#phone clone service

[ssruis]

Going through a straight up comical amount of irritating situations to get the stupid 4* guaranteed ticket from the welcome to sekai campaign. It Will Be Mine.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC xDP fanfic idea: One hell of a good Bellhop

Danny and Jazz Fenton get a chance of a lifetime after a whirlwind of dimension displacement. It's hard to explain how it happened. One minute, they were visiting Clockwork, having tea with their surrogate grandfather, and the next, they were being attacked by what appeared to be woolly mammoths standing on two legs and carrying weapons.

Clockwork had dispatch to take them head on- timeline pests he called them- but in the confusion Danny and Jazz were taken by suprised, stuffed into sacks and thrown through a whirlpool turned portal that spit them out in a new world.

They tried to call Clockwork for help, but it was as if though the Ghost Zone was blocked by some power. Danny at least still had his ghost powers and Jazz was equipped with the standard Fenton weapons on her person, but that wasn't much help when between the two of them they had sixty dollars and thirty four cents to their names.

Drivers' invalid licenses, phones that weren't connected to any service, and maybe worse of all, no actual identity to speak of.

The Fentons simply didn't exist in this world. Not even their four fathers. The two were at a loss on what to do- for about three months. Then they put their Fenton intelligence to use and hacked into a hotel.

It was a run-down place in the heart of downtown Gotham- the place that the portal shot them to was Metropolis. Still, people paid way too much attention to homeless minors there, so they had to move after dodging a weird underwear guy who kept trying to capture Danny. Apparently, he thought Danny was a "Kryptonian Clone". Fruitloop.

Jazz thought they were the only guests in the Hotel, which is why the owner was so happy to host them for weeks instead of a few days. He was a sweet old man named Charles who was far too old to work but couldn't afford the staff, so he did everything himself.

Jazz felt an awful pity seeing him sit at his counter, staring hopefully at the door for any new guests whenever she returned from her work. It was heartbreaking to see Charles' eyes dim whenever the closing time came, and once again, no one stopped by. At this point, he kept the hotel open in a sad, broken dream.

Where did she work? Danny didn't know, but Jazz made him swear she would handle their expenses. She kept a tight lip on her day, and since Danny had no documentation to go to school with, he found himself helping Charles with maintenance.

He has no license to do anything, but Danny has been installing electricity, water pipes, and anything in between since he was young. FentonWorks always needed something fixed, after all.

He even went out and "borrowed" some paint cans to give the old place a little touch-up. Charles' eyes watered when he saw.

"My wife and I meet at this hotel, you know," Charles tells him one day as Danny patches up some old bricks. He runs to find the old man, gently running his hand along the fireplace. A picture of two young people dancing in the Hotel Lobby—back when it was new and shiny—is hanging right over it. It's easy to see it's Charles and his late wife, Sally.

"Of course, that was back in the forties—a few years after the war and before Gotham was crime-infested. We always wanted to run this place together. We worked two jobs, and when we finally had enough, we bought it from the old owners when they announced they were closing down. We were so happy and ran it together for a year, but then she got sick. Really sick. I was told to give up on the Hotel when I lost her. No one saw a reason when it was obviously failing, but it's the last thing I have of her, you know?"

Danny's lips wobble. He thinks back to hours and hours of tracing the Fenton Works logo on all his new clothes. It looks stupid but, gosh its the last thing he has of his parents since they been sepreated too.

"Yeah" His voice catches "Yeah I know. Did you two ever have children?"

Charles shakes his head. "Salley couldn't have kids, and no matter how many times we applied, we were never approved for adoption. Then we were too old."

"I'm sorry Charles"

"That's alright, my boy." The man's smile is just as heartbreaking and sad as it is soft. "It's something I accepted long ago. "

Danny decided then and there that he would save this hotel if it was the last thing he did. Danny wasn't aware that his Ghost Powers launched onto that oath and sent out a flair, turning Gotham's Fog Lodge into his new haunt.

This meant that overnight, Danny's haunt was carefully bettering itself as a reflection of Danny's happiness. It made it look brand new among all the old and falling apart scenery.

No one knew why or how, but it looked just as Charles remembered it in the glory days.

Danny decided they couldn't compete with large chain hotels, so he made it an experience instead. He did Era events using his experience with the different parts of the Ghost Zone as references.

Soon Gotham was hearing of the Victorian Era Ball—a chance to dress up and dance the old ways with antique clothing of that period.

But Danny didn't stop there.

Disco parties. Nineties garage bands. Murder mysteries nights from the roaring twenties. Even the props were so realistic that people swore they stepped into the time from when arriving for their events.

People started calling, hoping to book in advance, and Charles burst into tears the first night Danny told them they ran out of rooms.

Since it was Danny's haunt, he could complete all the work by himself, having the hotel help him along the way. No one knew why or how, but somehow it was always clean, food was always prepared whenever someone needed it, and bags would be up into their rooms without actually seeing the Bellhop pass getting them at the door.

Not a single staff member in sight, either.

Charles suspected Danny was meta, and he was using his powers to be one hell of a good host. Everyone else thought the place was haunted by staff made entirly of ghosts, and that somehow made it more appealing.

Jazz's new boss thought it a little too good to be accurate, but he was so good at keeping records and organizing that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she did mention she had a meta brother she was desperately trying to protect.

If there was one thing Red Hood knew, it was that desperate people turned to crime the most. If he could keep someone like Jazz Fenton away from working with the nutjobs of Gotham, he would have been doing one thing better for the city.

As far as Jazz was aware, she was only an assistant/secretary to an obvious front masquerading as an insurance company, and if she pretended not to notice all the crime, she could feed Danny and help Charles.

Charles, for his part, never said it, but he thinks if he and Sally had been able to have grandchildren, they would have been exactly like Jazz and Danny.

He may have let it be implied at one point, and the misunderstanding spreads that he is their grandfather. None of the three make haste to correct it.

Gotham Fog Lodge starts to gain traction around the same time it captures the eye of one very intrigued billionaire. Bruce Wayne keeps an eye on the business but decided to let Jason make the call since the grandduaghter's owner works for him. '

Surely, he would step in if something malicious was going on.

[incorrectbatfam]

Why did the batfam get turned down for a job?

Interviewer: How much experience do you have with kids?

Dick: *flashbacks to prying Tim and Damian apart while Jason eggs them on*

Dick: A good amount.

———————

Interviewer: Can you pass a criminal background check?

Jason: No.

———————

Interviewer: We got a reference from your old coworker, Alvin Draper.

Tim: Oh, that was fast.

Interviewer: He says you suck.

Tim: Pfft, yeah. Some old workplace beef. You think he'd be over it by now.

———————

Interviewer: Do you have a valid driver's license?

Damian: Tt. Age limit this, driver's license that. If this was truly a free country I can get by without one.

Interviewer: Normally I'd agree with you, but we're a traveling petting zoo.

———————

Interviewer: Tell me about—

Killer Croc: *throws a car outside the window*

Duke: Um... gotta use the restroom. Be right back.

[10 minutes later]

Duke: *slides into his chair*

Duke: Where were we?

Interviewer: I was asking you about—

Scarecrow: *plants a fear gas bomb across the street*

Duke: I think my phone's ringing. One moment please.

———————

Interviewer: It says here you were fired from the movie theater. Can you tell me why?

Cullen: I spoiled the end credit scenes of Marvel movies.

Interviewer: And how can we be sure it won't happen here?

Cullen: This is Hot Topic, right?

———————

Stephanie: —long story short, I decided "to heck with it" and went to prom with an inflatable Riddler clone named Fernando. I'm sorry, what was your question again?

Interviewer: ...How are you?

———————

Cassandra: *shows up*

Interviewer: For the last time, we're not hiring!

———————

Barbara: There's a typo in your job posting. I also found that your LinkedIn page needs to be updated. Here is my full analysis with all my suggestions. And of course, assuming your application portal is up to date, you can see that I meet all of the qualifications.

Interviewer: Except you must be 35 to run for president.

———————

Interviewer: Why do you want this job?

Harper: Money.

Interviewer: Other than that.

Harper: *thinks for a second*

Harper: No that's it.

———————

Interviewer: What's your greatest strength?

Carrie: I'm double-jointed. I can bend my fingers like this. See?

———————

Interviewer: Please explain this gap in your resumé.

Kate: Don't tell me what to do.

———————

Interviewer: Have you ever stolen from your workplace?

Selina: Never.

*interviewer's wallet falls from Selina's pant leg*

———————

Interviewer: And why should Wayne Enterprises hire you?

Bruce: My name is literally on the building.

———————

Interviewer: We're sorry, Mr. Pennyworth, I don't think you'll be a good fit for us. I heard the Waynes are hiring next door, though.

Alfred: This is preposterous.

Alfred: *leaves*

Alfred: *goes next door*

Alfred: Good afternoon, I am here for—

Martha: Oh thank heavens, he's here.

Thomas: We're late for our conference. Keys are under the mat, the bed still needs to be made, and the baby took a huge crap just now.

Martha: *hands over baby Bruce*

Alfred: I supposed I'm hired then?

Baby Bruce: *blows a snot bubble*

Alfred, chuckling: At your service, young master.

[catscidr]

Could I request head canons with reader who likes to cook and clean and is basically like a house wife. Dottore and Childe please ☺️

(oﾟ◇ﾟ)ﾉ perhaps you can............. i did my best to try to make these not too redundant , so forgive me if they're a little repetitive sometimes. the tldr is just that they love their cute wife (you) shgjngfns ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff! domestic fluff!! talks of food, mentions of having a family, childe's part gets a teensy bit suggestive includes: fem!reader, dottore and his clones, tartaglia wc: 1,2k

-ˋˏ It’s a popular headcanon that Dottore has a sweet tooth and I’m here to contribute to it bc I’m a firm believer in the Man Bad But Secretly Soft trope.......

-ˋˏ You often find yourself baking desserts for him to eat when he gets home from work and, on the rare occasions that he’s home while you’re baking, you make him taste-test the dessert you’re currently making 

-ˋˏ He’s actually decent at baking (it’s just food science and he’s The Science Guy), however he doesn’t particularly enjoy doing it. But you do! You love doing acts of service for him, which is why you got promoted from housewife to personal-pastry-and-dessert-expert housewife (said endearingly) 

-ˋˏ Good ol’ chocolate chip cookies, maple pudding, red velvet cake, lemon meringue pie, tiramisu, mille-feuille; you'd make so many desserts that he had to buy a chef-grade refrigerator on top of your regular fridge to store them. Not that he minded of course, but sometimes he’d lightly scold you for making so many unhealthy foods (all the while being a hypocrite himself because he’s the one enabling you) 

-ˋˏ Has a mini fridge in his office full of desserts (and the occasional homemade sandwich, for variety). He always has to restock it because his segments always get into it and eat his sweets that you made for him 

-ˋˏ When he tells you about it you end up giving him two extra tupperware containers full of sweets that you insist he gives to his segments, especially the younger ones. If he doesn’t, you’ll just show up to his lab and give your freshly baked desserts to them yourself 

-ˋˏ Sometimes Dottore tries to bake with you, but you always get frustrated that he never makes the desserts look nice. He just takes up space in your shared kitchen when he tries to help; which you tell him that by staying out of your way he’s helping 

-ˋˏ You’re also the designated cook since he doesn’t really have any skills in the kitchen outside of knowing the technical stuff. The man is too busy fiddling with machines and organs to know about how to properly sear a steak 

-ˋˏ His favorite meal of yours is a simple steak paired with a good, dry Malbec. You’re always setting up the table when he gets back from work, to which he always hugs you from the back to greet you. One time you didn’t hear him come in and you accidentally dropped the plate you were holding (you made him eat it as punishment. five second rule) 

-ˋˏ On the rare times he works from home you insist that he doesn’t need to help you with chores, no matter how much he offers (which wasn’t that often to begin with, but at least he offered. like..... once). Instead, he’d get settled on the kitchen table while you wash the dishes, vacuum, etc 

-ˋˏ Some days you’d be in comfortable silence, while on other days you’d listen to him ranting about how irritating his coworkers are, or about how much he wants to fire some of his underlings because they’re “so incompetent”. Thankfully you can calm him down before he,, makes an angry phone call 

-ˋˏ You don’t get the chance to visit him at work that often, so you revel in the times where he’s able to work from home. But since you can’t go see him that often, it means you don’t see his clones either 

 -ˋˏ The older segments would refrain from asking about you (because you’re Prime’s wife, not theirs. he’s yelled at them multiple times about it. bro’s possessive) while the younger ones would consistently bother him about your whereabouts. He insists that he hates it when they ask, but inwardly he imagines how you’d take care of them. (is it to heal his inner child or to imagine how good of a mother you could be? maybe both, but he wouldn’t admit to the former) 

✧✧✧ 

-ˋˏ Childe would have been your housewife if he wasn’t a Harbinger. point blank 

-ˋˏ Buuuut, since he isn’t, he makes sure to take care of you. You’re always cleaning after him, cleaning him sometimes, and overall taking up more tasks than he thought you could (should) chew. Of course, you did it all out of love and didn’t expect him to owe you anything, but he’d feel bad if he didn’t help at least a little bit 

-ˋˏ So once or twice a week (depending on when his schedule allows it) you’ll both be cleaning the house and doing chores together 

-ˋˏ You’re both listening to music while sweeping the floor, reorganizing the pantry, wiping down the counters..... getting as much done as you can before Childe decides he’d rather have you sat up on a counter while he nestles himself closer to you 

-ˋˏ He always buys the best appliances for your sake since you’re the one that’s home most of the time. That one really expensive, cordless vacuum cleaner you saw at the store? He bought it. A duster with a retractable handle that can help you reach the top of shelves without you needing to stand on a chair to clean? Childe bought it before you could even ask. That really cute cherry-shaped deep dish with matching baking utensils you saw at the store together? He’s carrying it to your car right now 

-ˋˏ Though while he does buy really useful things, he balances it out by getting you unnecessary items. Like a frilly pink apron with Kiss the cook embroidered in cursive on it, or a soup ladle that looks like the Loch Ness monster but I digress 

-ˋˏ Childe is 100% a family man- so, as a result, he's thought about having his own family with you. After seeing you indulging Teucer and his siblings’ shenanigans, he absolutely wants to have kids with you and have you do things like read books to them, make them lunch to bring to school, etcetc 

-ˋˏ Loves to come back home from work to you, smelling the fresh aroma of dinner wafting in the air 

-ˋˏ He loves your cooking!! Can’t get enough of it, especially when he comes back from training and he’s all spent. Whether it be your homemade soup, a hearty meaty meal, or a pasta dish he’ll always devour whatever you make 

-ˋˏ You make extra portions of chicken, steak, whatever protein-filled meal when he’s bulking so he can bring leftovers to work to eat them after sparring sessions. It makes everyone else jealous (which is partly his intention lol) 

-ˋˏ Boasts about you to his coworkers and agents below him, always saying “my wife” with a lovesick smile on his face 

-ˋˏ Has a whole bunch of photos of you in his office, ranging from cute candid pictures to professional, framed photos on his desk, and a tasteful polaroid of you in his wallet. Adores showing you off to others (except the photo he has in his wallet, of course. that’s for his eyes only), so much so that sometimes his underlings try to come up with excuses to leave because he goes on and on and on........ what can he say, he loves his cute housewife !!

[sirellas]

post canon ds9 fic i won't write for real, in bullet points:

story starts with jake sisko, pondering and writing. he got a commission from some federation news service to do a fluff piece on "the soul of the klingon people" now that the war is over and they have a new chancellor, essentially a "look federation people, klingons are still chill. maybe chiller, even. so everybody be cool" deal (i'm imagining they have to do an article like this for every group of aliens that were a major combatant in the war) but jake takes it seriously and refuses to phone it in.

first he goes to alexander, who's visiting the station while between KDF assignments or something idk. but he says look buddy i wanna know what's up with klingons, you get me? alexander does not get him and also would like to know what's up with klingons, so he says hell yeah human friend let's figure this out.

then it becomes a series of vignettes of these two kind of out of touch young people learning about the klingon spirit and also themselves as they seek out someone who can tell them the secrets of life and honor etc etc. jake has a warped sense of normal from growing up on ds9 and alexander has never felt right in solely klingon or human spaces, so they have some gaps in their knowledge to fill.

i'm thinking they start with worf and martok, who are busy on qo'nos building their credibility and new government. worf isn't great at talking about feelings and martok's being pulled in a lot of different directions, so they're not much help. hanging around on qo'nos is interesting, but ultimately not what jake and alexander are looking for either.

then they start thinking outside the box. order isn't important but they start hitting up all relevant klingons and klingon adjacent folk: darok, sirella, ezri, nikolai, kurn, maybe a duras sisters cameo for equal representation of shitty klingons.

last we saw of kurn of course he had lost his memory but since this is my fic i'm not writing i'm gonna say bashir's not as great at brain reconfiguration as he thinks he is and it didn't take fully. so he's a little confused but getting the hang of it. a lot of "which one of you is my nephew again? i can't tell humans apart" kind of deal even though alexander is 3/4 klingon. he tells them what he's re-learned about klingons since he's been rebuilding his own identity.

nikolai also was essentially exiled but it's fine. he's got a gaggle of kids now and alexander and jake have to do the fake forehead thing to blend in while they talk to him. nikolai's got a lot of insight into worf as a brother but not much on klingons as a whole. alexander brings him some pierogi helena made.

alexander: "wow my foster uncle's wife looks a lot like your stepmom, isn't that funny?" jake: "nah i don't see the resemblance"

maybe at this point nog joins them because he's having his own identity crisis as the only ferengi in starfleet so he decides to just hop on board for jake and alexander's identity crisis.

they go see jeremy aster too, the kid from tng who became worf's brother through a whole thing, and he's got a pretty interesting view of klingons and the klingon spirit from an outsider/insider perspective.

sirella and darok are probably the least helpful but i think sirella baby-ing alexander would be fun. they're both trying to deny it and deny how much they like the attention (sirella at having a new-ish nephew-ish and one who wasn't raised klingon so she can do all the classic klingon things with him fresh, and alexander at having a(nother) mother figure to love him). jake is studiously taking notes in the corner while sirella tries to teach him how to skin a fresh kill or something like that.

anyway this whole journey ends with them finding kahless 2 (the clone of kahless) whose only occupation is thinking about the klingon spirit. but his wisdom boils down to "everyone's different and everyone has to figure shit out on their own, but together we can strive to be greater than yesterday" etc etc and jake gets his article. alexander reaffirms his grasp on his cultural identity and also gets to see a lot of his family so he's reminded that he's loved, even if everyone is doing their own thing. and nog develops a huge crush on sirella. everybody's happy.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

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

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

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

What are these acronyms?

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

This week, we have thirteen fics that feature both sexual and magical experimentation! Check them out underneath the cut, and don't forget to comment or kudos if you like them:

Artificer Devices from Late-Period Aeor: An Experimental Interpretation from Arcane Reconstruction to Functionality (E. Thelyss, C. Widogast) by renquise (5858, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

caleb and essek find a fuck machine in their travels in aeor. caleb descides to recreate it for essek.

Reccer says: Unique ideas and lovingly written! Hot and tender at once

Mitosis by queenbeetle (4325, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

caleb learns simulacrum and essek is eager to push his limits, and what's a bunch of wizards in one place?

Reccer says: Absolutely scorching hot!

Spell Slut by First_Mate (10627, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A series of one-shots in which Essek conducts sexy magic experiments with Caleb as his very willing test subject.

Reccer says: There is a level of honesty here that I appreciate: this is gratuitous smut, absolutely prurient id fic, and it’s immensely fun to read!

Harnessing Gravity by TiliaC0rdata (12338, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes, Choose Not to Warn

Caleb and Essek do a BDSM session with role play and magic

Reccer says: I like the creative role play and inventive uses of magic for sex. And the smut is hot.

Rules of Attraction by Defiler_Wyrm (10074, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek discover that Caleb enjoys restraint under certain circumstances, and their next magic lesson involves an experiment with graviturgy.

Reccer says: Graviturgy bondage, my belovèd!

(Oh,) How a Human Burns by witches_chant (18318, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, erotic asphyxiation

This is a story about Essek trying to prepare for eventual loss, depending on if Caleb wants to use the Clone spell or not. But it’s also a story about a lazy, sexy vacation on Rumblecusp where the couple stumble upon a service top and learn things about their relationship.

Reccer says: It’s sexy, it’s feelsy, it’s kinky, it has Essek Domming two men at once via telepathy, I LOVE this fic!

The Idea of You by Defiler_Wyrm (33621, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek uses the Dream spell to treat Caleb to a long-distance vacation of incredible, impossible sex.

Reccer says: If you want a treasure trove of sexy misuse of magic, this is a treasure trove. It’s both hot and sweet. The illustrations are amazing too!

Caleb Kind Of Fucks Up by Im_sorry_dont_judge_me (9213, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb misses Essek. Essek calls and has terrible (or maybe great) timing.

Reccer says: Accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism that turns into intentional magic phone sex? I am HERE for it!

Break me, Mend me by kaiannae (21835, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb feels like shit. Essek gives him a means of escaping himself for a while.

Reccer says: The aftercare is really given breathing room. This is a great look at how kink & BDSM specifically can be therapeutic.

the ties that bind you hold my heart by LivThael (4330, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent

Caleb gets tied up and plowed; he & Essek talk about even kinkier things they’d like to do.

Reccer says: Smoking hot and very sweet! This is one of those fics that proves that Prestidigitation is one of the best sex spells.

Wie’s Tier (tear down my reason) by Defiler_Wyrm (11080, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, Beastiality, monster sex, sex with sentient animals

Essek’s magic experiment goes haywire. When Caleb arrives he finds Essek transformed… and a lot less inhibited about what he wants. It’s not how either of them imagined their first time going, but it’s not that bad after all…

Reccer says: This is a real guilty pleasure. It pushes some limits but in a fun way. It borders on crack treated seriously sometimes & I feel like that enhances the “this is a fantasy” vibe

Pop Quiz by CatgirlTheCrazy (1250, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: consentacles

Essek gives Caleb a little quiz, with delightful distractions and a fun prize for a passing grade.

Reccer says: It’s both really hot and very silly!

The Voyeur of Utter Destruction (As Beauty) by Foxtrot66 (8824, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent

Essek is enjoying a romantic evening with Caleb when he is suddenly summoned as an echo to lend a helping hand (and other parts) to a rather different romantic evening.

Reccer says: Caleb Widogast getting utterly spoiled while two Esseks jostle each other over who can do it better. It's also illustrated.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with one of our recurring themes: Hidden Gems!

[animentality]

How many times are y'all gonna fawn and gush and fall for Disney dragging yet another actor back to the franchise in a desperate attempt to keep people subscribed to their streaming service?

Hayden Christiansen was even already on a new Star Wars show.

What next, they drag on Alex Guinness's corpse?

Are you going to piss yourselves with ecstasy when they pull back Natalie Portman for a five second cameo that she filmed on her phone?

Are you going to cut off your fingers and toes and mail them to Bob Iger when Carrie Fisher's corpse is tied to strings and danced like a marionette in the newest episode of The Return of the Death Star Star Death: Returning Actor of the Week: Anthony Daniels?

It's always been eye roll inducing but now it's just sad.

How many times can they do this, and still have you weirdos clapping and screaming and frothing at the mouth?

I normally just don't care about other people's entertainment choices, because God knows you have the right to be a fucking idiot, but I really wonder how long Star Wars and Marvel can continue to parade corpses before a rapt-eyed slack jawed audience of buffoons who love a little necrophilia.

I also despise what Marvel and Star Wars have done to entertainment. Multiverses as an excuse to shoehorn in old actors and dead actors and overdose you on memberberries. Endless cameos that rely entirely on older, more original stories that have already been told before. Interconnected universes with none of the narrative consistency that could make them interesting, used primarily so that you can ooh and ahh as you see actors from the 90s reprising roles, for the sole purpose of nostalgia baiting.

I'm so sick of Disney. I'm so sick of star wars products. I'm so sick of marvel drivel.

I'm so sick of blockbusters like Indiana Jones 6 and Transformers Rise of Beasts and endless sequels and remakes and retools.

Make. New. Fucking. Things.

Ahsoka was already bad enough for existing purely to satisfy Dave Filoni's fetish for his own character. Giving her a solo show was banking entirely on your love for the clone wars.

Bring back Hayden...how bad was ahsoka doing?

Book of Boba Fett must've been doing far worse, because that random episode of the mandalorian plopped inside of it was Disney desperately trying to backpedal and bring back its audience.

Maybe if the ratings don't improve they'll bring back Jango Fett or something so you can go make your gifs and your tiktoks and your gushing posts about how exciting it was for you.

And before you even ask or start drafting something, no.

I was not soliciting opinions on this.

[imnotsimpingyouare]

ENAMORED (II)

Modern Hantengu clones X Reader

Featuring:

"Pissed Cubicle Worker" Sekido

"Depressed Programmer" Aizetsu

"That Guy in the Alley" Karaku

"Unfunny YouTube Prankster" Urogi

"Disappointed Grandpa" Hantengu

"Delinquent Middle Schooler" Zohakuten

"Possibly a Criminal" Akaza

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

You will NOT be shipped with Zohakuten or Hantengu because:

A.) One is an old man

B.) One is a young boy

Ty for your time 😌

fem!Y/N goes for her last job with Murata's Service Emporium 😢 but gets an interesting offer due to her *OUTSTANDING* work.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Hantengu.

You've heard of that household. They order some sort of cleaning service every month or so. Only, it's never been you that has gone before, so how exactly do you know about their service requests?

BECAUSE APPARENTLY THEY'RE FUCKING INSANE.

Some of the other employees have literally returned from the job crying.

WHICH INCLUDES, BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO TERRY THE GARDENER! A TALL, BUFF MAN!

WHAT DEMON IN THAT HOUSE IS MAKING A GROWN MAN CRY LIKE THAT? WHY DOES YOUR BOSS HATE YOU? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST CURL UP IN A BALL AND FOSSILIZE.

You sigh. A big sigh. A really, really long sigh.

If you had the heart to, you would've quit the moment your boss revealed he was going to fire you, only.. you knew it was like him to try and withhold your paycheck for the week if you did. Obviously, he can't do that if you've done your job on schedule for any amount of time, but you're not gonna jump through flaming hoops just to stick it to the guy.

Easier to just get this over with.

You grab your supplies and load your car.

Yes, they make you use your own transport for this job. No, they don't pay for gas.

Maybe losing this job won't be so bad after all.

Starting up the map on your phone, you type in the adress of this demon house and get ready to be very fucking miserable for however long you spend there.

The clouds are grey this morning, as they are every morning, but this morning is different. Maybe it's because you fell down two flights of stairs. Maybe it's because you held some handsome guy's hand this morning when he helped you up. Maybe it's because you literally just got fired like 10 minutes ago. But something is different.

○○○○○

Unbeknownst to you, in the opposite lane of traffic, Sekido is screaming at the cars infront of him.

Nevermind, it's not just Sekido. In some strange sort of... brotherly bonding ritual, both Sekido and Zohakuten are screaming at the car infront of them (which is going the speed limit).

"WHY WON'T YOU PRESS YOUR DAMN GAS? THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT HERE WITH JOBS AND SHITHEADS WITH SCHOOL! 20 ABOVE THE LIMIT NEVER KILLED ANYBODY!"

"...Sekido, I think 20 above the limit has killed people. BUT THOSE PEOPLE WERE GOING TOO DAMN SLOW!"

Sekido's grey minivan pulled up to the school. Zohakuten grabbed his bag and opened the door, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"...Zohakuten."

Red eyes met his, and he felt slightly uncomfortable at how calm Sekido was managing to be.

"....what."

"....one day."

"wha–"

"One day without doing some stupid shit to get sent home or to the principal's office. If you do, I'll... I don't fucking know, have the gods come down and kiss you on the nose one by one. Just be good. Ok?" He said, almost in a... defeated tone.

Zohakuten, for a moment, was dumbfounded. Had Aizetsu taken over Sekido's body? Was this some sort or trick? Who did he think he was? It's not his fault he'll never use this crap again. Nor is it his fault that some of the kids are little shitheads.

Instead of saying all this, out of respect for Sekido's effort to be *nice*

(Literally, beads of sweat were beginning to form on Sekido's face, and he looked constipated)

....he nodded.

"Okay. I want ice cream after school."

And shut the car door.

Sekido was left by himself, face immediately breaking back into that scowl he wore so well.

"Fucking ice cream. I might as well get him a horse and a spaceship while I'm servicing His Majesty. Seriously, how hard is it not to throw desks?"

○○○○○

Your car stopped infront of a mansion.

Maybe not a mansion, but.. it was something.

A three story house with 2 vehicles in front (AND A MOTORCYCLE?). However, the only decorations in front were a little knome and a set of windchimes. You could also faintly hear "Barbie Girl" playing from somewhere in the home.

At the very least, it was... a flattering home. The outside didn't look too bad, but you were at least slightly concerned about the inside.

You knocked on the door, cleaning supplies in hand.

"Murata's Service Emporium!"

The door creaked open slightly, before opening to reveal a rather handsome, dark-skinned man in nothing but a towel and.... a face mask and hair curlers.

His eyes were a deep emerald green, a complete contrast from his skin that you were HERE FOR.

He looked you up and down, before turning his attention back into the house. "Aizetsu! Your escort is here!"

Immediately your face turned red. "Wha- did you not hear what I said when I knocked!?"

He raised a brow at you.

"Service Emporium?"

Oh.

That actually sounds pretty bad when taken out of context.

"...okay, but why would I be holding all of these cleaning supplies?"

He looked down at you again.

"I don't know what freaky stuff Aizetsu's into, okay? Are you coming in or not?" He huffed.

You reluctantly waddled in and set your things down.

Oh my.

It was a disaster.

The dishes were piled sky-high, the floor SEVERELY UN-VACUUMED... you had work to do.

Another man, almost identical to the one who opened the door, approached you in a rush. His eyes, though, were blue, and significantly more lifeless than the guy before him.

"I'm sorry.. I am Aizetsu. As you can see, our house is a disaster... sorry."

And he walked away.

THAT WAS ALL HE HAD TO SAY?

WAS HE EVEN GOING TO PAY YOU?

HE'S JUST GONNA LEAVE?

You were starting to understand the struggle.

○○○○○

The camera lens was clean. The audio was crisp. In his browser "solt jasz musuc backgriund" was playing.

Everything was perfect.

And now, out of his room once again, was the legendary, the one and only, greatest failed theater kid of all time..

Urogi!

And he was ready. Ready to bamboozle this busy, strangely attractive woman that wandered her way into his home. Ready. But she wasn't.

Which is what made it good content.

And good content -> motorcycle upgrades.

Which he wanted.

Very badly.

So there he was, creeping up behind you, four cans of silly string in one hand, a camera in the other.

You, on the other hand, were almost finished up here. You cleaned in and out, over and under, anywhere you could. The dishes were dried and put away, and everything was soon to be in order. The only task you had left was to sweep the kitchen. A relatively easy job. After that, you could get out of here, and... you didn't have a job to go to.

Hadn't thought of that in a while.

But there wasn't any time to think about it when you heard something being set on the counter behind you. You turned around, only to be met with a man leaping at you.

Naturally, you dodged out of the way, dropping the broom and hooking your attacker around the neck, locking him in a chokehold. All was well until a flurry of colors came flying toward you into your hair and eyes.

Immediately you were overpowered, your key sense being obstructed. You were pushed over near the sofa, being sprayed relentlessly with some sort of squishy string-like material.

You were quick to recover, and reached up to what you assumed to be the sofa, taking off one of the pillows and swinging wildly at your attacker. Terrifying laughter was heard from above you, and you overturned them until you had them in prime suffocating position. Moments into your retaliation, you pulled some of the strange material off of your face, only to see the face of both people you met earlier. Except this one had yellow eyes.

You paused in your struggle with him, both of you huffing and puffing like you were about to blow someone's house away.

He stared up at you, and you stared down at him, before your gaze flickered up to the counter, only to see a camera placed there and aimed directly at the two of you.

Footsteps distracted you from this realization.

"Aizetsu? Your escort got loose. I think she got confused. Did you not tell her about being a quad?" It was the green-eyed man, back with his bunny slippers and some actual clothes, but no hair curlers or face masks.

"IM NOT A PROSTITUTE!" You snapped at him, smacking the man under you again with the pillow for good measure.

"Why the hell is there a woman on top of Urogi? Why are you just watching, Karaku? You sick fuck.."

Another voice was heard, deeper and more gruff than the rest. You looked up, and saw another man identical to all three of the others! Unlike his counterparts, this one had blood-red eyes.

"What's going on? Are you all siblings?" You said, before mentally face-pamling. Of course they're all siblings. What else would they be?

"Of course we're siblings. What else would we be? Idiot." The red-eyed man growled, before hanging his keys and stomping off to who knows where.

The man under you tapped on your forehead.

"...can I get up?"

You rolled your eyes at him, delivering another smack with the pillow before getting off of him. "You don't just sneak up on some unsuspecting person like that!" You scolded, but he didn't listen. He was already busy fiddling with his camera.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, mumbling a slew of curses before going to pick up the broom.

"So clean, so clean! It looks like this house is brand new! Where are they? The cleaner? Where are they?" A labored, weak voice sounded from the hallway. An old man appeared, and hobbled toward you. You tried backing away, but it was no use, as he grabbed your face to examine you.

"Lovely girl, lovely girl! Cleaned up everything perfectly! You're the angel who cleans up my grandsons' mess every month, are you? Lovely girl!" His voice was trembling, as were his hands.

He must be talking about the company. But before you have time to explain, he cuts you off.

"I wish to hire you, lovely girl! Lovely girl! You can live in my home, in the spare room! You can clean up and teach my grandsons how to behave! Will you? Don't leave an old man like me helpless. Their mother isn't around to teach them to behave, will you? Lovely girl?"

Your eyes widened at the offer. "..hire? Like, for money?"

The old man laughed. Well, he tried, but it came out as a cough. "For housing? Food? Anything you'd like?"

"....and for money?"

"...yes, I'll pay you weekly."

You needed time to recollect your thoughts! Living here, with unknown people? Cleaning! More cleaning!

But at least you'd have a roof over your head, and food, and 'whatever you'd like' whatever that was. And you'd even have your own money on the side. Maybe you could save for a house? To go back to school?

At that point, only Karaku and the old man were left in the room, eyes trained on you. Karaku's lips broke into a smile. He knew what your answer was going to be.

"..I'll do it."

[n7punk]

i know probably no one here gives a shit about it or listening to me specifically talking about it but i watched a great video on the watcher situation and i have thoughtsssssss so im going to spew them into the ether

tldr watcher (the former buzzfeed unsolved + worth it boys after they split from bz) did a big hype countdown for their fans... to them announcing they were launching a "streaming service" and paywalling all their content - present and PAST - behind it for 6$ a month. they totally shit on their fans saying anyone could afford it (i cant - or at least i wont for the value to me) and then they gaslit us and said it was never the plan to remove the past content even though they say it in the video and it was in the fucking variety article that launched along with the announcement.

anyway, what kind of surprises me is everyone comparing this to dropout (and now try guys) when there's another example of this that is even more relevant right now and it's roosterteeth, which is only relevant right now because they just went bankrupt. and imo, there's absolutely no comparison in value (however you feel about the content) between dropout/roosterteeth and watcher.

size: rt had a massive cast, dropout seems to have a decent amount too (only familiar with game changer, sorry). try guys has a few core members, true, but over the last few years they've been trying to diversify, bring more people in over a few videos to test the waters, and then they invested into new shows with those faces when creating their lineup for the streaming service. watcher is three guys. oh sorry four now they brought andrew on for the worth it clone 🙄 i hated that guy at buzzfeed and i hate him now lol

bloat: try guys started with a few employees working out of ned's old house and grew organically. dropout cut down significantly when they broke from college humor and budgeted until they could afford to hire more. roosterteeth started in a spare bedroom and then slowly grew into larger and larger offices over time. watcher immediately bought a massive office space in LA and then jumped to an even larger one, with 25 employees when most shows could probably be done with half as many people that end up credited! 25 employees and you upload once or twice a week if that?? that means one video has to pay for 25 people to live that week, in addition to business expenses. they want to be a large production company, so they're acting like they are without making the output or doing the research.

youtube presence: rt still uploaded most things to youtube, my understanding is dropout still posts as well, and try guys is planning to keep all their current shows on youtube, just on a schedule delay like rt did. all services have stuff exclusive to their service, but that's new, extra stuff that serves as a value-add. watcher was just going to abandon every fan that didn't pay for their service, and even after the backlash the delay is a MONTH? for rt it was just a week!

platforms: try guys is launching with the site, phone apps, and even a roku tv app! roosterteeth had an app too and dropout has phone/roku apps. watcher is launching with a single website in beta. it's a money-hungry patreon, not a streaming service with a diverse lineup of shows. calling it a streaming service is ludicrous to me.

(apparently the fan theory is that watcher caught wind of the try guys launching their own streaming service and tried to jump the gun to get ahead of them, but by god did they fumble that)

frequency: if you were a fan of one person at roosterteeth, as long as they were the main cast member of something, it was likely you could tune in to a new episode of something with them in it twice a week, sometimes every day, multiple times. like, it's insane watcher thinks they have the amount of content to justify this. and remember, roosterteeth failed! obvs it worked for a long time and there's warner bros being eager to pull the plug to contend with (not to mention the alleged embezzlement?) but youtubers should be really fucking cautious right now. try guys is launching with a catalogue of new shows they've been silently producing alongside their usual content for a year! that's the way to do it right

paid events availability: try guys used to have ticketed flagship liveshows that are all being added to the new streaming service. if you were the kind of fan who wants to go to all those, you might even save money. roosterteeth also had events like this that were exclusive to paid subscribers. watcher doesn't have anything comparable.

goodwill: i would argue this was a big contributor to why roosterteeth finally went bankrupt with all the trust (and good memories too!) lost in the scandals. dropout fans seem to be really proud of the company and how its run (i heard they're like, the only streaming service to offer residuals? thats so cool). the try guys went through their own scandal and only came out with a stronger bond with their fans for how quickly they acted (a few were lost, but my final impression in the end was we all gained respect for how they handled it). the try guys have talked about taking paycuts as the ceo to fund all this production! meanwhile watcher brags about how large their production is without ever justifying why they need it. related:

tonedeafness: supposedly the streaming service is to pay for high production value. no one is really buying that. the company is bloated and mismanaged, but the real thing was them launching a worth it clone. don't get it twisted, every ceo, part-owner, etc is to blame for this, not just the face of worth it, but no fan who is bankrolling the show themselves wants to watch someone else eat luxury food. people liked that when it was a grift on buzzfeed, not on them.

this is completely subjective but i watch three shows on watcher (unsolved, puppet history, and mystery files) and i'd have to be making 4x my salary for me to be willing to pay 6$ a month for three shows no matter how much i like them. like, i'm not paying 6$ for try guys either, but watcher being so focused on having "shows" and "seasons" makes it really easy to point to how little i really watch there versus try guys which has a big variety of stuff not tied to a specific show name. i never think about "which shows" i watch on try guys.

idk i just think roosterteeth's goliath cast and output still burning out should be brought up more when talking about (the comparatively) little 3 million subscribers watcher trying to launch their own "streaming service" when there's a pretty good cautionary tale right now - well, two when you consider how this went down lol

[possumcollege]

Apologies to my comics friends here but this is ridiculous:

Just the photo for folks who like to ZOOM!

I've been handling guns since I was 6yrs old. These are obviously not real pistols. You can tell by the screw holes in the frames, the mold/assembly lines, the undersized magwells, and the VERY clear airsoft magazines. It's a specific mix of contemporary guns too, including at least 7 H&K USPS, which cost about $1,200 each, assorted Glocks, "tactical" 1911s, and generic S&W/ Beretta autos. They're some of the most common airsoft guns. The guns that aren't obvious plastic reproductions show no wear, and "custom" features that you wouldn't see on say, smuggled military weapons being carried around by local militia in a region that is absolutely littered with cheaper older Soviet hardware. Even looted American weapons would more likely include a bunch of very beat up Beretta M9s.

Plus a random Winchester 92? Is John Wayne's ghost backing HAMAS?

This is my favorite part though:

THAT appears to be a PILE of Knights Armament PDWs and only KAC PDWs. That gun is an "experimental" rifle w/ a $3k price tag. It chambers a proprietary 6x35mm round or 300 Blackout. Not standard ammo for any major military on Earth, making it a terrible choice for guerilla fighters. 500rds of 300blk will cost you as much as a basic S&W M&P (a civilian M4 clone) in .556 if you can find it in the US. The KAC PDW is also a popular airsoft rifle since it's rare, expensive, and dripping with tacticool features. There are almost certainly more airsoft versions than real ones in the world, but I can't say for sure because I can't find a number produced online.

There are NO AKs, M4s, M16s, FN FALs- guns that might conceivably be available in numbers for insurgent militia in the region. It's not uncommon to see fighters in the Middle East still fielding WW2-era weapons, but the only other long gun I can even try to ID on that table is essentially a cowboy gun! 🤠

A refugee camp had a baker's dozen of these though. 👇

A niche gun, so unused in any real number that the sum total of its service history on Wikipedia (gun guys religiously, lovingly maintain gun Wikis) is this:

There are at least 13 of them in this picture, so either that's nigh $40k sharing a table with rusted hunting guns and toys or ALSO TOYS!

(I still prefer LEGO)

10 minutes of searching on my phone was enough to prove this shit isn't real. And I am very very sleepy today. Writing this post took longer than tracking down that rifle by its features. I know this might not be as obvious to people who haven't handled real guns but for anyone remotely familiar with them, this looks like a joke.

This makes American cops posing around a ziploc bag of weed look good by comparison. That weed might be real.

This is extremely lazy misinformation work. It's a pathetically low effort ruse from an army that could easily have just planted real weapons. The only reason someone would post this for the world to see and claim it's real is if they're very, very stupid, think we are, or are well beyond trying because they know they hold a position of such untouchable privilege that they're cool doing the bare minimum of covering their asses. Like the cops!

All of those options make me real sad. So I'm going to just post this and never check on the comments.

[brucewaynehater101]

Cooked up an AU based on the Power Rangers & Digimon asks

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Power Rangers Digital Division

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Introducing Timothy "Tim" Drake, Batclan fan extraordinaire

Seriously, you should check out all those hero photos he's caught

And you wanna know what's better than being way too young to stay up all night for one special interest? Two special interests!

Particularly these weird .mon files he keeps finding on his journey to hacking mastery. He can't decipher them quite yet, but they look so interesting and there's so many designs

It's only when screen-of-death blue and ones and zeros climb from his keyboard to his arms and the rest of his body does he realize that biting off more than you can chew is very, very real

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Introducing Subject "Thorn" 13, escaped clone extraordinaire

Hard to not be the very best escapee when you're the only escapee. Same with being a thorn to child protective services

Good thing he got out of Metropolis soon as he could, Mr. Lex had nothing good to say about Superman back in the lab, and given the horror he was also experiencing second hand about mere cops? he trusts those tales

There's a reason he keeps kryptonite on his person, hearing and smelling and hearing so many horrible things is too much

Eat the rich, but they're good for some things

He paused his thoughts to look at his one and only companion. well, not really, but he can barely take care of himself, so a digital alternative is much preferable

Thorn was proud to say he stole it from the labs themselves. People called it an off-brand tamagotchi, but he'd say it was even better

Yuramon. It was even more plantlike than him. Demanding he be near quality soil and bath it's screen in sunlight in the real world

Sunlight on his skin, nobody questioning his presence, and no acts of cruelty nearby, he's never felt safer . . .

Ding!

[Yuramon is ready to digivolve and it wants you to see it up close and personally!]

[Will you plug in to an internet connected device?]

[Yes] / [No]

Say no to that? Hell no! He had a phone right on his person

He quickly ran to a vacant alleyway. He wanted to keep this special moment all to himself!

Connecting to the local library's wifi, he was careful to not break anything as his devices connected

Yuramon was right there on his phone screen, ready to Digivolve! Grow!

It's when his screen began to glow brighter than the highest setting and his hands were irremovable from the screen he realized something was up

Yeah when it felt like he was being sucked into the glow he had an idea where this was going

He was going to become a missing person, they'd figure out a child who stole Luthor tech vanished because of it, and Superman would get on his case

Oh come on! He stole his phone from a cop! Why is he suddenly getting the "hero learns a moral" treatment?

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Bart, frankly enough, didn't trust this world. past present or future

There was a reason the Earth was cooked if his memories and this time period's social study books were any indication

Not even the digital world faced world ending threats as often. granted, it kind of already ended itself . . .

But with him and Terriermon by each other's side, they'll find a way back; They're in this together!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Pursurimon! Pursurimon! Pursurimon!!!1 Cassie blasts onto the keyboard

Could you blame her? Her mother just uncovered a wicked (recent!) artifact and she already got permission to blab

She attached a picture of the rusted item to her message

[Pursurimon] Woah!

[Pursurimon] My friend found one as well

[Wondrland] huh??///

No fucking way

[Pursurimon] Can I show you through the screen?

Accept Pursurimon's Request?

Yes / No

a video chat she had to assume. They've known each other long enough that she's comfortable with it

Going off topic, this forum needed to get itself together. the team might be small, sure, but not everyone could put cryptic pop-up messages and clues together

It's only after clicking yes and getting dragged through the screen with claws, that Cassie thinks there was probably more to internet safety than she thought

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

This AU is takes ideas from both Digimon animes, and various Power Ranger series

Short explanation. Tim accidentally digivolved a .mon while messing with a DigiMorpher through the screen. using the digivolution energy, the .mon dragged him into the digital world cuz it was curious

Cassie's mom found a DigiMorpher and Pusurimon thought "it's fate!" and asked a friend to drag her in while it was busy draggin in Tim. Cassie & Pusuri met through the forum

Cassie coming in with her own DigiMorpher digivolved Pusurimon to Herissmon

Luthor was poking around the digital world and decided to try and raise a loyal digimon from birth. The baby wasn't even meant to hatch yet, he intended to have it be a designer baby

Thorn stole a very vulnerable prototype. When it's time to Digivolve at last, Yuramon used the vulnerabilities to meet it's partner face to face at last w/ the help of a DigiMorpher

Bart and Terriermon already had their own & figured out how to turn it on at long last (for whatever reason it would not turn on), this allowed them to reenter the digital world

This is also the eighth's first meeting altogether

In a nutshell; Tim and Commandramon, Cassie and Herissmon, Thorn and Petimeramon, Bart and Terriermon

confused? Me too. I'm jumping from section to section typing this up as we go along

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

I didn't make a backstory of lore lol

Basically, the four are the DigiDestined chosen to wield DigiMorphers, special Digivices that not only Digivolve their partners but also allow the wielders to DigiMorph into the Power Rangers of the Digital Division; Digivision for short

They are a special group of Power Rangers meant to protect the Digital and Real World from threats connected to the Digital World or will have a negative effect on it

These DigiMorphers come with the ability to transport their holder and whatever/whomever they choose between the two worlds

Furthermore, as their partners, the four Digimon get this for free, no DigiMorpher required

Oh frick, the actual Power Rangers part

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Tim Drake - Virus Ranger, suit's main color is blue camouflage just like his partner's

Thorn - Data Ranger, suit mixes yellow & orange w/ accents of red

Bart Allen - Vaccine Ranger, cream with a secondary green

Cassie Sandsmark - Free Ranger, silver with golden accents

When transformed, their partners will gain pieces of armor matching or similar to the ranger's suits. in Commandramon's case, a full wardrobe change

I was agonizing over what classic colors to give the four, until I realized it was completely unneeded, canon is our bitch

DigiMorpher suits are designed to integrate traits and colors of the ranger's partner

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Team dynamics!

// Bart is from a dystopic future and was placed in a virtual reality to experience growing up in a body matching his mental age. Except he got booted into a post-apocalyptic Digital World. Oh, and he could use the speed force without restriction here

There he met Terriermon and they've been partners ever since, they also found an inactive DigiMorpher. It's a mystery they've spent forever trying to solve

By the time his mind caught up with his body, the two got booted again to what the rest call present time. Likely due to the two experimenting with the speed force or using it for something else for whatever reason, maybe it was even intentional

Due to growing up and only remembering the digital world, learning about Earth through lingering data, Bart is the de facto leader for any operations dealing with Digimon or the Digital World

However, the Digital World he and Terriermon knew was post-apocalyptic, and they know next to nothing about their Earth, much less it's history-now-present

They have their work cut out for them relearning and learning so much. Feeling out of place in their home will probably also be an angst point even if the digital world truly is better this way than it was in the future

// Tim Drake, by virtue of extensive parental neglect and a load of natural curiosity, knows the most about superism and the Real World, missions taking place there or regarding it falls onto him to work with

// So Bart and Tim are co-leaders of sort

// Cassie—by virtue of her divine lineage—is best suited for conversing with Digimon of divine/irl cultural origin. Direct relation to the Zues puts a foot in the door. She's close with her mother and has learned plenty of several cultures so the knowledge will help as well

((see the wikimon's page for list of mythological refs in digimon))

All there is to worry about is how much she knows in the first place and the cultural differences of the cultures of an entire digital world!

// Thorn—seconded by Bart—has the most learning to do

Whereas Bart has to relearn a familiar but unfamiliar world and a brand new one, Thorn has to learn two new worlds at once

Thorn is a clone fed so many lies by Luthor and he's only just figured out that some of his world is built on lies

He and Petimeramon have a long way to go, but him telling the crew his backstory may just give them a head start to listing down their future rogues gallery 

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

if Jason still dies and Batman spirals just like in canon, instead of Tim cleaning up after him—

Well Tim is still gonna make sure the victims are recovered from his rampage, but he's not going to become Robin. he has his own team

Instead he and Dobermon (less obvious artillery and thus less likely to make Batman think bad of them) are going to force Batman to listen to them and maybe request their teammates or other digimon they can recruit for backup

This is an intervention. Batman will either put up the cape and only come back if he attends therapy and genuinely recovers enough from his grief to be a sufficient hero again

Should Batman continue brutalizing Gothamites however, they will chase him down and have him imprisoned legally for as long as the law allows

"Do you want to keep being a hero Batman? It's yes or no."

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Attributes!

Ever since entering the Digital World (with Bart being an exception, we'll get to him when we get there) the four gained Attributes which they share with their partners. Thank the DigiMorphers for that

// Tim has the Virus attribute, as he has been hacking and distorting data for a good while

Plus Commandramon can camouflage in real time, something Tim had to learn to get Batphotos

// Cassie has the Free attribute, since she's descended from Zues who existed before technology, much less attributes, ever existed

Herissmon stores treasures in its fur only shared with close friends, a nod to Helena's archeology career

// Thorn ignores his Kryptonian heritage, wants nothing to do with supers, and tries to pass for human for his own personal peace, hence the Data attribute

His partner starting off as a petimeramon in the Baby II stage instead of Child stage like everyone else's is also a metaphor for how much learning they have to do

// Bart has a Vaccine Attribute due to having future knowledge and can thus act against threats that otherwise would have succeeded ahead of time

Oh, and a big reason for the apocalypse the Digital World went through was the X Program, which Bart and Terriermon only knew the aftermath of

Terriermon was born into the Digital World with a dormant X-Antibody of its own while Bart got that and his Vaccine attribute after the two agreed to be partners

The X Program has been dormant itself too, but better safe than sorry, the surviving digimon of the apocalypse say

I haven't come up w/ exact details but when in the Digital World, or in Ranger form, their attributes become more prominent in some way, shape, or form. Doubly so doing both at once

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

They are the second generation of the Digivision, and even if information on their predecessors exist, it leaves a lot to be desired

So instead they must turn to the morphers themselves; Tim takes it upon himself to try and crack—maybe even jailbreak—them

It's up to the writer how much information they can yield from the morphers, plus the intricacies of the task (for example, say Tim need the morpher's wielder presence or even aid to avoid meeting an even greater firewall), but it's going to a tough and long ride 

Maybe there's episodes where Tim or others fuck up when he's hacking places in the Digital World or the DigiMorphers or even the mechas and hijinks ensue as they cope with and try to fix their mistakes

I don't even know how they figure out the whole DigiDestined and Power Rangers deal 💀💀💀 we can worry about that later lol

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"Power Rangers, Digitize!" that's the transformation phrase

Maybe because the morphers were found rusted, in a destroyed Digital World, and otherwise left to rot for a good while

That could be a plotpoint, all the DigiMorphers are damaged in their own unique ways, repairing them requires different solutions but unlocks stronger features over time

Initially they can only transform or Digivolve, neither at once

but as their Morphers get repaired they unlock transforming and digivolving, weapons, biomerging, and the obligatory mechas

Except I want it to be a blend of biomerging and my memories of typical power ranger mechas

And I think I have a compromise. When it's time to bring the mecha out, the respective Ranger and Digimon have to be biomerged, turn into pure Data, and then they can go into the mech as data, and pilot it from there

So they effectively become the mech in a sense

When making the obligatory megamecha, it's basically eight people synchronized into one until it's time to unmerge

Said mechas are scattered across the Digital and Real world, so the team has to learn/know they exist, find them, and first time using them manually transfer them across worlds if they want to.

Later on as Morphers get repaired they can summon their mechas across worlds and to their coordinates with a command, but early into using them, this time sensitivity is going to be something they have to manage

Idk what they'd even be called I just know they exist in this au

I got nothing else lmao 💀💀💀💀

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

So the DigiDestined are like, really young here, like somewhere around ten to thirteen, which begs the question

Do they look like adults in Ranger form or are obviously kids?

The former gives secret identity security + identity shenanigans + dramatic irony, while the latter can be used for Outsider POV angst and humor as kids whoop their elders asses

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Also as the Power Rangers Digital Division make a name for themselves, I think they'd try to make connections in the Digital World and maybe the real one too to gain manpower and ease the weight off their shoulders

Since they have to focus on the duties they got dubiously selected for, any other time spent outside of obligatory Ranger and DigiDestined stuff would be spent doing volunteer work and other lowscale street level stuff, like so low scale it's barely even crime fighting

I'm taking saving cats from trees lowscale

If anyone argues against them being so low-level in the super scene, even by streetlevel standards, people immedietely point to the rare times a gigantic monster popped up which only the eight were equipped to fight against via their own megamecha

and the statements where they said they're very focussed on fighting threats before they reach the kaiju vs megamecha point of fighting

its even worse if they are very clearly children

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Tim does not tinker with a digimon data on the principle that he is not playing god in a way that can go dramatically wrong but he does learn how to observe the data. Data he can record

Later on, he learns when transformed &/or in the digital world, he can view their own DNA as if it were data and some of that data in Terriermon's and Bart's is the X-Antibody they've talked about

If he can activate it, he can unlock more digivolutions and security and a major leg-up against their foes in general

Maybe he can even give it to his whole team and other allies giving them an edge in battle

And they don't need to worry about the X Program at all if they play their cards right, right?

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Wait how does this affect Young Justice/Teen Titans and canonical relationships---?

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Extra notes

Petimeramon digivolves into a candmon the first time in hopes of giving back the sunlight Thorn gave them; alas, they became a Data Attribute who couldn't

But maybe later down the line, they can become a Coronamon and give Thorn that sunlight they want to give back

Came up with Thorn's name when figuring out a believable shortening of "Thir" in "thirteen"

Heck ya boy isn't gonna like that they share a villain with Superman from the very start, that guy said Superman would have him killed!

But Cassie and Tim can teach the facts of Luthor's villainy, just how deep it goes, and the truth to contradict the lies he lived trusting

Heck if digimon based on irl mythology and the real deals interact, wtf is gonna happen? Cassie my girl, will you be okay?

Remember the post about Tim not seeing himself as obligated to follow Batman's morality? Dobermon, who Commandra can digivolve to, has the power to steal abilities and destroy Digicores, which sound up his alley when push comes to shove

idk if other power ranger groups exist here or not but the crossovers between would be fun

I mean, the words Digital Division implies other groups so that can go into the team's research as well

Heck maybe some Power Rangers are retired and or still active and there's a sideplot where after learning of the Digital Division, they try to track them down to give their own guidance and support

The wikimon is your savior if you dunno anything about digimon like me

Main thing that made me drop the idea of doing ranger colors is the fact that Bart or Tim are both team leader at least at the start

I was like "how do I make them both red & thus leader?" then I remember that fanfiction is all about heresy against canon lol

This is basically Digimon with Power Rangers tacked on, maybe the Digital Division was formed when previous rangers met digimon due to threats to the two joined together and stuck for a good long time? idk my brain is cooked

I think seeing Barbara duke it out against Digimon or the Power Rangers and even manage to get herself her own Digivice, maybe even a DigiMorpher, perhaps even a DIY version, would be fun

Barbara getting her own Digimon and being an outside context problem the Power Rangers don't even anticipate would be fun af to explore, even more her diy-ing a digivice or even morpher

While the digimon start off in one evolution branch with the same attribute as their partners, later on they will experiment with their entire trees

Speaking of evolution tree's, all I got for go-to adult stage evolutions at the start are Dobermon for Commandramon and Galgomon to Rapidmon for Terriermon

Feel free but not pressured to add onto this as you wish!

I know absolutely nothing about Digimon and only a slight bit more about Power Rangers. However, this was fascinating to read.

Some aspects I loved about this AU:

Kon's name being Thorn. Since he never meets Superman, that makes so much sense! Fics where Kon has a different name would be cool to see/explore (especially if he was glancing at alternative versions of himself).

The digital world with YJ was a very interesting concept to think about. Idk much about Digimon, but there's a ton of cool ideas to explore just with the notion that YJ has to protect an alternate dimension (dimension meaning one connected to their world but not easily accessible by the populace [like hell, virtual internet, some shit Raven sees, etc.])

Barbara would become God if she got her hands on this world, and I am here for that. That woman deserves to be worshiped and praised

The attributes are hella cool and definitely fit the characters well

Threatening Batman with jail time :D

YJ meeting sooner than canon. It's just such a cute concept

The nod to Spider-Man with the smaller level crimes

There's more, but those stuck out.

I really loved your little comments throughout and "canon is our bitch" specifically made me laugh.

I am curious about the other yj members. Would they have this AU's powers temporarily while they are part of the team?

[tcwmatchmakingau]

Take a Chance (Part 2)

Pairing: Crosshair x reader

Rating: General (but MDNI)

Summary: Crosshair can’t scarcely believe that he’s been matched so quickly. The date he goes on is like nothing he’s experienced before.

Warnings: more Crosshair angst; fluff; more of my matchmaker OC Tal (and a blink-and-you-miss-it of my clone OC Creed); Crosshair has a lot of feelings but doesn’t know how to show them

WC: 5.2k

Read Part 1 here!

Crosshair spent the entire rest of the day in agony. Tal had promised to message as soon as possible, but Crosshair needed information three hours ago. Curse Wrecker for shoving his nose into Crosshair’s business. Curse Wrecker for wearing down his walls, lowering his defenses, putting him into this karking situation. It was nearly enough to dredge up the old itch under his skin for a quick smoke, something to take the edge off. 

No. That wasn’t a promise he’d break anytime soon. 99’s wrinkled face flashed in his mind, and he sighed, slouching farther into his desk chair. 

He’d sit at this damned desk all night if he had to. 

Instead of the intel-gathering he should have done in the first place, all he could do now was sit and wait and hope that his target would stumble blindly into his scopes. It wouldn’t be the first time—but it certainly wasn’t his preferred way of completing a mission. 

He tried, genuinely tried, to not think of this whole endeavor as a mission. The date looming in his near future could very well change the entire trajectory of his life in a way that none of the routine reconnaissance and black ops missions Clone Force 99 took on did. But he couldn’t help it. He was grasping at straws, snagging on anything that gave him a semblance of normalcy.

The dim Coruscanti sun had just begun to set, speared by the innumerable skyscrapers that blocked his view, when the comlink chimed. Forcing himself to breathe evenly, he glanced down at the newest message. 

Crosshair— come to my office when you can. Nothing’s wrong. Just want this conversation to happen in person.

His brain shut off after the first sentence. Something had gone wrong. His prospective match—matches—somehow found out who he was and bailed, withdrew their applications with RTL. Worse, the matchmaking service had decided that he was unfit material for their clientele and would be barring him from utilizing the company in the future.

A swell of anger crested through him, burning away the anxiety he’d been wallowing in all day. They really had no idea who they were dealing with, did they? Well, he would just have to go down there and give Tal a piece of his mind. 

Halfway out the door, he fired off a text to the group chat—going out—before putting the comlink on silent and shoving it into his jeans’ pocket. The walk to the shiny, chromium-plated building passed in a blink; before he realized it, Crosshair stood peering up at the clean white sign, a scowl marring his features. 

The receptionist was different from the one he met yesterday, but the man behind the desk seemed to know exactly why he was here as Crosshair stalked to the check-in station. Pressing a button on the intercom, the man spoke in a low tone, holding up one finger for Crosshair to wait. 

“Yes, of course,” the man said. “I’ll let him know.”

Setting the phone back in its cradle, the man gave him a cursory smile. “Tal will be right out.”

Crosshair grunted in acknowledgement, but refused to sit. He lingered in an aisle between chairs, arms crossed over his chest, pointedly staring at the door that led to the back offices. In the corner behind him, two regs conversed quietly. He felt their gazes bore into him. Normally, it pissed him off; right now, all he wanted was an explanation.

The moment the door cracked open, Crosshair yanked the handle. A young woman, eyes wide as plates and hand flying to her heart, shrieked in surprise. 

“Oh—uh, s-sorry,” he muttered out, anger in his chest immediately dousing with embarrassment. “Thought you were—”

“Th-That’s alright,” she said, affixing a smile to her face. Blinking, she peered past him. “Creed?”

One of the two regs stood and straightened his denim jacket before disappearing to the back with the case worker. Before the door fully shut, though, it swung open once more, admitting the familiar figure of Tal.

“Someone’s impatient,” Tal noted with a raised eyebrow. 

With a hard look, Cross merely swaggered past his case worker, taking the monotonous hallways back until he recognized the exact wood grain pattern on the correct door. Tal touched their keycard to it and the door unlocked with a click. 

“Speak,” Crosshair spat as soon as the door shut behind Tal. 

Tal’s jaw worked for a moment, their eyes narrowed as they appraised him. “Wanna try that one again?”

Crosshair deflated, sinking into the silken futon. He gestured helplessly for Tal to break the news, whatever it may be. It was as close to an apology as he felt capable of mustering right now.

“I just thought you ought to know that the match chosen for you,” Tal began, perching in their seat, hands laced in their lap, “doesn’t exactly live nearby.”

Crosshair scarcely dared to breathe. Eyes locked onto a faint stain in the area rug, he swallowed down the riot of emotions coursing through his body and focused on the words. 

He still had a match. 

Exhaling, he dared to glance up. Tal met his gaze with a calm expression of patience. 

“I can see how my message may have worried you,” Tal said. “But I wanted to talk in person. These are very special circumstances, and I want you to know all the options.” 

Still giving him a choice, still giving him control, even after he made an ass of himself. Mollified, Crosshair nodded slowly. 

“Which are what, exactly?”

“Either we bring her here, or send you to her,” they said. “We recently opened up the applications to other planetary systems, intending to establish other branches wherever clones settled down. It just happens that her application matches yours, not any of the men on her own planet.”

He couldn’t quash the childish sense of pride that filled him with. “‘Special circumstances,’ eh?”

Tal nodded and said, “Leadership is willing to cover the cost of transportation for the first meeting at least. I am still negotiating for future meetings should this first one be successful.”

“You’re…fighting for me,” Crosshair said. The disbelief rang harsh, even in his own ears.

“That is my job,” Tal said with a wry smile. “Believe it or not, Crosshair, there are people who want the best for you and your brothers. For all the clones.” 

Leaning back against the futon, he rubbed his hands over his face, pressing his fingers against his eyes until starbursts exploded across his vision. 

“It’s a lot to take in,” Tal said. “But what I can tell you is that she is very excited to meet you.”

“You showed her my profile?” he asks, lips baring in a half-snarl. 

“Maker, no,” Tal said with a gentle laugh. “The moment you let me choose was the moment this became a double-blind process. Once you agree to the meeting, you’ll receive just her holoscan and name, and she will get yours.” 

Crosshair turned that information over in his mind. Never no mind the fact that he hadn’t been the one to give up the choice, it wasn’t lost on him that Tal used the word ‘meeting’ rather than ‘date’—removing a lot of the pressure and anxiety that he still felt over this whole situation. And really, what did he have to lose? His brothers would support him whatever his decision, like they always had, once they processed their own emotions. Sure, he’d probably let this mystery woman down, and Tal, too, but his match didn’t even live on Coruscant. He’d likely never meet her if he didn’t do this. And Tal, well… Crosshair was no stranger to shutting others out. 

In reality, the only person who would be hurt if he chose not to do this was himself. 

Maybe he owed it to himself to try. 

“Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll go to her. See the sights.” 

Which is how he found himself, a standard week later, standing in the midst of one of the less busy ports on Coruscant. The shuttle taking him to the nearby system, Stassia, was due to arrive at the terminal in just a few minutes, and Crosshair couldn’t keep his eyes off of the chrono. Would his date—he struggled over the word, even in his own mind—understand if he was late because of traffic delays?

Looking at the chrono meant that he also ended up rereading the series of messages from his brothers. 

Remember, vod, just be yourself.

That is terrible advice, Hunter. Crosshair, be the opposite of how you usually are. -Tech

Don’t listen to Tech. You’re gonna be fine. She’s gonna love you no matter what! Or they wouldn’ta matched ya together.

Grinding his teeth, Crosshair shoved his comlink back in his pocket and tried to ignore the conflicting advice. As starships and people flowed around him like water, he remained unmoving, rooted to the spot. There were very few times in his relatively short life where he could recall feeling like this, and he despised every one of those memories.

He was a wreck. 

Outwardly, he’d never show it. He knew he continued to exude the calm, collected, debonair facade that had practically become his trademark, even as his insides melted to jelly and solidified to permacrete simultaneously. He was being ripped apart from the inside by nerves.

He’d printed out the holoscan that Tal provided him, the only bit of you that he knew so far besides your name. The flimsi crumpled in his grip before he remembered to relax. Even in a holoscan, slightly pixelated and distorted, he knew you were beautiful. A bright smile and shining personality, he realized, staring down at the flimsi clutched in his grasp, he couldn’t wait to meet. 

The shuttle arrived on time, departed the port on time, and made the jump to hyperspace on time. It did little to ease the heavy stone of nerves settled into Crosshair’s stomach. By the time the ship lurched out of the hyperspace lane, he’d bitten his nails down to the beds, one of them bleeding.

During the war, he’d seen his fair share of planets—always in quick bursts, flashes of cultures and climates that sometimes left his mind whirling. In their own ways, every system was unique and beautiful, and this one was no different. The Stassia system was on the smaller side, a surprise given its location in the core, but what little snooping he’d done on the HoloNet revealed a comfortable, temperate planet dominated by agriculture and cattle. As he gazed through the transparisteel viewport down at the vast green landmasses and deep azure oceans of your homeworld, the nerves that had been plaguing him for the past week settled. 

He was here. He could do this. He would do this. 

He still had no idea what activity he’d be expected to partake in. Hunter’s first date with his partner had been a simple dinner; Tech took his to the Coruscant Library; and Wrecker met his to watch a speeder race. But that had all happened on Coruscant, a city-planet; this, he mused, disembarking the shuttle, this planet was much quieter. 

Breathing deep, he enjoyed the scent of hot earth, grass, and animals that filled his lungs. The sun, hanging low in the sky, scattered color across the sky in a vast canvas, oranges bleeding into purples, as fireflies gently warbled lime green across the field ahead of him. “Quiet” was certainly the word for it; this quaint little space port boasted a singular platform and loading dock, nestled at the edge of a small town. 

A few other passengers had gotten off at this stop as well, all of them nat-born. Crosshair watched in silence as they all rushed off the platform, joining their loved ones who waited along the dirt path that led into town. Skimming the small throng, any hopes that had buoyed up upon landing suddenly burst. He didn’t see your face among the crowd.

Biting down on his toothpick, he stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and trudged along the dusty footpath toward the town. The closer he got, the more this world came to life around him. The sweet smell of freshly baked bread wafted on the warm evening breeze from open windows, mixing with the joyous sounds of children giggling in whatever game they played. The buildings here were short and square, made of wood instead of metal, but looked comfortable. A string of warm yellow lights flickered to life overhead as he passed through the town center, a latticework of wires, bulbs, and gently chiming trinkets. He watched as lovers linked arms to stroll down the street and parents scolded their spawn for darting too far ahead. 

And then he saw you.

Standing at the end of the main square, clutching at the strap of your crossbody bag, your face quite literally glowed in the incandescent illumination above. Head tilted back, a soft smile playing over your features, Crosshair had never seen someone so…at peace.

He didn’t realize he was staring until you seemed to notice him, frozen in place, eyes locked onto your face.

He watched the recognition spread over your features instantly, your eyes widening and smile broadening into a beaming grin. 

“Crosshair?” you asked, striding toward him. 

He gave a single, curt nod. “That’s me.” 

Holding out your hand, he glanced down at it before shaking it. Your skin was warm against his, smooth and pleasant. You gave him your name, even though he already knew it, already had it committed to memory, and then resumed fidgeting with the strap of your bag. 

“So,” you said, “how do you feel about going to the carnival?” 

“Never been to one.” 

“That’s not what I asked,” you said, squinting up at him, a defiant light sparking there in the yellow lights. 

Arching one thin eyebrow, Crosshair couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I don’t suppose it was.” He let the word fade, let you sit for a moment to ponder whether he would actually answer your question, before continuing, “Carnival works fine. Lead on.”

“We’ll have to take a speeder bike,” you said. Walking backwards to keep your eyes on him, he marveled at the sudden impulse to turn you around if only to avoid you hurting yourself. “It’s not far. And it’s so worth it. The fried dough is to die for.”

To die for. Every time a nat-born let that phrase slip out around him or his brothers, they always followed it up with some asinine question like, “Oh Maker, was that insensitive?” He hated it every time. And now, he tensed, expecting the faux-pity, the sympathy he never wanted. But it didn’t come. You’d since pivoted on your heel to lead him through the gathering dark without a second thought to your words.

He lengthened his stride to match your pace. “You’ve been to it before?”

“Every year since I was a youngling,” you said. “Family tradition. But my parents are gone now, so, it’s just me.”

Another reflexive tensing of his shoulders, jaw clenching around the toothpick. Parents, or any mention of families, also set nat-borns on edge around clones. But again, you didn’t offer any apologies or even showed any sign that you were privy to the way Crosshair reacted.

He simply grunted in response, not sure what to say now that his usual scathing remarks were unnecessary. You seemed content with his response. The pair of you passed through the rest of the town and came upon a secondary, smaller platform with a half dozen speeders parked on it. Moving to the farthest one down the row, you shot him a look as if to say, Coming? 

“This yours?” he drawled, eyes narrowed as he focused on the way that your hands moved with practiced ease over the bike’s controls. 

The engine revved to life. Swinging your leg over the main seat, you nodded. “Used to be my dad’s. C’mon, hop on.” 

Somehow, it hadn’t occurred yet to Crosshair that taking a speeder bike to this carnival would entail some kind of physical contact. He’d just assumed that there would be multiple, that maybe they would race, but not this scenario.

He hesitated only for a split second, processing his options in record time, before hitching his leg over the back of the bike and perching onto the narrow passenger seat. Now faced with another decision, his hands froze in the air as he debated where to hold on.

You saved him the trouble by reaching back and, blindly groping, snagged one of his wrists to draw around your middle. Surprise thrummed through Crosshair, the feeling of your skin once again sending a thrill of excitement down his spine. He leaned against your back, settling his chin in the crook of your shoulder as his arms locked around your body.

Pressed against you like this, he felt the way your body shook with silent laughter.

“Was that a test?” he asked flatly. 

Your laughter rang out as you guided the speeder off the platform and into the tall grass. “No. Maybe. Alright, yeah, it was. I can tell a lot about a person by how they react to sitting behind me.”

Cross hummed. “What can you tell about me?”

“Secure,” you said, and then all conversation ceased as you pushed the speeder to its limits.

The roar of the engine mingled with the rush of wind in his ears. Tall plains grass whipped past; he was grateful he’d chosen denim pants and a thicker leather jacket, the garments offering protection against the sting of the grass. When you leaned forward, urging the bike faster, he had no choice but to lean with you, his chest pressed to your back, warmth blooming somewhere behind his sternum. Even at this speed, whatever perfume you’d put on filled his nose, gentle and peaceful and muted. 

In the rapidly gathering dark, it wasn’t long before he picked out the telltale sign of the carnival. Multicolored lights, strobing and flashing, twinkled like so many beacons in the midst of the sea of grass. You guided the speeder down to a reasonable speed, and Crosshair caught his first real glimpse of the carnival. 

Red and white striped tents dotted the landscape, sprawled like childrens’ toys, clustered around large mechanical rides. He didn’t have names for most of the rides, but already knew that his favorite would be the one just ahead, with four main arms that branched down into double-seater pods. Carnival-goers already sat strapped into the ride seats as the machinery whirred to life. Engrossed, Crosshair watched as the main arms began to orbit the center spoke, and, to his surprise, the groupings of seats rotated around one another.

“That’s the Scrambler,” you explained, following his line of sight. “We can do that one first. It makes me real dizzy.” 

He said nothing as you eased the bike to a stop a short distance away from the main entrance. A large, lighted arch proclaimed Welcome in stylized Basic; a short queue shuffled underneath as visitors bought tickets and darted off once inside. 

He followed you, content to let you lead, as he soaked in every new sight. Children tugged on parents’ hands toward much tamer rides, spinning teacups and dancing bears; gaggles of teens giggled past as they shoved cotton candy into their mouths; other couples, young and starry eyed, traipsed toward the tallest ride, a massive metal circle. But what really caught his attention were the draped stalls. He spied a number of games, all based on aim, all promising prizes of a soft, squishy variety. A small thrill of anticipation hummed through him. How many of those could he win for you?

“Crosshair?” you asked. 

Yanking his attention back, he blinked down at you. “Hm?”

“Should I get enough tickets to do everything once?” 

He nodded and fished in his back pocket for the stack of credits that Hunter had shoved into his hands before he left. But you shook your head with a small smile, saying, “You get food, I’ve got tickets.”

Hesitating only a moment, he nodded once, acquiescing. In no time at all, you exchanged brief pleasantries with the gate attendant, purchased a bundle of tickets, and turned to him with a wide smile, happiness shining in your eyes. 

“Shall we?” 

He twitched his eyebrows up in an approximation of a ‘yes.’ 

You took a step forward, then turned back, a suddenly shy look on your face. “May I?” You reached as if to grab his hand.

He studied your face for the space of a heartbeat, drawing in as much visual information as he could, in only the way that he knew how, a product of his engineering. Now that he was over the initial shock of seeing you in person, his enhanced eyesight cataloged every feature of your expression that you probably weren’t even aware of. The single eyebrow hair that you’d missed while plucking, the way that your left canine was just a smidge crooked where it gleamed between your parted lips, the accrual of living a life outdoors ingrained into your skin. 

Crosshair was, by nature, a visual person. He placed a lot of emphasis on both his appearance and how others presented themselves to him. He’d long since forgiven himself for honing in on the defects, the blemishes, the scars and marks and imperfections. 

Looking at you now, he found that the imperfections were what made you perfect.

In silent approval, he held his hand out for you to take. Skin sliding against skin, his tongue toyed with the damp toothpick as he marveled once again at your softness. You led him directly to the Scrambler, true to your word; handing over the required number of tickets to the attendant, you shot him an expectant look as the two of you joined the short queue.

“So,” you said, leaning against the battered metal railing, “Right to Love, huh?”

Whatever warmth had taken root in his chest wilted a little. Arching one eyebrow down at you, he scoffed. “So, clones, huh?”

“I’ll tell you why if you tell me first,” you offered.

The line moved up as the ride came to a clattering halt. He used the movement as a momentary distraction, enticed and yet unsettled by your forwardness. But to his dismay, the attendant shut the gate before the two of you could go through, putting you at the front of the line. 

As the ride chugged to life once again, Crosshair allowed himself to sigh. “My brothers wouldn’t let up until I set up an appointment.” 

The gaze you fixed him with said you wanted to call his bantha fodder, but you just nodded slowly, digesting that.

“Your turn,” he said. 

You huffed a laugh. “I have high standards.” 

Crosshair felt his eyebrows creep up. “Standards.”

“Yup.” You fiddled with the fraying strap of your bag. “Always wanted more than the farm could give me. Not that there’s anything wrong with the farms here, they’re just…the same they were when I was a kid. And they’ll be the same when I’m old and dying.”

“The stability means nothing to you?” Crosshair asked. Though he supposed he understood your viewpoint: he chafed under routine, living the same days on nearly endless repeat.

Shrugging, you exhaled slowly, turning your face skyward. “I dunno, I just… I look up at the stars and know there’s entire worlds out there.” 

He followed your gaze. He’d seen his fair share of those worlds; he wanted to see them again someday, under better circumstances. 

“Anyways.” You laughed, sounding hollow and forced. “Um. I hope you like this ride.”

“I will,” he said. 

And he did. Though it reminded him of some of the cadet training he went through with his batch, the centripetal force pinning him to the seat also smushed you alongside him, your bodies touching nearly their entire lengths. Your breathless laughs and thrilled squeals as the ride whipped around, faster and faster, set his heart ablaze. Dimly, he was confused—was this supposed to be so easy?—but the low chuckle that escaped him felt right. You felt right. 

He owed Tal an apology, and a thank you.

The pair of you stumbled out of the ride, hair windswept and messy. His lips twitched into a grin as he watched you sway, his own vision tilting on its axis for a moment before righting itself.

“Where to now, trooper?” you asked, giggling.

“You pick.” 

Hours later, when you’d ridden every ride and after he bought you both some overpriced, overly greasy fair food that you insisted he try (and that he silently admitted was amazing), he finally dragged you over to one of the game booths, intent on earning a souvenir, at least for you, if not for himself, too. 

You groaned as he tugged you by the hand. “Crosshair, these things are always rigged—” 

“That’s because you don’t have a marksman’s eye,” he drawled. 

Stepping up to one that seemed like it should be simple—a wall of balloons and a pile of darts—he wordlessly passed the worker the trivial number of tickets and accepted the three darts he was allotted. He turned the darts over in his hand, feeling their balance, calculating angles and trajectories and even wind speeds on autopilot. He could do this part in his sleep. No, he was incredibly aware of the way that you openly stared at him, a smile toying with your lips, as you waited for him to prove you wrong.

“Watch and learn, doll,” he murmured, and then he threw all three darts at the same time.

Pop-pop-pop!

Three balloons exploded into tatters as the darts landed in a neat line. Pride reared its head in his chest as your mouth fell open, an admiring gleam glazing your eyes.

“You were saying?” he said, smug. 

Laughing in disbelief, he couldn’t help but preen as you shook your head. “Wow. Um. That was impressive.”

“Let’s make a bet.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized what he was saying.

Cocking your head, you grinned. “What kind of bet?” 

“I bet I can win every game here.” He held up a finger at the impatient attendant who tried to interrupt.

He watched as you weighed the options for a moment; he could nearly see the gears turning in your mind, the way your brow scrunched as you thought. Then you nodded. 

“What are we wagering?” you said. 

“If I win, I pick our next date,” he said simply. He enjoyed the way your smile turned shy, face tilting down for a moment. “If I lose, you pick again.”

“That’s awfully presumptuous of you,” you said. But when you reached out and gently ran your fingers across the back of his hand, he knew you were just teasing.

“Hey, man, you gonna pick a prize or what?” the huffy attendant asked. 

Rolling his eyes, Cross jerked his head at you. “Pick.” 

“Oh!” Delight sparkled in your eyes as you quickly glanced over the options. “The little green frog, please.” 

He’d lost track of time. This was the most fun he’d had…ever, and he wasn’t even sure how it was possible to feel so connected to a person he’d just met. Let alone a nat-born. He’d only experienced one fit of angst when he thought you weren’t looking, wondering if his snark was grating on you, but every time he quipped, you matched his energy. You held your own. He appreciated it.

But by now, the night was winding down. Fewer people crowded the grounds, and the sounds of screams had declined dramatically. He still had one more game to win—much more at stake, of course, than just the stuffed toy waiting for him. 

“If you win this one,” you said, arms full with an assortment of squishable friends, frogs and Loth-cats and baby banthas and a number of other critters, “you’re picking the prize. I can’t carry any more.”

“Deal.” His eyes skimmed the prizes in this booth. They were the biggest ones yet, massive Loth-cats that probably stood at least half of his height. It would be so out of place in his otherwise sparse bedroom, but it would be his. All he had to do was win.

With only a couple handfuls of tickets left, he doled out the specific amount for this game. The attendant yawned their way through the explanation of the game: toss the rings over the bottlenecks without knocking any down. If he got all five, he got the big prize. As with every other game, he took a moment to feel the balance of the projectiles, assess angles, get a feel for what he had to do. 

Maybe it was just the knowledge that his entire bet rode on this final game, or maybe it was something else, but a nagging doubt wriggled at the back of his brain as he held the rings. 

Shrugging it off, he took one and, aiming, tossed it for the bottle directly in the center. It was a good throw—a perfect one, he knew—but he watched, horror mounting, as the ring caught the lip of the bottle and bounced. 

“What?” he snarled.

Tossing the second ring, he aimed for the same bottle, and again, the ring bounced. Kark. He gritted his teeth and tried again, adjusting his stance. This one was a little better, it at least flipped over the neck of the bottle behind the one he’d aimed for. Holding his pose, he tossed the remaining two rings and got them both on.

You snorted a laugh at his side. “Technically, you won.” 

“No, I didn’t,” he ground out. Throwing tickets at the attendant, he scooped up another five rings. 

Taking his time, he held each individual ring to get a feel for its particular balance. Four of them sat in his hand, identical in every way; but the fifth, that traitorous little piece of plastic and rubber, was unbalanced by the tiniest margin, something he’d obviously missed in his overconfidence the first time. 

He threw that one first, accounting for its unfair design, and it slotted home on exactly the bottle he aimed for. Triumph burned hot and fierce in his chest. The other four rings landed perfectly, as well, testament to his skill as a marksman. And as he clutched the giant, white-and-gray Loth-cat plush to his chest, he caught the way that your gaze softened as you studied him. 

“What?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “Nothing. Do we have enough tickets left for the Ferris Wheel?” 

Only three tickets remained clutched in his palm. The Wheel, he saw, peering over the dwindling crowd, required two tickets per rider. His heart sank in his chest, a peculiar, unfamiliar feeling. 

He saw the exact moment that your disappointment registered, and his heart squeezed. He hated the way that your face fell, eyes downcast, before you reassembled a falsely cheery mask over your expression. 

“That’s alright,” you said, forcing a smile. “We did a lot tonight.”

Crosshair was already searching the ground, eyes darting around in an attempt to locate any stray or discarded tickets. He would fix this. He would make you happy. 

There. 

Balancing his Loth-cat on one hip, he bent to retrieve the trampled, soggy piece of paper. He held it aloft with the barest hint of a grin. “You were saying?” 

Crosshair had never known a softness quite like the one in your eyes as you beamed at him.

[takkarulz]

The Upper Moons order pizza for dinner head cannons!

Muzan

-He just ordered it because his wife and his kid wanted it.

-He orders a bit of everything the restaurant offers since he can pay it. Even the overpriced drinks and desserts.

-As soon as the pizza delivery man arrives he transform him into a demon, just for the fun of it.

-"What happen with the pizza guy daddy?" Ask his daughter confused after seeing the delivery guy trying to eat their neighbors. "Oh, don't worry, he must be just a bit confused, that's all. Anyway, who wants pizza?"

-A few moments after that dinner the Demon Slayer Corps arrive and kill the pizza delivery demon.

Daki and Gyutaro

-They actually did not order any pizza at all, they just stole it from a Daki co worker that already paid for it. Daki pretends to be her and gives a little tip to the delivery guy to apear a nice girl.

-Daki is actually disappointed when she discover that the her coworker had ordered pizza with pineapple on it and cries about it (she hates pineapple pizza).

-Gyutaro calms her down and says that he is gonna eat all the pineapples of her pizza and give her all the ham that his pizza has (he loves pineapple pizza a little too much).

-They fight for the last slice; until Gyutaro decides to just give it to Daki (he does not like to see her angry).

-After a while the woman who actually ordered the pizza try to ask Daki what the hell happen with her pizza. Daki just kills her and eats her.

-If anyone asks for that woman Daki will claim that she ran away with the pizza delivery guy.

Gyokko

-He orders it just because he found a discount coupon on one of his victims pockets and wants to try a new experience.

-He asks for all the ingredients posible to be included on the pizza.

-The pizza delivery guy faints after seeing Gyokko's twisted face getting out of a vase.

-Gyokko, does not care about it; he just eats the delivery guy and uses the pizza for a new artistic project.

Hantengu

-He is shaking and crying of fear while ordering the pizza at the phone.

-He does not know what kind of pizza to order and every suggestion of the menu just confuses him more.

-After one hour he chooses the first option they suggested him (pepperoni pizza).

-He does not want to get out of his house when the delivery guy arrives with the pizza. He is too afraid to get out.

-The pizza delivery guy thinks it was a prank and goes away, leaving Hantegu without pizza.

-Hantegu uses his clones to chase him down and letting him eat the pizza.

-The clones kill the delivery guy and get the pizza for Hantengu but then they all star fighting between themselves for it.

-Hantengu cries in the corner unable to eat his pizza.

Akaza

-He orders something big, full of meat and veggies.

-Also he asks for hot sauce and many complements, like chips and garlic bread.

-He won't eat the delivery person if is a woman. Instead he will tip her the 50% and thank her for her services.

-Even if the pizza delivery guy is male, Akaza will probably not eat him because it will be a boring way to eat someone.

-Since demons don't actually need to eat anything aside of humans, he would give the pizza to a women's shelter or an orphanage.

-However he would probably eat the garlic bread with hot sauce because it is way too tasty.

Doma

-He orders like 20 boxes of pizza, each one of a different flavor.

-When the pizza delivery man arrives, Doma just smiles and compliments them for arriving fast.

-Tries to make them join his sect (but he is rejected).

- Anyway, he eats the pizza delivery man before he gets any chance to go away.

-Doma gives the pizza away to his cult followers claiming that it is a miracle that he made.

-The cult praises him, while Doma laughs inside thinking that now his followers will get more fat and tasty to eat.

-Probably he would just grab a slice of one pizza to see if it is tasty.

-And it is, cuz it is pizza Margherita and that is the best pizza in the fucking world!

Kokushibo

-Kokushibo picks the pizza backwards making himself 100% that the pizza man wasn't able to see his six eyes.

-Kokushibo just eats the pizza in the dark meditating about the past.

-For some odd reason he ordered the vegan pizza option and lots of garlic bread.

-Does not tip the pizza delivery guy.

-Strangely enough, the pizza delivery guy gets away unharmed.

[lira456]

Naruto failure of hokage in every front like his ancestors

Many things needed fair conclusions which were overlooked so what naruto did what kind of reform he enforced regarding clan laws and treatments because of uchiha tragedy, regarding reformation of child soldiers and anbu matters becuase of rin and itachi, regarding reforming continental laws and regulation if invasion of small coutries and villages happening and their rebuilding and reparation because of wrongdoings 5 NATIONS AND KAGE have caused in the past,

also how he gonna bind all shinobi villages and even countries in the mutual trust and common ground so that nothing unlawful conclusion happen like that of shikimaru shinden and who gonna maintain or correct it in future that's why you need solid effective laws that equally and equitably benefit and treat and question everyone( author only just blink of some years bring phone,computer and video games but still maintains feudal sytem does not have international laws we have under UN so that no one can easily go to war even israelis are condemned against by UN but in naruto we don't have any such organization,laws,platform for time to time problem which can connect all shinobi countries and villages on the continent, even villages can not oppose their daimyo's order meaning they have no alternative source of income so naruto did not find another way for complete econmical survival without shinobi missions on 80 percent level such as using chakra and exporting chakra tech not for warfare especially and chakra natures lol feels like he still wants to maintain system in 60 percent ground: pure bad writing to continue boruto),

also what about orphanage system for other villages especially orphan from small villages or destructive land or from remote area like that of ryogi and kabuto and kara children and ame child how did not naruto send no shadow clone or shinobi for such purpose as he always preach about how he understand everyone's pain so called messiah or any welfare like system for poor shinobi from impoverished village shinobi or even his own village especially their widows and orphans did not shown or pension like something for shinobi especially who lost their body parts such as guy or some especial payment for shinobi like kawaki's father and give him alternative employment becuase of being war hero could have saved kawaki feels like villages abandoned many remaining shinobi or why not give them alternative employment because of their past service (just simply dispose of them if they lost value so cruel, just how pain said), by checking all the shinobi they could have but becuase they don't have correct and effective database like system even without tech that's how inaffective their shinobi system is because it's only focus on deciphering stupid message that would do no good for average shinobi and their family, collect tax from people building hiring,build some stupid building, maintain shinobi academy and its doctrination and missions and ranks and secret non transparent scheme meaning they don't have any citizen or shinobi benefit only jonin and upper echelon have that luxury even nothing special fund for orphan that's why ryogi doest not send to kabuto nothing specific, only all connected to glrifying and worshipping their anscestor that's why they don't have effective database maintained because of that after the war they lost track many shinobi and who knows how their family survived not shown not even regarding the other villages saddening, also about their individual desire or dream for that can they stop being shinobi suddenly or leave the village, did not shown regarding such issues especially how they panicked when mitsuki left and send their kids to die really sad.

it seems they even don't have unique trade that could connect all in a way that not one can lie or go to war meaning kakashi did not create any trade system only how they can rebuild and maintain ninja system which was in threat because lack of manpower(losing most of the shinobi in the war) meaning focused mostly making buildings,transportation,long distant upgraded message device and sharing shinobi missions with other villages, so kakashi did not change any political,children curriculam,ideological and law related issues in the village, naruto not even focused on changing of dangerous social struture in kiri village and lack of resources problem in iwa country and village, even we did not see how sand village's lack of resouce problem and how they solved it under gaara, really half baked, so many things overlooked,

so even did not even focus on what law or regulation he would establish to maintain clan's inner environment and conflicts becuase hyuga slavery( ther are maybe no large clans left in konoha anymore because in boruto we never see any clan meeting like that of hyuga or many clan fighting together like sarutobi and akimichi only showed some yamanaka power but not said whether they are members of yamanaka or not that's likely most died in the war, ony maybe at bare minimum members around 20 to 30 and they maintain no more clan positive harmonious tradition like clan meeting and practice just stop the heritage as we are not shown, meaning some cultural genocide, naruto as hokage could have celebrated each clan's power as culture festival making it show in public like we see chinese,european cultures etc. in many carnival and festival, in this way he could have connected and create harmony and pleasure for these lost heritage clans because naruto was suppose to be a hope that connect people it seems he has forgotten his own theme in boruto cooperation through understanding and sharing pain lol he is not doing that kind of effort to maintain harmony,peace and love among village,clan and outsider instead he is busy in collecting more power and benefit from amado and eida and katasuke and even from kawaki, that's strategic why both kawaki and boruto remained in konoha and not in other village, so much for mutual trust lol.

This is why naruto as a hokage and MC is complete bulshite and loser especially kishimoto's false half baked writing surrounding lack of insight of political atmosphere felt so underserving and hypocritical because i felt so much ideological and behavioral difference between zabusa arc naruto and ending &boruto naruto, really dissapointing.

[yanderelmk]

Okay uhm hmmm

How about headcannons with MK, Mei, Red Son, Macaque, Wukong, and maybe Syntax

What if the reader kinda just disappeared for like a month. No trace of them left

Then they come back from vacation because they needed a break from the yanderes. Of course they would never know that

(You can ignore if it’s too troublesome-) ✨

A/N: Got so long I had to make a Part 2 sdighidof ---------------------------------------------- MK: - Absolutely inconsolable, constantly trying to message and call you to find out where you are -Extreme anxiety over whether you're safe or not, worrying if one of the demons got to you -Begins to fall into a depressed state thinking he got you hurt and/or killed -Can't sleep because all he can think about is that you might be out there waiting for him to save you but he can't find you. This is literally his nightmare scenario -The SECOND you come back he's clinging hard like a puppy and not letting you go. Constant calls and texts. I imagine especially during/after LBD he has serious separation anxiety so you just dropping off the face of the Earth for so long was massively bad MEI: -She tried to use every tech trick she knows to track down your location, the second she gets a ping she is going AFTER you, if you avoided her for a month it was likely at a place with no cell service -Would've been heavily stalking your social media for any tiny hint about where you were, analyzing whose posts you recently liked to see who might know where you are -Second you enter city limits she is going to ZOOM when you cell phone pings off the nearest cell tower -Clinging. So much clinging. Your arm is hers and she's not releasing -She may or may not bet trying to figure out a way to bug you so she can track where you go RED SON: -Red Son had bull clones sweeping the city and surrounding area the second he realized you were gone -Started going through a whole mourning arc thinking that you must have died, swearing that whatever brought about your end would know no peace so long as he had breath in his body -He's going to be FURIOUS when you come back and reveal that you went traipsing off without telling him - "I THOUGHT SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU! Do you know how many enemies my father has accumulated over the years?! I could not sleep or eat, I worried that somehow in some way they knew of your connection to me and were torturing you!" -You're gonna have to do a lot of making up to him, though of course he would never leave you, he'll just demand to know where you are every second of every hour of every day until his anxiety over the matter calms -He's gonna get so fed up with worrying that you're going to run off every time you leave for the store, but he has a solution! -WOE, INTO THE BASEMENT YE GO MACAQUE: -When he notices you're gone after the first few days, he began sending out his shadow clones to find word of you -He begins panicking more and more when he realizes you're not in the city -If necessary he'll have as many clones as he can make scouring the whole country for you -When he does find you and realizes you're safe, that you just left without telling him, he's going to be enraged -Just keeping you tied up in his cave isn't good enough. Oh no no no. -You'll be kept in the Lantern as punishment until he feels like you've learned your lesson, and then you'll be kept in his cave for the rest of your days