#idk which he wants to do but the options have been put forth

[fanficmemes]

Life has been insane lately, but recently it has taken a much more Disney channel original movie turn. Allow me to explain. Many years ago (middle school) I was friends with this girl and we were very close, she had an older sibling with cool green hair and tattoos, genuinely didn’t even know I was bi but I had a huuuuuge crush on them. Fast forward to present day, through a series of what I consider some of my best choices I now have a date with the older sibling this week and like. Who gets to do that!! Who gets a chance with their childhood crush!! How am I gonna take this man on a date I’m so nervous!!!!!!!!!

[momo-de-avis]

Fun story. Sometime last year I started with a company that assigned random tour guiding jobs and eventually I got a gig with an australian company that did the same shit every year. Clients arrive in PT through madrid. My job was to give them a walk tour of Lisbon and Belém. This day it turned out I had a surprise: there was a second group I did not know existed, and which I had not been informed of, who needed to meet with my group at X hours in Lisbon. They had a second guide with them I didn't know who it was and had no contact with. The Tour Leader (TL), who has a cabbage for a brain, instead of giving me the tour guide's contact as I requested, called the second tour leader who put the tour guide on the phone to then speak with me through my tour leader's phone, which has to be the most complicated method imaginable. A point to note here is that the other guide was super difficult. He refused to find a solution with me because "he was not told what to do" and I eventually had to force him to accept a conclusion bc idk this fucker couldn't solve a very simple problem.

This is a bus gig. I'd never done buses before but I'd done Belém plenty of times and was pretty comfortable. All I had to do was pick up a mic and speak to them about the city. Easy.

Imagine my surprise when the absolute dork ass loser of the bus driver puts his hands on the wheel and says "tell me the way". And I'm like. What the fuck do you mean. He means it's my job apparently to instruct this professional bus driver who refuses to turn on his GPS on the exact path from butt fuck nowhere Marques de Pombal to Belém. Literally turn left, right, straight ahead.

Important detail here is that the clients are australian, so the tour is in english, but the dumbass tour leader and the even dumber driver are spanish, so I am actually switching back and forth between english and spanish during this whole ordeal (at one point I did accidentally speak spanish to the australians, yes).

Somehow we arrive in Belém without crashing the fucking bus and I do my job. I know the clients had a good time and that's all I care about.

Then we return to Lisbon. Yes I had to yet again provide the BUS driver minute by minute instructions on how exactly to return, and while doing so, I was grabbing the mic, speaking in english about the city, lowering the mic and quickly going "ahora todo recto hasta el edificio amarillo y despues a la izquierda". i have never multitasked this fucking hard in my life. We get to central lisbon, where I was instructed by TL to meet with the other group there, so the people on my bus would be dropped off.

Now, I came to learn that every month this shit happens, and yet they fuck it up every single time. Basically, the tourists are given a plan. The plan states that they are going from point A to point B. At point B they can decide if they want to go to point C. Those who don't want to are promised a ride back to the hotel, those who want to hop onto one of the buses and head over to point C. Except every time, there's no ride back to the hotel, they just leave them stranded in the middle of central lisbon.

But at the time I did not know this.

So imagine my face when I deliver my clients to second group, and out of fucking nowhere, there's this angry Australian lady who is speaking to second TL, and then she turns, spots me with fucking T1000 eyes, lifts her finger abd aggravatingly says IT'S ALL HER FAULT!

At this point I'm like. So help me god. What else is coming. Now, my TL is mushy brain but in his defence he immediately stepped forward and defended me. But meanwhile this woman is still T1000ing me and insisting everything was my fault, when I don't even know what everything is. And it's then that I hear her say "our tour guide said to us she changed the plan!"

She means the afore mentioned plan of going from A to B and then optionally going to place C. She was rightfully upset that she'd been informed she'd have a bus ride back to the hotel and now was stranded in central lisbon (their hotel was not central at all). However, their tour guide, which happens to be the difficult motherfucker I had to communicate via three different phones in the most complicated way right before starting the tour, apparently panicked and instead of doing the correct thing which was relay the lady's complaints back to the TL, he threw me under the bus, accused me of changing plans I didn't even know existed, and hoped for the best.

Mind you, I did not blame the lady. I'd be proper pissed in her place too. But that was the moment I became T1000 and looked around for this motherfucker.

And when I saw him I realised I knew who this piece of shit was.

It turns out he's a tour guide who worked for a Free Tours company whose name I wont give out but they wear yellow, which is an incredibly predatory company, and I say this with full confidence because I actually interviewed for them and it was the most pathetic job interview I've ever experienced. It's the kind of place you pay to work (free tours the guide has to pay 3-5€ per client and they rely entirely on tips, they don't have wages. Kind of like real estate but more predatory). The guides for this company have their meeting spot in the same square as we do (as do several other companies).

This was the only stupid ass who always started shit.

He once screamed at a coworker of mine because he insisted they owned the square (I'm talking about fucking Rossio). He once offered violence to another coworker of mine, I don't even know why anymore. He once tried to start shit with me too. He spoke to some of my clients who had arrived before me and when I got there he went on a fucking rampage going "WE'RE GOING TK START STEALING YOUR CLIENTS BECAUSE YOU PEOPLE ARE ALWAYS LATE". I let him have it and stayed quiet. When he was done, in most dead pan tone, I just said 'mate there's 10 minutes left before the tour starts, go do your job'.

You ask anyone who regularly tours in Rossio they will know who this fucker is. He is rude, aggressive and a piece of shit.

And apparently a fucking coward too.

Instantly after that, I picked up the phone and called the company, who only called me back hours late cause lol, and told them this would never happen again. After explaining that next time I will refuse to do anything whatsoever if a bus driver ever tells me it's my job to tell the way, I explain that if I were them, I would never collaborate with this absolute piece of shit again bc this is unprofessional beyond belief.

I have since been forgotten by that company lmfao they literally stopped calling me but to be fair it was an amicable divorce bc I swore I'd never work with them again.

It's been like 7 months. I come to learn that piece of shit stayed in that shit ass company nonetheless which shows just how desperate they are. In this time that has since passed, a couple of guides who know what happened asked me what the guide's name is so they are sure to refuse work with that guy.

Turns out that list is growing lmfao there's at least 3 or 4 more guides who have since refused to work with him because he is such a piece of shit.

No idea where he is now. Haven't seen him in a while. Genuinely wonder how tf he is going to build a career in such a small field when he keeps burning every bridge.

[stardustmorozov]

All The Things We Hide In The Dark Chapter 3

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader

A Beauty and the Beast AU

Part 1 Part 2 AO3 Link

Summary:  Chased by Drüskelle and out of options, Reader (You) seeks refuge in the remote Little Palace which is rumored to be haunted by a beast and his ghosts. But he is not the only one who hides dark secrets…

Warnings: slight body horror? (idk Aleksander has a nightmare and it feels nasty), man does not know how to communicate feelings or how to cope with having human companionship in over a fuck off long period of time, (lemme know if I forgot something)

Word count:

A/N: Soooo.... it has been quite a while since I posted the second chapter but now it is finally here! I am pretty happy with how this chapter turned out so I hope Y'all enjoy it! A/N: And a tremendous shout out to @dreamlandcreations for beta reading this chapter for me!

When Aleksander had lost his sense of up and down, he did not know. The distinction between left and right, back and forth not more important than that he knew he was coming apart at his seams. His shoulders, back and hands tearing themselves open to give the overwhelming power, that had taken hold of his body, an outlet.

Only for the shadows that curled around him to find a way back into his body, pushing past his eyes back into his head, past his lips, inside his lungs, making him unable to breathe. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't escape the nightmare that surrounded him. Never.

Startled awake by the lack of air in his lungs, he wasn't sure if he was still trapped in the nightmare as the shadows around him were coldly pressed to him, prickling his skin as they slowly dissipated along with the erratic pounding of his heart.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he wondered if the strange girl was still in the palace.

Part of him wanted her to be gone. He had been trapped here for centuries and he didn't need the painful reminder of his mother’s curse. Neither did he want to think about how the mysterious girl could go wherever she wanted, not confined to the walls of the palace like him. Because, in spite of the sprawling size of the palace, after a few centuries the walls had slowly started to cave in on him.

His body heavily protested when he tried to get up and somewhere in the back of his mind he wished that he wouldn't wake up anymore, to be free of the nightmares that plagued him every night. To be eternally at rest.

He muttered a slew of curses under his breath as he willed himself to get up. The cold of the room that greeted him not very different from how the shadows that clinged to his body at all times.

On better days, they were barely visible and he could almost forget that he had been trapped in the palace by the spell that had been put over him. Until Ivan or Zoya would inevitably find him, their physical state a harsh reminder that the people he'd tried so long to protect had been robbed of their power in his search to expand his own.

The cold structure of his mask laid rigid on his face, a stark contrast with the soft and malleable Kefta around his body.

His mind drifted back to the girl, wondering if she'd left. The image of her fearful face as she disappeared out of the heavy oaken doors making his heart sink into his stomach.

Perhaps his loneliness was getting more to him than he wanted to admit.

He wondered why she had stayed in the first place, he hadn't exactly been welcoming to her. The sound of her frightful running footsteps ringing in his ears. From what gossip he'd overheard from the other wisps, the entrance door had locked itself shut. Others had told tales of the windows doing the same.

Refusing to open. Refusing to let her out.

Her words echoed in his head.

I gladly would have left. If every way out didn’t keep shutting itself right in front of my face.

It seemed more like a hopeful dream than reality and wondered if centuries alone had finally driven him to madness. To have him hallucinate a companion to alleviate the painful emptiness of the palace now that he was near the end of his days? He could only guess.

But then, even if he had been making her up, the wisps should not have known of her presence.

The shadows that follow him clung to the walls as he passed through the hallways, as it had become a habit these days, the windows and their views still the same as they were centuries ago.

Mountainous hedges still lined the outsides of the gardens; neatly patterned flower beds laying barren, waiting for someone to put new seeds in them; Bushes that had grown far out of control sprawled out over some of the pathways and somewhere where the apple orchard had to be was nothing to be seen but a mess of trees that had stopped bearing fruit long before the reality of the curse had settled into him.

Yet there was one thing that managed to catch his eye.

From the far corner of his field of vision he caught three shapes, leisurely strolling over the gravel paths in what little sun had decided to show itself today. Or at least, one of them was. The other two figures, whom he now recognised as Fedyor and Genya, simply floated beside the new guest.

Or resident, if she too was now bound to the walls he'd spend so much time between.

He shook his head at his own wishful thinking, memories of small groups of people seeking shelter in the stables coming back to him.

They were never rich or looked to have any money on them. Always seemed like they were minutes away from freezing and more often than not, dressed in what could easily be mistaken for dish rags.

He'd never dared to get close to them, always staying far enough that even the normal, conversational tone would only reach his ears like whispers. His shadows had always been intimidating to others; Even when he could control them.

People had always referred to him as odd in all sorts of senses of the word. None of them had ever been kind, but he'd learned to live with it. To brush off every insult they hurled at him like snow on his coat. Yet there was one he had never been able to shake. Perhaps because it told him how he felt about himself, perhaps for reasons he would not reach for.

Monster, they would call him. Hideous, inhumane, incapable of any good deed or intention.

His scars stung under his mask at the thought. Another painful reminder of what he had lost in his desperate search to protect the Grisha. To protect his people.

He watched the trio from his high position at the window, his face only inches from the cold glass as he observed every move and he couldn't help but to be fascinated with the girl between the wisps, shame creeping up his face when he realised he never had the decency to ask for her name.

She laughs along to a joke either of the wisps told and a fleeting thought makes him wish to know what it sounds like. Yet as soon as he tried to get a hold of it, the idea was gone.

He watched for what could be mistaken for hours as Ivan's formless wisp floated up next to him.

"Barely a day here and she's already stolen the hearts of the two best informants we have."

There was a bitter tone to his teasing lilt. "I can't say if I find their hopefulness foolish or not."

"We've been waiting centuries," Aleksander simply said, "Someone was bound to show up one day."

"Funny she should have come here the very same night we were locked into this place."

"Did she?"

He hummed in confirmation and Aleksander was surprised that he still kept track of it after a good millenia had passed.

He tried to suppress the feeling of anger and distrust that rose to the surface at the implication of Ivan's words. But it was impossible to hide as his shadows coiled and curled around him like angry waves as they rapidly filled the hallway, threatening to swallow the wisp of the man beside him.

His eyes returned to the trio in the garden where they had taken to the shade of one of the dying willow trees. From his position he couldn't exactly see what they were doing, but seeing Genya and Fedyor fly around her excitedly only made him more curious.

Yet Ivan's words burned in his mind.

He didn't want to believe she'd stoop that low, but then again, she'd locked him in here, hadn't she? What would stop her from forcing someone into his arms?

Shadows started to creep in from the edge of his vision, the gilded edges of the window already covered in the black tendrils as he tried to put the idea aside.

He wished she'd cursed only him, for the rest of the Grisha to go unharmed. If at this moment it only meant he could check with Fedyor if the girl had indeed been telling the truth. But she had robbed all of them. Of their power, of their physical presence. Of their lives.

They were not dead, but neither were they truly alive, only occupying that weird space between the living and the dead.

With a heavy heart he turned himself from the window, back to the path he was going. Why he hadn't thought of his mother being behind this, he did not know. What he did know was that it was foolish to have hope. To have the slightest inclination that he might be freed from this place.

Perhaps the centuries of loneliness had indeed turned him into a fool.

He didn't see the girl for the rest of the day. In part because he refused to look for her, the other part avoiding her. He knew the palace didn't agree, having learned to read the moods of the building after all the time he spent between its walls.

"Disagree all you want, but she's not the person we're looking for," he quietly muttered under his breath, paying no mind to the few wisps he passed.

The shift in atmosphere was the palace's answer. Still disagreeing with him.

At times he hardly thought the palace had gotten a will of its own and had instead inherited that of his mother.

Which once again became apparent when he found himself in front of the garden doors. He'd long given up on trying to open them, the locks immediately shutting on themselves when he only reached for the handle.

A cruel way to separate him from the rest of the world, but perhaps for the better now that there was a new visitor. His stomach twisted as he once again watched the girl interact with Fedyor and Genya. It had been too long since he'd seen them like this. Laughing with each other without a care in the world, and of who might be watching.

But then there was also the inevitability that one day, she would leave. Leave this accursed place in search of better fortune and he couldn't say he blamed her.

Part of him wished he still cared enough to at least try and open the garden doors, the other part snidely reminding him they would still lock themselves as soon as he touched the handles.

Shaking his head, he turned away from the scene before him, squashing the spark of hope that tried to rise within him again.

There would be no end to his confinement. Not until time would finally wear on him enough that death would be a mercy granted to him.

And even if his mother had sent her here to free him, he doubted she could truly love him.

Once she learned what he had done. To Ravka. To the Grisha.

History proved that time and time again. At kindest, they called him an idealistic fool who got drunk on his own power, at worst, they called him a demon. A monster sent to deceive and destroy them all.

He turned away from the doors to make for his office, far away from the garden and even further away from the girl that raised false hope in him every time he saw her.

Perhaps it would be the best for them both if he stayed as far away from her as possible. To keep them both safe from the corruption that he seemed to take with him wherever he went.

The following few days he managed to avoid her pretty well. Only a few times nearly stumbling into  her as the palace seemed hellbent on making them meet. Even if it was just in passing, Aleksander would have none of it. Love had only hurt him in the past, whether that be by the people he held close or by others who hurt those people and it would not heal him now.

But just like the mind of his mother, the palace was a tricky thing and it took the building only so long to figure out how to get the general and the new guest to meet again.

He'd mostly kept to his own office and his private quarters, occasionally taking a long stroll through the winding halls of the palace, purposefully making it difficult for the palace to get them in the same room again.

It was about a week after he'd decided to avoid her that he needed something from the library, wisps coming and going around him, some accidentally passing through him, though he hardly felt the difference anymore between them and the shadows that clung to him.

The library seemed to be empty, thick layers of dust coated the books on the shelves. The silence so thick Aleksander could swear he could touch it some days.

Quietly he moved over the pathways, scanning the books for the title he was looking for.

His movements were suddenly halted as someone crashed into him. In a flash of panic he wondered if someone had broken into the palace. To kill the monster hiding behind its walls. What he found instead was the girl who had arrived a few days ago.

He only realised his shadows had started acting up again when she started apologising for not paying more attention to her surroundings.

"It is okay," he reassured her, "I wasn't paying attention either." It felt strange to hear those words leave his lips. Even when he was still human, he hardly apologised for anything to anyone, yet the loneliness of the palace seemed to have changed him in ways he never thought of.

“I see you’ve taken an interest in the history of the Grisha,” he said as his eyes fell on the books she’d nearly dropped when they’d crashed into each other.

“My mother was Grisha. I thought I could perhaps learn more about what she could do and who her people are. Should be a lot easier now that I don’t have to look over my shoulder constantly…”

A wry smile twisted over his face. If it were up to the palace, she would have all the time in the world. Not that he would tell her that, it had probably already taken her more than enough courage to let Genya convince her to stay when the palace had locked her in, he wouldn’t ask her to muster it again with the revelation that she would be stuck here with him for far longer than either of them planned on being.

“Is there a particular title you are still looking for?”

“The Lives Of The Saints, sir. I tried asking Genya, but she wasn’t of much help unfortunately. I suppose there are downsides to being a formless wisp when you can’t touch a book.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that as he remembered David and Zoya going through the same issue when they couldn’t read their favourite books anymore.

“Well, if memory serves me correctly, it should be here.” he said, fishing a slim, dusty book from one of the top shelves, pleased when he indeed turned out to be correct.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you. I hope you find what you are looking for as well.”

She disappeared quietly between the shelves with a last goodbye, leaving him alone once more.

“You like her, don’t you?” Genya chuckled from behind him, his shadows lashing out at hearing her voice.

“She is the first human being any of us have seen in a good milenia. I can’t say that I don’t find it hard to remain indifferent to her.”

“Still not entertaining the thought that maybe, just maybe, she might be here to lift the curse?”

“You know that is a foolish hope Genya. She wants to be here just as much as any of us do. She’ll leave with the first chance she gets.” His heart grew heavy at the thought. A grief clawing at him that he could not simply free the Grisha confined to the palace and leave him with the fate he deserved.

“General, you know just as well as I that she can’t. She won’t leave. Not before the curse is lifted anyway.”

“You know she will once she discovers what happened. What really happened. She won’t stay and if she does, I refuse to believe she will do so because she wants to. She will stay because this accursed place will make her.”

And because no one can love a monster like me, he thought quietly to himself. Without another word, he turned around to leave the library, too angry to care about his shadows enveloping the aisle or to look for the book he wanted to read.

When the evening came, he was still stewing in his anger. As much as he liked both Genya and Fedyor, they seemed to have been completely taken by the ridiculous notion that she would save them.

He could tell the walls were scolding him for such a thought and that maybe he should’ve been more open to the possibility of being freed before it had to resort to more desperate measures. To not let him be able to scare her away.

“General? She has prepared dinner for you andherself in the kitchen.” The quiet voice of one of the servants alerted him, the shock of it suddenly piercing through his train of thought alarming him. It was a bad habit he seemed to have developed since the arrival of their guest, one he really had to kick to the curb if he somewhat wanted to keep the illusion that he had a certain amount of control over his shadows.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

Prepared food. It was something that had become a distant memory over the years. Time stood practically still between the walls and had completely eliminated his need to eat. Yet the mention of her making something for herself, no for the two of them, made his stomach twisting like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

He quietly wondered what sort of food she’d made. Being on the run often didn’t allow for fancy meals or long cooking times and from what he remembered when he was a child, food consisted mostly of old bread and nearly gone bad meat and cheese. If anything, it was a miracle he’d lived long enough to see the creation of the Fold.

The kitchen, for the first time in what should have only been yesterday, smelled sweet of the warmth of a fire, a finely cooked broth and he could swear he picked up on the scent of roasted meat.

“I see the cooks were generous enough to teach you one of their recipes.”

“They did. I didn’t really think anything would still be of use here after sitting unused for so long, but I was pleasantly proven wrong. I hope you’re hungry, because there is a lot,” she strained as she lifted the heavy pot away from the fire.

He had to admit that it did smell good, which either meant that they’d kept an annoyingly close eye on you and the food or that you were quite good at this; Probably to the cooks’ dismay.

To his surprise, Aleksander found that the food put in front of him was far tastier than anything he could remember from when he had last snuck into the kitchens for a snack when the rest of the staff had turned in for the night and the thought made him bitterly aware that even the memory of good food had become distant and foreign to him.

He tried not to let the feeling show too much, even if it was probably in vain but he continued to eat, hoping he could at least not make her think she did a bad job on the preparation of their meal.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before he asked: “How has your search into Grisha history been going?”

“Well, I’ve been learning a lot. Small science is a fascinating subject. Though, I do wish there were sources about it with less of a bias against Grisha since they all seem to describe it as some arcane sort of witchcraft.”

“I am sure the other Grisha here would be more than happy to help you distinguish myth from reality.”

“Oh they are. It is kind of my own ’fault’, for lack of better wording, that I can’t really grasp what it really is and does from text books and word of mouth alone. Not that it stops me from trying to understand it anyway.”

A soft warmth filled his chest upon hearing her words. To know that she still wanted to learn about the Grisha even when both history and her own ability to learn were trying to work against it.

“But how did this place come to be exactly? I always thought the Little Palace was a fairytale Grisha parents would tell their kids so they would sleep soundly at night. To an extent anyway.”

Aleksander’s heart twisted in his chest. “The Little Palace started as a dream of a shadow summoner not long before the creation of the Fold. They managed to work their way up into the Ravkan court of the ruling dynasty at that time and over an extended period they got enough support to have the place built, though it took a few decades for the construction to be completed.

Since then it has served as a refuge for Grisha fleeing the violence and condemnation they would have to face elsewhere.”

He could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to make sense of his words. Sooner or later she would ask the inevitable question of how the Grisha here ended up as wisps except for him and he had to admit to himself he did not have a good lie ready. At least not one that would remove her probably growing suspicion on what was going on.

He could sense his shadows curling nervously in the air and cursed himself for not having a better grip on either his emotions or his shadows.

“Sensitive topic?”

“It is not exactly one of the things I like discussing the most, no.”

“I understand. History has uhhh… not exactly been kind to shadow summoners.”

By her reaction to him, he knows his shadows are intimidating her and a voice in the back of his head tells him he should probably comfort her; He knows that if he did she would keep asking questions about the palace, what happened to it, and by extent what happened to its Grisha residents and to him; Why he seemed to be the only human being in the place while the other Grisha resembled his shadows more than their own bodies.

His frustration clung to the walls as he tried to clear his head. Why did she make him feel this way? Why could she so easily reach into him and touch exactly what he was afraid of she would reach when he had spent more time than he cared to remember building walls around himself to ensure that would not happen.

He cursed at his mother for his predicament, for locking him up; For taking his control over the shadows; but most of all he cursed her for what she did to the Grisha in the palace and for the false hope of  that impossible promise about  true love she’d given him.

@blissfullybarnes @stuckysdaughter @hagarsays @ohsorandomlyme @bat-revival @littlebobree @profoundme444 @psychomanias @joossieisdabomb @thecatempire @hummelmia @kahlanmars @intothesoul @sarcasm-n-insomnia @jack-napier-2008 @phantomofmoon @marvelmusing @idaofinfinity

[beauleifu]

Uh- Mk x Reader Comfort? Like Mk has so much pressure from Sun Wukong that he's became really upset and then they cuddle or something idk, theres barely any mk x readers so RESPECT TO THE MK SIMPS

Of course! And yes, I agree, there should be wayyy more MK x readers I SWEAR

Anywayssss, 1.4k oneshot, hope you enjoy!

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

MK X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: You have to cut your shift early due to a rather concerning call from your partner, MK. But don't worry, you're an expert at providing comfort and reassurance when people need it most - although Sun Wukong might have something different in store for him.

TW: None

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It all started while you were at work. Tasks were boring and you'd supplied yourself with mainly packaging the necessities for the staff to put to good use.

It's not like you enjoy working there, not like you want this, but the pay was too tempting (sparkle money sparkle).

With a sigh, you wipe sweat off your brow and continue working. Air conditioning is maxed out at the moment, and yet you still have to keep your arms down so no one catches a glimpse of your damp pits. Neither does the heat help employee performance; your coworkers are even more lazy than usual, slouching around like slugs.

Three more hours, you tell yourself.

Then, you'll be free.

So you bite your lip rather hard and motivate yourself to package the last of the food in little bags.

Until, of course, destiny rings the phone and you rush to answer. Well, you almost do, tempted as you are. But you work in the back, so answering the phone isn't on your itenerary even if you had nothing else to do. Instead, the cashier answers, and you hear their chipper voice from the back where you stand (probably in people's way, but it's not spacious back here to begin with). People walk back and forth, lugging boxes of food for shipment, others balancing plates stuffed with food for the customers in the dining area. You're just here making sure the food is well stocked.

Someone suddenly peeks into the back. I'ts the cashier who'd answered the phone, and the object has yet to leave their hand.

"Y/N?" They call, making you look up. "Someone's on the phone, wants to talk to you."

"Me?" You ask, baffled.

They nod, simply walking over with the phone outstretched.

You glance down at what was once your hands, now gloved and covered in greasy fat from the meat you'd been packaging. "Okay! Just hold on, lemme-" Rather harshly, you yank the plastic gloves off and wash your hands as thoroughly as possible. "Who is it?"

"Uh, MK? That's their name, I guess."

Oh.

Oh!

You blink in surprise, and once your hands are done drying, you quickly take up the phone and unmute it - but not before waving the cashier off. "Thanks. I'll take care of it."

"Is it an emergency?" He asks, leaning against the doorway. "You need to leave?"

"Nah, MK probably just needs help figuring out where I hung up his favorite coat. It did need washing, but I forgot to tell him this morning, so . . ."

With a smile in the cashier's line of sight, you turn around and hold the phone to your ear. "Yello?"

"(Y/N)?"

You smile at the familiar voice of your partner. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Um . . . nothing! I just wanted to make sure you were having fun at work and stuff, also, when do you get off?" He doesn't respond with 'the ceiling' as he usually does, which gives cause for concern. The way his voice is tainted with anxiety doesn't help the worry you suddenly feel, either.

Frowning, you look around to make sure you're alone. "I get off in like, three hours. If you're looking for your coat, it's probably still in the wash, MK."

"No, it's not that . . . Wait - my coat? My orange jacket? You-" MK cuts himself off suddenly. ". . . Ok. Thanks."

"Something wrong?"

"Um. No."

All right, now you know something is bothering MK. For a moment you weigh your options, glancing around as though the walls could answer your questions. "Okay . . . okay. Imma end my shift early."

"W-What?" MK sounds baffled. "Are you sure?"

He sounds so small. So defeated and tired - it makes your heart clench. With a nod of affirmation (even though MK can't possible see it), you head to the front of the store, talking all the while. "Yeah, I wasn't even supposed to work today. Wanna get a movie going at your place? Or you wanna take a walk in the park or something?"

A pause.

You have time to tell your manager your situation while MK thinks of a response.

Thankfully, the dude lets you go with just a warning, so you then head to the cash register to return the phone. MK finally sighs. "Yeah . . . okay. That sounds nice."

You bite your lip. "MK, are you sure you're all right?"

Your partner rewards you with another bout of silence, and you're inclined to wait by the cashier who'd given you the phone. Then, MK clears his throat rather awkwardly, his voice sounding small; "It's just . . . meh. Sun Wukong's been putting me through a lot. Nothing bad! I'm just . . . tired?"

Ah. Brow furrowing thoughtfully, you adapt a deep frown and hum. "Okay. I'm on my way."

You hang up after that, handing the phone to the cashier with a stony expression. Sun Wukong is in danger of being your new rug if your suspicions are confirmed.

"So I was right?" The cashier hums. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Good luck."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"I'm back!"

Your call echoes blankly through MK's apartment as you walk in and shut the door behind you.

Of course, it's not that big in here, so you instantly spot your partner on his bed, swathed in blankets so thick that no part of his body is visible to you. With the remote in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other, he searches for a movie to watch.

You can't help but frown at the mess.

To his credit, he isn't around very much anymore. Sun Wukong is practically stealing your boyfriend from you.

Said Monkie Kid glances over the moment you walk inside.

"Oh. That was fast!"

His voice sounds too chipper. With a cautious smile, you saunter over and glance down. There's room for you on the edge of the bed. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah!"

Doing so, you fumble with the hem of your sleeve, trying to come up with a way to weed the truth out of MK.

"So."

His movements pause. "Sooo . . ."

"Sun Wukong running you harder than Pigsy did during rush hour last Friday?" You start, smiling at the memory. MK was literally a blur, had to chug at least three Red Bulls to keep his body at functioning level. There was no time for distractions, no room for fun, and Mei was actually forced to help. So were you.

People just seem to like noodles specifically on Fridays. They do it on purpose.

MK scoffs. "Not that hard. Not physically, anyways."

"I get another guess, right? Is he pressuring you too much? Telling you the fate of the world rests in your hands? Like one mistake can send you over the edge of oblivion with no more people to serve noodles to?"

"That's kinda specific, but you're not wrong?"

You grin. MK's the type to fall under the fear of failure. "Knew it! Don't you worry, 'ol Monkey King will perish under my glorious lecture about treating my effing boyfriend right."

MK offers a sheepish smile, extending the blanket to encompass your frame as well. "Awww! You're sweet, buuuuut he won't listen."

"I'll poison his peaches."

"What peaches??"

"I'll stuff rocks under his pillow and schedule a meeting with his lawyer."

Your partner laughs at that, and the sound brings relief to your chest. The Monkie Kid then - after selecting a movie to watch - takes a mouthful of popcorn and devours it. "I'll totally help you as long as I can go incognito."

"Brooo, coward much? Face your mentor like a man!"

"I AM a man!"

Snorting in amusement, you wrap your arms around MK in a fierce cuddle. "Ok, I wasn't actually serious. Popcorn?"

"Sure." He offers a handful to which you take gingerly. He then buries himself in your shoulder, and you're inclined to rub his back in a soothing gesture. You might be brilliant at lightening the mood with chaotic banter, but MK still seems tired. So you're happy to give him a light squeeze before playing with his hair.

They relax almost instantly after that.

You feel their shoulders experimentally. "Bro, you're tense as heck."

"Sorry . . ."

"No! Don't be," you huff, going back to running your fingers through his hair. "I diagnose you with stress and anxiety, and prescribe you with cuddles. Sound fair?"

MK is fighting a smile. "Totally, babe."

"Aight. Now what movie are we watching? Some cringy sit-com?"

"I . . . actually don't know."

"Sweet."

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls- Season 2, Episode 16, "There's The Rub", aka a Masterpiece of Gilmore-dom, AKA Forrester Can't Bring Me Down, AKA Jess Rory And Paris Eat Together And All Is Right With The World-Part 2

Before we continue I'd like to acknolwedge the sweet and thoughtful people who have been leaving generous compliments about this shitcircus of a thing I'm doing here. Mwah. Who's ready for more TTR? (PS-Don't forget to check out part 1 and all of the previous episodes I've recapped! You can find them in my pinned post. Tryna work on a new master index in the meantime).

Dean Forrester's reaction to a woman talking. Can I just ask a question? Forrester, why are you even with this girl in the first place? Why did this relationship drag out over the course of five long years? You clearly don't like her. Every word she says seems to bore and annoy you. You don't want to join in any activities with her. She's clearly not gonna have sex with you (yet). You don't respect her or support her in any of her endeavors. Every week you do something to frighten her or make her fear you, and frankly, she's not a big fan of yours either. Truly, what is in it for you? Oh right, it's cause you're using her so you can eventually fuck her Mom. Silly me. Carry on, you sexist worm (no offense to decent worms everywhere).

Rory:

R: Do laundry, and watch tv and eat the Indian food that I love but my mom hates. Can ya'll believe this is an actual exchange of words that is happening right now? They're really going back and forth so Rory can gain Dean's approval to do her laundry. Oh hey, my Gilmore Girls Bingo Card is filling up! We have a "Dean, are you mad?" TIMES TWO.

WHY SHOULD HE BE MAD THAT YOU WANT TO SPEND ONE EVENING WITHOUT HIM. RORY... PLEASE. This is so worrisome.

Idk maybe cause you're a fucking tapeworm? Sorry tapeworms. You're head lice. Your leather coat fucking smells.

WHAT IS HAPPENING? Dear God, Rorygil. I love you but please grow a spine. In the span of mere minutes we saw her cave under pressure from Paris to the point she agreed to tutor her for an entire week, which was totally unnecessary. Paris was asking for like, one evening. A minute later RoryGil caves under pressure from Dean, and now she's talking like she's going to cater to his every (probably sick and perverse) need like some kind of servant, just because he scowled when she said she wanted to do her laundry. THERAPY NOW, RORYGIL.This people-pleasing is wildly out of control. If therapy is not a viable option, just fucking kick Forrester in the nuts and tell Paris to chill because you'll have plenty of time to play Dysfunctional Marriage when you're older and married to each other someday.

(TWWGG is alone in her room, repeatedly saying KICK HIM IN THE NUTS out loud) IT'S OKAY NEIGHBORS. I'M JUST YELLING AT DEAN FORRESTER. FICTIONAL CHARACTER FROM EARLY 2000s TV SITCOM. SLIMY WORM. NOTHING TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT. GO ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS. Let me translate this DeanSpeak for you. I'm a pro. "I'm a saint": "I'm a saint for dating you even though you won't let me do things like come over while your mom is out of town and feel you up on the couch." "I'm confused": "I'm confused as to why you would ever prefer blissful solitude over giving me an awkward handjob on your Mom's couch." You know, if you weren't enough of a worm as it is, you probably fucking pressure her sexually too. Me singing to Dean Forrester:

Is a kissing coach a thing? Couldn't someone at the WB Network put aside a couple of bucks to teach Jared Padalecki how to kiss? Barring that, at least a blow up doll or pillow to practice on? The fault CLEARLY does not lie with Alexis Bledel.

Can you imagine you're AB, you fucking get paid to kiss Milo at work and if that wasn't enough, you're really dating him, so you leave your job where you got paid to kiss him all day and go kiss him some more at home... I think about this A LOT. Cut to Emily and Lorelai at the spa, where hell has apparently frozen over because Lorelai Gilmore has actually shut the hell up. Me trying to make small talk on a first date:

HA, someone won't shut up and leave you alone and is constantly invading your personal space! How about them apples, Lorelai!

What is this magical place called a "Quiet Room" and can I shove any gilmore girls character of my choosing in there at any time? L: Mom, you booked us for a couples massage. Do you know what most couples do 5 minutes after this is over? They have sex, together, probably while wearing their robes. Someone on Gilly Girls said S-E-X. I am scandalized! E: You've been pouting, sighing, sulking, mumbling, rolling your eyes the whole time. L: That's just how I detox. LMAO. What a stellar line. This episode is so great. Despite the presence of Forrester the Worm.

Whoa Nelly! What kind of cosmic alignment was in place that day for Lorelai to actually apologize for something?

Err, two things... Firstly: Mr. Peanut Pajamas. I always love Rory's pajamas and I wonder where they all came from. Secondly: Is Rory running a laundry service for all 9,000+ citizens of Stars Hollow out of her home? Five days a week she wears a school uniform. Where did all these clothes come from?

I love it when Paris shows up on Rory's door step, she always looks like an abandoned puppy looking for a home for the night. And she sort of is. P: I tried to stay home and study by myself! But I can't! There is this aching in my heart that I just cannot ignore! It grows louder and louder by the minute! Rory Gilmore, I love you! Will you marry me? Okay, so I made up everything past the first line, but you know she was thinking it.

Paris guilt trips Rory into letting her stay because Rory feels bad that Paris' parents don't love her. Poor RoryGil. Just let her LIVE. R: Fine I'll study with you for one hour then you have to go home!

Narrator: Paris Geller would not in fact, be going home, but her NotGoingHomeNess would make for one enchanted evening.

Literally puppy eyes! This is after Rory said they would start studying after she got changed, and Paris responded "My hour doesn't start until you get back, right?" To be continued.

[generalkenobee]

Hiiii could I possibly request a little Mando x reader where reader was raised by the tusken raiders? She's like their princess in a way. She doesn't wear the face thing BUT she's not allowed to leave her hut ever because they see her as super important. But one day she HAS to leave (idk why lol) so they ask the mandalorian to escort her away. Now she travels with him and they have crushes on each other. I'm thinkin tomboy edgy type reader who's also a bad bitch lol

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST CUTIE PATOOTIE 🩷🫣

Warnings: body guard Mando, FEM! reader, reader is kind of a bitch to Mando, I MIGHT MAKE THIS A SERIES MAYBE!, let me know if I missed anything

"Fine.. I'll get you ice cream"

"ok and why do I have to go?! I don't want to go to a stupid invitational" you huffed trying to walk away but your dad grabbed your arm signifying it was no option

Your translator came in the room holding a long flowy purple dress "mi'lady, your father requested that you wear this to the invitational" she smiled at you holding the dress out. You sighed grabbing it

"something the matter princess?" She had a look of genuine worry on her face as she questioned you

"I just feel like everyone keeps making all my decisions for me! I don't want to go so I shouldn't have to..."

You looked down feeling defeated.

And your translator looked away blushing "what is it?"

"I-I have news but now knowing how you feel.." she took a deep breath "you're not going to like it"

You rolled your eyes again Turing to look at her and smiled "nothing could be much worse, what is it?"

"y-your father.. he well- well your father requested that you ha-" she was interrupted as a mandolorian walked in the room "who the hell are you?! Get out!" Your translator looked over at him "I haven't broken the news yet!" She whisper yelled.

As the mandolorian left she turned back to you "mi'lady I'm so sorry.." and it all fell together "no"

"mi'lady try to understand that this- well your father-"

You sprinted out from your hut only to be tacked to the ground "unhand me!" You started to scream and kick your feet back and forth "let me go! Now!" You heard a dramatic sigh "this is a lot harder for me then it is for you" the mandolorian said as he put you down back in the hut

"how is this harder for you mandolorian?"

"I just had to carry you back to your hut and I've only been on the job for 23 minutes-"

You groaned and threw your head back "this is so unfair"

"brat" you head the mandolorian mumble under his breath

" I'm sorry, but have you been locked in a tiny hut your whole? Oh and also, the only time you get to leave is to go somewhere you don't want to go!" To be honest Din didn't like the sound of someone being treated like that

You were right, it was unfair

---

Your translator was currently doing your hair, painting your nails, getting your shoes on. Basically some finishing touches before you had to hit the road with your mysterious new found mandolorian.

"hey mandolorian, is your ship big?" You called over while she was on her knees in front of you. She looked up at you once she had put on your shoes for you and looked away blushing

"you're all ready mi'lady.."

"thank you so much Amber" you leaned in kissing her cheek, this was considered all natural in your culture

---

You waved good bye to Amber while your mandolorian escorted you off to his ship, which was indeed..big.

He pushed in the code sending the door flying open "here" he said pointing to a small cot. "If you get tired you can sleep, and I have some nutrients bars and blue milk over on the bed side table" you watched as he pointed over to the objects he was talking about but you couldn't focus.

What was under that helmet? Why did he wear it? What was the point? But then again he probably had some of the same questions about your culture.

"so it should take about four or so hours to get to your invitational then I'll-"

"FOUR HOURS?" you whaled out "no no no please don't you have like a light speed thing?"

"broken"

"then just fly faster!"

"can't"

"WHY?!"

"if you could lower your voice, that would be amazing 'princess' "

Your face felt hot when he called you that..

"and why s-should I?" You tried your best to maintain composer but with the tall man looking down at you and now calling you "princess"?! Impossible.

"kids sleeping" your heart fell..he had a kid, did that mean he had a wife? Husband? Significant other? Where they married?!

"well he's sort of.. adopted"

Oh thank the maker... "Can I meet him? Please"

That was the first time you had shown respect for the mandolorian, asking him please and everything wasn't like you at all.

"he's sleeping.."

---

You wandered through the big ship, looking at the big boxes of cargo and wires everywhere. This place could use a serious makeover

"hey Mando.." you said leaning over the his seat feasting your chin on his shoulder

"what?"

"I'm boreddd" you sounded so over dramatic (as usual)

"can we stop and like get ice cream?" You looked into his visor with pleading eyes. "Why would I get you ice cream?"

"because there's nothing to do on this old rust bucket! And also- I'm hungry" your stomach was starting to ache due to the little amount of food you had the last few days.

"and your little bar things aren't helping much!"

"fine..I'll get you ice cream"

[luvlyhyunjin]

The whole situation is so complicated 😭😭😭 like all characters are soooo so complex, especially y/n :((

Tbh yes, Yeji has low key bene a bit mean to y/n and stuff even before she found out the truth, but that’s justifiable bc she was defending her friend, aka Hyunjin! And ofc if I put myself in her shoes, if my friends’ ex left my bff all heart broken, ofc I would have some sort of sour feelings :((. But ofc it’s always important to note that when a relationship ends, it’s not ab finding who to blame! I relationship ends bc it’s simply not meant and that’s ok, that’s just life ://. So imo I do think Yeji is valid for not being all for y/n and Hyunjin BUT idt she needed to be a bitch ab it. However !!! The way she reacted to the news ab the bet and SEUNGMIN, I get that bc in her perspective she was trying to look after Hyunjin.

For Hyunjin’s POV, idk I think it rlly depends on the person. Bc yes y/n did a lot of questionable things, and tbh he rlly does have the option to not listen to her bc tbh if I were in his shoes I wouldn’t either AKSJSKSJA bc like wth !!! I’m online w h and turns out ur doing sm shiz behind my back like ?!?! However, when his own friends shit talked y/n, I thought that was below the belt. It’s natural they don’t like her for what she had done, but Hyunjin still loves her, and love doesn’t just go away. Bc idk maybe it’s a me thing, but when my friends jus breakup w an ex, I make it a point to never talk shit, even if I rlly want to in the first few weeks or so bc it’ll also hurt my friend bc they still love them! That’s why I did find it a bit weird that Hyunjin didn’t rlly tell them to stop but we r all different and deal w our feelings differently. I think it was normal he blocked her bc he needs to heal and get some space fr. Like I said it’s rlly up to him if he wants to listen to y/n. Bc I’m 100% sure she has her reasons but ofc it’ll be hard to listen to her bc he did give her chances to admit the truth but she was scared and never took the chance, so that’s on her.

Tbh I think all of them are just acting immaturely which is rlly normal and human of them! Like I don’t rlly support how some of them r dealing w it, especially w Hyunjin’s friends talking shot ab y/n, the girl he still has feelings for IN FRONT OF HIS FACE :((. Idk like I said, for me I think it’s below the belt bc one, he did love her once :((. Valid for them to not like her but they should give Hyunjin some space from the situation bc it just seems like they’re making it ab themselves. They could’ve just asked how he was and continued from there :((. Idk :((

And for y/n I cannot stress this enough, she should’ve said smthg :(( everyone’s been telling her to come clean and Hyunjin even gave her the chance but she never did, so it rlly gave d impression dat she was playing w Hyunjin and his friends. I think she should’ve said smthg sooner and should’ve jus been honest from the get go. Bc I’m sure Hyunjin would’ve been hurt by what happened and what she did, but at least it would give Hyunjin reassurance that she is honest w him. And it’s understandable that y/n is sort of acting dis way bc of her own personal issues, but dat doesn’t justify her reasons, and doesn’t justify hurting someone else whom is harmless. So I think y/n is in a place of reflection and hopefully she finds some peace :)).

Mad for Chan, I mean ofc he will tell Yeji AKSNWM she is his friend and ofc all the shiz he found out was rlly like messed up so ofc he will tell her, it’s a normal response. I mean he could’ve clarified it w wooyoung, Yuma, and y/n, but idt they’re close to begin w so AKSNAKANA.

Long story short, theyre all just rlly emotional and I think they’re all sort of acting impulsively which is normal :)).

Idk how this whole situation is gonna unfold but I’m rlly hoping for the best for all of them!!

yess this is why i kept saying this is so complicated bc its one of these situations where we could go back and forth on what everyone could have said and did when everything the characters do doesn't always have to be morally correct when they have different personalities and feelings/past judgements are involved thats just very unrealistic i also mentioned to keep note of the pain being so fresh and the shock is settling in bc yk sadness and pain are such complex emotions they could turn into rage or have you thinking differently/irrationally. if this was after a while maybe i could for sure see felix or hyunjin being like "okay guys this is not cool stop it" bc time could have passed and their opinion on yn wouldnt just bc focused on this one bad thing she did

I do agree w u that this felt selfish to hyunjin i think his feelings are not being validated in this situation, his friends are only validating yejis side which is that yn is100% a villain in her story so the first thing she feels for yn is anger and just that. where for hyunjin the way he feels about yn is soso complex bc this is a person who he loved and still loves, shares a past with and thought of her as his soulmate thats why it made so much sense for me that he's isolating himself he doesnt feel like he has a safe space to talk about yn and express his grief and the complexity of still missing her,loving her its similar to the start where he couldnt talk abour his feelings for yn w yeji and only talked about them to lix

Also the whole bangchan situation i do think if someone else heard them things would be different i do believe if it was changbin in that situation he would have 100% talk to yuna and woo first but with chan he had showed multiple times that he doesnt really care about yn and her friends like that and it had been shown also that he's not really a logically thinking person like he had said questionable things throughout the series so

omg thank you for writing ur thoughts to me in detail this is so fun to read and i lovee getting to discuss everything so i hope ur feeling the same as i said its so interesting to see so many different opinions and views this just goes to show how complex we are as humans!! i love it🥹🩷🩷

[tmnt-obsessed-ace]

Is SSDF Leo gonna get into a romantic relationship during the story?

Would it be with an established character or an oc?

And what's his sexuality anyways?

This au has me in a chokehold

First of all Im glad you like this au so much

Now the questions

Im heavily considering it and have some ideas...

Skipping question two real quick, Leo is bisexual he just doesnt know it yet, after all he didn't have time to explore and figure things about for majority of his adult life, he was too busy taking care of four children (and far too anxious and depressed to even think about meeting people anyways.)

And back to the second question (and also technically the first) on who I would pair this very tired turtle with (and why I am very hesitant to do this)

Honestly the more likely route would be Leo and Hueso. I think it would be pretty cute, they're both very tired single parents and they've already been close for years. (And the kids would absolutely make jokes about Hueso upgrading from uncle to step dad)

The reason why I am so hesitant to actually go through with this is because I do not want to attract the freaks of the fandom. (You know the ones that ship Hueso with RISE LEO) and I do want people thinking I support that either. Listen to me, SSDF Leo and Hueso are both fully grown ADULTS (Leo being 30 and Hueso being 36, yes an age gap but again THEY ARE BOTH GROWN ADULTS)

But I know for a fact that there would be at least ONE idiot with the reading comprehension of a goldfish that would scream about me being "proship" or whatever and either be a disgusting little freak or accuse ME of being a disgusting little freak. (which is exactly why if I do decide to go this route, it would be a very subtle relationship and I especially wont put that in the relationships tag)

As cute as that would be I am still on the fence about going with that route.

Now the much safer option would be Usagi, go the classic Leosagi route but they're both single parents. (Burb actually suggested awhile ago that Leo's kids and Jennika could try to parent trap their dads together. That would be absolutely hilarious) It would take a longer time to develop considering that Usagi REALLY doesn't like Leo for a long time. (Leo's a ninja, he seemingly abandoned Venus and Jennika to die even though thats not at all true, yada yada yada) so it would be a much more rocky relationship building than the first option. But it would be the option that wouldn't risk me getting as much flack (or possible freaks) but its also the option I have thought about considerably LESS

Idk I'm still going back and forth on which option would be better, or even to include that at all. (Imagine if all three of them got into a poly relationship. The kids would get FOUR dads! That would be very funny)

Sorry if this wasnt the answer you wanted but I hope you enjoy either wau

[batboyblog]

Hi! I don't know if you remember me, but I'm the anon from a couple weeks ago who just found out their grandma was jewish. I didn't know at first if I should get you a follow up, but your attention and kindness are still so dear to me, I decided it wouldn't hurt, at least (plus you called me friend, which is a win in my book)

So, I didn't talk to my grandma at first - my mother and aunts did. It was a very charged conversation, everyone was sore after a few days, but afterwards Grandma called everyone in the family to talk. She told us the broad strokes of the story, which was also very intense. She said she won't expect any of us to take this stuff to heart and start being Jewish, as she put it, but that she was happy with what we could share. She's kind like that. I know she's scared, I don't think she could not be, but she's been patient. I've taken opportunities to talk to her in small increments about it. I am really very open about learning about it, if not from a religious standpoint at the very least from a cultural one. She shared her secret for babka with me, as I asked her to. I learned it was her father's mother who taught her sister when he was young. It feels surreal to know this, a lifetime and an ocean away. But I'm happy she got to share this. I'm not the greatest baker, but I'm excited to try and bake it.

It's about to be Purim, right? A couple days away? My aunt is thinking of suggesting grandma that we celebrate it. I don't think we'd know what to do much, since grandma hasn't celebrated it in like, 80 years, but maybe she'd like that. Or maybe it's too soon. We'll see!

Anyways, I just thought I'd let you know. It may not have been much to you, but your words have really mattered to me. Thank you!

(also to whoever linked the song 'we are a miracle' in the notes of one of my asks, thanks for the song. I cried listening to it! I'm still very hesitant to say I'm Jewish, since I'm so removed, but to have even 1/1000th of connection to this history is honestly an honor.)

first off, of course I remember! its one of the more interesting things I've heard through this blog!

I'm glad you reached out I've been wondering ever since our last back and forth.

I'm also very glad you've been able to talk to your grandma and get a little family history and baking

yes Purim is coming up, it starts on the 6th, Jewish days start at sun down so a Jewish day would be night fall the 6th to nightfall the 7th, with the 7th being Purim (or the 14th of Adar in the Jewish calendar) you should totally ask her

IDK what Jewish community life is like where you live, if you live somewhere with LOTS of Jewish life or not. But I was thinking about after our last talk you should ask your grandma if she'd like to speak to a Rabbi, clearly these things do still mean something to her. I don't really know again how much Jewish life there is around you as far as options, and I also don't really know what your grandma would be comfortable with. Any ways she might find it comforting and easier to have one on one chats with a Rabbi rather than trying to dive into finding holiday services to go to.

one thing you might do for Purim, is the traditional cookie of the holiday, hamantash I mean who doesn't like a plate of cookies?

any ways if you live somewhere without a lot of Jewish resources, feel free to message me and we can brain storm ways to connect your grandma with resources. And feel free to message me any ways

also, this is a hard conversation, but you know, this is the end of her life, and while at the time I found it very hard to have the conversation with both my grandparents during their lives, after they passed a few years ago I found knowing what they wanted done as far as the funeral and stuff very comforting I felt very much like I was helping them. Sorry I know it's a very hard thing to talk about but... before it's too late your family should ask, does she want a rabbi? a Jewish funeral? a Star on her grave stone? her Hebrew name?

I wish you, and your family the best of luck (and happiness) with all this and to repeat my ask box and messages are always open for all questions, thoughts, updates etc

[vagueiish]

….so. like. how do you break someone of the notion that he’s only worth something if he’s useful to people when he’s the player character in an rpg? (this is about bg3 and my current tav)

it’s fun bc it gives an in-character reason to be a completionist, but from a writing perspective? while trying to keep things in line with how my actual gameplay goes? this belief is super reinforced over and over again. esp since there’s no real built in way to be useless. failure is technically an option, but my guy has been rather lucky on the major dice rolls. i suppose i could just throw up my hands and let his actual development come post-game. because i do have some ideas for that. but it’d be nice to have some development happen during the events of the game

…and this is getting a bit longer than i intended so…

maybe i could purposely fail a dice roll during a super important quest or something and see how he copes with the aftermath, but like. idk. he already accidentally destroyed the whole crèche, but that was less him being useless and still loved and more a ‘stop being a dipshit, think before you act’ moment. and it happened organically, which is nice. i don’t want to necessarily force anything, but at the same time, i’m almost gonna have to if i want some change to occur in the game timeline, right? put on my god pants and divinely intervene and all for the sake of character growth

i have this idea that maybe something happens late game where he’s out of commission for a while and needs to be taken care of by the squad. which he absolutely hates because he fully expects them to resent him for it and hate him and so forth, but no. he’s spent the whole journey taking care of them, now it’s their turns to have his back. but then idk how exactly to put him out of commission for a while in a way that doesn’t kill him or something because, d&d universe, magic healing, it’s not like they’d let him stay injured like that. especially since he’s at ‘exceptional’ with all the homies by the end. and also it can’t be something super long because, y’know, mother brain is trying to break free and all that…

or. oh. maybe they see him struggling. the weight of everything is finally to the point that he can no longer smile and wave off concern and redirect any such conversation convincingly. everyone collectively decides he needs a break, so they force him to sit this one out, lmao. and he’s fucking miserable, spending a good portion of the time thinking they’ve deemed him useless and it’s only a matter of time before they get rid of him completely. and it’s double bad, actually, because once he stops moving, The Anxiety asserts itself and The Thoughts start nagging at him and he starts to spiral even further. and instead of opening up, he sets off on his own to take care of a quest or whatever and ends up getting Fucked Up and he needs to be taken care of anyway, but this time with a nice side-helping of lovingly getting chewed out by his companions….

idk. maybe i’m looking in the wrong direction? or maybe i’m thinking too much about it. it’s not necessary to have a character arc to play the game. but, by gum, i fuckin wanna figure this shit out. as a writing brain exercise

[deanwinchesterpregnant]

Gonna put a WW ask in your ask box but not bc I want you to stop from talking about Dean giving birth but bc you should keep doing that 👀 What is your favorite season for Dean to have been pregnant/given birth and what would his life look like with Sam after?

Oh, well, twist my arm 😅 but! I’ve been asked this a couple times, and it makes me so happy that y’all want to know my thoughts on this!

Here’s an ask that links all my answers about it but the TL;DR is season 3.

That said, to me Dean being pregnant in s3 wouldn’t culminate in carrying to term (ok if it did though, Sam’s s4 would look VERY different. Idk if he’d be so trusting of Ruby with a child on the line. But I digress).

I love the idea of Dean having gotten pregnant pre-series (many options for who the father could be) and showing up during the events of Pilot with a toddler on his hip. 1. I think Sam would be more inclined to try and convince Dean to stay with him & Jess and leave the hunting life, and then when Jess dies he’d take to it with more voraciousness. He’s gotta protect the baby! Which he fully adopts lol. That said, god. THE ARGUMENTS. Over how to raise the kid. I think at that point they’ve accepted they can’t get out of hunting, but how much to let the kid in on? I think early seasons Dean would be more for it than Sam.

But if he gets pregnant later… (soulless!Sam is a fave era) then it would be Dean who’s more insistent they’re out of the life. Look at Adventures in Babysitting. I think Sam, at that point, might be more inclined to have the kid be aware and able to protect themselves (the John-ism leaps forth, ykwim). As much as I WANT them to live a little domestic life I can’t imagine that’s what happens.

Angst fodder, though: they go off grid and TRY to live as normal-little-family as they can. And it works for a while. But fate always catches up to them.

Whew! That answer was all over the place. Thanks for the ask, I love thinking about this stuff :)

[senzariscrva]

hi i'm alive, i have been car stressing and so... not here. i was SO READY to be done car stressing but the universe said NOT TODAY.

basically, my car has been acting up for yeeeaaaars. but now there's a new thing breaking or malfunctioning every other week, i'm at 298k miles, it's TIME. that car is so stressful to drive because i'm always on edge about something else going wrong.

so i was looking at this one specific car. but it was a liiiiiittle out of what i was sure i'd be able to afford. and also it was just eternally not in stock because as the cheap car of the company, everyone was just buying that shit. so basically the only option was wait and hope one pops up and jump on that shit, or order it.

so last september my dad was all set to order it, and he decided that since i wasn't positive i'd be able to afford it, he would order the minimum of what he would want in that car, and then if i couldn't afford it, he'd take it instead.

so. what he ordered was $12k more than what i wanted and i was like welllllll definitely can't afford that now.

so. turned to used cars instead. most of what i've been finding is a similar price to the car i originally wanted to get. which.... nah. so i've been back and forth with my dad for the last week about what he's willing to give me for a down payment, because i make $14/hour yo, i don't have shit. at first he was offering me 12k and found me a car at the dealer he goes to. the car was $31k which is waaayyyyy out of the range of what i can afford, even with a 12k down payment. so i looked at the dealership where my brother is a mechanic and found a used car for like $23,200, talked to my dad, and he said he took back the 12k offer and said he'd give me 5k. which brings $23,200 out of my range.

so. i stressed and agonised and searched and talked to my dad again like "look, i'm not trying to buy a car that's going to have me constantly in danger of not making enough money to make my monthly payments, and i'm not looking to buy a car that's in barely better condition than my current one and is going to die in two years, and those are basically my options so idk"

so. he basically said "wellll would it help if i do $7k for a down payment instead?" so like. yes, obviously every little bit helps.

aaaaaaaaaaaand then i found it. the perfect car. it's a hybrid, about 7 years old, 81k miles on it, so it's been driven a decent amount and the previous owner wasn't letting it sit around a ton most likely. $14,200. with the 7k down payment, that was going to make my monthly payments about $180/month for five years. aaaaaaand. i did a lot of math and figured out that driving that car would cost me about $90/month in gas, whereas my current one is costing me $150/month. so. there we go. there's the majority of my monthly payment right there just in the difference in what i'm spending on gas.

sooooo today i did the thing and called the dealership and scheduled an appointment to test drive it (i am terrified of phone calls okay, major panic mode right there lmao), got my brother to go with me so he could do his mechanic thing and take a look at it aaaaaaaaaaaaand we got there and they were like "........oh, yeah, someone was supposed to call you, we were getting it ready to test drive and it put up a hybrid engine warning light, so we had to take it back to the shop to see what's going on, and if it's super expensive to fix, we have to just scrap it, but if you want i can keep you updated"

so. that's fun lmao. just my luck. i'm gonna hope it's something they'll fix because DAMN that is literally exactly what i need in a car right now.

i guess i continue the car search just in case, but idk. i'll hold off on actually buying on for another two weeks or so in case they're able to fix that one... otherwise... idk, i gotta find SOMETHING. but yeah, hybrid is clearly the way to go, if most of my monthly payment can be covered by $160 that i don't have to spend on gas? that would be AMAZING and then i'm not super fucked over.

[ocean-anchored]

continued... December 13, 2023

Yesterday was the office trivia which we needed more people so I had also invited him expecting him to not say yes so quickly but he did! I offered to pick him up cause I knew he lived DT and he also said yes again & gave me his number. He was really friendly, he did engage & ask questions which I liked. Trivia was fun even though both of us barley contributed. Shane, Kamber, Amber, Naythan, Nick, Ali, Troy & i. It was a fun night, I got to know Troy better and we had a good brief chat on the way home about church and trying to connect with people. I can't read him too well but I mean, who says yes to a NYE night & a trivia night so quickly if they don't want to connect? Idk. I'm certainly not getting my hopes up & keeping it causal. I've been thinking about thanking him again for picking up my tab (even tho it was a server error) but I remember Daniel telling me about some reasons why Troy & his ex broke up so I thought about saying thank you & gently putting it out there that Id buy him a beer whenever he's free, I don't want to come across too much at first here though so Ill give it a bit of time. Who knows, I guess we'll find out over time and we'll see what NYE brings. Yesterday, was 2 weeks since I last spoke to Zack, I've been doing good not thinking about him much & not caring. I almost got past thinking that he'd reach out again but he did. Texted me asking if he could explain what happened & that he doesn't deserve it but had to try. I haven't responded. I don't plan to. He really fucked me up and really does not deserve to talk to me again. I'm happier without him. I need to move on and I can't get sucked back in, that's so damn toxic and honestly I don't care. I'm SURE he was high again when we were talking at some point over that weekend and that Monday night so I don't need an explanation, I know what he's going to say, it's always the same shit and I'm over it. Oh and Connor, yea also tried of that shit. I'm so tired of being an option and inconsistency. We talked a bit after the last time I saw him and then his last text back was again just giving me nothing to work off, he's such a shitty texter so my response was somewhat cut off I know he didn't have anything to comment back other than if he asked how im doing which he didnt so I left it. It was a couple days, till my IG got hacked & he texted me, again which we exchanged very few words and gave me nothing so I thought Id asked how his week was cause I knew he was off those days. went back & forth like one or two more times but again still just fuck all so I didn't bother responding, then he did text me the next night when I went to Shanes christmas party & again few exchanges back, I knew he was close to his time off so we talked about him having the next two weeks off and then he said "well have to hang again soon" which I commented back "ya let me know when if you'd like to" along with another little text acknowledging his plans for his time off & of course no response like fuck me. then last night texts about the knights game with literally like 3 words and an emoji so I gave him nothing back, it's pathetic and I'm not going to engage in being someone to entertain someone while they're bored. Gosh men are so fucking annoying and lazy and non committal. I swear I might really just be single for a long ass time. Anyways, that's the last week or so. I'm really thankful for Amber & Naythan, it will be really nice to spend the holidays with them and I hope to continue focusing on myself and putting myself first.

[topconfessions]

so can we all agree top got squid game because of connections and connections only

Dude, I deadass said this on a private Instagram that spills tea about him when I found out. He really is moving up through connects and networking. He got squid game cause of Jae and the moon project clout.

I'm happy he got the gig but also peeved cause he legit gave up on acting and hasn't seriously even did his due dieglience with acting for years now, so him getting squid game is a huge shocker to me cause just keeping it real here, why couldn't he have worked hard and consistently with subtle networking via staying active in the acting world. We were sort of pushed to believe through the fan base that top was so inconsolable emotionally from the weed incident w/ seo hee that he wasn't fit nor ready to ever return back to acting. He's done everything else but show passion towards acting or at least take small roles to get his feet wet again to earnestly work his way back up. This is a very Hollywood type of move that I usually expect here in America. Not saying politics don't exist in overseas, but this is really bold. Abruptly bold.

It's just annoying that other for that identifying himself for projects like the wine products and dear moon as an actor, he put no effort forth on it. These are opportunities that could have been given to an unknown who really needs it. That model who won everyone over in the first season, she became an international star and success overnight because of her striking looks and performance. The show had big names in korean in it but still some new blood and lesser names like the hot cop who is now a big star. Squid Game is very successful cause they picked the right people who star power didn't overshadow and water down the show. I think Lee Byunghyun was the villain that the cop had to deal with if I remember correctly?

Either way, this was handed to top and it feels very adverse and strange if not off putting to me that he is just jumping into a major project like this which is a 2nd globally renowned thing that many Korean actors seasoned, popular and new won't ever get the chance at. Something is off here.

Later on today or this weekend maybe Sunday, I know before 4th of July, I'm changing the name of this blog and working on it Finally! Cause I don't want my opinions conflicting the subject matter of the blog anymore. This will be a general celebrity and Asian confessions blog.

Maybe If you guys have discord, we can make a small group chat / server and talk further about this. I wish Tumblr had group option or something. I'll have to figure out something where we can do that or stay here but make selective hidden posts for discussion.

Anyways, I have a conspiracy theory about this but I'm not going to say it openly cause again, I'm not gonna listen to nor entertain people saying I'm an Anti when I point out the obvious. But I think aside from connections he got it a different way.

Take a minute to think about it and you'll know what I mean. You'll know exactly what I mean.

He better act his ass off and cool that bizarre behavior down cause this is it. He is chosen and his popularity depending on which role they give him and how long his character lasts, will make him BLOW UP in popularity. He may shoot up to 17-22 million followers (I don't follow him anymore so idk how many followers he has now).

I won't go back and bandwagon if he blows up cause I remember who he used to be in big bang then who he was when bigbang was aging out then who he was during his brief acting stint then who he was when he acted out after the weed seo hee scandal.

So I'm officially over it guys.

I'll think of a name tonight.

I know we can't control nor dictate how people bounce back as a comeback and all the blessings to him but to me, something about it isn't sitting right with me. I'm over it. I'm exhausted and this was too much of a wild Rollercoaster for me just to see him finally get back out there becoming who I'd like to see him be in such a random and disingenuous way.

He's the Pete Davison of Korea now minus not being ugly. I was going to watch squid game regardless but now I'll have to pretend like I know about thing about him so I can get through it unless his acting blows me away.

[darling-i-read-it]

Comfy

Karl Heisenberg x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: injury, cussing

Author’s Note: I hope you like this babes! Karl my beloved omg, slight re8 spoilers

Requested: by anon, Ooooo requests? Maybe? Idk it says open so I shall ✨request✨. M’kay, so I’m thinking that Karl has a gf that likes soft things (blankets, sweaters, pillows, pjs, that kind of stuff) and small enclosed spaces, so Karl makes a small-ish room for her to put all of her stuff in and cuddle up to for when she’s cold/wants to relax. Like she has a switch and a tv and wifi- it’s like a soft man cave but for her and Karl. Anyway, Ethan is looking for baby and comes across her room and tries to hide in it, not knowing she’s IN there and asleep. He gets in there, notices the blankets and pillows and accidentally steps on her ankle, which HURT and makes her scream. Karl hears said scream and comes barrelling over in protective bf mode to beat Ethan up. It’s up to you whether gf goes “oi don’t be mean he’s looking for his baby” or not

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“I just think that it couldn’t be that hard for you to make a small place, hidden away.” Your voice didn’t carry far in the small room but it didn’t have to. You had a blanket over you as you sat up at the edge of the bed. Karl was walking back and forth around the room as he grabbed things to start his day. “You’re very good with your hands,” you said pleasantly. He pointed at you.

“You’re right about that.”

“Come on Karl. Just a small place. You can use it too if you want to run away for a minute.” He stopped in front of you, the first time he had stopped in a couple of minutes. You looked up at him and he looked down at you, caressing your cheek. He took a deep breath.

“I will see what I can do.” You grabbed his hand and slid it to your lips, kissing his palm.

“You’re the best.”

“I know.” He paused. “Say it again.”

“You’re the best Karl.” He leaned down and gave you a kiss before backing away to the door.

“You better believe it.”

===

You didn’t bring up your small place for a couple of days, just in case he really didn’t want to do it. You just figured that you could have a small room in the factory that no one but the two of you knew existed so you could finally have some privacy. You could fill it with soft things, blankets, pillows, all of that. And entertainment as well of course.

But he didn’t bring it up and you didn’t want to push it. He had a lot to do during his days and you didn’t want to add more stress.

You were sitting behind him, arms around his waist as he massaged your hands gingerly. You had your cheek pressed flat against his back as you both breathed, telling each other about your days.

“I made it.”

“Huh?”

“I made the room.” You backed up, pulling away from him. He had to turn because he wanted to know what your expression was. He was very pleased to find an overjoyed look.

“You aren’t messing with me are you?”

“No. Maybe. No, I’m not. I finished it earlier today, do you want to see it?” He had a goofy look on his face, like you wouldn’t want to see it.

“I would love to see it!”

He grabbed your arm and dragged you out of bed. You were allowed to walk around the factory but it still left you dizzy after walking around too long. Karl had given you a map and you had been around enough to know where you were going but there was still so much going on.

Fortunately Karl didn’t walk far as he led you down a hallway with a dead end.

“Not too far from the room so you won’t get lost,” he said condescendingly. You shoved him but he just smiled his little sarcastic smile at you. He kicked at the wall and a door opened just a little bit. You watched as he moved the very small door open to reveal a small cubby hole of a room. It was tall enough to fit the both of you which was preferred so you could both get in and out. There were blankets inside, along with things to entertain yourself.

You clapped your hands and fell onto the comfy ground, landing on a stuffed animal, pillow and blanket. You grabbed his hand.

“Come here, lay with me.”

“Maybe later kitten, I gotta get back to work,” he told you, leaning against the door frame.

“Well at least shut the door. We don’t want our little secret getting out or else Mother Miranda will find us here as well.” He rolled his eyes and stepped inside, careful not to smush anything with his work boots. You grinned as the door shut behind him. “Five minutes,” you whispered.

He let out an annoyed sigh despite not being annoyed in the slightest.

“Five minutes.”

You pulled him down to lay with you and started to explore the small place that he had built for you.

=====

All Ethan Winters knew at this point was running away from danger. He was always exhausted when the adrenaline wore out and he was sick and tired of having to find hiding spots.

That being said, he was currently looking for a hiding spot to guard him away from the horrors of this factory.

Breath heaving, he stopped running as he came to a hallway with a dead end. He turned around, hearing the horrific sounds of something or someone gaining on him. He put his back against the wall and then fell through it, surprised to land on a pleasant cloud of pillows and blankets. Realizing that this was a room he quickly shut the door with his foot so that no one would be able to find him in here.

He held his gun in his hand and put his back against the wall, looking around feverishly. The rooms were tall but the width was very very small, just enough space for maybe two people if they were really close to each other. Blankets covered the ground, making lumps and lumps of comfort.

Ethans eyes narrowed in confusion. Had he made it outside of the factory? This definitely didn’t look like Heisenbergs doing.

You opened your eyes slowly at someone landing on your feet. Naturally you figured it was Karl so you didn’t even raise your head much as you waited for him to search the blankets to find you. As you woke up from your sleep you heard the unfamiliar breathing of someone you did not recognize.

Your eyes snapped open and your heart started to beat quickly. You stayed still but the person stood up, standing very harshly on your ankle which must have twisted it or something but it hurt like a motherfucker. You yelped and sat up, eyes narrowing in on Ethan Winters, who you recognized from some pictures. He held the gun up to you but didn’t shoot, thank God.

“Hey hey hey!” you yelled, hands up. “I’m unarmed.” He looked terribly confused and didn’t lower his gun at all. You yanked your leg back to you and moved the blankets aside to see that your ankle was twisted in some kind of way. You couldn’t even tell what he had done but his boots were heavy and so was his step.

“Who are you?” he asked, breath not slowing down to an even pace.

“Y/N. You’re Ethan yeah? You stepped on my ankle!” He lowered his gun to your ankle to look and agreed, it did not look good.

“Listen I’m sorry I’m just trying to get out of-”

The door swung open causing you both to jump in surprise.

Karl stood there, big hammer in his hand as he looked between you and Ethan. He quickly surveyed the situation and noticed you holding your ankle. One look and he could tell, Ethan had done something to it.

Ethan raised his gun to Karl, annoyed he hadn’t been able to catch a break.

Karl felt his anger bubble in his chest at the sight of you hurt. He moved forward, grabbing Ethan by the shirt and lifting him in the air.

“You think you can just come into my factory and hurt Y/N of all people?” he sneered, voice deadly. Ethan had always heard a kind of sarcastic tinge to his voice but right now he was deadly serious. It sent a chill down his spine.

You stood up, using the wall to anchor you and gingerly holding your foot up above the ground to not put pressure onto it. You put a hand on Karls arm.

“He didn’t mean to. I’m sure you have plenty of other things to crucify him for but take it out of my room.” Karl didn’t even look over at you. You and Ethan met eyes and he weighed his options on trying to get sympathy out of you. He decided he probably could’t, not with Heisenberg right there.

“I’ll be right back,” Karl muttered. He took Ethan by the shirt and threw him out the door, following close behind. You looked down at the boot prints on your blankets and sighed.

====

Karl wasn’t gone more than 20 minutes and he came rushing back to you. He hated feeling so vulnerable, knowing people had the ability to hurt him so easily through you. He opened the door to your little room and started to panic when he saw you weren’t there.

He turned around, walking swiftly, trying not to act like he was panicked, back to yours and his room. You sat on the bed, some of the blankets from the tiny room on the ground. You had a first aid kit on the bed beside you as you attempted to bandage yourself up. It looked like you were failing.

“Where the hell did you go?” he asked and he meant for it to sound angry but it came out sounding more worried. You gestured to the blanket pile.

“Needed to clean the blankets. And also wrap this ankle up. Where’s Ethan?”

“Taken care of.” He kneeled in front of you and grabbed the wrap from you. He fumbled with the first aid kit. “How do you feel? Broken? Should I cut it off?” You scoffed.

“Maybe you should. It hurts like a motherfucker.”

“Well let’s get it wrapped and see how it does.” You nodded and let his fingers work their magic. When he was done you grabbed his hands.

“Thank you Karl.”

“I’m sorry he found you. I thought I hid it well enough.”

“It was an accident, don’t worry about it.” He nodded and you kissed his forehead with a smile. “Now go wash those blankets. Those are your boot prints, mister.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and laid down on the bed beside you.

“No, but thank you for asking.”

“Pff if you weren’t comfy I would kick you out right this very second.”

[wri0thesley]

examination - overhaul x reader (2.5k)

warnings:  dark content. yandere/overly controlling overhaul. non-consensual drugging, medical kink, glove kink, examination, surgical setting kind of, reader is basically a prisoner, choking, mindbroken reader, needles, non-con implied. afab reader, fem pronouns. not sfw, minors dni!

me: might write that overhaul choking drabble today idk. also me: writes this 2.5k shameful bullshit instead

this is the first mha fic i’ve ever written pls be nice to me, i love this horrible horrible man

The leather of the operating table sticks to your bare thighs uncomfortably as you tug the gown down, despite knowing that the small gesture is useless. You will end the ‘examination’ on your back, gown pushed around your hips, feet in stirrups--

The door opening startles you, big doe eyes flying to the door to see him. Half of his face is still covered by the bird-mask that you always see in your nightmares, but the overall expression of his eyes is satisfied. You are exactly where he told you to be, exactly when he told you to be, exactly how he told you to be. It’s not a surprise – he’s aware of how much fear he commandeers – but it’s still pleasing to remember just how thoroughly broken you are.

He doesn’t greet you as he comes to stand by the operating table, his eyes instead roaming over all of the bare skin not covered by the medical gown. You’ve been careful. You know that you’re not bruised, or cut, or scratched – you’d looked at yourself in the mirror before you’d made your way here.

Bare-faced, hair brushed back, skin still looking a little uncomfortable and raw from the thorough scrubbing you’d given yourself. It’s better to pre-empt these things, you’ve learnt.

He lets out a sigh. Gloved fingers come to pinch at his mask and remove it – you lean back automatically, not wanting to breathe on him or anything that might set him off, and you win a light tilt of his lips that’s covered with a clinical black surgical mask a moment after you’ve seen it.

The gloves he’s wearing are tugged off with a furrow of displeasure, dropped onto the tray beside him as he snaps the new dark latex ones over his hands and wrists instead. Seeing his bare hands always makes a flash of fear go through you. He does not threaten, in so many words – but sometimes, if you displease him, he tugs at the wrist and you feel coldness drench your back.

“Open your mouth,” he says, detached. He always talks like that to you; still, you occasionally hear talk of what he’s like with those who have displeased him, and you think perhaps his cool detachment as he probes and pokes and prods at you is preferable to the other options. Two of his fingers push on your lower lip, forcing your jaw wider until you ache. “Stick out your tongue.”

You think actual doctors use some kind of tool for this; you don’t think they press two long fingers onto their patient’s tongues so that your eyes squeeze shut for a moment, the taste of rubbery latex flooding your senses. You just manage to stop yourself gagging; there’s no telling what he’ll do if you do that with his fingers still in your mouth.

“Hmm.” He says, golden eyes trailing over your tongue. You are not aware of the throb of heat that goes through him at the sight of you, docile and obedient, your mouth wide open for him. He is an expert in making sure his feelings do not project onto his face. “I’ll up your vitamin dose.” He pulls his fingers out, eyes narrowing in displeasure as he changes out the glove on the hand that was on your tongue.

You sometimes wonder how many pairs he goes through, and let yourself have a brief smile at the thought of how much of the Shie Hassaikai’s budget must be devoted to things like surgical masks and latex gloves and anti-bacterial hand gels. Certainly, your little room in the compound must have cost a pretty penny in all of the vitamins and supplements and other various medications that Overhaul tells you to take.

Another vitamin. Your face is falling before you can stop it, and school your features into a blank mask. He does not miss the change; you are usually so good for him.

(You don’t need to be taking half of the things that Overhaul makes sure are emptied into your too-large pillbox. But you’re easier, sweeter and more pliant when you’re so drugged up you can barely open your eyes.)

“Is there something wrong?”

There’s a knife edge to his voice. Your shoulders shrink in, fear evident in every inch of your expression. Thumb and forefinger come to grip your chin, jerking it harshly so you’re looking directly upwards into narrowed, golden eyes.

“I asked you a question. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

A knot of fear in your throat almost stops you from speaking; but that fear, you know, will be tenfold if you make him madder than you already seem to have. Overhaul doesn’t shout; but his cool, clinical tone and the dangerous glint of his iris is just as frightening as if he did.

“I already take so many,” you whisper, your voice very quiet, cracking. You don’t speak much anymore. His face twitches.

“Perhaps a throat spray, too,” he says, evenly. The fingers on your face trail down, and you bite back a whimper as suddenly both of his hands are on your neck, thumbs pressing directly into your windpipe. He doesn’t press, yet, but the danger lingers there as he keeps his gaze on you. “You sound scratchy.”

(He thinks of a throat numbing spray; of your sleepy, dazed eyes as he pushes himself further inside. He might make you bleed, or tear something, he supposes – but his quirk was made for quickly fixing such flaws, even if he was the one to have made them.)

He presses one thumb down, relishing in the soft wheeze that issues forth from your mouth; the terrified, deer-in-headlights shine of your eyes under fluorescent lighting.

“S-sorry, ‘m sorry--” You manage, voice sounding even drier than before. Overhaul tips his head to one side to consider you. You certainly look sorry, pathetic as you are. But . . . not good enough. Your neck feels good under his hands. He presses the other thumb.

Your hand flies up as if you’re going to grab his forearm, but flutters before it does. You force it back down, curling your fingers around the edge of the operating table – good. He doesn’t know how he’d have punished you if you’d been so bold as to touch him without permission or asking, but he knows you won’t have liked it.

You hate the feeling of the latex gloves on your bare skin; hate the squeaking sound they make when they rub against something, hate the cloying scent of them that lingers wherever Overhaul goes.

The fingers wrapped around the back of your neck dig in, too. He’s pressing too hard, restricting too much airflow – you try and take a hurried breath of air, but nothing can get through the blockage. Your lips suddenly feel very numb. Panic is flooding your senses, as well as a vague sense of . . . nothing.

If Overhaul chokes you out right now, and keeps going until you’re limp and your heart stops beating, nobody will do anything. Nobody will care. The thought is strangely comforting.

He releases the pressure, turning away in distaste as you let out a series of distressed little coughs. You manage to get your wrist in front of your mouth before you cough everywhere, but an antiseptic wipe is still pressed into your other hand forcefully before you’ve even stopped choking.

“What do you say?” He asks you, as he turns back to the medical trolley as if he didn’t just come seconds away from killing you. His gloved hand brushes various silvery medical tools, not all of which you recognise, and your heart misses a beat in fear at the sight of the surgical blades. He ignores those ones, thankfully, instead settling on a syringe.

You’re not sure what’s in this one, but you don’t ask. He’ll tell you as he does it; you no longer know how truthful he is, but it’s not like it matters.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you manage, through the hazy mess that is your poor oxygen-deprived brain. “I-I’ll t-take whatever you tell me to take.”

“I do it for your own good,” he tells you, tapping the syringe with one gloved finger. He looks at it with that same bored, unreadable expression. You wonder if you could tell what he was thinking better if he didn’t wear the mask. “I just don’t want you to be sick.”

He stresses the word. He is always talking about how filthy and ill and diseased the rest of the world is. You swallow again. You should be grateful. You should. Should be grateful that, for all he tells you is wrong with you and plies you with medicines and drugs and vitamins, he doesn’t think you’re sick enough to just outright disassemble you and put you back together.

You hold your arm out, hoping your compliance will make some of his anger at your outburst fade. His eyes linger on the pinprick bruises of your inner elbow, the side he usually injects.

“Just a painkiller,” he says to you, but you don’t believe him.

He doesn’t give you a warning the way nurses used to when you had to be injected as a child. The needle presses into your skin immediately, almost too deep, and you’re immeasurably glad that Overhaul doesn’t see the flinch on your face because he’s too busy watching the liquid be injected directly into your bloodstream.

Needle out. Gauze. Medical tape. He is practised, clinical, careful as he bandages the site of the injection.

(It’ll kick in in about fifteen minutes, he thinks. By then, you’ll have your back flat and your feet in stirrups and you won’t say anything as he presses three gloved fingers inside of you. All you’ll do is let your breath catch, your hips jerk, your eyes hazy and unfocused as the tranquiliser works its magic.)

An alarm sounds from the device wrapped around your wrist.

“Ah,” he says. “I’ll give you the new vitamin now, then. Just a moment.”

He strides over to the other side of the room and you are well-trained enough to not let your eyes follow him, as perfectly organised cupboards are opened and the rattle of pills echoes in your ears.

You turn the bracelet around your wrist off. It’ll beep again once more, later on, for your third lot of medications. Once in the morning, to both wake you up and to tell you to take your first cocktail of pills. Overhaul never usually sees you until the afternoon unless he wants to check on something, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let you rot in bed hating your life all day.

(You are permitted some books, some hobbies that Overhaul does not think will be damaging to your poor health and that don’t make a mess. There is a half-finished embroidery in your desk drawer, a jigsaw puzzle you must have done twenty times spread out over the desk proper, origami animals in a neat line on your bedside table.)

The second alarm goes off at five fifteen. You are supposed to be in this room – you always consider it the surgery room, though it’s more of an examination room than anything else. You’re not permitted to wander the upstairs of the base at your leisure, much less the cavernous underground hallways, so you often wonder what else Overhaul is hiding down here. Overhaul gives you these drugs himself; sometimes this particular cocktail features some new tablet that you’ve never taken before. He watches you take them with the eyes of a hawk, checking underneath your tongue to make sure you’ve swallowed them all.

And the last lot are taken before you go to bed (half nine in the evening, always. Overhaul says a routine for you is integral to keeping you well).

He’s back. One small cup full of rattling pills and medication is given to you, and a half glass full of purified water from the water filter jug in the refrigerator.

He watches you tip the small cup back, watches the bob of your throat as you trustingly swallow them.

You don’t bother looking inside of it before you do this; you probably won’t recognise half of what it is, anyway. You’re going to take them no matter what, so you have decided perhaps it’s better the devil you do not know.

A gulp of cold water, too loud. You’re given a tissue to wipe your mouth.

You’re suddenly getting very tired. Your arms feel very heavy, your mouth dry, your head stuffed with cotton wool. You blink so slowly you feel like you’re wading through a marsh.

“Mouth open,” he’s saying, again, and you do it so he can check you’ve taken the medication, but it sounds and feels like he’s very far away. If you spoke aloud right now, you feel certain that your words would come out slurred and unrecognisable. “Good.”

Your brain attaches itself to the phrase. He so rarely praises you. You feel your mouth pull at the corners, your smile somnolent and pliant. You cannot see the way Overhaul smirks at your expression underneath his mask, but you can see the pleased light reflecting in his eyes.

“Last examination,” he tells you, brusquely. “Lean back. Feet up. You know what to do, don’t you?”

You do! You’ve done this one a hundred times. A soft giggle escapes from your lips as you swing your legs slowly onto the table and the back is readjusted by Overhaul’s own steady hands to make you comfortable. It is comfortable, despite the cold, sticky leather. You miss the stirrup the first time, and you hear Overhaul click his tongue as you’re forcibly pushed into them. It’s not your fault. You always feel drowsy after taking your medicine, but today is even worse than usual--

“Just relax,” he tells you. Latex-covered fingers rest on your outer thighs, pushing the thin medical gown up so that the hem is ruched up around your waist. “Close your eyes. This will be cold--”

You close your eyes and let out a soft sigh as slick, cold fingers (you suppose that he lubricated them, and you’re grateful – he’s not always so kind) gently prod at the space between your legs.

You could fall asleep, right here, you think – which is absurd. You shouldn’t be feeling so heavy and tired and comfortable whilst your . . . you never have quite the right words to describe what Overhaul is to you, but the fact remains that you shouldn’t be so trusting and naive as to fall asleep here with fingers that have killed probing your slit.

You can hear a clock ticking as if it’s somewhere very far away. You can hear Overhaul’s meticulous, even breathing – like even that has to be perfectly in time, perfectly meted out. You can feel your own erratic heartbeat, like a bird trapped in your chest.

You shouldn’t fall asleep, you shouldn’t fall asleep--

You watch fireworks and swirls and patterns on the inside of your eyelids like you’re at a festival; the kind you are no longer allowed to attend, lest somebody’s sickness rub off on you. Watching your own in your mind seems like the next best thing.

You drop into oblivion.