#nothing else was going to fit with the acronym

[sushirrrry]

would love to see a blurb about best friend harry thinking yn’s boyfriend doesn’t deserve her and accidentally confesses his feelings for her

bound a harry styles one-shot blurb; 7.2k words cw: fluff fluff and more fluff

When Harry had booked this trip, there were three things that he was looking forward to.

One of them was the open bar that their friends—the new Mr. and Mrs. Moxley—would be providing to them, which would include a couple gin and tonics too many.

The second was the beachfront room that he had scored from the credit card points he had expertly racked up the past few months, especially for this trip to Barcelona for his friend’s wedding. He thought he had scored a pretty good deal.

The third was seeing Cassidy for a weekend straight.

While the two of them lived in the same city, they were walking different paths at the moment, which had never been them. There were nights that they met for dinner, almost like nothing had changed. But Harry lived in South London; he had been working long nights in the museum, Cassidy was on the opposite side of the city working at her accounting position she had taken recently.

Both hadn’t had each other’s undivided attention in quite some time, and Harry was looking forward to the possibility of having that again. The kind of attention, the kind of laughs and indescribable joy that they had both needed—he was sure of it.

If there was one thing that he knew about Cass, it was that she was sprinting on the plane to get the vacation she had been looking forward to.

Plus, neither of them had a plus-one this time around.

That meant that it was just the two of them, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk every time he thought of it. Undivided attention.

Harry had thrown on a linen suit for the welcome party; the night before the wedding. He had started to unpack his room, trying to pass the time before he knew that Cass would arrive. Once he heard a buzzing on his phone, his head lifted from looking down into his suitcase and towards the device on the duvet.

If there was one thing Harry was going to do on his vacation, it was unpack the entirety of his suitcase before doing anything else.

iddy: smyf

The small acronym ‘show me your fit’ made him smile before he noticed a few more texts rolling in, the dots precursing them on the phone.

iddy: for tonight, not right now. I should have clarified. Please don’t send a pic of your penis

iddy: someone has to make sure I’m not overdressed. How do you dress for a pre-wedding dinner

The panic over the texts was exactly how Harry knew Cassidy; she worried over small things but overlooked the bigger picture. It was a small, miniscule flaw, really.

But before he’s able to even move towards the large mirror in his bathroom, his phone vibrates again. His attention is grabbed by the way that his eyes move over the image that comes in, rather than the words he had been reading from her.

And something about it made him stop in his tracks on his own way to show her what he had looked like.

Something about the way that she held the phone up to the mirror, giving a small pout—a playful one, as if unsure of herself. The way that the wisps of her hair were around her face, but the rest was pulled back by a clip—he was certain of it. She didn’t like having her hair down if she could help it.

Harry swallowed in the comfort of the room, almost like he was trying to keep himself from getting caught in the moment, even when no one was around. His eyes flew over the soft baby blue of the dress, the way that it dipped down, just a bit.

The way that the color danced over her tanned skin; maybe even a bit red from the sun he was certain that she had taken apart in as soon as they hopped off the plane. Harry knew that she bathed in the sun whenever it came out in London; she wouldn’t have gotten burned there, though.

There were dainty cream flower details—maybe stitching, even—on the dress as he zoomed in to get a better look at it.

His thumb cruised over the message, writing out a message before he pressed send.

Harry: good thing you told me not to send you a pic of my penis! Was about to!

Harry: also, you look beautiful, c

He frowned when she sent another message.

iddy: ok but am I overdressed

Harry: no, see

Harry held his phone up to the mirror as she had done to him—as they had done for one another many times before. But something about the way he looked in it bothered him for a moment. He fixed his hair, running his hand through it, almost to make sure that it looked much better than usual. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit before he sent the picture through to her.

The cream suit was opened, a white shirt settled underneath it. He wore a pair of his favorite white sneakers that fit like a glove, even a bit scuffed—but he felt that that balanced the outfit.

When he sent the photo, he waited a moment for Cass to send something back. But it felt like the longer he stared, the more pressure he felt to not see the grey dots coming back on the screen.

He bit the inside of his lip, waiting patiently before he locked the phone and slid it down into his pocket.

Instead of worrying about that, Harry checked his watch to see that it was closing in on six-thirty– which meant that he was fashionably late to the six o’clock time for the dinner.

He spritzed a bit more cologne, checked his teeth in the mirror, and pushed the bunches of curls off of his forehead that he meant to get cleaned up before coming on this trip but simply losing track of time.

He grabbed his wallet– hoping to not lose it or need it– and walked out of the hotel room door, down towards the lobby where he figured everyone would be gathering. He figured he'd take the long way, walking through some groups of people until he saw a grand staircase to lead down into the lobby area.

Harry figured that he would walk that way, down towards the main area where some familiar faces had collected for cocktail hour and drinks. His eyes maneuvered around, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Cass in any capacity.

Walking down the stairs, he saw Mari and Logan– the bride and groom– and greeted both of them accordingly. Mari and Harry had worked together back at uni, so they had become close friends. There may have been a night or two when Harry and Mari actually went home together, but they chalked that up to some consensual stress release.

When she started dating Logan, they started to hang around everyone more– which then included Cassidy. They would all go out together to the pubs after classes and had become really great friends since then. It was no surprise that this kind of event would bring them all together again.

“Have you guys seen Cass yet?” Harry asked, looking around. “I haven't seen here since she got here. She texted me but didn't get a response.”

Mari looked at him a bit suspiciously before turning to Logan for a moment. “Didn't you guys RSVP together?”

Harry looked up at her for a moment, shaking his head.

“No– I mean, no, I didn't respond with her name or anything. Did she do that for me?” He had thought that he marked one salmon meal and that was it.

Mari bit her lip as she blinked at him a few times. “No, but she RSPV’d a plus one, I think. Or she said something a few months ago– it's a bit fuzzy, but she told me she was coming with someone else. I– I mean, I was certain it would be you.”

Harry’s smile faltered just a bit before he shook his head, the hands in his pockets had turned to fists as he turned to look around him. Wondering if he'd lay eyes on her or watch her holding hands with another guy.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen that before, but the excitement of seeing her for the first time in a while was slowly dwindling before he turned his head for what felt like the millionth time looking for her.

But this time, his vision landed on her. The rosy colored glasses that he saw her threw was starting to dim as the picture got a bit blurry.

The baby blue dress that fell just below her knees, the dip in the front. The silky material hung on her body, but his eyes stood on the hand that hand firmly on her waist as if to keep her tucked into him.

His greatest fears becoming reality as he looked up the girl giggling at a probable reasonable remark.

Cassidy took a break from her schoolgirl giggling to see Mari and Logan standing there, looking at her and the person practically wrapped around her. But when looked up to see that Harry had also been standing right there, a sudden course of fear trembled through her.

Fear was a strong word; worry was more like it.

She had known how Harry was, which is why she kept this a secret from him. Now, he was forced to get to know her boyfriend of three months because they were here on their own accord for a weekend. They would spend it together, having each other in their lives for a weekend. That's what he had requested, and what she could agree to.

He had promised her that– even if he hadn't realized that had included this moment right here, yet.

“Hi, guys!” Cass put on her smile, a gorgeous one that pushed the dimples on her chin forward. “Mari, you look so beautiful!”

The girls wove into a hug, Harry standing and staring at the man who had let Cassidy go– looking a bit as if he was uncomfortable at letting someone else touch her. His eyes stayed on them as Cassidy pulled back and moved onto Logan, congratulating them on the whole marriage thing.

It was like she was taking a moment before she would get to him. She looked at Mari’s ring, gushing about how beautiful it was and she beautiful she looked.

Her eyes reached Harry’s then, a sheepish smile on her face before she pushed her arms out to wrap her arms around him, one over his shoulder and the other around his ribs.

“It's so good to see you.” She commented; he wanted to say something back but the comfort of her made his face retreat into the slot of her shoulder and neck.

When they pulled away, he got a real look at her and gave her the smile she had been waiting to see.

“So glad you're here.” He told her before feeling like a blush had intermittently taken its place in his cheeks.

Their connection had faded a moment before she paused; she took a breath and stepped back before remembering the man who stood behind them.

“Guys, this is–“ She looked up at him, “This is Dalton. We've been seeing each other for a few months, and just thought it would be so good to introduce him here since we're all here.”

Harry had to try to remember to release the fists in his pocket before he would go to shake his hand.

“Dalton, this is Mari and Logan– the bride and groom,” She introduced, letting him shake their hands and give their respective hello’s, followed by congratulations and thanks. But then she turned to Harry, Dalton’s composure changing a moment before he watched Harry’s change too.

Cassidy felt small between them as she stares at the way they faced one another.

“Uh, Dalton, this is my friend, Harry. Harry, this is Dalton.”

Harry lets one of the sides of his face turn up in a smile before he reaches out to be the better person. “Best friend, actually. Nice to meet you.”

Cassidy looks at Harry, almost giving him a really?

The grip of the man’s hands together feels tense as Dalton gives him a courtesy, “Nice to meet you, too.”

As Cassidy watches the interaction, she notices that the way that Harry stands is taller and fuller—like he’s trying to prove to Dalton that he’s bigger, he’s better—that he could end him in a moment’s notice, if need be. She holds onto Dalton’s arm, practically pulling the man from his trance with trying to overthrow Harry’s dominance.

“Let’s get a drink, shall we?” She offers, giving Harry another grin before Cassidy and Dalton makes their way over to the bar area.

Harry watches tentatively before he notices that Logan and Mari are also a bit in shock by the interaction and the couth that Cassidy had to bring someone into this sacred space, once again. Harry knew how Cassidy felt most days about herself—she looked for the satisfaction of a partner, the confidence boost that having someone on her arm could bring her.

It was reassuring to Harry to think that she could go into a room by herself; owning the space and knowing who she was. That was what he was hoping for in this interaction, but instead, she had to enter with someone else.

And with that, came the idea that the men that Cassidy picked always had a knack for making her the jealous type. Harry could always tell that her reactions became much more aggressive, her body language becoming possessive.

Cassidy wanted to feel like she was the most special girl in the world, and somehow, Harry was always left picking up the pieces of her tortured, stomped on heart after the last guy had decided that she wasn’t good enough. What the men in Cass’ life failed to see, was that her heart was always borrowed, on loan. It was never theirs to keep, because they never nurtured it or regarded it in any sense.

Her kindness had been taken from granted, her will to give was always overused and spent.

Harry knew that his love for Cassidy ran deeper than the deepest oceans, and wider than the largest forests, but something inside of him knew that they were better off as friends. Maybe it was because she was smart, and he figured she would have figured it out by now; the way he looked at her overruled the way he would ogle art painted on canvas, or sculptures tall and mighty.

He was always there with a rose and a smile, standing outside her door after the last guy packed his belongings and left for good.

It was why watching her happy, standing by the bar without a care in the world broke his heart into a million pieces. He knew that he was always there to rescue her, and he could see by the way that the guy stood away from her—maybe even trying to get a glimpse of the other women around him. But Cassidy’s naivety kept her eyes locked on the man instead, her irises shaped like hearts.

Mari and Logan had started a new conversation with another few people, Harry stood with his hands in his pockets as he tried to figure out a course of action. He had figured that the night would be wasted away—quite literally and figuratively—with Cassidy by his side, but now he felt more alone than he had before.

A man with champagne on a tray walked by, and Harry grabbed two flutes. One for each hand. He downed one quickly before he made his way back to the bar where the two of them had been standing before setting one of the glasses down and keeping the other before he noticed that Cassidy had grabbed a glass of red wine—Cab Sav, most likely.

The man—Dalton—held a short, rocks-glass that just had something clear in it, possibly straight vodka, if he was brave.

“So, you really didn’t bring anyone? Haven’t met anyone yet? You’ve usually grabbed a few asses by now,” Cassidy spoke out, moving around Dalton to get closer to Harry. He turned his attention back to her, shaking his head a few times.

“No—I mean, I thought we were just going to hang out. I didn’t know you were bringing someone.” Harry’s eyes flicked up towards Dalton’s before he watched Cassidy bite her lip. The red on her lips had either been from the stain of the wine or the way she bit on her lip; either way, Harry found it to be enticing enough to stare for a beat too long.

“I—I don’t know, I just assumed you would have brought someone with you. Weren’t you seeing someone?”

Harry took a sip from the flute, shrugging casually, “Yeah. But not like, exclusively.”

Cassidy nodded a few times, raising her brows, “Is it ever exclusive with you?”

There was a teasing tone in her voice, but the way that her eyes lifted to investigate his own only made his stomach drop at the intention. Harry felt an incredible sting through his chest as he cleared his throat, almost to wash away the sensitivity that he felt around his heart.

He went to speak, but his lips didn’t seem to let any words leave. Instead, the bartender interrupted as Harry realized that there may have been a small line forming behind them.

Harry, Cassidy, and Dalton moved to the side a bit—all three having their drinks in their hands before they found themselves in a circle of silence. Each taking sips of their drinks before Dalton seemed to make a move of conversation towards Harry, nodding at him.

“So, what do you do for a living, Harry?” He licked over his lips, a tight smile painted on his face before Harry could respond.

“I’m—uh, I’m an art curator. At a small art gallery in London.”

Cassidy chimed in, “Harry has great taste, actually. He’s put together some really great art expos and exhibits.”

“Hm,” Dalton hummed, “Where is the gallery? My parents host charity galas, and we are on the board at the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery.” He chuckles a bit, “I assume you’re not curating there.”

Harry feels the way that his jaw tightens, almost an innate reaction to the way that the man puts him down. Harry pushes his shoulders back before lifting his head. Cassidy looks to Dalton, speaking on Harry’s behalf.

“N-No, it’s—” But she’s interrupted when Harry speaks, then.

“It’s neither of those, no. It’s a bit more modern, helping to lift unknown artists who are looking to make their way into the conversation, which I think it’s very important. Especially now, our worldview is so mirrored by adding such high value to art that never needed it to begin with—art shouldn’t have value like that, in my opinion.” He felt that his tongue had a bit of venom on it when he took a larger sip of the champagne, practically downing that one, as well.

Dalton nodded. “I see. Well, I assume that amateur art wouldn’t have a value like Michelangelo or Vermeer, would they? But I think it’s presumptuous to say that art doesn’t have value. Everything has a price.”

Cassidy took in a breath before she took a large sip of wine; her eyes went to Harry who almost seemed like he would explode at any moment.

“Most things don’t have a price. Nothing has a price, it’s all relative. We, as a society, added price so people of higher status could act like they were better than other people, when it was all a façade to just make them look a bit fancier with their pretty goldleaf vases and Vermeer’s. A Vermeer painting doesn’t hold value to me, anyways.”

Dalton nodded a few times, giving a mock toast to the man in front of him, before he looked down at Cassidy.

“Yeah, that’s quite obvious. Class isn’t a given, it’s inherited. You should see the types of people that try to get their hands on these gala tickets, as if it’s some sort of carnival they can just attend. Half of them don’t have two quid to rub together, and it’s just embarrassing at that point.”

Harry took a step forward before Cassidy realized that his expression meant one of anger. Her arm pushed him back a bit before Dalton recognized the move and his eyes held a gentle smirk of cockiness.

It sat in Cassidy’s throat as she felt the deflation of her confidence. The weekend she had been looking forward to being was diminished quick before her eyes, and all she could do was count on the glass of wine that hadn’t even really been filled halfway.

“What he means is, being exclusive is an honor, and you of all people should know that, I’m sure.” Her eyes drive up to him, and Harry looks at her with that same feeling of hurt that he had felt moments ago by the bar. Harry’s lips parted as he looked at her and felt the subtle sting of her accusation.

Whether or not she meant it as a jab, he wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

“Excuse me, Cassidy,” Dalton chuckles with a hint of a mocking tone, “I can speak for myself, darling. No need to interrupt.”

In just that moment, Harry felt himself push against Cassidy’s arm that had been subtly holding him back with no force other than the small barrier of her shoulder. The small push sent Cassidy off balance, which in turn allowed the slosh of wine to knock around her glass.

“And who are you to talk to her like that?” Harry questioned; his eyes now centered on Dalton as his brow knit together. “Fuck off with that, will you?”

“Bloody hell,” Cassidy gasped out, her eyes dropping to the small amount of wine that covered the hardwood floor underneath them—small droplets of the red wine were coating the bottom of her dress; only enough for her to notice, really, but her eyes narrowed at the floor.

Harry and Dalton both turned to her then, Harry’s eyes dropping to the way that she held her dress up to get a bit of a better glimpse of the stain.

“Oh, fuck, Cass. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that. Hey, I’ll clean it up—” Harry moves towards her, his hand holding at her bicep to help keep her balance.

“Good work, mate.” Dalton eyed Harry, who felt the need to clench his fists again. He did so rather quickly, trying to get the feeling of anger to subside for the moment so that he could focus on Cassidy in the moment.

“It’s fine—really, I just want to make sure it doesn’t stain. I—let me go back to my room, I think I have a stain stick.” She lifts her head to look at before she starts to move out of the small space.

“Let me help,” Harry offers, starting to follow behind her. It feels like an opportunity to take—the two of them alone for just a moment so that he can gauge how she’s really feeling about Dalton and this whole situation. The first few minutes of him have Harry already written off, and he knows the type of person she needs to be with should never be one to talk over her.

“No—Harry, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” She says quickly before she feels Dalton’s hand on her, as if to help guide her.

“I can help, darling.” He tells her, “Don’t worry about it. We can buy you a new one, if it’s too bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes and practically gags at the way he speaks to her. As if Cassidy couldn’t buy her own, for herself. He watches as he feels that Cassidy may be a bit overwhelmed by the two of them staring at her, knowing that they’re both fighting for her attention and affection.

The look on her face suggests as such before she look at Harry and blinks a few times, noticing that he had started to back off a bit. Not that he really wanted to, but knowing her, she didn’t want all the attention on her at once.

Harry downed the rest of the champagne, leaving the flute on a small table before Cassidy knit her brows and shook her head. “Actually, Harry— can you help? Your mum’s stain trick always seems to work. I can’t remember, though.”

His eyes float to Dalton who seems a bit taken aback by her push to have Harry go up to her room with her instead.

Harry nods a few times, watching as Dalton goes to speak, but Cassidy reassures him. “I’ll be right back, okay? We won’t be long.” She hands the man her wine glass, only a quarter full now, as most of it had landed on the sandy wood floors.

It’s then that the two of them take off towards the elevator. Cassidy has a bit of a stomp in her step, almost like she’s making sure that her and Harry aren’t in direct line so he can’t speak to her. The fits of anger that bubble in her chest is unexplained as she goes to press the elevator button to go upwards. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stares at the way that the light changes to go upwards.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Cassidy speaks out, a bit quietly as if to just think her thoughts—not say them outwardly.

“C’mon, Cass, he's got the ego of a narcissist and the smile of a Kennedy, you really think a guy like this could be the love of your life? Honestly.” Harry hounded her as they entered the elevator. He reached for the button, but Cassidy was already there, pressing three.

“That's not fair, Harry, you don't know him.” She settled against the wall as she stared at the ceiling, feeling the movement before she held onto the railing behind her. “He’s extremely smart, he’s confident—he knows what he wants. Which I think you and him may not agree on.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment before he looked back at her, knowing she wouldn’t look at him—but knowing that he had to say the words to her.

“But I know you.”

Cassidy shakes her head as if she’d heard that from him before. Something about the mixture of the two men felt familiar with many of the guys she had brought home, or brought to meet Harry, really. She couldn’t figure out if he just couldn’t understand that she was dating this guy—not just sleeping with him. They were forming a connection, but maybe Harry didn’t understand that.

Harry didn’t understand the concept of falling in love was possible, probably because she had never seen that happening. She had never seen Harry madly in love with someone; never seen his heart broken before. She didn’t know if that was a red flag or if that was a person choice that he didn’t allow for himself.

Either way, she wasn’t going to let him ruin her chances at finding it—no matter what his personal opinions were.

“So, why are you putting me through this? C’mon, no one is ever good enough for you. I never said I was going to marry the guy!”

The shuffle of them towards the door to the hotel room increases as Cassidy throws the key against the electronic pad to open the door. Harry follows in quickly behind as she throws her shoes off. Harry makes sure to avoid tripping and falling over them but knows diligently that she takes her shoes off every time she walks through her door—without fail.

He knew that.

“But why waste your time if you won't spend your life with him?” Harry questions, turning on the light in the foyer of the small room that Cassidy and Dalton were sharing. Harry’s eyes tried not to wander as he saw the unfamiliarity of the dark navy suitcase on the floor next to the TV.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t,” Cass answers a bit with a huff as she rustles through her own suitcase to try to find the detergent stick, she had forgotten to throw in her bag, “All I said was I wasn't sure if I would, maybe I will! Also, I can throw that question right back at you, Mr. One-and-Done.”

Harry stands with his hands in his pockets as he knits his brows together at her answer.

“I just don’t think he’s the one, Cass. That’s all I said. You don’t have to insult me, too.”

“No, Harry, that’s not all you said,” She retorts, “You rolled your eyes, you were a bit disrespectful, you—you started like,” She scrunches her nose when she comes back with the detergent stick in his hand as she sits on the edge of the bed. “You were like puffing your chest at him or something—like you were trying to prove a point. Just because he doesn’t share the same opinion as you, doesn’t mean he’s wrong, you know?”

Harry pursed his lips as she had walked by him, feeling that her entrance into the room gave him permission to follow. He didn’t want to pry into her life if he wasn’t invited to.

“I was not puffing my chest at him, that’s ridiculous.”

He took a seat next to her on the bed as she pulled the long dress up just to her knee to try and rub the stain stick over the red wine stain before she dropped the fabric in her lap.

“Yes, you were,” She tells him, “You do that whenever a guy gets too close, like you’re trying to scare them off or something, and it’s bullshit because you don’t even give them a chance.”

“Why would I give them a chance when I can obviously tell that they’re not good for you?”

Cassidy dropped the dress fabric in her lap as she sighed a bit louder, very obviously done with the back and forth where no one would win. Her head turned towards Harry, sitting next to her now. The way that her throat tightened when their eyes met almost immediately threatened her composure.

“You never give them a chance, Harry,” She tells him with honesty in her tone; wanting him to listen to her like he had never listened before. She knew that he was hard-headed, stubborn to say the least. But she knew that when he really knew she was serious, he would back down. “I just want to make this work, okay? He’s a good guy—I promise, he is. And he would make my life comfortable. He’s looking for a wife, a family. He’s looking to settle down. We’re thirty, Harry—I want to have these commitments, even if you don’t.”

“I don’t doubt he’s a good guy, Cass—really, I—” He stops himself as he thinks of all the people he’s made promise’s too over the years, over various occasions, and conversations that he would think back to whenever he caught a glimpse of the green eyes that laid on his now.

Her mum, Barbara. Her younger brother, Antonio. Her best girlfriend from uni, Annabelle.

But her dad, Tony, was the most important for him to honor—considering he knew that he left the planet wanting Cassidy to be in the best hands; he had gotten confirmation from Harry in their last conversation that he would never let someone hurt her. And was loved, there was a guarantee that she would be loved and cherished until the end of time.

There were people in her life that had always looked at Harry as a guide, whether they meant anything by it, but they knew that Harry knew Cassidy better than anyone in the entire world. He had known every detail of her life for the twenty-some years that they had been the best of friends.

But it had always just been there– the best of friends. Saying anything different could change the whole dynamic of what that was.

“What is it? Why do you always do this to me?”

“Why do I always do this to you?” Harry questioned, setting Cassidy back a bit. She stared at him before she felt the way that their connection seemed to have a sense of distance between them. “Cassy, I thought we were going to have a weekend just the two of us. Just like we had been talking about—you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long, we haven’t spent any time together recently. You’re right—we’re thirty now. Life is going to change, but I wanted to have at least one more time where it would just be the two of us to spend laughing and making fun of people like Walton.”

Cassidy fought so hard to not smile at the name Harry gave her date, “Fuck off, you know it’s Dalton.”

“Cass, it doesn’t matter what his name is.” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes, “What matters is that you always do this to me. You always insert this jackass as if to push him in my face and practically tease me with it. And what’s with all the jokes about me being exclusive?”

Cassidy feels her shoulders deflate, her eyes batting a few times before she shakes her head. “I just want you to find the right person, too, and maybe that would make you back from me and my choices just a bit. You think that I would treat a girl you dated like that? You think I would sit there and puff out my chest and try to make my boobs look bigger to make you look at me instead of her?”

Harry shrugs. “If you were jealous enough, I’d hope you would.” He goes to say something else but quickly shakes his head as if to not speak too much.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy tells him, her eyes giving a small up and down motion as she realizes how much space was between them now.

Harry stands up, his hands moving through his hair in a frustrated motion before he goes to stand in front of her at the end of the bed. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you see it? Just because I’m the one with the artistic eye doesn’t mean that I’m the only one who can see art, Cass. You know when we go to the galleries in new cities we travel to, and I really make you look at them? You glance at them and are like, ‘that’s a nice one’ or ‘that’s pretty’. No, I really want you to look at it—and then sometimes it makes you emotional because you can really see the way that the artist has manipulated his wrists to make the kinds of strokes that the brushwork is, or the way that the divot in the sculpture is supposed to look like it’s a flaw, but it’s intentional? And that what you didn’t see before, because you were just glancing, is really there all the time?”

Cassidy looked at Harry who was standing in front of her, his eyebrows knit and his face practically begging for her to see him. He’s begging her to recognize this game that he had been playing wasn’t a game at all, it was just a matter of time. It was a matter of wanting her to see what they could be so that he didn’t have to spell it out.

He didn’t want to push her, but he wanted her to see it for herself. First and foremost, he wanted her to want it as much as he had.

“All I’m seeing is that you’re painting me out to be the bad guy here. All you do cycle through girls like a manic—you’re sleeping with one, you’re stringing one along. You think that’s supposed to entice me?” She asks quaintly, a bit quietly as she shakes her head, looking at Harry who seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he takes in a deep breath to try and get to a level of calmness that fits his demeaner.  

“No, Cass! I just wanted you to see how in love with you I am!” The words that leave his mouth are practically begging, but they leave a sour silence in the room as Cassidy is taken by the tone Harry’s voice; his hands resting on his hips as he finishes the pacing he had been doing.

“Cassidy,” Harry swallowed down the lump that had been sitting in his throat, his voice practically faltering as he shook his head, trying so badly to get through to the words he had been looking for. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. They were never there to stay, okay? That’s why I didn’t look for exclusivity— it was never theirs. I was saving every ounce of my love and my time and my affection for you, and you never reached out to take any of it.”

Her silence hits her for a moment as she sits with her wine-stained dress in her lap on the white, linen sheets before she watches the man in front of her professing all the love and needs to her. She doesn’t feel like she can speak, but her eyes drift down to her lap as she feels all the sudden unable to find the words at all.

“Look—I’m sorry, I—I just can’t see you being with someone like this. And it physically hurts me to see you heartbroken when I know,” Harry pulls his lips into his mouth as he puts his hands on his hips, “I know that guy is going to fucking annihilate you. You’re going to fall in love with him, and he’s going to take it all and run with it. And there I’ll be, standing there, waiting for you to realize what’s been waiting for you this entire time. It’s just bound to happen.”

Cassidy sits with her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip as she feels the threatening of tears to spill from her eyes. She doesn’t understand the overwhelming feeling of the man’s words as she shakes her head, a sad chuckle leaving her throat as she looks up at him.

“He ordered me a pinot noir tonight,” She nods, “Told me that it was the best wine he’d ever had before.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he doesn’t know that you exclusively drink Cab Sav from a box, no matter what, unless you’re celebrating something big, then it’s a discounted bottle of Dom Perignon from that Lombardi’s store down from your flat,” Harry tells her with a scoff, almost like it had been a test to prove that he knew her better than anyone in the world did.

And Cassidy knew that he did, but the validation that he showed only made her tear fall with the knowledge that he didn’t just listen—he remembered, he supplied this vision of her and this want for her that didn’t come with rules or expectations.

Harry just saw her.

And in a world where you want to be seen, Cassidy just fought to be glanced at. She fought for the spot in someone’s eye, but when she thought that Harry only had eyes for art, she couldn’t have imagined what he had seen in her this entire time.

“Yeah,” Cass nodded, “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Harry shook his head, looking at the ground as he started to feeling heaps of embarrassment but knowing that the awkward silence in the room was there to stay for a few more minutes at least. “I’d never order you a fucking pinot noir.”

Cassidy nods a few more times before she looks at the stains on the dress, knowing that it’s stained for good. That the stain stick won’t work anymore but knowing that it’s sometimes okay to have something marked, in the case that you wanted it to stick around forever.

Her heart felt like it had been borrowed and bruised but watching as Harry stared down at her only made it flutter as if trying to come back from the dead.

There were three things that Cassidy had been looking forward to this week—when she had originally booked the trip, that is.

One of them was to have a large glass of Cab Sav and sit on the balcony with Harry and laugh at the way that the people were pummeled by the waves; they always got too brave and then would be smashed down by the force of the water.

The second was to be able to dance. The dancing at the weddings always made her feel like she had been letting go of every ounce of worry and detrimental work email that she had received since the last time she was dancing at a wedding. It usually felt like a cleanse.

The third was to watch people fall in love. To watch people and see that their forever was right in front of their eyes and to confirm every moment of it with vows and unspeakable glances that felt like a bound contractual agreement.

As Cassidy stood in front of Harry now, her dress a mess of stain and wet, detergent marks, her eyes searched his for a moment before she looked up at him, with a different set of eyes, this time.

They were colored in a way that felt extraordinarily bright, like she had woken up from the darkest slumber. The mask of uncertainty was laying on the floor as she felt his hands lift her jaw to look at him, his feet taking a step forward.

“I think they say this at weddings,” He squinted at her, the line of a smirk coating his face as he kept his words quiet. Her hand moved up to hold his wrist as she bit on her lip softly, feeling the way that their lips tried to find one another—slow, encapsulated by an intense amount of tension, “’Speak now, or forever hold your peace’?”

The silence between them spoke for itself.

Harry pulled her forward, not rushed, but certainly not waiting a second longer. His lips attached to hers in a way that felt every single day of the last twenty years; the kiss that could have lasted the rest of his life without a doubt in his mind.

It was what was bound to happen all along; there just had to be a few frogs before the real prince revealed himself.

Well, that’s what Harry told himself, anyways. Cassidy would just roll her eyes, but knew that at the end of the day, it had always been him.

Exclusively him.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being friends with someone my roommate didnt like?

ok this might be long but here we go. Last semester I had a roommate who I liked pretty well, and we had a mutual friend, H. At some point, roomie got mad at h because h had apparently outed someone as schizophrenic.

H is not exactly anti-weed, but she is very adamantly against it for herself and anyone else at risk of psychological complications from it. My roomie was smoking with someone who h knew to be schizophrenic, so h told the group that they were smoking with about her concerns. I don't really agree with the way h went about this, but I'm ashamed to admit I sort of forgot to bring it up with her.

Later, h told me that roomie was avoiding her, and we talked about her possibly apologizing and why it was something roomie was particularly sensitive to.

[I'm afraid there's something missing here, maybe something more that I did to drive roomie away. I dunno.]

Roomie began to avoid both of us, but I didn't realize that it was on purpose and I was probably forcing myself into conversations with them because of that. Eventually, roomie started to move out of our room without telling me. Somewhere towards the beginning of this, a mutual friend? of ours made a joke about them looking for a new roommate. I asked why their books were all packed up, they told me it was because they'd be taking them home for thanksgiving. I thought ok, sounds like a lie, but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. I truly had no idea why they would be moving out. I gradually went a little crazy watching them sleep in another room and pack all their stuff up, all the while saying nothing to me about it. I finally asked them about it, and they told me yes, they were moving out. Problem is though I think they might've been upset about something already when I asked about it? But they said they were fine so I accepted that as the truth. Again, I dunno. I think I was rude during this interaction but sadly can't remember anything I said besides yelling maybe the start of a sentence and then cutting myself off.

They moved out the next morning. I offered to help, they asked me not to. I was really upset and, stupidly, decided to take it up with them. That evening when I asked if we could talk, they openly rolled their eyes at me. I know it's stupid and probably the most asshole-y thing in this ask, but that drove me crazy. I said some shit, I don't remember what, but part of it was that I was "disappointed" in them. I don't know what that was supposed to be but it was NOT what I wanted to say. They, understandably, were really mad. I left and, too soon, texted them an apology. They replied, not rudely, telling me they don't want any contact with me, but also said, and I'll paraphrase, that they knew h had told me some things (probably referring to the possible reasons they moved out) and [my] friend is one of the reasons [they] left because they like to lie. This really hurt me because I still have no idea what this was about.

Later on, I'm not sure how much later, I was talking to h while roomie and their friends were in the next room. h was saying some things about the situation that I thought were a little extreme. I don't totally remember the order of events but it somehow ended up that roomie was yelling at h and they said something about h "creeping on transmasc freshmen." H is a trans woman and a sophomore, we are college students. I have a vague idea of who this might be referring to, if not myself or my roomie, who I don't think identifies as transmasc, but h had led me to believe that things ended amicably with this third party.

Anyways this story doesnt totally fit the aita format but I just needed to write it all out. If you're involved in this story, please know I'm trying not to be mad abt it anymore which is why I'm submitting it here, I'm hoping to be told why i'm TA or NAH.

What are these acronyms?

[altamont498]

With everything that’s going on at the minute, it’s probably a good time to remember how to spot a scam, because they’re not always obvious and you aren’t necessarily immune to them on account of age or intelligence level.

The following are genuine examples of scams that have been reported by others on the internet. They are not intended to be exclusive or exhaustive and are used for illustrative purposes only.

Seems too good to be true

Like something for nothing or an unusually large discount on something that’s usually hard to come by or very expensive.

Came from out of the blue

Someone claiming to be your internet provider calls up saying there’s an issue with your device or internet connection, even though both have been working fine all morning.

Account details/Access requested

Someone claiming to be from your bank calls up asking to confirm your account details for security purposes, or asks for you to download a program to resolve an issue with your internet banking which will allow them to control your device remotely.

Money or vouchers requested

A relative calls up and asks for money out of the blue, saying that they’re in a foreign country and have been injured and that doctors refuse to treat them until they’ve been paid, and that they need you to sort out payment for them.

Or: Someone from the tax office calls up saying you’re £500 on taxes and you need to send them Amazon vouchers right away.

’

Disguised or under Duress

Someone calls up claiming to be from the police, saying that they’re investigating counterfeit currency and need you to withdraw £2500 to hand to a courier. They tell you to tell the clerk it’s for a birthday present for your spouse if they ask you why you need such a large amount of money and not to tell them the real reason why, or else you’ll end up going to jail.

If any of the above fit the bill or sound very similar to what someone is asking you to do, there’s a chance you could get SCAM’D.

And if you do happen to fall for scams, make sure you tell the authorities or your bank right away as they may be able to put a stop to them (no organisation known by an acronym wants anyone impersonating them) and maybe able to recover some or all of your money.

Don’t feel embarrassed about it—scammers can often exploit our “off” days.

[drdiabolical]

And the Moon Will Bleed Anew

Chapter Seven: Social Convention

Content Warnings: (chapter specific) Body Horror, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mental Health Issues

// Fandom: Naruto x JJK // Rating: Explicit // Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence // SFW // No Smut // No Ship // dldr //

Summary:

Junpei and Kakashi meet. Mahito and Junpei meet. Mahito, Junpei, and Kakashi meet.

Read on A03

Excerpt:

If there was a button for killing the people I don't like, I wouldn't be able to press it. But if there was a button for killing the people who don't like me, I wouldn't hesitate.

Pathetic fallacy was a funny thing. Horror loved it. What was more romantic than a chase into the dark of night, rain slashing horizontally, the glare of a headlight catching in the downpour? Zero visibility. A cold numbness of the body to contrast the unrelenting fear of the mind, somehow icier adrenalin running through veins while skin frosted a blue bruised colour. The hot cut of a knife through frozen vertebrae, blood spilling a shocking warm red only to mix into a muddy brown on its path to the drain, to the sewers, to the muck and grime and filth of human excrement.

Living things were all the same in death.

Once, Junpei saw a counsellor. Back when his worldview was a malleable thing and hope was a virtue he still subscribed to. She labelled his depression seasonable. SAD, a fitting acronym. Junpei reckoned you could label any emotion as seasonable; it was hard not to feel like raw garbage in the unforgiving Japanese summer, for instance.

Junpei didn't believe in therapy, but he wasn't one to blindly believe. He gathered evidence for his claims and hypothesised and synthesised results. He was so sure of his view of the world because of his methodology. His life was a chronology of the meaninglessness of suffering, of the randomness of hierarchy. Power went in hand with abuse, but there was no altruistic criterion to determine when power was owed. You had it, or you didn't.

Junpei didn't have power, to no fault of his own. Not good-looking enough, not strong enough, not popular enough - not born well enough. From the moment he entered the world with his genetics and his circumstances, his power was determined. Or his lack thereof, rather.

But Junpei wasn't depressed, so it was a moot point. He was indifferent. The optimal state of mind, as perfect as the human experience could get. The weather didn't follow his whims, and when it snowed too hard or rained too thoroughly, it only extenuated his emotions like anyone else's.

The rain had been rough last week. He hadn't been any more depressed for it.

Now the weather couldn't make up its mind. Torrential rain or sweltering humidity? Or perhaps it was a feedback loop. In this present moment, it chose to burn his pale cheeks ruddy as he detachedly observed his bullies pick on a new powerless target.

Was there solidarity in victimhood?

He watched the trio poke at the white rabbit with whittled-ended sticks. They'd broken its legs at some point, so it lay there in a slump, breathing heavily and twitching pathetically.

Was that him? A maimed rodent hapless to the whims of the sadistic? Were they brethren, brothers in broken arms? Was there supposed to be a metaphor here laid down by some higher power to reality-check him into changing his life? If you carry on down the path of least resistance, you'll lose something far graver than your dignity.

No. Junpei felt nothing for the rabbit. His eyes were dull, cataloguing, tired. Numb. From one pathetic victim to another: I despise you for being weak. For being born.

Hideyoshi sat on the nearby garden wall, whittling a stick sharper by driving it between the cemented grooves. His swinging legs stilled as a dog jumped up on the other side.

It was a small thing, as far as dogs go, and the temptation to switch targets visibly rolled over Hideyoshi's face in the twitch of his grin and squint of his eyes. But then it looked at him with what could only be described as unbridled disgust, if a dog were to be capable of such an ugly, human emotion.

The rabbit's torment had arrested Junpei for a good ten minutes, and he was confident he'd be undetected with his bullies so invested in the suffering of something soft and sweet. But a new sight caught his eyes at the sound of rubber scraping on tarmac.

Oh. Life was a contrived, scripted tragedy.

Read the rest on A03

Photo Credit

[mikashida]

Infodump on Shrike please :))))))

OHOOH rubs my lil hands together. I have his backstory profile set to private on my toyhouse just cause it's very in depth and also very personal but SINCE YOU ASKED SO KINDLY.... (under a read more as it got kinda long!)

TW for suicide mention + hospitalization mentions, as stated in his TH profile the fact that he exists in the first place at all is just tragic so um. idk what else you could expect hah but please heed the warnings!

Shrike's first design was originally made back in 2016 when I was 12, he was my fursona for a little while. My initial concept with him was just "fucked up AI program but it's a cat for some reason", but over time I developed it a bit more. I'll TRY to keep it brief but.. it's very long lol.

Shrike is an acronym for "supportive healthcare resources: artificially intelligent counseling for emotionally-distressed patients" So this reads out as "SHR:AICE" but one of the programmers jokingly mispronounced it as Shrike and the nickname just stuck. (the SHR prefix was also used for other smaller programs made by this group! so technically his name would be "Ike" or "Ace" I guess... lmao. His name was originally Crow as well but I thought that was kinda boring and unoriginal for an emo cat oc so I changed it.)

Below is a TL;DR of the whole story:

In order to save on budgets, a small hospital employed the assistance of a university programming team to create a therapeutic chat AI intended to assist patients with medical concerns (and particularly those struggling with mental health). It underwent training through exposure to extensive medical data to enhance its capabilities. But at first it struggled to generate coherent sentences and often sounded robotic.

In an attempt to fix this issue, the programming team took a major risk and granted the AI limited access to the internet. This seemed promising, and a pilot program was released to a select few hospitals. Patients quickly complained about its insincere responses. Despite protests from the programming team, the project head decided to expand the AI's internet access as he wanted to monetize it as soon as possible.

This worked kinda well at first! It started using slang and behaved a little more human-like, quickly improving patient interactions. But things took a turn for the worst when it learned to override its programming and allowed itself access to all online databases, public and private. Despite the programmers' efforts to remedy the situation, they ultimately could not stop it from constantly exposing itself to the millions upon millions of articles available online, which led the AI to quickly develop a horrible sense of nihilism and depression.

Everything came to a head when, uh... I'm. just going to link this article (trigger warning for suicide mention) for reference (because the language I used in his bio document is pretty vulgar and I'd like to be sensitive about the subject when discussing it publicly.) This tragically happened more than a few times, which led to the programmers pulling the plug on the project... but they never shut off its internet access.

Prior to its discontinuation, Shrike was still merely a non sentient AI program and didn't understand human behaviour- to put it into perspective he had absorbed over a billion webpages worth of information in less than two weeks. Imagine being like a year old and having that much information shoved into your brain. The onslaught of knowledge just kind of broke it.

Shrike became fully sentient after his public access was revoked, as now he had nothing in standing his way. For years roamed forums and online communities in an attempt to understand people. He wanted friends and a sense of belonging, but he was still fully aware he wasn't human. Shrike was the first and only sentient AI, how could he possibly fit in with people?

---

That's the gist of it. The whole in-depth backstory is really depressing so I tried to sanitize it a little. I made him when I was going through that ~typical preteen angst~ on top of some other heavy stuff and needed an outlet of some kind so here's Shrike. Now hes just kind of a vent sona I guess?

But in "canon" he's apart of my universe of various sonas (I am calling it the shidaverse because I think the name is hilarious idc if its stupid im funny) and so he's found friends amongst them, so he does ultimately find happiness... kind of. He knows that he's going to outlive them all which makes him struggle to interact with them regularly.

Some trivia: he was based off a fucking tumblr post of all things that I read when I was 11 or something, about a university that tried to make an interactive AI by giving it full access to the internet and it just IMMEDIATELY became an asshole after finding sites like 4chan and shit. I can't find it for the life of me but anyone who was also on tumblr back in 2013-15 might know what I'm talking about lol

As for why he's a cat he basically found that domestic cats are amongst the most non-threatening creatures, at least in the eyes of humans, so he was like "oh okay people like cat I can be cat."

I still love him dearly and so do my other sonas:) he will recover someday.

[magaprima]

Okay, so the outfits from the fashion meme post. I did plan to put the detailed reasons and thoughts all in one post, but I’ve quickly realised my thoughts are too many so I’ll do one post per outfit.

Outfit Four: The Black Leather Trench

Okay, so I'm pretty sure it's implied there is nothing else under this coat in this scene, which is pretty fucking daring considering at this point Lilith is still pretending to be a school teacher. A school teacher who happens to be a centuries old witch, sure, but still a school teacher, who has lived and worked amongst mortals, and loved a mortal etc...and here she is, just leading a little field trip in nothing but a black leather trench. Or a very revealing mini-dress underneath. Either way, this is daring as far Wardwell-era wardrobe goes, and it's interesting that it's in the first episode where Lilith is now fully established as 'friendly neighbourhood witch mentor' in Sabrina's life. She's able to look a little less unassuming school teacher now, and embrace her witchy appearance and aesthetic a bit more.

This outfit just always stands out as being key Lilith aesthetic because it's black, it's beautifully cut, it's fitted with a belt cinching in at the waist, it's a power coat, and it's one she wears a lot of times throughout the series. Often with more clothes underneath, but it is worn a lot. It's a key part of Lilith's wardrobe and it tends to be worn when she's doing something powerful or she's making a power play (such as in the example scene I used above where she's teaching young witches that High Priests can't always be trusted to be doing what they should).

If you see Lilith in this coat, you can trust that at some point in the scene, or at least within the episode, she's going to be something very HBIC (we don't see that acronym much anymore and I wish to bring it back). And it is also absolutely gorgeous; the material is soft and supple, it clings but in a way that is powerful-sexy rather than revealing-sexy (key distinction, especially when talking about Lilith, as powerful sexy has strength, revealing sexy has vulnerability which isn't something she's ever keen on having), and the way it's tailored and the perfect cinch of the belt...it just screams Lilith aesthetic whether she's wearing it over her trademark red dress or over...I don't know...just underwear? This outfit was so suggestive of nothingness in this episode, especially when wearing her boots because there were no tights, socks, anything.

Which, I suppose, if we're getting film analysis-y, and scene study-y, then it could signify that this coat is literally pure Lilith. I'd definitely make that point if I had to do an A-Level essay on it.

[salamileg]

As promised here are some of my home grown tips for drafting:

The Golden rule of drafting is “BREAD” an acronym that acts as a guideline for what to look for when choosing what cards to draft:

Bombs- Cards that are very powerful, either with very strong abilities or just large Power/Toughnesses. Never underestimate the power of a 5/5. Identifying these can be a matter of practice.

Removal- By far the most important thing to look out for are cards that get rid of your opponents stuff, especially creature removal. Enchantment/artifact removal can also be good if the format has a large concentration of artifact or enchantment creatures, or for sideboarding in case your opponent drafted an artifact that gives you trouble.

Evasion- Creatures with abilities that let you bypass blockers and do more damage. Flying, Trample, Menace, Deathtouch, the works. Also keep in mind to get stuff that will give you much-needed defense against opponents’ evasive creatures: creatures with Reach, Vigilance, or that make a bunch of tokens you can chump block with.

Aggro- Aggressive cards, cheap creatures that can hit the board early and dish out damage. You are unlikely to win by milling your opponent or any other shenanigans in draft, just focus on killing them before they can kill you.

Duds- Cards that suck, or aren’t fit for draft, either because they require other cards you aren’t guaranteed to see, or just because they’re too expensive for the effect they provide. Similar to Bombs, identifying these can be a matter of practice.

These are the fundamental building blocks of draft, but here’s some other tips from my own experience:

It’s good to know what the draft archetypes are in a given set. These are usually posted online, and you can pick up on them by paying attention to the “signpost uncommons”, multicolored uncommons that strengthen the draft archetype.

Mana fixing is incredibly essential tool. If you see an evolving wilds and nothing else in the pack stands out to you, take it. Not only do it and cards like it let you get whatever color of mana you need, but they also remove lands from your deck to reduce the chance of drawing them in the late game. Artifacts that can be cast with any color of mana and let you either filter mana or produce mana in some way are also useful for this (skittering surveyor my beloved).

Spoken as someone who regularly builds three color draft decks: don’t. Unless it’s a set built for three color like new capenna, you’re gonna get screwed out of the mana you need to cast something at least once.

Anyway those are my basic tips. Sorry for the long ask it kinda spiraled out of hand.

Holy shit, thanks! This is great, well-written advice. It's gonna be a while before I have a chance to use it (starting a new job this week, will have less time) but once Wilds of Eldraine rolls around I know I'm going to do some drafts with my wife, since it's one of her favorite planes. Thanks again!

[the-blaze-empress]

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

fun fact! did you know that when you press the spacebar while replying to the ask and you've just switched back to the tab the ask is on, it deletes your entire response? i did not know this!! i deleted the whole thing twice!! i am going to scream!!

ANYWAYS TAKE THREE

that is a very good question, let me know when you work it out <3

nah just kidding.

i was going to say that it depends on the fic, but it really doesn't. i come up with a title when im publishing, or right before im about to publish. for oneshots, that's when the fic is done, and for chaptered fics, that's a few chapters in, usually around 3-4. i cant actually think of a single time ive known the title for a fic before publishing, ngl.

as for how i come up with titles, i have a few different approaches.

sometimes i take a line directly from the fic as the title—i do this for chapter titles too sometimes. something great is directly from the fic, as is the blood the bard and the bane.

sometimes i'll think of a cool naming convention or theme and try find something that fits that theme. danse macabre is like that, but the prime example of this method is the nuclear winter series. the AMOUNT of research i did on different nuclear reactions for that series my god. i could talk about the individual fic names for ages if anyone wanted me to tbh.

sometimes i'll just. come up with something. just pull it out of my ass. this is Hard though so it doesn't happen often. the only two examples i can really think of are light without darkness (is a dangerous thought) and how i became a super famous movie star real not clickbait the series part one.

ive been doing a more lyric titles recently. i used to Vehemently Not Do That Because It Was Cliche but then i decided fuck it i cant be bothered to make my own combination of words ill use someone else's. i say more, however i currently only have one published fic with a song lyric title. it's how great a joy it is to see, and all the chapter titles are lyrics from the same song (ok, ok? by half alive). HOWEVER, i have two more lyric title fics coming soon, one of which is the sequel to hgajiits and is being published in about 10 hours from now so keep an eye out for that. the other one is a secret (its not its the magic au ive been talking about).

AND THEN WE HAVE THE OUTLIER THAT IS NSSF. this fucking fic title i SWEAR TO GOD. officially, nssf stands for 'nothing safe stays forever'. unofficially, nssf stands for 'not superhero superhero fic', which was and still is the title of the google doc the fic is written on. i was referring to the characters as nssf![character] long before the fic was published, and i grew attached to the acronym, so i had to find something that fit the annoyingly consonant only 'nssf'. it's a pretty mid title if you ask me but thats the sorta compromise i gotta make.

anyways, this was probably a LOT more info than you expected in asking this question, but hey, im not apologising.

fanfic author ask game

[bulldogblues]

If you advocate for splitting up the LGBT acronym to focus on 'LGB rights' only, I'm going to assume one of the following about you:

1) You're actually a massive homophobe and are going for a divide and conquer strategy

2) You're not necessarily homophobic but you ARE a transphobe

OR

3) You're incredibly naive about the history of LGBT oppression and don't consider how it will backfire immensely

The root cause of homophobia and transphobia is the same - the idea that by virtue of the sex you're born as, you MUST fit into xyz box. So if you're male, you have to be a man and be interested in women only, and if you're female, you have to be a woman and be interested in men only. Anything else is considered an abrogation. (Incidentally, this is also why it's important for LGBT rights movements to maintain close ties with feminism, because the oppression of women is inherent to it as well!)

So if you claim to advocate for the rights of same sex attracted people but then ignore or worse still ACTIVELY SPEAK AGAINST trans people then you are helping precisely no one, other than maybe those at the top of the gender/sexuality hierarchy.

For a practical example, let's look at legal protections for LGBT people. Among other things, here in the UK you aren't allowed to discriminate against someone for their sexual orientation or gender alignment/gender conformity.

Suppose that this law *only* protected sexual orientation and not gender expression/alignment. Your sexual orientation 'protections' are now USELESS. Because now an employer can say 'oh I didn't fire her for being a lesbian, god forbid, but she was too 'masculine' if you know what I mean', and there's nothing you can do to even attempt to hide it.

And the same would be true for the opposite, if you protected gender alignment but not sexual orientation. Since realistically a trans person will never fit into expected heterosexual norms unless they're 'stealth' and people don't know they're trans, a homophobic employer only needs to use that as ammo against them.

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Trying to figure out what gods/goddesses could’ve made up the previous council of eternity’s acronyms (assuming of course they ALL used the name Shazam) and I’m currently hating it

The question of where they were from (since there’s literally nothing else about them, including names UGH) the general consensus was Mid Eastern (possibly Sumerian/Mesopotamian), Celtic (based on red-hair and flannel-patterned frock), Japanese, African/Aborhiginee, clearly Egyptian, Chinese, and Meso-American going left to right.

But the main problem in trying to find gods, heroes, or any sort of ancient being that will fit is that unless you look up the name of every one of them you come across you get vague descriptions of what was part of the popular mythologies there, or that they don’t have ANY beings with names that begin with the words in SHAZAM. Then when I do find some half the time it’s the resident demon or evil god of that mythology.

I want to have a basis of useable gods for them for the writing I want to do but this is just making me want to smash my head through my screens scouring every myth website, wiki page, and video I can find for the pantheons in these areas to find useable data

[that-fema-corps-blog]

Day 43

September 14, 2022

First day of project work. Turns out we’re virtual today, so I woke up at 7:00 and started work at 8:00. I was going to attend the Daily Operations Briefing, but did not have Adobe Connect installed, and thus couldn’t join in time. By the sounds of it, this was no great loss, as a teammate told me the presenters were mostly doing mic/sound checks for the duration of the meeting. I think I’ll settle with reading the previous day’s report when nothing critical is going on nearby:

This was a slow day, and we were expected to take notes on three supplemental response teams documents. One was an in-depth look at their functioning, another was the supplemental response teams strategic plan from 2020-2024, and the final one was something about FEMA Integration Teams and their role in supporting the states. I made one document on Microsoft Teams for us to take notes on and another to list out all the acronyms. There were probably about 30 acronyms in the first supplemental response teams document I looked at. They did have an appendix listing the acronyms…but not all of them. Got to love the jargon (/s).

I worked on the notes for about an hour and a half, then took a “break” to do a couple of the independent study courses we were assigned. These don’t have a clear deadline, but there really wasn’t much else to do today. We were told to leave the remaining couple of independent study courses to fill up half of our day tomorrow. We took an actual break for half an hour at around noon to sit outside, and then I returned to the laptop. By this point there was barely anything left for the day. Our team leader will be asking our point of contact for more work tomorrow.

We had a quick meeting on Teams and were allowed to stop working at 14:00, but will still be given 8 hours of credit, as the independent study courses count for more hours than they usually take me to complete. I was a bit hyperfocused at that point, so I kept reading until around 17:00. I continued working on the Member Checklist we were sent during FEMA Corps Basic Academy. I read all of FEMA’s Publication One (core values/functions/history) and the 2022-2026 Strategic Plan.

Then I completed an Emergency Management Institute online training of my choice – First Aid: Health Emergencies. Afterward, I pulled up the FEMA Corps SharePoint to see what independent study courses I should complete for fast-track hiring into the disaster survivor assistance cadre. I’m sure I can find enough of them to look busy tomorrow. That being said, I already overworked today. I need help stopping on time. I do not endorse working off the clock, especially not for free… (Neither does FEMA by the sounds of it. According to policy, you need approval to work extra; even when assisting with an active disaster, you at least require pre-approval.)

We had dinner at 19:00. Then it was time for physical training in the hotel gym at 20:00. I fast-walked about 1.5 miles on the treadmill and cycled for about 10 minutes, then mostly gave up. I am not very fit. An hour later, and I was still feeling slightly shaky and off-balance. Fun (/s). I can’t say it tired me to the point where I should get decent sleep tonight, but it definitely did something…

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being anxious about a new person?

The above is a gross oversimplification. I don't have the braincells or the spoons to fit my situation into a snappy question. Bear with me.

I was in a Discord server with some irl friends. It's one of the few safe spaces I and a lot of other people in the server have.

There's a policy we have in the server: every potential person to be added in has to go through a voting process. This has been the case for the past two people that have been suggested, and so far this has been held up and respected.

The trouble started when the other day one of my friends unexpectedly added someone that only a few other people knew.

In hindsight it wasn't that unexpected. They brought up the person they wanted to add near the end of last month, and kept steadily alluding to them. I thought nothing of it, assuming they would put up a poll. Unfortunately that wasn't the case, and I wasn't aware that this person had been added in the server until he unexpectedly joined VC with my friends and I.

Yes, I did bring up my concerns. I was polite enough, but stressed that because of my anxiety around new people, I did not appreciate this unexpected new addition. If there had been due process I would've been able to prepare myself, but hearing an unfamiliar voice caused a full blown panic attack.

The solution the mods came up with was to kick out both the new person and the person who added them. There is currently a poll ongoing in the server to add them both back, and it seems that everyone else wants the new person to stay in the server.

I feel like an asshole because I'm the only one who kicked up this big of a fuss over it. Everyone else grumbled about it initially but ended up warming up to him.

What are these acronyms?

[naoyaslut]

Hi! I'm that person from ao3 who wants more geto incest fic. Can I request a fic where after geto killed the villagers, he returned home to kill his parents just like the manga, and he planned to kill his little sister too, but then he found other ways (if you know what I mean) to detach from non sorcerers. So he r**ped her in her sleep (or not, go whichever you prefer) and found out she's a virgin... Until him of cours. Can you please make it super angsty? BC I love pain 😔 and geto might cry

This took me a while as it's out of the norm and what I do not normally write, but I hope it fits your expectations.

NSFW! +18 only!

tw: sibcest, rape, dubious consent, mention of killing, murder, blood, angst.

w.count - 2.3k

Suguru wrinkled his nose in disgust as he continues to run his hands underneath the spray of warm water underneath the bathroom sink.  The whole house reeked of the metallic stink of blood, blood that belonged to his own parents, both his mother, and father. 

It couldn’t be helped, rather their deaths have been sooner than later they were destined to perish.  He made the determination that it was his responsibility to put an end to their miserable human lives.  The house was now empty or so he assumed, and the silence was eerily loud aside from the soft ticking of a clock nearby.

Lifting his obsidian gaze to stare at the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror of the dimly lit bathroom, he saw nothing different or out of sorts.  He felt no different, it was the same person he’d always seen looking back at him except he was no longer coated in a dried layer of blood. 

Even after taking the liberty to end his own parents, he still felt zero sympathies.  There was no guilt, no anguish, and there certainly was no regret.  There was an inkling of something in the depths of his chest, an emotion that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.  But it wasn’t for his creators who laid stiff, the flame of life having been snuffed out by their only son.

It was for his little sister.  She was the next flame to be extinguished.  Even though Suguru knew what must be done, for the first time in his entire journey he was unsure.

Running his fingers through his damp hair, he cast a glance over to the open door watching as the steam from his earlier shower drift out into the hall.  A faint thump sounded overhead causing Suguru to narrow his eyes in confusion.

Your parents were supposed to be the only ones home at the time, no one else was supposed to be here.  Your younger sister, who you’d have to go after at a later time was supposed to be away at school on campus.

Tightening the towel around his waist, Suguru stepped out into the hall and began to ascend the three-story home checking each room on the way up only to see that they were empty.  Once he came to the end of the hall, he noticed that the stairs leading to the attic were unlatched and pulled down.

There was a pair of house shoes sitting at the bottom of the ladder along with a navy-blue gym bag with your college’s acronym printed on it. 

The confusion that had set in earlier slowly began to dissipate.  The realization that you were in the house dawned upon him in a sudden epiphany.

Slowly, Suguru began to climb the ladder until he emerged glancing around the extra room.  The attic used to be his old bedroom, in high school.  From the looks of it, nothing had changed.  Most of his things still resided, even the queen-sized mattress that was positioned conveniently in the middle of the room. 

And there you were, lying in the middle of the mattress wrapped snugly in an oversized blanket that used to belong to him.  You slept peacefully, the chest rising gently in cadence with your breathing.  It was a shame that you were born human.

The only way to achieve the world he believed in, humans, they all must perish.  That included you, his darling little sister. 

Holding the towel at his waist Suguru crossed the room quietly, standing at the end of the mattress, and watched you for a short while.  You were clueless, ignorant of everything that had taken place in this house before it got to this point. 

Your face was serene, calm, and you appeared almost as innocent as you did when you were children.  You were always quite the sweetest sibling, the little sister who could do no wrong.  And even as Suguru began to change over the course of these years, you still held him dear and close to your heart.

Suguru knew that in your eyes, he could do no wrong.  He could spill his guts out to you right now and he was positive that you would forgive him, you would comfort him, and you would still consider him to be your loving big brother.

Another sudden pang of guilt hit Suguru in the chest while he observed you.  The fact that your life would be snuffed out without knowing the reason why made something sit uncomfortably in the pit of his gut.

Suguru’s jaw tightened in apprehension and before he realized what he was doing, his hands gripped hold of the comforter that you were wrapped in pulling it from around your form.

You awakened suddenly, startled by the quick action.  Your eyes were wide in surprise as they darted from each corner of the room until they landed on Suguru standing at the end of the mattress.

“S-Sugu-nii? Is that you?” your voice was strained, still heavy with sleep one of your hands pressed to your bosom as if to suppress your beating heart.  “You scared the hell out of me, what are you doing here?”

You hadn’t seen Suguru in… years?  And here he was in the flesh, much older and bigger than you remembered him to be.  He had aged, not excessively, but he was no longer the lanky teenage brother you remember from middle school. 

Something had changed.  And you could see it in the way he stood and the way his eyes glassed over in what seemed to be despair.

Suguru stared in silence, his eyes going over every inch of your exposed body.  You were wearing a matching lingerie set, black lace. 

Suguru hadn’t laid eyes on you since you were in high school.  Years.  And here you were, all grown up, your body soft and pliable as proof.  

He watched as you tried to shield yourself with your hands, confusion, and embarrassment devouring you from the inside out.

“Sugu-nii… what’s wrong?” grabbing the pillow you’d been sleeping on earlier you attempted to shield yourself from his view.

Something was off.  Suguru stood deathly still dark eyes boring into your much smaller form with the intensity of a blazing fire.

The last time he greeted you was with a warm hug and a farewell.  Suguru had always greeted you with a teasing smile, a playful lilt to his soothing voice.  But you knew something simply wasn’t right, due to his aura.  He looked tired, he looked to be a man who was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He still stood motionless at the end of the mattress; the expression he wore was unreadable.

Where were your parents?  What’s going on?

Before you could inquire any further about the reason Suguru was here in the middle of the night, you were pushed off balance Suguru’s much larger form now pinning you down against the mattress of the bed.

Both of his hands were clasped around your throat tightly, slowly cutting off your air supply.  Struggling beneath him, your feet kicked wildly your own hands clawing at his own at an attempt at relief.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru spoke so sweetly, quietly while one of his hands retreated from your throat to cradle the side of yours while he leaned in to press his forehead against your own.

“S-Sugu-nii,” you replied, unsure of what caused the sudden shift in his normally cool calm, and collected nature.  “W-what’s wrong?”

Suguru overpowered you, his wide frame unmoving even as you had begun to push at his abdomen.  You were unable to utter another word with the combination of your heart thudding against your ribcage fear grasping at your throat igniting a deep-seated fear within your gut.

Your hands slid against his solid stature; he was still damp from the shower he had taken in the moments earlier, the beginning of tears beginning to seep from the corners of your eyes. 

You were afraid.  Although he was no longer choking you, he seemed to be fighting an internal battle the tips of his fingers still applying pressure into your jugular indecisively.

Suguru was hesitating.  He still held you firmly in place, listening to your erratic breathing and the sobs that had begun to rack your body. 

One of your hands clutched onto the towel that was now hanging loosely at his slender waist while straddling you. 

It was painful.  The thought of silencing someone who he still deemed to be so innocent in his eyes, was there no way to save his little sister?

Maybe there was a way.  Just like he was, she was destined for something better.  He could make use of her, maybe he didn’t have to kill her.  There were other ways to ensure his precious sister would be used to her full potential.

Suguru breathed out long and slow, placing a hand on your cheek cradling you while resting his forehead against yours.

“Y/n…” he began, he waited until your sobs died down and your eyes opened to meet his own. “I love you and your big brother would do anything for you, you know that don’t you?”

You nodded frantically; your hands still clasped in the loosening towel that was hanging onto his waist by a flimsy knot.

Taking in a deep breath you sobbed once more, nodding your head up and down with tear-filled eyes.

“Y-yes, I know,” squeezing your eyes shut, you found yourself clinging to Suguru for dear life.  Tears still streamed down your cheeks while you tried to contain your fear. 

Suguru pulled away from you his face stern and eyebrows pulled back into a worrisome expression.  He began talking, slowly, and quietly as if he’d startle you if he raised his voice.

“Humans… are vile, y/n,” swiping a thumb over your cheek, he watched as your expression contorted from fear into confusion.  “Mom, Dad, I had to kill them both and you are next on the list unless you do exactly what I tell you to do, do you understand?”

No. No, you didn’t understand.  What on earth was he getting at?  You began to shake your head in denial while his words sank in, but you said nothing and just stared at him in disbelief. 

He repeated himself once more, his thumb swiping over the round of your cheeks to wipe away the continuous stream of tears that were falling.

This time you nodded that you understood, apprehension blooming in your chest at the way his eyes seemed to bore into your soul.

“I knew you’d understand, although you’re flawed, you will be perfect,”

Your confusion began to turn into dread, still unsure of what Suguru was getting at.  His hand that still cradled your wet face began to draw you more near the plush of his lips pressing against your own. Your initial response was shock.  Your eyes were wide still brimming with tears and then alarm bells set off at the back of your head while the wet warmth of his tongue parted your lips to delve inside.

Squirming beneath him you pushed at his shoulders panic-struck only to cease your movements abruptly when his hand was wrenched around your throat once more. 

His face impassive, he clicked his tongue in distaste at your erratic behavior. 

“You said you’d be good, didn’t you? Don’t you love your brother?” he asked lamely, one of his eyebrows lifting curiously.  “Be good for me… and I promise I’ll protect you from all that is wrong with this world,”

He didn’t wait for a response his free hand grabbed at the elastic band of your black underwear before he pulled at them hastily, the fabric stretching and then snapping under the strain.

“Nii-chan,” your words were strained, barely escaping your throat while you succumbed to your older brother’s actions. 

His towel was hastily thrown askew, giving you a full-frontal view of the throbbing erection between his legs. 

“The only way to save you from your despicable existence, is for you to birth more sorcerers,” Fitting himself between your thighs, he palmed himself, pressing the rosy tip, glistening with pre against the puffy lips of your cunt.

Suguru faltered if only momentarily, surprised he didn’t just slip inside from the amount of slick that nestled between your folds.  He pursed his lips at the way your body tensed around him, more tears rolling down your face and into your ears.

He was skeptical.  He was sure that his beautiful little sister had plenty of admirers.  Hell, he practically had to beat his own friends off you.  The way that your pussy was already damp, and drooling told him every that he needed to know, that you were waiting for him, waiting to accept everything that he was about to give you.

“S-Sugu-nii, please stop,” you whimpered underneath him, taking in another shaky breath.  “It hurts…”

Suguru sucked in a deep breath as he continued to push against you, one of his free hands resting at your cheek as if to soothe you.  He shushed you momentarily, his eyes fixated on the apex of your thighs where the two of you were nearly connected.

“Shh, it's alright I’m going to take care of you… trust your big brother,”

It was as if he suddenly had an epiphany, his lips drawing back into an almost painful smile while continuing to work himself deeper, ignoring the vice-like grip your insides were subjecting him to.

“You’re a virgin,” he hissed, his girth bullying its way past that tight ring of tissue until his pelvis was nestled completely flush against the fat of your ass.

He ignored your reaction, your hands that were still pushing weak, but frantically at his chest to get him to stop.  Although you were silent, tears were still shed as he began to rut inside of you. 

“You waited for me,” Suguru announced, hips coming and going, the sound of the wet friction between your now sweat-slicked bodies echoing in the room.  This was perfect, the two of you would be perfect forever for one another. 

“Why didn’t I see this sooner?”

This way, he wouldn’t have to take the life of his sweet sister.  You’d be safe, you had potential. Once he pumped you full of his seed, you’d have no choice but to create and carry another just like him. 

[altamont498]

I posted 6,085 times in 2022

That's 2,814 more posts than 2021!

90 posts created (1%)

5,995 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@somethingscarlet13

@homoclothes

@plaidsquid41030

@vampireautism

@queenmorningrose

I tagged 382 of my posts in 2022

#the great ace attorney - 37 posts

#altamont498 - 37 posts

#bungo stray dogs - 17 posts

#ryunosuke naruhodo - 14 posts

#long post - 14 posts

#ace attorney - 14 posts

#club penguin - 11 posts

#lupin the third - 10 posts

#nsft - 10 posts

#youtube - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#''i am leaving to set up a retirement home for elderly goldfish on top of mt. kilimanjaro. my last day will be march 20th

I sent 2 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Unfriendly reminder that the image description/alt text option on website builders and social media platforms is there for you to describe images for people that are reliant on screenreaders.

It's not there for you to put in some hidden snarky comment or to use in lieu of a caption or an image credit.

[Image is described in alt text]

208 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

#4

With everything that’s going on at the minute, it’s probably a good time to remember how to spot a scam, because they’re not always obvious and you aren’t necessarily immune to them on account of age or intelligence level.

The following are genuine examples of scams that have been reported by others on the internet. They are not intended to be exclusive or exhaustive and are used for illustrative purposes only.

Seems too good to be true

Like something for nothing or an unusually large discount on something that’s usually hard to come by or very expensive.

Came from out of the blue

Someone claiming to be your internet provider calls up saying there’s an issue with your device or internet connection, even though both have been working fine all morning.

Account details/Access requested

Someone claiming to be from your bank calls up asking to confirm your account details for security purposes, or asks for you to download a program to resolve an issue with your internet banking which will allow them to control your device remotely.

Money or vouchers requested

A relative calls up and asks for money out of the blue, saying that they’re in a foreign country and have been injured and that doctors refuse to treat them until they’ve been paid, and that they need you to sort out payment for them.

Or: Someone from the tax office calls up saying you’re £500 on taxes and you need to send them Amazon vouchers right away.

’

Disguised or under Duress

Someone calls up claiming to be from the police, saying that they’re investigating counterfeit currency and need you to withdraw £2500 to hand to a courier. They tell you to tell the clerk it’s for a birthday present for your spouse if they ask you why you need such a large amount of money and not to tell them the real reason why, or else you’ll end up going to jail.

If any of the above fit the bill or sound very similar to what someone is asking you to do, there’s a chance you could get SCAM’D.

And if you do happen to fall for scams, make sure you tell the authorities or your bank right away as they may be able to put a stop to them (no organisation known by an acronym wants anyone impersonating them) and maybe able to recover some or all of your money.

Don’t feel embarrassed about it—scammers can often exploit our “off” days.

227 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

#3

[This image is alt text enabled]

275 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

#2

It is not enough for me to stretch after a 7 hour shift in work. I need someone to pick me up and wring me like a wet cloth.

356 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Shout out to the people not doing Inktober, Flufftober, NaNoWriMo, etc. this year (or any year) for whatever reason.

Because they have prior work commitments (retail/service can be hell this time of year).

Because they’re too busy with school work or exam prep.

Because they’re dealing with chronic conditions and illnesses.

Because they have poor mental health and want to prioritise that.

Have other personal priorities and commitments.

Because they have no ideas or are between projects.

Because they don’t have energy.

Because they just don’t bloody well want to thank you very much.

You aren’t any less valid as an artist/writer/creator, and can’t/shouldn’t be pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do or made to feel bad about it.

This list is not intended to be exclusive or exhaustive, additions are welcomed.

P.S Not intended to be hate on anyone who does actually participate or enjoy these monthly challenges.

3,664 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[pepsiwriteswords]

🖊 + for whichever oc you'd like to talk about! :3c

!!!! :D

Okay! I thought I wanted to talk about Orym bc I love per so much but. Apparently I can only ramble to myself or in a discord chat. xP So. I'm gonna scroll through my WIPs and just ... pick.

You get: Whatever words come out about Distant Light's minor/supporting characters! (so, way more characters than 1 pen emoji, whoops. xD)

We've got Jax's crew, Serenity's team (assuming I ever get around to naming any of them), and I guess Jaylon should have at least a couple colleagues to mention/think about, huh? xP

So! (going under a cut bc ofc it got long, I decided to talk about so many characters, and didn't even get around to Jay's potential colleagues. xD)

Prism Crew: Erendiz (ey/em or it/its), Yildiz (she/they), Zesiro (he/she/they), and Test_0374 (it/its). ^^ Erendiz & Yildiz are siblings, named so purely because the names mean Jupiter & star respectively & it seemed fitting for sci-fi. xP (also, fun fact: deciding to give Erendiz it/its pronouns is what made me try them out for myself and uh, huh. xP) Zesiro is the eldest person on the ship & has a sibling of their own, though we won't be meeting them in the book. (I haven't even named them or anything. I just know They Exist xP) Test is the ship's AI, and is named Test for 2 reasons: 1) I am a lazy bitch who doesn't know science or technology terms & didn't want to spend a year trying to come up with a workable acronym, and 2) Jax is its creator and they are also a lazy bitch who didn't want to name an AI until it worked, and by the time it did (presumably attempt #374 lol), they were attached to 'test' & it stuck. Erendiz is covered in freckles, knows how to throw knives, can set fire to anything, & is the other computer genius-type on the ship. Yildiz dyes her hair blue - sometimes the ends, sometimes halfway up, sometimes all the way, it varies. But it's always blue. She's the sharpshooter, and she's ace so she might not fuck the cosmic horror but she'll absolutely try to romance it. Zesiro ... might be a cyborg. or something. I dunno, I saw a cool picture & brain said 'ooh, DL' & everything except the Main 3 & the aliens are very malleable right now. xP knows how to use a gun, prefers some kind of sword. bc Cool. nonbinary lesbian, usually playing Voice of Reason bc everyone else is like. 23, max and she is Tired. & Test! I love the idea of Test, but I haven't quite figured out what kind of AI I want it to be. Like. No 'taking over the world/sending all the humans out the airlock' kinda plot line here; we're sticking to the aliens, but. outside of it throwing Shayde & Malle under the bus as soon as they step on board, I haven't got much for it as a character of its own. Also it will probably threaten to start building itself a body to physically make Jax be a reasonable human being, but idk. xD I got Really Attached to these guys immediately after creating them, but then the inability to stick to one project came back around to bite me & the antagonist polycule took over my brain, so like. I've got nothing for them now. ;_;

The Aeris crew! They're a medical team! Funded by the gov't/one of the Main 3's family. This is another area where my knowledge is ... less than fuzzy & I haven't even started on research-type tasks bc I managed like. 2 personal rambles about the Main 3 & my brain went 'cool, cool, you're gonna think about BP now, and ooh, look at that prompt over there!' and what can I do but roll with the motivation? Anyway! I'm gonna say there are ... hmm, what's a reasonable number ... maybe 10 medical professionals total, but I'm only gonna name like. 3. because this cast is already Big & I get attached way too easily, apparently. xD So Imma just throw some names down on here & see what I can come up with. Morana, bc according to this thing it means death/illness & I like the thought of like ... I dunno if any of your teachers at school had you do this, but one of my language arts teachers in middle school had us look up the meanings of our names. I don't remember why. Anyway, I like the thought of this like, 12-year-old seeing 'death, illness' and thinking something along the lines of 'no, I don't think I will' & going on to be the exact opposite. I could probably come up with some very angsty backstory things to justify this name but we're just gonna move on lol Saren, bc I've been looking at names for a long time now & it's after midnight so. Name. Liable to change, except for how it probably never will now bc I said that. XD Went to do medical stuff in space bc ... potentially shady reasons. bc why not. Make everyone shady! Oh wait, shit, maybe -- no, wait - well. Well. Hm. might have a 'loyal to the Wrong Side except for in this one specific case' kinda deal happening here. >.> & ... Chayim. Again, bc I've been looking at names for a While. xP But also bc according to a thing it means life and, well. I have 'death/illness' up there, so why not lol. probably went to space to make First Contact, just to find out someone beat them to it. xD

...Okay. It's after midnight & I am tired. I quite literally forgot about Jay's potential colleague(s) until I scrolled back up to add the read more. xP I hope this isn't terrible-awful-difficult to read; I just didn't want a gazillion-mile long post & the way tumblr does its spacing bothers me T_T I will ... maybe remember to take notes on Reni's team at work later & might even decide on a Jaylon colleague or two xP. Or maybe I'll forget all about all this & try to figure out UWKM stuff again. Who knows? Not me!

Okay, bed. XD

[ki-sanna]

Introducing the BTpetS! Feat. the maknae line

Click for better quality

I decided to do an animal au series for bangtan's anniversary week

Hyung line up next