#i’m an idiot but don’t ever say I don’t learn from my mistakes

[call-me-corvid]

Manger in charge of a LOT of shit quit recently because he got a job offer that was

A) 3x his original salary, and

B) involved far less responsibility

I had worked as his subordinate last year, so naturally the head honchos asked me take over what he was doing. Not with the title, but with the “promise” that we can visit that discussion in eight months depending on my performance (yeah okay /s).

Key note: I had received a similar promise for a different manager position. (No followup mention of that promise + no significant training provided to move me towards that position) * 7 months = empty promise. Alright cool.

One month in. Not getting too much guidance (expected), told I’m doing good and need to value myself higher.

Okay. Bet.

Asked for a raise in recognition of increased responsibilities beyond my current job description, quality of work, pay scale of the position (i’m at the bottom), etc. You know, hard facts that cannot be influenced by subjective feelings of importance or relevance.

Oh let’s not forget part of the raise was the annual raise that the HR manager promised ALWAYS happens but I have not received since my annual review four months ago. That I told the HR manager about two months ago but never heard anything back on. So there was a reminder of that, as well.

Told (to my face) that I’m entitled, don’t work hard enough, issued an ultimatum (literally didn’t make any sort of threat but okay), used the owner’s words against him (literally just quoted him on something he told me about pay when I was first hired but okay), they threatened that they could easily go out and find an external hire to take on in the role I’m being “trained” for, and asked if I REALLY think any other place would hire me. Among other “”feedback.””

Okay. Okay okay okay okay. I see how they view me now. Good to know. I learned quite a few things from this conversation and I think some of those things may surprise them.

[j-schlutt]

Maybe some supportive Schlatt after the reader screws up really bad and loses some of her friends? He doesn't take it too seriously at first, but as she explains that she's at fault, he realizes that she's not always that bright sunshine he's thought her to be, and that makes her even more special to him?

They're both so flawed, but he absolutely loves her either way because everyone makes mistakes <3

i can totally see schlatt not taking it seriously at first cause that’s how he is but once he learns that it’s affecting you heavily he’s so supportive :(

i hope i did your request justice! thank you so much for sending one in! <3

Schlatt knew that the situation with your friends was affecting you, but he didn’t realize how much. He knows you as the strong, loving, and radiant partner you are to him. Since you’ve always presented yourself as the brightest person in his life, he has rarely (or ever) seen that persona crack.

So when he came into the bedroom to see you crying, he didn’t know how to react. He’s never been good with emotions. But, since it’s you, he had no problem trying to comfort you. All he wants is for you to be happy.

He creeps steadily over to your shaking frame near the end of the bed, squatting down to be level with you. “What’s wrong, toots?” He knew the question was stupid, so after he said it he winces, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“Nothing it’s stupid… I’m stupid…” You say in between batted breaths, wiping your tears off your cheeks to appear fine. Your anxiety worsens as now your boyfriend has seen this side of you, the one that had also lost your friends.

He reaches up to grab your hands with caution, not wanting to startle you or do the wrong thing. When your hands rest in his, he looks back up to you, thinking about what to say next, “You’re not stupid. It’s not stupid if it’s making you upset.”

“I’m just not supposed to be like this…” Your head is still down, eyes focusing on your lap to avoid the concerned eyes of your boyfriend on you.

“Like what?”

Biting your lip, you think of how to phrase it, “I just don’t want you to see this side of me. It’s all my fault that I lost some of my friends cause of a mistake I made. It’s not your problem to deal with my emotions…”

His whole mindset of you shatters. But, not in the way you feared. You hid your feelings from him in hopes to not overwhelm him, but the reality of the situation was that he wanted you to be able to come to him for comfort. He realized his mistakes of not presenting himself as the most comforting person to you, while also realizing that you had made mistakes too in this situation. His love for you grew once he realized that you were both flawed, it made the relationship appear more real to him. He’s always perceived you as completely flawless, but this made him realize that he was wrong. “Oh, toots…” He reaches up to pull your hands to his face, kissing them. “I know that I’m not the best person with emotions, but I don’t want you to hide from me. You don’t have to. I could never see you differently no matter what… Unless I actually turn fully gay or something like that…”

A smile appears on your face at his lame joke at the end and he smirks back at you. “You’re an idiot,” you joke back.

A wave of silence falls between you two until Schlatt speaks up, “Why don’t we go to that new ice cream place down town and talk about it all? I can even give you some of my own advice?”

You let out a breathy laugh, wiping the remaining tears off your face, “Yeah, we can…” You finally look up at him, seeing his eyes focused only on you. “Thank you,” you mumble.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

[yanderemommabean]

Momma imagine yandere obey me brothers x darling mc as a horror game like outlast

Instead of outlast, darling mc tries to find information on how to break the pacts with brothers or somehow keep them away from them while running away and hiding

Imagine how aggressive Satan and Beelzebub would be and what would happen after mc is caught

((I havent slept much so this is kinda iffy but!!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless! ))

“I’m trying my damndest not to be angry with you, I really am. I mean, after all, you didn’t ask to be here, you were brought here out of the blue no question” Satan says as he clenches his teeth, eyes like a viper as he stares you down and makes you petrified, keeping you cowering down as he stalks forward, tail flicking angrily as he comes into his demonic form. “I thought we had something. I bared you my soul, my withered bones, my broken heart, and you…You lied to me. Told me you’d always be here for me, only to go run to that scum and beg for freedom from our pact!” he spits venomously, the growls he was emitting rumbling the walls around you, the foundation barely holding together as the air around you became sour, too hard to breathe. 

Satan was a being of wrath, the very embodiment of it, and you, you foolish human, thought you could just sever his tie to you with no consequence? Humans have no self preservation it seems. “I don’t see how you’d want to separate us! What we have! I mean haven’t I given you everything? Haven’t my brothers given you hospitality, safety, love and support? Sure, things were rocky but I thought we moved past that!”. His voice was still so eerily quiet, you were waiting for it to erupt into a violent outburst with your own intestines slung over the rafter. Something about him being this quiet made you realize this would be even worse than if he just had a freak out. You swallowed, standing straighter as you thought very carefully about the words forming on your lips. There was no way to really baby him and pacify his emotions like this, he was beyond pissed, so much that you could feel it thrumming under your own skin as your lungs felt squeezed and your throat felt stuck. “There was no way for me to head home unless I cut all ties” Something breaks, shatters, the windows surrounding the library just fall to shards as the beast gnashes his teeth at you, eyes fiery and all consuming as he wraps his tail around you, squeezing you tighter than the tension had earlier. “Abandoning us? After we did so much for you? After we bonded closer than any stupid human could have in their lifetime?!” he snarls again, crushing you as he held you tighter in his grip, a punishing hold. “And here I thought Mammon was the greedy and selfish one. I’m beginning to think humans are the real selfish idiots of all three realms”. You aren’t getting away from him. Never. This mistake was your own, you made this bed, bloody and messy, and you’re going to lie in it. He didn’t change his being, bare himself open, have you look deep into his soul and form a pact with you for you to just suddenly decide you were bored and leave! You truly must have no heart! He’ll teach you how to behave. He’ll make sure you learn this lesson over and over again, that you’ll bare your own scars soon so you remember that your actions leave marks on everyone, and can’t be so easily erased.

You’ll learn that you’re his. That when he says he loves you, you aren’t ever escaping him or his brothers. -Mommabean

[hungryforpowernotfood]

Making a Deal (Part 2)

Summary: Your date, gentlemen and distinguished folks

Warning(s): House being rude to waiting restaurant staff, being misgendered/mistaken as a woman (being called ma'am), self doubt, and anxiety

Pairing(s): Greg House x ftm reader

You stood on the sidewalk waiting for House to drive up. He had insisted on picking you up and treating it like an actual date. He was even on time when you recognized his car approaching you.

You gave him a small wave and watched as he pulled up along the sidewalk, and stopped the car a few feet ahead of where you were. 

You frowned as you started walking towards the car. He got out and started limping around to the other side.

“What’d you do that for?”

“Because if I pulled up beside you, you would get in the car myself. And if memory serves, that’s not exactly how dates go.” He responds, opening up the passenger door for you.

“Right, but isn’t that for women?”

“Ever heard of equality, l/n? Get in the car.”

You huffed, and got in—him practically slamming the door shut after you. He slammed his door shut as well after he got in, and you wondered if he knew he didn’t need to slam it for it to properly close, but decided against bringing it up.   

Aside from the radio playing, the majority of the car ride was silent between the two of you—House made a few comments about the restaurant he was taking you to, and made a joke about how he didn’t know what food you liked. He occasionally made comments about what was playing, but he never changed the station. 

“Don’t get out yet.” He ordered after he had parked the car. He got out himself, then limped to your side, and opened your door for you.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” House made a point of saying the words, but he loosely linked his arm to yours as you made your way toward the restaurant. He gave the greeter his name for the reservation, and the two of you were led to your table.

The restaurant was admittedly nicer than you thought it would be, however, the conversation was as forced as you predicted it would be, despite the few compliments he made. 

It wasn’t very long before the waitress introduced herself, and offered to get your drinks. House ordered your drink for you—insisting you try something and trust him—and by the time the waitress got back with your drinks, she took your orders. 

House decided to go first, and you were about to make a biting comment about how he could’ve just picked something for you when you realized something: you had never presented as male before in public. Not like this, at least. You hadn’t been able to get any interviews yet, and when you went to the store, you were always able to go to the self-checkout. 

“And for you sir?” The waitress turned to you, and you barely registered that she was talking to you. 

You cleared your throat, attempting to deepen your voice.

“I’ll take the—” You cut yourself off by the waitress’s expression.

“I–I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—I meant ma’am.”

You tried not to flinch at the word. You glanced at House and saw he was glaring at the waitress.

“I know they don’t pay you much,” he growled, making her turn to face him, “and obviously you didn’t get much schooling, but you must be an idiot to refer to my boyfriend as ‘ma’am’.”

He made a point of mocking the word ‘ma’am’, like a child who just learned a new nonsense word, and thinks it’s the most ridiculous thing ever to roll off their tongue. 

“I—right, I’m sorry, it’s my mistake—” She said, turning to address you now. 

“That was established.” House scoffed. 

“What can I get for you, sir?” The waitress asked a little quieter now, though you were sure it was only to avoid any more ridicule from House. 

You gave her your order—her quickly jotting it down as you said it, repeating it to the both of you to make sure she got both orders right, and quickly walking back to the kitchen.

House rolled his eyes. “Honestly, if I can’t escape idiots at work, you’d think I’d at least be able to avoid them here.”

“It’s okay.”

“Not really.”

“No, I mean…I understand why she thought…I don’t look very masculine.”

House cocked his head to the side. “Sure, maybe you don’t have a beard to make it obvious you have a mix of testosterone and the proper hormones to give some people the hint that maybe you possibly are male, but that doesn’t mean she should be rude about it.”

“She wasn’t being rude.”

“Yes, she was. You’re clearly presenting as male, she had no issue in assuming that we were two men having dinner, and did not hesitate to call you ‘sir’. She only changed when she heard her voice. Which is rude. Especially considering there could’ve been a genetic reason or medical reason for you not having a lower voice.”

“I know that, but—”

“No buts. Let her learn her lesson.”

You gave him a look. “When did you teach her a lesson?” You teased slightly.

“That she shouldn’t have just assumed what you preferred to be called. If you didn’t want to be called ‘sir’, you would’ve corrected her the first time. Or I would have.” House paused, before slightly furrowing his brow. “Besides, no one wants to be called ‘ma’am.”

[ugh-yoongi]

Jewel, I know your requests are closed but I desperately need to hear your thoughts on who in BTS would do this: https://www.tumblr.com/writing-prompt-s/739417828719034368/you-a-powerful-demoness-have-just-been-summoned

and why is it Namjoon (the potential for crack with this 148 IQ man who is also way more innocent than we think acc to one park jimin just takes me out)

i'm so sorry it took me so long to finish and post this but thank you so much for sending it bc i have been cackling about this scenario ever since.

the prompt: you, a powerful demoness, have just been summoned to earth. this man, this human, wants you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a few days so his parents will get off his back about it.

the gang summons a demon

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: supernatural au; crack warnings: reader is a demon and engages in demon behavior, swearing, namjoon makes mention of not being straight, heteronormative parental expectations, jk learns about arcane things on tumblr (which is not an original idea; i read a fic ages ago where taekook are tumblr witches but i cannot find it, so credit to that author or whoever came up with it first), unedited so any mistakes are mine. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 2k

It’s been years since you’ve been to Earth—even longer since you’ve been to South Korea.

“I haven’t been here since 1910,” you say, staring at the gobsmacked man across from you. He’s tall, with tanned skin and a bleached buzz cut; a smattering of tattoos dotting his toned arms—whites and rich hues of blue, imitations of some kind of ceramic art, you think; a golden hoop through his nose; cheeks with dimples so deep you’re sure they’ll crater. “People here definitely didn’t look like you back then, so I’m going to assume we’re pretty far into the future.”

“It’s 2024,” he answers, seemingly still a little dazed. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, jaw dropped. Normally it’s nice to be looked at like that, with all the reverence and awe you deserve, but Earth is not your favorite place to be. Doesn’t even crack the top fifty, if you’re being honest. “Did you say 1910? As in the beginning of the—”

You sigh. “Uh-huh. Hey, if you wouldn’t mind hurrying this up, I’ve got things to do.” The man continues staring. Could be a trick of the light, but you think he’s turning paler by the second.

Minutes tick by. Nothing but silence.

“Are you even listening to me?” you snarl, quickly losing patience you were never given. “I said I’ve got shit to do. My schedule’s booked solid for the next eight centuries, so I really don’t have time to be dilly-dallying in mundane human affairs. Your problems are always so boring.”

More silence.

Which is irksome, sure, but what’s worse is this stupid fucking circle you’re trapped in. Drawn crudely on the floor of (seemingly) this human man’s actual apartment, which would’ve told you all you’d needed to know, if you’d taken ten seconds to take in your surroundings upon first being summoned. This place has got books stacked floor to ceiling in every available inch of space, but you’re certain this person is a fucking idiot.

“Hello?”

The man shakes his head. “Oh, sorry, I just—I’m Namjoon? Kim Namjoon.”

“I don’t care.”

“Right, right.” He sucks in a deep breath. “Well, you’re probably wondering why I summoned you here today”—you roll your eyes—“and, uh.” Namjoon scratches at the back of his neck, anxiety oozing from every pore on his body. Definitely paler. “I am too, to be honest.”

“You what—”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon hurriedly adds, all of that anxiety shifting quickly into pure panic. “It’s just—it was a joke! Mostly! Jeongguk said it as a joke, because everything he says is a joke, and I should’ve known that, but—I don’t know! I’ve tried everything else, and the longer its gone on the more desperate I’ve become, and suddenly what Jeongguk said as a joke didn’t sound so much like a joke anymore! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it’d actually work!”

It takes your brain a minute to translate and decipher the useless slush that just came out of his mouth, but when it does… oh, when it does, you feel absolutely murderous. “You summoned me as a joke?”

Namjoon must see it, too. There’s no way you’re looking cool, calm, and collected right now, because you’ve seen the faces of others that have witnessed your wrath, and they were almost always on the brink of (if not outright) shitting their pants. This stupid, clueless human in front of you doesn’t appear to be faring much better.

So you continue, just to watch him squirm. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Yes?”

“And who am I?”

He holds up his pointer finger and digs through the back pocket of his jeans. Pulls out a crumbled scrap of paper, nearly soiled from ass sweat and time, and his eyes squint as he tries to read it. “I—well, it’s probably not an accurate translation, you know, since—”

“What does that piece of parchment say, Kim Namjoon?”

“Nothing,” he lies. “I can’t read it anyway, so… a-haaa…”

Patience officially worn thin, you snap your fingers, delighting in the startled shriek that escapes him as the paper goes up in a plume of smoke. “I am going to give you one chance to be honest with me,” you explain slowly, leveling him with a look. “Who do you think I am, and why am I here?”

Namjoon pales further. Looks like he’s trying to melt right through the floor into a puddle of useless slush, and you’d be more than willing to speed up the process if it weren’t for this god forsaken demon trap.

“Can I—can I sit down for this?”

Kim Namjoon, you learn, has a friend named Jeon Jeongguk.

Jeon Jeongguk, you also come to learn, has learned magic from a website called Tumblr.

“There, uh. There are definitely blogs for that sort of thing,” Namjoon explains, tattooed fingers scratching at the back of his neck. He takes a very quick glance at you. “Clearly not very accurate ones.”

You hum. “That’s the only smart thing I’ve heard you say since I showed up in this shithole.”

Namjoon gawks. “Hey, my apartment isn’t a shithole! It’s the best I could afford, alright? There was just an article in The Business Times about how archaic of a system jeonse is—”

“Uh-huh. And this… website?”

Namjoon goes red. Coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, yeah. I’m gonna be honest with you—”

“I already said that—”

“—my parents are coming to visit from Ilsan in a few days and I need a girlfriend.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. Long enough to replace the rug that had been pulled from under you, because you’re pretty sure you heard this human man allude to having summoned you so you can pretend to be his girlfriend.

All things considered, you’re impressed by how calm you are. This is not a trait most demons have, you especially, and it makes you nostalgic for the days you used to rip men apart limb by limb for less.

“Are you insane?” you ask simply.

“In my defense,” he explains around a wince, “Jeongguk said it was a love spell.”

“A love spell.” Namjoon nods. “And you wound up summoning a demon.”

“It… appears I may have done that, yes.”

“And you want a demon to meet your parents?”

“I mean… when in Rome, right?”

“I’ve committed at least four-hundred and sixty-seven separate atrocities there, so no, probably not when in Rome.”

Namjoon’s jaw drops. He tucks his knees closer to his chest. “Christ, that’s a lot. How did you have the time?”

“I’m immortal,” you deadpan.

“Right, right. Anyway, to answer your question: yes.”

Your eyes narrow. “How bad are your parents that you’d want me to meet them?”

“They’re fine, mostly. I just… am not what they expected in a son? Like, I have the hair and the tattoos and I dropped out of my engineering program in university to pursue art and poetry, so the least I could do is find a wife and settle down and give them grandchildren, but I don’t even know if I want to ever settle down. I’m also not… heterosexual? Entirely? Do you see that a lot—”

You sigh. “Misconception. Not to launch you into some kind of existential crisis, but the gods really don’t give a shit who you humans sleep with.”

“Gods? As in plural?” You snap your fingers. Namjoon’s fingers immediately go to his temples. “Damn, I have a really bad migraine all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, that was me.”

“What’d you do?”

“Made you forget something.”

“Oh. What’d I forget?” It takes a second. “Oh, right, yeah. Um. What was the last thing I said?”

“Your parents wanted you to be an engineer and have a ton of kids but you like art and also not-women, sometimes.”

He flushes again. “I—yes.”

You sigh, arms crossed over your chest. All you want to do is sit down, or open a window. This apartment smells far too strongly of patchouli. “Look, I haven’t been to this place in a long time, but surely you aren’t undesirable by your society’s standards.”

“Are you saying I’m attractive?”

You scowl. “No. I’m saying there had to have been easier ways of doing this, and also can you open a window?”

“It’s February.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“It’s really cold outside.”

“I’m literally from Hell. Go put on a sweater, then.”

With a roll of his eyes, Namjoon stands and moves to the window. Cracks it open a millimeter, just enough for the cold to seep in, before he’s stalking off toward—you’re assuming—his bedroom. You think he’s shoving a garment over his head when he calls out, “You know, you’re really fucking bossy for someone stuck in a trap.”

You vow to kill him as soon as you’re free.

It isn’t often you’re held hostage.

Usually you can spot a trick coming a thousand miles away, but since Namjoon hadn’t meant to summon you at all, you’d been caught unawares. Doomed to be stuck in a demon trap, just like he’d said, which meant you didn’t have a ton of bargaining power.

At least that’s what you’re telling yourself, because as you sit across from Namjoon’s parents at some fancy restaurant, you aren’t convinced he isn’t a crossroads demon himself.

“So,” his mother begins, turning her attention to you, “what do you do for work?”

Namjoon elbows you beneath the table, giving you a silent warning to stick to the script. You’re only here under threat of force—because Jeongguk had stopped by Namjoon’s apartment, saw you in the summoning circle, and nearly fainted before going back to Tumblr to find a binding spell.

Except that one wasn’t great, either, because it only bound you and Namjoon together for three days instead of forever. And, as penance for all the chaos you’ve sown across the universe, Namjoon’s parents’ visit fell within that time frame, so here you are.

Out to dinner. With humans.

You’re pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.

You’re in for the most embarrassing ribbing of your existence once you’re home.

“I work with idols,” you respond, as convincingly as possible, because Namjoon had thought it’d be really funny. Get it? he’d said. Like false idols? You hadn’t laughed. “It’s very secretive, of course, but—”

You don’t finish your thought, because Namjoon’s mother looks delighted: face lit up with mirth, smile blinding, eyes half-lidded under the weight of her happiness. “Oh, how exciting! Has he told you he used to do performances to old H.O.T songs? Namjoonie, what was that one song you liked—”

“Eomma, please—”

“Wasn’t it ‘Candy’?” Namjoon’s dad offers from behind his menu. It’s the first thing he’s said all evening.

Namjoon whimpers, foregoing all social decorum and lectures on posture to sink further in his chair.

You do not, under any circumstances, feel a hint of fondness.

(Which dissipates not even twenty-four hours later.

“The blog was deleted,” Jeongguk says, eyes wide as saucers. “I—the blog is gone, I don’t know how to—”

“What do you mean the blog is gone?” The poor kid is overcome with panic and fear, tries to stutter out a response that makes no sense to you at all through his sobs. “Jeon Jeongguk, what do you mean the blog is gone?”

“I—it’s—I had it bookmarked, I swear! Once the binding spell wore off I was gonna send it to Namjoon hyung so he could send you back, but the blog is gone so the post is gone, too. I don’t—what do I even search for—oh my god, please don’t kill me, I think I’m having a panic attack, I’m gonna—”

And then this human man vomits all over your feet. Namjoon sighs as he goes to fetch a bucket, and you think it’ll be a miracle if any of these people—yourself included—live to see the end of the week.)

[yellowkitkieran]

Afterglow (Martin Odegaard)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Based loosely on ‘Afterglow’ by Taylor Swift. Requested by anonymous.

Babe, you need to see this. I'm sorry. 

The second you read the message from your best friend, your heart stutters. A link comes through seconds later. Your hand shakes as you click on it and an article fills your screen. The article brings your world crashing down before you read anything past the headline. It shows your boyfriend Martin laughing with a pretty blonde woman, one hand on her hip and the other holding hers as they walk out of a nondescript building. By all accounts, it looks damning.

A fire lights in your belly, one born of jealousy rage. How dare he? After everything he'd promised you? Who does he think he is? A million questions swirl in your mind, most of them barbed and accusatory. You glance at the clock, silently thankful that Martin should be there any second and you don't have to stew on this for long. 

Everything inside you wants to smash the photos in your flat until Martin's face is nowhere to be found. Three years down the drain for what was probably a fling. It isn't your fault you don't want to fuck as much as he does! That's probably all it was too; just sex, a replacement for what you couldn't always give him. And it stings to know he'd gone and found that somewhere else. 

You hear his keys outside your front door. Mentally drawing up your walls, you remind yourself to stand strong as it swings open. "Søta? I'm- oh hey. I missed you today."

Where Martin's voice is soft, yours is hard as stone. "Oh, did you? Are you sure you aren't mistaking me for that blonde you're fucking on the side?"

All color drains from Martin's face in an instant, which tells you all you need to know. "What do you mean? I'm not- you're my one and only, you know that!"

And now he has the audacity to lie to your face. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're really gonna stand there and pretend like I don't know what's going on? I saw the article Martin!"

"What article?" Martin rakes a nervous hand through his hair, voice raw and confused but you don't care. "Søta I swear-"

"Don't call me that!" You shove at Martin's chest with all your strength, breaking the loose grip he has on your arms. You feel like a cornered stallion, bucking and kicking because your heart is beating so wildly you can't hear anything over its roar in your ears. 

"The evidence is right here," you say, shoving your phone in his face. "Are you gonna tell me this photo is fake? Staged? 'Martin Ødegaard caught out and about with a new girl'? How do you think that makes me feel, that I have to find out about this through my friend? I'm an idiot!"

Martin made a promise that he would never, ever hurt you, and now he's done the worst possible thing you can do to another human. You trusted him with your fragile, taped together heart that you feared had been broken one too many times to be functional. But he had nurtured you, planted seeds of affection and helped you learn what real love looks like. Now he's ripped the rug out from under you and left you damaged. 

Martin stands stoic in the face of your hurricane of emotion. His eyes are red rimmed but other than that, he shows nothing on his face. "It's not true," he whispers, pleading with you to believe him. "You have to know it's not real. You know I would never do something like that."

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, "I can't listen to your excuses Martin. Please go."

Martin's face crumbles like your heart. He reaches for you but you step away, unwilling to let his touch bend your perception of events in his favor. One touch and you'll be done- your confidence will dissolve and you'll fall into his arms and let him hurt you again and again.

"I love you."

Your hands fly up to your ears like a child, protecting yourself from his words. You squeeze your eyes shut. You try to block out the way you can still feel him standing a few feet from you. When you finally open them some minutes later, Martin is finally gone. A folded slip of white paper sits on the floor where his feet were, but you don't touch it. 

The best thing you've ever had is gone, and you're afraid you'll never find something so sweet again. 

*********

Søta can we please talk?

I miss you.

Please just let me explain, I swear it isn't what you think it is

You refuse to respond to a single one of Martin's messages. You've been ignoring them for days and they have begun to pile up in your inbox, and still you refuse to touch them. You remain firm in your position that he'd done you wrong, that damning photo splashed across tabloids everywhere. He'd embarrassed you- how hard was it to break up with someone before moving on?

There's one singular image of Martin that comes out of Arsenal's training all week. He isn't looking at the camera but his posture alone is enough to tell you how heavy his heart is. You hate seeing him like that, despite everything. It isn't like your love for him evaporated; you still feel the same for him and seeing him so blue hurts.

Something constricts in your chest and for the first time in six days, and after much internal debate, you allow yourself to search for his name on Instagram. 

And it's then that you see her post explaining the story. It's a short reel and your curiosity gets the better of you- why would Martin choose her over you, the woman he claimed to love until the end of time? 

"Hey guys, I just wanted to hop on and address those images of me and Martin Ødegaard that have been circulating online. First and foremost, nothing happened! I literally fell flat on my face seconds before that as we were coming out the door- he was helping me walk in those stupid tall heels that I shouldn't have been in the first place. 

"I swear that's all it was- we both had photo shoots in the same building that day and he'd stopped to help me because I was struggling. I hadn't even met him before that day, and the only reason I know who he is, is thanks to everyone online!"

You lock your phone and set it on the table, completely stunned. Oh, you'd fucked up big time. Leaving your phone behind you grab your keys and your jacket, heart pounding as you rush out the door. 

You have to see him. You have to set things right. 

You make it to his house in record time. The weather must pick up and feed off your mood because just as you pull up the skies open up, rain pouring down from a suddenly cloudy sky. 

"Fuck it, let's go," you mumble to yourself, hopelessly holding your hands over your head as you run for his door. You knock frantically, praying he's home. You hadn't stopped to check what day it is- was he at recovery? Training? Was it a match day-

The door swings open and you're greeted by an exhausted looking Norwegian. Martin drums up a half smile, shifting his weight to his right foot, "Hey."

Seeing him now, everything comes crashing down. You should've let him speak before just barreling ahead. It wasn't right for you to shut him out the way you had. He deserved a chance to defend himself and you'd been so terrified of being hurt that you'd jumped to conclusions. 

You throw your arms around his neck and pull him out into the rain for a fierce hug, not caring that you're soaked to the bone. You bury your face in his shoulder as he instinctively soothes a hand over your back, unsure what was happening but hating seeing you upset all the same. 

"Shh søta it's alright… what's happened? Do you want to come inside?"

You pull back to look up at him, threading your fingers in the hair on the back of his head. "No- Martin I'm so sorry for everything. I should've let you speak instead of just accusing you of something I knew you wouldn't ever do. And I know you probably can't forgive me but I'm gonna do my best to earn it as best I can."

Martin smiles and brushes your sopping hair off your forehead. The tenderness in the gesture carries the weight of a thousand words and instantly you feel lighter. "I was never upset with you, and there's nothing to forgive. I don't blame you for reacting the way you did. I'm just glad you're here now… but I am gonna take you inside before you get sick and I have to take care of you."

You smile, silently grateful for him and the fact that the rain hides your tears. "I love you Mar, I'm glad you were home. I didn't really have a plan, I just knew I needed to speak with you."

Martin takes your hand and leads you inside before he says anything else. "You know where the spare key is anyway. I wouldn't put it past you to wait here and ambush me when I finally did get home." Martin kneels in front of you, allowing you to hold his shoulder for balance while he takes off your wet shoes and sets them aside. Then he starts on your jeans, unbuttoning them and working them down your legs, though the wet denim provides a challenge, "also, let's just put this all behind us okay? I want to forget it ever happened."

Standing before him half dressed, you smile at the man in front of you. No one has ever knelt before you, and certainly no one has ever looked at you the way Martin is now. His face is open and vulnerable, a beautiful sight to behold as rainwater drips down his cheeks and off his chin to dot the carpet under your feet. You place your hand on his jaw and guide him to his feet, pulling him in for a wet kiss as his hands find your hips.

"Just say you love me," you murmur against him, his warmth warding off the cold from your soaked skin. 

"I love you," he whispers into your mouth. "And I think we need a warm shower."

You pull back to search his expression, trying to determine his mood. "Together?" You ask tentatively, because you're not ready to be apart from him just yet.

Martin offers you a cheeky grin and grabs your bum, "together. Definitely together."

[paperhats-and-evil-schemes]

Lovestarved (Rewrite)

Flug couldn’t believe it. Defying all of his expectations, Black Hat actually prevented him from hurting his friends. Not only that, but kept his secret from being exposed. He had been so certain that the eldritch wanted [...], but now, with every manipulative and cruel assumption Flug had made being tossed out the window, he had no idea what to think anymore. When he next spoke, his voice was but a meek stutter. “Th-Thank you, sir...” “’Thank you’?” Black Hat repeated, a ghostly twitch of annoyance betraying his smile for just a moment. “What have I told you, Flug? Your… gratitude…” That last word was uttered with notable disgust, “… is gravely misplaced. I only—“ He was stunned into silence when Flug unexpectedly clutched his hand. “You stopped me from hurting them.” The scientist spoke more firmly in spite of how his own hands trembled. Flug dared not make eye contact, instead staring directly at the floor. “Thank you.” He had almost expected to get lashed out at or shouted at for grabbing Black Hat so suddenly, and when he realized his mistake, he immediately let go… but Black Hat did neither of those things. He just stared, expression completely blank to the point of almost being comical, at where Flug had touched him. That doesn’t happen. People don’t touch him. He touches people. On his terms. After the initial confusion wore off, his cold and calculative eyes pierced right through Flug. “… Well.” He finally spoke, flat-toned, “You can thank me by getting rid of those pests outside.”

Okay look I know the White Hat fic’s been a long time coming and I’m definitely still working on it, but oh my god the complete and utter abomination that was the original Lovestarved fic was driving me completely insane, I HAD to give it a revamp for my own peace of mind lmfao, my GOD, IT WAS SO BAD YOU GUYS IDC WHAT YOU SAY I'M SORRY SZTEFA BUT YOU'RE W R O N G LMAO

So anyway, have the not-perfect-but-still-very-much-improved fanfic of a Monster!Flug x BH slowburn in which these idiots keep idioting around each other 24/7 until things happen lol (Btw one of my mutuals recently got instabanned for merely mentioning a certain phrase, so since I’m not sure how tumblr is deciding to auto-flag posts and I don’t wanna go through the headache of having to get my account reactivated again, this post is only the first half of the fic (the safe portion lol) and then there’ll be a link to the AO3 version at the bottom of this post for when things start to get on the risqué side.)

And of course, this fic series is based on this wonderful fic right here!

Previous works in chronological order: Hired, Don’t Try to Run, Lovestarved, Trial & Trust, Deeper Than Skin, A Small Solace, In Sickness and in Health, Benefit of the Doubt, Just Another Word I Never Learned to Pronounce, Merry (Late) Christmas, Compromise

Flug had never intended for this to happen.

Never in a million years had he planned on revealing this part of him to anybody , let alone Black Hat himself. Sadly, it’s not easy to sweep the unfortunate incident of devouring a test subject right in front of him under the rug. Then again, given his boss’s nature of being able to slip into any room unnoticed, perhaps Flug should’ve prepared for such an inevitable possibility. 

Oh well. Too little, too late, as some might say. At least Black Hat hadn’t reacted as negatively as Flug thought he might. On the contrary, in fact, Black Hat seemed to find Flug’s otherworldly nature quite amusing. Yet another reaction that his scientist perhaps should’ve expected to some extent. 

What he never could’ve expected was the change in attitude, however.

Yes, ever since that day, Black Hat had been treating him differently. It was subtle enough that any bystander likely wouldn’t notice a difference in their relationship. But Flug definitely took notice, especially in how his superior spoke to him.

He was still his usual brash, hostile self, but every once in a while, sprinkled in between whatever myriad of scathing remarks and scoldings Flug would face on any given day (and even those had lessened significantly), Black Hat would sometimes praise him. The first time Flug heard the words “Good work” out of his boss’s mouth, he thought he’d been hallucinating, as that explanation seemed far more likely.

Furthermore, Black Hat continued to surprise Flug by not broadcasting his secret to the rest of the household. He’d been certain that his boss would’ve gotten a kick out of airing his dirty laundry for everyone to see, if only for the sole reason that Flug gravely didn’t want that. Yet, Black Hat held back. Didn’t speak a word about it to 5.0.5. or Demencia. Not that Flug would risk getting too comfortable in that regard, of course. Whatever Black Hat’s motivations may have been, it definitely wasn’t coming out of a place of respect for Flug’s privacy. Knowing his boss, he was probably just waiting for either of their housemates to walk in on him devouring someone so he could indulge in whatever chaos might unfold. Or perhaps there was some other reason that Flug hadn’t considered. He certainly knew better than to try and guess what Black Hat was thinking, regardless.

Not all of the changes in Black Hat’s behavior were so positive, though. For one thing, his unnerving fascination with Flug’s souleater half has led to some rather uncomfortable arrangements. On the one hand, Black Hat providing him with prey saves Flug the trouble of having to sneak around anymore to feed himself, but on the other, his boss had a peculiarly keen interest in watching him eat. That was already bad enough, having to put what Flug had tried so hard to keep hidden all his life on full display like that, but it was made even worse by how handsy Black Hat would sometimes get afterwards.

He had a particular fascination with Flug’s teeth. Whether or not that was out of some twisted sense of humor or out of a genuine curiosity of Flug’s species, the doctor couldn’t tell. All he knew is that it was uncomfortable. Every time those hands crinkled up the edges of that paper bag to expose his bloodied mouth, anxiety spiked within him at the mere thought of his mask being pulled off completely. Luckily for Flug, Black Hat never went that far, for the time being. 

“Why do you always do that…?” He had asked once, during one upon too many fang inspections to count.

There was a click of the tongue, Black Hat tilting Flug’s chin whichever way he wanted, as he gave his unconventional answer. “The soul residue intrigues me. Besides, it's the only part of your face I’ve seen thus far. I like to admire it at its bloodiest.” Then he’d flash one of his many shit-eating grins. “Given how long you’ve hidden this from me, I certainly have the right to catch up on what I’ve been missing.”

What could he possibly have been “missing”? He knew Black Hat to enjoy displays of violence the most when they had some heart in them. Flug’s only ever been timid and reluctant in the way that he feeds, unable to understand what entertainment value Black Hat could possibly be getting out of such mediocre murders.

On one particular day, however, the situation differed.

Their domain had fallen under siege by a particularly persistent team of heroes… It would’ve been an all-out attack if Dr. Flug hadn’t activated an emergency forcefield just in time. But for now, all they could do was wait these heroes out until they came up with a proper plan of retaliation. Their anti-hero merchandise was the best there was, of course, but with the sheer amount of opponents waiting outside, the villains were put in a particularly tricky situation. 

Black Hat could easily dispose of the problem, Flug knew for a fact. These heroes were mere ants to somebody with his unimaginable power. But, in typical Black Hat fashion, he chose to instead put this job on Flug and Demencia. 

While Flug could understand to some extent that such matters were too trivial and boring for his boss to face head-on, he had hoped the demon would’ve made an exception in this case. This situation had cut Flug, Demencia, and 5.0.5. off from the outside world until they could find a way around those heroes, which wouldn’t be a problem if not for the fact that it left Flug without sustenance to keep his monstrous half in check.

Unfortunately for him, Black Hat found more interest in watching how his employees would tackle the problem instead. Because, for him, the slightly-more-interesting route would always be preferred over the easy way out. It’s not like the health of his underlings has ever held priority over his own amusement, so Flug had no right to be surprised. He’d just have to persevere, and he wouldn’t dare complain about his hunger to Black Hat himself. Knowing him, he’d expect Flug to earn his food under these circumstances. The way Black Hat was constantly hanging around the laboratory as he worked further cemented that idea into his mind. 

Instead, he threw himself into his work as if that were an adequate distraction. He did everything he could to keep his mind busy, to keep himself distracted from anything that may lead to one of his episodes, but it was so damn hard when these hunger swings can be so unpredictable. One minute, he would be completely fine, but the next…

“Whatcha workin’ on, doc?”

Hunger making him more irritable than usual, the mere sound of Demencia’s voice had been enough to grate on his nerves these past weeks of siege. It was bad enough that his cravings were already slowing him down far too much, he didn’t need Dem’s constant pestering on top of his current inability to focus. 

Shaking those concerns out of his head, he was none too kind when he answered her. “Oh, I don’t know, Demencia, maybe a solution to our little problem out there?”

Unfazed by the mockery dripping from his voice, her desire for mischief was left perfectly intact. “Oooo, is it cool? Will it blow ‘em up? Liquidize their insides? Lemme see it!” 

She jumped for the flask, and Flug had barely enough reaction time within him to dodge her. “ Stop that! Do you want to get a cloud of knockout gas to the face!?” Flug barked, scrambling to keep his work from falling out of his hands. Once stabilized, he shot her a nasty glare. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“You’re kidding, right?” She deadpanned in response. Dramatically flopping into a nearby chair, Demencia kept up her annoying lamenting. “We’ve been stuck with those dumb heroes outside for like a week, I’m boooored.”

“Well good for you, but since I’m the only one around here that seems willing to fix this damn mess, I need to focus.” Flug snapped at her, voice raising alongside his frustration, “What I don’t need is some brain-dead halfwit breathing stupid questions down my neck the whole time!”

Demencia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at how intensely he came off. Sure, she could get on his nerves with relative ease, but he usually took it with more grace than that, even at times when he’d sic Hatbots on her. Even Black Hat glanced up from his newspaper upon hearing such unusual hostility growing in Flug, though he reserved comment. 

“Ouch,” Demencia remarked, although not especially offended. “Well, sorry Mr. Grumpypants, didn’t realize you were in such a mood today.” She chided him. “You skip your coffee this morning or what?”

Narrowed eyes shot one last dirty look at her before Flug tried to shift his focus back to his concoction at the lab table. Key word being tried , because before he knew it, he was doubling over from pain when his cravings hit him full-force. He was barely able to catch himself against the table, almost knocking over the work he’d previously scolded Demencia for endangering. 

Serving up a confused stare, Demencia frowned at him. “Uhh, Flug?”

The ruckus also woke 5.0.5. who’d been sleeping nearby, a worried grunt coming from him as he wandered over to see what was going on.

What Flug had feared all along was now fast approaching. This sort of thing was exactly what Black Hat wanted, wasn’t it? For him to expose himself to the others in as violent a manner as possible? And if so, then where the fuck was he? Flug could’ve sworn he was in the room a second ago, and hell, maybe he was too disoriented to know for sure, but he couldn’t see the demon anywhere. 

All he could lock his starving gaze onto was Demencia and 5.0.5., the clueless pair coming foolishly closer to check on him. They’d make easy targets. They were practically offering themselves up on a silver platter. How could Flug possibly refuse the instincts that were screaming at him to eat?

“Okay, Flug, this is weird, even for you.” 

For the briefest of moments, he saw his mother, so stupidly drawing nearer in his state of delirium. She should have known better. She made herself too easy of an antidote to his suffering. The exact same mistake that Demencia was making now.

He wished he could tell her to get away. He wanted desperately to warn her of what danger she was in. But he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t stop himself from inching his starving body nearer, itching to dig his teeth into something –

“Demencia, step aside.” Black Hat’s familiar voice ordered from the doorway, yielding immediate compliance from her. With adept swiftness, he strode over to the unhinged doctor and proceeded to drag him away from his coworkers before any damage could be done, exiting the laboratory with Flug in tow, and leaving Demencia and 5.0.5. to their own confusion.

Black Hat dragged him through hallways and corridors, paying no mind to his scientist’s resistance. Flug’s thrashing wasn’t particularly troublesome for Black Hat, although he felt mild surprise to experience a jolt of pain inflicted by Flug’s fangs when they tried to find nourishment in the tendrils that restrained him. Judging from the retching and gagging that followed, Black Hat’s soulless form wasn’t exactly fine dining to him. 

They entered a darkened storage room, the only light source coming from a flickering bulb above that fought to stay lit. Within, there laid a hero, injured and bound in place by whatever impromptu restraints Black Hat could find in the moment. 

“Eat.” Black Hat ordered as he shoved Flug towards the helpless fool.

As if Flug needed any convincing. 

The second he was released from Black Hat’s grip, he lunged for the hero, tearing into him with such ruthless ferocity, ripping flesh out in bloody chunks that were strewn across the room with great fervor. The crackling and snapping of bones that’d dared get in the way of Flug’s relentless fangs was like music to Black Hat’s ears. The only way this could’ve been better was if the hero had remained alive long enough to scream.

Out of breath by the time Flug was through with him, it took almost a full minute for him to regain his composure. 

“My my, what a savage display.” Black Hat purred in amusement, drawing nearer to admire the carnage. “You’ve been holding out on me, doctor.”

“W-Wha… Wait, th-this is a hero f-from outs-side, isn’t it…?” Flug queried as he came back to his senses, casting a hesitant glance his boss’s way.

“They make for easy pickings. You looked like you needed something rather immediate.” Black Hat replied, wiping bloodied claws off on his clothes. With a disapproving quirk of the brow, he added, “You could have said something sooner , by the way. It’s not like I knew where your breaking point was.”

Flug couldn’t believe it. Defying all of his expectations, Black Hat actually prevented him from hurting his friends. Not only that, but kept his secret from being exposed. He had been so certain that the eldritch wanted the drama and chaos that would’ve come with him attacking 5.0.5. or Demencia, but now, with every manipulative and cruel assumption Flug had made being tossed out the window, he had no idea what to think anymore. When he next spoke, his voice was but a meek stutter. “Th-Thank you, sir...”

“’ Thank you ’?” Black Hat repeated, a ghostly twitch of annoyance betraying his smile for just a moment. “We have been over this, doctor. Your… gratitude …” That last word was uttered with notable disgust, “… is gravely misplaced. I only—“

He was stunned into silence when Flug unexpectedly clutched his hand. “You stopped me from hurting them.” The scientist spoke more firmly in spite of how his own hands trembled against Black’s. Flug dared not make eye contact, instead staring directly at the floor. “ Thank you. ”

He had almost expected to get lashed out at or shouted at for grabbing Black Hat so suddenly, and when he realized his mistake, he immediately let go… but Black Hat did neither of those things. He just stared, expression completely blank to the point of almost being comical, at where Flug had touched him. That doesn’t happen. People don’t touch him. He touches people. On his terms.

After the initial confusion wore off, his cold and calculative eyes pierced right through Flug. “… Well.” He finally spoke, his voice flat and rigid, “You can thank me by getting rid of those pests outside.” 

With that, the demon took his leave. Flug watched him go, blinking slowly as he tried to process what just happened…

… No. He can think about this later. For now, he had an order to carry out.

After cleaning himself up and changing out of his bloodsoaked clothes, Flug returned to the lab with newfound energy and determination. He threw himself at his experiment with ultimate focus, not allowing Demencia or even Black Hat’s presence distract him, despite how intently the latter was watching him.

Flug completed the substance within the hour, and it did not disappoint. Everything went according to plan. Firing the gas bomb at their intruders did the trick, knocking them out just long enough for Demencia to dispose of them without a single issue. 

When all was said and done, Black Hat approached the doctor from behind as he disarmed the forcefield, causing him to jump in surprise when the demon patted his shoulder. “Well done, doctor.” He said simply before walking off.

All Flug could do was stare as he left, completely befuddled. 

He had always craved Black Hat’s praise, but now that he’d been getting it, it felt beyond impossible to get used to.

The strange behavior, the way he kept lingering about the lab for no discernable reason other than to watch him, how he’d been keeping Flug’s diet in check, it was all just so… bizarre. Flug racked his brain day in and day out trying to solve this mystery, but nothing ever felt like it made sense. It couldn’t be coming from a place of respect, as he knew Black Hat was incapable of respecting him. He doubted it was coming from a place of any sort of concern, as nothing about their routine had actually changed. If anything, Flug was more healthy than usual these days due to Black Hat’s assistance in keeping him properly fed.

Perhaps it was something more akin to keeping a pet. Of course, that must be it. Black Hat likely had him lumped in the same category as Lil Jack these days, just a pet to feed and maintain.

While that dehumanizing assumption made the most sense so far, Flug still couldn’t be sure…

One day, curiosity finally got the better of him. He knew he should know better than to question Black Hat, but he just couldn’t help himself this time.

It was on another day that, as was becoming usual, Black Hat had joined him in the laboratory, overseeing his work from a distance. Flug couldn’t actually be sure how much Black Hat was actually paying attention to the invention he was building, but he worked as diligently as he could under his boss’s silent supervision all the same.

A handray of sorts laid in pieces on the table while the doctor fiddled a screwdriver inside the mechanism. Black Hat had taken to leaning against the wall by the door, not a word spoken by him this whole time.

Flug nervously glanced back at him for a moment, quickly averting his eyes back to the device when he was caught staring. Finally, he forced himself to say it. “… Y-You’ve been… a-acting strangely since you first saw me feed, sir…”

“Strangely?” Black Hat’s cold voice repeated, examining his claws without a care in the world. “What are you implying?”

That ice, that frosty and bitter manner in which his boss spoke, had always rattled Flug’s nerves. It was almost enough to discourage him entirely from completing his train of thought, but he knew that would likely annoy Black Hat even more. He put his screwdriver down, turning to face the demon. “W-w-well, it’s, u-um… er…”

“Out with it, doctor.” Black Hat snapped impatiently. He cast the other man a challenging stare, as though daring him to say something he’ll regret.

At this, Flug hesitated. A lump had started forming in his throat, preventing him from speaking. Black Hat’s glare was definitely making the doctor have second thoughts about saying anything at all. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to speak through his discomfort. “Y-You’ve been treating me differently.”

Black Hat’s visible eye slowly narrowed, but he decided to amuse his doctor. “Oh really? How so?” He said in a sort of sarcastic, dry tone, taking a step forward.

No backing down now. Straightening his back, Flug tried very hard not to flinch away at his boss’s advances. “Well…” He began, fiddling with his hands, “You’ve been, um… H-How do I put this… nicer …?”

That was a big mistake the moment he said it, Flug’s eyes going wide once he realized his mistake far too late. Rage flashed across Black Hat’s face, the demon’s familiar growl ringing through Flug’s ears as he came closer. Flinching back and shielding his face with an arm, Flug almost fell over the table behind him as he tried to back away. “W-W-Wait, I didn’t  m-mean it like tha–!” He cut himself off with a fearful yelp as Black Hat yanked him forward by the neck of his shirt, his threatening form towering over the doctor.

“How did you mean it , then?” Black Hat snarled, voice dripping with a biting venom.

“Y-You’ve been acting like you think I have more worth now!” Flug squeaked, hiding his face behind his arms with eyes squeezed shut, a clear exasperation lingering among the fear in his words. “Like because I’m half monster, that changes things!”

Expecting to get pummeled in the next few seconds, it was to Flug’s great surprise that Black Hat let him go. Risking a timid peek at his boss, his jaw almost dropped. Why was he laughing all of a sudden?

“Of course it changes things!” Blackhat grinned, as though it were ridiculous for Flug to suggest otherwise. For some reason, that prickled at Flug’s nerves. “Now that I’ve seen what you are– ”

“What I am doesn’t change anything! I’m still the same Flug I’ve always been!” 

In a moment of surprise, Black Hat’s grin faltered. He’d never heard Flug take such a tone with him before, nor had he seen that particular look of frustration, dressed with hints of defiance, within Flug’s eyes.

“Have you been basing my value on species this whole time?” The scientist went on, irritation building, “What, I’m suddenly worth more to you just because I’m less human? Is that why you haven’t been kicking me around as much? Are you seriously that shallow?” With a scoff, Flug looked away, brows furrowed in anger. “If my being a human really disgusted you that much, I don’t get why you haven’t just replaced me with someone more your style.”

There was a tense moment of silence between them, although the tension was likely only on Flug’s side. Eventually, Black Hat spoke again.

“I believe that’s the first time you’ve dared to raise your voice at me, doctor.”

… Wait… 

Shit.

“I’m sorry…!” He squeaked in fear, cringing away from Black Hat in anticipation of being struck. Realization of how badly he screwed up hit him like a semi truck, and he scrambled over his words trying to do damage control in whatever way he could. “I-I don’t know w-what c-came over me! I-I’m v- very sorry, sir…!”

No violence came his way, however. Instead, Black Hat eyed him with what Flug could only describe as intrigue. His head tilted a smidge to the side, not unlike that of a curious animal. When he next spoke, it was with a kind of guileless tone completely foreign to Flug’s ears. “I have always valued you, Flug.” 

A disbelieving snort escaped Flug before he had the chance to stop it, slapping a hand over his mouth the second such a disrespectful noise had come out. How or why Black Hat hadn’t lashed out at him yet, Flug had no idea.

“You think I would have hired some annoying, sniveling little human if you weren’t of significant value to me? I know you’re smarter than that, doctor.” He drew closer, much to Flug’s discomfort. “In spite of what a pitiful sight you made, it was your intelligence that’d far made up for that. Your intelligence, your dedication, your perseverance, I have seen it all. From the day I met you, I knew your talents were exceptional.”

Baffled by such claims, Flug could do nothing more than stare in disbelief as his boss spoke.

“You impressed me that day, Dr. Flug. I can count on one hand the number of humans that’ve accomplished such a feat.” He went on, circling Flug to admire the work he had laid out on the table. “Humans are one of the most irritating and pathetic species I’ve ever come across in all my years. To have ended up relying on one for the sake of my business has been no less than a major frustration to me. Without you, who the hell do you think would be making all of our products?”

“I-I-” Flug started to speak, but was quickly silenced by the raise of Black Hat’s hand. Clearly, he had more to say.

“In a way, you’re not wrong. It does please me knowing that you’re not entirely human. You are something better. But, you’ve always been better than other humans in my eyes.” When he next turned to face Flug, it was with a narrow-eyed stare on his face. “So, don’t you dare suggest that I haven’t valued you until now. If that were true, I’d have left you dead in that alley all those years ago.”

At that moment, Flug had been rendered speechless. This was the first time Black Hat’s ever verbalized any sort of appreciation for Flug’s work, especially in such a direct manner. He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, tempted to reach out and poke the eldritch to make sure it was actually him and not some sort of caffeine hallucination.

Instead, he averted his eyes. As comforting as that was to hear, it didn’t change the main problem.

“You don’t treat your valuables very well, then.” Flug’s hesitant voice spoke up.

With a boisterous laugh, Blackhat twirled his cane idly. “So what? That’s of no consequence to me.”

“You seem to forget that I’m breakable, sir. It is a consequence if I decide to leave.” If he really is as valuable as Black Hat says... Looking away, he muttered under his breath, “It’s definitely something I’ve considered.”

That came as no surprise to Black Hat. He’s seen the collection of house and apartment ads the doctor’s compiled and occasionally glanced through when his boss’s temper was especially testy. But surely he’d never actually go through with leaving. Not after all the work he put in to get here. It would be absurd.

Not paying the comment much mind, Black Hat decided he was done with this conversation and headed for the door. “Get that ray done. We start filming in two hours.”

Such dismissive behavior was what Flug was used to letting roll off his back. But, this time, it felt like it didn’t matter at all compared to the other things his boss had said.

It was beyond reassuring to know that Black Hat found him important for what really mattered. There had been many a day where Flug had wondered if all of his efforts were actually counting for anything, in that regard.

Now, he won’t have to wonder. 

Something new to wonder about, however, was why this conversation had left him feeling so flustered …

Their uncharacteristically genuine conversation didn’t mean everything was sunshine and daisies, of course. After all, This is the house of evil. Can’t expect much else. What Flug was used to was being yelled at. Though there was one recent incident in particular that had been… strange.

As usual, Black Hat was eager to advertise anti-hero merchandise to their viewers. The demon rarely ever began recording early without first informing Flug, but today was, unfortunately, one of those days. He already had Cam-bot recording before Flug was even in the room. It’s not like he needed Flug there, anyways, so he just went ahead and started without him. The product seemed simple enough, some kind of fireball launcher of sorts.

Black Hat was well into the presentation by the time Flug had gotten there. The doctor had appeared somewhat rushed, and was carrying with him a toolbox.

His eyes widened with terror when he entered the room to see his boss already wielding the product.

“… and with just the click of a button, your local hero will be enveloped in a Hellish blaze!” Black Hat took aim at a target across the room.

“Sir, no!” Flug shouted, darting towards him, “There’s a chemical imbalance that still needs to be–!”

Too late.

There was a flash, then a blast of intense heat as the weapon backfired. Cam-bot went toppling over sideways, making a series of distressed beeping noises, and Black Hat let out a startled snarl as his arm was blown clean off. That wasn’t too much of a concern, however, as a stream of inky black energy quickly formed a new one.

He wheeled around, eyes blazing with rage as he faced the now-shivering Flug. “You IDIOT!!!” He roared, storming over to the scientist and roughly gripping his arm. “Is your job to have our products ready in time or IS IT NOT!?”

“I-I-I’m sorry….!” Flug yelped, cowering. “I-I thought I h-had more time…! I just needed to make one minor adjustmen–” He cut himself off with a pained outcry as Black Hat’s grip tightened, near threatening to break his arm.

“I don’t want to hear EXCUSES, YOU BLOODY– You…” Black Hat trailed off, a whisper of that recent conversation with the doctor echoing in his head.

You don’t treat your valuables very well.

You seem to forget that I’m breakable.

Staring over the terrified doctor now, the way he immediately expected the worst, something felt… off. Black Hat was the one that decided to start early and without Flug’s knowledge… but that still shouldn’t excuse not having it ready before the deadline, so–!

“Sir…?” Flug’s voice, tiny and horrified as it may have been, managed to shake Black Hat out of his thoughts. Fearful eyes gazed up at him with a hint of confusion on top of the pain. Very slowly, Black Hat loosened his grip, then let go altogether and took a step back.

Flug stepped back as well at the first chance he got, gripping his hurt arm close to himself. He gave a puzzled frown. “S-Sir…. are you…. alright….?”

… How could he be asking that? It seemed so… backwards.

… It doesn’t matter.

“Get this mess cleaned up…” Black Hat finally said, his voice unusually low, “… and fix that infernal Cam-bot…” 

Then, he was gone before Flug could even reply.

Watching the door close behind his boss, Flug winced as he rubbed his arm. Sighing, he picked up the dropped toolbox and turned to Cam-bot. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then…”

A flood of blood trickled down the now-lifeless body and onto the floor, Flug’s shaking arm wiping away what dribbled from his chin. With a chunk of neck completely missing from the corpse on the operation table in front of him, it was leaving quite the mess. The doctor tentatively reached up to pull his paper bag back down and cover his mouth, but Black Hat’s cane pulled his arm away before he could. Flug squirmed slightly beneath his boss’s touch as he lifted his chin , discomfort setting in him, but Black Hat paid that no mind.

A gloved thumb lightly grazing across the edge of Flug’s fangs, Black Hat’s expression was oddly monotone today. “… So, tell me.” He said suddenly. “If I’m so unbearable to live with, why do you stick around?”

“S-Sir….?” Flug responded, caught off guard by the question.

“You’re not being forced to stay here.” The eldritch went on. “You said yourself that you’ve considered leaving. Many other villains would be glad to take you. So why do you stay?”

Flug was quiet for a long moment, considering what he should say. Truly, there was only one right answer. “… B-Because the other villains aren’t you.”

At that, Black Hat paused, a twitch of surprise on his features for a second. Then, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Elaborate.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Flug started to fiddle with the sleeves of his labcoat. “W-W-Well, um… I-I mean, you’re… successful, c-confident, accomplished…” Oh gosh, why did he have to be listing off things he admires about his boss while they were in this position? Hardly any distance between them, and Black Hat leaned in closer with every word! Swallowing again, he tried not to get too flustered as he continued, “I-It’s just��� well, you’re Black Hat. You’re one of a k-kind, the best there is. I don’t– I-I refuse to settle for less than the best.” Sheepishly, he looked to the ground, voice quieting. “You’re everything I’m not.”

Silent for quite some time, Black Hat found he was only able to give Flug a dumbfounded stare. The demon’s never had a tendency for modesty, for Flug to be so upfront about both his admirations and insecurities felt strange as can be. It was a combination that Flug likely never would’ve spoken aloud if left unprompted. Then, a smile began to form on Black Hat’s face. “Well, aren’t you the little ego-booster.” He purred, chuckling. “Although…” Stepping back and rubbing his chin in thought, Black Hat tilted his head and looked Flug up and down. “For one thing, if it’s something like confidence you’re wanting improvements on, you really shouldn’t spend your time hiding underneath that paper bag.”

Flinching back, Flug subconsciously ran his fingers across the edge of the bag. “N-N-No. I-I need it.”

“… Tsk. Fine, then. But still, I am curious…” Taking a step forward again, Black Hat brushed at the paper bag with his fingers. Flug jolted back before he could get a proper grip, almost tumbling over the body table in the process. Black Hat simply reached out with his cane, hooked it around Flug’s neck, and yanked him forward. With the other hand, he reached for the bag again.

“No!” In a panic, the trembling scientist grabbed his arm with both hands in an attempt to stop him, eyes squeezed shut.

Surprisingly, Black Hat did stop.

Flug hesitantly opened one eye to evaluate the situation. Black Hat was staring at where Flug had gripped him, same dumbfounded expression on his face as from the last time Flug touched him.

Slowly letting go, hoping that he wouldn’t try to remove the bag again, Flug frowned. “… U-Um… sir… I-If you don’t mind my asking…. W-Why is it you look so… bewildered … when I do that…?”

“Hmph,” Black Hat pulled his arm back after being let go, absentmindedly rubbing the spot he had been grabbed. He tried to cover up the bewilderment with a sly smile. “Maybe because the only time people ever dare to touch me is when we’re fighting or having sex. Why else?”

…. Flug chose to ignore that second part. His frown deepened, a touch of his own bewilderment setting in. “… So you’ve… never been, like… just… casually or platonically touched…?” 

Black Hat took a moment to think about it, looking off to the side. He couldn’t recall any instances of such a thing, aside from maybe shaking hands with clients, if that were to count? But those were more like business obligations rather than anything casual or platonic. “Hmm… No, never.” He eventually concluded. His eyes narrowed just slightly when they pulled back towards Flug. “Well, unless we count you.”

Normally Flug might’ve winced away in response to the slow return of hostility in Black Hat, but he was just… too flabbergasted. The concept of going through life without that ever happening seemed so farfetched for some reason, but he supposed if you’re a guy like Black Hat, maybe it’s plausible…..?

After a long moment’s thought, he hesitantly reached out a hand, pausing near Black Hat’s right shoulder as he examined his boss’s face for permission.

Black Hat’s eyes further narrowed with skepticism at the gesture, but he made no protest. So, Flug continued. His skeptical gaze followed Flug’s hand all the way until it had made contact with his shoulder.

It was strange, how all the malice slowly drained from his boss’s face upon contact. The look in his eyes was no longer one of hostility, but rather, curiosity. Perhaps a touch of confusion, but mostly a genuine sort of curiosity that was, in a way, almost innocent-looking. It was a rather strange expression on him, Flug finding himself unable to look away until Black Hat’s questioning pupils darted to Flug’s own face, wondering why he had gone so still.

Quickly averting his eyes, Flug went back to what he was doing. Very slowly, he ran his hand down the demon’s arm, as if he were simply smoothing out the fabric of his sleeve. Gentle, yet so impactful. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could’ve sworn he felt the slightest shiver from his boss as he had done so. Another sneaking glance to Black Hat’s face confirmed that he was just as confused as Flug was about the whole thing.

Slowly still, Flug raised his other hand to meet Black Hat’s chest, just letting it rest there for a while. Then, as if snapped out of a trance, Flug realized all at once how weird this must be getting and jolted backwards, the sudden movement even startling Black Hat a tiny bit. 

“I-I… um… s-sorry, sir…”  There Flug was, getting all flustered again. Why the hell did these strange interactions with his boss keep stirring up such confusing butterflies in the pit of his stomach?

Black Hat raised an eyebrow slightly, but other than that, his expression remained vaguely passive. He ran his own fingers along where Flug had touched him, quiet for some time. Then, his familiar smile crept back along his face as he looked back towards the doctor. “Seems only fair that I’d get to look beneath that bag of yours now, doesn’t it?”

Crap. Flug was hoping he’d forgotten about that. His gaze fell to the floor, accepting defeat with a very hesitant nod. “I-I-I s-sup-ppose so, s-sir…” He stammered, anxiety quickly on the rise.

A victorious purr rumbled in Black Hat’s throat, and he closed the space between himself and his scientist. Hands once again meeting the bottom of Flug’s paper bag, he took unusual care in how he lifted both the bag and goggles off of his face. As soon as those harsh white lights from the room’s fluorescent bulbs hit Flug’s eyes, a sharp yelp left his throat, and he threw his face in his hands to hide. 

“Seriously, Flug?” Black Hat deadpanned, unimpressed.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry. It’s t-too b-bright.” He stuttered, unable to stop trembling.

There was a moment of silence before Flug heard his boss’s voice again. “Open your eyes, doctor.”

Already feeling dizzy and anxious without the comfort of his bag, the thought of being made to endure such harsh lights on top of that was too overwhelming to handle. But the thought of angering Black Hat frightened him even more. So, he fought back every instinct that screamed at him to protect his eyes, stifled whatever stressful noises tried to escape him, and lowered his hands.

To Flug’s surprise, rather than the headache-inducing brightness he was expecting, he was greeted with a well-dimmed room, black smoke swirling above them to significantly dull the lights. No doubt compliments of Black Hat.

View of his scientist no longer obstructed, the wide-grinning demon took hold of Flug’s chin, lifting his head to get a better look. He could feel the halfling swallow nervously, but was too focused on taking in his appearance to notice or comment. Honestly, Flug looked like any normal human being if you looked past the eyes and teeth. 

But Black Hat didn’t. He was especially focused on those eyes, this being the first time he’s ever actually seen them goggle-free.

Flug’s eyes were without a doubt attention-grabbing. Where a human’s eyes would normally be white, Flug’s were an abyss of pitch-black, glowing white pupils being the only contrast to exist within. 

“Captivating…” Black Hat commented under his breath. While the comment was not specifically addressed for Flug, he certainly reacted to it, feeling an intense heat rise to his cheeks. His boss definitely took notice of that, smirk widening in response.

Embarrassed and feeling like he was going to pass out, Flug quickly grasped for his bag and pulled away from Black Hat, struggling to pull it over his head again through short and shaky breaths.

Evidently, having the bag and goggles was a comfort thing as well as an eye protection thing.

Satisfied, Black Hat gave a firm nod and turned for the door, smoke dissipating with a snap of his fingers. “Clean up your mess and get back to work.” He ordered as he left.

Flug had to take a moment to regain himself, doing everything he could to calm his nerves. With the combination of deep breaths and counting numbers in his head to refocus, the doctor slowly but surely found his composure again.

That was… quite the experience… Almost surreal ….

Placing a hand on the side of his head in confusion, Flug shook it off and went to take care of the body. The entire experience didn’t stop running through his head the whole while.

There were no words Flug had that could describe how their altered relationship had continued to shift and morph since then.

Flug first noticed it with the way Black Hat’s eyes studied him, bore through him right to the bone and stripped his soul bare. There lived no mordacity or annoyance behind his constant gazes, which was unnervingly strange in and of itself. Worse was that Flug couldn’t tell what Black Hat was looking at him with. Was it condescension? It didn’t feel like something that negative... Maybe… curiosity? Interest? But interest in what? No matter what explanation his mind tried to present, Flug knew there was something he had to be missing. Something he wasn’t seeing.

The mystery was only made harder to solve by the way Black Hat would touch him. In the past, the only form of physical contact they’d ever shared was aggressive in nature, as Black Hat had a nasty habit of manhandling anybody nearby in his moments of explosive rage. As such, it was hard not to flinch when the demon would put his hands on him. But, especially after that unusual encounter they’d had, his touches have become shockingly gentle. 

What were once brief pats on the back became lingering touches, claws tracing temperate lines along his meek frame, a hand resting on his shoulder just a bit too long… He’d also just stand far closer than usual whenever they were going over work projects together. Flug thought for a moment that perhaps all this time spent around Black Hat’s eldritch presence was finally driving him insane, but there was no way that he could be imagining these things. Out of all things for his mind to try and play tricks with, why something like this?

Furthermore, as someone who’s always enjoyed his alone time, Flug simply couldn’t wrap his head around why Black Hat kept joining him in the lab for the most benign of times. Even today, all he was doing was reading a newspaper with his morning acid, something he usually did in the comfort of his own office.

Occasional glances in his boss’s direction yielded the same results, those strange stares that made Flug feel so vulnerable being aimed back at him every now and then. He tried to focus on his work, to throw himself into his invention to distract from the outside world as usual, but his rattled nerves simply refused to let him do that today.

The next time he found his boss staring, Flug put down his tools, confronting the issue with a meek question.

“A-Are you ups-set with me?”

A glimmer of curiosity passed through Black Hat’s eyes. He put his newspaper down, that unnerving gaze completely honed in on his scientist. “What makes you think I’m upset with you?”

“W-Well, it’s… uh… I-I don’t kn-know, you’ve just b-been kind of…” Flinching slightly as Black Hat rose from his seat to approach him, Flug greatly struggled to finish that thought, looking all around the lab to avoid any sort of eye contact. “Y-y-you’ve b-been s-st- staring a l-lot lately, a-a-and, um–” He backed up as his boss got closer, just barely catching himself when he knocked into the table behind him, “A-and th-the t- touching … I-I just d-don’t u-und-derstand w-what–”

Flug’s stuttering was cut short when Black Hat took the side of his face into his hand, turning the scientist’s head to make their eyes meet.

“Tell me, doctor,” Black Hat purred, “Do I look upset to you?”

“N-n-no…?” Flug squeaked in response.

“There is your answer.” His head lolled to the side, studying Flug far too closely for comfort. His hand slinked down from Flug's face, the doctor withdrawing a sharp breath as deadly claws traced along his neck before finding its new resting place on his shoulder. “Does it bother you when I touch you?”

“W-Would it m-mat-tter if it d-did…?”

The way Black Hat narrowed his eyes at him, the hints of an annoyed frown starting to tug at his lips, quickly startled Flug into correcting his behavior. He straightened his back, answering the question directly this time. “N-no sir, it’s n-no bother.”

Just like that, Black Hat seemed to relax again. “Good.” He pulled his hand away, returning to the couch to pick up his newspaper. “You look like you’re having trouble focusing, so I suppose I’ll leave you to it for now.”

And, just like that, he was gone.

That… did not answer any of Flug’s questions.

Honestly, it was likely in Flug’s better judgment to stop questioning these changes in behavior to Black Hat’s face. Confusing as their new dynamic may have been, at least it was better than getting thrown around like a ragdoll on a near-daily basis. 

That wasn’t the way Black Hat saw it, however.

The way Black Hat saw it, all of this peculiar behavior had been a simple case of testing the waters. Unfortunately, his next move would be one Flug could’ve never prepared for.

Aaaand here’s where things get a little tumblr-unsafe, so to the AO3 void you go! (Please heed the warning tags over there)

[hyprmemes]

bullet train (2022) starters edit as you see fit

“a father’s job is to protect his family”

“you never know what horrible fate your bad luck has saved you from”

“you are getting the new and improved me”

“i’m less reactive to situations, i’m more accepting of people’s shortcomings”

“you put peace out in the world, you get peace back”

“my bad luck is biblical”

“i’m not even trying to kill people and someone dies”

“talk about a candidate for self-improvement”

“please tell me you didn’t order the sleeping powder”

“you don’t have to nick the biscuits, man”

“i think they’ll notice the childish code names first”

“oh, now he’s callin’ a fruit sophisticated”

“when was the last time you ate a lemon meringue pie?”

“i’m sorry, are you talking about lemons?”

“you idiots work for my father?”

“we could deliver you back to your pops in a box”

“you ever watch thomas the tank engine?”

“i always bring my stickers with me, you know that”

“your daddy hired us to get you out of the trouble you got yourself into, didn’t you, naughty boy”

“you’re startin’ to get on my tits”

“our job is to keep you safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransom money inside”

“he doesn’t need a reason to kill people like you, he needs a reason not to”

“family’s more important than money, right?”

“why do i even bother forwarding you the briefings?”

“there’s this soulless psychotic leader with the largest criminal organization on the planet shoved right inside our fucking ass cheeks”

“if you mention thomas the tank engine one more time, I’m gonna shoot you in the fucking face”

“but i’m not in someone else’s story”

“you’re going to kill him for me”

“i will ruin your life the way you ruined mine”

“let this be a lesson in the toxicity of anger”

"talk to him or, like, talk to him?”

“you are fuckin’ excused”

“the guy who stabbed me, i spilled wine on his suit”

“i’m really gonna have to process my part in the incident on monday”

“i didn’t realize i was gettin’ a babysitter to come cut my bollocks”

“this rude enough for ya, ya fucking prick?”

“shove that fuckin’ hat up your fuckin’ asshole, you hear me?”

“gotta use your small inside voice in here”

“there’s a gun underneath this table pointed right at you, so i would…”

“you look like every white homeless man i’ve ever seen”

“well, you also have a shoot-able face”

“i’ve learned that with any potential conflict there’s an opportunity for growth, a path to a peaceful outcome”

“every day is a fucking headache with you, innit”

“you’re alive, i’m alive, everyone’s happy”

“i ain’t got the time or the patience, let alone the interest”

“would you describe me as someone who lives in perpetual anxiety?”

“it’s some fuckin’ ’80s dance-off, innit?”

“do us a favor, get the fuck off my back, will ya?”

“you shoot first and come up with the answers later”

“oh, my god, did you just say “whack”?”

“well, i don’t think they were in the market for fucking dildos and pantyhose, were they?”

“you’re a terrible father, and your son is going to pay for all the mistakes that you’ve made”

“i’m gonna go find a temple and reevaluate my choices or something”

“you’re gonna close your eyes, and i’m gonna count to three”

“you’re not even afraid and your lip’s quivering”

“thirty seconds before the venom does its thing”

“are you lying on the ground in the fetal position?”

“you gonna fuckin’ waltz up here and blow my brains out in front of the whole fuckin’ carriage of witnesses?”

“keep your fucking knickers on, all right?”

“make sure you do something that brings you peace, ’cause everything else is a pain in the ass”

“you’re not going to let me get hurt”

“a blind man could see you are the one in the dark”

“fate for me is just another word for bad luck”

“i will finally be allowed to make things right”

“when we are so quick to anger, we are slow to understand”

“i’m fast to kick your ass, though, i swear to god”

“i should’ve put a bullet through your ass!”

“why are you motherfuckers using metaphors?”

“i built myself up from the nothing you gave me”

“i’m more like you than that little fuck up ever was”

“kill me like you did all the others who tried the same”

“shouldn’t the plum give up all resentment?”

[battlemaiden13]

idk if you're taking imagines or not so feel free to ignore this if you want!

what would your HND skeletons and MC react to meeting their SSOM (six skeletons, one maid) alternative selves?

i feel like hnd sans will have the strongest reaction to his alternative self especially with the way he treats their version of maid MC

i also feel like the mc will spoil the maid rotten like 😭

I freaking love this ask and ever since I’ve read it I’ve been like brain rot of crossover. Not with Six Skeleton One Maid but another harem series where I’m just like MC from HND can go there and their MC can come to the main house in an accident and they have a day or week with the other skeletons (like one or three chapters, not long) and Error and Ink can fix it and IT HAS CONSUMED MY THOUGHTS! SO MANY SCENES ARE JUST EMBEDDED IN MY HEAD!! Like AHHHH. I would give my MC to this author and be like let me borrow yours and write them with your favorite skeleton that I write, they can make out I don’t care and you take my MC and make her talk to these skeletons so I can die happy, like a fic swap but I’m too scared to ask XD. 

Anyway you gave me brain rot, here's your answer. And obviously I can’t answer for @raccoonsinqueen and how her skeletons feel. 

Sans - They get along great at first and then the other Sans makes him extremely uncomfortable when he sees how Six skeleton Sans not only treats the human maid but also avoids any responsibility and hides when he is in the wrong. HND Sans also has a tendency to hide away when he is overwhelmed and he tends to be the bearer of bad news but he won’t actively run away and if confronted he tells his MC everything. 

Papyrus - Is confused about why the six skeletons Papyrus has a human as a maid. HND Papyrus just wants to help her do the chores, it’s way too much for one human. The two Papyrus’ do get along though and besides being a little confused HND Papyrus is ok with his counterpart at least. 

Red -HND Red sort of pity’s Six skeletons Red. HND Red might have had a rocky start with MC but they get on great now, they flirt and Red feels super lucky to be where he is in their relationships. He sees Six skeleton Red keep making mistakes though and can’t help but feel he won’t get anywhere with the maid acting like he is. He doesn’t necessarily have a problem with the structure of their lives, more that he feels this other Red is never going to get anywhere and doesn’t seem to want to learn. 

Edge -Thinks the other him is a prideful idiot and that’s his downfall. Look Edge can cook, he and the human have a good relationship, his brothers not terrified of him. Meanwhile Black is too stubborn to learn to cook, keeps fucking up with the maid, doesn’t communicate and his brother is terrified (or that’s what it looks like). Edge didn’t even need to trick MC into calling him boss, she did that on her own, meanwhile Black has to threaten his human to call him master. Edge thinks he is better than Black and won’t lower himself to prove it because anyone with eyes could see it. 

Blue -They actually get along pretty well. Blue thinks that the maid thing is odd but it’s not his dimension so he won’t say anything. He does end up helping the maid a few times with the cleaning, he just feels so bad. Blue also finds himself accidentally bragging about all the fun things he’s done with his MC. He really doesn’t mean to, he just gets reminded of things and likes to talk. 

Orange -Is sort of a dick to Master Orange. The two get along pretty well in the grand scheme of things but Orange feels he can tease the other version of him because while he has fucked up it hasn’t been nearly as bad as what this other him has done. Getting the maid to lie to him about being in love is just pathetic in Orange’s eyes. They are pretty similar though so there isn’t a whole lot to dislike between either. 

Berry - So Indigo isn’t technically Berry (it’s complicated) but he’s the closest to Berry and Berry hates him and how he treats the maid. He can’t stand him. Berry will literally leave a room if this skeleton comes in and Berry remains in work mode basically the whole time he’s there unless MC is around. Berry will be himself with MC. Berry hates Indigo so much he would rather go hang out with both Orange’s, literally two of them then be with the other him.  

Syrup -He doesn’t have much of an opinion on Purple other than the other skeleton is trying too hard and talks too much. He won’t actively seek Purple out but he doesn’t avoid him like Berry is doing to Indigo. Unless someone does something to upset MC or Berry, Syrup is going to take it easy here. 

MC - She loves the fucking Maid and is 100% kidnapping her. If any of the master skeleton’s come over to them she is going to shut them down so hard. She is also going to enlist the help of her own skeleton neighbors to help with the housework and they get it done fast. Mc is going to spoil that maid so much and she is not afraid to fight a skeleton to do it.

[kawaiibitchyfemale]

Rant

Sometimes i’m so tired. Tired of feeling. Tired of making mistakes. It just makes me want to give up and stop trying altogether. But I know if I’d do that things would only get worse and I don’t want that either.

I know there are ways for me to eventually learn healthy coping mechanisms. One thing at therapy stuck with me though: you can’t stop feeling. There is no magical potion for me to stop feeling and experiencing emotions and feelings the way I do but I can learn to deal with them.

That just made me so sad, the realization, the acceptance of the fact that I will always feel the things I feel is awful. My first thoughts were: I don’t want to live if that is the case. Why would I want to try, fail, try again and fight my entire life so I can ‘deal’ with my feelings instead of making them less or just not having them at all.

It makes me really understand people with addictions and sometimes a bad part of my brain is like: Dude you should totally do that instead of the shit you’re doing right now. But I know getting addicted to something that won’t make me feel at all won’t help me in the long run and will potentially, probably definitely make things worse in the long run.

So, what are my options? Continue going to therapy, fuck up things a billion more times and then eventually there is hope that I can ‘deal’ with my feelings. That I could have the socially acceptable response instead of saying what I actually feel and think at that moment. I know they say it would help me too but would it though? Or am I just paying a lot of money, pushing myself into uncomfortable situations just so I could cater to others? Not harm them with me being me?

It hurts to be called selfish so often, especially when you don’t try to do things with malicious intent. I don’t even try to do things with an ulterior motive. I’m so mean to myself; others are so mean to me. And I’m so done with making mistakes almost every single day. I am exhausted, I am overwhelmed and have been for the longest time.

No one believes in me anymore and I don’t blame them. I tried and failed so many things. If someone continuously says they’re working on it and trying but they fail time and time again, would you still believe in that person? But it still sucks that they don’t. I’m so done with being a failure, an embarrassment. People say they don’t but I know everyone looks down on me. Like some sort of fucking idiot that they should clap for every time I do something which should fucking be the bare minimum for a functioning adult. I’m so disgusted by myself. Always creating situations that are the opposite of what I want, always making people hate me time and time again. I just want to be loved, I wish I could be happy, or at least not miserable and feel so much all the time.

I learned that I should stop sharing my feelings and keep things to myself more often. Maybe I can eventually poison myself with my own thoughts and leave it at that.

I can’t talk with other people, because no one every really understands. That’s fine though, I’m so happy for them that they can’t. But it often makes me feel so alone. And then I fucking drain my loved ones time and time again by trying to talk to them but when did it ever help though? When did it do good?

I just don’t like being with myself. My head is not a nice place to be.

I even am disgusted by this entire thing I’m typing because it makes me sick and angry that a person that causes so much harm ( me ) can talk with so much petty about themselves. Blergh. Gross.

I’m tried, I wish I could stop feeling. I wish I could stop having opinions. I wish I just wasn’t me dude. I don’t like me, I sometimes don’t want to fight for me, I just want to delete myself from this earth and have people forget I ever existed. I don’t want to be a bother, but I am. To them and myself. I’m a stain that needs to be erased so others can be happy. Not be influenced by me. I’m too selfish, I have too many feelings and for 26 years now already I have been failing at doing better. When does one know when to give up tho? When have I tried enough that it is justified and not frowned upon to give up?

I know I must not give up, I know there is hope and that I have improved already over the years. But sometimes I swear I’m so tired, it’s so difficult and I just wonder why I do it. It’s not like I have the biggest will to live anyway. It’s not as if I have a future planned. I didn’t even think I’d make it this far tbh so I’m just winging it and trying to be a responsible adult.

Working, trying hard for others, going to therapy. But sometimes I’m so lost with who I really am and what I actually want. Especially when half of the time others say my thoughts / feelings / plans aren’t valid or will end up to nothing. Argh I’m ranting, I could go on forever but enough is enough. No more self pity. I guess I’ll try again tomorrow.

[lake-archive]

Chapter 2 - Useless!

AO3 Link

Fandom: Ensemble Stars

Series: Alte Liebe Rostet Nicht

Characters: Izumi Sena, Anja-Sophia 'Ann' Wolff (OC), Ritsu Sakuma, Unnamed Male Character

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Talk about a waste of space as well as a waste of money! Seriously, what was the agency paying them for if they couldn’t even do their own job correctly! One look at this goddamn paper and it was just stacked with so many mistakes. So many grammatical errors, let alone the wrong use of kanji sometimes. Or the basic hiragana and katakana! This thing is just unbelievable! What do they think they are doing!? They’re not paid for half assed work! No, even half assed work was better!

Of course Izumi had a right to complain about this. A translator’s job is supposed to be providing a proper translation no matter what! And this just so happened to be important for an interview he would have with a magazine from overseas. He needed the questions translated to properly prepare. But apparently this little translator hired from off the streets doesn’t have the basic qualifications! It is a mess, an utter mess! He could barely understand a thing! He was better off with the questions as they are!

Of course he would not let this slide, why would he? This was the sixteenth time! This moron cannot do the job right, even if they tried! So he saw it as his duty to give them a loud earful and he had been trying to do so for quite a while. However, they had ignored him. He may as well have been yelling at a brick wall. Oh wait, even a mere brick would know how to communicate better because this idiot didn’t even know how to form a straight sentence! Whenever he was talking to them it was long pauses or stutter, or a revert back into German. Who do they think they are!? They’re just some piece of work!

Eventually the model would have enough, slamming his hands right on the desk with all his might. He nearly flinched but wouldn’t let it get to himself. He had yelled his lungs out at that point, his throat all dry, but still nothing except for clacking sounds. That’s it! That little bitch!

“Hey! You’re supposed to listen when I’m talking to ‘you’!” He said in a mocking yet furious tone, only reluctantly referring to them by ‘you’. They may as well not be a person in his eyes, a thing. They were for sure no woman though. Yeah, their body was built like one but that? A woman? They didn’t even know how to get dressed properly, always showing up with a messy buttoned up shirt and some pants, not even hiding their literal fat. How no one else noticed or bothered was beyond him. Plus the bags under their eyes they did not even hide, not even with their glasses on… Oh god and don’t get him started about the mess of a hair! How could he see that as a woman!?

Either way, his mind was getting side tracked. He simply glared at them, waiting for their response yet could wait minutes for that. So once more he shouted: “Hey! Get the fuck off your computer already and listen up when I’m talking to a thing like you!”

It seems that may have made them snap all of a sudden, the clicking suddenly stopping. He spotted them letting out a sigh before turning right at him, their green–ish gaze glaring at the idol with utter annoyance. Oh what do they have to be so pissed about!?

“It’s ‘Anja’ Izumi–Kun…” Was their only response. Oh the nerve…

“Who gave you permission to call me by my first name?” He hissed right back at Ann, still not pleased by that. Yeah, they got some guts… So much he just wished to cut them open right then and there.

“Can not be saying Arschloch , right?” They responded, not even hesitating. And it sounded as broken as ever. “Not when working. I want to keep  this work.”

Izumi only rolled his own eyes at this. “Then learn how to do your job properly!”

“I’m doing properly.”

“Oh no, you’re not!” He countered while holding up the sheet of the paperstack he had been complaining about. “What is this!? Huh!? You call this ‘proper work’!? Even a donkey could do a better job than you could!”

“Odd… You only complain.” They shrugged, as if unbothered by his words to begin with. They even stared at him blankly… And it was pissing him off even more. Talk about a shithead!

“Because you’re being paid for work like this! You’re not even a third class translator! Do you even deserve to be paid for shit like this!?”

“Not paid enough to be keeping up with Arschloch .” That word again. Was that their only counter!?

“And that excuses your horrible result, how exactly?”

“Your excuse to be an Arsch ?”

Ugh, he really, really hates this thing! He could feel the tension rising, his blood boiling… He was about to punch them in their guts. It was what they deserved honestly! “You’re not answering my question!”

They only shrugged, their face as blank as it was before. “And?”

“And!? You mean ‘so what’, don’t you!?”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t you whatever me and explain it this instant! Or else—”

“Shut up. I’m working.” They responded as their gaze became even sharper, yet so did his. There may as well be sparks flying right between their very own gazes. “First you have to explain yourself for such a lousy service.”

“Service? Not doing a ‘service’ Arschloch .”

“Watch your tongue before I cut it out of your mouth.”

They suddenly got up, hands leaning against the table as they shoved their head forward, coming face to face with Izumi from very close up, a little too close for comfort even. “Try it.”

“Heh, you got some balls for an idiot.”

They only pulled out their tongue, as if waiting for it and mocking him even further. Oh, that’s how they want to play? Hah, then they can have it! Not like he’s gonna care! Cut their tongue out, rip it out— Where’s the difference? They dared him to now and they deserved it. If it makes them shut up, then so be it. Maybe they’ll be bearable if silenced by force. And if not their pain would be a delight to witness.

So he reached one of his hands out, about to grab the tongue with great force, just wanting to tug on it until it was literally ripped out their pathetic little mouth yet they would get interrupted from one sudden voice, an unfamiliar yet also unimportant one.

“See what I mean? They’re totally got something going on.”

“I don’t know about that… Secchan is about to try something horrible on Ann–Chan…”

“No no no. You don’t understand! They’re so into it! They won’t notice us!”

A quick sigh from the soft sounding voice. “I mean… I guess the image would be funny. Hmm…”

Though the two voices made the arguing duo turn their heads as Ann hid their very own tongue, staring at the door frame to spot a random employee of no importance as well as… Kuma–Kun!? What’s his business here!? Could it be—

“Eh!? R… Ritsu–San!?” Ann shrieked from one moment to the next and when Izumi’s gaze shifted towards Ann for a moment he saw them all flustered from one moment to the next, a little embarrassed even. ‘Ritsu’? First name basis? They aren’t friends, are they?

“Hello~” This one in question would only reply, as if half asleep while waving with one of his hands. 

“Ey, and I’m ignored!? I got business with you too!” The random male employee interrupted, rather early, and even huffed. Before Izumi himself got a word out Ann spoke up: “Ah– R.. Right! I’m sorry!”

It was as if their attitude had shifted from one moment to the next, going from the deadpan, cold, good–for–nothing big mouth to this young, soft spoken, nervous, shy employee who could do no wrong. And it was so annoying… They had this switch which pissed them off even more for some reason. But no matter… Why would it?

“Haha, it’s all good. Are you done flirting now?” This employee then joked, only to be met with two sharp glares at once.

“We’re not flirting you idiot!” The model yelled in pure anger. What the hell was this guy’s deal? The two were clearly fighting over here! How can anyone even think this is flirting, let alone joke about it!?

“Right right Secchan… We totally get it.” Ritsu threw in, waving the topic off rather quickly however. “Anyway, I’ll be gone soon. Just wanted to ask you something Ann–Chan.”

Their gaze calmed down instantly when turning to Kuma–Kun, then asking with a light head tilt: “Yes? What?”

“Nothing major… Just if I can drop Nyeli off for a little while. I got work.”

“Ah, sure. You can do that.”

Great… Of course the two talk about him again… That tiny cat creature. More like a small chibi with cat ears and a cat tail both are very, very close to. And this cat seems to love them too, always hopping up and down or hugging them on the spot. Kuma–Kun is his ‘Papa’ upon sight while Ann is called ‘Sisnya’ for some reason… Just the thought could make Izumi grind his own teeth. It didn’t sit right with him, perhaps making him almost envious. But he chose to ignore it all the same, maybe this was for the best…

“Great~ Thank you~” Ritsu nodded with a light smile before turning to his fellow unit member, then adding: “Secchan, don’t kill her now. I still need a babysitter.” “You sound as if I want their blood even on me…” He scoffed. Last thing he needed to come in touch with: Idiot blood.

“There’s still a risk you choke her y’know.” He even shook his head while saying that. “Just don’t kill her, alright? It’d be problematic if you did.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Izumi scoffed while folding his arms, his gaze all the more annoyed. Even if murder were legal, he’d not waste more of his precious energy on them.

“Just making sure~”

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.”

“Even if Izumi–Kun tried… Fail~” A snicker came out of the moron’s mouth, making one of his own eyelids twitch when hearing it. “Watch your mouth!”

“Uh… Just don’t kill each other while I’m gone…” Ritsu threw in, though still half asleep, making it impossible to tell if he was being serious or not.

“Oh, and don’t do that at work!” The employee of course had to say. “If you know what I mean~  Do it while we’re all go–”

“Shut up we won’t!” The two arguing said in perfect sync, the only thing they may agree on for their entire life.

Ugh… Why does Izumi have to keep up with a moron like Ann? Apparently the encounter at the airport wasn’t enough… This had to happen. Does fate hate him so much?

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

[clericofshadows]

7 snippets, 7 mutuals

got tagged by @rotschopf-thedrow :D ty!

tagging anyone who sees this and wants to participate!

I have a few misc WIPs I'm working on :)

icy nights, icy lights - Nyx/Kaidan, Noveria

Kaidan traced the lines of black ink on Nyx's arms, wondering what inspired the art. Wispy lines reminiscent of magic–or biotics even–were painted on the muscled arms, weaving together with the long since faded scars of war that also made their home on his skin.  Perhaps they were a sign of his biotics, a way of showing them off without being able to do it himself.  What would they feel like, alongside his, joining as one, combining mnemonics and dark energy to control the battlefield?  Or will he ever know them beyond secret moments of pleasure, flashes of blue held back by years of control and a custom amp and implant designed to keep him safe? Kaidan hated that he didn't know the answer.  A dark part of him, the jealous part that came about after learning about Nyx's history with Hackett couldn't help but fill his veins with cold ice. Hackett may not be a biotic, but he was probably more acquainted with Nyx's biotics than Kaidan will ever be. 

2. face your own enemy - Regis/Kaidan/Zaeed, continuation of my Citadel DLC write-up

Regis wasn’t impressed. “I don’t give a fuck who you claim to be. I’m Admiral goddamn Shepard, not you. You can be your own person!” He sneered, an ugly look that marred his face, twisting his features. “You’re the prize I want. It’s time I had my turn.” Kaidan stepped forward. “And you want to kill us so no one remembers Admiral Shepard.” “Ah, so you aren’t just a pretty-faced idiot,” he taunted. Zaeed stepped forward behind him, getting closer to Kaidan. The clone pointed at his husband. “And it looks like someone needs to put down your guard dog. I don’t like it when they bite. In any case, a personality change caused by the traumatic death of his little cult? Easily explained.” “It will never work,” Ashley said, raising her voice. “Too many people know Regis. You’re just setting yourself up for failure.” “Really? How unlikely it is that he’s surrounded by people he could have so easily killed. All three of you were so close to dying by fire and brimstone, and yet you continue to follow him.” His gaze landed on Ashley. “And you continue to fuck him.” He leered at his husbands. “He made such a terrible mistake in keeping all of you alive. Should’ve left you two to burn on Virmire. And let him burn in the flames of his own mistakes.”

3. LOTSB - Regis/Kaidan/Zaeed, my LOTSB write up.

“You… died in that armor,” Vasir stated, echoing his earlier words.  “How the hell did she get it?” “You tell me, Vasir,” Regis spat, dropping the remnants of his scarf on the ground.  “Take whatever you need, Wren, for your dossier.  I need some fucking air.” There wasn’t exactly a private place to go, so he walked over to the balcony next to the bullet holes.  Zaeed joined him, leaning against the barrier.   Regis moved closer, the shoulders of their armor touching.  “Zaeed, I am going to be the worst goddamn hypocrite right now.” He shrugged.  “Don’t feel like you have to apologize for goddamn Zorya again.  None of us expected to see that.  What a fucking–” he shook his head.  “Don’t even have the goddamn words to say how angry I am on your behalf.” “She has to have my dog tags.  My ring.  God, she tore that off of my corpse!  Cerberus didn’t have the full armor…” Regis swallowed down bile.  “I felt violated before, but this?” He let out a shuddering breath.  “This is unforgivable.”

4. wanna get caught? - Kaidan/Zaeed, PWP exhibitionism and sick!Regis who is tired of their mothering and wants them out of the house.

Zaeed pulled him into a familiar alleyway not far from their apartment, quiet, dark, free of foot traffic. “You goddamn tease,” he growled, pushing him up against the wall, dimly lit by the neon lights of the strip just outside the entryway. “Is this why you wanted me out of the damn house?” Kaidan only laughed, tangling a hand in his hair as he started kissing at his neck, leaving biting, stinging little marks. He got Zaeed exactly where he wanted him. Riled up, horny, and desperate. His favorite Zaeed. A little teasing sitting side by side in a booth was just enough. A hand on a thigh. Leaning on his shoulder and teasing him with a kiss that turns into a nibble. A trip to the bathroom to prep himself with a plug, knowing Zaeed recognized the slight change in his gait. Another reason why Kaidan enjoyed going on dates with only Zaeed. He indulged him and his kinks oh so well, both loving the thrill of being in public. Almost out of sight. Almost out of mind. One stray look is all it takes for them to be caught.

5. nothing will shine as bright - Kaidan/Zaeed, post ME2 prologue, Zaeed meets the Alenkos (i've been working on this for ages rip)

He found himself halfway over to the barn where he and Regis kept their motorcycles. He thought back to the damn helmets Zaeed had made for them, not even knowing about their hobby but wanting them to share in his. Yet another thing that had in common. Yet another thing that would’ve made their relationship great. Footsteps crunched the leaves behind him, and he whirled around to see Zaeed, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “Wasn’t about to leave you alone.” “Leaving me alone probably would’ve made them judge you even more,” he sighed, leaning against the wall of the barn. “I’m sorry.” “I wouldn’t make them the damn bad guys yet,” he said softly. “Just worried about their son who lost the love of his life and is shacking up with a guy damn near twice his age.” “Well, I’ll give them more to talk about.” Kaidan unlatched the door of the barn and headed inside. “Let’s go for a fucking ride.”

6. the SR-1 - Part of my Subject Zero!Kaidan series, primarily Regis/Zaeed.

It had been two fucking months.  Two months without hearing anything.  Sure, they’ve gone long stretches of time without talking to each other.  Normal in their line of work.  Not always able to send a quick message, especially with Regis’s N missions that typically required radio silence. But Kaidan’s mission was recon.  Typical UNC bullshit.  And a bit of a training venture for some new biotic recruits, as Kaidan had cemented himself into being an instructor like Regis if a need arose for it. It shouldn’t have been anything to worry about.   It never should have ended like it did. A whole squad, gone.  No sign of struggle.  No sign of battle.  As if they were never there. Nothing to give any sort of hope.   Two months since their last communication, well-wishes and ribbing about trainees and so much love.  And nothing after.   No investigation turned up anything useful.  Everyone lost hope day by day.  But Regis never did.  Zaeed never did, vowing to use what he could to look into it himself.   The Normandy was his only chance.

7. a beginning - Nyx/Kaidan, the aftermath of their one-night stand that turned into more.

Kaidan wasn’t quite sure what to think about the man lying in the bed a couple of feet away from the bathroom, watching him with those deep purple eyes that said a lot about him.  Gene modded, clearly, with a deep hue that contrasted his rough exterior.  He had to have been at least in his fifties, if not more, the skin marked by both war and natural aging. But one thing’s for sure, Nyx knew how to charm a man, even one that wasn’t normally for one night stands. “Doing okay in there?” he asked, making no move to cover himself up, turning towards him with a grin. “Just thinking,” Kaidan replied, dampening a washcloth with warm water, testing it with his hand before wringing it out.  “Dangerous,” he teased, running his hand down his chest, toying with those pierced nipples–and what a fucking surprise that was.  “Penny for your thoughts?” He was thinking about a lot, actually.  About how he thought he saw a flash of light blue rimmed around his eyes while he fucked deep into Nyx, pressing his weight into him, keeping a steady gaze on him, watching for any reaction that wasn't complete pleasure.  Biotics from a man far too old to be part of the first gen, much less any other stable gen.  Far too pure to be a trick of the light.  But maybe it was.

[elialys]

I see a lot of controversy around Peter "accusing" Olivia of holding them back while still having feeling for Altlivia and also Olivia choosing Peter over her memories in season 4... What's you take on those?

Disclaimer: this answer contains a lot of sarcasm, the defensive 2012 beast in me has been awakened. I didn't even want to talk about this ever again, but DO I EVER LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES?

Not to sound ancient, but those controversies are nothing new, I’ve been in the fandom (here) since late 2010, I was there when those things happened live, I saw the fandom implode and people go insane over and over again, like, I have legit fandom PSTD from all the INSANITY that took place amongst fringe fans, especially during season 4.

One important thing to remember that explains a lot for EVERY controversy surrounding Peter and Olivia is that a lot of people hate Peter. Peter is just not well-liked. And I don’t say this to be dramatic, like I said, I’ve been around for over 12 years, I’ve seen and read many, many posts as to why Peter Bishop apparently is the worst character ever and how Olivia Dunham deserves so much more than him. Peter can’t do anything right. He couldn’t do anything right BEFORE he got manipulated into sleeping with the wrong Olivia, and he sure couldn’t do anything right after he erased himself from existence to save two universes.

One thing I personally love about Peter’s character is that he is FLAWED. Like, he’s a proper DUMBASS, despite being a genius. I don’t need perfect characters who never make mistakes. I need believable character with horrible childhood trauma who turn into fucked up adults who struggle and make mistakes because of all that trauma.

Peter saying those thing to Olivia in 3x14 is so cringe. Like, my boy. It’s been a month, Olivia still has bangs from her time Over There, give her a minute. And the whole thing with him having ‘feelings’ for Altlivia? I think it’s one of the WORST LINES ever written because it’s so badly explained and utilized. I have literally written thousands of words in various fanfics trying to explain it in a way that makes sense. But basically it’s one of those times when I roll my eyes at the fringe writers, not at the characters themselves, who are dependent on what those writers make them say or do.

I have been called out for ‘putting it all on the writers’ before when trying to defend Peter (and his relationship with Olivia), but I’m just being honest. The writers were not always consistent with their writing, especially with Peter’s character. They made him purposefully more dumb than he was originally written on several occasions because he needed to be for their plot to work. So yeah, I can explain it all with trauma and PTSD and him just being an idiot, but I’ll still never forgive the writers for doing him dirty so many times and making it so easy for people to hate him.

That being said, I like that Peter calls Olivia out a bit, even if it wasn’t the right time or the right way to do it in that episode. That’s just one of those things I love about their dynamic. Olivia can be extremely indecisive when it comes to her feelings and being vulnerable, and I love that Peter often puts her on the spot so that she stops avoiding things and deals with them. It’s not perfect, but it’s them.

Honestly I don’t even know if I want to discuss season 4 and “Olivia choosing Peter over her other life”. When that episode aired in 2012, it created so much discord within the fandom that I have genuine anxiety thinking back on it, I’m not even exaggerating. People got NASTY. I have spent hours defending Olivia back then, and I’m exhausted just thinking about doing it again.

All I’ll say is that for as much as people have always hated on Peter, people have also always hated on the concept of Olivia being in love, in any season. Don’t even get me started on Olivia being a MOTHER. Olivia apparently is not allowed to be in love or have a child. She should just be her badass self at all time, someone who will never ever ever make any decision based on feelings. Because no one has EVER made decisions that seemed questionable based on our emotions, clearly. Like, can we talk about how selfish Olivia was for half of season 2, not telling Peter about his origins because she was afraid he would leave? No we can’t because that’s about Peter and we don’t like Peter and Olivia Dunham can’t be selfish anyway, CORTEXIPHAN WOOOO!

I also find it funny how people always forget that Olivia didn’t even have a choice in what was happening to her memories in season 4. Yes, sure, she did say to Nina ‘I’m going to let things run their course’ but it’s not like she could have stopped it. Her memories were being rewritten no matter what, she just chose to embrace it rather than fight every second of it, in part because yeah, she was in love, and she was caught in her feelings, and ew ew ew how dare you Olivia.

Truth is, I was so put off by the fandom’s reaction to that whole storyline from s4 that I can’t think about it objectively, haven’t been able to for 10+ years. It’s definitely one of those times when I think the writers had an interesting idea and concept, and they fucked it up a bit in its execution, which led to A LOT of drama. Of course I can understand why people are upset and bothered by how it was done. I see their points and even agree with a lot of them. But I think it’s just as valid to accept Olivia’s ‘choice’ and the fact that she was a woman in love, and she was, let’s be honest, just horny for some Peter lovin’

[drstdxtr]

2 idiots stuck in a cave, jokes ensue

Caesar and Joseph were currently trapped in one of Lisa Lisa's horrible traps again. It was dark and damp and musty.  They were stuck in this cave-like place,  with little food, light and space. The only food they had was the rations they were given that was supposed to last them for 48 hours. It had been well over 12 hours. The only light they had was coming up from way above them. Way above them. The only space they had was this small cave and the even smaller corridor going up. Much to the fear of Joseph, it looked like only one of them would be able to climb out at a time. To add onto the issues with the space the cave has a decent amount of stalactites with the occasional smaller stalagmite. To the left of the cave was an underground lake. It was relatively small but the rushing water did not help with Joseph's anxiety. 

Joseph looked over at his blonde lover. He seemed relatively calm and calculated. He also was noticeably in intense thought,  which Joseph admired. How he could think his way out of the worst things was admirable.  Joseph however, was not as calm or composed as the Italian sitting across from him. He was nervous and scared.  He tried not to show it though, for fear that Caesar would think of him to be tactless. He thought about what he could do but this was no Hell Climb Pillar. There was no oil to use Hamon on. From Joseph's point of view, there was really no way out of here. Has Lisa Lisa gone insane? Was she just trying to kill them? 

They hadn't been in there for as long as it seemed, with Joseph getting more restless and concerned by the passing hour. He was trying to format plans to no avail. Caesar seemed to notice this and carefully gave the brunette a brisk kiss on the cheek. “Look, mio caro, we’ll be fine. I’ll figure out a way to get us out of here.” Joseph swooned at the casual Italian pet name and his fears were temporarily halted. “How about this; since we’re stuck here and probably will still be in a while, we can joke around a bit.” Joseph perked up at that, he really did hate the drab, dark and dreary atmosphere this place provided. “I probably won’t be able to think of a solid fool proof plan if all I do is keep thinking after all.” Joseph nodded, it was important to take breaks. Even in situations like these. Okay maybe especially in situations like these. “You know,” Joseph started, fully prepared to get in the first laugh, “I’m quite grateful for you throwing out such a suggestion.” Caesar nodded, prepared to go on a rant before Joseph shushed him. Joseph then continued, “I mean, have you ever heard of a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety?” Caesar sighed, clearly not amused. “Have you ever heard of us?” Joseph was a little taken aback. He blushed and looked away. “Not fair, making things wholesome so quickly!” The brunette stuck his tongue out playfully at the blonde. Caesar just playfully rolls his eyes. His expression then turned serious, “You know it was a mistake for us to anger Lisa Lisa like that.”. Joseph nodded but was still in a playful mood. “A mistake we’re going to laugh about one day!” He said, trying to be enthusiastic as possible. Caesar deadpanned, “But not today.” Joseph kept roughly the same amount of enthusiasm “You’re right, today’s going to be a mess and so is tomorrow at this rate.” Caesar looked a little shocked. “You’re… right?” He seemed hesitant in asking such a thing, like he couldn’t believe Joseph said it. “That’s an unusual phrase for you tesoro. Did you just learn that?” Joseph playfully glared at Caesar and lightly shoved him, careful to not get him injured. All of a sudden, Joseph lit up. He had an idea. Now he just needed to convince his partner. “You love me, right Caesar?” The blonde being mentioned looked a little unnerved, before sighing. “Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation Joseph, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.” The brunette grinned a wicked grin, “I think I know a way of getting us out of here!” The blonde tilted his head slightly, confused. “And just how did you come up with that?” Joseph laughed and grinned more before revealing his plan. Even if it didn’t work, at least Joseph had Caesar. That was all that mattered for now. 

[logarhythm-bees]

To Unearth and Back Again; ⛅Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty One | Table of Contents | Chapter Twenty Three

See ronithesnail's absolutely wonderful art for this story!

And we have made mistakes But we've learned from them And the sun, it does not cause us to grow It is the rain that will strengthen your soul And it will make you whole

-I Have Made Mistakes, The Oh Hellos

Janus swirled the tea in his cup. 

“Let’s start with Roman,” Remus prodded. Janus flinched.

“He was the best avenue I could see to being listened to, after everything.” Janus spoke. “He was so easy to sway to my points. And Thomas so wholly admires him.” He clicked his tongue.

“The ease with which I could get him to agree with me was such a thin layer above his pride, though. And I think I egged at him too hard. I forget how susceptible Thomas’s ego is to bruising.

I pushed too far, made the wounds too sore. And yet, I was still surprised when he lashed out at me. I didn’t know, in my frustration, how much damage it would do to lash at him right back.”

Remus hummed affirmatively. “Are you going to apologize?”

Janus froze, looking out the window. “I’m sorry I called you the evil twin, that-”

“Not to me, you idiot.” Remus said. “Evil twin is a compliment in my book. But you know it’s far from that for Roman, don’t ‘cha?”

“...I do.” Janus winced, brokenly.

“I’ll try.” 

“And?” Remus said, rolling his hand and prompting Janus to continue. Janus picked up his tea again, grounding himself with the feeling of the mug. He thought hard, words wavering on his tongue, each rise and fall of his chest coming out a shaky breath and he wondered, trying to figure out what to say.

“Do you remember,” he asked in a whisper, “when Virgil was a part of us?”

“”Course I do,” Remus responded nonchalantly. “What’s your point?”

“I think it was easier, then.” Janus said, taking a sip of his drink and then setting it down on the table. “When we were younger.

I don’t know if I’d say the world was easy, because it was so blindingly black and white then. But it seemed, almost, like the boxes didn’t matter when we were young. We did what we wanted and tried to keep ourselves out of trouble. Now it’s so complicated. Self-sacrifice in the name of honesty, guilt in the name of self defense.”

“Perhaps,” Janus sighed, “I asked too much of what they had, but didn’t want to give. Virgil could make Thomas listen. Where we differed was to listen to what.” 

Remus was still staring at him, watching. “I guess I thought he would get him to listen to me. That is where I was wrong.”

Janus bit his tongue harshly, almost enough to bleed. “I don’t know if I can blame him.”

The wind blew outside the window, gently rustling the trees and carrying the quiet through the world.

“I suppose, when it comes down to it,” He continued, “it all comes down to self-preservation. 

I would’ve rather had Thomas do the wrong thing for the right reasons, but Virgil would prefer to have Thomas do nothing at all. Wanting the same thing, but never being able to agree how.”

Janus sighed, taking a sip of his tea.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Janus laughed, sadly. “We both wanted to keep Thomas safe, but all we ended up doing was hurting each other.”

“I remember,” Remus said.

Janus paused, gazing out the window. “I think we’re still hurting.” He looked over his tea, letting the steam coax away the stinging in his eyes. “Perhaps some of us more than others.”

Remus managed to sit quietly—he very well might have been making some silent but obscene gestures, but Janus wouldn’t know, peripheral vision gone fuzzy as he stared aimlessly at the plastic table as the warmth of the still-hot tea seeped from the porcelain into his hands.

“Do you think they’ll ever forgive me?” Janus asked. 

Remus sighed.

“You know that’s not up to me, Jan,” Remus said, staring straight through him and more earnest than Janus had ever heard him be. “But I think an apology might be a good place to start.”

Janus smiled softly over his tea, handle cool against his skin.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Janus said, and not even a hint of it was a lie.

[justforbooks]

THINGS I’VE LEARNED FROM RUNNING A “FAMOUS” TUMBLR

A few months ago, I ran across a post on Tumblr that declared that anyone who hit 1,000+ followers without following back was “Tumblr famous”. Which was news to me, because that means I’m Tumblr famous four times over! With a Tumblr that, for now, shall go unmentioned. This listicle is being posted on the decidedly-not-at-all-famous Tumblr that I run, because, now that I know that I’m a famous person, I have some thoughts to share…

1. That standard for fame is not especially high.

I’ve been kicking around this blue monster of a site since 2015, which that puts me at a (very rough) average of less than five hundred people per year, with about 4,000 followers. The thing is, when you’re actually at that number, it doesn’t feel like very much. For one thing, nine years is a long time to collect notes and people, one by one. For another, I’m aware of people who have tens, or even hundreds of thousands of followers; that’s what actual Tumblr fame is. Perhaps most importantly, mine is a themed blog. I post photos, and there’s no illusion in my mind that my followers are crowding around for glimpses of me, rather than the content I post.

While the two might not be mutually exclusive, it’s best not to confuse a follower for a fan, and it would be conceited— to say nothing of idiotic— to mistake followers who are moderately interested in the content for fans who are very interested in the moderator.

2. No, you don’t love all of your followers.

Generously, let’s say you love like… 99% of your followers. But, if you are like me, and you love to procrastinate doing anything that could be procrastinated in these past nine years, including but not limited to having a job, getting out with friends, and living a real life, then the fact that you just gained a new follower really means that you just gained a new spot on the internet to stare at slack-jawed for an hour and 10.000 posts of archived content.

So, to go back to that 99% number; about 99% of my followers are, by all appearances I can reasonably observe, perfectly great people. They like art. They like quotes. They like books and bookshops. The like reading.They like Disney, and the Avengers, and assorted other fandoms. A bunch of them are really into social justice. A much, much higher number than I ever would have guessed are into BDSM, but hey— you do you, kids. Safe, sane, and consensual all the way.

And then there’s that other 1%: they’re white supremacists. Or they’re MRAs, or they’re virulently pro-life, or they’ve drunk the Ayn Rand Kool-Aid which cannot be undrunk. To some extent, we expect hate on the Internet; it’s a little weird when it’s someone’s like which has you wanting to crawl under a table.

3. It’s work.

Piggybacking on that, one thing I want to make perfectly clear is that I don’t do this for the followers, because if I did this for the followers, I would have quit a long time ago. The reward (for me) is cooing over all the pretty, pretty pictures on the screen, the pictures that I collected together, and that everyone is invited to share (even you, Neo-Nazi follower… unfortunately). And while there’s a certain endorphin rush with every new follower at the beginning, a certain “Oh, can it be? Someone appreciates me!”, I’ve been doing this for nine years. The honeymoon period wore off a long time ago, and the truth of the matter is that getting eight posts up per day, almost every day (why did I do this to myself) is fucking work, man.

I don’t think I would have looked at it this way if Tumblr were around when I was fifteen (instead, we just had LiveJournal, but I won’t go into that), but: followers don’t put money in your bank account or food on your plate or a roof over your head. I suppose you could ask them for money, but I don’t, so. They offer community and camaraderie, which is great, but still no reason to make your blog for anyone but you. The compliments always make your day better, of course, but about that…

4. Every time you get a message, anxiety will punch you in the gut, because you might get one of these fuckers in your inbox.

Trolls, take note.

The worst message is not someone threatening to [use your imagination for the rest of this sentence]. The person who gets most under my skin is…

“Change everything about the content you produce to please me, even though I am a stranger who has never interacted with you before!”

There’s a fine line between a person making a request, and a person who assumes that your blog is public space and should cater to them. The difference can usually be found in the language: both will be peppered with please, thank you, and :), but the entitlement complex is going to work their way around to asking what they want, usually with some qualifying language that hints at why they think you owe them what they want, and maybe some negging thrown in for spice. They’re not going to come out and state “Follow me back, please”, they’re going to start with “I like your blog a lot, and I’ve been following for some time…” Theirs is the principle that if they don’t ask, they won’t get. It’s a principle that’s great for people who are timid and absolute disaster for people who have an overblown sense of entitlement.

Follow backs are the least of it. The worst offenders, like in the comment above, want you to change your very content.

I imagine this is a much larger issue in the art and comics world where, rather than merely asking you to post content according to their specific tastes and interests, these randos are asking you to create content according to their tastes and interests.

I want to emphasize how incredibly rare these messages are. They are not the majority of messages I get, nor even the majority of messages I get asking for me to do or post something. But hell if they don’t stand out. They put the moderator in an uncomfortable bind, because you have the distinct feeling that no matter how gently you try to phrase your no, things are going to turn nasty, quickly; after all, the only thing you know about this person is that they’re a little so-so with boundaries and social niceties. And you’re sure as fuck not going to say yes.

But the thing that’s wonderful about these people, no matter how much they make you see red seconds after you’ve finished reading their little fan mail, is that they actually lead to a great moment of self-actualization…

5. IT’S MINE, MOTHERFUCKERS, MINE

Tumblr.com may own the real estate, but they gave me the keys for now, bitches. While remaining within the parameters of legality, anything I decide to fucking do with my blog is fine. Because it’s fucking mine. If I decide to delete it tomorrow, then that’s that. If I decide that from now on it’s going to be a porn blog, then by Jove, that’s what’s going to happen. This isn’t public space; you can change the number of notes on a post, you can send me all the hate-mail you like, you can post rants about me on your stupid blog (which is, by the way, your very own, just like this one is mine), but you can’t change a thing, because It’s all mine!

Those are the THINGS I’VE LEARNED FROM RUNNING A “FAMOUS” TUMBLR

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com