#if i've got something wrong please PLEASE correct me

[spymeister]

εїз

Jazz absolutely still celebrates Día de Muertos long after he left Earth.

He initially fell in love with the tradition while on a mission in Oaxaca, Mexico. During his initial foray into the city and the creation of a local-specific holo-avatar, he had watched as the city he found himself in started the preparations.

A quick scan of the local websites, a download of a Mexican Spanish Language-Pak, and a little research had given him the basic gist of how the two days were celebrated and what was done and created.

It took watching the locals around him to see why it was so important.

As a spy, and often saboteur during a period of active war, he's no stranger to deactivation- or death, as the denizens of this world called it. Their dedication to remembering their past loved ones, to celebrating their lives, inviting those souls (sparks) to come dine with them.

To keep them living in memories and words and deeds—

— had been very humbling to a being who had outlived literal stars.

He'd also been humbled by the kindness and the inclusion into those festivities and remembrances after he'd allowed himself to be seen in root mode. Even now, he carries the necessary items for the ofrenda: the holo-photos of frame-kin, and friends long gone, the silica candles and fragrant metal incense.

Crystal of gold and orange to stand in for the cempasúchil. Small flimsy sheets of thin metal and steel linen for the banners since he doesn't have access to paper for the papel picado. He leaves energon in a crystal pitcher and a small cloudbread of fluffed energon and arsenic flour.

He doesn't paint the Calavera on himself, as he's currently out of his paints- but he sings the songs of his friends, his family, and the places he misses the most.

Earth might have been a horrible experience in some respects, but he can never find it in himself to regret it.

Or those humans who had been so kind to him.

He'll remember them for eons to come, so they'll never truly die—

— or be forgotten.

[ideograph-advantage]

i'm surprised people only focus on the overarching dynamic! of course it doesn't matter when it's a short fic, but for a longer work, the individual dynamics between any duo in the triad/polycule is important to highlight to make sure the reader can truly understand why these characters love each other.

In polyamoric relationships, two people may have known each other for significantly longer than their partner(s), and hence share a closer relationship. Does that mean the partner they only 'acquired' later has a bond any less significant to these two people than they have with each other? No, not always.

Like the original poster stated, polyamoric relationships aren't about 'equality' in the sense everyone needs and gives the same things to a partner A the way partner B would. Rather, it's about making sure your partners have their present needs met, since every person has their own individual capacity to give and receive.

Pairings within a polycule always have their own unique dynamic; different pairings share different histories, different expectations for the other, different reasons for being attracted to the other, etc etc etc. Unlike in monogamous relationships, you absolutely cannot generalise these things if your focus is the polycule itself, unless you're satisfied with a flat, two dimensional polyamorous depiction.

My advice to monogamous people writing polyamorous relationships is the same as what the original poster stated: focus on the individuals and interactions between the duos within the polycule. Realistically, all of them aren't always together; you can vaguely think of it as a close friend group.

For example, you'd rather tell friend A about a certain matter bothering you because you know they'll be able to offer you better advice or input about that matter than friend B or friend C. On the other hand, you might go to friend B if you want to discuss, say, thermodynamics, because you know the two of you share this interest in common that none of your other friends do.

This is, of course, a major oversimplification, but different partners will naturally have different levels of intimacy. That's not a bad thing, and monogamous people need to understand that it does not make it any less equal. Sometimes in polyam relationships, the members are equally close and intimate with each other, but this is not always the case and that's OK! Not everyone is capable of being extremely close relationships to two or more people, especially in cases of larger polycules.

I've heard stories of couples who were happy with each other for a while, before another person came into the picture and a polyamoric dynamic began. In these cases, of course the initial couple will know more of the mundane, intimate details about each other, and that truth is not inherently excluding the third person. Communication is key, and if the third person does feel excluded, that will need to be stated clearly to maintain a healthy and balanced relationship. What is a constant, though, is the attraction, and over time, maybe the third person will reach the amount of intimacy this couple has with each other. Even if they don't (since this kind of thing is entirely out of their control), as long as they are satisfied with what they get out of the relationship based on their individual needs, it's ok. It's a valid dynamic, and it's not unbalanced unless its made to be.

One of the really fun and interesting things about writing a polyamorous romance as someone who is ambiamorous/polyamorous is finding new ways to make sure the narrative hits the expected genre beats without just sort of... mushing it into a pre-existing monogamous romance mold, which is what I'm afraid happens a lot of the time.

Trust me, it was my job in the publishing house to make them fit that mold. I hated it.

Reading other poly-centric romances, I can always somewhat tell when someone is writing polyamory from a sexual fantasy aspect (zero shade; I'm here for all the group sex) without actually considering how it functions as a relationship dynamic, which can often come off as... well.

It's lacking for me as a romance.

Erotica-wise, it's fine. But it misses the romantic beats for me that I want as a polyamorous-leaning person.

There's so much emphasis on the polycule and never the individual dyads within the larger relationship.

For example, in a triad, there are actually four relationships to handle.

The dyad between A + B. The dyad between A + C. The dyad between B + C. And the overarching relationship between A + B + C.

With monogamous-leaning authors or authors that've been pressed into conforming to the pre-existing genre beats, there's a tendency to treat the relationship as a homogenous mass where everything is fair and equal, and you treat all your partners the exact same way.

And I get it. It's easier to write everything as peachy-keen and to have external conflict be resolved with either acceptance or a brave confrontation.

But it doesn't always land for me as someone who wants to see my style of love represented in the genre.

In healthy polyamory, either closed or open, each relationship is unique in its own way. Taking the example of a triad again, the way A acts with C likely differs from how A acts with B.

And that's a good thing!

Because C might not want the same things as B, so trying to treat them both the exact same is a surefire way to make sure someone isn't getting their needs met, and that will lead to conflict.

Polyamory isn't striving for equality between partners but rather equity.

What are your individual needs, and how do I meet them, as well as meet the needs of my other partner(s)? What do you want from the larger relationship as a whole? How do we accommodate everyone without making someone feel neglected or uncomfortable? How do we show this in the narrative? How do we make sure character A isn't just treating B the same as C in every interaction? Do they ever fall into that pitfall? How do they remedy it?

It seems like common sense when you write it out like that, but it's a major pitfall I see time and time again. The characters never alternate their approach between partners, if there's any focus on the individuals at all.

The other major telltale thing I've noticed is that taking time to be with one partner is seen as a step down from the "goal" of the greater polycule.

The narrative is framed in such a way that they might start out with individual dates, but the end goal of the romance is to eventually be together 100% of the time all the time, and wanting individual time alone with any one partner is somehow "lesser."

Which is the goal of romance in monogamy, but it's not the goal of romance in polyamory.

Granted, you do need to end on a Happy Ever After or Happy For Now for it to fit the genre requirement. And a nice way of tying that up is to have everyone together at the end as a happy polycule all together all at once. I'm not disputing that as a narrative tool. I'm just pointing out that there's a tendency to present those moments as the sum total of the relationship when in actuality, there are multiple relationships that need to end happily ever after.

The joy of polyamorous love is the joy of multitudes. It's the joy of experiencing new things, both as individuals and as a polycule. If you're not taking care of the individual dyads, however, your polycule is going to crash and burn. You cannot avoid that. So why, then, is there such avoidance of it in stories meant to appeal to us?

Is it simply inexperience on behalf of the author? Or is it that they're not actually being written for us? Is it continued pressure to meet certain genre beats in a largely monogamous-centric genre? All of the above?

Either way, I'm having fun playing around with it and doing all the things we were warned against in the publishing house.

I'm having fun with Nathan and Vlad enjoying their own private dynamic that is theirs and theirs alone. I'm having fun with Ursula and Nathan being so careful and vulnerable around each other. I'm absolutely 100% here for the chaos of Vlad and Ursula without a chaperone. And I'm here for the chaos of Vlad and Ursula together and Nathan's fond, loving eye roll as he trails after them, too enamored to tell either of them no because where would the fun in that be...

Anyway. Don't mind me. Just getting my thoughts out while everyone else is in bed.

[jimingyue]

Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

🖋️ meowful-musings Follow

🕊️ birdwatching Follow

what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine

💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204

op wheres the natural feeding option

🌲 outdoorsy Follow

you guys are getting fed?

#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look

7,192 notes

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3

🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow

as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3

#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....

154,688 notes

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right

❤️ loving-paws284 Follow

um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...

🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow

OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD

🐟 tunafeesh Follow

also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks

anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse

#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now

32,456 notes

🍃 naturalliving Follow

BORN TO DIE

WORLD IS A FUCK

猫神 Kill Em All 1989

I am trash cat

410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS

#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly

48,971 notes

🎣 salmonpurina Follow

can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther

#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks

34 notes

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!

🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow

evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

make your own pawst

💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721

umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...

👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow

Nyaverage shelter cat behavior

#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up

545,460 notes

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo

💡 discourse-meows Follow

hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

1. i was making. a joak

2. i'm literally gay???

#literally what's your pawblem

7 notes

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

i know you fuckers are lying

🍭 gaykittens Follow

this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

shut the heull up

988,653 notes

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise

🐁 ladymouser Follow

op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us

[heavyhitterheaux]

Mo' Money Mo' Problems

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Asking for help has always been hard for you, but when you aren't left with another option, your recently drafted NFL boyfriend comes to your rescue

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested: by a gorgeous anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Erin looked at you as you sat down across from her and sighed. This had been going on for the past week and you had now given yourself a headache trying to figure out what you were going to do.

“Call your boyfriend.” Erin told you as she threw your phone for you to catch it, but you quickly shook your head no as you caught it before it hit the floor.

“I am not calling him.”

“And why NOT?” She exclaimed and looked at you as if you were crazy.

“Because this is my problem and I'm going to deal with it. I don't have to run to him for every little thing.”

“YOUR BOYFRIEND PLAYS IN THE NFL! AS A QUARTERBACK! Or did you suddenly forget?”

“Just because he plays in the NFL doesn't mean I’m going to take advantage of that.” You said as you crossed your arms.

“Bestie, I love you but you fucking annoy me so much sometimes. So let me ask you this, Joe doesn't have a problem asking you for sex correct?”

“What in the world are you getting at?”

“Answer my question.”

“No, he doesn't.”

“And he fucks you raw simply because you had a fucking pregnancy scare two semesters ago when he won the Heisman.”

“Erin, get to the point already. I was scared out of my damn mind.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.

“My point is that you shouldn't have a problem asking your boyfriend who fucks you raw for money. At the very LEAST like bare minimum he can give you a little cash.”

“I get it but..”

“Uh no you obviously don't. And you know how he is. First thing out of his mouth is going to be why didn't you tell him. I'm convinced that man would drink your bath water if you let him.”

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Welp been doing that since we were three and that's not changing any time soon.”

“I don't know. I feel kind of weird asking people for anything. Like not just him and I’ve always been like that.” You said as you got up to go into your kitchen with Erin following close behind.

“It's not like he's going to want you to pay him back. I guarantee you that he'll give it to you without a second thought. You never know unless you try. Surprised he hasn't put your name on the bank account yet.”

“Something is wrong with you.”

“Bitch, don't act like he's not going to put a ring on your finger. Surprised he didn't do it our first semester.” Erin told you as you turned to look in the freezer for ground turkey to make homemade burgers for the two of you.

“Yes, obviously but not yet.”

“He is literally just waiting for you to graduate to do it.”

“And how do you know all this?” You asked as you began to cut up red onion along with some green bell peppers.

“I just do and like I said, he would drink your bath water.”

“Ew, Erin that's nasty.”

“Just calling it like I see it. But if you don't fix this in 48 hours when your rent is due, I'm calling Joe.”

Twenty four hours later you were finally lying down in your bed after a long and exhausting day, your phone rang indicating a facetime call coming through and you rolled over onto the other side to answer it. When your boyfriend's face came into view, you instantly smiled.

“Hi my love.” You quietly said and wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets that were covering you while propping up your phone.

“Hey baby doll. How was your day?” He asked while it looked like he was sitting up against the headboard.

“Hmm, long. I've been up since 4 in the morning. But you know I never pass up an opportunity to talk to you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too and Erin called me.”

“What? Why?”

She literally only gave you 24 hours and not 48 like she promised.

“You tell me. Something going on that I should know about?” Joe asked and you continued to look at him confused.

“Uh, not that I can think of.”

“Let me ask you this then. Have you paid your rent this month for your condo?”

“No and I have no idea why she called you. I told her I would take care of it.”

“Because you miscalculated your bills for this month and they added a whole bunch of fees and you decided to suffer instead of calling your boyfriend for help.”

“I…”

“Is that it?”

“I didn't want to bother you.” You quietly said and Joe just looked at you.

“Seriously? When are you ever bothering me? I have another question for you.”

“Yes?”

“You plan on being with me for a long time, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you know that I'm going to take care of you right? Especially when you graduate and move up here.”

“Yes.”

“So, why wouldn't I take care of you now?”

“I know you will, but if I can do it on my own, I'm going to try to.”

“But I'm here and you don't have to. Aren't you a WAG now?” Joe asked as he smiled at you.

“I want to be the W and not the G.” You replied without skipping a beat.

“Who’s to say that I don't already have your ring?”

“Well, my finger is still bare so? What does that do for me?” You told him as you held it up so he could see your hand.

“Touché, princess.” Joe told you as he smirked.

“Mm hmm, that's what I thought.”

“But next time you come up here we're picking out a house.”

“I…”

“Me and my future wife along with my future kids need a place to live so we can start looking. Or we can have it built, your choice."

“And a new car, mine is on its last leg.”

“Name it and it's yours. That goes for whatever else you want to.”

“NO! I'm going to get it! You are not going bankrupt buying someone who is not even your wife expensive things.”

“You ARE my wife; it's just not on paper yet.” He told you as he shrugged while your cheeks began to heat up.

“Babeeeee.”

“What? I'm not saying anything that isn't true. And besides, I'm not spending any money from my contract. Just my endorsement deals. But back to our original problem, you're good for the rest of the year.”

“I… JOEY! That was like 4,000 dollars!”

“Money is not a factor when it comes to you. If you need it, I'm getting it. So can we move on?”

"Fine, while I have you in a giving mood, I want an elephant." You replied and Joe simply gave you a blank stare.

"Best I can do is the Cincinatti Zoo, you gotta work with me here."

"Well, you said 'name it and it's yours'."

"Baby, I meant within reason and an elephant is not within reason."

[kozachenko]

I. LOVE. NAREKO. SO MUCH SHE HAS BECOME MY NEW FAVOURITE FROM THE DEMO OMG-

Artist's Notes;

Before I even knew about her character, her design and theme made me like her so much omg I knew I had to draw her and it was enough to distract me from the Touhou Project Inscryption AU art I was working on before this but that's not important right now. I love her and the stage 1 boss so much (Chimi is a little too weird for me I'm sorry), but Nareko's colour scheme stood out to me a lot.

I know she's not acutally Egyptian and is just larping, but I did try to give her some more melanin since I thought that sort of skin tone would jive better with some of her other colours. IDK why but tan skin and blue hair go really well together, this is like, the second time I've done this so far (I WILL GET TO KEIKI IN A MOMENT BECAUSE HOO HOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOY DO I HAVE SOME NEW IDEAS NOW). I also didn't feel like drawing hands, so I put them behind her back, though I do think the pose fits. I also exaggerated her shorts because again, her design has is really fun to exagerrate and stylize. I didn't go too nuts on the rendering, really only felt inspired to do some of the clothes and a few gold bits. One of her key earrings kinda got lost in some of the gold but honestly I just wanted to doodle her.

AND NOW ONTO MY IDEA WITH KEIKI BECAUSE OOOH MY GOODNESS I NEED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN. So like, in ancient Egypt, one important part of their funerary rights were these little idols called Shabti, which were intended to assist the dead in the afterlife as servants and were used since all the way back in Old Kingdom Egypt. Another funerary rite Egypt is well known for is also the pyramids, which were large tombs constructed for the deceased that also date back to Old Kingdom Egypt. (If I get something wrong with ancient Egyptian history btw, please correct me in the comments)

All I'm saying is that Keiki could very possibly connect with Nareko over funerary rights, and Nareko would probably appreciate the funerary rites of the Kofun period that Keiki has dominion over since there some similarities between Ancient Egyptian funeral rites and Kofun period funeral rites (not saying they are identical, but these are just some connections I've noticed). You know, maybe if Nareko met Keiki she'd probably help support her in her faith since she would also likely believe in idol worship and...y'know, they'd probably be friends :)

...Their ship name is Kei/Reko and I will say no more.

Now back to the Touhou Project Inscryption AU I was working on before this

[my-castles-crumbling]

wine - jegulus-ish? - prompt from TTPD server's microprompt challenge - word count: 363

Sighing, Regulus stared at the rows and rows of wine, resisting the overwhelming urge to cry in the middle of the liquor store. While he felt like he knew something about wine, the pressure of selecting wine for this particular evening was so high that he felt like he might pass out. And it didn't help that he had zero guidance. James was great in most ways, but useless in others.

"Alright there?"

A calm, soothing voice broke Regulus from his panic, and he looked up to see the most motherly-looking woman he'd ever seen. From her kind smile to her genuinely concerned expression, she oozed maternal love, and made him want to melt.

"I-I'm fine," he sighed. Normally, he would have left it there, but for some reason, the warmth the woman gave off made him want to share more. "I'm just meeting my boyfriend's parents tonight, and...I'm nervous," he chuckled. "I don't do well with things like this and I think I've convinced myself if I pick the perfect wine, things will go perfectly."

Wrinkles formed in the corner of the woman's eyes as she grinned wider, and her warm hand moved to rest on Regulus's shoulder. "Do you love him, beta?"

Thinking of James, his beautiful grin, his laughter, the way he held him and loved him and made him laugh and constantly made his life better, Regulus couldn't help but smile and nod. "So much. More than anything, really."

The woman nodded like she was confirming something. "Then his parents will love you. All a good parent wants is for their child to be loved, after all. And if they don't...it's on them, not you."

Smiling softly and nodding back, Regulus sighed, his anxiety easing just a bit. "Alright. I-thank you."

"I also helps to bring a Chardonnay," she continued, reaching forward and handing him a bottle, eyes sparkling. "Now. I have no doubt that things will go well for you, but...good luck, Regulus."

He thanked the kind woman again, only realizing after he got to his car that he'd never told her his name.

He shouldn't have been shocked later to find out her name was Euphemia Potter.

-

The internet was a bit iffy about a translation for 'dear' in Hindi, since I had to take into account age, relationship, and gender so please correct me if I'm wrong!

[rimatsu]

I feel like the mood among the bucktommies has changed once again, it was more hopeful and now it seems like it's more in the phases between bargaining and acceptance, as if a reconciliation was already out of the realm of great possibilities.

I don't know if this is just because of the renewal, which I find kind of absurd since the renewal was already a sure thing, or if the last episode + the lack of any mention of Tommy after 811, made people less convinced that the show will deliver something narratively satisfying. I don't know, I personally end up being affected by these waves of reality/negativity and my expectations have also lowered again.

What do you think? Has anything changed in your expectations for a reconciliation? Do you have any hopeful words to share?

i'll be honest, i don't understand how doom and gloom can still persist given everything we know about upcoming episodes. i've said it before and i'll say it again: the 806 press debacle (wrong buzzer noise) made the bucktommy troops entirely too cynical. there's being cautious, and then there's being unhelpfully pessimistic. as per previous tags: please be serious 😭😭😭

nothing that we’re seeing unfold on screen (and off-screen for that matter when it comes to leaks) points toward closure — quite the opposite, actually. and the simplest explanation is usually the correct one: if it feels like the third act of a romcom, it probably is one.

alright, this is going to be long, and redundant, so please bear with me as i try to convince stubborn doubters that a reconciliation is in fact very, very likely.

first things first... tommy is officially an outlier in buck's romantic history. let's review the facts, shall we?

in order of narrative importance:

- ali was arguably the most underdeveloped LI of this list. dating her was a decision made in an effort not to regress to past behaviors and she brought buck to his loft. ultimately she couldn't handle the risks of the job and broke up with him in the s2 finale. ali got one mention post-breakup

- natalia was the supposed happily-ever-after partner the show paired buck with under the threat of cancellation. she was the extreme opposite of ali and had a morbid fascination for buck's brush with death, something that was initially refreshing before becoming off-putting. their breakup happened offscreen in between seasons 6-7 and she got one expository mention

- taylor was his longest relationship and the most fleshed out, at least in term of screentime, their story spanning seasons with casual hookups in s2, a friendship marked by romantic tension in s4, and finally a committed relationship in s5. the first fracture was caused by buck's infidelity and more importantly the lies and overcompensation brought on by guilt, but the reason they split was ultimately because of fundamental differences in morals/work ethics/ambitions. his experience with taylor was formative because it taught buck not to give up on the whole relationship at the first sign of trouble (a valuable lesson he seemingly forgot since then but i digress…) she got one tv cameo post breakup (indirect mention)

- abby was the person who opened buck's eyes to his true desire (emotional closeness and romantic intimacy) but they had vastly different attitudes toward their relationship: she was the first big love of buck's life, but as much as she cared for him, maybe even loved him, he was mostly a distraction from the chaos of her life, and she seemingly had realistic expectations about their future together. their 'breakup' is a case of unusual circumstances. buck was hung up on her for a good chunk of s2, but they didn't technically end things in the previous finale. buck wholeheartedly believed she'd return to him after a few months and abby never dissuaded that notion. but once he realized she wouldn't, buck promptly moved on: first by pursuing taylor, and then ali. abby only got mentioned again in s3 to foreshadow her guest appearance for closure purposes. i'll compare and contrast her reintroduction to tommy's later on.

- and then we have mr. self-sabotage himself, tommy kinard, who unlocked the wonders of bisexuality laying dormant in buck (and unleashed his #Spoiled Brat tendencies). the first distinction from previous LIs is that their breakup wasn't written as definitive or unfixable. allow me to quote myself like a pompous asshole because i can't be bothered to rephrase the same sentiment (i'll be doing a lot of copy/pasting, actually... i did warn you against redundancy): they didn't part way because of irreconciliable differences or because passion/attraction fizzled out or because they envisioned different futures. if they wanted that door closed, tommy could’ve simply said he was uninterested in pursuing longterm commitment with buck, that they’re not compatible in the long run. there: a clean, uncomplicated break. instead, we were told that tommy desperately wants to be the person buck settles down with, except he’s convinced buck is propelled by the excitement of novelty, that he suspects buck is latching onto him for the wrong reasons, that he can’t allow himself to merge their home life together in fear that he’ll never recover once buck wants out. the implication here being tommy was in love with buck already, or at least halfway there. for his part, buck came to the realization that he wanted a future with tommy and immediately decided to pursue it because that's just the type of man he is: never one to do things by half-measures, seeing no value in waiting once his mind is made up. so there was no conflicting desire there. they wanted the same thing: permanence with each other, but fear and insecurity derailed the whole thing. let's call 806 Miscommunication 1.0. the second notable distinction? there has been a grand total of 4 tommy name drops post-confessions when we usually only get the one before buck moves on to greener pastures. hell, buck was having such a hard time with the breakup he developed a coping mechanism in order to deal with it. the baking was comically excessive and lasted 5 whole episodes. buck considers the breakup to be the beginning of his life unravelling — he implied that being with tommy was life as it should be, even... yeah, there's no precedent for this behavior. we've never seen him stuck on an ex to this extent before. tommy is starting to earn his most transformative relationship title beyond the obvious queer awakening aspect of it all, isn't he? now these repeated mentions weren't necessary (and unnecessary will be a word i use liberally moving forward), especially the one we got after a 4 months hiatus. we know why the writers included them now: they were keeping the thread alive for buck & tommy's reunion in 811. that's something the most optimistic of us kept pointing out despite those disheartening "exit interviews" — the breakup was too abrupt and open-ended, and the tommy mentions too frequent and pointed, for 806 to be the end of their story. 

speaking of 811, let's dissect that episode and establish why holy mother of god alone is a strong indicator of an upcoming makeup. because my god, did it do the opposite of presaging closure...

time to compare and contrast with abby! when she reappeared, both her and buck had moved on. yes, there was still some lingering affection, and he was single and had plenty of unaswered questions, but he wasn't haunted by them or abby anymore, and she was happily engaged to another man. i repeat: they both had moved on. getting back together was never an option introduced by 318. abby came back for one thing: firmly close that chapter of buck's life and heal whatever scars he still carried because of her. that isn't the case for the bucktommy Bare Mattress Fuckfest of 2025.

first of all, a hook-up? really? unnecessary. if the only goal was to shoehorn in the buddie question (as some people naively claim), then that could've happened at the bar. hell, tommy didn't have to be brought back for it at all: maddie could've floated the idea by herself when buck kept showing up at her doorstep looking as pathetic as a wet dog. it sure would've saved production some money! and if the showrunner was going for closure (he wasn't), having buck sleep with tommy was counterproductive. it only served to highlight desire and sexual chemistry between them (something that was only ever vaguely implied in s7-8a). why emphasize an aspect of mlm relationships that was missing from the og show until now? (also, remember when the doom-and-gloomists were convinced buck's queerness would be buried, never to be mentioned again, after the hiatus? only for him to initiate gay sex on national tv? it was an understandable concern considering the current fate of DEI programs, but catastrophizing caused unwarranted stress and grievances. let's maybe give the show a modicum of grace until proven otherwise?)

more importantly, 811 established that tommy regretted the breakup. that's something we could infer from the bubbling in 807, but there's a world of difference between considering contact a week post-breakup and still actively pining for buck 3-4 months after they ended things. tommy drove by the loft just the other day. recently. he hasn't moved on — is more affected by the breakup than buck himself, even. that's... you guessed it, completely unnecessary (and frankly cruel) if closure is the destination ahead. but it can't possibly be, because you know what else 811 nearly established? a reconciliation. tommy asked for a second chance, and buck was receptive to the suggestion before Insecurity and Foot-in-Mouthism derailed the plans.

instead of letting their romance naturally fade into the background after the hiatus, the writers purposefully reignited that flame. they crafted a scenario meant to prolong uncertainty about bucktommy's future together instead of closing that door forever. even without the contagion spoilers confirming that tommy will be back for the two-parter, the audience expects another conversation between the two exes. there were too many things left unsaid after that aborted kitchen argument. buck owe tommy an apology and a clarification, and he has yet to reveal that he missed tommy as well during their time apart — the viewers know that to be true but tommy was left with no reciprocation after admitting he fought constant urges to call. worse, he was left heartbroken after being told their night together meant nothing. sorry if i sound like a broken record, but that was unnecessary: there's no point in introducing conflict and Miscommunication 2.0 if they have no payoff.

as for the jealousy over eddie reveal... as many have pointed out, narrowing down tommy's insecurities is actually a good sign. the fears he spoke of in 806 were more formless and abstract, harder to assuage. jealousy over one specific person is easier to confront and work through as a couple (and it can be fodder for more drama if the writers don't sweep the whole thing under the rug). though i'll say that i'm inclined to believe tommy when he claims he was mostly joking — as in i don't think eddie was the root cause of the breakup. 811 doesn't retcon 806, only adds an appendix. tommy questioning the nature of buck's feelings for eddie is part of a larger picture (and a larger issue).

now i keep parotting the word unnecessary because 911 does not exist in a vacuum. every writing and acting choice is intentional and must serve a purpose. the hookup could've ended amicably but it didn't. tommy could've agreed with buck when he said their drunken romp didn't have to change a thing but he didn't. buck didn't have to sniffle and look miserable when he admitted that loneliness was no reason to pursue a relationship. in fact the whole episode is peppered with parallels and callbacks. buck and tommy wearing their breakup outfits as if they've been suspended in time since november is deliberate. the fact that the first night buck ever spent in his new place was with tommy in his bed was also deliberate. and this isn't my bucktommy-addled brain reading too much into a scene. slamming each other into walls while a song about never finding home plays in the background is no coincidence. quoting myself like a pompous asshole again: tommy was the necessary catalyst for buck to make peace with eddie's departure and start viewing the house as his own. he says verbatim "[sharing a bed with tommy] was the first night i was actually able to sleep in that place" — once again tommy is linked to comfort and safety and the beginning of a new journey. tommy started the unpacking process for him with that coffeemaker. buck is baking (an activity that was established as a visual indicator of pining for tommy) while he firmly shuts down the notion that he might harbor buried feelings for his straight-heterosexual-notinterestinmen-notanoption best friend. he expresses frustration and anger at the idea that tommy seemingly spent their entire relationship worrying about another man. later when maddie (the audience/buddie stand-in) assumes he's talking about calling eddie, buck corrects her and reasserts that tommy is the person he's thinking about. that was the throwback to 704. it's not about eddie.

for a brief moment in that kitchen, buck and tommy slipped back into domesticity. tommy waking up at the asscrack of dawn to buy groceries and prepare a veritable feast isn't meaningless either (at least i hope it isn't): it's a callback to masks — tommy the caretaker dotting on buck. i want to believe that scene was intentionally designed to contrast buck's dynamics with tommy compared to his relationships with the rest of the cast: the baker being fed, the eternal giver being the recipient of care. buck is loved but he's no one's priority. everyone he knows (with the exception of ravi who wants nothing to do with him lmao) has a spouse and/or children who naturally take precedence over him, but he could be tommy's priority.

it's also worth noting that tommy's "i can't move in with you" morphed into "i'm not ready to move in yet." could it be... foreshadowing i sense? third time's the charm is shaping up to be bucktommy's operating principle.

alright, enough yapping about 811. let's move on to spoilers territory. i'll try to keep speculations to a minimum but they're inevitable so take everything with a grain of salt.

tommy's unique skills set (tim's words) will be featured in the two-parter. his status as a previous member of the 118 was also emphasized. he'll readily assist his old firehouse in a time of crisis agsin (the rule of three strikes once more). contagion is described as a season opening/finale worthy emergency. 814-815 will be a large scale spectacle and is sure to be memorable given bobby's alleged death.

again, involving tommy in the two-parter is unnecessary. if a pilot is needed, background character #34 could do the job. i won't bring up the "it's way too much effort and money for closure" argument because we know for a fact that 815 isn't the end of the bucktommy storyline. tommy is featured in at least another episode, and a major one at that. i beg all debby downers out there to exercise reason: why on earth would they bring back buck's ex not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES (and counting) post-breakup if it's not for a reconciliation? a makeup is the only thing that makes narrative sense.

bts pictures/videos place both tommy and buck on the rooftop helipad during daylight and in the coliseum at nightfall, surrounded by heavy military and fbi presence. i think it's safe to assume they'll be stuck together in a helicopter for a few hours. forced proximity is a classic romcom trope for a reason: if there's ever a time to hash out their issues, it's midair with nowhere to run.

now let's focus on buck for a second. he followed maddie's advice: learning to be alone, to be content on his own so he doesn't spiral again the next time he's broken up with or a friend moves away. and content buck seemingly is, comfortable in his home and in his skin. it's a breakthrough: when he interacts with tommy again, loneliness will no longer be a factor influencing his desire to reconnect. buck has gained some measure of clarity since 811.

and reuniting under these less than ideal circumstances? pretty promising actually. tommy's loyalty and his willingness to help the 118 are two characteristics that captured buck's attention in the first place. it's an opportunity to recreate the initial spark, with the added knowledge of the man hiding behind the confident façade.

as for the presumed 816 leaks... tommy is part of bobby's honor guards. that tells me he plays a crucial role in 815, and if you ask me, there are only three reasonable options to explore:

1. buck and tommy makeup during the two parter. they're officially a couple again by the time the credits roll

2. what i think is more likely to happen: they start to reconcile in 815. they have a frank conversation and the groundwork for a reconciliation is laid down when buck asks for a saturday date but a proper makeup is put on standby as soon as the ripper knocks on bobby's door. they're left to navigate grief in this weird in between-state, but the desire to give it another try has been expressed free from the influences of loneliness or grief

3. they reconcile in the finale. tommy offers support as a 'friend' and buck leans on him until bobby inevitably rises from the dead ("i'm not lonely, and i'm not mourning, and i still want you")

i'm optimistic but not delusional: a love confession in the two-parter is way too ambitious and i'm not holding my breath for it. i don't think buck is quite there yet. his feelings for tommy are pretty... nebulous. he saw a future there, one he wanted to cement, and he sure looked and acted in love, but he never said it. hell, he had to be talked through realizing he was serious about tommy. in contrast, he readily defined his feelings for ex-girlfriends (he loved abby and taylor and told us as much) and for eddie (he knows he's not in love with the guy). i find buck's limited introspection when it comes to tommy endlessly fascinating... but that's a conversation for another day.

i'm losing steam so let's wrap this up. i wasn't thrilled by the s9 renewal but that's only bc 911 is an objectively mediocre show with a godawful fandom and i'll be held hostage around these hellish parts for at least another year. i don't see why the renewal would automatically mean bad news for bucktommy. the point of wanting them back together is to see them explore the joys and challenges of a committed relationship. another season is a prerequisite. oliver said buck is maturing: he's entering a new, more settled phase of his life, and i can't imagine the return of the hamster wheel at this point. if anything, i expect buck to reach new relationship milestones next season.

anyway...... i'm not claiming it's a 100% guarantee, let's start celebrating now (let us not forget the black mold infestation plaguing the writers' room) but logic dictates that a reconciliation is underway. so, long story short... yes, i am genuinely very optimistic about our chances <3

[strawbewee]

begging for ANYTHING fix it related for the most recent season !!!

five x reader and they are married?? it would be nice if the reader had a more relaxed job in comparison to five in the CIA (the reader used to also work for the commission but wanted a calm life)

like maybe working in a daycare or flower shop?

i’m honestly begging for anything sweet please if you’ve got the time !

THIS HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. YES, I WILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU <3 I ALSO HATE THE WAY THEY CHARACTERIZED FIVE IN THE NEW SEASON. This will be very domestic :3 And it's been a while since I've written Five, I hope he's not too out of character, let me know if you have any pointers :3

The door to your apartment creaks open and heavy footsteps enter, the jangling sounds of house keys hitting the ceramic bowl reaching your ears with a sigh following.

"Good evening, Jerome." You coo.

"I did not pick that name, quit calling me it." Five huffs as he shrugs off his suit jacket, entering the living room. He looked tired, but he was okay with that. He didn't want to settle for some repetitive job he'd be bored as hell at. Even if they gave him stupid aliases like Jerome.

"You could have at least asked. That's embarrassing, telling people your name is Jerome. What about...Ethan? Or even something that's close to Five. Like, Finn, or something." You answered with a chuckle, while Five crumpled on the couch next to you.

"There isn't any point. It's not like you need to go around calling me that name." He said, taking off his tie and laying it across the arm of the sofa. "Anyway, how was work?" He asked, taking off his brown Oxfords and laying them nearby but out of the main walkway. He reached over to the stack of papers on the coffee table and looked at the first page. "Jesus, this is the sloppiest handwriting I've ever seen."

"Ah yes, because children who still have shitty motor skills are going to be writing in perfect print. That's why they only have to write their names, not write full-fledged essays." You said sarcastically, plucking the piece of paper from his hands. You looked over the assignment your kindergarteners were given. The instructions were to count the different types of bugs on the paper. There were no more than 9 of each bug. 4 butterflies, 7 caterpillars, 1 beetle, 8 spiders.

"I was never that dumb." Five said a little snarkily, pointing to the answer spot that said there were only 5 caterpillars.

"Don't be such a prick." You huffed, getting out a blue pen. You didn't like to use red, too harsh. You circled each answer wrong, not making any corrections.

"How are you even meant to teach them this? It's basic counting." Five asked, sort of actually curious.

"We'll just go over it in class tomorrow. Everyone will count together."

"Then what's the point of the homework?"

You groaned. "We are not having this conversation anymore, old man." You pulled out a pack of stickers, putting one on each sheet of paper.

"You're just as old." He countered with a smirk, leaving you to roll your eyes and continue 'grading' the papers. He did shut up and drop the subject, letting his hand stray to your hand that wasn't busy grading papers. He wasn't ever one for physical affection in the past, but ever since getting to this place? He was more lenient. He was never hanging off of you, but his touches were gentler. Each contact of skin was a small way of saying 'I love you', because it was hard to say it out loud after years of isolation.

The biggest way of him saying he loved you was twisting the ring that nicely fit on your finger like he was doing right now. Like he was making sure you were aware of its presence and meaning.

You finished the papers in less than five minutes. You did not envy the fourth-grade teachers who had actual homework to grade. "Your dinner is in the fridge." You told him, taking his other hand and playing with the black band that adorned his ring finger.

"Not hungry." He said shortly, like he was offended you'd ever assume he wanted to do something aside from this. He wouldn't ever say that out loud, of course.

"It's sushi. Made by yours truly." You added, holding back a chuckle when he sucked in a deep breath, very torn between the options. It was weird, able to sit and think about something. He wasn't rushing home to eat and go to bed, he got to do domestic shit with you and fuck did he love it.

"..." Five stayed silent like a brooding teenager.

"I'll come with you." You reasoned, and he reluctantly sat up. You smiled and got up with him, the two of you traversing to the kitchen. He opened the door to the fridge and grabbed the small Tupperware of delicious looking sushi. You were not a fan of Commission cafeteria food, and you took pride in buying the best ingredients for you and your spouse. You were already grabbing him a pair of chopsticks, sitting with him at the kitchen island.

"...thanks." He said after eating a roll. He was stubborn, but he really did appreciate you taking the time to make more for him when he got home late. It was so nice to come home to a homemade meal. It reminded him of Grace.

"Of course, honey." You smiled, sitting in silence while he ate. He savored every moment. After being in the apocalypse for forty years, he really grew to appreciate the things he didn't have. He swore he would never take this life for granted.

He never questioned why, because the whole reason was sitting right next to him.

[ghelullu]

Okay so Frankfurt skeletour ritual!!

I probably forgot a lot, because it WAS a lot. Tldr: fucking amazing. They're all so good. The long version is under the cut

The bass was on 90000, felt in your entire body

No Swiss (and no, papa didn't mention it at all)

Peacefieeeeeeeeeld 😭😭😭😭🤌🏽 it's SO so so so good live with the added synths

papa sounds absolutely fucking amazing

During spirit he lasciviously rubbed up his thigh while looking me into the eye and I perished

We got Faith again (instead of Pinnacle) and he said Dummkopf

He got rid of the teleprompter, which makes total sense - he wasn't looking at it ever because he's way too busy interacting with his crowd (aka killing us)

Majesty got replaced this time by CMLS (Swiss vocals were missed a lot here)

Germans were germanly clapping and he channeled his inner Terzo and gave me a tiny stamp of approval for clapping correctly (years of playing jazz on the saxophone finally paid off, my teacher would be so proud)

He thanked us for our patience after the post cmls change, very polite man

Rain is an excellent bass player and he's getting more and more sassy

At one point papa ran behind the stage and seemed to stumble over the drum stage thingy step, bless him

He wanted us to not be gentle but rough with him despite being new again, slut

No jacket for TFIAL, only the silky shirt, I died again

The mitre with the wings seemed more stable, I guess they fixed it to the mask or something

Holding eye contact with him when he bends over with the red light in his face during a Hell Satan is FINE

The backdrop Deflation worked mostly fine this time, only a bit got stuck on the edge. No close calls for any ghoulettes

Speaking of ghoulettes: at one point aurora and the new one joined dew at his side of the stage and it was very cute

Dew was hobbling around with his big boot, poor guy, but he did well!! Got a big shout out from papa before squammer

He also didn't seem to lose his pants as much, but jesus christ are they tailored to the crotch (not a complaint)

When umbra started no one visibly knew the song but me in the area and he looked into my eyes and, while starting singing, fixed his collar and I died yet again (if you know the song already, then you understand even more why)

With no Swiss there, new ghoulette was playing the cowbell

The guitar/keyboard bit in umbra is so incredibly sexy

He fucking ciriced Jesus (a cosplayer in a jesus costume, not their stage manager) at least it looked like that from where I was standing, please correct me if you were near there and I'm wrong. Also the sparkly mask is SO sparkly

Mummy dust. He did the Copia butt grab thing and stuck his tongue out (slut), choked himself with the ascot (slut) and for the thrusting bit put a leg on a box and went low for some very biblical hip movement (slut)

The mummy dust amount and coverage was... Not very good, mightve been bc of the odd shape of the venue (I think they usually have more cannons)

Bouncy papa in KTGG. Also his shirt rode all the way up, full stomach.

Made a not bad face at our singing participation esp during dathoml but we did fail the ch ch ch but badly, tbf

He seemed less smiley than in Manchester and what others described during the last few rituals. Not sure if that's bc of the ✨things✨ or because he's trying to keep himself from grinning the whole time (sometimes he squeezes his lips together in a way that looks like he's doing that), was more smiley during the encore though

He mentioned ghost. Like. As the name of the band. On stage??? I was shook bc I've never heard him do that in character!!?

For the anon who asked if cirrus does her sexy solo thing in monstrance clock: yes she does, everyone bow to the queen

After monstrance clock the Germans germaned again and shouted zugabe, zugabe, Which he pretended not to understand upon returning to the stage

"Do you think we are cheesy? Do you like cheese(y)?? (loud German cheer because we do love cheese) Then we are the right band for you, I give you Käse!!!"

Papa also said that he doesn't know much German, only a little bit "ungefähr" he always knows the most random words

Bouncy papa for Dance Macabre again. No wobble wobble though, sad.

Papa and phantom twirl!!!! Also papa twirling at the front of the stage and the behind the stage walking area

Squammer rocks always

Phantom is an absolutely amazing guitar player, it can't be said enough, and he's also becoming more and more of an entertainer too

One of rains picks bounced off my forehead and someone picked it up and kept it :((( (I didn't see it incoming bc of dude in front of me and his hat)

Other notes

Security was good (at least what I saw), especially ghosts own security crew is excellent, very fun and friendly, handing out water, joking around with fans, a+++ guys

The vip items are an insult there's no other words for this lmao

The org for leaving the venue was bad with a stream of people walking to their jackets crossing the stream of people leaving, it took forever

I had an amazing spot in the 3rd/4th row and everytime you make eye contact with Papa you die, it's like a superpower of his

Eye contact with the ghouls is extremely cool due to their mask making their eyes only barely visible

If you are wearing a big hat to a concert and don't take it off during the concert you're a fucking asshole and deserve to be punched in your face 5 times

The whole stage setup is still so cool. As far as I could tell the THE spotlight situation got mostly solved, at least I didn't encounter it (if you know you know). The lights from the big grucifix lighting rig are incredibly bright if they hit you in the face though, like I was so close to putting on my sunglasses at one point 😂but they're never on like this for long!

Edit: added thoughts that I forgot previously

He didn't miss the start of dathoml this time

Still doesn't know lyrics to faith and many other songs (I say lovingly, bc same)

They soundchecked nocturnal me (I didn't hear much and only realised it was that after someone posted this) and if they play this and I don't get any recordings of that I will die (according to twitter they also soundchecked depth of Satan's eyes!)

Phantom mvp, again.

Germans germaning vs the poor ghoulbangers lady; most of us FLEE when there's an interview person, but luckily there's always a Rampensau (affectionate) ready to save the rest of us

His vocals are so good, god.

Papa is really going through it during satanized, protecting his head and crouching down suffering on the stairs during the guitar solp

Peeeaaacefieeeeld

[ancientnapdragon]

hello scum villain fandom. i finished these silly books like two months ago and have been rotating them in my mind since then.

ANYWAY, i've come to propose a fun AU from my brain: Shen Yaun 'Food Peak' Lord. >:) (please excuse any typos i'm on my phone)

This is a Scumcum AU cause I decided that SJ is like my fave and I wanna see him get wifed up. Does he deserve it? No. Will this stop me? Also no.

So, slap cut to SY and he's suddenly like waking up the day after being chosen as a Sect disciple. He's like 13 and really confused and something feels... kinda wrong! It's like he has all these swiss cheese spots in his memory and he feels like he should be alarmed he's not in his own bed! But, he also IS in his own bed? What's his problem? SY is still 100% a transmigrator but since he's in a kid's body his memories are like half on lockdown. He remembers a few things but not much. The System shows up and seems just as surprised as this turn of events as he is, sort of analyzes a while, then ends up making him think (by accident) it's some like Guardian Family Spirit who is there to guide him.

In truth, the System is trying to find the best route to get the story on track within it's programming. This is NOT what it's assignment was supposed to be! Ugh!

SY has now been shuffled into what is basically an OC so it more or less just looks like him from his old life, not that he is aware, except as a kid. Everyone calls him Kong Yuan (name pending) (also I'll keep calling him SY for this to make it easier) and he was just taken into the lower Peak in charge of Food, Wine, and Elixirs. Of course this is like, with it's own special PIDW twist so everything is cool and magic. Without any real ideas on what to do otherwise, and feeling like this is Right, he throws himself into learning stuff about the Peak. He was a lazy Millennial rich boy in his last life so he's, like, kind of a SHIT COOK. That's on top of being kind of just bad at the type of physical cultivation needed for this Peak!

While highly specialized, the people on (Food) Peak are certified badasses in their own right, even if it's not in like a proper fight. You got people dipping arms and torsos in boiling oil, doing all sorts of fancy knife tricks with qi, tearing whole large beasts apart for processing; the Peak Lord and SY's new Shizun had some giant metal ladle that's twice as long as herself and looks like it weights more than a building. She's built and buff and uses this thing effortlessly to stir this giant cauldron in the center of the Peak that is as big as a house. It's a smaller Peak but always a flurry of activity! The System, deciding it will at least try and work with this, starts giving SY Taste Points as he improves. Occasionally, it will even give him little quests for bonus points! Usually it's for meeting new people, at the start, or learning certain techniques on his Peak. He notices that he usually get these 'Meet x Person' quests when on other Peaks, though... like that really sad looking but polite boy on Qiong Ding, the sort of nervous and mousy kid from An Ding, the sharp tongued girl from Xian Shu- even the real scary guy from Bai Zhan! Then after he gets those quests done, they always turn into a 'Befriend X Person' quest after... which is way harder but rewards more T Points!

(DID YOU THINK THIS WAS JUST A PEAK LORD AU BTW? NO NO NO! IT'S ALSO A QING DISCIPLE AU! HA! >:D) But why does he even WANT the T Points? Well, Guardian Spirit/System says it will provide him special memory rewards! SY rationalizes this as thinking he's receiving visions from a past? future? reincarnation of himself, which the System does not correct. It's usually smaller things about his old life, with the real important stuff all locked away behind higher and higher Points. The System will also provide him with small boosts to his palate (his was quite shit) and sometimes even... cookbooks! Part of being a Food Cultivator is enhancing your QI and Spiritual Veins by eating food that is both delicious as well as Spiritually Enhanced. This isn't just cooking in the kitchen with mama time, this is an ART. Only the best of the best have the refined palate, knowledge base, and skills to make their own recipes. It's fairly common on the Peak for the Masters to work for YEARS to try and make SOMETHING of their own they can be proud of! When SY is like 15, enough time to get to know his fellow (future) Peak Lords, he gets a special quest: [ BECOME HEAD DISCIPE ]. For the first time, THIS quest has a time limit (two years!), and the System warns him of graaaaaave consequences if he is not able to do so....

This lights a fire under his ass a bit and makes him panic! See, SY has all these cookbooks from the System, and he can even make some of the recipes! But most of them ask for all these ingredients he FEELS like he should know but he's never really heard of.... And some of the techniques are so strange, too! The System offers him a special upgrade (for what is, at the time, probably almost all this T-Points): A taste-alike Beastiary!

So, Ancient China did not have a lot of modern fruits and veggies from around the world. PIDW? Aside from a few things ones cause Airplane was a hack writer, mostly the same! But you know what PIDW does have? Lots of weird demons and animals and spirit beasts and flowers. The next time SY looks at a cookbook he will see little (???) next to the stuff he doesn't recognize. But also! There was this one recipes he wanted to make, and he had everything except for ONE thing to make it, and it has a (Inferno-Harpy-Vulture Egg) next to it. So! It shows him stuff he can SUBSTITUTE! Provided... he knows the name of the plant or animal already....

SY had always had a passion for the weird beasts and creatures he sometimes saw, but no reason to act on learning more since he was so busy.... but with this he can totally indulge! AND it will help him with his goal! Double win!

At some point in all his fumbling, he makes better connections with the Future Peak Lords, gets a reputation as being very reliable and kind (if a bit danger prone and sharp tongued at times), and is earning the attention of his buff Shizen. After getting a lot of T-Points, he manages to uncover some of the more expensive Memories....

Which warn him of a cruel villain named Shen Quinqui. An abusive man who was just the worst! Basically, all the stuff SY thought he knew about him in SV. AND the guy was gunna cause the world to end or something? UGH! Why didn't anyone DO anything about that guy in the future? :( The System says he's not allowed to tell anyone, but if he keeps working, maybe he can change Fate! Now, you're probably like 16 paragraphs into this and like 'okay, this is all super cool and you're really smart. but where is SJ at???' Well, he is HERE!

See, while SY had been to Qing Jing Peak multiple times, he's never actually got a Quest to meet anyone from there which is super weird! But he's called over there to act as a chef for a few weeks because one of the guys who usually does it is on some mission. He decides to scout out the Peak while he's there and see if he can find anyone named 'Shen' who might be the evil guy in the future.... [Mission: Meet Xiao Jiu] suddenly pops up from the System! And SY tries VERY HARD to do so! Every day he goes to work at QJ, he never meets anyone he doesn't already know. Sometimes, he hears rumors about a new kid who the Peak Lord took in and the rumors sound NASTY about him. He's only 15 (just a bit younger than SY by like a season or two!) and the guy is said to have murdered people, slept with prostitutes, perved on the girl's in their dorm there, (probably) was actually a real demon.... and was just a huge asshole. But, eventually, SY does end up meeting this mystery Xiao Jiu! He's done in the kitchen for the night and finished cleaning with the other cooks when he remembers he left something there. Going back, he finds this real skinny and lanky guy in the kitchen picking through whatever was leftover in there (not much). He's real cagey and looks ready to beat the hell out of SY for coming in there; but also like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't do. They sort of stare at each other a bit before SY hesitantly introduces himself and the guy basically runs off through the back. Rude! [Mission Complete: Meet Xiao Jiu] [Mission: Befriend Xiao Jiu]

The guy didn't even SAY anything, though! And he seemed like he wanted to beat him up! System, that doesn't seem FAIR! But... SY really wants those T Points for more future memories to try and stop whatever bad stuff is going to happen in the future, so...

Just trying to find Xiao Jiu ends up being a huge problem in of itself! This is a whole Peak and SY is mostly just here to act as a chef for a few hours in the evening. The guy never comes in and gets food, either! Does he only eat the stuff that's left in the kitchen after? But they always clean up really thoroughly so there isn't much left... and he had looked really skinny....

SY starts staying over past everyone else and leaving some extra buns and stuff he saves from dinner on the counter. Except, he gets in trouble after a day or two because the Morning Chefs had come in to find the food left there all night. Was the guy not taking it?

Eventually, he gets the idea to leave the food but... hide it. For some reason it reminds him of hiding a treat from a cat to make it want the treat more. It... sort of works? Usually only one of the buns is missing instead of the multiple he hides. But! Hey! At least the guy got some food!

Things go on like this for a while, until one night when he's heading back to his Peak, he gets sideline kicked into a dense copse of bamboo along the path. And the guy is standing over him with a sword (not a Spiritual one, but still really sharp!) at his throat. And demanding to know what SY is trying to do by leaving him food.... AAAAND I think this is long enough. For NOW. I'll write more on it when I have some time!!! My big wants is basically Feral Angry Cat SJ being slowly socialized to like the one (1) guy who keeps feeding him. They're gunna be BESTIES! (And SY just TOTALLY doesn't feel weird about thinking his best bro is pretty! That's, like super normal!)

I'm sort of half vomiting all my ideas out of my brain but also half writing a bit of a rough outline for a future fic i want to write. If this inspires you in some way, though, feel free to write stuff! Just tag me! I WANNA SEE!!!! >:)

If you have any questions or anything feel free to reach out! I wanna expand more on the Cookbook and the Food Quest and like, how SY would befriend the other Future Peak Lords. Plus, I have a really evil idea for the System to try and force the plot back on the rails later on hehe.

Ty for reading my rambling ilu <3

[sirfrogsworth]

Clinging to sanity

Summary of this post...

My brain is broken. My A/C is broken. My phone is broken. My computer is broken. My support system is broken. My financial stability is broken. My family is broken.

And the big finale...

Please give Froggie a Yelp review to repair his relationship with his estranged uncles.

Seriously, I need a whole bunch of you to say nice things about me in a convoluted plan to get back the money my brother stole from my dying father.

If you don't feel like reading all of my broken stuff and just want to read about giving me a good review as a person, you can skip to the bullet point list at the end.

Alright, here we go...

I sometimes get in these states where I feel like my sanity is compromised. My mental defenses are minimal and I lose the filter on my brain that tells me "this is a good idea" or "this is a bad idea."

This causes me to say embarrassing things. I overshare with strangers. I keep myself from falling asleep because I have some amazing idea. But when I wake up in the morning I can't believe I lost all of that sleep for such a ridiculous idea. I write weird posts that no one likes. Or I post about controversial subjects like A.I. and trans people and RFK Jr. that I *know* will result in contentious feedback.

And my insane brain says, "You can handle it! Besides, you are so factually correct about this, no one will dare question your meticulous research. IT'S ALL GOOD! SEND IT, YOLO!"

I have a rule. If I am not emotionally or mentally prepared to defend my point of view on a controversial subject, I should wait until I am ready to publish.

Insane Froggie Brain ignores this rule.

After I "send it" and the negative feedback starts to flow in (even though I was assured by my brain it wouldn't), I become afraid to look at messages and replies and reblogs. And a lot of times I need that sense of community. I need to talk to my cool little community so I don't feel lonely. But Insane Froggie Brain cuts me off from that. I give myself all of this anxiety that could have been avoided by just posting another time.

And because I have no emotional defenses, that anxiety is amplified. Mean comments hurt much more. I obsess over them and my OCD causes thought feedback loops where I cannot get something out of my brain. I once couldn't sleep for a weekend because someone said I was wrong about how light reflects off the moon. They were right and I was also right but they said I was "misleading." And that just lived in my brain for days. I kept trying to think of new ways to better explain my point of view. I used up energy I didn't really have to take pictures of a baseball in a dark closet.

It was silly. It didn't matter. It was just a small disagreement. But OCD doesn't do small. OCD makes everything BIG.

What I'm trying to say is...

People need their emotional defenses.

People need their filters.

It's weird because I still have full access to my logical brain. So sane thoughts get all mixed in with the less sane ones. Sometimes I am self aware and can shut down the less sane ideas. Other times I am oblivious. And I *hate* losing control of my brain in any way. It's one of the reasons I've never touched alcohol. Which is why I get very disturbed when this happens.

I remember one time I was positive I was going to move to Florida and start a pet photography business. I had an entire business plan worked out where I trained people how to take the photos so the business could run itself if I got sick. I made an entire PowerPoint presentation to show Katrina so she would be my business partner. I was looking up rent prices for office space. I was making equipment lists for camera gear. She was going on a trip so she told me I could talk to her about it when she returned. And I am so lucky she wasn't available at the time.

Maybe if I had a normal person's energy, I could make something like that work. But once I returned to sanity, I realized it was orders of magnitude more complicated than anything I was actually capable of doing. I am still planning to do pet photography, but I have to come up with a more reasonable plan that does not involve Insane Froggie Brain.

I think it is just my ambitious mind trying to escape. Chronic illness is often heartbreaking because you have to temper all of your ambitions. And it is especially devastating when you are a very ambitious person, as I am.

I want to have all of these big ideas. But I have to filter them through reality. And when that filter is broken, I just unleash big ideas on all my friends. I once even held an official video chat meeting and we took notes and made plans. And I feel so guilty I wasted 4 people's time like that. None of those ideas happened. They had no chance of happening with my energy levels. But my friends and collaborators still did the meeting and nodded along like everything was fine. I appreciate them humoring me.

I also overshare. I overshare normally, but when I get like this I OVER SHARE. You are probably going to witness it in this very post. But I tell everyone everything about what is going on. I tell strangers. I tell a dog walking by.

"Hey doggie, my testosterone is returning and I'm struggling with having a libido again. I know most people would not complain, but it is very disruptive to my day! I have other things I want to do!"

Right now I am just not confident in anything I think or do. I wrote a post about social constructs yesterday. That literally took me all day to write. I was endlessly tweaking it and I thought it was going to be viral and helpful and win the trans debate for everyone.

It currently has 49 notes.

I'm afraid I did not fix trans rights.

Sorry about that.

And my rant about Christopher Nolan using IMAX is doing pretty well. I nerded out about film grain for like 2 paragraphs and it is getting way more notes than a philosophical perspective on constructs.

I just have no idea what people are going to like and I used to be pretty good at judging that. It's like I'm throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks but instead of a wall I'm throwing it into the void. The spaghetti just disappears into infinite darkness.

I'm clearly still recovering from the big house clean with Katrina. And I am more tired than normal. But I am also very stressed about losing the house. I'm trying to figure it out, but I may only have until the end of June before I have to make some scary decisions.

And also, my air conditioner is not working. It has a leaky evaporator. Last year, I had it recharged and that lasted the entire summer. If the leak is leaking at the same rate, I could just do that again. It would be expensive, but replacing the evaporator is so costly, I'd be better off getting a heat pump installed. I'm a good candidate, it could save me money in the long run, but I am nowhere near in a position to make that happen.

Also, my phone is falling apart.

Literally. The only thing keeping it together is the phone case.

And this laptop, which I love, was not meant to be my main computer. I bought it when my dad was sick and I needed something upstairs to manage his prescriptions and bills and appointments. It wasn't meant to be an image editing machine. And, to their credit, Apple has made a crazy powerful little computer. I admit it, I love an Apple product. It can handle way more than expected. But my photo restorations can sometimes end up with 5 gigabyte files. I can't even save them as PSDs. I have to use this weird "PSB" format. It stands for "Photoshop Big." When I fill up the RAM, my computer uses the main SSD. And when I fill that up, I think I can hear the laptop crying and saying, "I wasn't meant for this! Please use fewer layers!"

But I need to finish restoring these photos because I have delayed their completion by about 5 months (got sick before I could finish). And also because I need to pay for the A/C recharge.

You might be thinking, "Didn't you fundraise to get the big fancy powerful computer of your dreams a few years ago? Why don't you use that?"

My big fancy computer has been broken almost since I got it.

It was right before my mom got really sick and there is a major hardware problem. I worked with tech support for over a month and we could not figure out what the issue was. The computer is mostly unusable. Like, "can't even web browse" unusable.

It honestly has caused me so much depression. Like deep, deep, crying-myself-to-sleep-for-weeks depression. I still cry about it. I know it is just a thing, but I am genuinely heartbroken about it.

Why haven't I fixed it? I'm a good computer fixer, right?

Once I had to take care of my parents, I just did not have any extra energy to deal with it. After a month of back-and-forth emails from the manufacturer, I finally told them, "I'm sorry, my parents are sick. I will email you when I have the energy to revisit this."

If you know my story and how I took care of my parents all alone because I have a neglectful brother, then you can probably guess that energy never came.

I am good at tech support. I have been an expert in computers since I was a teenager. I have taken apart and built computers more times than I can count. I have never had a problem this frustrating before. It works fine for a few hours, and then it just progressively slows down to being unusable. I narrowed the issue to either the SSD, the CPU, or the motherboard. All things that are not easy to replace. (The SSD is behind the damn GPU.)

In the 30s, the Royal Air Force used to have issues with their planes that baffled them. This is where the term "gremlin" came from. No matter what they did, no matter how many parts they replaced, they could not get the "gremlin" out of the plane. These were professional mechanics who just could not fix something and it drove them nuts.

I have a computer gremlin. I've never experienced anything like it in all of my years of fixing computers. I was working with professional tech support people. I was on reddit forums. And the only thing left to do was start swapping out parts. I'd work on it maybe an hour each day with whatever energy I had and it eventually was too much. I just could not deal with it. They told me to send it back, but I could not take care of my parents without any access to a computer. So I just rebooted it every time I used it.

At that point, my parents were requiring 24/7 care and I was so overwhelmed that I said, "fuck it" and ordered this laptop. I figured I'd fix the computer when I had time or energy. But that time and energy never came. And I certainly didn't have the energy to haul a 60 pound computer upstairs, box it up, and then take it to UPS. So I just kept putting it off and putting it off.

And I let the warranty expire.

When I realized I did that, I cried myself to sleep for another few weeks. This material object has caused me legitimate emotional trauma.

Any part replacements are now on me. And there isn't really any way of knowing which part is faulty. I figured I'd buy a cheap SSD and start there.

I feel so fucking guilty because people donated money for me to have that machine. I feel like I let them all down by not getting it fixed. When I finish my recovery, I'm hoping I can sort it out. But that could be many months from now.

Recovery has been such a dark, lonely place. Trying to restore my health a millimeter at a time is a grueling marathon of misery. I have been struggling to keep Insane Froggie Brain at bay this entire time.

I felt like I was stuck in a hole.

And like a superhero with the power of friendship and puns, Katrina pulled me out of the giant hole I was in. My house turned into a biohazard. She flew from Florida to essentially clean and organize everything. How do you even begin to thank someone for that?

But also, she shouldn't have had to do that. I have a perfectly functional brother. But he hasn't spoken to me for nearly a year now.

I have other family in town. But I missed so many family gatherings over the years, they don't really know me. None of them have called. I'd have to rebuild those relationships if I want them to be a part of my life again.

And I haven't talked about this yet because it has been too painful.

But... my support system fell apart.

My aunt had to move away to take care of her father-in-law. A year before my mom passed she took care of my grandma as her end-of-life caregiver. And people should only have to do that once. But she has to do it again, and unfortunately, we haven't been able to speak much.

We were very good at keeping in touch in real life. But she is of an older generation and has trouble maintaining relationships on a smartphone. I mean, I get it. Some people are just better at meatspace than cyberspace. That was actually one of the things I liked about our bond. Almost all of my friendships are online. Having someone who liked to visit me and talk to me in person was special.

But, for the time being, I lost that. And it feels a bit like temporarily losing another parent.

I am struggling to even start writing the words for this next part.

I had two best friends. Katrina and I are great. Our friendship is probably better than it has ever been.

But my other best friend of nearly 15 years ghosted me without explanation.

I haven't talked about it because it has been too hard. Any time I try to think about it I get upset. My eyes are filling up with tears as I type this.

I have been pretending like it isn't happening.

Which is not working great.

I've been trying to hire a therapist.

They all have months-long waiting lists.

My friend just stopped talking to me and I don't know why.

They went from driving across the country and holding my hand at my dad's funeral to just not being a part of my life.

I'm so scared I said something terrible or did something terrible. I keep going through all of my memories trying to figure out what I could have done. But we had the kind of friendship where we'd talk about that stuff. If I screw up, they would tell me. We'd work it out.

This person who was in my life nearly every week for over a decade is just not there anymore. I keep losing people and I can't make it stop. And I am really worried that I am leaning on Katrina too much. She went from being part of a multifaceted support system to my entire support system. That isn't fair to her.

She has been very understanding. And she knows I am going to rebuild a support system as soon as I am able. But I don't want to overwhelm her and lose her too.

Weaning off this medication and living with no testosterone has been so miserable and she has been the only one helping me through it.

I'm doing so well with my recovery. I think I can be off the meds in 3 months and hopefully my testosterone will be fully back in range. I'm already more productive than I have been in nearly 8 months.

But I have 1 month of financial runway left and I am not going to get well enough before then.

Everything happens all at once. Every single time. And usually terrible things happen in my life at the same time terrible things happen in Katrina's life. She had terrible mold that destroyed her health for months. Thankfully it did not turn her transphobic, but it sure fucked her health for a while. She made all of this progress getting fit and healthy and BAM, the universe says, "You are doing too well, you need a challenge!"

So, what is my plan?

I am a problem solver and I have some doozies to solve.

Right now I am going to appeal to the family patriarchs on my dad's side. On his literal deathbed, my dad asked his brothers to "take care of me" and I am going to attempt to call in that favor.

I am going to ask them to talk to my brother and hopefully mediate a solution regarding the stolen inheritance. I want them to convince my brother to do the right thing and return the money he took from my dad.

Sorry, the money he "legally inherited" due to his wife "reinterpreting my dad's wishes" in the will.

Before you ask, I have no options to fight this in court. A verbal promise is not enough to overturn a written will. And the cost of fighting would be more than the inheritance. Please don't suggest any legal advice. I've talked to good lawyers. And unless I want to sue for emotional distress, there aren't any legal options available.

The best option is to appeal to my brother personally and ask him to keep his promise to my dad.

The only reason I am in this mess is because my brother repeatedly promised to give me the money. He said he didn't want it on multiple occasions. So all of my plans involved the expectation of this money. I was going to fix up the basement apartment and seek a roommate.

But it took over a year to just get it out of probate. A year I could have used to come up with other solutions. But he waited until the last minute and made his lawyer tell me he was screwing me.

I'm sure my brother will argue my dad knew what he was signing. But I know that is impossible. Before my dad passed, we were in the hospital and I saw the will for the first time. I asked him if it reflected his wishes. And I asked him if he meant to include my brother's wife in the will.

His response was, "Are you fucking kidding me???"

Readers, does that sound like a man that knew what was in his will?

Dad was so upset that he was about to have them cut off his leg just so he could live a few more weeks and fix the will.

You have to give my dad credit, he goes pretty hardcore when it comes to protecting his family.

I couldn't let him go through an amputation to protect me from my brother's shenanigans.

But I am pretty screwed now.

That said, my uncles are pretty hardcore too. One is *very* intimidating. So I feel like my uncles talking to my brother might carry some weight.

But I have one problem...

I mean, aside from the myriad problems already described.

How about... I have one additional problem...

My uncles don't like me very much.

They think I am a basement-dwelling loser who is faking his illness and was taking advantage of his parents for two decades.

One uncle even accused me of stealing from my dad.

They are protective of their brother. They loved my dad. Which is a good thing! As long as I can convince them that their assumptions about me are invalid, I think their love for my dad will compel them to help me.

They just don't have the context. They don't know me. They live in far-off lands. And due to some unfortunate timing, one uncle saw me at one of the lowest points of my life. This was maybe 8 years ago? He didn't realize I was thrown into the deep end and very recently took on the role as full-time caregiver for two very sick people.

My awful strategy at the time was "if I don't take care of myself, I'll have more energy to take care of my parents." If you are a caregiver, this is a bad strategy. It seems obvious you have to do some self care to give care to others, but when you are just starting out, that seems impossible.

My uncle showed up unannounced and I wasn't showered, I hadn't brushed my teeth in a week, and my room had a fun layer of trash on the floor. The trash can was overflowing and I literally did not have the spare energy to change the bag.

To make matters worse, my mom's medications and constant pain had broken the filter in her brain that prevents her from saying mean things. She was on this crazy chemo-like infusion that was basically using poison to fight her psoriatic arthritis. Her aggressive, blunt remarks were not her fault. That wasn't who she was. But she could not stop herself from saying hurtful things.

The kindest woman alive was suddenly Don Rickles without the "just kidding" subtext. And my uncle didn't know this and I got into an argument with my mom.

I probably looked like a pampered brat loser who just lies in bed and plays video games all day while arguing with his saint of a mother.

I don't blame him. Without context, that's exactly what it looked like.

So I am writing my uncles a letter.

It is essentially a memoir of the caregiving I gave to my parents. I hope to publish it publicly at some point, but right now it is just a letter to them. If it were a typical hardcover book, it would be about 70 pages long.

I am telling them everything.

If nothing else, I just need them to know my dad's story. I need them to know he was well taken care of. That I did everything humanly possible to make his last year as comfortable as I could. I need them to know he was *never* alone.

Sadly, because they probably think I am an unreliable narrator, I am my own worst witness. So I am asking 3 people in my current support system to write testimony to verify everything in my memoir is accurate. I even have a doctor's note!

It is probably insane to put this much effort into convincing my uncles to like me. But I'm pretty sure Sane Froggie Brain is behind the wheel of this endeavor. Sometimes the craziest, most desperate idea is the only option left.

Basically I am using my writing skills to try and save my Froggie butt.

I don't mean to be braggadocious, but people perusing my prose persistently pontificate that I am proficient at penning pleasing passages.

People say I write good sometimes.

And I think this memoir letter thingie is the best thing I've ever written. So I am hopeful I will deflate these dubious assumptions and tug on my uncles' heartstrings.

But there is something you all can do to help me.

A friend on tumblr is helping me edit this memoir monstrosity. And she gave me her testimonial to add to my 3 witnesses.

"I have been following The Frogman for well over a decade on his website. It was years before I learned his name was Benjamin! We all just call him Froggy. He was (and still is) one of the funniest internet guys out there. He is incredibly skilled at putting together humorous GIFs and photo sets, and his comedic writing is second to none. He regularly goes viral. Along with that, he was open and vulnerable about the toll CFS takes on him. I can attest to many folks over the years telling him that he has helped them as they dealt with their own health issues. He is so knowledgeable about so much--his posts are famous for being long, detailed, and wildly informative. And most of all, entertaining. They are a joy to read. We also followed along on his heartbreaking journey with his parents. He shared so much of them with us over the years that they felt like people we knew. It was so clear, from his long absences, how much he was doing for them. Our hearts broke when he told us his parents were no longer with us. Froggy has fans, and so did his parents. Otis, too. We love and support him and will always wish him the best."

It made me cry.

But it also felt like getting a Yelp review on... my entire deal.

And it gave me an idea.

What if I had a bunch of these as optional testimony for my uncles?

I'm not going to force them to read what a bunch of internet strangers have to say. But it could be a compelling way to prove my website antics were a serious attempt to build a livelihood for myself. My uncles were successful businessmen and respect a strong work ethic and trying to make your own way.

I was too early for monetization options like Patreon, TikTok, YouTube, and Twitch, but I ran a very successful comedy blog. If I had my 2013 success in the 2020s, I probably would've been able to retire and live off that for the rest of my life. I have several original GIFs that were downloaded tens of millions of times. Google said one of them was searched for over 100,000,000 times.

My blog was silly, but I took it seriously and I had sponsors and merch and an Otis plush.

They think what I did was like when you are at the family Christmas gathering and you ask your weird cousin what he's been up to and he says, "I run a blog about corgis from my parents' basement."

How do I relate the impact I had? They don't know what "Know Your Meme" is. They don't know what being on the front page of Reddit means. They don't know the amazing community I built. They don't know that I created one of the largest and most generous online support systems one could possibly have. I'm still alive and trying to make a life for myself because all of you continue to love and support me.

I was successful and I worked hard despite my disability.

I just had bad timing with the financial aspect of that success.

So, if you want to leave a Yelp review of The Frogman for my uncles, I'd appreciate it.

I came up with a list of things I need to prove to them. I'm just going to copy/paste the entire thing here. I'll strikethrough the ones you all probably can't speak to.

I am not a basement dwelling loser.

My website was more than a silly hobby.

I did not mooch off my parents for 20+ years.

I did not steal from my parents.

I am not the crazed, awkward mess [my uncle] witnessed.

I am disabled.

I cannot get a job.

I am a good person.

I am a likable person.

I was a good son.

I took good care of my parents.

My parents would not have been better off in a nursing home.

My parents would not have been better off moving closer to my brother.

My brother and his wife neglected and emotionally abused Mom & Dad.

My brother and his wife changed the will to benefit them against my mom & dad’s wishes.

My brother promised repeatedly the will was a mistake and I would receive the full amount.

I did not take care of my parents to “retain the house” or get money.

So, if you want to attempt to convince two elderly conservative Catholic men that my cat memes were lit, I would appreciate the help.

If you’ve been part of this community, and you’ve ever felt like I made you laugh, cry, or feel understood, a short 'review' of me as a person could mean the world.

Just remember your audience is...

Uncle #1: A stoic, but brilliant 80 year old who writes text messages like they are business emails. Complete with "Dear Ben" and "Regards, Your Uncle". He is still very sharp-minded and lucid. He thinks success is a high paying job, a house, and a family (my brother). He does not like weakness and consistently thought I should "be an adult and get a job." He is very loyal and respected my dad very much.

Uncle #2: A 60-something retired grandpa who thinks his constant dad jokes are genuinely funny. He is empathetic, but secretly judgmental. He will act like your best friend even if he doesn't care for you. He is an amazing grandpa. Very involved with his kids and their kids. He keeps every video of them getting a goal in sportsball on his phone. He will help you if you think you deserve to be helped. He is very close with Uncle #1.

So... kinda running the gamut there.

You can reblog this post or leave a reply or send a private message or email me at frogman54@gmail.com

I will be anonymizing your names for obvious reasons.

I fear my uncles might not understand why Tumblr user "PokemonAssBlaster69" is saying nice things about me.

Explaining "The Frogman" is hard enough.

Anyway, thank you in advance.

[fourmoony]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝟐

f!reader x PT!Jamie (modern au) 1.5k words

summary: reader has a bad gym experience and jamie gets protective

cw: working out, mention of potential injury, mentions of sexual harrassment (ass grabbing)

sidenote, that I've seen a lot of this behaviour in the gym before and it makes me sick. writing about it and imagining how jamie would handle it makes me less sick. imagining big strong pt!james making the world better, one set of keys at a time. please, always be aware of your surroundings if you are working out at the gym, especially alone <3

James pulls you out from under the bar of the smith machine by the hips seconds before it clatters to the ground with a sickening thud and clang of metal. You stumble under his harsh hands, land on the ground at his feet and let out a pained whoosh of breath. Luckily, the gym is empty save for the two of you, sparing you the embarrassment of having people watch the commotion.

He's on you in an instant, gentle hands that cradle your neck as he crouches in front of you and pushes your head from side to side with a little pressure from his thumbs. All you can do is blink, try to process what, exactly, just happened. "You're not sore here?" James asks you, brows furrowed and almost touching in the middle, his fingers pressing into the base of your neck.

Your first thought is that James doesn't suit frowning. A silly thought, considering you almost decapitated yourself with a one hundred kilogram squat rack. "No. Just my ass from crash landing." You don't fail to notice the way your voice sounds distant, detached.

James' hands are warm on your neck, a burning touch that you want to lean into. You don't, and it's gone as James collapses down across from you, his elbows resting against his knees. His face turns stern, "What's going on?"

You feel like you're being scolded, and maybe you should be. It's a well known fact that form is everything, that being distracted in the gym can lead to serious injuries. You'd known you wouldn't be able to focus today, you'd known you should've stopped that set and corrected yourself when you could feel the weight more in your back than your legs. But, you hadn't. You're distracted, you're angry. You'd walked into the gym full of frustration and it'd almost ended terribly.

Tears fight their way to your eyes and they burn. You feel a lump forming in your throat that forces you to look away from James. Kind, patient James, who allows you the moment to collect yourself as you pull your legs to your chest. "Shitty week." It comes out mumbled, your voice defeated.

James nods understandingly. "A shitty week doesn't make you lose focus like that, though. There's something more to it."

It's not like James to push. He's friendly and he's kind, he can be a menace when he wants to be, and sometimes you even think he's flirting with you - but he never pushes. You want to open up, you want to step out of that weird area of professionalism you can never seem to get past with him. But unloading your shitty week on him doesn't feel like the way to do that. So you shrug, pulling your knees to your chest until your chin rests atop them, "I'm just stressed. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I knew my form was wrong but I was too distracted to stop and fix it."

"I don't care that your form was wrong," James shakes his head as though offended you'd think such a thing, "I mean," He pauses, searching for the words, "Obviously, I care that it was wrong because you almost got hurt. But what I mean is that you should've told me you were stressed, that you were feeling a bit distracted."

You find yourself nodding, eyes downcast at your crossed ankles.

"I was waiting for you to correct the form yourself. If I knew you were distracted, I'd have told you to stop. I'm sorry, too." James' voice has turned soft, less stern. He nudges his foot until it's in your line of vision, tapping it against yours until you're looking up.

He's waiting with a smile, his eyes gentle and patient. It feels odd. New, foreign. You can't really describe the feeling. "A guy grabbed my ass in the gym, yesterday." You breathe out, unsure really of what it is that's made you tell him.

It could be that you trust him. It's hard not to build trust with someone in James' position, it's literally his job to stop things like one hundred kilogram bar bells falling on top of you. Or, it could be that not telling anyone, reliving how powerless you'd felt, going over everything you could've done differently, it's eating you alive. Sharing this with James, who sees every day what gyms are like, how people in some gyms behave, you have a feeling that he'll get it. That he'll help you process.

But, he doesn't say anything. Just stares with a look that you can't read. The muscles in his arms shift, his hands clenching around each other tightly, and his jaw clenches. You think he might not say anything, though, you know James is better than that. The silence stretches until the tears in your eyes abate, then James finally croaks, "He what?"

Your veins crackle with the anger in his voice, the darkness that clouds his eyes. You'd never have imagined James in such a light if he wasn't sitting right in front of you, the very picture of livid. You shrug, as though feigning nonchalance might abate the white hot anger you know very well the feeling of. "I was doing those stupid kick back thingies you're always on about. Just messing about as a cool down, trying to correct my own form. He came over and started giving me advice, which I thought was just him being nice."

James shakes his head, remorse like a white sheet of dread across his beautiful face. You swallow, picking at a hangnail on your thumb, "He kind of just," You shift your hands as though grabbing your own hips, "Grabbed me like that and my throat went dry. When he was leaving he grabbed my ass and said 'you're welcome'."

"You didn't report him to the gym staff?"

You shake your head, lip trapped between your teeth. "I wasn't even planning on telling you until I nearly killed myself with the smith machine."

James sighs, one of his hands coming up to rub at his face. He looks nauseous, almost. "I'll get you a set of keys for this gym. You can work out here, from now on. No one will bother you."

It's a nice offer. It makes your heart swell and your cheeks heat. James has always gone above and beyond. He fits you into his schedule despite your crazy work hours and never charges you for the session if you have to cancel day of. But the reason you don't have a membership at his gym is because it's not in your price range. So you smile, kind, if a little tight lipped, "James, you know I can't."

"I'm not saying get a membership. I'm saying I'll get you a set of keys. You can come and go as you please, even after work, whatever time you want." His voice is thick, his eyes earnest and almost pleading.

"I can't ask you to do that."

James scoots closer, fingers flexing as though he might reach out for you, but is stopping himself. He chases your gaze, waits until he has it, until your lips part under the weight of it and your heart hammers against your chest, to speak. "You're not asking. I'm offering. I can't believe that happened to you and it makes me so angry. I'm not going to sit by and do nothing about it."

You sigh, unwilling to argue when James sounds so passionate, so sure of himself. A smile makes its way to your lips, timid, unsure, "Thanks, Jamie."

He nods. "Any time."

"Are you sure the owner won't mind?" You ask.

James grins, some of the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes, "He's my best mate, it'll be fine."

He offers you a hand as he stands, the storm clouds passing and the weight already lifting from your chest. It feels brighter, in the gym. You take James' hand, let him pull you up. He does his signature move of tugging you until you're stumbling towards him, his laugh echoing off of the concrete walls when you curse him out for it.

"Start from the beginning?" James asks, moving to return the smith machine to where you need it to be.

You take a breath, watch the way his shoulder muscles strain against his top as he bends and lifts. It brings a smile to your lips, the feeling of familiarity you hadn't felt upon entering the gym earlier. "I believe I was at five reps when I dropped the bar."

James tsks, "Dropping it doesn't count as a rep. Call it four."

"Cruel."

James only winks, offers you his award winning smile as you settle yourself under the bar. This time, with the correct form. He nods, and you twist to unlock, eyes on his in the mirror.

"That's one." He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.

You consider dropping the bar on his head, next.

[luveline]

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 

"Something looks wrong." 

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 

"Gabs?" he asks. 

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 

"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 

"Hm?" you hum in question. 

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?" 

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 

"Yeah, he did." 

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 

"She's in her room. Call her." 

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 

"Woah, careful." 

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 

"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing." 

"The thing?" 

You frown. 

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 

"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 

"For what?" You blink. 

"I don't know." 

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 

"You're really something special," he says quietly. 

"How so?" 

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  

"I must have some good luck," he says. 

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 

It's not a bad kiss. 

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

[newdruid]

Tl;dr: in which Law ignores reader to a point that Bepo believes them to be fighting and because he is inconsolable, Law has no choice but to reveal his real feelings.

A small, fluffy Law x f!reader. No use of reader or y/n. I may rewrite this into something larger, more detailed later on...

You enter Shachi and Penguin's room with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped frown. Both your crewmates quirked a brow at you.

"What's wrong?" Penguin asked. You look up at him as though you only just realized you had entered their room.

"It's the Captain," you begin, "He and I aren't speaking... he's ignoring me, actually. I think maybe I've... done something wrong."

"Like what?"asks Schachi, shifting himself to face you better and coaxing you to sit on his bunk, you take the offer.

"That's the problem. I don't know." You revert into a dead eyed stare with furrowed brows and that tight-lipped frown. "I've been going over every interaction with him from the past three weeks, and I can't think of anything negative."

There's a collective, thoughtful hum from Schachi and Penguin. They couldn't recall anything bad about your daily interactions either. Infact, they thought you and the Captain were close, as you usually made him smile most.

"You're usually the one who gets him to loosen up..." Penguin pondered aloud.

"Yeah, and you guys are always spending time together because he always takes you with him if he gets off the Sub." Added Schachi.

As they finished speaking, Bepo walked into view of the open door to the boys' room.

"Oh, what are you guys talking about?" The innocent polar bear mink entered the room slowly.

"Captain's been ignoring our girl," Penguin explained. "She thinks she did something to really piss him off."

Bepo lets out a gasp at the idea of his friends fighting. "Oh no! Captain's upset?"

"Yeah, but we dont know why." Shachi interjected. "But he's been ignoring our girl for days."

"Weeks." You corrected, Bepo gasps.

"That's awful!" Bepo's furry paws went up to cup either side of his face in worry. "Captain ignored me once for a day because I accidentally ate his onigiri, did you eat his onigiri too?!"

"No," You answered, shaking your head. Bepo began to word vomit possible answers for why the captain could be ignoring you. You shook your head at all of them.

"Geesh. Maybe he just hates ya or something." Shachi jested after the long list of rejected plausible answers. Bepo gasps, horrified at the implication.

"Don't say that! What if he DOES? What if he's gonna kick her off the crew?!" And suddenly, the polar bear mink became inconsolable at the idea that his friend may be exiled from his crew.

Penguin and Shachi immediately tried to comfort the bear, to no avail, and you sat their on Penguin's bunk, wondering if Law really would kick you off the crew. Maybe you had done something truly wrong.

As Bepo continued to sob and you were lost in thought, The Heart Pirates' Captain came into view of the door frame.

"What's going on here?" The captain looked as though the four of you had roused him from an intense study session in his office. "Bepo, why are you crying?" Law's brow became firmly set in question as he noticed the Polar Bear's upset.

"Because!!" The navigator wailed. "You're upset, and ignoring my crewmate which means you're going to kick her off the ship!" Law's expression quickly turned to bewilderment as he looked at Shachi and Penguin for further explanation.

"Our girl here came in upset first!" Penguin explained, raising his hands in defense. "She said you'd been ignoring her for weeks, and Bepo got upset 'cause you two aren't getting along."

Law's bewilderment shifted to a mix of realisation and surprise. He held his head in his hand, and behind the wall of his palm, you almost swore you saw his cheeks go ruddy.

"I'm not kicking anyone off the crew Bepo." Mumbled the Captain before he raised his head to look at you. "Can you come to my office, please."

Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo went silent as you followed Law out of the boys' room and back to his office. Law held the door open and closed it behind you upon entering his space. You stood in the middle of his office, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as Law sighed and leaned against the closed door.

"Im sorry," he began, pulling you out of your anxious trance of swaying. "I wasn't... trying to ignore you. I just... needed to think."

You stared with wide eyes, uncertain of what to do or say. You should have realized your captain was just a busy man, trying to do his best.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have assumed you were ignoring me deliberately-"

"I was." Law cuts you off. "I had to ignore you to figure myself out. Im sorry." You looked at Law with calculatory eyes, and for the first time since you've joined his crusade, he shied away from your gaze. "I... had to figure out what you mean to me. And I couldn't do it with you so close to me because all you do is make me... uneasy."

"Gee, thanks?"

"No - that's not." Law groans at his own verbiage. Suddenly Law's regular confidence is back and he straightens, looking you in the eyes. "The regular resting heart rate for a man my age and stature is 60 to 100 beats per minute... whenever you're in the room, my resting heart rate shoots to 125. I get warm. I can't always focus. I thought you were making me sick."

At this point, you're still confused. No one wants to hear they make their captain nervous, but you can't understand why you would make the Surgeon of Death feel like this. What he says next staples your jaw to the floor.

"I like you." Law declares, "as more than my crewmate."

"What?"

"Please don't make me say it again."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Surprises 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, cheating/established relationships, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Andy Barber, side of Mike Weiss

Summary: You have a baby on the way but it’s not the only surprise.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You cup your ear as your voice echoes in the stairwell, "no, Mike, today, not tomorrow."

The sigh rolls through you. The one that says I have more important things going on. What's more important that his child? Both of your child? You frown.

"You said the 14th," he snips.

"No, 13th," you insist. "I wrote it on the calendar."

"Babe, you know I got a lot going on. This deposition could be it," he says.

You shrink down. It's always how it goes. He always has something more important. He's always restless. Always busy. Even too busy to put the condom on right.

"I'll find a way there," you mutter. "Good luck with the deposition."

"Babe--"

You hang up. Your eyes sting. You turn and nearly throw your phone at the unexpected figure. It's the last person you expect.

"Mr. Barber," you put your hand on your stomach instinctively. His eyes follow the movement. "I didn't hear you."

"Sorry, I-- the elevator's under maintenance for the hour. I was just..." he points past you.

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry," you move aside, even though the stairs are wide. "I was just... getting back to work."

"Right," he accepts with a sliver of doubt. "So, he must be excited."

"Who?" You ask as he comes parallel to you.

"The father," he suggests.

Your sole slips and you scuff up onto the next level. He catches your elbow. You giggle as your heart flutters.

"Woop," you gasp.

"You alright?" He asks, keeping his hand on you.

"Oh, Mr. Barber, I'm fine, really. I'm clumsy, is all."

"Yeah, but if you fell..." he drags his hand down your sleeve and lets you go.

"Yeah, well..." you shrug and look away. Would Mike even care? You hate to think of what could go wrong but you're already doing it all alone.

"Well, what?" He wonders.

"Nothing, nothing, I just... lots to think about," you make yourself chipper.

"It's not easy. I remember. Laurie was in the hospital back and forth. Every little thing she was sure was this, that, or the other. She was fine, just nervous," he says.

"Right, I... just got an ultrasound," you explain.

"That's fun. He picking you up then? What time?"

"Noon. I'll be done. Think I have some bus tickets left--"

"Bus tickets?" Barber clucks. "You can't-- you're telling me your husband's gonna make you go all by yourself."

"Well, he might meet me there," you lie. You're embarrassed. You said too much.

He opens the door for you and you go through. He sighs as it falls shut behind him, "I'll drive you."

"Mr. Barber?" You look at him, "you can't--"

"I don't have much on the docket, I can do it."

"No, I couldn't-- no way."

"I couldn't imagine if it was my wife or my child. You shouldn't have to go all that way by yourself." He insists. "It's no bother."

"But... it is to me, sir."

"You gotta take care of yourself, your baby, but more importantly, he should be doing the same," he shakes his head.

"That's so... nice, but..."

"I've made up my mind." He says. "Come get me when you're ready, alright?"

"Mr. Barber--"

"Andy," he corrects you. "And sweetie, you make sure you take some breaks. Sit down when you can."

You smile at him. He's so nice. Still, you hate that this pregnancy makes you feel so useless. Mike wouldn't disagree. You're too tired to wake up when he is home. You hear him in the bathroom getting what he needs.

"I will, thank you." You sway slightly, "you know, you don't have to worry about me. I'm just the cleaner."

"Just the cleaner? Don't sell yourself short," he touches your shoulder then backs up. "Just give me a knock, okay?"

He turns and marches off. You watch him. You feel small. He has everything figured out. Not like you. Or Mike.

🍼

It's nerve-wracking just approaching Mr. Barber's door. Usually, it wouldn't affect you. You'd be doing your job. He offered but you still feel as if you're asking a favour.

He opens it, already in his jacket, ready. You hope he wasn't waiting, or even, distracted, by you. You smile sheepishly as your coat swishes with your nervous fidgeting.

"All good?" He asks. You nod.

"Thanks again, Mr. Barber," you say.

"It's Andy and really, it's no problem."

He waves you ahead of him. The elevator is back in service, to the relief of your hips and feet. The ride down makes you dizzy. You come out into the lobby and wring the strap of your bag.

"Nervous?" He asks as he holds the door for you.

"A little. It'll be okay but... I wasn't planning on a baby, you know?"

He follows you out into the damp grey. He points you to the parking lot and directs you around to his white SUV. It's a nice car. Mike just has his beat up Pontiac.

Again, Andy opens the door. He holds your elbow as you haul yourself up. You thank him and reach for the seat belt. He closes the door and goes around the other side.

He turns the engine and glances at you, "what about the dad? Is he ready?"

You stare through the windshield. You don't know but you don't want to admit it out loud.

"He's a lawyer too," you deflect. He's working a really important case right now."

"Ah," he pulls out of the spot, "tough when you're starting out. And a baby won't make it easier. Trust me, I know."

"Yeah, but we'll make it work," your words peak with your anxiety. "It's early."

"Goes fast," he says. "Before you know it, you'll be ready to pop."

You laugh thinly. You're in dread of that. You put your hands on your stomach.

"I could tell because your face. You're glowing," he explains. "Laurie had the one. C-section. Didn't wanna do it again."

"Yeah I'm... just focusing on this one."

"I wanted a girl," he says. "Got Jacob. Good kid. What about you? Girl? Boy?"

"I'll take either. I just hope they have Mike's eyes," you chime.

He smiles, "he's lucky. The baby too. You're going to be a good mother."

"I really hope," you say and pick at the zipper of your bag. "It'll be nice to have someone new to love."

[jaysgirlx]

Can you do a fic based off of https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcsG8Yu/ this TikTok when Jason and reader was talking and it got deep and he joked about off!ng himself and the reader sits with him all night just in case he wasn’t joking? Please? I love your writing so much and if this is a touchy topic feel free to ignore or correct. Have a nice day!

❝ 𝐈’𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❥ pairing: jason todd x civilian f!reader

❥ summary: Jason and you are close, you always have been so close that you thought you knew him well enough to read his mind except you're wrong about that, and what you learn ends up scaring you more.

❥ warnings: mentions of death/suicide/afterlife, reminiscing of torture, heavy angst, little fluff, happy ending

❥ wc: 1.5k

Your fingers, combed through Jason's black locks while he focused his attention on you. The two of you had moments on these where you sat together in a comfortable silence. They tended to happen when one of you was upset, usually you but tonight you could tell something was wrong with Jason. So you kept quiet and let him rest. You didn't know if late nights like these would last forever.

"How long are you going to play with my hair princess?"

"Until you tell me what's wrong Jay"

Again you both fell into a silence. This time it was awkward like maybe you should've played dumb but it was too late night to think that. Jason sighed and sat up on your couch and laid his head on your lap. You tried to remove your hand from his hair but he gave this look like this is what he needed at least for tonight.

You weren't sure if or when you and Jason had crossed the friend boundary. The two of you obviously had not slept together but you had kissed numerous times. Sometimes when he was anxious you'd kiss him just to calm him down and it worked, except for the fact you'd end up making out. Or when he would go on patrol and you were worried he would kiss you and then he'd end up cuddling you till you slept off. The kisses you both shared were like little reassurances of love. Though the two of you never actually spoke about what they really meant.

You had wanted to for the longest time but you didn't because in the end you always knew that Jason cared for you. You could tell by the way he always left you breakfast when he had to leave while you were asleep or by the way he'd walk you home if you had decided to work overtime. Jason cared in his own little way and you take what you got especially since he made the best pancakes.

"I fought with Bruce today, he took Dick's side on something and I just got mad…I know they both care, but it doesn't feel like it sometimes y'know? It still feels like they're Batman and Nightwing and I'm still Robin" He stopped himself from speaking further like if he spoke more, he'd say something he'd regret. Jason didn't want to drop all his problems on you because he knew you would listen and he knew you'd comfort him. You did so much for him and was slightly worried he was becoming too much. Jason didn't want to become a burden to you, he enjoyed spending time with you and he didn't wan to fuck that up.

"I've always got your side Jay if that helps and you're not Robin anymore okay and regardless of that, Robin didn't make you…well you" you say, caressing his face. "You're just you Jay and if they've got a problem with you well then they have a problem with me"

"Well, I think I hate myself if I'm being honest" Those words made your hands stop and now you started to really listen. You knew Jason wasn't exactly happy with his life but you didn't think he hated himself. He was so cocky all the time that you couldn't even fathom the idea of him hating himself. "These days getting up in the mornings is so difficult and a good night's rest…I don't remember the last time I had one"

"Well I think we all can relate to that, life kinda sucks for all of us Jay. Everything we do is out of our hands and it seems like no matter how hard we try we're never fully just happy"

"You got that right, the last time I was really happy was…well nevermind, But sometimes I think about killing myself"

"Well I mean we all have, I thought about it a couple of times when work gets hard but-

"No y/n, I mean like really killing myself, like just putting my gun to my head and that's it." He laughs but you still don't manage to find it funny. "I know damn well there will be plenty of people who will probably find it pretty, my brains splattered everywhere and my body lifeless"

"I'd really prefer you'd not do that Jay"

"Okay but in all seriousness-"

"I don't want to hear this Jay"

"I'd want you to plan my funeral, you'd make it beautiful and hopefully not gloomy"

"Jay is this a funny matter, stop joking around"

"I doubt there's an afterlife, seeing that I did die once and I don't remember any floating gates or firey pits"

"Jay please stop it"

"C'mon we both know without you, I'd be better off-"

"No." you said and it came out broken. Jason looked up at you, you weren't playing with his hair anymore, you were crying. He tried to reach up and your tears away but you pushed away his hand. He hadn't meant to upset you, he didn't mean it. Well, he did but he wasn't going to, not when you still cared for him. You were what he was living for. "No, you can't do that Jay"

He again tries to wipe your tears and this time you let him, he sits up and kisses your forehead wishing he had never said anything. You were his world and all he could ever ask for. Without you, who would be there for him after a bad run on patrol? or when his nightmares would start coming back? Deep down Jason Todd is scared of living, he's scared of living without you. "I won't sweetheart, I won't, I promise. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of that"

Now he's holding you and rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. The two of you fell back into your comfortable silence, while Jason made himself comfortable again laying his head on your lap. He hates seeing you that way, with that look of fear and worry. He never wanted to cause it. He wanted to say something but all those hours of patrol and working overtime finally caught up to him. He thought he'd just take a nap, he didn't want to burden you with how heavy he was, lying on his lap but he couldn't help you, your lap was so comfy.

For a while, you watched Jason and didn't know why you were. He said he wouldn't hurt himself, he promised. Still, you were scared because of the way he talked about it...it was clear it wasn't the first time. You knew he had fallen asleep, his tell was that his breathing had slowed. You picked that up when he started coming over early in that morning to nap with you. Jason was only ever truly calm when was he asleep with you.

Watching him like this felt natural like you had to do this. You knew he was serious about killing himself and you just couldn't imagine a life with him, without Jason. Gently you caressed his sleeping face, admiring how handsome he was. The things that happened to him, you knew they affected him but you didn't want to think he'd go as far as to…no you couldn't think of it.

You leaned your own body back on the couch and tried to relax. You'd stay all night with him if you had to, you'd make sure he was safe. You weekend a vigilante like him, you couldn't fight and protect him from villains but you could protect him from himself. It probably seems crazy that you want to protect Jason Todd from himself but it's all you know how to do. You're not completely sure if Jason loves you but you know that you love him.

"I will always be with you, I'm yours Jay, I'm with you" you whisper sweetly against his forehead, before planting a soft kiss. You watch him all night and he sleeps quietly and hopefully comfortably with his head resting on your lap. You didn't work the next day and you had stayed up all night before, this wouldn't be difficult for you.

Even if it was, it was for Jason and he was always worth any trouble. You wish you could tell him that but that's a conversation for another time, for now, you just want to make sure he is still alive every morning.

When Jason Todd wakes up the following morning, you're drinking what he thinks is probably coffee and reading a book. His eyes fixate on you and he reaches up to brush his hand against your face, you smile at the soft touch. HE lets out a yawn and finally speaks up, "Whatcha doing up so early, princess?"

"Just admiring you Jay"

"M'sorry for sleeping on you, and I'm even more sorry for making you feel upset last night, you're…you're very important to me y/n, and as long as you'll have me, I'll be here"

"And I'm with you, for as long as you'll have me" you say with a smile as you hand him the rest of your coffee. He drank the rest before gently pressing a kiss to your lips. Another reassure of his love

Jason Todd was yours for a lifetime and you were happy with just that.

❥ a/n: sorry this took so long anon! I kept rewriting it because I didn't like how it was going. btw comment to be added to my taglist.

❥ taglist: @meowkn, @nia-jul, @woodenanemone, @millyhelp, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer, @kazzattack, @orchidsangel