#im on desktop so i need to look them up

[trashbaget]

going to attempt organizing my spotify library, wish me luck folks

[erythristicbones]

deciding that i hate google docs organizational system and while it doesn't actually hinder my writing, it DOES annoy the ever loving shit out of me bc im the type of autistic that makes me want to obsessively sort and organize everything nicely

[yosh-iro]

just realizing my hearing can be summed up as having a fucking nasa computer for hardware but only ever using it to play that vid of a spinning rat with a compressed version of free bird in the background

[wabblebees]

.

[spdrvyn]

TSUNDERE MIGUEL O'HARA THAT IS DENYING HIS FEELINGS FOR READER WHILE HE ACTIVELY THINKS ABOUT THEM 24/7 AND KNOWS ALL THEIR CUTE LITTLE QUIRKS (READER CAN BE SPIDERMAN OR NORMAL PERSON YOUR CHOICE) PLEASE I NEED TRUNDERE MIGUEL SO MUCH IM DYING IM STARVING *sob sob cry sob*

love, your best friend Dre <3

i won't say i'm in love — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( uhhh .... i have no clue who this motherfucker is! jk lol hi tommy [ you slut ] here is your severely in denial miguel fic, spoiler free. ))

"Lyla, arrange this mess."

Miguel waved his hand at the AI, eyes focused on the glowing screen in front of him. He always had the habit of keeping a messy desktop, though it wasn't a big problem for him considering his trusty artificial intelligence assistant.

To which the trusty artificial intelligence would poke and tease Miguel in response. At times, he really wondered if Lyla was secretly being controlled by a human. A pesky, occasionally annoying, childish human that constantly pushed his buttons.

"What's the magic word, Miguel?"

He groaned bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, massaging the stress lines that have formed from constantly being teased and played with.

"...Please."

Lyla lets out an electric hum, her avatar glitching into a thinking pose. She stares at Miguel with a confused look through her heart-shaped sunglasses. "Sorry. The signal in here is so bad. What was that?"

"I said, please, Lyla. Get to work."

"Oh, don't worry. I heard you the first time."

The man lets out a defeated sigh, he's given up on trying to defend himself against Lyla. Even when he's old and withered, this charade will continue like a never-ending circus show.

Multiple screens pop up in front of the AI, to which Miguel bashfully averts his gaze. He's normally organized enough, in the workplace but he's also very busy. Little things like putting files in the folders they belong simply evades his mind sometimes.

However, one file in particular stood out in front of him from the corner of his eye. It was a drive, among all the others that are colored in the regular shade of blue and labeled accordingly, this one was highlighted in pink with a little heart symbol at the end.

"Lyla, what's that?"

Her avatar glitches again into her in a sitting position, a little teacup in her hands as she takes a fake sip. "Hmm? I don't know, I don't see anything. Which one are you talking about?"

"Ay dios mío... The one in pink, Lyla. What is it?"

"Ohhh..." An obviously fake display of surprise makes itself present on Lyla's face, she opens the file. "This is a drive of all of the times you talked about that recruit. Lovingly, might I add."

Miguel's eyes darted around the screen, folding his arms over his chest. There were many, many videos of him. The scroll bar just kept going like there was no end.

Hesitantly, he pointed to one among the sea of videos and Lyla opened it. The playback goes as follows, the 'recording' is from her perspective, it seems.

Miguel is hunched over his desk, mumbling nonsense to himself until it becomes more coherent as Lyla approaches him.

"Whatcha' got there?"

The camera shifts and zooms over to Miguel's hand, to where he's holding a small tupperware. Filled to the brim with baked goodies, a small sticky note is pasted to the top of it however the writing is too tiny to make anything of it.

'They got me a gift.'

'That's the third one this week.'

His chest heaves as he lets out a deep sigh.

'...I know.'

A small moment of silence before Miguel continues speaking.

'Esto es tan tonto. I don't why they keep bringing me these... these things! I don't know why they keep smiling brighter than sun when they give them to me!'

Miguel frustratingly opens the tupperware, brings one of the pastries close to his mouth and takes a big bite. A small groan escapes his throat.

'I don't know what they're putting in these things to make them so delicious! Giving them to me, of all people. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So smart they are. Agile, strong, and capable and— and kind...'

Another bite.

'You know that you've gotten them gifts before, right?'

'But they all look idiotic next to this. Made with their precious time and care. Putting in the effort to make sure that they actually taste good and they do,'

Miguel closes the tupperware with a loud snap.

'¿A quién estoy engañando? They're amazing.'

"Miguel?"

That wasn't part of the recording. Miguel swipes at the screen and it fades out of existence, little pixels hovering in his sight before it completely disintegrates. Lyla disappears too as you swing onto the platform of his office.

He tenses up once he sees you, leaning a hand against his desk. God, he definitely did not want to look at you after what he just watched. He especially did not want to look at you because of the blush that stained his cheeks. Thankfully, mostly hidden by the darkness of his chambers.

Of course, you greeted him with the same warm smile.

"Haven't seen you all day today. Are you doing alright?"

"Fine. Doing fine. Just cleaning, why are you here?" Says Miguel, he despised how his heart pounded in his chest so loudly right now. Whenever he was around you.

Being so composed was what he was known for, what he was respected for. Yet, everytime you even look in the same direction as him, his exterior just melts.

"I just wanted to check in on you, was all. I noticed you haven't come out in a while, I brought you an empanada from the cafeteria just in case you were hungry."

You toss the small container to him and he catches it in one hand, he could hardly comprehend what was going on right now. Staring mindlessly at the box. "Thank you."

"Of course. Take care of yourself for me, I'll... head out now."

He watches over the edge as you fall off the platform, landing onto ledge that separates his desk from the rest of the room.

"Can you start ranting now? I want to get this drive up to 600 videos."

Miguel grumbles, opening the box and biting into the delectable snack before going back to organizing his desktop.

[enbyfrogwrites]

you're so needy, baby pt. 2

so! y'all voted for the content of pt 2. I hope y'all enjoy, again mdni and everything is under the cut <3.

tags: dead dove do not eat, mommy kink, sub!choso, smut, begging, afab reader but reader is nb coded, reader is mix coded but there's nothing pertaining to race outwardly, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl, needy!choso, dom!gn!reader, reader is FAT not chubby or curvy, squirting, 18+; i don't go into details of what reader has, but reader is afab!coded but no outward description of their bottom half. Additionally, no use of y/n, unprotected sex

i'm trying my best, my physical and mental health went down the drain so i'm sorry that it took literal months to even begin this. there's going to be spelling and grammar errors cuz i'm just one person and that's just how it goes. please send me asks of yummy content. i think im gonna make this sub characters blog lmao

thanks for reading <3

word count: ~1.8k

You look back at Choso, his face wet as he pathetically whimpers a combination of pleas and 'Mommy'. You've been playing your game for a while. You haven't checked the time yet, but you figured it was close to an hour since you actually started playing.

"M-Mommy-" Choso huffed hotly into the nape of your neck. "Has it been an hour yet?" His voice was so whiney, the tail end of his question ended in a higher pitch. You chuckle as you felt your boyfriend nuzzled his tear-stained face in between your neck and the soft meat of your shoulder. The sensation caused you to shiver slightly, in turn making Choso groan loudly as you felt his still hard cock twitch inside of you.

"I don't know, baby. I have to check." You answered truthfully, your hand reaching up and ruffled your boyfriend's fine hair. Choso leans into the touch, letting out a small noise. You paused your game and grabbed your phone which sat next to your desktop. You swiftly tap your screen as you bring the device to your face. As you looked at the time, you felt your cute boyfriend grab at your apron belly, squeezing tightly in need, but not enough to physically hurt you.

You notice you have ten more minutes left before it would be a full hour...but you were in between quests in your game. Not only that...but your boyfriend was being such a good boy too...ah, fuck it.

"Yeah, baby." You coo as you take your headphones off and set them in front of you. "Are you ready for Mommy's reward?"

"Please, please!" Choso cried softly into your plump shoulder, his hands skirting up your stomach so he can wrap his arms around your waist. "Mommy, it hurts. Have I been a good boy?"

Your boyfriend squeezes you tightly, whining and sniffling pathetically. You again reach over your shoulder to pat his head lovingly before placing both of your hands on your desk for better leverage. You propel the desk chair backwards, pushing off your desk just enough for you and Choso to get up, not to fling yourself across the room.

"C'mon, Pookie;" You turn your head to look at Choso's beautiful dark violet eyes. "Let's take this to the bed, Okay? Mommy wants you to lay on the bed for them." You slowly pull yourself off his length, making your boyfriend gasp as your wet hole left his aching cock. His cock was slick and shiny from your hole, glistening in the natural lighting in your bedroom. Gods, his cock was beautiful, the head leaked profusely and was a glorious shade between dusty pink and scarlet red. Choso's cock twitched temptingly from the sudden temperature difference. The shaft was just so thick and veiny, and absolutely delectable to look at.

You look up and noticed how wrecked Choso truly was. The shorter front pieces his hair was plastered to this forehead. Your boyfriend's cheeks were so flushed that it somehow made the mark on his nose stand out even more. When you make eye contact with the poor half-curse, his dark circles were more pronounced from how much he was crying and begging. The blush from his cheeks traveled all the way down his neck to just a bit under collar bone that peaked from his V-neck.

You gestured to the bed next to your desk with your hand before gently leaning down to lick your way into Choso's mouth. The mewl that left his mouth as you caressed his tongue lovingly with your own was delicious. You pull away and made the short distance to the bed. You plop down on the edge of it and stared at your boyfriend expectantly as you patted your shared bed.

Choso scrambled off your desk chair, his feet shuffling swiftly and softly across the hardwood floor. He climbed dutifully on the bed and went to the center of the mattress where you patted.

"Scoot up for, Mommy please. Mommy wants their good boy's back on the headboard, can you do that?"

Choso nodded eagerly, his hands pushing the majority of his body weight so he can maneuver to how you wanted him positioned. You move up with him and made sure to tuck a couple of pillows behind him in preparation for his...reward. In addition, you slide your chubby fingers under his V-neck and pulled the fabric off his chiseled abdomen and carefully made sure that it didn't snag on any of his piercings on the way up.

"Mommy, please." Choso choked out, his right hand sneaking past your heated core to grip his cock. Really it's been only a few minutes, but the tone of his voice and desperation in your boyfriend's eyes made it seem it's been like a million years. You giggled as you gently pried his hand off his leaking cock, giving a small peck on his cheek in compensation.

"Relax for me, baby."

You palm your boyfriend's cock with one hand, starting from the base and leave fleeting touches across his tip with your fingertips. You repeat this motion a couple times, making Choso squirm and gasp loudly at the sensation. On the downwards stoke, you continue further down and cupped Choso's balls and gently massaged them. You pull a few more moans and whimpers from him before letting go completely.

You turn yourself around and backed your ass up enough, so your boyfriend's cock lined perfectly with your sopping hole. You hold your breath as you grip his cock and began to sink down on to it. Gods, he was just in you, and he still felt so damned big. You wait a moment after Choso bottoms out to catch your breath before to turning partially around to face the half-curse.

"Let Mommy do all the work, okay? You can cum in Mommy's hole whenever. You were such a good boy today, Cho!"

Choso's only response was a meek 'please, Mommy' followed by a shuttered breath. His pupils were blown wide, his beautiful violet irises almost swallowed whole as he made eye contact with you. You gave him a lopsided smile before facing forward so you can grab at the bed between Choso's thighs.

"My thighs, Mommy!" A pause as you whip your head back towards the half-curse. "I want to feel you grip my thighs as you fuck yourself on my cock, Mommy."

You face heated up immediately. You felt yourself get even more wet on his cock before hurriedly turning back around in slight embarrassment. You go to do what your boyfriend requested of you, but you felt him yank on your t-shirt.

"I love seeing all of you, baby. It's not fair if I'm the only one naked." Choso's tone was between husky and needy.

A twinge of self-consciousness peaked in your head at the thought of riding you boyfriend with all of you exposed. You apron belly, your back rolls, and your stretch marks would be on complete display. But just as those thoughts came into your head, they vanished when you felt Choso sit up more just to grab at your fat stomach.

"Please, baby? I love you. All of you."

You felt your body relax- you didn't even know it tensed up in the first place quite frankly. Warmth blossomed throughout your chest as the love and comfort radiated from Choso. You nodded your head and swiftly pulled off your shirt. You didn't wear a binder or a bra today, so you felt your nipples pebble immediately in the open air.

Fuck, you loved Choso so damned much.

"I love you, too. Lean back so Mommy can take care of you." You twist your head enough so you can watch him obey you before you faced forward again.

You gripped Choso's thighs as you lifted your hips up and slammed them down again. Choso made a choked sound behind you, making you smile at the noise before repeating the motion again. You began to rock your hips at the end, making your boyfriend hit deep inside you. Helpless, you yelp in pleasure as you do it again. Small 'ah ah ah's kept being punched from Choso's lips as you sit fully on him again.

"Fuck, baby, meet me halfway?" You groan the question out as you grind your core on the half-curse's pelvis.

"Yeah, Mama," Choso didn't even hesitate before grabbing your plump hips as leverage to thrust up into you.

You both moan when you meet perfectly in the middle. The skin-on-skin slapping echoed loudly throughout the room, which surprisingly wasn't half as loud as Choso's cries of 'mommy' and his high-pitched keens.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy-" the noise Choso let out following the last plea was between a choked sob and a frustrated whine. "I'm gonna cum! Please! Puh-lease." You twist your head to look behind you and noticed your boyfriend was only using one hand on your hips as he gripped on to his hair with his other hand...in desperation.

You were close too- fuck. Your legs were getting tired, but you weren't going to stop now especially if your boyfriend looked like that. Gripping his thighs even tighter- he's definitely going to have bruises tomorrow- you push yourself even further. Your hips came down harshly and unrelenting. You purposely kept grinding your core on every down stroke to bring yourself closer to orgasming.

"Cumming, Mommy!" Choso keened, he learned forward and grabbed your fat stomach, as he held your hips still to pump his hot seed into your sloppy hole. You felt his cock twitch inside your gummy walls, and you quickly reached between your legs to rub yourself furiously.

It didn't take much, a couple of swipes of your chubby fingers on your nub and the dam broke. A small cry left your lips as you felt a small distant feeling of being...more wet than usual when cumming this time around.

You rested on your haunches as you tried to catch your breath. Unconsciously you rubbed at the now red fingerprints blossoming on Choso's thighs. Speaking of him you felt the half-curse lovingly rub your stomach as he nuzzled his face into the plush middle of your back.

You then felt Choso began to shake uncontrollably, and you began to worry. Just as you tried to turn around, you felt Choso smile into your back, and you noticed that he was fucking...laughing?

"Look down, baby." Choso giggled.

You do as you were requested and look down. To your horror your sheets were soaked.

"Holy fuck! Did I really squirt?" You also noticed that your boyfriend's cock and balls were sopping.

"And here you were trying to play your game, but you wouldn't have done this if you did, Mommy."

[kingshovelbug]

im sorry but i need to geek out somewhere and screaming into the void on tumblr is less likely to get me flayed than on twitter, especially if i get terms wrong. plus i can do a read more and yall can click into the tech talk if you want to verse it bombarding your twitter timelines

so idk if i only liked it or if i actually put it in my queue but i saw a post that talked about a few pieces of tech that focus on user repairs and being sustainable (fairphone and frameworks laptop) and after doing some more research into what they have to offer i actually really excited that these products are finely hitting the us market and that people are moving away from the belief that super smooth streamlined glassy = the future. being able to reliably repair and keep what you have alive verse throwing the whole thing away when maybe all you needed to do is add more ram to your current laptop (something that i would do with my laptop to keep using it for a few more years if it wasnt glued shut and i was at risk of cracking the screen) or swap out a fuse.

i know big corporations dont like it but i truly do believe with how much tech we use on a daily basis that the way that we are going to be more environmentally friendly is to move back to tech that we can hang onto for as long as we can and to recycle and then reuse what we cant. like with the frameworks laptop. i saw that they just partnered with coolermaster to create a case specifically so that you can reuse you motherboard, cpu, etc and make a portable workstation. you could dual wield with the laptop you just upgraded if you want to dedicate specific tasks to one or the other. they also specifically mentioned that you could screw it into the back of a monitor and create your own all in one. guys thats cool as shit??? if you had a 3d printer and some time you could even create that yourself

on top of the actual hardware part moving to open source programs when your able. when i update my desktop i plan on running linux. it might have a learning curve compared to windows but in terms of performance??? ive heard that it runs smoother even on older machines, that its more efficient because isnt running stuff in the background that tracks your data and shit. now i understand that not everyone can do that because there are some programs that dont play nice with linux but for my needs at least it does everything i would need it to. and maybe a couple years down the road we do figure out how to run these programs on certain flavors of linux since its open source and people fiddle with it so much. (still looking for alternatives to like word and excel though, i use google docs since its free but i want to move away from them as much as i can too since they laid of their youtube music team (i believe?? it might of been a different branch) for trying to unionize)

if anyone knows of any other smaller companies that actually focus on sustainability and user repairability please let me know. theres certain pieces of tech that i think are now unfortunately behind a software repair paywall, things that used to be just machines and are gaining more bells and whistles like cars and refrigerators if that makes sense. but the more we push for these things to be repairable by us the consumers id hope that would change, or there would at least be options that dont need specific companies to repair them or else they blow up

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i cut off someone reaching out for help on tumblr? i am a very anxious person. ive been on tumblr a very long time because most all other social media terrifies me as someone who grew up with the wild west internet a decade past (im in my late 20s) so i feel sometimes with how reckless and spurractic people can be online in chatroom and especially clearly public platforms where any stranger, malicious or otherwise can just archive your digital presence for personal use.

more recently as someone who has been here during the pornban and as an asexual really enjoyed the quiet with no drama farming and a slow pace to talk about more unique political topics in a measured way it is something im strangely nostalgic for and a great example of my sensibilities to people when they insist that i use other platforms like discord or twitter or whatever clone for these services comes out of the old guard introducing feature creep to copy everyone else or any other indi "were the anti corporate version" of the endless scroll apps. i just dont want it. tumblr is special because im desktop only, been here for years, and i have kept track of every single change made so i have manually adjusted the change through hacks to evade every bad decision on here and make my set up look identical to how it was in 2010. so let it be understood that i tend to be a loney person because of this stubbornness. web 3.0 is too dangerous to people with addictive tendencies that my adhd brings out and my need to wear my heart on my sleeve. so i hope i defended my personality type enough to show why someone like me would see a post about some horrible abuses they have fell victim to who also share alot of the marginalized status as me and writing depressive things in the replys of others posts as to attention seek about it.

i directly interact with this person, not only to check if they are real (but wow, modern chat bots make this part horrifying for me. we really cant ever know for sure what is real anymore. trying to find warmth on the internet feels impossible now a days) i have multiple conversations at this point both venting and just casually shooting the shit. but the begging for me to constantly repost their paypal makes me so nervous in a way that i feel so guilty for because it reminds me of all the scams that get associated with this kind of ebegging and the reminder that capitalism takes away all warmth from human interaction to make them purely transnational and conditional. but then it just has been escalating where im so scared that now its not enough that im reposing on my 8 follower, all mutual blog, they are asking me to share it on other socials. accounts i do not have i have a flip phone and a laptop and i am tinkering with a windows 7 tower that will never be connected to the internet so i can always have software sit perfectly in its time capsule for when i need it. i do not have a way to help this person outside of what i learned from collage psyche classes. a part of me is so scared to just abruptly cut them off and just delete my entire account like i tend to do often on tumblr for a multitude of reasons, its a part of what lets people survive being here this long but i worry that would crush them if i did that, i dont want to make them feel more hopeless and unwanted then they already talk about. but i am text on the internet through a screen. i can only do so much. so would i be the asshole if i just deleted my account with a "i hope you hang in there, the world is a harsh place but keep moving" to cut someone so similar to me who is struggling out of my life?

What are these acronyms?

[kyra45]

Pet donation scams

For years now, scammers have took to stealing info from legit fundraising posts to steal funds from actual users. So what do they do? It's quite simple to explain the process as someone whose been tracking those I've seen or spotted while searching around. Scammers reuse and redo these so often you can usually find a pattern and catch it before you reblog their post. This post is quite long, but should be useful.

tl:dr - An ask to reblog a pinned post is generally a scam related to pets and the pictures used are stolen from other sites and any info the scam post uses was stolen too with only minor adjustments like the scammers own info that may use the name of someone real.

Scammers do as follows:

Saves a pfp from a blogger and copies the blog info from someone else by copy/pasting it and saving it

Turns off asks

Searches a tag to reblog random posts to look relevant, generally about 10

Hides their blog so it can't be seen outside of desktop and archives aren't easy to access

Searches Facebook for publicly accessible posts where pets need help and may seek it from other sites. They will save photos of a cat but also will copy any information from the post or a different post with minor adjustments if needed

Once they have followed those steps, the scammers will then start to find random blogs. Some blogs may be past targets who fell for the scam and as a result may fall for it again. Or in other cases, blogs that have been targeted before by them and answered the ask without finding out its a scam. Some asks sent go as follows.

Hello there! Just wondering if its okay for you to check the post i pinned and reblog/boost it? Im in desperate need of help im really sorry for coming across your inbox (pls answer this privately) only if its ok 😞 thank you and stay safe

Hi there, im sorry for this (if it bothers you) please see my pinned post as I need help for it. Please boost/share it for us, thank you so much. Really means a lot 🙏

Hello there! Just wondering if its okay for you to check the post i pinned and reblog/boost it? Im in desperate need of help im really sorry for coming across your inbox (pls answer this privately) only if its ok :( thank you and stay safe

Hello! Im sorry if I did bother you by coming across your inbox. Just asking for some help if you can share/boost my post or pinned post rather. It means a lot!

hello! can you pls boost my post about my dog? tysm if u do!

hi ♡ can you reblog the post about my cat? tysm!”

The scammer will send several asks at once to many different blogs and wait to see how many will answer and reblog their scam post. They rely on no one looking up the info the post has, because doing so would show that the post is not in good faith and has stolen it's contents from somewhere else. Those who have no searched the post will likely share it and their mutuals will also share it not knowing the post is actually a scam. Often, these scams do get found out fast but unfortunately some will fall for it. It is likely many have donated money before the scam is found out. If you get an ask or see someone reblog a post that looks suspicious, do the following in tumblr search.

Search the username to see if there's any warnings

Paste the ask and see if others got it

See if the listed paypal has pre-existing alerts for it

Checking the blog sending asks will likely show it is a few days old, though some cases may be an older blog that was broken into and reused and repurposed into a scam blog so the actual owner will never know of it happening since they likely abandoned the website.

Once you know a blog is a scam, please alert your followers by explaining it's a scam and detailing why it's a scam by showing blogs the scammer used that are gone now or linking to previous warnings. It's advised to then report the scam blog like so:

Report -> Something else -> Illegal Uses or Content -> Phishing

This is currently the only way to deal with scammers. I hope this info is detailed enough and useful to any who find it.

[lunarmoves]

through pixel eyes (chapter one)

pairing: DCA sun/moon/eclipse x reader

mentions: kinitopet/virtual au, gender neutral reader, general creepiness

a/n: ignoring that it's 3am where i am... ch1's finally here! yippee!! ending is rushed but im tired so excuse it LOL pls check out the masterlist for more info on the fic (tags & summary). hope u guys enjoy! :D

word count: 5.3k+

masterlist

ao3 link

Click. Click. Taptap tap tap. Click. 

You chew aimlessly at the bottom of your lip as your mouse roves over to the latest email in your inbox, opening it with another decisive click. Perking up slightly, your eyes skim through its contents, mindful of the zip file attached to it at the top. 

Valued employee, the email reads, thank you again for your decision to assist Fazbear Entertainment in the latest beta testing stages for our developing proprietary technology. Attached is the file you are required to download to begin testing. As always, be mindful of the documentation you have signed previously; a failure to comply will result in immediate termination. Located at the bottom of this email is the submission form you will need to populate each time you conduct a run. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to reply to this email. Have a Faz-errific day! 

You hum and scroll back to the top of the email again so you can look at the attached file. FazPals1.1_DCA.zip, it says. You click the download button, then lean back in your chair as you wait. 

For being such a large company, FazCo has a rather small beta testing team. You suppose it makes sense, though; their technology is so unparalleled that you are sure they’d want to keep information as closed off as possible. Hence why you’d been forced to sign all matters of forms—contracts, an N.D.A., and waivers, of all things—before they’d signed you on. You’re sure they are even more restrictive with their information after the pizzaplex burned down all those years ago. You’re lucky you’d managed to slither your way into their ranks to make the beta team, though you figure it helps that your resume is stacked with experience. 

You are certainly curious as to what they’ve been doing while they parade assurances that the pizzaplex will return “better than ever.” You have a vague idea from your past emails with management as you were being incorporated into the beta testing team—some kind of interactive game of sorts, you think—but they’ve been rather hush-hush about it. Your answer resides in the zip file that’s just finished downloading to your computer. You navigate to your file explorer and begin the extraction process for the files. Luckily, it doesn’t take too long. You scratch idly behind your ear, shifting your headphones a little to rest more comfortably atop your head. 

Okay. File open. Where is the— There! You double click on the FazPals_DCA.exe file to run it and begin installation. A brief glance at the time shows it is a little after six in the evening. You have quite a bit of time before you’ll need to head to bed. You’ll see how far into the program you get before you hit a checkpoint or something. 

You watch as a tiny pink and white bear on the installation window flips a pizza over and over while the progress bar steadily inches its way to full completion. It is oddly hypnotizing. And when the program finally finishes installing, the window closes. An icon of a cool crescent moon tucked into the burning yellow of a sun appears on your desktop and is labeled as FazPals. Nice. Thank you, fast WiFi. Without much preamble, you double click on the icon. 

A small window pops up in the middle of your screen. You glance through the text quickly. 

Welcome to version 1.1 of FazPals, your very own virtual desktop friend based on the hit characters from Fazbear Entertainment's Mega Pizzaplex! They are able to walk, talk, joke, tell stories, give fun facts, adapt, and play games! FazPals are like no other with their innovative adaptive technology! You'll learn from them as they learn from you!

Click the button below if you are ready to meet your new FazPal!

Not what you’d been expecting, but it sounds pretty cool. It reminds you of the Tamagotchis from all those years ago—only with the A.I. of Fazbear-branded technology. Well! No time like the present! You click the ‘Proceed’ button and the window closes. 

In the center of your screen, a small music box appears. It’s an unassuming little thing, wrapped in yellow with a red ribbon crossing over it to tie into a neat bow at the top. A crank awaits your click, so you do just that, watching as it rotates around and around until— Pop! The box opens and something jumps out of it with a flourish and a jingle of bells that echoes through your headset. 

The box disappears and you’re left to stare curiously at the little figure swaying animatedly on your desktop. He seems to look around a bit, then a small dialogue box flashes over his head. But before you can read its contents, the box disappears in a static puff. You cock your head slightly. A glitch, maybe? You file that away for later and instead observe the tiny, taut grin of the program. Your FazPal, or whatever. 

You recognize him from the pizzaplex commercials you’d seen on the television years ago—the Daycare Attendant. A fellow—fellows?—modeled after celestial bodies. You’re looking at the sun, currently, though his design is a bit different from what you remember seeing.

Before you can get a good look at him, however, another dialogue box pops up over his head with text accompanying a voice that chirps into your headset. You are momentarily surprised at the sound; you hadn’t expected FazCo to incorporate their voice module into the program too. 

“Hellooo, New Friend!” Sun exclaims in a slightly pixelated manner—hardly noticeable, really—as he waves a small hand. “My name is Sun, your very own F-FazPal!” There’s a slight glitch on the word that makes his voice deepen slightly, but it passes easily enough. “What’s your name?” 

Following his question, a window labeled ‘Name?’ pops up to his side with a textbox for you to input your answer. Figuring he isn’t going to proceed with his script until you type your answer, you take the moment to properly analyze his design. 

Detached sunrays of white and gold hover around his head, framing bright eyes and an equally as bright smile on a face split into a crescent. He’s rather lithe, with a red sash tied around his waist that’s adorned with small, golden bells. Another bell is tied around his spindly neck with a red ribbon, and those same ribbons are tied around his wrists. His torso is bare and colored in different shades of yellow. Puffy red pants cover his legs—triangularly shaped with sharp lines and edges. They are decorated in a design that reminds you of the circuitry of a motherboard—dissecting lines connected by small circles that start from his waist and make their way down the length of his pants in a trickle. Pointy shoes with little suns on their sides finish the look. 

He is all angles and unforgiving points, with a digitized sort of look to him that fits the whole ‘FazPal’ aesthetic, in your opinion. It’s certainly interesting. You like the futuristic feel to it. 

Pulling yourself back to the present, you type in your name. Sun has his arms crossed behind his back as he waits, swaying gently side to side. You hit enter and the window disappears. 

“Lovely name!” Sun chirps, his rays spinning around his head eagerly that you eye in interest. They look like floating pieces of fractured, stained glass, dainty yet deadly. “I’m sure we are going to be the bestest best friends!” You snort at the declaration. 

“To start our little quest of friendship,” Sun continues on, his head moving towards the dialogue box that pops up near him like he’s looking at it, eyes narrow. It’s honestly difficult to tell with that blank gaze of his. He returns his gaze to the front, where his eyes upturn into little crescents. “Why don’t we get to know each other? Sound good?” 

Another window appears with two simple buttons sitting next to each other under it: A ‘Yes’ and a ‘No’. You click the ‘Yes’ and Sun gives an excited little clap of his hands. It’s cute, in a way. “Wonderful! Okay! To start, what iiisss your favorite color?” The open window closes, then reopens to a textbox again with the new question displayed at the top. You hum and tap your chin thoughtfully, then let your fingers fly across your keyboard as you type the color in. 

You pause, however, before you hit enter and decide to tack on a ‘hbu?’ to your response. If only to satisfy your curiosity and really test the limits of FazCo’s ingenious A.I. Hey, you’re a beta tester—it speaks for itself! 

Sun grins even wider, if possible. “That’s a good one! As for me…” He makes a thinking gesture, eyes narrowing like he’s contemplating it deeply, then brightens up. No, literally. A lightbulb appears over his head for a quick moment. “I like all the colors, it’s so hard to choose just one! Normally, I just say ‘rainbow’!” He makes a little semicircle gesture with his hands around his head. Little pixelated sparkles wink into and out of existence near his fingers before he clasps his hands behind him once more. You’ve got to hand it to FazCo—they certainly know how to add some flair to their characters. “Next question! If you could have any superpower ever, what would it be?”  

You chew at your lip again as you lean back in your chair and ponder his question. Why is it when people ask you these kinds of questions you always blank on the answers? Sun is ever so patient as he waits, moving in that idle animation next to the open window. 

Ah well, it’s not like you’re answering an interview question or anything. You wing it. ‘probably invisibility, or something. hbu?’ And enter. 

“Ooh! Invisibility!” Sun nods like he’s giving his approval. “Good in the right hands! I would want the power to read minds, I think! All the better for making fantastic friends!” 

You make a small sound at that. Well, you suppose that’s one way to make friends, albeit not a very… stable foundation to base a friendship off of. Sun proceeds with his next question. “This one’s a bit of a tough one! What’s your favorite word?” 

‘Tough’ is an understatement. You’re stumped. You rake through your mind for a word and draw up nothing but blanks. You’re certain you have one, but you just cannot think of it at the moment. Shrugging, you type ‘idk. i can't think of one rn, sorry. do u have one?’ 

His head cocks to the side, grin curling at the edges. “That’s more than one word, New Friend!” Sun replies amusedly, then laughs—a loud, tinkering thing that cuts off a bit strangely at its end. “Kidding! I’ll let you off easy for that one!” He is quite good at adapting to your responses, you note lightly. Very intriguing. You wonder how that’s coded. “My favorite word is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” You blink in surprise. The dialogue box is barely able to hold the word inside of it. You didn’t quite expect him to say that, of all words, though you guess it makes sense for him. Sun doesn’t elaborate, just transitions merrily through the next part of his script. “Now, for this question, I need you to be as detailed as possible, okay? It is”—he pauses for a second—“essential.” 

You nod, but it’s not like he can see you, so you end up looking like a fool. Sun stares straight ahead and it… it feels a bit like he’s looking directly at you. You shift uneasily in your seat and watch his eyes go dark along with his white rays and wide smile. Abyss-like. Something drops in the pit of your stomach at the abrupt switch. His smile widens. It cracks like he’s on the edge of something hysterical. And when he speaks, it’s in a low, garbled voice that grates at your ears. 

“Where.” He grits out. “Are—” 

He doesn’t get the chance to finish. A glitch encompasses his body that makes his rays twitch erratically and his limbs to jitter about like he’s being electrocuted. You jerk back out of surprise and consider exiting the hell out of the program. But then he’s back to normal like nothing had ever happened. White eyes stare up at you with an equally as white smile. 

“Oh!” Sun exclaims cheerfully, swaying about gently. You’re taken aback and, quite frankly, confused out of your goddamn mind. “Silly me, look at the time! I’m afraid our friendship will have to wait! There’s someone else who’d like to meet you!” 

“What.” You utter the word mindlessly, eyes flicking down to the time on your computer. 6:59 P.M. Time sure did fly by through all of… that. You’re not entirely sure what to think of it. 

“Talk to you soon, New Friend!” Sun waves a hand in farewell, then spins himself around in a little animated tornado. You can only stare, oddly transfixed and still utterly flummoxed, as he spins around, and around, and around until the clock changes to 7:00 P.M. and he slows to an elegant stop. 

Only, it’s not Sun you’re looking at anymore. 

The rays are gone, replaced with a nightcap covering his head that’s adorned with twinkling stars and a little bell at the end. All the yellows have shifted to greys, blues, and blacks, though he still retains the golden bells, red ribbons, and red sash. His pants are a midnight blue with the same circuitry design, and his shoes now have little moons etched into them instead of suns. 

This must be the moon, you conclude once you’re done observing him. The other half to the Daycare Attendant you remember seeing via advertisement—the one who’d been in charge of naptime. 

You watch as Moon seems to look around. You’re not sure what he’s looking at, but you can only wait. Gentle ruby eyes move from your desktop icons to the open window that Sun had been standing next to. His smile turns jagged like the outline of a mountain. And then—

And then he slinks away, disappearing straight off of your monitor without a second look. You’re left staring at the open window, the cursor still blinking in the textbox and awaiting your input. What… just happened? You blink at where he’d disappeared off screen and wait a few moments. But he doesn’t come back. 

What the hell?

Five minutes turns into ten, which turns into fifteen and then twenty, but he truly does not return. You’re stupefied. 

Maybe you should restart the program? You nibble at your lower lip and right click on the FazPals icon so you can end it and then boot it back up again. Your mouse turns into that loading circle of death, and you swear you’re not holding your breath in anticipation or anything, but it sure does feel like it. 

Loading… loading… loading…

…

Nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Moon does not appear. You groan and scratch at your ear again, shifting your headphones. Day one of testing and you’ve already run into a problem. Great. Well, it wasn’t like you’d expected everything to be smooth sailing. Still annoying, though. Just in case, you try restarting your computer. 

It doesn’t yield any results either, and you end up just watching some videos as you wait to see if the bug will magically fix itself. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t and you eventually give up as the clock ticks closer to midnight.

But well—you think as you slowly pull up the submission form FazCo had sent you for your job to fill out—you suppose this is why the program’s still in the testing phase. It obviously has some kinks that need to be ironed out. Hopefully it’ll get fixed up in the next patch update. Until then, you’ll just have to deal with it. 

A benefit of working from home? You get to set your own schedule. A blessing, at times. 

That unfortunately means you have to stick to it while ensuring you’re properly taking care of yourself, and going outside to get fresh air, and also getting all the necessary work done on time, and also— 

Well, you get the point. 

You wake up groggy the next day and stumble your way out of your room, just barely managing to step over the little Roomba aimlessly bumbling down the small hallway. At one point it was another product you were testing, but then it was given the green flag for mass production and admission to stores. The company let you keep the one they sent you. It was a little finicky, but it worked just fine. You named it Chicken Nugget a while ago—Dr. Nugget for short, because a Roomba with a PhD was just too amusing to pass up. You’re still musing over what area its PhD is in.

There is much to be done. Dishes from last night need to be washed, food needs to be prepared to last you a few days, timesheets need to be filled out before you forget your hours. It’s easy to multitask on household chores while you do your job. You're on the beta testing team for quite a few companies, so you’re kept busy evaluating their programs and products while you julienne onions and clean plates. You earn enough to live comfortably, and it’s all you can ever ask for, really. 

Eventually, after a long day of being a responsible human being and submitting numerous evaluation forms for various applications, you plop down in front of your computer with your headphones and turn it on. Evening has just started to creep in, turning the sky into a picturesque gradient of burnt mandarin and dusty magenta. Your desk is right by a window, so it’s nice to draw the curtains back and let fresh air circulate around the room from it.

Alright, computer on. You type in your password to log in and wait as it finishes booting up. First thing on your list—check your email. There’s nothing of importance, not that you’d expected anything, really. Oh hey, you’ve got a discount code for your next purchase at your favorite pizza store. Sweet. You save it for later. 

All you have to do is test FazCo’s program and then you can relax for the rest of the night. You preemptively open up their submission form and minimize the window, then double click on the FazPals icon. Hopefully you won’t run into any problems. Code is weird like that—working perfectly fine at one moment and doing fuck all the next. And it’s always a pain filling those surveys out when there’s an abundance of bugs and glitches to point out. It’s simple, but oh so tedious. You guess that’s what you’re getting paid for, though. 

Blinking back to attention, you squint at your empty desktop then double click on the FazPals icon again. Ah, there you go. Loading symbol. 

Instead of the little music box like you’d been expecting, Sun comes into view by cartwheeling in from the side of your monitor. It’s silly and you smile slightly as he jumps up to his feet and splays his arms and a leg out wide like he’s about to fall into another cartwheel. 

“New Friend!” he exclaims loudly alongside the text in his dialogue box, rays spinning rapidly about his head in delight. You wince slightly and lower your volume a bit. No need to kill your eardrums. “You’re back! It has been twenty-two hours, nine minutes, and thirty-seven seconds since we last interacted!” 

Your brow raises at his precision, but what else did you expect from a computer program? Sun relaxes into his normal stance and leans forward eagerly. “So! What do you wanna do?” A small, labeled window pops up next to him for you to type in. One of his rays twitches slightly. “For a list of activities I can perform, type ‘/help’!” 

You’ve already forgotten what he can do other than walk around and talk your ear off, so you do just that and the window disappears. You didn’t even have to hit enter. 

Sun beams. “For your present and future reference, I can tell jokes, give fun facts, play games, and storytell! Pick your poison, New Friend!” 

You ponder for a bit, then type ‘can u tell me a fun fact?’ in the new window before it pops out of sight, again before you can press enter. Huh. You make a note of it mentally. The back and forth with the windows is going to take some getting used to. 

“I sure can!” Sun does a little wiggle and stands at full attention with his arms crossed behind his back. “Did you know that neutron stars spin six hundred times per second? Pretty cool!” He seems very cheery today. You’ll have to keep an eye out for any more of that strange glitching from yesterday. “Want another one?” 

Eh, you don’t see why not. You shrug and click the ‘Yes’ button when it appears. Sun gives a little salute. “The most water ever discovered surrounds a black hole about twelve billion lightyears away! It has the equivalent of one hundred and forty trillion times the volume of Earth’s oceans!” You’re starting to see a theme here with his fun facts and it honestly checks out. Sun’s rays spin a little to the right as he tilts his head slightly. “That was two facts in one, technically. Just for you! Don’t tell anyone!!” And then he winks, accompanied by a little star spinning out from his eye. It’s a small detail, but it still makes you smile. Consider you charmed. 

“Alrighty! I have an idea of what we can do next!” Sun says as he skips away to the edge of your monitor. You watch him curiously as he sticks a hand beyond your desktop—somewhere offscreen?—and starts pulling over a large open window from it. Like he’s unraveling a spool of paper. He drags the window over to the center of your screen, then wipes his face with his arm and takes an exaggerated breath. “Phew! That’s heavier than it looks! Luckily, I’ve got these to help me!” He flexes his stick-like arms dramatically, posing this way and that like he’s a pro wrestler. 

You notice, as he poses, that another small window pops up—indistinct and unlabeled this time with a simple textbox for you to type in. But he… didn’t really ask you a question or anything of the sorts for you to respond to? You eye it for a moment, then decide to type a little ‘hi’ in it to see if it’s a bug or something. After waiting a few seconds to see if the window will close again without you hitting enter, nothing really happens. Oh, is it fixed now? You hit enter and the text disappears, but the window stays. You guess it is. Code, man. So finicky. 

Sun stops flexing to shoot you a bright beam with a spin of his rays. “Hello!” 

Okay, maybe it’s not a bug if he can still process your texts. Shrugging it off easily, you turn your attention to the window Sun had pulled over from who-knows-where. It looks like your computer’s Paint app. How did he open that? ‘what’s that for?’ you type into the textbox.  

“This is for us to play some games, silly!” Sun brandishes his hands towards the Paint window like he’s presenting a masterpiece. “How does Tic-Tac-Toe sound?” 

Well, not like you have any other ideas for what to do. ‘sure, let’s play.’ 

“Faz-tastic!” Sun claps his hands, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a comically large wooden pencil from its depths. Seriously, it’s nearly the length of his arm. It’s like something right out of a cartoon and you grin at the silliness. He steps closer to the Paint window and draws four perfectly straight and intersecting lines—each of them the same length and splitting into the same sized boxes and everything. He then draws a perfect circle in one of the corner boxes and steps back. “Your turn!” 

You crack your knuckles and roll your shoulders. Okay. Time to lock in and kick this program’s ass. 

Except you don’t. 

You lose horribly. Seven times in a row, in fact. 

‘r u cheating? ur cheating, aren’t u,’ you type into the open textbox, which had remained in place all throughout your games. Unusual, but you’re not too bothered by it. After you lost the first few rounds, you started complaining to him using it. You figured you might as well. It’s almost like having a conversation with him and you’re pretty impressed by his verbal versatility. 

“Cheating?!” Sun squawks, offended. He splays a hand across his chest as he somehow manages to twirl his giant pencil in his hand like a baton. “A rulebreaker, I am not! I think someone is getting a little grumpy!” He gives you a pointed grin. 

You should have expected you’d lose to fucking A.I. software. You run your tongue over your bottom lip, where you’d been incessantly troubling it with your teeth throughout the rather merciless Tic-Tac-Toe beating you’d just received. You’re considering mentioning in the submission form that the program is too difficult to beat at games, but maybe you’re just that bad at them. Your ego’s definitely going through it.

‘i’m not grumpy,’ you grumble. Sun shakes his little digital head in good mirth, seeing right through you, of course. You switch topics. ‘let’s play something else. got any other games?’ 

“I sure do, Friend!” He uses his pencil eraser to clear the Paint canvas and starts drawing what looks like a game of Hangman. He gives you a sly smile. “Think you’re up for a real challenge?” Cheeky! 

After some rounds of Hangman and Pictionary (which, to your pleasant surprise, you’re not too bad at, but maybe Sun’s taking pity on you), Sun eventually closes the Paint window and makes a show of stretching languidly. “My time’s almost up, I’m afraid!” Sure enough, a quick glance at the time shows it’s nearing seven o’clock. Time flies when you’re having fun. “Make sure to stretch your back and arms out, Friend! Hydration is also important!” 

‘yes boss, u got it, boss,’ you reply before stretching out your arms. You have a water bottle on your desk that you take a quick drink out of, the liquid inside of the insulated material still cool and refreshing. You shiver a little and eye your window still letting the night air into the room. You should close that soon. And maybe turn on the lights so you’re not sitting in the dark illuminated only by your bright screen. 

Naturally, you do neither. Too much work right now.

Sun wiggles a little, then clasps his arms behind his back. “This was fun! I will talk to you tomorrow, Friend!” His grin widens, curling at the edges. “Don’t keep me waiting too long!”

And before you can really process the tone of that, he pulls out a red curtain from somewhere behind him. Shaking it out slightly, he pulls it up in front of him to block your view of his little figure entirely. You raise an eyebrow as the curtain wiggles and protrudes out like he’s changing into new clothes, before eventually it falls down and reveals Moon. His nightcap is pulled down to partially cover his glowing ruby eyes.

You lean forward in your chair, attention instantly grabbed. Will he work properly this time? You consider him for a moment as he simply stands there—sullen and, dare you say, annoyed. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is pulled into a scowl. He shifts like he wants to move or leave, but something keeps him rooted into the same spot Sun was just in. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his pants (he has pockets??) and he slouches like a puppet cut from its strings.  

He’s not saying anything. Only glares off at a point somewhere on your screen. You bite the inside of your cheek and decide to take one for the (nonexistent) team. 

‘hi moon,’ you type into the textbox that’d remained even after Sun left. Pressing enter, you watch curiously as something tense seems to line Moon’s small shoulders and he moves his glare to the open window instead. 

His head twitches. “Hi,” he replies slowly in a raspy voice. It’s not what you’d expected, low and murmured like he’s speaking to someone in a dark and quiet corner. His gaze darts to the dialogue box that pops up next to his head and seems to narrow even farther. 

Oookay. He doesn’t say anything else. Is he still bugged or is he just programmed to be much quieter than Sun? You’re not sure if that makes sense for this type of program, though. You try to nudge the conversation again, thinking back to the list of commands Sun gave you earlier. ‘can u tell me a joke?’ 

Moon seems to look at you and it’s just as creepy as it had been when Sun did it. His scowl deepens. “No.”

You’re taken aback. No? Oh. Well. Maybe you should try something else? ‘can u tell me a fun fact?’ At least you know this command works for certain.

“No.” 

It’s like pulling teeth over here. 

You’re determined, however. This is your entire job. ‘what about a story?’

“No.” Moon bares knife-like teeth at you in aggravation and you’re tempted to do the same thing back. He doesn’t want to do anything! Something is definitely… off. You make a note of it to include in the submission form later. At least he hasn’t left your screen. You’ll take the win where you can. 

You’re stumped on what to do. The only thing you can think of is to keep inputting commands until something gives. Maybe things will sort themselves out? You try asking for a fun fact or joke again, but Moon still just scowls and answers in that same clipped manner. His fidgeting seems to increase. 

You’re getting close to calling it quits. ‘why don’t we play a game or something? tic-tac-toe?’

“P-Persistent little thing,” Moon growls into your headset and it’s such a reprieve from the constant rejections that you’re not even offended. You perk up slightly only to deflate at his following words. “Didn’t anyone teach you that ‘no’ means no?” 

‘no,’ you type as a response—partly in annoyance and partly just to be snarky. Moon twitches again, and then in the blink of an eye—he glitches. 

Similar to Sun, it spreads down his body in a wave and makes him jitter until he snaps back into place like a rubber band. He flexes his hands and takes a step to the side—tentative and exploratory. The window with the textbox pops out of existence and Moon gives you one final, narrowed glare before he just… leaves offscreen. Again. What the fuck?

You scrub a hand down your face and groan. You don’t expect him to return, but just in case you wait around a little and kill some time by filling out the submission form. Name, program version, strengths, encountered issues, and so on. You submit the form when you finish and roll your shoulders. Yeah, he doesn’t come back. At least there was some progress compared to yesterday. 

You end the day with a final squint at the FazPals icon and a shrug of your shoulders. Things could be worse, you suppose as you power off your computer and stare at your reflection through the dark screen of your monitor. Hopefully tomorrow brings more improvement. 

part two

[astrum-aetherium]

hi dear

no because i love anything domestic and mundane and with henry even more.

you know those sweet little things. like washing the dishes, drying them, cooking, glances across the room, reading quietly together, falling asleep on his lap, oh and if i saw one of those small smiles adorning his lips i would never stop grinning ( or sobbing) while looking at him ( honest id love to see what he'd do if he saw me staring at him with a big smile upon seeing one of his smiles). i so so so need this.

im violently sobbing rn

-A

i, too, am immensely fond of domesticity and the simple things, specifically applied to a character as cool and otherwise indifferent as henry. it's very mellowing, so tender, and comforting beyond all comprehension. i wholeheartedly love the few ideas you've pitched in the request, they're marvelous. let me see what i can conjure up on the basis thereof.

doing the dishes for him after a long, taxing day; knowing he is merely situated in the adjacent room, working; being reassured of the fact by the waft of smoke curling its way into the kitchen. washing mugs that previously harbored tea he'd made for you, precisely the way you like it; drying plates that were previously used to serve a meal you'd brought from home for the two of you, a loving gesture he appreciated so much he couldn't help but press a gratuitous kiss into your forehead, specifically because he had been so busy lately he couldn't even bring himself to cook. but there you were, swooping in, and saving him from the brink of giving up on himself once more.

finishing up the dishes and tiredly lowering yourself into his couch with a book as he sits at his desk in the same room and continues working on something so tremendously important to him. flicking through the pages placidly, calmly, at utter peace — lighting yourself a cigarette when and if you feel like it, having wordlessly snuck one from the pack of luckies lain by his dominant hand. indirectly and passively listening to how he breathes, how his pen scratches ink into the firm paper, how he turns over book pages of his own and sighs every now and again with a heaviness that awakens sympathy in you. all the while, you read, immersed in either a story to get your mind off of your studies or matching henry in productivity by reading something on the curriculum.

soon enough, he would rise, and flick off the desktop lamp — thereby marking his work time done for now. without detaching your eyes from your book, you'd know that his would be looking for you, only because mere moments later, you'd feel his tired, large frame sinking into the very same couch you're curled up on. he would gently grab hold of your legs and place them on his lap, tenderly caressing them through the dark tights posing a barrier between his digits and your bare flesh. you'd sigh, then, laying your book aside — only to be met with a mellow, soft glance exuding from him. he'd smile upon having locked eyes with you, albeit lightly — tiredly. that smile would simultaneously cause your heart to swell and bleed, aware of how much relief your presence provides him but also due to the bitter recognition of how much he needs said relief in the first place due to constantly being burdened and plagued by his studies, his environment, and his problems.

"read that to me, please," he'd request, then, nodding at the book you will have lowered in your lap. "and come a little closer, if you'd like."

because of his kind, meager proposition, you'd be propped against his shoulder, his arms tenderly encasing your body, in no time. you'd be lowly reading to him, regardless of whether he is familiar with the content of the book or not; he would merely delight in listening to the velvety, quiet flow of your voice. every now and again, his lukewarm fingertips would drift across the stretch of your arm, your waist, or your legs — whatever he will be holding onto. once you would end up falling asleep on him in this way, he would slowly lull you into a more comfortable position, and then light himself a cigarette — descending into contemplation and worry once more, ready for yet another sleepless night, which would merely be sweetened by your warm and comforting presence asleep in his grasp.

[hey-kae]

Post-Victory

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x female reader

Request: After reading that 5 time orgasm I couldn't help but wonder if you wrote about other drivers too? Cause not gonna lie, I would sell my soul to see gentleman Carlos giving the ofc at least 3 mind blown orgasm written by you 🤤 If it is possible please make it enemies to lover or put some tension between them, it is my fav🥲 Thank u for your amazing fics and writing, they are perfecttttt

Warnings: fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

Sidenote: I’m not gonna lie, I don’t really like how this turned out but I’ve rewritten it so many times that i just gave up. I’m so sorry to disappoint!! I’m im such an angsty mood so that kinda explains it but it’s also the fact that i’m just not attracted to Carlos no matter how hard i try to convince myself to be ( don’t come at me please, he’s just not my type but he is good looking so yeah).

Life as a content creator for Ferrari was significantly easy on most days, just carrying a phone around, filming the right videos and posting at the right times. On other days, the phone was shoved into your hands and you were thrown in front of Carlos and Charles to film one of the now infamously silly tiktoks. Those days spent under the Spanish driver’s glaring stare were living hell, especially since most times, the looks escalated into snide comments you’d exchange until some other team member told the two of you to knock it off and get to work.

It was ridiculous, really. You and Carlos had absolutely no reason to hate each other, it seemed to come naturally for some unknown reason.

After the Silverstone race, you had to visibly fight the urge to roll your eyes dramatically when you were asked to meet with Sainz in the motorhome after he had won his first ever Grand Prix. Sure, as a member of the Ferrari team, you were happy about the victory, but had it been up to you, you would’ve enjoyed the win much more from a distance without having to get up close and personal with the winner himself. It might be an unpopular opinion, but it was yours and you would’ve stood your ground if had the choice to. Instead, you sucked it up and sulked your way back to the red motorhome, your eyes immediately going to search for Carlos, knowing he had already finished his podium celebrations.

You searched for him for several minutes, passing by every room in the motorhome, asking every person you passed if they had run into him.

There was no signs of him.

“Fucking hell, Carlos.” You cussed under your breath, climbing the stairs up to the level where the drivers’ rooms were, knowing that was you last resort.

Sure enough, his room was alive with sounds of him moving around it.

You stormed in, having had enough of him already even though you weren’t even in the same room yet. There he was, now dressed in a Ferrari shirt and some jeans, rummaging through the bag on his desk.

“Why the hell aren’t you downstairs, Sainz?” You spit the words out with so much anger.

“Because we need to film a video?” He responded with a frown, not understanding your attitude.

“Here? We’re filming on the main-“

“You know, a congratulations would be nice. It won’t kill you.” He cut you off, taking one too many steps towards you and reaching behind you to slam the door shut.

“Ok, great. Congratulations. Now let’s get this over with.” You gestured for him to hurry up and move along.

“You are unbelievable.” He shook his head in disbelief, moving away from you.

“Well, good thing your opinion about me doesn’t really matter.” Your words made his head snap towards you, anger starting to cloud his expression.

“I’d love to fuck that attitude out of you some day, preciosa.” He chuckled with pure spite, his look piercing its way through you.

The phone in your hand threatened to slip out grip as Carlos’ words startled you, to say the least, so in attempt to attempt to mask this reaction you had, you tossed the small device onto the desktop, the sound of the impact silencing the room.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Your voice was right up there on the scale of shouting at the spanish man.

“Oh, i’m sure you heard me.” He narrowed his eyes at you, moving back towards you until your back was flush against the wall, his arm reached beside him to slam the door shut.

“Why the fuck do you think you have the right to talk to me like that? You are such an entitled prick!” You spit the words out.

Every single one of your nerves was pulsing with feelings you didn’t want to feel, things that you thought were impossible to feel. It seemed like your blood was rushing too fast and your skin had gotten a little too hot. Before you even allowed yourself to consider the possibility of you being attracted to the man currently cornering you, your legs made the decision to leap out of the small space between Carlos and the wall.

The attempt to escape was a little too slow. Carlos’ hand slammed against the wall beside your head, blocking your way and caging you in.

“Go on. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll immediately stop.”

Unexpected desire fogged your mind, leaving you staring at his lips and struggling to form any sentence.

“Tell me what you want, princesa.”

It took everything in you to say anything.

“Go fuck yourself, Sainz.”

It’s a shame, the amount of power you had to muster to say these four words, especially since they seemed pointless.

Carlos pushed his body up against yours, his every move oozing with confidence. He wasn’t clueless and your reaction to him wasn’t exactly subtle.

“I’d much rather fuck you so tell me if you want it before you lose the privilege, sweetheart.” He smirked.

The fact that he thought sex with him was a privilege made your blood boil, and your thighs clench but you weren’t gonna give that any attention.

“Fuck you.”

“Alright then.” He raised his hands in surrender, taking a step away from you.

Nothing in this world would’ve explained your next reaction, but for now it didn’t matter. You weren’t even trying to understand it.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and crashed your lips against his without thinking about what you were doing.

That was all it took for him to pin you up against, his knee nestling between your thighs, his hands firm against your body.

“You might be annoying but i always knew you were smart, preciosa.” His hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Shut up and fuck me. I’m not here for you to evaluate my intelligence.” It was fucking amazing, how he was still able to get on your nerves even when his lips were against yours and his tongue was discovering your mouth.

“Alright then.”

Your Ferrari shirt was tossed onto the floor shortly after that, his also following yours immediately.

Carlos’ lips kissed down your jaw, down to your chest, slipping your bra’s strap off your shoulder and kissing its spot.

While his kisses busied your mind, his touch slipped down your stomach, down to the front of your pants. He was suddenly eager to undo your pants, quickly slipping his hand into them.

“You were trying to push me away when you’re this wet? I’m disappointed in you, sweetheart.” He smirked as he felt the dampness of your underwear.

“Carlos, i swear to god if-“ Desperate to shut you up, he pushed your panties to the side and thrusted a finger into you.

The words you were planning to throw at him quickly got lost and you caught yourself moaning as another finger stretched you out.

“I like these sounds much better,” he removed his fingers to strip you of your pants and underwear.

Once they were thrown onto the floor, he resumed his actions, his thumb rubbing your clit as well this time.

“Fuck.” You arched your back off the wall, eager for more friction of any kind. Carlos was quick to take notice of your reaction so he added a third finger, eliciting a moan from you.

“Say my name.” He slowed down his hand’s movements.

You gave him no reply.

“Say my fucking name.” His movement stilled completely.

“Is this some ego thing? ‘Cause I don’t mind finishing the job myself.” You challenged him, moving your hand down to try and prove your point.

Carlos didn’t allow you to do that. He pushed your hand away and glared at you.

“Trust me princesa, you’ll end up moaning my name anyway. I was just giving you an easy route.”

His whole attitude changed after that. His movements against your clit were almost aggressive and his fingers were fucking you so hard, it made your body shake.

“Oh shit.” You moaned as you clenched your pussy around his fingers, feeling your orgasm just seconds away. When you finally let go, releasing your cum onto Carlos’ fingers, you made it a point to avoid moaning his name no matter what.

That enraged him, to say the least, so he didn’t give you time to come down from your orgasm. He immediately kneeled down in front of you, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder and latching his mouth onto your clit while keeping up the thrusting of his fingers. It made you groan and whimper in unprecedented ways.

“Oh my fucking god.” The expletives kept spilling out of your mouth as Carlos slowly sucked on your clit and licked every part of your pussy, his nose making you shiver every time it brushed the right spots.

You looked down at him, the sight almost making you cum on spot. He was eating you out like a starved man, the sounds his tongue was making only being more proof of how much he was taking his time with this.

Your hand fisted his hair, tugging of his dark strands as his teeth grazed your sensitive clit, igniting a feeling of warmth all over your body. Concluding that you liked that, Carlos kept repeating that move, making the feeling building up in the pit of your stomach stronger.

Soon enough, you eyes squeezed shut and your body shuddered as another orgasm aggressively ripped through you. It left you breathless, fully relying on the wall for support as Carlos let go off you, standing up to watch you with a sense of pride.

The uneventful moments didn’t last long.

“Bend over the desk.” Carlos ordered as he took off the rest of his clothes, revealing his hard cock.

The sight made you comply so fast. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but you couldn’t wait to have him buried deep inside your wet pussy.

“You’re a good girl when you’re about to get fucked.” Carlos pointed out.

You looked over your shoulder to find him with his hand wrapped around his dick, guiding it towards your entrance.

“Shut the fuck up.” You turned back around, fully expecting to feel him push into you any second now. Instead, you felt his tip press against your clit, making you weak.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, princesa.” He circled his dick around your sensitive nub of nerves, making you close your eyes as he began rubbing your clit the same way. He moved his cock to trace the sides of your entrance, teasing you by pushing in the tip slightly into you before quickly pulling back out.

He teased your hole for long enough before redirecting his attention back to your clit. He moved himself faster against it, teasing himself and bringing you closer to the edge as he relentlessly rubbed it with his tip until you felt your walls clench onto nothing, your legs shaking as the third orgasm blinded you.

Your eyes were still closed and your mouth was still agape when Carlos thrusted into you, filling you up while your body while still shuddering from your release.

“Oh fuck, Carlos. I can’t…” you moaned.

“Now was that so hard? Was saying my name so hard?” He taunted, his hand pulling in your hair as he started pounding into you, feeling you squeeze your walls around him.

“Say it again.” He rubbed your clit.

This time, you were to far gone to argue, you mind already not thinking of anything besides the way Carlos’ cock was perfectly stretching you out. You just gave him what he wanted, moaning his name as his hips met yours repeatedly im mercilessly thrusts.

“Sounds so good, princesa.” Carlos moaned, giving your ass a slight slap before his hands griped your hips for leverage.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt his cock brush against your g-spot, making you fist your hands.

The sensitivity was starting to catch up to you, making you feel vulnerable under Carlos’ touch as he pounded into you from behind.

You knew you were seconds away from cumming and judging by Carlos’ grunts, he was just as close too. Therefore, you let go, whimpering and softly moaning as Carlos continued his movements until he spilled his load inside you and pulled out.

A minute later, you pulled yourself up to find you clothes but found that Carlos had already picked them up off the floor for you.

“Thanks.” You said as you grabbed them out of his hands. The word hang weirdly between the two of you.

“I don’t hate you, i hope you know.” He calmly said as he pulled his pants back on.

It shocked you for a second but quickly started to make sense. Nothing happened between the two of you that made you hate each other.

“I don’t hate you either but you’re a bit annoying.” You smiled at him and he returned it. That was probably the first time you had ever smiled at each other.

“So, would you allow me to annoy you on a date sometime?” He awkwardly asked, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

It weirded you out that you were considering it. It was even more absurd how quickly you agreed.

“Sure. As long as you act just as annoying.” You joked and he laughed.

“C’mon, we still need to film that tiktok.” You reminded him and he groaned.

“There we go again.” You said with a playful tone as you finished getting dressed and reached for the phone.

It’s safe you say that this one tiktok was the easiest but most interesting to film. How wouldn’t it have been when the two of you weren’t sending each other death glares for the first time ever?

[dykeomania]

it honestly makes me pretty emotional when i think about how comfortable i am with my sexuality because like as someone who grew up with a mom who has highly unproductive, southern baptist christian ideologies, the luxury of comfortably embracing my sexuality was never afforded to me growing up. even in high school, i was really sneaky about it. i’ve listened to my mom call my sister slurs, i’ve seen her threaten to kick her out many times, and i remember being like 11 and terrified of telling her that i lowkey was in fact looking up “girls kissing” on our half a core processor family desktop. and now it’s just like, when i zoom out of my life, im very blessed to look and see that i’m an independent, extremely gay woman who is able to comfortably kiss girls at parties, talk about lesbian relationships with my friends, plan on going to lesbian bars and gay bars and what may have you, all of it. i can’t even articulate the amount of times i hurt myself growing up trying to convince myself that i liked men, and i liked exposing myself to them and i liked how they made me feel — i felt disgusting, and tbh that really put a damper on how i understood myself, sexually. so on some sappy shit, like, i don’t think i ever truly became myself and got over a lot of that until i kissed another woman. to this day i don’t talk to my mom about my sexuality and really she doesn’t need to know who i’m fucking but she picks up on it and she still tells me that there’s time to repent. and you know what, there probably still is but i think 75+ years worth of pussy and soft touches and smelling a girl’s shampoo when her face is in the crook of my neck after a sexual experience that actually made sense, is worth whatever the hell comes after

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/23/2024

listen i got my last job through one of youse on here so weirder things have happened: i got fired bc the nonprofit wasn’t doing so hot. let me know if you have a weird data/database or market/tech research job. i promise my worksona is so so so nice and pleasant to work with. remote only, looking more in the $75k range but can be a bit flexible if it’s a cool enough job, i am in the central time zone of the USA and will not need sponsorship anywhere but DO need the cadillac of healthcare and dental plans. portfolio, publication list, and linkedin with my government name available on request!

listening

both of these are from my sister! this is another FULL ALBUM rec (good lord). The Offline’s album La couleur de la mer is a soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t exist, inspired by his long walks in the fog on the French Atlantic coast. a little spacey, a little soul, very sixties/seventies neonoir. i am quite fond of the very first track, Thème de la couleur de la mer.

she’s also sent me a bunch of tiktoks with Perfect (Exceeder) by Mason and Princess Superstar. hell of a goddamn music video for this thing. mid-aughts clubbing music at its finest. stopped me from dissolving into a puddle of emotions on the way to and from the vet today bc it’s too goddamn bouncy to be sad around

reading

im reading a trilogy i want to discuss as a whole whenever the third one comes through as a library hold, and a book by a friend. i do not typically talk about books or fics by friends here bc none of them have ever asked for critique, and i dont want to play favorites or inadvertently miss someone’s work. so here’s a story about porn on Wikimedia, which is the kind of database drama and technical arguments that fascinate me.

given the number of articles from 404 Media i shout about here and elsewhere i really should sign up for their $5/mo subscription tier when i have a steady income again

watching

somehow missed Star Wars Visions 2, their second anthology of weird little shorts. i was not super impressed by the overall storytelling this time around, but it was fun to see them reach out to more global studios and see a wider range of styles. there’s some goddamn incredible stop motion in here.

i particularly enjoyed Journey to the Dark Head, which not only has some interesting fringe Force believers and beliefs but has one of the sickest anime bullshit lightsaber fights in this season. this one is by Studio Mir, most known for the Legend of Korra.

also really liked The Spy Dancer by Studio La Cachette, partly bc it’s incredibly beautiful and i like when Star Wars leans into art nouveau, and partly bc it felt the most like a complete short story. emotional arc and everything! strong beginning middle and end! this IS a really low bar, but a lot of the shorts this season did not have a coherent little story to tell or a strong emotional arc, or fumbled their arc partway through, and were just kind of vibes and animation showcases? nothing necessarily wrong with that, also how i felt about most of the last collection. my expectations are underground for any Star Wars media.

playing

as is tradition i dithered about this section the most. this is more of a What’s Next? planning ramble.

the laptop gets shipped back to my old job today so i will no longer have a working modern computer. i have to dig the switch out and see what’s up. maybe start a whole new run in breath of the wild or whatever the last pokemon game was. i think i also have the sword boyfriend game everyone was up in arms about two years ago? and i think i am somehow part of a switch family plan that lets me have some older games?

this section may look very different in the next ??? amount of time until i get a company laptop again. or finally replace the motherboard on my personal desktop but that sat in my car for several weeks during the heat wave this summer while i did not have an apartment and i am really REALLY afraid to open that box.

oh the free epic game this week is a platformer, a genre i have historically not cared about. godspeed to those of you who do

making

soup bc aldi had alphabet pasta and that jolted me out of myself for long enough i was briefly convinced making alphabet pasta soup would fix me. so i found this recipe while in aldi. despite this not being a very good soup or a very good recipe, i feel a little triumphant bc i now know enough to brown the tomato paste before putting it in the soup. unfortunately i overcooked the pasta. there’s kind of a lot of texture happening here, and i wish i had chopped things finer, but i will probably steal my best friend’s blender tomorrow and blitz some of it down.

it’s edible. im going to eat it all. it will not be going in the rotation

[borzoilover69]

> BORZOI: READ HOMESTUCK LIKE ITS 2011 (PART 3)

We are so fucking back. (4178)

Idiot captchalogued things one by one point and LAUGH. One soup can. One bullet. Bro would be horrible at unpacking.

Never getting over the fact how damn much Jake mentions Dirk in only the FIRST FEW PAGES that we meet him properly like damn dude you got something going with him or what..

And he seems so insistent on finding answers, even if its just backing up his own conclusions, rather than Janes stubborn pushing of the point. This is semi-tragic. Knowing that in their time, they were never considered heroes, but lords.

4184 YOU. *grips and shakes you* STOP IMPLYING FLIRTING YOU DARN QUEERS. Jake just CAAASUALLY mentioning how much he compliments strider, Dirks ar (but in this case a pretty accurate representation of Dirk) just CAASUALLY MENTIONING THAT THEY'VE DONE THIS TANGO BEFORE LIKE HELLOO?? FLUSTERED AMBIVALENCE? HAH??

Iconic line.

I need to think on this for a while. Speaking wise that's true, I'm sure it's fooled his friends before when Dirk just didnt want to talk. I'm rather fond of how Dirk and Jake call each other out on being annoying and hard to work with. Because they are, but that's what makes their relationship all the funnier and real to me LOL. They're ribbing at each other in a way that motivates each other to one up because they. They get it i guess. Thinking now, I don't like relationships where it's just adoration and softness... Nah i want them to beat the crap out of each other. I like ot think they used to bitch at each other for HOURS as kids, but all in good favour.

This idiot is changing from the casual to the formal desktop point and LAUGH. But also it brings up another strange contradiction where Jake "catches on" without being actually.. told to catch on.

From page 4183: You put on a few of your more ostentatious devices. Luckily (or unfortunately) you grew up alone, so there was never anyone around to point out how ridiculous you look.

And then from page 4186

You shed this ridiculous outfit because you look like an idiot. It's time to get serious here. 

Maybe I'm reading too into it. I probably am. But it always astound me the awareness Jake has to some degree. I deadass want to get in his head and mess with his brain a little to see what's up. Its like he'll always go "Oh cool, neato, its this thing!" and then go "This thing is fucking stupid" later. From what im gathering >HUSKTOP: Clunky, too hands on. Good for casual use and movies (I'm assuming)

>COMPUTER OUTFIT? Comfortable, but it looks stupid. And an idiot.

>SKULLTOP: A real businessmans computer. Probably one of the most used ones of the bunch and the ire of Jakes shitty vision.

Also I just got done reading this conversation AGAIN, and I remeber in my previous reading, someone commented that they always took it as Jake defending the autoresponder, but if anything other than Dirk hes probably the most frustrated with it at times outright putting it down and demeaning its presumedly simulated built on feelings, which Hal will proceed to call him out on MULTIPLE times. Which backs up my conclusion that he knew Dirk really just didn't like the thing. My boyfriend saw me reading this out and said something along the line of "Jake has libra coding they can't bring up their point w/o including a third party in the matter" or something. It was a few days ago. I don't know zodiacs so take that as you will.

Along with this, I guess I see where Jakes frustration is coming from, this guy is running on canned food, frustration at being taunted and poked at by Dirks ruddy autoresponder, and he has no times for japery and lighthearted fun from Jane gadzooks hes on a mission!!

4189

There it is again!! That- *waves hands* THAT KIND OF KNOWLEDGE!! YOU SCALLIWAG!! HOWD YOU DRAW THAT CONCLUSION?? HOOOW DID YOU DO IT WITH SUCH LITTLE EXPLAINATION OR BACKING HOW DID YOU FUCKING KNOW?? LIKE JANE WAS FUCKING VAGUE AS SHIIIT ABOUT IT AND YOU JUMPED TO.. THAT CONCLUSION?? WHAT IS YOUR DEAL??

4190

You telling me they slept in the same house together dawg i thought Brobot powered off somewhere remote. Arguably a stupid conclusion but I FORGOT its been a while OKAY.

Operation U-235 Brocurement. Codename: Big Man Hass the Rock.

Heh.

I mean it's reasonable. Given growing up in a hellmurder island, defeat can equal great bodily harm or even death, being cautious about getting too far outside of your comfort zone and quote being a hero endquote will kill you.

A lot of people fail to realise how Jake was affected by living in such circumstances because it just comes down to gungho boy wonder who loves adventure!! And is. A coward. When flight is the thing separating you from living to dying etc, it can affect a lot of life choices like that. For example, hes perfectly up for the idea of plundering tombs, because its territory hes familiar and accustomed to. But he doesnt deal with being tossed a curveball or into new circumstances well.

And yet again Hal brings up a good point. If you bank on victory or defeat and not about the journey it gets to take there which leaves you stranded at the starting line overcompensating for the lack you never worked hard to make, you won't get anywhere, which is why Page class suits him well. Dirk and Jake have this thing in common where they are often too future thinking to the point of being narrow minded, they think they're being realistic when realistically.. these personal pursuits are needed to be fought with undying human spirit so as to conquer and further their self journeys.

Like yes, there's always the prospect of failure. Dirk feels resigned, doomed to the fact he will turn out terrible and therefore he should fuck off. Jake feels daunted by the task of actually living up to the expectations he feels are built upon him by his friends and himself, and chooses to isolate himself rather than build on the hope that maybe he can be known and loved regardless, and acknowledge the hurt he may undoubtedly cause. But with every prospect of failure comes a prospect of success and sure being resigned to failure doesn't hurt but even so you should still strive and claw your way to a happy ending otherwise whats it worth more than pointless self suffering and guilt? Because if you look at it everything is doomed everything is going to fail or fall out of touch eventually but if you turn it on its head, you see that means that unequivocally for a brief moment in time everything will be okay, that bad things will turn out for the better (somehow) in the end. It's the chicken and the egg question, which came first? It's a neverending circle. I got carried away there. Whoops. Anyways.

"Thing". He doesn't acknowledge him as a person it's a "thing".

So you, Jake english (totally straight guy) decree the brobot as bane of your existence (its your company in this hellscape) and is pointed out that you can CHANGE that, that is something YOU can control, that has been brought up to you MULTIPLE times by your BEST FRIEND by his AUTORESPONDER and yet you REFUSE to change it because when given it too easy it feels almost. Almost..tender you say? You proceed to get flustered and.. change the subject? Boy. Boy speak to me boy. You are COMPLICIT in your own downfall because you hate it being too easy, you FEAR it being too easy. For what?

Look at him go.

4195

Hopefully your dad is still out back washing the car. Ideally this is one of his legendary infinite car washes. What can you say? Dad fancies his automotive ablutions.

4191

GT: Man where IS he anyway??? GT: Is he taking one of his legendary infinite showers? TT: What can I say. TT: Dude fancies his ablutions.

4195

While he is preoccupied, you should be able to sneak downstairs and grab the mail undetected. The perfect crime? You bet.

You slip the HALLWAY CERA a furtive wink for good luck.

Jane you are the silliest girl to ever grace this earth never ever drop your dramatics and joyous whimsy. Your relationship with your father is endearing and sweet. Given this it's a safe bet to say Johns would've mimicked this, its just nice to see a pretty sweet goddamn family.

4199 Imagine walking downstairs and seeing this of course their families cant be reasonably normal about anything.

And another sort of outward representation of struggle with the kids environment. With how harsh and how thoroughly restricted Jane is in her household, despite being so far up she might as well just serve as a figurehead to the cooking empire than of anything remote. All backdoors, front doors, windows are closed, which also draws to her general ignorance to actual things. You could even say shes.. whats the word? Oh yes. trapped. In her views. Yes. *The crowd starts seething at me as I click my little device to change slides.*

4202 READY FOR WHAT??

YES, I am going out with this book! No, I will not go get an unabridged copy! No, I will not take yours! I can hardly even lift it! Oh, that is so preposterous. Do you even hear what you're saying? I will be fine! This is a perfectly funny book and it contains many incredibly funny jokes! Oh, will you just stop it. I am going now. Good day!!!

4207

Do you think this was the mystery of johns childhood that he could never solve. Do you. Cus i do. He didn't have a nanna he was raised by the condesce.

The message has always been a fascinating mystery to you, and probably was to him as well. From the way it's written, it seems it was intended for him to receive after her death. She talks about a journey he is supposedly meant to go on. 

In any case, this message to poppop from his sweet old nanna is the best evidence you have to dispute all this evil batterwitch nonsense. She clearly cared for her grandson very much, and would never start a company responsible for the things it's accused of, let alone be alive today to perpetrate them. But then, what if she wasn't the one who wrote it? This thought makes you very nervous.

Big ole fucking SIGH. And he was never able to get that faaar at all. With that in mind I'd be interested to see anyone analyse the post scratch versions of the betas. Would John Crockers deal deem him a failure to his classpect? What about the others? I don't know, food for thought.

4215

Damn. Ok well I just reached the end of an image allowance so i guess. I wrap up here?

GG: I care very much for you, and I don't know what I'd do if I lost you both in my dreams, and here in this world. GG: So for whatever good it does, just please be extra careful out there today! GT: Roger that janey! GT: And um same goes for you about being careful what with these various rogues accosting you with foul play lately and whatnot... GT: Because well i sure do care a lot about you too you know that. GG: Hooray! Will do. ;B GG: Now let's get this silly old adventure off to the races before the coat of dust it's growing gets any thicker. GT: Booyeah! GT: Ok good luck jane and keep me posted! C ya.

Yet another goddamn reminder that they give a whole fucking damn about each other.

[emwritesstuff]

DYNAMO | Steve Rogers x Reader | part 2.

HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.

AO3 | Masterlist | Playlist (coming soon!)

notes: part 2 is up! I've had this written for a while and I didn't want to wait to post hehehe. Not a lot of Steve interaction this time around though, just getting the plot going &lt;/3 (warnings: mentions of human experimentation, violence, cursing) (2.5K words)

2: CONDUCTIVE ACCORDS

“So, I’ve been thinking about what that thing you asked me,” Natasha slides on a stool next to Steve, and he raises one eyebrow at her, silently waiting for her to elaborate. He asks her lots of things, all the time. “on the girl with the electric powers. And then I remembered something.”

She opens the laptop she’s brought with her, and Steve feels dizzy by the lack of, well, anything, in her desktop area. He’s aware she has a meticulously crafted system, and that it never fails her, because she is Natasha Romanoff. But come on. There’s not even a Google Chrome on there.

After a couple of clicks a PDF is up on the screen. Medical records, and a picture attached. Yeah, that’s her alright-- he could spot that intense gaze anywhere.

He reads her name on the top of the page and tests it on his tongue.

“Or…A-7463. They refer to her mostly like this, anyway. She was part of an experiment to get people into manipulating energy.”

“Seems like they were successful.” He’d know. His body was still recovering from that.

“Almost…They wanted an army.” Natasha scrolls down, and more pictures come into view. They all have a bright red VERSAGEN stamp over the pages. Failures.

Kids.

That makes Steve grimace. “She was the only one who survived.”

“Yes. And when I came across these for the first time I thought--”

Steve’s head whips to Natasha’s face. His eyebrows meet at the center of his face.

“You knew? You kept this from us?”

“Well, it didn’t seem relevant—"

“An enhanced HYDRA agent walking around free isn’t relevant?”

“She’s not so much an agent – she’s more of a victim, don’t you think?” Natasha sighs, and closes the laptop. Steve perks up in his stool, staring down at her, even though he knew damn well that intimidation tactic wouldn’t work. But he wants her to know that he’s angry.

A victim. She didn’t seem like a victim when he was writhing on the ground like a fish out of water.

But those cries of pain he heard then weren’t his. His jaw was too busy being clenched shut to utter any sound.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to feel sympathy for the girl—woman, actually; from her files she is around 23 something now.

She’s HYDRA, still. And hasn’t turned herself over to justice. There was something off about it, Steve could feel it even though he couldn’t pinpoint it exactly.

“And I figured they’d have eliminated her already.” That brings Steve out of his own thoughts. She had been slipping through everyone’s fingers, then – and that was intriguing.

Maybe they could get her to collaborate. Take down HYDRA once and for all. Smash all the heads, burn all the tentacles to a crisp. From the inside, or at least with an insider on their court.

Even though their first impression was less than positive.

“We should take this to Fury and the others.”

“As if we needed another one of those.”

“Tony—”

“No, no, let ‘im talk, Natasha. Those what?” Bucky plants both hands – one human, one a prototype – on the table in front of him.

“Those—”

“Will this ever stop…” Steve shoots a sympathetic look at Wanda, though Tony’s remarks were never directed at her.

“Those what, Stark?”

Since Bucky Barnes had moved into the Avengers compound with the rest of them, his and Tony’s bickering had become a constant. They revel in civility until Tony decides he’s bored and it all begins again.

“Okay, children, you can stop now.” Fury drops a manila folder on the table – theatrics, because he never opens it, and instead uses a controller to turn on a screen behind him right after. It works though, as all of them turn to look at him. Steve rests his chin in his hand.

The face of a young A-7463 is up on the screen, staring right at him once again. A mystery wrapped inside a challenging gaze. Steve’s need to figure out just what she wanted and who she was grew more every time he looked at her.

Wouldn’t you like to know, Cap.

“…so we make her an offer she can’t refuse: freedom in exchange of information. Of course, with the bonus of not letting another superhuman on the loose.”

“Temporary and conditional pardon isn’t really freedom, Fury.”

“Well not everyone is as lucky as you, Barnes.” Bucky clenches his jaw at the same time Steve does his.

But it’s different. Bucky was a prisoner of war. He was forced into it. Who’s to say which side the girl was really on.

And those powers… she could be dangerous. Taking her down would probably need all their forces combined. They all agreed on that, at least.

But the plan was set: find her, convince her to cooperate in exchange of a conditional. Keep the girl and her powers under their watch and their control.

Finding her would be Natasha’s job. Steve and Sam would play the diplomatic part. Or they’d try.

He had a feeling that would be the hard part. Maybe they should cause a power outage in the vicinity just in case.

A-7463.

He thinks about your name again. It’s fitting for a hurricane, and he’s about to walk right into it.

There’s something humorous about having blue hair when you have electric powers.

Your hair is dyed a deep indigo now – and it should make you easier to spot in any normal circumstances, but not in Los Angeles, it doesn’t. This specific shade of blue was sold out in all of the Sally’s you walked in. So, like the sensible person you were, you broke into an apartment and stole a jar of it. You know, as you do.

The good thing about this city is that there were plenty of empty apartments for you to stay in – granted, most of them were just arranged to look livable, but a couch is a couch and for a night, that’s enough for you. 

It’s not like you can rent an AirBnb.

Your mousey life has been going okay so far – since meeting Captain America over a week ago, you managed to stay lowkey, powers included. A blackout in L.A. would be a dead giveaway.

The balmy air of the city fills your lungs and clings to your skin as you munch on the other half of the burrito you got for lunch. You haven’t been able to eat much these days—something about the migraines left you with barely enough energy (ha) to keep yourself alive.

You’d never thought you’d miss the devils in lab coats and gas masks, but you almost do. It’s hard doing it yourself, and you don’t have the access to the drugs they used.

The view is pretty from the top of the building you’re sitting on, all windows and lights and cars going up and down the elevated highways. It’s nice. You wonder what New York would look like, but you don’t have the guts to go up there. Too close.

“Nice view you got there.”

A woman’s voice makes you jump and drop your food on the floor. You groan in frustration, but your breath gets caught up in your throat when the red hair comes into your line of vision.

Natasha Romanoff.

She’s leaning casually against the door that leads to the staircase down, and you know it’s to stop you from getting to it.

“Smart move with the hair. I almost got to three other people before finding you.”

You shrug, but inside you feel a little spark of pride.

“You made me drop my dinner.”

“Sorry about that. Although half a burrito barely sounds like dinner to me. I’ll buy you a decent meal—if you agree to sit and talk to me.”

The offer was tempting, and Romanoff’s face made you want to trust her. You were starving, really, until the realization that she was going through an effort to keep that expression on made you take a step back and your appetite vanish.

“Not hungry. And I’m not really a conversational kind of girl.”

“We have a proposition you might be interested in.”

“An apartment behind bars? Rogers already made that,” Casually averting your eyes back to the skyline, you begin scanning the horizon for the rest of them.

“They’re not here. Relax.”

“Lie.”

“Yes and no. They came with me, but they’re not close enough to ambush you.”

You don’t miss how she skirted around the actual reason she was here – a proposition. Bullshit.

“Right.”

“Not that I think they couldn’t—but they won’t. Trust me.” Her voice sounds much closer than before, and you turn your head to meet her intense gaze as your hairs stand on end. She’s sizing you up; you know her methods.

You had classes on all of them before you got out.

A former field of study standing right in front of you, casually inviting you for dinner. You wonder if she knows you feel like you’re caught in a mousetrap.

“Should I?”

Natasha chuckles lightly. “Not if you’re smart. Now, I am dying for that Pho across the street, so I’m heading there. Offer stands until I walk out that door, and I’m not leaving without you. Noodles or handcuffs, take your pick.” She sighs as you square your shoulders and keep looking ahead. You can hear the creak of the door at the same time your stomach rumbles.

Oh, screw it. Might as well take your chances.

“Wait—” You catch up with her a second before the door closes. When in Rome.

Well, L.A.

Turns out the choice between food or handcuffs wasn’t one. You inhaled the Pho like it was your first meal in days, because it kind of was, and then you got your wrists bound behind you on the next.

There was just a little scuffle in the middle.

Honestly, it wasn’t your fault; Captain America and the Falcon descended on you just as you were leaving the restaurant, your belly still warm from the food.

All you managed was a snarl as you leaped away from the three and gathered the block’s electricity on your body. One by one the lamps were out, and your face was illuminated by the familiar blue glow.

Captain America’s shield deflected your first blast before being hurled in your direction, lodging itself on the wall behind you. The next hit him right on the chest. Your lips curled into a smirk.

And then the energy vanished from your hands. As if evaporated into the air.

Groaning, you concentrated on bringing it back and directing yourself to your second target. Spots filled your vision, and your head felt like it was being split open.

It was a fraction of a second, and the Falcon took it. He knocked you over your middle and handcuffed you. And that was the end of it. You vision was too blurry to react and you had to make an effort to keep yourself conscious. The lights returned to the street. Shit.

Your powers are unreliable, you know as much. And now here you are, being strapped into a high-tech aircraft by none other than Mr. America himself.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

They had finally shared what the proposition was.

You could be arrested. Or you could be arrested, but with a pretty bow on top.

“You don’t have a third choice here. This the most generous we’ve been to anyone ex-hydra.”

“Except for Barnes.” Rogers clenches his jaw, now even more pissed than he was by your swearing. “Pity you and I are not besties then.”

His hairs are still unruly from your energy blast, and it makes you smirk. No hair gel is invincible.

Natasha must have caught a wave of it too, because you notice her usually impeccable hair a little bit frizzy. You almost feel bad – she did buy you dinner, after all.

There’s something almost empathetic to her demeanor, but it must be to break your resistance. Good cop, bad cop, as they say. You’re honestly surprised Rogers is the bad one this time.

He must really hate HYDRA. And so do you.

Thing was, you were kept in the dark on most of their operations. You didn’t even know where your base was until you escaped from it: two days away from civilization across the frozen tundra.

And this felt like walking back to it, except with a government issued name.

“I don’t know all these things about them like you think I do,” You start, and you meet eyes with Sam Wilson.

“We’ll take whatever you got.” He’s frowning, as if he’s undecided about you.

“And then let me go.”

“You will be pardoned. But you’ll stay at the compound for the time being.”

That’s that pretty bow on top.

However long or what would be done with you after said pardon, no one was willing to make that clear.

“That’s a shit deal. Prison or prison! Who did you guys learn to negotiate with, the Russian mob?” You squirm on your seat, but the cuffs on your wrists and ankles are tight. Your powers nowhere to be found. All that lab fuckery for nothing.

“You’ll see the living conditions are pretty good there.” Natasha arguments. “And we have a pretty damn good doctor that can figure out whatever’s going on with you.”

You look at her like a deer caught in the headlights. You’ve always thought she had no special powers, but now you’re wondering if she can read minds.

All three of them are staring at you now.

“Your nose is bleeding.” She explains it, and you hastily wipe it on your shoulder. There goes your last good hoodie. “And I read your file. We did.”

Your file. She has your file, the thing you’ve been looking for, the answers you need.

As if on cue, the pounding on your head returns. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back and knock softly against the wall. All you wanted was to just live. No stupid powers. No running. No Avengers, no HYDRA, no migraines and nosebleeds. The boring life everyone complains about.

You didn’t want to waste away while your own body turned against you, mad someone tampered with it until things went haywire.

The promise of a solution at last makes you go quiet. 

“Fine. The Avenger Disneyland it is.”