that he’s talking the Condesce up to avoid thinking about that. IDK.

He also immediately claims he’ll leave behind the meteor to go and join Meenah’s army, so maybe Karkat is just in a pretty low place in general? That tracks.

Karkat’s little conversation with Terezi explains at the two thirds mark of Openbound exactly what this whole thing is about.

Almost the entire second half of the comic is about examining the character’s guardians, and their relationships with them. The Guardians - Grandpa and Bro especially - are hyped up to be these outrageous badasses, both in-and-out of universe, and their ambivalent relationship with their kids creates this ambiguity throughout the comic about whether the kids are worthy, whether they’re living up to their parents’ legacy - and it’s the kind of thing that plagues them throughout.

But the thing is, Ancestors can be lame, or even terrible. They’re not really anything to aspire to, and the image of success that they project onto the world is one of learned confidence, and usually that only if they’ve really managed to make it.

Even the best parents are flawed, and instead of trying to measure up to them, growing up healthy usually means learning what those flaws are, and committing not to reproduce them.

Parents don’t suck; they can be awesome, and generally speaking, for a long part of our life, they’re all we’ve got. It’s hard not to love them. But we shouldn’t turn them into idols.

(On another note, it’s one hundred percent fitting for Terezi’s Ancestor to be an outrageous coolgirl. Terezi is perpetually anxious about being cool enough, the sort of person who is breathlessly fun to be around, who commands the attention of everyone around her, and she’s surrounded by them wherever she goes.)

https://homestuck.com/story/5340

John’s distress leads him to dream about his dead Dad, and boy is he angry. He spends a lot of the second half of the comic seething in rage directed at whomever is responsible for all the suffering he and his friends endure, dishing out beatdowns toward those responsible, but I’ve never gotten the impression that these little outbursts of his are particularly rewarding for him.

https://homestuck.com/story/5358

That was quite a blow. He knocked out like a tenth of Jack’s health bar.

https://homestuck.com/story/5387

Depending on where you’re standing some really totally different things can matter to different people. From Vriska’s point of view, the things that happened back when she was alive totally don’t matter at all anymore - only the matter of Cosmic importance that is fighting Lord English.

But the stuff that matters to the people she left behind, and the suffering she’s responsible for - especially for putting Terezi in a position where she had to slay her - all of that still matters very much to the people who are alive, which is what makes her self-conception as someone who is on the side of the angels now really... not sit well.

She clearly hasn’t changed all that much. She just thinks, as usual, that now that things are even, now that the score is settled, things can go back to the way they were before.

https://homestuck.com/story/5388

Tavros and Vriska are really bad for each other in general. Like, it’s not good for her to be around someone as pliable as Tavros is, and it’s plain to everybody that it’s not good for him to be around her either; whenever he’s around her, he apes her bogus inflated self-esteem in all the worst ways.

https://homestuck.com/story/5397

Tavros’ explanation of what Vriska does suggests that storytelling has become kind of a ritual for her - a means by which she is attempting to connect with her Ancestor, by performing the same actions she is, miming her - still the same old Vriska.

That’ll be all for now. Cam signing off for now - join me for the thrilling conclusion to Openbound tomorrow, Same Cam Time, Same Cam Channel.

[quaintqueer]

I don't know what you think about labels, maybe you are the kind of person who watches shows like Marie Kondo where they organise people's houses and put sticky labels on everything so that you can easily identify the contents. Maybe you're the kind of person who does not like to be labelled or stereotyped. Maybe you prefer to be just yourself.

I have had a very complex relationship with labels and identity. You could say that I started off on the wrong foot. My mother went to a Baptist church on Sunday morning and a Charismatic/Pentecostal hands-in-the-air, shouting and screaming, spiritual warfare kind of church on Sunday night. And my dad had his Holy Communion as a kid and then went to mass on Easter and Christmas.  So to begin with my labels were numerous and incongruent which did cause some issues for younger Zoe.

And I want to share with you about where God has led me through the understanding of this topic. I am not entirely sure where to start and I'm not sure how vague to be here but let's just say that at least the draft will be an explicit and partly chronological one.

12 year old Zoe I went to church most Sundays with her family and she was very very lucky to have a wonderful Christian friends in her life and at this point the label attached to her as a daughter was the unproblematic child and at school she was the sweet and friendly member of the God Squad or Singing Christians depending on how you asked. But those were the kind of labels that existed around that time.

What happens though to 12 year old Zoe is that she falls madly and instantaneously in love with her best friend. And almost immediately she thinks ‘am I in love with this girl? that must make me gay.’ And being a part of the circles that I was in a fairly conservative Christian family and a fairly conservative Christian School with Christian friends in that Christian school, I said ‘absolutely not. I don't want to have to deal with that.’ I was never hateful towards gay people in general I just thought I just didn't want to deal with it myself. My mum and I had had conversations about it when the plebiscite happened, and whenever we spoke about it, it was very much about ‘the gay people’ as opposed to anyone we knew or loved, let alone a Christian person, and so this whole gay thing wasn’t really thought about. Ao a few times over the next 2 or 3 years so I would ask, ‘am I in love with this girl’ And I always concluded ‘no no no you can't be in love cos you're not gay’.

By the time I’m about 14, I’ve been awoken to all different kinds of social justice movements, I took sociology, I’m going to save the world. THe labels I proudly wear are things like left wing, passionate, an ally to many different communities, in particular the lgbtq+ community.

Zoe at one point goes ‘frick frack, I'm definitely in love with this girl’. and because of the way that this world really loves labels, this was completely synonymous in my mind with being gay. My first response was probably because I'm bisexual so now that is an importand confusing label Zoë is wearing. I have somewhat fond somewhat mortifying memories of sitting on the Shinkansen, the bullet train, from Tokyo to Kyoto next to my dad doing every single ‘Am I gay’ quiz I could find online. Throughout this trip to Japan, I’m really testing the waters and every single younger woman I saw I was like ‘Is she cute? Am I attracted to her? Would I kiss her?’ and so that experience made me very nervous because I had still grown up with the mindset that if people were gay it was ok but they weren't Christian. And I was a Christian, so I just ignored it really. And this turned into a time of me hypersexualising sll of the boys that I had ever thought I had a crush on. I can quite confidently say that I didn't actually have a crush on many of them, I just thought that that was something that I should do. So there was a lot of ignoring this feeling.

We then reach year 10, 2020, a glorious year. In the first Lockdown, I finally caved and downloaded Tik Tok. The thing about Tik Tok is that it comes with its own world of labels, and I really would enjoy the kinds of conversations about what side of Tik Tok you are on. I loved that your For You Page automatically gave you certain labels to wear as a Tik Tok user, and I loved that those applied to real life. I quite quickly ended up on gay Tik Tok, among other things. I was also very firmly on Black Lives Matter Tik Tok, on disablrf Tik Tok, on Indigenous Tik Tok, so on and so forth. But much of my content was about the lgbtq community and this opened a ahole can of worms. I, at this time, carried a lot of shame for my attraction to women. For a bit of a backstory, I had been so severely heartbroken by this girl - not by her own intentional actions, I think that she was never going to feel about me the way that I felt about her and that was not her fault - but I was so seriously heartbroken that not only did I hold this moral shame but also this like emotional shame of my attraction to women. I felt like it was not a good thing morally and it didn't feel good emotionally because I had to still been really hurt about this girl and I have never really gotten over that. So for the first time on gay Tik Tok, I saw queerness and same-sex attraction as a positive thing not only in terms of ‘hey look these are women loving woman relationships that are working well’ but also ‘whether or not you're dating someone, queer identity is good for you and it's fun to talk about’. And as a type 4 on the enneagram, I love to feel special - not to say that I fabricated these feelings or that any queer person is queer for attention - but I think a big part of me felt validated or special because of my feelings and my queeness. It was like a new club that I could join. And so the labels that 15 year old Zoe wears largely consisted of queer. We had it dropped bisexual a little bit because at this point I was not sure if I like men at all and so we identified as queer or sapphic or bi or lesbian or gay - many of these words along with the left wing, Pro Black-lives-matter, pro-feminism, pro-lgbtq+, anti-colonialist anti-capitalist etc. etc. And I don't want to demonize any of those things - they are not at all negative things, I'm just painting a picture of the different labels that I wore.

Through out starting to come out to my friends and existing for longer periods of time not only on gay Tik Tok but now really searching all through the Internet for more LGBTQ+ identity - as I tried to confirm my traction for women, as I tried to decide about my attraction to men, about what label I should wear, and what it's like being in the LGBTQ+ community different, spaces where we interact, different identities and labels and experiences of queerness. So I really tied myself to this identity and it is I think so much because of the way the world sees labels as I said and so my first response was ‘well if I like girls I must be gay and if I'm gay I must identify that way and that has to be the most important thing about me’ because all the people I was seeing online really loved being gay. They were proud of their identity in their queeness. In the world as much as I think that we like to think we’ve got this ‘your sexuality or your gender identity doesn't matter. Gay and straight and bi and pan and whoever you are, we’re all human’, I think it often the world does like to draw those lines on both sides. Within queer communities there was - obviously ironically and satirically - this heterophobia honestly. (I'm joking!) But there was a real pride in this identity of whichever specific label you wear as well as the wider lgbtq plus label which led me to believe my sexuality was who I was. And that proved really quite awkward because I knew that my church and my family and many of my Christian friends believed that same sex marriage and romance was sinful. Because of the strong connection between my identity and my sexuality, if my sexuality was sinful, that meant that I was inherently and completely sinful and I didn't like that. It wasn't a fun feeling. After all of the years of learning about God’s gift of grace to us, kind of I lost in the crevices of my mind and whenever I thought about God I was met with feelings of shame and fear and dread and resentment sometimes even anger and I grew to be so despairing.

Eventually I tried the various progressive Christianity movements that teach that ‘God doesn't actually say the being gay is a sin, the Bible is pro queerness and don't even worry about it, God made you exactly the way that you are and he loves you the way that you are, go forth and have that lesbian relationship that you so desperately want’. But that never really sat right with me. It brought up other questions of ‘well if the current translation of the Bible says things like marriage is between a man and a woman, God made man and woman, any sex outside of marriage is sinful, or even the parts that say that ‘homosexuality is sinful, or man lying with man in certain translations, is sinful what happened to that part of the Bible?’ And of course I heard the response about how at the Bible was written by man and not by God and that it is fragile and can be manipulated and basically King James ruined the whole Bible when he wrote that translation and you don't have to listen to it. But that really didn't work for me. If that part of the Bible had been mistranslated how could I know that the rest of the Bible hadn't been mistranslated? If words like homosexuality weren't in the original text and they had been added there or mistranslated how could I understand the words like grace and love and hope and patience and kindness and peace and righteousness and holiness and justice? What if they were mistranslated? What if the whole Gospel was not how it was written in the Bible because the Bible was man-made? Pretty immediatelyI decided I couldn’t really understand a Christianity where homosexuality is not a sin because Christianity is written in the Bible and the Bible says that quite clearly. I believe that the Bible is directly the Word of God, that it is perfect, that the way that it is translated - obviously different translations vary - but that it is right from God’s mouth so imediately was like I can't believe in it Christianity where homosexuality is not a sin and so I've got to pick Christian or Gay.

And I didn’t want to choose Christian because I had this point has grown quite fond of being gay and I mean, I was truly just attracted to women, right, like I wanted a girlfriend and so I tried really hard to ignore God. I was still going to church, twice or three times a week and all that, and I could not shake the existence of God. I knew God existed. I knew that He created the world, that He was good and that they was the thing called sin that separated us from him. I knew that sin led to death. I knew that He had sent His Son to bridge the gap between himself and sinners. I knew that Son was Jesus and that He died on the cross and he rose again and I knew that if you believed in him you would spend eternity with God which was a really good thing. I could not shake those feelings, all those beliefs, and I absolutely praise God for that. I'm so beyond grateful that God did not leave me, even when I hated him and resented him and felt so much anger towards him. Praise Jesus!

All this left me thinking, well some people could go to heaven, but God hates me because of my feelings. He does not want me part of His kingdom if I'm gay. I can't ever go to heaven because I'm a sinner, and sinners don’t go to heaven. I truly don't know where all my years of learning about the grace of God had gone. This led me to a really distressed position, probably one of the lowest ever my mental health had been. I was just not coping and I ended up being kind of forced to tell my mum. I don't really want to say too much on this part of the story but by the middle-ish end of year 10 I ended up coming out to my mum and she told my dad, ‘cause I refused to do it myself, and then I got a therapist. Finally, now that my mum knew, I could ask her what I had so desperately wante to ask her - if she could please buy me some books about being gay and Christian. And so she did. And I slowly but surely started to read them, I started to read my Bible more and I started to really search for what it meant to have faith trust in God’s grace and not in your own work, not in your own actions or thoughts or words. The first book I got in particular was really hard to read it was based more on specific Theology and not on personal experience and I needed that foundation in what God really said because I had just had conversations with my mum and she had reminded me ‘God is real and he loves you and he sent his son to die for you and that is an option for you as much as it is for anyone else, your queerness does not separate you from Christ's death and resurrection’. There is a wonderful bible verse that became very important to me at this time. Romans 8, the very end of the chapter, says ‘for I'm convinced that neither death not life neither Angels not Demons need of a present or the future and or any Powers neither height nor depth nor anything else in All Creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our lord.’ So with this in mind, I decided that I could trust God and now I just needed to learn how. so I worked away through different books, through different parts of the Bible, praying really hard, searching online and asking really hard questions to some really awesome Christian women in my life, and asking God to reveal to me exactly what he thought about me and about queerness and so eventually we get to the present moment. I by no means know everything that I wish I knew, but now I can say that I wholly trust God with my next life - I trust that he has the power and the strength and the holiness to overcome even my sin which sometimes feels like the biggest there is. and I trust him with this life - that life with him is so much better than any lesbian affair I could ever experience.

I want to personally apologize to any one who the church or the world has ever made believe that they are somehow exempt from God’s love because of who they are or what they've done or how they’ve felt. That is false. There is no one that does not sin, no one that is not inherently separated from God. And there is no one who is too far from Jesus' power to be saved from that sin. God is bigger than your sin, I promise you.

I want to take this time to mourn for the lives lost and the joy and peace forfeited because of the way people who claim to know God treat queer people. I'm sorry if you have been made to feel less than because of the church. In the process of overcoming of guilt and shame that I have felt over the year, one more verse that I found really important. 1 John 1 says that ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives.’

So for me, I don't identify with my sexuality. I don't want to say that I'm straight now, that's not really true. but my sexuality is not what makes me who I am. I am a person fearfully and wonderfully made by God and I am a daughter of God in Christ. I am not ashamed of my feelings. I do think that it is worth mentioning that an attraction or a desire or an impulse is not the same as a sin. The Bible tells us that Jesus himself was tempted in every way and the Bible also tells us that Jesus is blameless and never sinned. And so I think it's worth the clarification that same-sex attraction or anything like that is not sinful itself and also that being gay is never worse than anyone else's sin, and it is never ever bigger than God.

I just want you all to know that there is nothing that you have done that makes you exempt from God’s love for you, to know that he is trustworthy, that the Bible is trustworthy, and I encourage you that your value is inherent as a person made in God’s image and that with Jesus, you can have identity in his son alone. When he sees you, he sees the goodness and perfection of Jesus if you believe in him.

[ghoestys]

i’m literally pulling this out of my ass so if there are errors and stuff doesnt make sense then please myob and pretend like u understand what im saying im trying to do this before i get caught not doing hw he comes at 6 n its 5:43 rn 

statistics

full name: suzy nora yoon nickname(s): su, suz (pronounced like snooze without the n)  age: twenty three date of birth: tba! hometown: tba! gender: cis female religion: athiest sexuality: bisexual hair colour: black/dark brown eye colour: brown height: 5'5″ tattoos: tba! piercings: tba!

prompt + blackmail

a member of the yale's elite, they're twenty-three and a senior undergrad student majoring in aviation engineering. they are as gregarious as they are aimless.

TW DRUGS!  1. to pay for yale's very expensive tuitition, suzy sells weed that's both fake and real, depending on who is buying and if she likes them. she's not a good seller, though, so this hasn't been the best form of income for her. 2. got accepted into the aviation engineering program, but suzy can't complete her homework without the help of drugs to keep her mind focused and creative enough to understand the problems

about 

family/upbringing/childhood/wtvr

so! literally pulling this out of my ass and making things up as i go! suzy was born in a family with her parents (mom & dad), her older sister, and her older brother. the family was strictly middle class and her parents and siblings were very hardworking. her siblings were good at what they did and they excelled in their academics because they tried hard and all that stuff!

growing up, suzy followed her siblings and her parents and was basically a gifted child from the very start. elementary and middle school was not hard for her and she was in all the advanced and gifted programs. the family was calm and there wasn’t anything drastic that removed the peace or caused any disruption at all. like. they were just chillin. 

i think suzy had an average relationship with her parents. they were still asian, so like... it’s as good as it was going to get. she was somewhat close to her siblings, but seeing as they were 5/8 years older than her, the age gap wasn’t that welcoming to the baby of the family. she was kinda just.. having fun on her own being smart n shit. 

anyways! high school! where all gifted kids literally come to die! due to her shit from elem & middle school, she was offered a full ride scholarship to some prestigious school and as asian parents, they were NOT going to reject that free ride to a school that would help ensure suzy’s success in the future. she went from being one of the smartest kids to being another burnt out gift child and high school was fucking ROUGH! 

bitch really had a fucking crisis and burned the fuck out. her not being the smartest bitch anymore literally killed everything in her and she just stopped being that. she met people and what do u know! got into the wrong crowd where drugs and alcohol was everyones bff! 

she got into that pretty heavily by sophomore year i would say. she was just. yea. 

i mean. she was burnt out  but her grades were still fine if u saw them. studying isnt hard for suzy and shes pretty smart, but she wasn’t at the very top of her class anymore and thats what killed her. instead of having straight a’s, suzy was getting b’s and a few c’s. in a family where anything other than an a was acceptable it really just killed suzy some more 

anyways! drugs and alcohol! made her feel good so she did it. she found that weed was the best thing as well as some tranquilizers/anything that relaxed her essentially. she just liked the feeling of floating n not caring or feeling any pressure like. she wanted to b in her own world n shit. 

college/the elites

after graduating high school, she didnt apply to college right away because honestly? drugs and alcohol and a bitch didnt care by her senior year. her grades were not the best and while she couldve gotten into college, she literally had no interest for college and her parents at this point baiscally disowned her so like? who the fuck is gonna pay for her college??

her work ethic is the worst bc shes so careless like. bitch had a shift from 1-7pm and showed up at 5 because she literally didnt feel bothered enough to show up.

anyways a year or so after graduating high school (idk the math rn) she got really high off something and just. did a whole ass application to yale bc she decided to apply for the shits n giggles. wrote a fake letter of recommendation, wrote killer essay and personal reflection shit or wtvr, and even submitted the application with an attached document of her outlining an entire airplane that wouldve been fully functional except for a few tweaks n shit that was needed

she some how got in from that (this is fake this would probs not b real <3 teehee) and bc she was now accepted and going to yale (she accepted high aha a theme for her), she had to think about how to fund for this shit so she decided to get into drug dealing!

which is honestly. not going good like a bitch again has poor work ethics so her as a drug dealer is so.... she literally got into it bc of euphoria bc it looked easy but doing it... is not easy at all but its her only form of funding so she’s doing it. kinda. loosely. please fire her. 

idk where to put this but. suzy is kinda like that girl from the queens gambit where she feels like she needs drugs to function so like she ditches class but she’ll do all her assignments nicely bc she thinks the drugs give her superpowers to b smart n at the top of her academic class again

when shes under the influence of anything she feels like she can function more or like her life is just... better when shes not sober and ull rarely really see her sober like shes usually just on something 

idk where the post is rn bc im too lazy to look for it bc i jsut got a text that he was coming now but!!! its the tweet where a guy was drunk n drew up an entire blue print of an airplane and that is literally fucking suzy i swear to god 

when shes high she’s like the smartest bitch around (shes smart without drugs but doesnt believe that) and can build airplanes n blueprints n solve maths n wtvrs

suzy is truly an asian stem bitch and the sciences and math is where she excels the most!!!! probs won awards n competitions for math and science but doesnt really acknowledge that much becase like... its just not something shes focused on

got into the elites by just making a blueprint of a plane from scratch infront of the twins like. legit just went infront of them, started making the blueprint from scratch to finish n gave it to  them saying here is a blueprint for a new private plane u guys can build for urselves 

personality 

personality wise she is very friendly n goofy n chill n chaotic 

literally a dumbass n honestly really annoying just ask orion 

shes just a stoner having fun doing her life n not really caring about anything like. how she made it to senior year who the fuck knows i really  dont honestly

i think the main way to describe her is bimbo like thats it 

not really into sharing her life and is more of a listener than a talker when it comes to conversations that are genuinely deep and personal. she will not talk to u about her problems and insecurities seriously (maybe she’ll do it in a self deprecating way) unless she trusts u w her life. otherwsie she will keep it to herself n prays that her stoner part will make people believe shes just chillin w no problems

when it comes to conversations about  nonsense n fake deep shit like what is air then suzy will not shut the fuck up like if u wanna talk to someone about nonsense then suzy is truly ur bitch like. a bitch can fucking talk 

doesnt mind being alone bc she has fun on her own but she prefers company more bc she likes having fun and having someone to accompany wtvr she does. whether its for smoking/drinking or hanging out but also just for like... going to class if she chooses to attend and doing everyday errands like groceries or wtvr. she doesnt really do groceries tho bc she just steals orions fodo but when she does choose to go she likes having people with her :) 

she doesnt have a passion for anything bc she doesnt dream of labor but the closest thing about b making airplanes or helicopters like. blueprints  come easy to her n she enjoys making them bc she feels like shes actually capable of something bc shes aware that making them isnt something everyone can do 

u can treat her like a dumbass n she wont call u on it even tho shes kinda smart bc she feels like shes a dumbass

most likely has bad self esteem and feels like a failure but uses drugs n alcohol to ignore that feeling :) 

probs the least judgemental person ull ever meet bc she really doesnt care about what u do like. she hears the secrets getting outted n she doesnt care there r high chances that she’ll still look at u the same way

[rustic-space-fiddle]

Things about Five that terrify me + some other things I noticed

He snapped a mop handle and shanked a baddie with it

he casually pulled his tie from around the baddie he strangled and put it back around his own neck like he was getting ready for work or something

He used a bargain mart trowel as a lethal weapon

He just pulls guns out of knowwhere?? Like his dads rifle????? When even??? That handgun he threatened the handler with??? Where did he get that???? Who is your dealer, Five??????

He sewed up his own gunshot graze with only minimal wincing (and then put a cute little bandaid over it, bless him)

He literally pulled out a knife, cut himself open, rummaged around under his skin like he was looking for the tv remote in the couch cushions, and pulled out the tracker chip like it was nothing

He heard one of the baddies groaning so he wandered over, crouched down, and snapped the guys neck??? With his little child hands??? I know he’s almost 60 in his head but just the image of this kid snapping a guys neck as if that was just something he does on a daily basis????? Holy heck that’s terrifying

His gremlin smile. Was his dad the Joker or something??? Good gravy

He pulled an eyeball out of a dead man’s hand, not knowing it was a fake eye at first and not even being a hardened assassin yet

He called killing the rando who apparently causes the end of the world “basic math”. Like I totally get what he means, but once again: FROM THE MOUTH OF A CHILD IT WIGS ME OUT

he was ready and willing to kill for a mannequin (love of his life)

His unclear understanding of what/who Dolores is. I can’t tell if he understands that she’s not sentient and can’t feel or love (my brain is telling me “YES SHE CAN HAVE YOU NOT SEEN TOY STORY” as I write this so heck maybe that’s his logic), but it’s kinda scary how fast he attached himself to her (we see him with her barely a few days after getting stuck)

His “I’m an old man who’s seen and done everything” complex

(From here on will just be things I noticed)

He was a really bouncy kid—bounced out of the bank, bounced at the dinner table, bounced up the stairs. He was a bouncy boy

He legit looked terrified to get his tattoo??? Like I know they all were, but usually he seemed like the “idgaf” type. What gives?

He is constantly putting his hands behind his back or in his pockets like some smarmy lil punk, both when he was a kid and after becoming a jaded killer. He also likes to sit with his ankle on his knee (note tattoo scene, he’s the only one not sitting normally, and also the scene in Vanya’s appartment). A few traits that survived all odds, I guess.

He only willingly let Vanya take care of him. He didn’t ask her too, but she made it clear she intended to do it he didn’t fight or say “I’ll do it myself”. He just rolled up his sleeve and let her help. The only other time someone else helps him like this is literally when he’s barely conscious and cANT bite off their hands

*SHANKS TABLE TO GET ATTENTION FROM NEGLECTFUL AND ABBUSIVE FATHER*

Also, the way Reginald eyed Five at the dinner table when he noticed him looking at him. How many times had Five used the minimal “quality” time to rag on him about science stuff????

We really see that he hates what he’s become when he says “I don’t belong anywhere, thanks to you. You made me a killer.” Up to that point, he doesn’t really go into it. He tells Luther that he didn’t enjoy the killing, but he never seems to actively show loathing for what happened to him. He’s too focused on saved his family and the world. But when he says that to the Handler, you can see that he’s really angry, and I kinda think that going back to his family and finding that he doesn’t really fit anymore and knowing that he can never go back really drove it home. Big oof, basically.

When his life is threatened, he doesn’t seem to panic too much, but when his family/loved one are, he actually looks scared (referring to jaded Five rn). Trying to stack his family? ANGER/FEAR. Trying to stack Dolores? SO MUCH FEAR NO NO NO (legit almost shot Luther—I wish he had sometimes tho)

Dolores telling Five that she doesn’t like it when he drinks is just essentially just Five telling himself that he doesn’t like it when he drinks. Does he examine his own flaws through Dolores berating him?????? Good golly he needs therapy

He never once give up hope that they can save the family. Like, the mOON WAS CRASHING INTO THE PLANET and he just “OKAY BUT LIKE ITS NOT THAT BAD WE CAN FIX THIS”

When he chucked the water bottle at Klaus for dancing with Dolores “GET OUT” (this killed me oml)

The fact that “Dad” was the third name out of his mouth in the apocalypse. I don’t know what to make of it. It just makes me wonder.

His little red wagon

Bundling up Dolores for winter even as a grown man (GET HIM THERAPY OH MY GOODNESS)

he was out for 45 years, but he said he was with Dolores for 30. He found her almost immediately after getting stuck, so..... did the Commission take her away????? Did he leave her like “it’s not safe I don’t want you to lose your other arm”???? Like wtf happened???? Is the reason he screws up the equations because he didn’t have Dolores to fact check him for 15 years????

(Last one I swear) Mom patching him up in ep 7 is the first time she’d gotten to take care of her boy Five in 17 years AND it was the first time Five had been taken care of by his Mom in 45 years. :’)

EDIT: ALSO TO WHOM DOES HE OWE A DEBT EXACTLY??? WHOMST???