#science can only have my body or my money

[randomhuman45]

Other People's Will's:

- distribute my money to my family

- give my money to my pets

- donate my money to science/charities

My Will:

- sell everything I own, collect all the money and donate every penny to my one true love ao3

[boygirlctommy]

ALSO I’ve been drawing my beautiful incredible sad little oc his name is DX-4 which is short for a longer code that I did not memorize at all

[artbyblastweave]

Playing through Fallout:New Vegas for the first time in years. And I'm developing a newfound appreciation for the damage done to the intended pacing of the narrative with the addition of the Courier's Stash. I wake up in Goodsprings, and as part of the extended tutorial you have Ghosttown Gunfight, the fairly self-contained faction war between Goodsprings and the Powder Gangers. And the design intent, I think, is that this is probably supposed to be a pain in the ass, with only one or two avenues of support available to you given the low level at which you'll pick this one up. Six Powder Gangers, some in body-armor, would be a serious threat, and committing to fighting against that with your dinky 9mm and a varmint rifle seems like a rough time! An actual uphill battle, doing the right thing instead of the easy thing. Fortunately, Benny inexplicably left my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, so I cleaned up.

I'm working my way south, and, you know, in a version of the game where Benny didn't inexplicably leave my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, this would have been the knock-on effect of my "good" Karmic choice in defending Goodsprings; the road south is littered with powder gangers who'd have been neutral had I not kicked the hornet's nest. As it stands? Free experience. I hit Primm, and fighting through the cramped hallways of the Bison Steve I encounter an enemy armed with what was clearly supposed to be the first heavy weapon I'd encounter in the world. Tight Corridors. Inexplicable Grenade Launcher. I clean up. South I go to the Mojave outpost, Nipton, that whole thing. And clearly, clearly you aren't meant to take a swing at Vulpes here, right? You're supposed to take it in, get a sense for the legion. In the version of the game that shipped you're supposed to get bodied if you try to kick the beef gate here. There are allowances in the game for if you pull it off, sure, but I did try with just the service rifle, without the glorious first-strike capabilities afforded to me by the 40mm grenade launcher that Benny inexplicably left in the grave with me. It didn't go very well!

So now I'm dogged by Legion hit squads on my way to Novac, which I get the distinct impression was not the point in the game at which this was supposed to start happening to me, because I am gathering up some pretty expensive equipment, all sold for space. I punch through to Vegas, and at this stage, the clear developer intent is that you need to spend some time milling around Freeside or Camp McCarran in order to gain access to the Strip- do odd jobs to scrape up the money, buy the forgery from Mick and Ralphs, gain monorail access, get your science skill high enough to hack the robot. Get the lay of the land, get a feel for the people, send some time stewing in the human cost of House's walled garden before you head in and hear the pitch from the big man himself.

Except I've got 5000 caps from selling off all the legion killteam equipment. In I go!

And the fun thing is, right, the Courier's stash can't be diegetic, but it is having a very direct impact on the world here. A top legion guy just went down to my inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher. Whatever else I'm roleplaying as, I am roleplaying as a guy who woke up in the possession of an inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher, and neither I nor my character can plausibly ignore that fact given its terrible bloodstained utility. I play a man, a man who would be a good man, a man nonetheless bewitched by the terrible resolutory power of the grenade launcher. My best friend, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher! My worst enemy, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher!

[princessbrunette]

pogue!rafe who you call over to fix every minor inconveniences.. theres a cockroach bothering you or your ac’s acting up and rafe is the first guy you call 🙂‍↕️ he acts all nonchalant being “you could literally call the ac guy or your neighbor or someone. youre saying i come all the way here for this?” but you js go “but you’re the only one i trust rafey!!” and he eats that shit UP 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

perhaps you have strict kook parents who don’t let you bring men into the house — but rafe has worked on the house, they trust him — so he’s allowed right? he really doesn’t wanna come all that way just to press a few buttons on your ac that he knows you could do yourself — but he can’t help it, he’s just a man and you’re feeding his ego when you say stuff like “i’m not good at this kinda thing rafe, you’re all smart n’know how to fix things. oh, and my parents like you so they wouldn’t mind if you come here whilst they’re not home!” which makes his ears perk up like a rabbit of course. he reluctantly agrees and heads straight out.

it’s a specifically hot day, so when he turns up you’re walking around in just the tightest tiniest bikini because the ac is broken and you just couldn’t bring yourself to put clothes on.

he’s being his usual mean self, telling you to stay out of his way whilst he figures out the problem, and then once he figures it out starts telling you that you could have done it yourself — but you’re just smiling, barely listening, staring up at him looking all soft and grabbable which makes it hard for him to concentrate. you’re finding ways to get him to stay longer, offering him iced tea and food to which he declines every offer. before he leaves you get all upset, brow furrowed and pouty and he can’t stand it.

“what, huh? why are you looking at me like that?” he throws his arms up from the doorway to your bedroom, watching you sit on the bed sulking.

“why do you wanna leave so bad?” you mewl, genuinely sounding like you’re on the verge of tears and he sighs, scratching behind his ear.

“doin’ my job, kid. you’re not payin’ me to hang out and besides — m’not taking your money today.” he waves a hand and for a second you lose focus of your goal.

“wh— why?”

“i came over n’pressed a few buttons. s’not rocket science.”

“i’m still gonna pay you.” you cross your arms stubbornly and he spreads his palms carelessly, looking around.

“well uh, i’ll send it back.” he sarks and you huff, staring at your feet. he watches you for a moment, before giving in just a little and leaning on the door frame. “still upset? huh?”

“yes.” you pout.

“whats the problem now? you kook girls have got plenty’a shit to entertain yourself with alright you— you don’t need me for that. not a god damn babysitter.”

“you’re not babysitting. not even that much older than me, anyways.” you whine, only seemingly proving his point and he huffs out a laugh.

“jeeeesus christ.” he drawls under his breath before he strolls over to stand infront of you. you don’t look up at him, pointedly, so he taps beneath your chin twice. “hey.”

looking up, you look so sweet — he couldn’t deny it. “whats the issue?” he reiterates, and from his clipped tone you can tell he’s not gonna ask again if you refuse, he’ll just leave.

“want you…” you murmur, eyes getting hazy and low, pupils dilating before his very eyes like you’d flipped a switch. it’s tempting, very tempting but he backs off anyway.

“nah, nah you want a toy. go fuck on a dildo, m’not your slave.” he huffs tiredly as he drags his big body over to the doorway again. in almost a panic you let out a devastated noise, tears welling up.

“no i want you. rafey, c’mon… you have no idea. s’hurting.” you complain, and now his interest is piqued, turning around once more he licks his lips irritably at the back and forth, blinking at you.

“you think that shits not gonna hurt with me? huh?” he tilts his head, reaching down and boyishly grasping at the shape of himself through his jeans. “this shits bigger than any of the other suckers you’ve had. trust me, you don’t want this kid. go back to playing with kook boys.”

fed up and whiny, you bring your feet up onto the bed, spreading your thighs as you pull your bikini bottoms aside. he freezes on the spot, eyes locked in to the sight, only just taking in the pained look on your face. you weren’t lying, your cunt is a mess of slick, practically pulsating and clenching around nothing infront of him.

“i can take it. make me take it.” you request quietly, peering up at him. he exhales hard out his nose, looking around the room helplessly before storming towards you.

“yeah? alright. i’ll make you fuckin’ take it.”

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

[cryptidghostgirl]

so sorry for this (very) specific request hope it's not ocish

anyways alastor x wife reader who's a virologist / kinda a mad scientist??(girl just wants to start a apocalypse without anyone to bother her)

Like they got married for mutual benefits (whatever benefits he would gain and her having access to money for her wildest dreams) when they were humans (whether he actually loves her or not is up to you lmao)

They both die (I assume that she would die around when he died from her own negligence caused by her 'freedom' to do her work more often without actually worrying about him finding out) and she avoids him like the plague (not that hard to realize this so called radio demon is your 'husband' when you find his secret stash of 'local cuisine' in the fridge)

Then he goes missing and she finally kinda goes out of makeshift hiding, just chilling doing her evil deeds before finding about the Hazbin Hotel from some gossip

Deciding that, while redemption is most likely not gonna happen mostly for the fact she does not care, she joins Charlie's little program. For her own little project (just wants to have a angel test subject, gotta see if they can be a good carrier for her little virus)

The reader doesn't know that Alastor's back (you think she's gonna use vox tech? Or listen to the radio? Girl uses a non vox tech phone and maybe a computer and does her work) so she goes and knocks on the door to the hotel

Thinking that this shit is gonna be easy, after all her husband is gone so she won't be bothered by him. She can focus on her beautiful creations and maybe destory hell and heaven with a apocalypse for some laughs. While also getting access to heaven through Charlie somehow (maybe even Lucifer, girl doesn't know nor care)

Anyways you can just IMAGINE her surprise that right after Charlie greets her (Vaggie ofc suspicious af cause she knows damn well no sinner wants to be redeemed for the most part) then here comes the strawberry pimp coming to say hello

Would he recognize his lovely wife? Maybe

Ofc reader had a plan, and by plan I mean she just says they were married and now acts like their divorced (death do us part and we fuckin dead)

(Just for example, do what you want <3)

Anyways I'm sorry again (can you tell that I've been watching a lot of mlp infection aus :') )

A/N bestie,, i love an overly detailed request. no apologies. i hope i did it justice <3 <3 I have literally been obsessing over the whole 'we're dead. we've been parted.' reader idea. It's so fun. Also I am very sorry it took me so long to get to this. Also, I am not a woman nor am I in STEM (I'm an enby in history) so apologies if science stuff in this is bad. I'm basing the character off of Entrapta (my love) from Nate Stevenson's She-Ra remake.

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Gore. Murder. Bodies. Animal cruelty (not detailed at all just like test subjects and burning ants as a kid). Viruses/plague talk. Just capital d Death all around in this one folks. Suicide and starvation briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,584

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n hadn't been sad when Alastor died. It didn't really even register on her radar that he was gone until the police showed up at her door. Their marriage was more of an agreement than anything else, a division of labor. Y/n was a talented virologist who came from a rather wealthy family. He got access to her money, using it to start his own radio studio, and Y/n? Well Y/n got a clean up crew.

She had always been fascinated by death. It was a morbid curiosity that had followed her since childhood. The typical 'burning ants with a magnifying glass to mass murderer' pipeline only, murder was not exactly her objective. Since learning of the Black Death in school, she had been fascinated by biological warfare and weaponry. The stories of soldiers throwing infected bodies over the walls of city's to break down their defenses? It was magnificent, masterful, absolutely awe inspiring. Living through the Spanish Flu epidemic in 1918, watching how it tore through her city of New Orleans, only furthered her determination.

As soon as she had had the knowledge base to do so, she began working on bio-weapons on her own. She wanted to create a disease, to devastate the world. She wanted to watch the things around her crumble into ruin and know it was by her hand.

She'd found out about Alastor's hobby by accident. They were friends, of a sort, in that Y/n would show up randomly where ever he was and quiz him about radio waves. He worked at a radio station and she knew that. She had followed him, tracked him down. There was no reasoning behind it save he was the first person she'd really found out about that was involved in the business in New Orleans. She would pick his mind about getting the word out about things, marketing, advertising. She was prepping for the main event, for the day she finally created her magnum opus.

One day, when she had shown up unannounced at his door and broken in when he didn't respond to her knocking, Y/n had discovered him dismembering one of his victims. Alastor had stared at her, wide eyed in shock, fear and adrenaline mixing into an intoxicating combination in his veins. Y/n had just smiled.

She had been wondering about human experimentation for a while now. Animals were easy to cover up, easy to bury in the back yard but people? It had always been too risky, up until now anyways.

So it went like this: Y/n funded Alastor's dreams and he hid the side effects of hers. When he died, Y/n didn't really feel anything too strongly about it at all. Yes, it made life harder in that if she wanted to keep using human guinea pigs she'd have to figure out a way to dispose of them on her own but it also made it easier. Alastor had always been so obsessed with image, dragging her to office parties and forcing her to sit down to meals with him. Now that he was gone, she could work on her projects in peace once again. The body thing was something she would figure out along the way. She was smart and she wasn't going to let something like that stop her, not when she was this close to cracking it.

As it turns out, Alastor had been more of a help than Y/n believed. So used to his nattering and persistence, she had stopped eating. It wasn't long before she joined her husband in death. The papers of course had a field day with it. Heiress and Virologist Y/n L/n Withers Away Due to Heartbreak. Y/n L/n Starved Herself to Death and Joins her Murderer of a Husband. Virologist Commits Suicide After Revelation of Dead Husband's Criminal Deeds.

When Y/n had woken up in Hell, her whole world had been turned upside down. If there was life after death, what was the point of killing everyone on earth? She was back at square one.

Rumors were already buzzing through the streets of Hell about some new overlord, some Radio Demon, who had a strikingly similar MO to her husband. Not wanting any distractions this time around, Y/n secluded herself in the outskirts of the pride ring to reformulate her plans.

For decades she worked, trying to create a poison to wipe out the dual planes of the underworld. Work was easier here. No one questioned why she bought the things she bought, no one got upset when people went missing. Hell, no one even blinked twice if they saw her burying a body. It was a veritable paradise for Y/n.

Eventually, news reached her of the Radio Demon's disappearance. Y/n had never been the biggest fan of technology that wasn't involved in her work. In the world of the living, she had barley read the papers. All the machines in her laboratory were ones she had built herself through trial and error. But still, somehow, the news reached her and she felt elated. The last thing weighing her down, the last road block had officially been lifted.

Within seven years, she had perfected the disease. Having run tests on lower rings of Hell, she prided herself on her ability to make it so infections, so deadly. The survival was on par with that of unvaccinated human's infected by rabies. But her plan wasn't complete, no. Taking out everyone in Hell wasn't good enough, she had to figure out how to get it into Heaven as well.

That was when the perfect opportunity fell in her lap. Y/n nearly cried when she caught sight of the interview through the window of a shop selling Vox branded TVs. Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer's little brat, was creating a hotel for sinners, where they could be rehabilitated and sent to Heaven. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Y/n didn't question it, her own excitement blinding her. She barley even took the time to come up with a plan that consisted of more than get into the hotel and get her hands on an angel. She figured that was something that could be dealt with later on.

After a few days of research and snooping, she finally made her move. Having packed her bags and woven her way through the streets of Pentagram City, she found herself before the brightly lit marquee of the Hazbin Hotel. Placing her bag on the ground beside her, the test tubes and various paraphernalia inside clinked gently against one another. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.

It was Charlie herself who answered, with wide eyes and an earnest smile. A smaller moth demon beside her crossed her arms, eyeing Y/n with doubt. It barley registered with the excitable demon, she was used to the strange looks. The new form Hell had granted her with when she died was odd, after all. She was still the same height, still held a roughly human shape, but her hair had become its own beast. It moved like secondary limbs, falling nearly to the floor from the pigtails she had tied it up into. It shot up into the air around her in joy at the sight of yet another open door in her path, this one literal rather than figurative.

"Hello!" Charlie exclaimed, "Are you here to check in?"

"Yes, check in." Y/n nodded, using her hair to pick her bag back up.

She took a step forward, trying to enter the hotel, but found her path blocked by the smaller grey demon. Her arms were uncrossed now, one of them pointing a spear right at Y/n's neck. Y/n didn't flinch, she simply looked down at it in curiosity, reaching a finger up to touch the end.

"Ow." she said flatly as the spear's tip pressed into the pad of her finger.

Raising it to her eyes, she rubbed the droplet of blood that had pooled on her pointer finger with her thumb before turning back to the spear.

"Is this..." Y/n leaned forward, grabbing the spear's shaft.

"Hey!" Vaggie yelled threateningly as Y/n crouched down, examining the weapon carefully.

"Oh my stars, this is an angelic blade, isn't it?" she exclaimed, her eyes still fixed on the spear.

"Uh..."

Vaggie was more confused now than anything and she took the slightest step away from the excited demon. Y/n followed her and soon, they were in the entry way to the hotel. Charlie watched the scene play out with mild amusement, finding her girlfriends bewildered state rather charming. She let the door fall shut.

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n asked again, "But how did you get it? Did you make it? What do you do with it? Is it more effective than normal weapons? Why a spear? I-"

"What's this, we have a new guest?" a crackling voice cut Y/n off.

"Uh, yes!" Charlie stepped in, turning to face the newcomer.

Y/n, still preoccupied with the spear, was now engaged in trying to get Vaggie to let her hold it.

"I think..." Charlie doubtfully added, her brow furrowing at the site.

"Well well well, a little devil." Alastor hummed, turning to watch the show as well, "Honestly, reminds me of someone I knew back when I was alive and kicking. Ah well, what's her name?"

"I don't... actually know that yet." Charlie admitted, fiddling with her hands a bit as she spoke, "But she seems really enthusiastic about being here!"

"It seems she more interested in that spear of Vaggie's than the idea of redemption." Alastor noted in response.

"Are either of you going to help me or are you just gonna sit and watch?" Vaggie exclaimed, trying her best to pry the spear out of Y/n's grip.

Alastor sighed and with a twirl of his microphone, a shadow arose, pulling Y/n off Vaggie. There was a split second where the smile on the girl's face fell. It quickly returned as she caught sight of what exactly had interrupted her escapades. Placing her bag on the floor with her hair, she wormed around in the shadow's arms, turning to face it. Tentatively, she poked it.

"Would you stop that?" Alastor asked, his voice thick with irritation.

Y/n poked the shadow again.

"What is this? How are you doing this?"

When no response came from the demon in question, she at last turned to face him.

"Oh."

She stilled in her movements and Alastor allowed the shadow to disappear.

"No reason to be scared." Charlie quickly stepped in, "I know Alastor here has a bit of a... reputation, but he is actually helping us at the hotel. He's really a great once you get to know him."

Alastor's smile widened as he bowed his head slightly in recognition of the praise.

"If you're going to be staying her-"

"You can't seriously be thinking of letting her stay here, Charlie." Vaggie cut in, "She's been here what, five minutes? And all thats come of it is chaos."

"Vaggie, come on, don't be like that." Charlie turned to her girlfriend, "Everyone deserves a second chance, that's the whole reason we built this place."

"But does she even want to be redeemed? I mean, what if she's... I don't know, trying to take us down from the inside out? What if she's a journalist or some shit trying to write us bad reviews?"

"You flatter me." Y/n smiled and Vaggie scoffed.

"See?"

"Isn't that all the more reason to let her in? Vaggie, if she is undercover as a journalist or something, we just have to prove to her how amazing what we're doing here is."

"I don't know... I've never seen her before, what if she's another one Vox sent?"

Y/n shook her head, sticking her tongue out slightly in disgust at this notion and Alastor chuckled. There really was something so familiar about this demon and her antics. Even if she was a tad irritating, it was a comfortable familiarity.

"Then we will figure it out, same way we did with Sir. Pentious. Okay?"

"Fine." Vaggie relented at last with a sigh.

Smiling brightly, Charlie turned back to Y/n.

"So, hi. I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! What's your name?"

Y/n's eyes flicked back and forth between Alastor and Charlie for a moment before settling on Charlie.

"Y/n L/n."

Alastor let out a little laugh of disbelief, a sound he had meant to keep in. He couldn't help it. Of course this little mess of a demon was his favorite crazy wife. Alastor had looked for Y/n on occasion, always keeping an eye on news involving anything scientific but, he had never found a trace. Not that he'd admit it but, in their time together, he had grown rather fond of the girl. Not love, never love, but a sort of familial feel. Everyone turned to face him.

"Are you alright, Alastor?" Charlie asked, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm which he quickly brushed off.

"Yeah, do you know her or something?" Vaggie added, "Is she dangerous?"

"No..." he paused, his brow slightly furrowed, "She's my wife."

The room fell silent.

"You... you didn't recognize your own wife?" Vaggie asked in disbeleif.

"Ex-wife." Y/n corrected with a little sigh.

This was all becoming so tedious. She hadn't come here to sit and talk with people. While the spear and the shadow had been fun, they had both run their courses and she just wanted to get to work.

"I..." Alastor turned back to Y/n, "Ex-wife?"

Y/n shrugged.

"So you didn't recognize your wife and you didn't know you were divorced?" Vaggie asked, rubbing her temples, "Jesus fuck, man."

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "We were married when we were alive. I didn't even know she was dead yet."

"Yeah." Y/n shrugged, "Turns out all your nattering was what was keeping me alive. I forgot to eat, starved to death."

Alastor's eyes softened slightly for a moment at the notion. She had needed his care so badly that she had died with out it. It felt good, in a strange way. Satisfying. They darkened again as he recalled her earlier statement.

"Ex-wife?" he asked again, taking a step towards Y/n.

She looked up at him, her expression blank.

"Yeah?"

"When did we get a divorce!" Alastor exclaimed once he realized she would say nothing else on the matter without his prompting.

"Oh! We didn't." Y/n nodded, smiling slightly, "Now, can I go to my room?"

"No, Y/n. Why are you calling yourself my ex-wife? We are still married."

Y/n looked around at Charlie and Vaggie, seeing if they were going to back up her claim. Sighing, she turned back to Alastor.

"Do I really have to lay it out for you?" she paused and Alastor just stared at her, eyebrows raised, "Jesus. Uh, Al, we died."

"Yes...?"

"Till death do us part? That was the agreement."

"I... Well..." he was at a complete and total loss for how to respond.

She wasn't wrong, he just didn't like her answer very much.

"So... the agreement is done... yeah?"

"I mean," Alastor shook his head slightly, "I guess?"

"Great! Can someone please show me to my room now."

---

Next Part -> Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3

Part 2

Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!

The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”

“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”

“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”

Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”

“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”

Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”

“Ah.”

Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.

“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.

Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.

“Your Dad?”

Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.

“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”

Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”

Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”

“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”

“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.

“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.

“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”

Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”

Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.

“So, con artists or mad scientists?”

“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.

“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.

“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”

“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.

“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.

“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.

“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”

“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”

“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”

Part 4

[crippleprophet]

rules of engagement before we begin: do not seek the original post out to interact with it negatively or harass op in any way. if i find out about anybody doing that sort of shit i’ll block them so quick it’ll be the fastest i’ve moved all year. ok thx here we go

[image description: three screenshots of a post with the username blacked out. the introductory & closing paragraphs are as follows, & the bullet points will be listed within the body of this post. the introduction reads:

nobody warns you this but addiction happens without you noticing and one of the first things that it attacks is your ability to care. if you find yourself using recreational drugs every day, stop and take one day a week sober. if you struggle with this or if you don't see the point of the exercise, you are likely already addicted and you need help.

nobody ever taught me the warning signs for drug addiction, only that "it costs lots of money and destroys your life!!!1" which is not helpful if you can't recognize a developing addiction in yourself. so here's some things to watch out for with recreational drug use.

the conclusion reads: yes this applies to weed. weed is a drug and you can get addicted to it like any other substance. addiction is not the same as physical dependence; it is psychological and it can happen to anyone. you are not immune to addiction. end image description.]

now! fundamentally why i will never align with this kind of perspective is that i affirm addiction as a social construct, like all so-called mental illnesses, & the psychiatric institution which invents & reifies them as a fucking sham.

answer quickly:

what substances is it possible for one to become addicted to? does this include caffeine? why or why not?

is the claim of sugar addiction legitimate or anti-fat pseudoscience? what, if anything, differentiates this from other addiction science?

what is the harm of the so-called opioid epidemic: access to a safe supply of narcotics, or the lack thereof?

can an autistic person who eats the same dinner every night, for example, be said to be “psychologically addicted” to it if they have a meltdown & subsequent ongoing distress + disinterest in food when it is discontinued?

can you be addicted to psychiatric medication? immunosuppressants? why or why not?

my point is less that these behaviors are not indicative of addiction but rather that that wouldn’t inherently make them harmful. fuck it, let’s take it point by point!

planning your day around drugs e.g "i'll give myself an extra half hour before heading out so i can get high first"

this whole post had me asking “literally what is the problem with this,” starting with this first bullet! why does someone need to leave for the grocery store at 5:30 instead of 6, or whatever? and the other recurring theme: what happens if you replace “drugs” with “pain management”? (chronic pain is not the only valid reason to get high—all reasons for drug use are equally value-neutral—but it certainly still is one.) “i’ll give myself an extra half hour before heading out for my pain management to start working” is the kind of calculation familiar to most people with chronic pain. “stop and take one day a week without pain management” is not a test of whether you “need help,” it’s torture.

now, disregarding one’s priorities or commitments to other people in favor of drugs can happen, & in many circumstances it’s harmful to the other people impacted. that’s not what was said here, & stopping that behavior does not require getting sober.

rapidly switching emotions around drugs. you love them but you hate that you love them so much. you hate the way you feel on them but you hate being sober. feeling guilty after using even when you didn't give a crap beforehand.

do you know what else i love but hate that i love, what else i hate using? my fucking bed. three years ago, my mobility scooter. this is not a logical argument, this is a bullshit argument. my feelings about something do not inherently reflect its harm to others – or to myself, even, though i firmly argue for the right to make “self-harmful” decisions regardless.

you know what people hate being on but hate worse being off? the vast fucking majority of medications.

why might a drug user start to feel guilty when they previously didn’t? being shamed by friends, family, or a fucking tumblr post; surpassing a constructed threshold of “acceptable” use they didn’t know they’d internalized; experiencing new or greater access issues; beginning to probe their morality around drugs & unpack things they were taught; experiencing consequences of criminalization; getting triggered.

caring less about spending money. if you are budgeting for drugs like they are food, you are likely prioritizing them more than is healthy.

“if you are budgeting for pain management like it’s as important as food, you are likely prioritizing it more than is healthy.” health is absolutely useless as a value for me anyway, but: the food’s no good if i’m too nauseous or too dead to eat it.

prioritizing drugs over other people’s financial needs is harmful! this wouldn’t happen if food & drugs were provided to people; some people wouldn’t need as many drugs if their needs were met otherwise; people’s needs being met shouldn’t be dependent on their parent / partner / self not using drugs; this harm is not what the bullet says.

getting high to do household chores and other unpleasant things because it would suck less and be more bearable on drugs

“things should suck. because god wills it i said so.”

feeling anxious or restless while sober, not knowing what to do with oneself, feeling lost or ungrounded.

again just. what’s the problem with that. so what if being sober sucks or is boring or stressful or demanding. so what if someone decides to deal with that sober or decides to use more because of that. who gives a shit.

thinking about doing drugs constantly even while sober. maybe it's the first thing you think of when you wake up. maybe when you're bored or otherwise have free time, drugs are one of the first things you can think of to occupy yourself with.

“thinking about getting better pain management constantly when you’re in pain”

i feel like you’re gonna tell me the only thing that can really take my pain away is jesus

again like. what is the problem with doing drugs because you’re bored. why do i need to occupy myself, what, fucking productively?

going to work or school while under the influence, especially if it happens regularly and if you're seeing your performance suffer as a result.

what’s wrong with going to school high. derailing a class discussion is a dick move, maybe, but that’s not inherent to being high. work & performance are both very broad terms – a surgeon or someone operating heavy machinery not being sober is putting others at risk of harm in a way a cashier is not.

the idea of taking a 'tolerance break' sounds good to you until it's actually break time, at which point you can come up with 20 very reasonable sounding points to explain why it wouldn't benefit you actually and you should just keep doing drugs regardless.

y’all think this is incredibly circular logic too right? “drugs are bad, so telling yourself drugs are not bad is proof that they’re bad.” took me right back to the sunday school classroom and i wish i was fucking exaggerating. it’s an argument founded upon the inherent wrongness of trusting yourself – what you want to do must be wrong because you want it. this is one of the points that’s a more solid indicator of, like, “congrats! you’re now in circumstances doctors are salivating to psychiatrize as XYZ Use Disorder,” but that doesn’t make it any less nonsense as a moral argument.

even if you succeed at quitting the drug, you keep your dealer's number on your phone "just in case"

so what. what’s wrong with giving yourself the continual autonomy to choose whether or not to do drugs. what’s wrong with quitting drugs for a while and starting using again.

you pretend to be sober when you aren't. you worry about other people noticing how much time you spend high. you make efforts to hide your drug use or minimize how much other people think you're using. you're scared of other people's judgement if they were to find out.

this one might be the most ludicrous to me, which is really saying something. “if other people being bigoted towards drug users makes you pretend to use less than you do, that’s your fault & not theirs.” cool! thanks for the quick heads up to not believe a word you say!

you have mood swings laced with self-hatred, regret, financial worries, and guilt. these mood swings are then very quickly wiped away by feelings of "but it doesn't matter, i can do what i want, and clearly i'm doing just fine while using drugs frequently". news flash, if you are rapidly switching between feeling numb-ok and hating yourself more than anything because of your drug use, you are mentally ill.

again, “the norm knows you better than you know yourself, you can’t listen to yourself, the body is wrong, wanting is wrong, pleasure is wrong, you are wrong wrong wrong.” but god, what a beautiful example of how oppression is psychiatrized: it’s not enough for the oppression to have worked, the system must then convince us that the effects of it working are our own fault. it’s not enough to just kill us with us fully aware of the knife, it’s gotta convince us we’re bleeding out for no reason. if you want any moments of pleasure during your miserable godforsaken little life you’d better put your nose back on the goddamn grindstone and repent. everything around you for your entire life has told you to hate yourself for your drug use but if the combined force of that violence works you are mentally ill, and that is the worst crime of all.

according to this post, when is it okay to use drugs, then? well, not planned into your day, and not at work or school, but not when you’re bored or have been thinking about it too much, and not if anyone who’d judge you or you don’t trust knowing you’re high or you just don’t want knowing is around, and not if you don’t want to quit, but also not if you’ve quit already. you have to hate your drug use otherwise that’s proof it’s attacked your ability to care but hating your drug use is proof you should stop. #JustSayNo

[kushnovice]

Spinning My World

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark! Reader

Synopsis: Reader tends to the avengers wounds constantly and when Tony opens an emotional wound in the reader, Bucky is there to help.

wc: 2.4k

Warnings: my first bucky fic, medical, wounds, tending to wounds, sibling rivalry, mention of dead parents, fluffy love, slow-burn

AN: Female reader, fluffy, lots of mistakes, self indulgent (Pictures are not mine nor are any characters part of this)

What makes the earth go round? to most people it's money, to others it's family. To me, it's love.

I grew up with Tony Stark, my older brother. He was never that big on affection which was something he picked up from our parents and because of that, Tony and I aren't as close as we once were before our parents died. I spend most of my time making sure the house is always put together and cooking food for Tony and Pepper. I always feel a little guilty as I haven't achieved as much as my older brother and living with him and all of his fancy things just rubs it in. I also spend a lot of time studying. Since we have the money, I am attending an Ivy League school online. Unlike Tony, I don't like robots and technology, I prefer to help people. I am majoring in Medical Science as well as minoring in Psychology, which the amount of work is unbearable.

I sigh as I close one of my textbooks, my notebook, and my laptop, leaving them on the desk in my room. I make my through the long winding halls and into the kitchen, the tiles on the floor leaving my feet cold as I walk. I flick on the light as I walk in and take a deep breath, finally feeling at peace. The kitchen was always my safe space since Tony never cooked for himself, neither did any of the avengers. It was my own tiny world of peace.

I smile softly to myself as I make my way to the sink, I start to wash my hands while humming a song. "Friday, can you play (song name)?" As the song starts playing, I feel more comfortable as I start pulling what I would need from the fridge and the cabinets. I then fill up a pot of water and put it on the stove to boil and preheat the oven before I start separating and seasoning the chicken. I then start to cut up some veggies before checking on the pasta that I am making. After everything is cooking, I take the time to dance in the kitchen, just enjoying the music and how it flows through my body. That was until I heard the door open. I jerk my head to see who it is, only to be stunned by the sight in front of me. There he was, the most beautiful creature this world had ever created, but he was drenched in blood. Without thinking, I walk right up to him and start to examine him from what I can see. "Oh buck, what happened this time?" I ask as I eye him up and down for injuries, feeling better after not finding any serious ones. Bucky sighed deeply, "The mission was hijacked. I'm not the only Injured one." I sigh deeply as I take the food out of the oven and put the veggies and sauce into the pasta. Then, without a second thought, i make my way to the medical clinic, which I pretty much run.

I put my coat on and wash my hands again before putting on gloves. I make my way into the emergency room that we have to see Tony laying on a gurney. I immediately start to cut his shirt and pants off as I examine his body, the deep wounds showing no mercy as they continue to bleed. I sterilize the wound and start stitching him up and taking my time to make sure it's perfect.

After a few hours, I was done with making sure Tony was alright and had checked out all of the other team members. I look at the clock and sigh deeply when I realize that it is close to 1 in the morning. I make my way through the winding hallways again and I stand outside of Buckys room. "Hey Buck, are you awake?" I ask softly knowing his super human hearing can pick up my voice, and sure enough because the door unlocks and slides open revealing that he had just got out of the shower. I blush slightly as i try not to stare at his bare chest, "oh um...sorry I was just coming to give you a quick check up..." I shuffle awkwardly at his door but he nods softly and lets me in his room.

The smell of Axe Body spray and Midsummers Night circle the room. I sit Bucky down as I start to stitch up a few of his wounds. It stays mostly silent, neither of us knowing what to talk about until Bucky speaks up, "aren't you tired?" I furrow my eyebrows, "why would I be tired?" Bucky sighs deeply, "we go on these missions almost daily and you're the only one who gives us medical help, isn't it tiring?" I look up from his stitches to smile softly at Bucky, "No, it's not tiring. If anything, it gives me a purpose and makes me a hero like you guys." I giggle to myself at how corny that sounded before going back to stich bucky up.

After I am done, I make sure I didn't miss any dry blood before I stand up, "make sure you eat dinner, I don't know if the others did yet but you need to eat." I smile at him to which he gives me a small smile at the end of his lips. "I did eat already, it was delicious." I smile at him as I watch him put his shirt back on, "good good, I tried a new recipe today so I'm glad it is good." I smile to myself thinking about how Bucky enjoyed my food. "Did you eat yet?" Bucky asks with a furrowed eyebrow and I'm left shocked, normally i'm the one asking that question. "I was about too, then all of that happened," I smile at Bucky but his facial expressions don't change this time. "You really should eat." I nod my head and start to make my way into the kitchen to see a huge mess of plates and bowls and forks all over the place and all of the food gone. "at least they liked it" I smile to myself as I shrug off my coat and take off my gloves, "Friday, some music please" I speak as I start to pick up the plates and bowls and utensil's and place them in the sink. I then pick up all the trash and wipe down the counter while dancing around the kitchen. I spend a few hours cleaning, until it is spotless before I turn off the music and realize I wasn't alone. As I go to grab my coat and turn off the light, I hear a voice, "Aren't you going to eat?" I whip my head around, looking for where the voice came from until I can see Bucky, just outside the door. "there was no more left, i'm glad everyone enjoyed it." I smile at him but he doesn't smile back, he makes his way into the kitchen and starts grabbing stuff. "woah woah woah what are you doing?" I ask as I watch him start up the stove. "You need to eat. More than any of us." Buckys voice is stern and emotionless but I can tell that he cares. "I'm alright, I'll be up in a few hours to cook breakfast anyways." I look at the time and then at Bucky who then turns to me with furrowed eyes again his eyes studying me and trying to figure me out as he looks me up and down. "Why do you cook for everyone? Why do you go out of your way for everyone? I don't get how that benefits you." I sigh deeply, "I don't do it for me, I do it for you guys. You guys are heros and are saving the world every day. the least I can do is cook you guys a warm meal and make sure you guys don't get too hurt." "But why?" Bucky asks as he cracks open an egg and starts to cook it. "You guys deserve it, you deserve the best." I smile at him softly, watching his movements while I think. "Why do you save the world?" I ask while watching his movements. He seems relaxed and calm "Because if I can help save the world then there's hope to save myself." He speaks in a quiet whisper, "why do you save us? why are you so interested in medicine?" He asks with seriousness, trying to understand me better. "I was never taught self defense so I save the world in the only way I know, medicine." Bucky turns to look at me, "you don't give yourself enough credit, no one does." I can hear how he sighs softly. I let myself smile, knowing this was his way of showing he cared. Bucky finished cooking the food and he made two plates, setting one in front of me while he sat across the table from me. He immediately downs his food within seconds leaving me to take awhile to finish my food. When I'm finished eating, I grab our plates and put them in the dishwasher. When i make my way back into the dining room, Bucky is watching me as soon as I enter the room. "What? Is there food on my face?" I jokingly ask, with a smirk on my face as I make my way back to sit down. Bucky snorts softly at my comment, "No, I just don't get how someone could look so pretty after working for so many hours." Buckys voice is soft but his eyes are full of emotion as his hands fold on the table. I feel myself melt under his gaze as my cheeks start to burn, "Oh, uhm...thanks..." I giggle lightly, "You aren't too bad looking for someone who just got stitched up." I reply causing bucky to be taken aback.

"Why are you two up at 2 in the morning?" Tony asks as he walks into the dining room in his black robe that is barely covering his bare chest and his blazers. Tony somehow still has his shades on as well as his slippers on as he sets down some coffee and a sandwich at the table and sits down. "I was just making sure your sister ate after giving everyone medical exams." Bucky replied as he stared blankly at tony as he ate. "Interesting." Tony replied quickly as he started to eat. "I'm glad that your mission didn't go to badly, not many people were injured." I smiled at Tony as I recall the injuries that everyone had got. Tony sighed as he swallowed the food in his mouth, "Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?" I roll my eyes at how immature Tony still is after all of these years. "Somebody's cranky." I snort to myself, Tony glares daggers at me. "Somebody needs to shut up." I smile at Tony, now enjoying fucking with him. "I don't have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel." I smirk at Tony, thinking I got the better up. "Frankly, I don't care. Just like how he never cared about Mom and Dad. You know who killed them right?" Tony asks as he glares between Bucky and I. "If you're insinuating that Bucky killed our parents then fuck you!" I yell in Tony's face, not able to control my anger as I get up and storm off. Bucky looks at Tony as Tony finishes his sandwich, not purposefully glaring but staring deeply at him causing Tony to get uncomfortable and scramble out of the room.

Bucky sighs deeply as he makes his way to my room, thinking of the right words to say as he ends up right outside of my door. "Hey...I know Tony's words really hurt but I'd like to tell you my story, not what you've heard from files but my life the way I lived it, when I had control of my life." Bucky expected no response honestly, who would want to talk to their parents murderer? Surprisingly the door swung open as Bucky looked in at my small trembling figure on the floor, a pang in his heart caused him to lose his breath seeing her in such pain.

I lift my head to meet Buckys soft eyes as he moves to sit on the bed next to me. His voice was kind but also firm as he told me all about his life, from his time in Brooklyn with Steve all the way through Hydra, he spoke about my parents last almost as if to save me the pain. "Your parents...they were a mission I had to carry out while apart of Hydra, or else I would have died as well as them...I wish I never had too..." Bucky sighs deeply as he looks at the ground. "You don't have to be my friend or even be nice to me, but I just wanted you to know that I never wanted to hurt anyone." Bucky softly got up, expecting to be kicked out before he felt my hands wrapped around his human arm. "I want to be your friend. It hurts knowing that you did that to my parents and I don't think that hurt will ever go away, but I do know that it wasn't you, that you didn't do it on your own will. I forgive you, Buck." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around Bucky's human hand, taking his warmth from him as it comforts my shaking body as I am able to relax into my bed and into Bucky, feeling safe and comfortable for once. I don't remember what happened after that other than my eyes forcing themselves closed as Bucky's mechanical arm softly strokes my hair.

I wake up to the sun shining brightly in my eyes causing me to instantly rub my eyes. I stretch with a small groan, wishing to be asleep still as I reach my arms above my head. I hear a rough chuckle beside me and open my eyes to see Bucky smirking down at me, "Morning, Doll." I feel my face go red at the nickname. I roll over to face him in the bed, "I'm sorry that I kept you here all night." I apologize softly as I yawn the sleepy feeling away. He smiled softly down at me, the golden sun reflecting off of his eyes making it look like tigers eye. "You have nothing to apologize for, darling." He used his fingers to swoop the stray strands of hair out of my face. "It was the best sleep I have gotten in awhile." He confessed as he pulled me a little closer, his body heat keeping me warm as he smiled down at me cheekily. "Don't smile at me like that, you know it drives me crazy..." I giggle at him softly as I place my hand on his face before leaning in. Bucky closed the gap as he took my lips in his, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in closer as he chuckles into the kiss.

"How else would I make your world spin?"

[pharawee]

It's Friday Sunday, and that means it's time for more omegaverse shenanigans. 🥳

Sadly, this will be my last Pit Babe novel commentary post for a while because the main story only has 25 chapters. But worry not! Apparently there's a few extra chapters and if anything significant happens you'll be the first to know (but don't be surprised if it's just chapter upon chapter of kinky sex - that's just how Daddy and Papa Charlie and Babe roll).

If you want to catch up, you can find parts 1, 2, 3 & 4 here.

As for this part - expect major spoilers, shenanigans (both omegaverse and not), family reunions, family reunions... and fun card games. But more on that later.

For now, let's get back to Babe, who's apparently rich enough to own a white Ferrari. Show-off. He's currently on his way back to Khun Tony, and he's such a brat about it that he fools the guards into letting him through. Things escalate from there. Babe threatens to bring Tony to justice once and for all, to which Tony reacts with mild bemusement. He's no longer interested in Babe since he's lost his powers, and he even taunts him with Charlie's (supposed) death. No, Tony didn't want Charlie dead. He merely wanted to incapacitate him in order to bring him back home (because car accidents are such a precise science...). It's a pity that Charlie died but, really, at least he's free now. Or something.

This man must have stupid amounts of money to throw at all of his plans because, quite honestly, they're shit. Oh well, at least we know where Way learned his... well, unnecessarily long-winded (TEN YEARS!!) ways.

Babe has heard enough but sadly Kenta steps in before he can get his hands on Tony. This leads to more taunting and the appearance of Way, who casually slings Babe over his shoulder and forcibly removes him from the premises. Which leaves the guards like, "who tf even was that weirdo?" Oh, to be a guard in Khun Tony's employment...

(photoshop is my passion)

Meanwhile, Charlie (alive and, uh, relatively well) is still busy having his stolen powers exorcised by Babe's long-lost dad (the real one this time). The more he uses a particular ability, the longer it takes to meditate out of him. No, seriously, Reval and Charlie are basically just sitting in a room mind-palacing the powers away. Apparently it's very draining.

They also talk about Charlie's guilt, and how he believes it's best to stay away from Babe as not to hurt him again. Sure, he could leave the final decision to Babe but even that, he fears, might be selfish of him as that leaves Babe with the burden of having to decide in the first place. No matter what he does, it will cause Babe both happiness and pain - just like when Charlie's initial selfishness brought him closer to Babe and then almost drove him away entirely. Charlie's mind is going in circles. He's so protective of Babe that he doesn't realise - no matter his intentions, no matter his inaction - he can't untangle himself from the hurt he's already caused and will cause going forward.

Oh, and by the way? That moment when Charlie "died" in the hospital and Babe thought he was getting his powers back and had to listen in on every excruciating detail of Charlie's body shutting down? Yeah, turns out that was Charlie causing (mass) hallucinations and slowing down his body functions. Poor Alan had to go identify Charlie's body in the morgue while Babe was in such a bad way that he basically stopped functioning.

I've said this before and I'll say it again: what the hell, Charlie, you positively traumatised the poor boy. Could you maybe have kicked the bucket a little less dramatically? Did you really have to enact all of Babe's worst nightmares to make it more convincing? Just because you mean well (and didn't do it over the span of TEN YEARS for weird omegaverse breeding purposes) doesn't make it all right.

But more on that later.

Babe has made his way to a safe house. There, he meets Pete - the oldest of Tony's sons and currently AWOL, same as Babe. Pete is adorable, all sunshine and puppies and right-hand man of a local mafia boss. Or something. Because, you see, Pete figured out early on that the only way to leave Tony was to seek the protection of someone even worse. So he started working with the mafia, as you do. Apparently, he's so good at his job that he's convinced them all to go straight. Now he's studying to become a doctor. Oh, and also planning Tony's demise by preparing a really effective presentation.

That's where Babe comes in. Him visiting Tony's mansion was all a distraction - a sleight of hand, if you will. Even though he complains about Way manhandling him (Pete offers to get him a masseuse for the pain) it was all part of their plan:

While Babe distracted the guards by making a big stink, Way snuck into Tony's evil room of plotting (or something) and stole all of his evil data. When he later dragged Babe outside, he used the opportunity to slip the data stick into his pocket. On it there's evidence of all of Tony's evil business transactions. It would be easy to give it to the police, but Pete cautions against it. The evidence would simply vanish - something that has apparently happened many times before. Instead, Pete plans to reveal all of Tony's evil deeds in a way that makes it impossible for anyone to ignore.

We cut to Charlie and Babe sharing a cute moment. Wait, what?

"I've never loved anyone this much before." Babe's voice was soft, as if he didn't really want to accept reality, but he couldn't help but share those feelings with [Charlie]. "I'm afraid that if I love you too much, it will make you uncomfortable. [...] I'm afraid I can't love you as well as you love me."

Is it a dream? A memory? A (shared) vision? Whatever it is, before Babe wakes up from it, he and Charlie share some fundamental truths about themselves. About how Babe doesn't really know how to act now that he's in a relationship because he's never been allowed to be in love. About how he feels vulnerable and unsure, afraid of taking too much instead of giving back. But Charlie reassures him that he likes Babe just the way he is. He feels very loved, and anyway, he's also never loved anyone before so it's not like he has any grounds for comparison.

Meanwhile, Charlie also just woke up. He's given away the last of his powers and he's very exhausted. Jeff is with him to keep him company. Outside, it's just stopped raining. The rain makes Charlie think of Babe because it accompanied them throughout their relationship: when they argued, when they fought, and when they first became boyfriends.

"And the first day you became a normal person, it also rained," Jeff added with a small smile [...]. "But you couldn't see it in time. Only I saw." "Yes, when I woke up, the rain had already stopped." "Maybe that's a good sign." "A good sign?" "Yes," the young man nodded lightly. "Because the rain has stopped. [...] The sky is clear now."

What is this? Allegory? In my omegaverse novel??

There's always been a shadow hanging over Charlie and Babe's relationship - heavy and dark like a rain cloud, constantly reminding them of their past, their powers and the lies it took for them to even meet. Charlie has worked hard to rid them of their powers, and Babe is busy taking action against Tony. Maybe honesty and trust are all that stand in the way of them getting their happily ever after...

Until then, all they have is last night's dream, because as it turns out Charlie shared Babe's vivid memory. Babe's powers were the last to get exorcised and perhaps it created a momentary psychic bond between them. You never know with these omegaverse x-men.

What follows is the moment we've all been waiting for: the grand finale. The Ides of... whatever month this is but I hope Khun Tony gets stabbed to death by all of his adopted children. Et tu Way!

Meanwhile, Khun Tony is throwing a party. And by party I mean a human trafficking auction where he sells off some of his beloved children to fellow rich people. Charming. Why bother with a plan at all? Why not set everything on fire?

Right, because Pete really, really wants everyone to see his presentation.

Currently, Babe is disguising himself as a waiter. We all know waiting (and retail) staff are invisible to most people so no one recognises him except for one lone guard who's so smitten that he asks Babe out on a date.

Pete is also in disguise while Way pretends to be a good son and accompanies Tony for some good old-fashioned evil mingling. Their plan is to disrupt the auction and reveal all of Tony's illegal machinations.

This is a very questionable idea because I don't know about you but if I was at an auction trying to buy a child I'd probably not care if the auctioneer was evil. I'd probably ask for a slice of the evil pie.

Just as Babe is about to set their plan in motion, he's interrupted by Kenta. Uh-oh.

But, much like Pete and Way, Kenta too has had enough of Tony and was just waiting for the perfect moment to act. He assures Babe that he won't interfere. In fact, it was him who let Way into Tony's evil room of plotting to gather all of the incriminating info on him. Et tu Kenta!

"About helping you guys, this is a personal matter. [...] I have a brain, I can think for myself, and I know what to do. [...] But not everyone has many choices. Especially me. I can't make the same choice as you. [...] So, this is the best I can do. [...] You can handle the rest yourself, right?"

And so, Kenta leaves this story (presumably with some of Tony's financial assets) never to be seen again. What a shame. Kim's existence in the series will hopefully fix this.

Meanwhile, the auction is about to begin. I mean, the... uh, fundraising for poor, underprivileged children who also happen to have powers. Everyone's delighted - except for the poor kids who are led on stage one by one and then sold off like priced cattle. The thought alone makes Babe sick. Would the same have happened to him if he hadn't run away that day (no Babe, I thought we had established that you'd have been part of the breeding program...)?

And now, after having watched episode 5 of the tv series, I wonder if this is where the plot will lead us in lieu of the omegaverse plot. Tony mentioned an auction. I wonder if his goal is to sell Babe (and any other of his adopted children) for profit.

Anyway.

Babe's thoughts are cut short by a guard patrolling in front of Pete and his hiding place. Babe decides to check things out but he's quickly overwhelmed by the much stronger guard. He starts choking Babe and things almost go from bad to worse until someone unexpected comes to Babe's rescue.

That someone is Charlie - and there's a short, sweet and intense reunion between them that proves all of his fears wrong:

"I'm sorry." "It's okay," Babe let go of the hug and immediately responded without stopping for a second, his palms framed the other man's cheeks, before kissing his entire face: his forehead, nose, cheeks and lips. "It's okay, Charlie. Really, it's okay." The beautiful alpha hugged the tall young man again while repeating "It's okay" over and over again until the listener felt guilty.

Well, that was easy. But more on that later.

Charlie, Babe and Pete quickly catch up and then join forces. Pete is amazed that Charlie gave up his powers to escape Tony's clutches, going so far as to even fake his death to protect his loved ones. He's also amazed that he'd even dare come here - powerless and without a nifty presentation.

(And also, how does this whole having no powers thing even work? Did Reval - and in turn Charlie when he stole Babe's powers - rewrite Charlie's whole dna? Because how else would that even affect Tony's evil breeding program? And why am I so concerned about the specifics of omegaverse shenanigans? For all I know none of these characters even know or care about dna.)

It's quickly decided - probably due to Charlie's lack of nifty presentations - that they'll continue following Pete's plan. But wait, where is Jeff? There's no way he'd have let Charlie come here on his own!

Back at the auction, another child is led onto the stage to be sold. It's none other than Jeff. The auction grinds to a halt while Tony attempts to save face. This leaves Jeff with enough time to introduce himself and his powers. His name is Jeff, he's a 20-year-old omega and he can see the future.

"In no more than ten minutes, everyone in this room will have the same future." Jeff looked around the room with a bright smile before saying his next sentence which made the entire meeting room fall silent. "That is, death." The little Omega smiled broadly as if his own prediction was very pleasant.

I love Jeff so much. Make them suffer!

He then adds that there's a bomb hidden in the building and it will go off if even one person attempts to leave. Who even needs nifty presentations when you've got... Oracle Omega (no seriously, this is what the novel - or rather, the machine translation - calls him. Maybe it's his code name).

Everyone is then forced to watch Pete's presentation. I really, really hope it looks something like this:

I'm not joking, it has talking cartoon dogs. Interactive talking cartoon dogs overlaid with incriminating voice files of Tony.

Turns out Tony's guests are okay with human trafficking and buying children but they draw the line at violence and murder embezzlement. Everyone is all shocked and clutching their pearls and secretly very glad that their names don't come up in this weird cartoon dog powerpoint presentation.

Tony's acting all cool until the cartoon dogs reveal that this presentation is broadcast live and for everyone to see - this includes live footage of the auction.

But it's never too late to fix your past mistakes so Tony draws his gun on Jeff because he would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for you meddling kids!

Luckily, Way quickly intervenes before Tony can fire his gun, but even though Tony's many guards are somewhat suspicious of a little guy with a bomb and someone who hypnotises people for a living, they're quickly overpowered. In the control room above, Charlie, Babe and Pete don't fare much better.

Everything seems lost until there's a loud crash.

It's Alan in a black supercar and he's crashed through the doors leading to the auction hall.

They're on the second floor (it is sadly later revealed that Alan didn't drive up the stairs - the car was already parked in front of the doors because this is what rich people do to impress other rich people, I guess).

But Alan isn't alone. He's brought several other racers, among them Six (Babe's old rival who was probably turned into either Kim or Winner in the series). Six is a powerful alpha who can cause mass hallucinations that are so strong that they're banned by law.

Yeah.

Tony's guards are going down!

Meanwhile, Tony has had enough. He locks down the whole mansion so no one can escape. Charlie, Babe and Pete make their way up to the roof because there might be a skylight without security doors. They have guns, the many guards have guns, but it's okay because this is where Pete enigma powers come in.

You see, Pete has super control over his whole body, meaning that he never misses a shot.

I guess this explains this bit in the series (except for the part where the arrows are all over the place). But also congrats to Way for his future boyfriend with amazing body control.

While Pete is busy being awesome, Charlie and Babe lament the fact that they're probably going to die here when there's so much sex still to be had. :((((

Things are looking dire indeed. They're surrounded and out of bullets. One of the guards takes aim at Babe but before the bullet can hit him Charlie intervenes by jumping into its path. Miraculously, he's okay.

But that's because a few steps away Way has also jumped into the bullet's path and it's hit him instead. Babe is in shock. He hates Way for what he's done but in a way he's still his best friend. While Alan unsuccessfully tries to stop the bleeding Babe comes closer:

"Babe…" Way's dry voice called out his name as soon as he knelt beside him. "This is all I can do." Babe was silent, he just stared at his former best friend's face, tears flowing silently, without him even realizing it. "I know whatever price I pay, it probably won't be enough. But this is all I can do." Way's voice is very soft, as light as his breath. "…. I'm sorry for being a friend like this.."

And then he dies. Babe is inconsolable, sobbing and tightly hugging Way's lifeless body. He's still angry with Way, and he'll never forgive him for what he's done, but he didn't want him to die.

They better change this whole part in the series or I'll riot. I watched Nut Supanut die once in Something in my Room and I still haven't recovered.

Their victory is overshadowed by Way's death. Tony is apprehended alive and taken into custody. His evil alpha trafficking and breeding program is no more.

A little while later, Charlie finds Babe sitting alone in the mansion's garden. They talk, and Charlie apologises once more for letting Babe believe that he was dead. If Babe wants him to, he will disappear from his life and even stop racing cars so that they'll never have to meet again. This is all he can do: give Babe the freedom to decide for himself. But Babe only asks him if he truly wants to leave, and of course Charlie doesn't. And that's that. Babe has made his choice. He has decided long ago that he wants Charlie in his life.

Their long-lasting painful lives ended in the garden of the mansion that raised them to grow up like caged animals, allowing them to meet and fall in love. Today, everything has ended. It ended with the falling rain washing away their blood stains, sweat and tears, as well as a sweet kiss that he had been thinking about for a long time, making him feel able to stand in the rain without feeling afraid.

Oh, the rain allegory (and also oh, the bad machine translation)!

The novel ends quietly with Way's funeral, eerily similar to Charlie's fake funeral a few weeks prior. It's attended by the same handful of people. Even the clothes they wear are the same (which is convenient, I guess, but also... ouch!). Despite his many wrongdoings, people loved Way - and this includes Babe. And as it turns out, it was Way who got rid of whoever caused Babe's racing accident. He never told anyone about it.

Babe stays behind with Charlie and mourns his friend. He recognises that his feelings of friendship and betrayal are both valid and important (and later on it's established that Babe actively works on processing his traumatic experiences with the help of mediaction and therapy - and you know, I really appreciate the novel's nuanced approach to a character's mental health. It's an incredibly rare thing to see in Thai BL and an even rarer thing in most kinky stories). He won't forgive Way but...

"In the next life, please be kind to me. Don't deceive me again [...} Be a good friend, idiot!"

Which is as much of a peace-offering as anyone can hope for - wishing to meet each other again in the next life under better circumstances. Negl, I teared up because it's such a bittersweet thing to say. 😭

Meanwhile, Alan and Jeff have gone ahead and are talking in the car. Their ending is vaguely romantic (with their growing relationship hopefully developing further in the bonus chapters) but for now, all Alan asks of Jeff is to accept him in his heart as his brother. Please, don't phi nong me, novel!

And because this is Pit Babe the novel, we get one last drawn out sex scene that consists of Charlie trying to cheer Babe up by suggesting a game of naughty cards. A bit like strip uno, I guess. Naturally, Babe wins, but Charlie is allowed to leave his glasses on - and wear nothing but an apron while he gives Babe the bestest and longest and absolutely mindblowing (yes, there's a lot of blowing too) dicking of his life. Babe, my man, enjoy. You truly deserve it.

The End.

No wait, the novel actually ends with Babe and Charlie racing again for this year's title of King of the Hollow. Charlie is very skilled now, and it's very close but I'm relieved to say that Babe's experience and talent isn't all for nothing and OF COURSE HE FUCKING WINS.

The End.

Hold on, wait. I forgot about the part where Charlie takes Babe to see Reval - his real father. And of course Babe forgives him and it's all very sweet and they live happily ever after.

THE END. For real this time. Except for the bonus chapters. And unless the mpreg happens there (I mean, Jeff and North are technically available...), that's it for the omegaverse shenanigans.

When I first started writing these commentary posts I never thought they'd become so detailed and long - or that people would actually be interested in reading them. Thank you so much to everyone who left replies and tags. Sharing the insanity and reading everyone's reactions was honestly the best part of it all. May Pit Babe the series treat us kindly, and may none of us ever pop up in a cartoon dog powerpoint presentation. 🙏

[spdrvyn]

miguel o’hara + reader w/ freckles

drabble. fluff. comfort. projecting so hard in this right now because i have freckles, also i'm on break so i will try to be more active here. enjoy the piece as per usual! :3c dividers are by @/cafekitsune

it's a lazy day for the both of you.

your boss had called you this morning just as you were about to leave for work that a piece of the roof fell off and the office had to close for a little while, you ended that call with a big smile as you immediately went to lie down and catch up on all of that sleep you've been missing.

eventually, you gained the energy go change into some proper clothes. nothing more than a cringy tee with a pun about science on it, judging from how baggy it was, it was probably miguel's but you could care less. he could care less too.

you craned your head up when you saw miguel walk his way through the door this time as opposed to his entrances through the window, that could mean he got kicked out for overworking again and was forced to retreat back to base camp (you and your shared flat).

no words are shared as both of you clung to each other like two strips of double sided tape stuck together, he stayed by your side with his head lolled against your chest. his eyes continued to flutter in their struggle to stay awake, you also found it hard throughout the day to simply move an inch but as you watched miguel in his fight for consciousness, each second of eye strain was worth it.

miguel's eyes trailed up to the smallest details on your face, the softness of your jaw, the carefully placed birthmarks by god, and the–

hold the phone.

you have freckles?

all this time that miguel has found himself catching glances, staring at you from afar, and zooming in on pictures of you. all this time and he hasn't noticed that you had freckles, it pained him. he has failed as a boyfriend, he has enhanced eye sight for god's sake!

miguel is ressurected as he held himself up on his elbows, dark eyes locking on to the spots dotted on your face. your eyes widen, shoulders tensed as you tried to piece together what exactly he was looking at. it made you feel exposed, maybe you've caught miguel admiring you more than you'd like to admit but he's never gone basically centimeters away from your face and flat out stared.

"you have... spots." he murmured, a large hand came up to cup your cheek and his thumb swiped over the marks. "i never even noticed."

you breathe a sigh of relief as you finally realized what caught his attention, your hands clasped over his wrist. it's a little cute to look at, like a kid finding an old toy at the bottom of the box.

your freckles weren't exactly natural, they were moreso caused by not wearing sunscreen when you should have. you didn't have the money (nor did you care enough) to get them removed, so they just stayed. you put on the tiniest bits of concealer to cover them and balance out your complexion, but it would be fair for miguel to have noticed. after all, you two only ever see the unfiltered versions of yourselves.

"spots?" you chuckled, "isn't that the name of a bad guy you caught a few months ago? should i be scared?"

miguel frowned, he didn't appreciate your comment. his grip on your cheeks tightened slightly and he brought your face closer, what more could he possibly inspect?

"i– i just forget to wear sunscreen sometimes," is your choked out explanation. god, miguel can actually be scary at times. the good kind of scary, that has a tingle up your spine, flesh burning red. "does it bother you?"

"no," he's quick to reply, you thought that with that he'd actually give you some distance, but it's miguel. he zeroed in and pressed a light kiss to one of the freckles right under your eye, he could definitely feel how embarrassingly warm you are. "these are the kind of spots i like. your quips bother me."

now both of you frowned, you crossed your arms between the very little space between both of your bodies. "you like my smart ass replies. you get to give me smart ass replies."

"maybe that's because i'm a smart ass."

"so you're saying i'm dumb? get off right now."

"hey, hey, hey- cariño, i was joking—"

[theunholyrogue]

under the mistletoe🎄

❤️bayverse! x GN reader💚

still on my writing hiatus, but i thought i would pop in for a quick, short christmas post with my favorite boys

tw: v mild cursing, none— all fluffy! ☁️

merry christmas, and happy holidays! <3

🎄💙Leonardo💙🎄

Oh, how Leonardo loved watching the excitement in your body language and emotions after he had agreed to helping you set up your christmas decorations around your home.

He didn’t mind doing anything for you, you were his partner after all and you definitely put up with a lot from him and his brothers— this was the utter least he could do for you.

So, while sipping on homemade hot chocolate, you and Leo spent the cold day together setting up your christmas tree, stringing the lights around it, and hanging ornaments off of the dark green branches.

You didn’t have many ornaments, as you had rather collect the cooler, more personal ornaments such as a hallmark oogey boogey from ‘the nightmare before christmas’ or a book to describe your various hobbies, over the glass or plastic bulbs that were really only used for the aesthetic…

unless the glass/plastic bulbs are your thing, then go off babe~

Both you and Leonardo enjoyed the quiet time off the moment, listening to the low sounds of christmas music or whatever you would rather play in the background on your TV.

“Thank you for helping me, Leo,” You speak as the two of you hang some garland over the top of your fireplace, followed by two stockings— one for you and one for Leonardo.

“Of course, love,” He responded, a warm and endearing smile on his features as you two finish and meet in the middle of your living room.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, around his shell as best you could as he returned the gesture.

“There is something that’s missing,” Leonardo muttered, causing you to look up at him.

“What?”

In an instant, you spot the mistletoe bundle above both of your heads, trying to figure out how Leonardo pinned it up there without you realizing.

Of course, the answer was that he was a ninja.

Without giving enough time to react, Leonardo tightened his hugging grip with one arm as the other slide to your neck, his hand coddling the back of your head as he pulled you into a longing kiss.

“A mistletoe kiss,” he states as the two of you pull away. “Merry Christmas, my dearest.”

“I don’t think I can love you anymore than I do.”

🎄💜Donatello💜🎄

The turtle genius had been hearing nonstop about Christmas lights from you, April, and Casey— about wanting to visit the biggest Christmas light display and drive-thru around their area.

Annnnd since April is a reporter, she and Casey had the benefit of going in before they opened to the public one night while April ran a story on the on the festive and flashy display.

Leaving you all alone.

Now— Donatello had never been one to celebrate Christmas, the whole ordeal stemmed from something that went against the science that he could prove, yet, after the two of you started dating, he most definitely put in a lot more effort for minor things like holidays and such just to make you happy.

So, since the turtle couldn’t bring you to the lights himself, why not bring the lights to you?

Thus, he banned you from the lair for roughly a week as he put his plan into action. He spent a lot of money for April to buy lights, while he would tinker and toy with the rest, ultimately creating an entire display of assorted lights that he and another could walk through.

And when it was time, he brought you back to the lair with a blindfold over your eyes.

“This is kinky,” you tease.

“Stop it.” Donatello replied, guiding you to the entrance of the lair before removing the blindfold.

You paused in awe, seeing the array of lights that was carefully manipulated into different christmas objected and scenes.

Candy canes, Santa, his reindeer, gingerbread houses, etc…

“Oh my… did you do all of this for me?” You asked softly, gazing up at Donatello, who watched you with a faint smile.

“Of course I did, you deserve it.”

You couldn’t help but hug him for a moment before the two of you walked through his creation.

Eventually, he led you through a multicolored tunnel that ended with an tinsel arch, white lights strung through it to resemble snowflakes. In the very middle, hanging off of the arch was a mistletoe.

Of course Donatello ended the walk with you both underneath it, and in the moment, he swept you off of your feet and bent forward over you, pressing his lips to yours.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

🎄❤️Raphael❤️🎄

“Sorry we had to wait for everyone to clear outta here,” Raphael murmured, slipping around on the ice of the ice hockey rink that doubled as a ice skating rink in the winter time.

You had been talking about wanting to go ice skating, whether you were good at it or not, yet you had struggled to find the time to go by yourself… or at all— period.

So, since Raphael “knows a guy who knows a guy”… Casey Jones… he decided to ask for a favor from the male in exchange for some free pizza.

“Raph, this is so much better than being around others! We’re all alone, I’m with my favorite person, this seriously couldn’t get any better!” You exclaimed as you slid along the ice in your skates, remaining close to Raphael.

Raphael smirked as you proclaimed your total excitement for the night activity, making him feel better about, well, the situation at hand. He always felt bad when he couldn’t take you out in public with others around, yet you always found a way to reassure him that it was always okay with you.

So, he continued to try and pick up the simplest of moves— skating forward, in the ice skates that Donatello had made specifically for him.

“Dang, I feel real bad about calling myself a ninja and not being able to do this,” he grumbled, though you didn’t mind reaching out and guiding him along.

“It takes time to learn, just like how you had to practice ninjitsu to be good at it. Right?” You asked with a smile.

“Yeah… and I’m damn good at it,” he grins.

“You sure are, love.”

Slowly, but surely, Raphael continued to pick up on the way of ice skating, being able to move forward and slightly be able to spin around in a circle.

Finally, as you two were doing one more lap around the rink, Raphael looked over at you.

“You know how ya’ said this night couldn’t get better?”

You paused, watching him as he maneuvered back in front of you.

“Yeaaah?”

He pulled out a small mistletoe bushel from his pocket, holding it over both of your heads while moving close. He leaned down in your direction and smiled.

“Merry Christmas, hot stuff,” he grinned before pressing his lips against yours, both lingering for an extra moment before pulling away.

“Couldn’t get better than that.” You grinned, pulling him back into a greedy kiss, causing the two of you to fall onto the ice and proceed to laugh it off.

🎄🧡Michelangelo🧡🎄

The turtles had been planning this holiday party for weeks, now that they had a collective group of people that they now considered apart of the family and wanted to spend part of their holiday season with.

Making the most out of it, you had decided to spend the late morning and midday to help your turtle partner in cooking delicious sweets while the others set up for the party.

Plenty of giggles and goofing around erupted between you and Michelangelo as you two measured ingredients, throwing some of the flour at your partner with the turtle retaliating against you by smacking a palm-full of whipped cream into your face.

You also couldn’t resist taking your finger and dragging it across the surface of the cake bowl, licking the ingredients off while earning a whine from Mikey.

“Oh, no fair! I was gonna do that!”

“Guess you were a little too slow then, huh?”

He simply rolled his eyes with a cheeky grin, catching you off guard with a quick cheeky kiss and quickly copying your actions with the remainder of the leftover batter. He pulled his finger out, creating a loud ‘pop’ sound with his mouth as you narrow your eyes.

“Oop! Guess you were a little too slow, sweet cheeks.”

“You are a total asshole for that,” you pouted, sticking the empty bowl into the sink to wash, along with the rest of the dirty dishes.

As you two cleaned up the disaster in the kitchen and laid the finished desserts of cookies, brownies, fudge, and whatever else came to mind, out onto the bar— you started to plate the desserts onto Christmas themed plates rather than leaving them on the pans.

The boys had finished setting up for the party, leaving the rest of the job for you and Mikey to bring the plates of sweets out and settling them up on a table in the main area where the party would be, alongside the drinks and small finger foods that Casey and April had brought.

One by one, you brought the dessert to the entrance separating the kitchen and the living space, where Michelangelo would meet you and take the plate, moving to the table and setting it down— until it came down to the last dessert.

As you walked to the entrance, Mikey swiftly took the plate from your hands and moved it to one hand, snaking the other around your waist and pulling you close to him.

Without so much as a warning, the orange clad turtle pressed his lips against yours in a short yet passionate kiss before pulling away, leaving you momentarily dazed. From there, he grinned and winked at you.

“Merry Christmas, sexy.” He states before walking back to the food table, leaving you there to stare up at the mistletoe berry and leaf that hung in the doorway above your head.

“That was pretty smooth…” You mutter with a blushing smile.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Upon Your Birthday, I Shall Name A Nebula After You

-loud crying in the background- MY FELLOW GEMINI AAAAAA

Rated: Mature: Warning: it feelsy soft with spoilers of his birthday letter

For all the times you have been intimate with Frederick Kreiburg, he never took his clothes off. You noticed this after the fifth time, alone in his room, you had tried to reach for his clothes thinking the privacy of the bedroom was what he needed, but he stopped you. You never saw him look so scared, an expression he had tried to make an excuse for… Apologizing for ruining the mood, offering to satisfy you, but you were worried. Worried you crossed a line by mistake.

A worry that grew as he had not spoken to you in weeks.

You had hoped giving him space would help, yet, you fear he misunderstood your intentions and believe you are upset with him. He has not been free long enough for you to speak with him as his schedule has been back-to-back matches with every spare moment to rest. You are still determining how to approach him, nervous the more time passes the more likely he will believe you are upset with him.

Then a letter is slipped under your door, a small envelope, a request to see you from Frederick. The penmanship is elegant but you can tell by the line strokes and ink spots from pressing the quill on the paper for too long, the man was nervous writing this-- Seems detective novels are not all full of bullshit!

Later that evening, when the manor has a moment of peace, you enter the room after a single knock and enter as the door is left unlocked for you to slip inside.

“Lock the door then please stand here.” Pointing at a spot in front of him. The light source in the room is a few candles and the waning moon's light. Following his instruction, you can see he looks both tired and with a lot on his mind.

Frederick stands still he does not look at you as he apologizes for his absence… And for what happened prior.

He has not shown anyone this, the only ones who know are his family.

You are confused before shifting to a bit of shock; your eyes widen as he removes his gloves, and politely places them on the bed.

Is there something on his hands?

Each article of clothing is removed with great care, stalling as he folds his coattail jacket and his ascot tie cravat. The hesitation as he touches the buttons of his dress shirt, you fear he is pushing himself.

He starts after taking in a breath of air.

Then the shirt falls on the bed, turning his back to you, a slight tremble of his fragile form. The shadows of the candle highlight the marks on his flesh, the swirls of what you know already could be deemed as cursed marks on Frederick's body. Though the path of logic and science is right there, doctors and scientists proving not everything in the world is magical and mysterious… There are still fools out there. People and their fears make false evidence appear real.

"Frederick?" He is silent as if waiting for something, something you can piece together to be some form of insult at him. You go quiet trying to think of what to ask, yet you blurt out the first words to come to mind. “You look beautiful.” Speaking to break the silence. Frederick turned partially around ready to explain himself. Those warm grey eyes look in awe at how you say those words. Your next words are, “Can I touch you?”

Frederick slowly nods before taking your hands into his hands and then placing them on his chest, blushing from the sensation of a lover's touch directly on his skin. Your hands wander, then you take his hand, bringing it to your lips.

Kissing his fingers, knuckles, and palm, showing the gentle love he needs.

“(Name).” You smile against his wrist as you leave the first of many hickeys on his wrist.

“Frederick,” Holding his face, “May I touch you further?”

“... Yes.”

“May I see you naked?”

He has plenty of sex, and has his cock used to gain favors and money, but never was he naked for it. You are the first to see this much of his skin, “I want to worship you.” Make it clear what you are going to do.

“Don’t,” Letting out a breath of anxiety, “I don’t need worship, your love is enough.” His eyes looking in yours which never fails to gaze upon him with love and happiness, “I can… Only undress this far.”

“I understand,” Kissing his nose, “We can do as much as you are comfortable with.”

You had him lay on his stomach as you climbed on top of him, lips kissing the discolored pigmented skin. Your hand rubbed his sides as he trembled, you know he must be trying not to cry as you tell him how much you love him. How beautiful he is. How thankful you are for his trust.

The Composer does break into a voice-cracked laugh when you tell him these are like nebulae, you explain with your fingers tracing the skin and naming the nebulae you know from the top of your head. Of course, you explained what a nebula is to him with all the wonder in your voice.

“Only you would say something like that.” Turning his head to look at you, “Now can I turn around?” You move off of him as he turns around and sits up, “(Name),” Opening his leg for you to sit between, “Come here.” And you do. Frederick cups your face in the palm of his hands, angling your face as he kisses you.

[inthestarsme]

Astro Notes pt. 8

These are not my pictures: 1st by robbodarko on pinterest, 2nd by an anonymous creator on pinterest.

‼️Don't repost my Observations without consent and mentioning my page‼️

If you don't agree with my observations, please don't send any hate. They're only my personal observations that i'm posting just for fun. Especialy the specific ones can only apply to certain people. So don't take anything you read too seriously. It's not a science, just pop-astrology!😎

❗️DISCLAIMER: I'm going to be talking about a lot of dark stuff, so if you may be triggered or retraumstised by ANYTHING, please DO NOT read this one ❗️

So let's buckle up, this one is a little more deep and dark than usual 🖤

Scorpio MC: I promise i'm going to stop talking about this placement, but i just find it very interesting. Looking at Zendayas birth chart who has a Scorpio MC with Pluto in her 10th house conjunct that MC (which i have too, exept the conjunction part), she seems to always keep her life very private. And if she ever shows herself in public, it's always to make a power move or to promote something she has just worked on, which will make her more powerful. Or she only does it with intention and/or absolutely wonderfully. Also, one of her bigger roles, playing Rue in Euphoria, was a very controversial one dealing with a lot of heavy topics, but she did it so well and gracefully, that it gave her a lot of fame and she even got an emmy for her performance. And i feel like Zendaya is a very good example for how to go about with this placement. Be secretive with your life, and don't give people too much space to shit on you. If you do anything in your career or anything of yours is to be shown in public, only give and show your very best. People can get jealous, but they will know to appreciate your hard work. You may use your sexiness and seductiveness, your dark and controversial side but do it with a purpose and intention, and best do it in an artistic context and in a beautiful way.

Saturn in the 6th house: I see Saturn as something or an area where you feel trapped or just persecuted by something. Because the 6th house has a lot to do with health, you may struggle with health issues and feeling like they're trapping you or just feeling no way out of them. As the opposition here is the 12th house, the only way out may be through a lot of hospital visits and maybe even using spirituality to heal your body.

But because the 6th house can also be about your everyday life, resposibilities and routines, you may experience feeling trapped in this area in some way or form. It can be due to societal expectations, because of your kids and husband or the community you grew up in, who and which may make you feel as if you're either trapped in responsibilities you didn't choose or like the things you're doing on an everyday basis aren't really the things that make you happy or would've chosen if you knew better or could've chosen otherwise. I really don't think this necessarily has to do with the work you may choose to pursue as a career, but it can certainly influence how you do it and even if you pursue it, if your everyday life may be preoccupied with other things than work.

Neptune in Scorpio and 3rd house: There may be an issue with illusions and thus betrayal coming from your siblings regarding money, because of wanting to keep certain secrets or for gaining some sort of power in general or specificaly over you. Or you may put illusions on your siblings to try to keep them from seeing certain secrets you keep or know. Of course this can still play out differantly, so please don't get scared, but if you are suspecting anything like this, take it as a hint to maybe be more careful.

Taurus MC: I've noticed this placement having to do with a career in the movie/ film industry. It can be as an actor, director, producer or whatever you may prefer doing. You may focus a lot on the aesthetic part of this artform. The placement of your venus may say a lot about in which way specificaly you may be involved in this industry. Venus in the first house, especialy with virgo, may be more into directing as the self is more in focus and you need to be able to organize people with confidence. Venus in the 5th house may be more into acting, especialy with Venus in Gemini or Cancer. Venus in the 6th house may be more into being a producer, Venus in the 3rd maybe a writer. If this is something you are interested in pursuing and you have this placement, i would recommend you to look more deeply into this.

Water moons: Y'all are about feeling, but every water sign focuses on a different kind of feeling. If well developed i would say: Cancer feels a lot, specificaly for other people and can be very nurturing and empathetic. Scorpio moon likes to go into deep and dark placed and also loves the sexual part of feeling. Pisces moon may be into connecting spiritually through your emotions, being able to perceive things that are outside of the physical or can't be physicaly perceived through your emotions (which could also be collective patterns, etc.).

Mercury conjunct Uranus: THE placement for someone with a high IQ and a lot of talent for things that need a lot of mental agility and being able to think outside the box. This can make you an amazing engineer and great at anything having to do with technology, especialy if it is placed in the 2nd, 6th or 10th house.

North Node in the 8th house: You may go from earning money on your own two feet to inheriting a lot of money or gaining a lot of money through other people, for example through divorce and need to learn to accept that sometimes that is also fine. It may be hard for you to accept this money as you may feel as if you didn't earn it and as such it isn't worth the same. And you aren't wrong, it's different to earn your own money, but you need to find a balance: sometimes inherited money was something your ancestors fought hard for so you wouldn't have to. In thus, it may be only in respect to them to treat it as earned and respectable money. And sometimes we're just lucky in life, and that's fine too. You can enjoy that luck and still be a responsable, "on your own two feet" kind of person. Or you can for example also donate some money or even open your own charity to help other people.

Libra moons: You may feel a sense of security through your interpersonal relationships. It can be your romantic relationships but also your friendships. You need these connections to feel emotionaly stable.

Mars in the 7th house: TW: Fighting and Abuse! I hate to admit this because it is something i need to work on, but i tend to fight a lot in relationships instead of just normaly addressing issues or breaking up if i just don't feel satisfied. I of course never get physical because i'm not that kind of person, but i feel like this could defenately indicate that. And honestly, i secretly like the drama of it, because it brings a kind of passion into the relationship. This has probably to do with some kind of childhood trauma of me thinking fighting is a form of love. But sadly, it also fits this placement, as Mars is Aggression. Maybe someone can relate, and if you do: we understand each other but i also need to tell you that we both need to work on this. There are other ways of creating passion in a relationship, and even though fighting can be normal and healthy, fighting every time you have an issue isn't really ideal. And if you have gotten physical in a relationship before: yes that's shitty and you should bear the concequences for it. But i will not just shame you for it, because i want you to look at the issue so you can heal and learn. That's the only way we as humans can evolve. So please: learn to take accountability so you can get better. Also: Maybe you should try to learn how you can create passion and excitement in your relationships without having to fight or anything like that.

I hope you liked it! Yes, i'm okay. I just love deep topics, and oftentimes they also tend to be of darker nature. Just a Scorpio Mercury at it's best. Lot's of love and till next time: stay safe!

[deirdreskye]

Commercial I would produce as an advertising executive:

We are treated to a succession of interviews with several different billionaires concerning their plans for the future.

"Humanity's destiny is in the stars," says the cool, young social media entrepreneur. "My new company will build a Mars colony in the next twenty years, and from there? The galaxy. The universe!"

"My next project is to render the human body obsolete," says the rideshare app CEO. "The mind-machine interface is no longer science fiction, it's reality. Soon, we will upload our minds to the cloud and live in virtual reality. Or as I call it, paradise!"

"We have forgotten God, and the traditional family values He has set out for us," says the aging, old-money oil man. "But my political contributions and policy think tanks will bring about an end to this age of sin and decadence!"

"Climate change is far from inevitable," says the real-estate mogul. "With my investments in green energy, we are only a technological breakthrough or two away from ending and reversing global climate change. As far as I'm concerned, the world has already been saved!"

Now we get to see how their plans turn out. A space ship drifts through oblivion and inside, all the lights are off. The social media entrepreneur is in his space suit, his lifeless eyes staring out into the void. It turns out his rocket ship was about as reliable as his electric cars.

Then we see the rideshare CEO. Or rather, his virtual avatar. He sits in the lotus position, meditating before a peaceful, pixelated field of grass. His eyes snap open. And then, he shrieks in agony. Back in the real world, his brain is in a jar, crisscrossed with wires and electrodes, suspended in fluid that is beginning to boil. The lab is on fire. Let's hope they fix this little glitch in the next patch.

The old-money oil man is long dead, of course, but his great-great-grandson lives on. We see him in the crumbling ruins of the Vatican, ritualistically sacrificing a lamb on a great pyre before the shit-smeared remains of the Pope's golden throne to the cheers of his tribe. An orgy breaks out to celebrate the occasion and we see the oil billionaire's progeny swallow a mouthful of the moon priestess' urine. "Thank you, daddy," he says, wiping his mouth. Now that's what I call "family values".

Finally, we see a field of shattered solar panels beneath a red sun, like so many broken windows in the sand in every direction as far as the eye can see. This place is not a place of honor. No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here. What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us.

Sometimes, things just don't go the way you planned. When that happens, State Farm Insurance has you covered.

[purdledooturt]

WIP Wedneday

I got tagged again, and y'all... you may not know this but I basically bleed WIPs. I have nothing but WIPs. Sometimes they never become anything, and WIP Wednesdays are the only way they see the world at all. Thank you @cinnamontails-ff for freeing one of these boys from the jail.

In celebration of the announcement of the continuation of An Empirical Science, I would also like to contribute to the Holy Rolan Empire.

The door clicked closed – then, it clicked again. Locked.

“Drop the glamour, please,” Rolan all but growled, “before I do it for you.”

Tav gasped at the commanding tone, her heart seized by cold tendrils in confusion. Immediately, she did as he had asked, dropping the disguise with an exhale. “Rolan!” Her hand flew to her chest, trying to still her pounding heart. “It’s just me!”

“Tav!” Rolan gasped back, his expression going from dark and fierce and angry to something more akin to surprise and confusion and… suspicion? With one final once-over the expression melted into something more sheepish, as his shoulders relaxed with a sigh. “I’m sorry about that. You… you had triggered some alarms, so I…” He ran a hand through his hair, letting loose a few tendrils from his normally immaculately styled half-up ‘do. “It’s good to see you, though.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, pursing her lips together as she felt her face burn red out of embarrassment. Of course they would have security measures for disguises and seemings – she didn’t even think about it. “That was wholly my fault.”

To try and soothe the awkward air, Tav went for the first gesture she could think of: a friendly hug. Oddly, Rolan accepted – in fact, he damn near melted into it. She enjoyed his warmer body temperature, momentarily reminded of the piggy-back rides Karlach used to give her when they were racing Lae’zel. She rested her chin on his shoulder. “It’s good to see you, too.”

He pulled away from the embrace, examining her once again. “My reaction was completely unwarranted. I apologise, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just thought you… were someone else. Why were you in a disguise anyway?”

She looked down at her bag of purchases and sheepishly held them up to call his attention to them. Curiously, he peered in. “Last time I came by, Lia wouldn’t let me pay, so…”

He laughed. “You silly girl,” he said fondly, shaking his head. He gestured towards a well-lit seating area by the large floor-to-ceiling window. “Why don’t you take a seat over by the window? Let me at least get you a drink, and I’ll let Cal and Lia know you’re here so they can say hello.”

Tav marvelled at the room Rolan had claimed as his office – the walls were covered in books, from floor to ceiling, but unlike Lorroakan’s old set up it was much more organised and welcoming. Rolan had his books in shelves of polished cherry wood – she found that the desk, chairs, his drinks cabinet, and the furniture at his seating area matched, giving the room an elevated, moody, professional air. It was luxurious and neat – it was just very him.

“ I’d love a juice of some kind,” she called out over her shoulder as she settled down on the plush seat of one of the armchairs. “This place is beautiful, Rolan - you’ve outdone yourself!”

“I found the difficulty of furnishing a space is greatly made easy by having lots of money,” he said in his normal, sardonic, Rolan way, though there was markedly no bite in his tone. “I do hope this juice would do.” 

She’d turned to find him walking towards her with two glasses of wine and she laughed, leaning forward in her seat to reach for one. “That counts,” she joked, as she watched him take the other armchair across from her. She took a sip of the wine – chilled and sweet. 

Before he leaned back he reached into his pocket, pulling out a pouch which he’d tossed her way. It landed on her lap with a light jingle that betrayed its contents. “Say nothing,” he said, pre-empting her protest with a raised hand, “that should be exactly what you paid, and not a gold more.”

“One of the scrolls was on sale,” she mentioned – concern about being credited more than what actually paid oddly the first thing in her mind.

The second, she found, was amazement – the idea of Rolan just… casually calculating the cost of her purchases, just from that brief glance into her bag, just to refund her? Well, she knew he was a genius, but that was as impressive as Astarion’s one-handed lockpicking trick – it was another level entirely. “Rolan, really –”

He finally settled down in the armchair, waving her concerns away. “I’ve accounted for that, don’t worry,” he said, “just to keep the books clean for Bex.”

Ooh - why did he react so poorly? Who was he expecting? 👀

I am super excited about this idea so I am definitely motivated to keep working on it - I just want to have it all planned out before I commit (sorry). I have a prologue whipped up that explains the whole premise from the get go, but there's a whole lot of middle to work with.

[octuscle]

Hey Cronivac Support,

I dont trust myself with the settings so i am asking you. I am Half German and half Moroccan, and I look German af. Brown hair, brown eyes, big smile and a really white skin. I am thinking what would happen if my appearance were based on my Moroccan genes.

Can you help me out?

Brother, chill out! Have a shisha. Just ignore that there's German shit in your body. Your dick is circumcised. You pray at least once or twice a day. Friday you also go to the mosque… It doesn't matter if there are still German genes in you.

Thursday morning. You will survive the last school year at the Gymnasium. What comes after that, you don't know yet. Something with languages might make sense. Your mother tongues are Arabic, German and French. And you are actually quite good in English and Spanish at school. But you also enjoy science. First lesson today is chemistry. Stoichiometry. Actually very interesting. But somehow you have more and more problems to understand your teacher. When he approaches you, you start to stammer. You can't think of the right words. "Youssef, you are welcome to answer in English, if that is easier for you." You sigh in relief. German is really a difficult language. And even though you have a German grandmother, German was never spoken much at home….

During the break, you hang out with your brothers. Talk about soccer, cars, the usual stuff. Smoke an e-cigarette to go with it. And you make an appointment for the afternoon at the gym. Then it's off to the workshop at the vocational school. Metalwork. Hey, you're not training to be a car mechanic so you can mill toys out of metal plates. You want to become a car tuner. And create really hot cars. Your vocational school teacher is from Syria. Fled a few years ago. He speaks much better German than you do. You've only been in Europe for two years. Your mother had the French and the Moroccan passport, so you could immigrate relatively easily. But you didn't understand why you had to move to Germany. Some of your pals now live in Marseille. You would have found that cool, too… But Stuttgart? Just because your father found a good job as an engineer here at Mercedes? Anyway, you're a fighter, you'll survive Swabia.

Lunch is at the snack bar of a former colleague of your father. He has saved up enough money on the assembly line for his own snack bar. And now he makes the best falaffels in town. On weekends, you help out a little. You can always use the extra money. And that way you also get the food cheaper. Since you've been in training, you no longer get pocket money from your parents. You are the eldest son, you now have to do your share to feed the family. And if you are the first to have a vocational qualification here, your chances of getting a permanent right to stay are also the best. If only it weren't for this terrible language…

Gym, auto repair shop, vocational school, Gym…. Your daily routine is somehow always the same. Your boss is also a Muslim, from Turkey, so you have tomorrow afternoon off to go to the mosque. But you also have to work on Saturday. But you are grateful that you have the job. And you can afford your car and the gym. It was not easy to come to Europe. It cost your parents almost all their savings. And now it's your damn duty to succeed and support your family. For that you learn to be a car mechanic, for that you sell falaffel on weekends. That's why you mop the gym floors and clean the toilets at night. You even study German for that. However, this has already brought you a few thousand followers. Your picture from the last workout has 800 likes after just half an hour. Let's see, maybe new opportunities to become rich and famous will develop. You have the right gene pool!

Pic of your latest workout found @tufas