#so Resources if anyone knows any would be really helpful <:]

[tcmmykinard]

so i really really hate asking this. and i've tried to avoid it, but every resource i've found in my town isn't able to help me and i'm really struggling. last week i received a bank statement saying i had -$150, and i've managed to get my balance back to a very low positive amount via help from my aunt, but she can't help me with all of my bills and, with my currently being in the process of filing for disability and only able to work a small amount of hours per week, i have reached a point where my saved funds have run out and i really have no idea where to go from here.

my brother currently lives with me and he's thankfully able to help me with some of the bills and part of our rent that's going to be coming in the next month, but he can't afford everything and i need to come up with about $600 to cover my expenses and rent per month.

i know that times are hard for a lot of people but i'm really not sure where else to turn to right now and i don't really have a lot to offer in return, but i've seen others offer gif commissions for small prices before and i would absolutely do so if anyone would be interested.

any help is truly very appreciated ❤❤

my ko-fi / paypal

[inawickedlittletown]

Just Let Me Adore You (BuckTommy) -2/6

Summary: What if…instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role.

Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2

Words: 3.4k

Notes: Title from Adore You by Harry Styles

Read on Ao3

Part One

-

Part Two

After growing up in Hershey, chocolate factories didn’t impress Buck much. He’d gone to the Hershey factory a few times on school trips and it’d been fun the first few times. Buck wasn’t even sure if it was his proximity and how often he had that chocolate as a kid, but he really wasn’t all that fond of it. He’d also had some great chocolate down in South America that made anything American pale in comparison. Not a lot of people knew it, but that was where cacao beans came from. It wasn’t Mexico either like some though, but Ecuador. 

The Seymour Chocolate Factory wasn’t even one he’d heard of and he kinda figured the chocolate probably wasn’t even that good, though they did leave with a small bag of chocolates by the end of the call. The call came about a guy that had fallen right into a chocolate vat while on a tour. 

As they were walking up, Buck heard Tommy say to Chim, “this would be the moment the Oompa Loompas give us a musical number.” 

Buck had no idea what he meant, but there was no time to ask for clarification. 

None of them had any idea how to get the guy out of the chocolate vat until, after a few failed attempts, Tommy pulled out his phone. They all eyed him. 

“What? A good Captain uses his resources. In this case, Bobby probably knows more about chocolate than anyone I know. Unless one of you has a better idea?” 

He wasn’t wrong. Bobby’s advice worked and between all of them they had the teacher out and then on a stretcher. 

Buck held himself back as they walked out and wound up next to Tommy. 

“That was a good call, getting Bobby on the phone.” 

Tommy smiled at him, crinkle eyed and gorgeous. Why was he so good looking? More importantly, why couldn’t Buck stop noticing? 

“It wasn’t like he was going to get flushed out or sucked up in a tube,” Tommy said. 

“What are you talking about?” Buck asked. 

“Willy Wonka,” Tommy said. 

“Who?” 

Tommy stopped and turned to look at him, making Buck almost run straight into him. 

“Okay, I’d understand if you never saw the original movie, but you have to have seen the remake? Johnny Depp was in it.”

“Uh, no,” Buck said. 

“It was a book,” Tommy said next. “Roald Dahl. Oompa Loompas? The kid that got turned into a blueberry?”

Buck stared at him blankly. 

“This means nothing to you, does it?” 

Buck shrugged. 

When they finally made it out, the ambulance had already left, Hen having gone with it. Chim and Eddie waited by the truck. 

“He’s never seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” Tommy announced as if Buck had committed some kind of crime.

Buck was used to missing movie references. Chim had long given up expecting Buck to get what he was talking about. Buck had always been that kid that couldn’t sit still long enough to get through a movie. That and all the time he spent outdoors doing daring thing after daring thing. Not to mention that his parents hadn’t been big on tv time. 

“He’s never seen much of anything,” Chim said with a laugh. “Him and his sister both. You’d think they were raised in some commune, but instead they’re just from Pennsylvania. I’ve taken on the task of introducing her to some classics.”

Buck shrugged his shoulders. “So, what exactly are these oompa lumps?” 

“Oompa Loompas,” Tommy said. “And you won’t understand until you watch it.” 

When he turned to Eddie, Eddie just shrugged at him, but he was grinning in that way that meant Eddie was too amused by the whole thing to help. Chim mimed zipping his lips closed. Looking at Tommy just got him a shake of his head. They also banned him from looking it up and on the way back to the station, Chim even grabbed his phone out of his hands even though Buck wasn’t going to google it. 

“I can just look it up when I get home,” Buck told them. 

“Or you could watch it,” Tommy suggested. 

“Only if you watch it with me,” Buck shot back, not sure exactly why he said it.  

Tommy didn’t respond at once and Buck felt like he’d gone and put his foot in it. But then, “Yeah. Alright. If only to make sure you actually watch it.”

—

He tried to invite Chim and Eddie over to watch Willy Wonka with him and Evan, but neither of them was interested or available even if they did want Tommy to let them know how it went. Hen had also turned him down in favor of a date night with her wife. So, Tommy was on his own. Due to Evan’s living situation, he also had to host. So at least they got to use his living room with his big screen tv and sound bar. 

Evan showed up with pizza, beer, and a veggie tray. He looked a little nervous even after Tommy invited him in. He watched as Evan took in Tommy’s house. It was very much a work in progress and Tommy had been doing most of the work on his own, so it was taking him a while to get through all of it. He expected it would be at least a year or two before he was finally satisfied by which point something would need to be repaired or repainted. 

“I like your place,” Evan said. 

“Really? It’s a bit of a half finished mess.” 

“But one you’re clearly putting time into,” Evan said. “And you’ll like the end result because of it.” 

“Well, lucky for us, one of the things I did finish is the living room.” 

It was the thing he’d tackled right after the kitchen — which technically wasn’t even done — , the upstairs bathroom, and parts of his bedroom. He needed a place to relax and wind down after long shifts. So, it had become a priority. Tommy led Evan there and cleared off the coffee table for the food. 

They sat down side by side on his couch and Tommy grabbed the remote. 

“It’s an older movie,” Tommy informed Evan. “I think you’ll like it, though.” 

Evan got into it pretty quickly. He did ask questions like about the bed the grandparents shared and Tommy mostly just told him to keep watching. Tommy was more of a romcom re-watcher, so he hadn’t actually watched Willy Wonka in years. Still, it was more fun to get Evan’s reaction to things. He’d forgotten how eccentric and weird the movie was and watching Evan react was everything. He expressed so much and laughed with so much surprise that it was absolutely endearing. 

“Those are the Oompa Loompas!” Evan exclaimed when he first saw them, giggling. “I get it now.” 

By the time they finished the movie, Evan had turned to him with a big grin. “Okay, that was actually pretty good, if a little odd. You said there was a remake?” 

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. It’s different, but still good. Wonka is completely different. The whole vibe is different.” 

“Might have to check that out,” Evan said with a smile. After a pause, “We could have another movie night?” 

“That’d be nice,” Tommy said and he meant it. 

Evan stayed a little bit after the movie, discussing the more ridiculous aspects of it. Then, somehow, talking about what Tommy would be tackling next on the house. 

“I did construction,” Evan offered. “I can help out if you ever need a second hand.” 

The thought of Evan working with him to put new flooring down or to sand and stain his cabinet doors was far more appealing than it should be, but he nodded and thought that he wouldn’t actually ask Evan for help. He might not survive it if he saw Evan dressed down and sweaty doing physical work in Tommy’s own home. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told him. 

—

Phone calls with Ali were getting exhausting. Buck had known what he was signing up for when he started dating her. She’d been clear from the start that she traveled for work and considering Buck’s own hours he’d figured it’d be fine. It was for a while. When she was in LA it was always fun. It was different from Abby and Buck liked that. Still, it always left him feeling a little left behind whenever she went off on yet another trip. She’d call, but it wasn’t the same as having her in LA. It wasn’t the same as being able to just see her whenever he wanted and that made it hard. 

When the time between calls started lengthening and lengthening, it almost even felt like he wasn’t dating anyone at all. One night they even had a discussion about opening up the relationship, making things more casual. Not that they were even necessarily talking about each other in any serious manner to begin with. 

“It’d be a lot easier on both of us,” Ali had explained. “You can be free to meet other people and so can I.” 

Buck hadn’t argued with her or known how to approach such a suggestion. Maybe he should have. It had just felt like if he didn’t she would just leave him once and for all. He tried his hardest not to think about her out there meeting other guys and maybe finding something better elsewhere. Someone better. For his part, he didn’t want to go back to who he used to be, so he didn’t even try to meet anyone else. 

It wasn’t until…but no, Tommy was a guy. Buck wasn’t interested in him like that. He wasn’t, right? He tried not to think about their movie night. How it had felt to sit on Tommy’s couch feeling his warmth next to him watching chocolate shenanigans and being perplexed by the whole thing and then also feeling Tommy’s gaze on him. There was just something about him. Buck felt like a magnet being pulled in by a force he couldn’t fight — one he didn’t want to fight. And that…that was scary. 

It was what found him knocking on Bobby’s apartment. 

“Hey,” Bobby said and motioned him in. “Want some water?” 

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” 

Bobby’s table was covered in wedding stuff. 

“Am I here at a bad time?” 

“Not at all. What’s going on, Buck?” 

Buck sank into the chair. “Bobby, you gotta come back to work.” 

Bobby chuckled as he set down a glass of water in front of Buck. “I’d love to. It’s not up to me.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do? Can’t we like write letters or something? Talk to them?” 

Bobby shook his head. “I don’t think that will help, Buck. What’s going on? I thought Tommy was doing well.” 

Buck kinda panicked then because Tommy was actually good at being Captain. He was different than Bobby, of course, but not in a way that made Buck or really anyone on the team want him gone. Tommy was knowledgeable and his own expectations about how the equipment was kept and how everything was stocked. While he’d hung back a bit the first few shifts, after that he’d jumped right into action with them, knew how to balance being in charge and telling them what to do with also being part of the solution. Buck was more than a little impressed with him. 

 “No, no, he’s doing fine. He’s a good Captain. He’s not you, but he’s good. Way he handled that bombing the other day? Or the chocolate factory…I can see why he was picked to hold your spot.” 

“I’m glad you like him,” Bobby said with a smile. “So, what’s happening, Buck?”

“Ali wants an open relationship,” Buck blurted out. 

He could tell that he’d shocked Bobby, at least for a moment. He recovered quickly. “Is that something you want?” 

“Not really,” Buck admitted. “Or…well, I don’t know. You know it’s not unusual or anything and it works for some people. You know, some people think that people aren’t meant to be monogamous. I don’t think I’m too bothered by it like as a concept.” 

“But this is not a concept. It’s your life, Buck.” 

“Yeah. I know,” Buck said and it was entirely the problem. 

Okay, so it wasn’t like Buck didn’t know that he had a bit of a slut era. His Buck 1.0 days…Buck wasn’t ashamed of them. And maybe in that time he’d explored a bit. One thing that Buck had realized was that he could never do threesomes. They were complicated and Buck was bad about sharing. Jealous, even. 

Bobby stared at him and Buck stared back. If he could just share all his thoughts with Bobby without saying them outloud, it would actually solve everything. Not even just his Ali problem, but maybe the near obsession he was having about Tommy. 

“I don’t think the problem is the open relationship,” Buck said.

He thought about Abby leaving and how she had tried to tell him in a roundabout way that what she wanted was to be free from everything and everything included him. He hadn’t been in love with her, though he had loved her. Cared about her. Convinced himself he would have a future with her. Had he realized what Abby meant by Eat, Pray, Love, Buck was actually sure that he would have been upset. Then again, it wouldn’t have been some dragged out thing. 

With Ali…shouldn’t he be more upset? Shouldn’t he be angry and maybe even jealous because why was she bringing it up if she didn’t already have someone that she wanted to sleep with? Was this her roundabout way of saying that they were over? 

“I don’t think I should be so…so okay with it. Or not care,” Buck said. 

“Oh,” Bobby said. 

Maybe it was that she was gone all the time. Gone so much that Buck hadn’t had any time to get attached. Not really. Not in the way that mattered. 

“Then maybe this would work for you, if you were looking for something different,” Bobby tried.  

Tommy came to mind right away. Except that…he couldn’t do that to someone, least of all Tommy. Buck groaned, as if that were even an option. 

“Buck?” 

“What if…” Buck trailed off. He couldn’t say it. “No. I guess I should talk to Ali.” 

“That’s probably a good start. You know, I don’t have to be your Captain for us to have these talks.” 

“No, but it would be less confusing if you were,” Buck muttered on his way out and didn’t know if Bobby had heard him. 

—

He could see the devastation on Eddie’s face. The woman — his wife — was on the stretcher and from what Chimney had whispered to him and Tommy’s own experience she wasn’t going to make it. She was already dead even if it hadn’t caught up to her. Eddie didn’t seem to know it fully yet, but he watched as Hen and Chim worked on her. 

“We need to intubate,” Hen said from inside the ambulance.

Chim stopped her. “No.” 

“No?” Hen asked. 

Chim shook his head and his eyes met Tommy’s, before looking to Eddie. 

“Chim’s right,” he said. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” 

He could tell that Eddie understood. He’d been an Army medic, had worked as a firefighter long enough that of course he knew. 

“If they intubate,” Tommy said, “that tube may never come out. Right now, before they do that, just take a minute.” 

“He knows,” Chim said. “Eddie, I’m sorry…this is…come on, you can say goodbye to her.” 

There was nothing that could have prepared any of them to arrive at a call to find that the one person seriously injured — other than the driver — was the wife of one of his firefighters. 

Tommy gripped Eddie’s shoulder, not that it made much difference and then he watched Eddie climb into the ambulance. Tommy closed the door behind them and then turned around. 

“Hey,” Evan said. “Is she—”

Tommy shook his head. Evan let out a sigh and he pressed his lips together. He took a quick glance around. The driver had been loaded into another ambulance. The minor injuries had already been looked at. Evan let out a sigh and his eyes met Tommy’s again, looking a bit glassy. 

“We should go to the hospital,” Tommy said. 

“Yeah.” 

He wasn’t surprised when Bobby arrived, was glad to see him so that some of this burden wasn’t on Tommy. It was more than a job, these people were Bobby’s family and they needed him. Tommy wasn’t that for them and he wasn’t all that close to Eddie to offer the comfort that Bobby could 

Eddie left with Bobby, clutching a bag with her belongings and looking lost in a way that Tommy had never experienced for himself. 

They didn’t talk about it on the way back to the station and he told dispatch to take them off line for the remaining time left on their shift because it was only a few hours and they were all more than a little distracted. The 118 could go back online once B-shift took over. He found Evan in front of the tv, staring out into nothing. 

“Did you know her well?” he asked. 

“No,” Evan said. “Met her a few times here or there, but that was all. Eddie really cared about her, they were kinda reconnecting, I guess. She hadn’t been a part of Eddie’s or Christopher’s life for a bit. Now…”

“That poor kid,” Tommy said because he hadn’t even thought about Eddie’s son. 

Eddie had probably told him by now, had torn his world apart. At least Christopher would have a good dad. He would have Eddie there to grieve with. He would have a dad that cared and that loved him even if he never saw his mother again. 

“Yeah,” Evan said. 

Life was like that, made up of tragedies. 

The next time he saw Eddie, it was a few days later. Tommy had arrived early to do some paperwork and the last person he expected to see was Eddie. He was in civilian clothes at least, not that Tommy would have allowed him to work even if he’d gotten the uniform on. 

“Hey, Eddie, how are you doing?” 

“Alright, everything considered. Funeral’s in a couple of days.” 

He still looked lost. Like he was still out on that street looking at Shannon. 

“Well the last thing I want you to worry about is work,” Tommy said. “Take all the time that you need.” 

“Even with all those bombs showing up?” Eddie asked and shook his head. “No. I think I’ll need to work. I’ll need to be back so I can stop thinking about it. Stop picturing it.” 

It felt like a mistake. He didn’t want to say no and he didn’t want to make things harder for Eddie, and yet in their line of work there was no room for distractions. Distractions led to mistakes and mistakes in their line of work could be life or death. 

“Look, that’s…I’m not saying you shouldn’t come back at once. I just, I want your head to be in it. I want you to be in the right state of mind. Have you thought about talking to someone?”

Eddie looked taken aback. “What?” 

Tommy should have expected it. Guy like Eddie who’d been in the Army and who had probably not bothered to do any therapy after it, of course he didn’t think he needed it now. 

“The department has good grief counselors, Eddie,” Tommy said. “I won’t put any restrictions on when you can return, but I want you to see one…if they say that you’re fit to work and willing to do a few more sessions then that’s that.” 

Eddie looked like he wanted to argue, but Tommy was going to hold strong on that. He didn’t know what Bobby would have done in his place, but Tommy knew what Gerrard had done for a firehouse and a team that had lost one of their own. Tommy knew what Captain Reid at Harbor would do, too. 

“Are you serious right now?” Eddie asked. 

Tommy sighed. “Eddie, come on. I have a whole team to look out for here and this is not even really my house.” He lifted an eyebrow. 

“Okay,” Eddie said. “Fine. If that’s the only way.”  

“It’ll help, Eddie. I don’t…I’ve never been married, but I’ve lost important people. I get it. It isn’t easy and it won’t be for a while. How’s your son doing?” 

“As fine as he can be doing,” Eddie said. “My parents are here. My sisters. It’s helping him. It’s stressing me out.” 

“Parents are never easy. If you need to get away, give me a call. There are distractions that aren’t work, you know?”

[determinate-negation]

im making this post to call attention to the fundraiser of Doaa Jad al-Haq @dodoomar12345. this is a verified campaign.

doaa is a 38 year old woman with an autistic 5 year old son who escaped the genocide in gaza a few months ago but is now alone in egypt with very few resources. her son already needed special therapy and treatment before, but hes now been traumatized by the war and is suffering extreme shock and trauma. treatment for his trauma and fees for special education in egypt are very expensive, far beyond what she can afford. doaa lost her source of income when her sewing business was destroyed in the war. she is also raising money to get the materials she needs to restart her business here which you also can donate too. she told me that her sons condition is getting worse and its very difficult for her, especially since she separated from all of her family members, most of whom are still in gaza. this is a post with information on her and her sisters campaigns.

shes raising this money to support her sons treatment, as well as to help her family members who are trapped in gaza and living in horrific conditions of famine disease and death. shes extremely worried about them and struggling by herself in egypt.

we've heard a lot of news about refugees from gaza being treated badly in egypt and suffering because they had to leave with absolutely nothing. its often the case that refugees and genocide survivors are taken advantage of the most because they dont have any leverage, resources or community to depend on. its a really fucked up situation to be in, and i know that most people on tumblr seeing this would be at a complete loss for what to do if you were in her shoes. its not a position that anyone should have to be in.

because of that, i really implore you to donate to this campaign and help her and her family. its in swedish krona so USD and other strong currencies go a long way. especially if you have a degree of disposable income i encourage you think about what you could contribute because it could really make a difference.

52 SEK = $5 USD

104 SEK = $10 USD

261 SEK = $25 USD

1044 SEK = $100 USD

currently: kr 112,191 SEK out of kr 300,000 SEK

(converted– $10,744 USD out of $28,730 USD)

[roach-works]

im working on a thought here but i think a crucial component of supporting and advocating for liberal and progressive ideas is you have to trust people to muddle through mistakes. i see a lot of people that clearly want *safety* for marginalized people but their proposals amount to putting everyone in a padded room with their hands on a well lit table forever. we have to sanitize media, we have to protect people. we can't hurt anyone, we can't risk anyone-- but we can constantly constantly surveil each other and make new rules against ever doing the wrong things. you know, the bad things, the dirty things, the things that hurt you and make you sick and ruin everything for everyone forever. it's our moral duty, isn't it? to make the world cleaner and brighter and safer?

i think, probably, it would help a lot of us to take a deep breath and consider that you have to make mistakes in life. and so does everyone else. you learn things and you fuck up and you pull through. and you can warn people, if you think they're going to make a mistake, but i don't think you have a right to stop them from doing whatever damn fool thing they're up to.

i think that's what's really bothering me about current progressive discourse, and a lot of the proposed policies. a lot of kids are really scared right now that any single mistake is fatal, and while they're not totally wrong-- the economy sucks, there's still a plague going on, and america is a carceral panopticon--it's still not their *right* let alone their moral obligation to build a system where no one has the freedom to fuck up.

i don't know what the solution is here. a world with more resources would be great. a world with less deadly risk, too. but i'd settle for a world where we recognized and applauded everyone's human right to do weird stupid bullshit and learn better--or not--on their own time.

[cinnamonest]

I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.

I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.

The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:

Most women have rape fantasies.

62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!

The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)

To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:

the "go to therapy!" line

Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)

Here are some particularly insightful resources:

1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.

2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).

3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)

4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.

5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.

the "why would you want that?" line

The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.

the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line

On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.

The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.

No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.

ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.

Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:

(X) (X)

The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth

Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.

The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:

1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)

2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.

What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).

Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.

You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!

[ros3ybabe]

🎀 Hobbies 🎀

I feel as tho I don't have much time to do things besides school, work, some chores, and survive right now, but I've been thinking about some hobbies I enjoy and would like to incorporate into my life when I decide to make the time without burning out!

Reading - I used to be big on reading just about any books I could get my hands on. Then I was really focused on reading self help, and now that I haven't been reading at all, I've been thinking about getting back into reading. Always looking for book recommendations, and I do have my eye on some books I'd like to purchase.

Gardening - if I had the time and space, I'd love to have a flower garden or a vegetable garden. It always makes me happy when the fruits of my efforts come to life, so tending to plants and gardening sounds super fun and relaxing.

Video Games - I used to play video games on and off, but I wouldn't mind owning a PS4 or a Switch and spending some time playing video games whenever I'd want time to wind down.

Cooking/Baking - I love learning things, and the sense of pride I've gotten in the past when receiving praise for things I've cooked or baked has really driven me to want to increase my skill. I've only baked something from scratch once in my life, but I'd really like to expand my skills in making desserts.

Exercise - I'm talking all forms of it! Dancing, martial arts/kickboxing type activities, yoga, pilates, running, swimming, spin/cycling, weight lifting (again), calisthenics, all of it! I don't currently look like the exercise type but I find various forms of movement to be so fun! If I had more time, I'd be trying new things all the time!

Volunteer work - This is something I used to do all the time, and it's a hobby that I enjoyed that kept me humble. Not only that, but I thoroughly enjoy showing kindness and compassion to others. Making a difference in anuwau brings me so much joy, and I love meeting new people and learning their stories. I also would love to volunteer with animals, because they deserve so much love and affection too!

Drawing/Art - I used to draw for fun but when I started college, I didn't have the time to devote to continuously increasing my art skills. I still own a sketch kit, coloring materials, and several sketchbooks so it really is a matter of having time.

Crochet - The thought of making things that I can gift to others seriously makes me so excited!! Crochet seems like such a fun, crafty, relaxing activity and the added fun of gifting those crafts to others would make it so fun!!

Scrapbooking - I don't know if I'd ever do this one, but I do Ike the idea of keeping my memories in a physical space, and not just in like pictures on my phone.

Learning - if school wasn't crazy busy, I'd spend all my time learning languages (ASL, Japanese, Spanish, Korean, Mandarin, Italian, etc), computer coding skills, how to make and do certain things, just anything I can do to keep my mind enriched.

Upcycling/Altering Clothes - I would love to upcycle or alter articles of clothes into more personalized pieces for myself. The thought of having a personalized, hand made closet full of clothes makes me really want to buy a sewing machine and learn how to use it to my advantage!

That's all I can think of for now that I'd like to someday incorporate into my life. Having hobbies is always so fun, but I've been so busy and tired that I don't mess with any of the hobbies I'd want to do. If anyone has any tips for time management, or resources for beginning new hobbies, please let me know!!

til next time lovelies 🩷

[hanggarae]

WAYS WE CAN HELP PALESTINE:

as of 9am today, 8131 palestinians were killed, 20438 are injured and 1.4 million have been displaced. it’s important for all of us to help palestine in as many ways as we can.

i also cannot stress how much just spreading awareness in general can help. staying silent because of your discomfort is not an excuse to sit by while a genocide takes place. when we learn about these events in history we often think “how was this allowed to happen?” but that’s exactly what’s happening now and it’s our responsibility to not sit by and let an entire country be wiped out. i will continue adding more ways to help to this post and i’d really appreciate it if anyone can spread this as much as possible.

it’s important to get educated on everything going on in palestine right now, here are some sources that could help!

decolonize palestine - made by two palestinians, answers a lot of questions regarding everything right now (including debunking a lot of myths from biased news stations) and provides a lot of historical context.

list of documentaries to watch if you want to gain further knowledge

list of accounts to follow on twitter that can also provide information

linktree with information

you can also donate to organisations! even if you can’t donate tons of money, you can help by spreading these links so others can also try to donate!

red crescent

PCRF

MAP

doctors w/o borders

palestinian social fund

palestinian in pain launch good

this website is free and uses ad revenue for donations, all you need to do is click it once daily!

some more places you can donate to and some more

boycotting will also help!! also some of the kpop idols we stan have brand deals with ones that support 🇮🇱 so please let’s not interact with their posts with those brands

list from BDS of companies to boycott

signing petitions!

write to representatives and demand they retract their support of 🇮🇱

ways to contact local governments about helping palestine

if you’re in the uk here’s a link to contact your local MP

change org ceasefire petition

Text "CEASEFIRE" to 51905 if you live in America. The link provided leads you to a page to sign and call for a ceasefire once the goal is met. They are so close to meeting its goal!!

here's a link that lets you send a letter directly to your state representatives

here are some threads that will also give you ways to help.

thread of things we can do to help palestine

HOW TO HELP PALESTINE!! resources and links to other threads on how to donate and spread awareness of what's happening in palestine currently!!! a thread 🧵

here’s what we know, and links to donate to help aid palestinians, a thread:

Here is a list of list of resources and people you can follow to educate yourself on what’s going on in Palestine RIGHT NOW🇵🇸

Ways US, Canada, and UK residents can reach out to their state representatives and MPs to call for ceasefire in Gaza:

if there are any more sources that you would like me to add pls send me an ask or dm me !!

[creatingblackcharacters]

"It takes HOW LONG?" Black Hair is an Art (pt.2)

(This is part two of the hair lessons, focusing on writing/narratives. If you want to know how the styles LOOK, refer to part 1 and its addendum)

Now that you know what our hair actually looks like, we’re going to discuss incorporating that into your writing (original fic, fanfic, webcomics, anything with a narrative). You don’t HAVE to give us a dissertation on "how you studied 'The Black People’s Hair'" in your story. That’s not what I’m asking you to do. I’m just asking you to CONSIDER the effort and existence of it. The same way you put effort into discussing nonblack hair textures? Should be the sort of tenderness and care you put into discussing ours. It does not stand to reason that I have read thousands of stories describing "the silky, black/blonde tresses/waves that fell down their pale back as their lover ran their fingers through them", but Black readers have nothing of the sort to compare to without seeking our own authors out. Our hair deserves some loving and adoration too!

This is a very long post describing hairstyles and how they can correspond to your character's design and decisions, so I'll put a read more here. The sections are organized into 'Twist Out', 'Afros', 'Locs', 'Braids', 'Black Men', and 'Straight Hair' if you Ctrl F. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take your time to read all of this at some point though, as I put a lot of resources and explanation into this. I'm trusting you!

The History

As I discussed in the last lesson, our hair is incredibly important to us, and part of that includes the vulnerability and trust that comes along with access to it. This is due to a long history of oppression. There’s a racist history of making Black women hide our hair, as if it would ‘tempt white men’ away, regardless of it were due to actual attraction or the (more likely) rape of Black women. There’s a racist history of touching our hair, as though we are animals or zoo exhibits. We aren’t just going to let anyone touch our heads, so DON'T write that, unless you are doing so to show that it is a microaggression towards your character. Even now, cultural appropriation is rampant. If I were to wear cornrows with hoops, it'd be seen as 'ghetto' or 'gang-like'. Meanwhile, it is a fashion statement for white women. When Miles G Morales showed up in Across the Spiderverse, animators specifically chose cornrows for him, but many people mistakenly took it to me that he was 'rougher and tougher' than the original Miles. This was a racist perception! Hearing the Fade get hyped up in the news as the 'Travis Kelce', when Black men and especially NFL players have been wearing it for DECADES to crickets... it hurts lmao. Point is, you can describe and respect Black hair without being racist about it. Okay? Okay.

Vulnerability

YOUR CHARACTERS NEED TO BE CLOSE BEFORE ALLOWING THEM TO TOUCH THEIR HAIR!!!

It needs to be someone they TRUST wholeheartedly. Again, do NOT let a stranger touch their hair unless it’s meant to be an uncomfortable situation!

Consider CONSENT! Consent is ALWAYS beautiful! Have your other characters (Black or not) ASK to touch your Black characters’ hair! And not in the ‘Oh can I touch it?’ way. But if they’re really close friends or dating, have them ask to help do their braids, or wash their hair, or even just to stroke their hair and face! Or if your Black character is injured with a head wound, and they have to tend to them, have them ask! The asking shows a level of care and respect for your Black character and their body! At any point the consent may be revoked, and that needs to be respected! If they let them tend their head wound, but then smack their hand away after, that’s not ‘rude’- they’re allowed to do that, especially to signify that they aren’t at that level of trust yet. That's still angsty!

One great example of love from a Black character is doing their partner’s hair, or allowing their partner to do their hair. The ‘Hair-washing’ fic is a common thing in fanfiction; we all understand how that shows the depth of the trust in the relationship between the characters. How would you write about that trust with a Black character, if you don’t know what goes into taking care of their hair? If you don’t even know what their hair looks or feels like? The lack of awareness will show, and what should be a beautiful, deep moment will fall flat for Black readers. I wrote one once for my character with locs, and it honestly made me tear up because I realized that I’d never seen one, at least not in the majority white spaces that the fandoms I was in were.

Think about it- how often have you read a hair-washing fic with a Black character? Was it accurate? Would you know if it was accurate? Have you spoken to or heard anyone Black in your fandom space talk about it? Do you know anyone Black in your fandom space to ask? It’s things like this that we have to consider!

If you have a character that is nonblack in a relationship with your Black character, that honestly reveals even more trust because there’s a long history (again) behind that NOT happening! In life, we can’t go to the same places. I can’t go to a white hair salon or barbershop. They won’t know what to do! People are allowed to go through hair school without learning how to work with different, thicker textures. It’s not right nor fair, but it’s a part of the casual, systemic racism in our lives.

My feelings on what Lestat symbolizes aside, the scene where he plays with Louis’ curls in AMC's IWTV was an intelligent way to show that closeness, and how a nonblack character would affectionately play with a Black character’s hair! How he works with the curl in his fingers, rather than trying to pet Louis or run his fingers through- it was an intelligent move on Sam and Jacob’s part as actors to understand that THAT’S how that would go down!

If you have a character that wants to show a violation of your Black characters’ space, touching/harming our hair is cruelty on a very personal level that will generate an extreme reaction.

Think About Your Character!

When thinking about your Black character’s hairstyle, you need to think about your character themselves! What do they do every day? What are their hobbies? Are they Type A, Type B personality? Do they have a lot of time? Are they always in a rush? Are they noncommittal? Are they self-conscious? Artsy? Serious? Are they in a time period where the means to care for their hair are limited?

People make jokes and comments about how Black women don’t like getting our hair wet and dismiss our concerns. But it’s not out of ‘silliness’ or vanity. What you consider ‘just hair’ may have taken days of planning in advance and HOURS of our time! We put a lot of thought and effort into our hair, and it will easily shatter the illusion for your Black readers if you describe our hair poorly or create an unlikely scenario with it. It’s not a joke!

Some Terms:

Protective styles- a style that allows our hair to ‘rest’ with minimal manipulation

‘Tender-headed’- some people’s scalps are more sensitive to the tightness of styles, so it’ll hurt a little bit more and require some more gentleness (Regardless it’s still going to hurt for a bit after a fresh style)

Bonnets- a silk/satin cap of varying lengths that we wear at night to protect our hair and keep the moisture in

Loc Sock- same idea, but for locs

Durag- keeps short haircuts protected; can even help create the wave pattern that many Black men enjoy

Scarf- same idea as the bonnets, except scarfs can be used specifically for straight hairstyles to wrap them up to keep it straight and neat

(It'll seem real legit if you include your Black characters wearing their headcoverings at night! I remember laughing while reading Twilight because I knew that if Edward snuck into my room at night, he'd see me in my scarf or bonnet lmao.)

General Hair Care:

While I don’t completely agree with some of the advertising in this first one (it’s the internet. Can’t go nowhere without someone trying to hawk something) it’s cool in general to explain how our hair looks the way it does.

If you have Black children OCs, it’s important to consider that their parents have to do their hair, and how that will be its own experience! (It can be very stressful for Black children to get their hair done, as it takes a long time and can be physically uncomfortable. There are plenty of stories of burnt ears and tugged tangles and not very nice old women. Children are children! Keep in mind how they may behave while getting the style of your choice.

Moisturizing to keep healthy

Twist Outs

Cute twist out styles

Twist outs are a style that takes overnight to hold, or maybe even a few days! The cool thing is that the twists themselves can be the style! So the tighter you want their curls to be, the longer they’ll wear the twists in. If you want to describe your character with tighter curls, there needs to be a section of time where their hair remains in the twists! If your character has an event, and they want twists… this needs to be done in advance. Your character will NOT untwist them the day of, unless they want weak, limp curls (or you want the scene to compose of them having weak curls).

How long they'll last depends on the activity of your character! If all they do is work a desk job, or they don’t sweat very much, the twists can last some time! But if they sweat, or wear hats or caps, it’s not going to last long. Maybe a week.

Pros: Very versatile! If you have a character that loves trying new looks and enjoy being spontaneous, twist outs are for them! Easy! If your Black character is younger, or haven’t done their hair before, this is a great way for them to start working with their hair! Doesn’t take long (to do)! If your character is in a rush, and they do their twists, they can go just about anywhere. If they’re not self-conscious, this will be just fine.

Cons: It cannot get wet again, or the style will puff up back into your natural texture. It does not last long enough to say “oh my character went on a two year long fantasy adventure with this style.” If you want your character to have a twist out the whole time, they’re going to have to take time to do it. It would be cool if you incorporate a scene where they’re working on their hair, maybe in the background while everyone’s discussing plans or something. Just a reminder that their hair isn’t just staying magically twisted (unless they have the magic to do that).

Afros

Afro Style Guide, Style Guide for Men (works for any gender though)

Wash & Gos are just that- wash it (or really, condition it, you don’t have to shampoo it every time) dry with a t-shirt (to prevent breakage), put some oil and a light crème on it, fluff it up and you’re good to go! Maybe an hour at max and can be done while getting dressed in the morning!

Pros: Easy! If they’re doing a full, combed out afro, it’s not as simple, it will take more time. And at night it has to be plaited so that it maintains its length, otherwise it will tangle. But other than that, that’s still not all that hard. They can show off their curls! Black characters can and should have pride in their hair. It’s beautiful. This is the opportunity that you as an author can describe the pure texture of their hair, how it shines in the light, how the coils look, how soft it is! Romanticize Black hair the same way you do anyone else’s!

Cons: None really! Afros are wonderful! Just make sure that your character has a way to keep their hair from getting tangled. Just because it’s easy doesn’t mean there’s no maintenance! A pick, a bonnet, oil and water go a long way!

Locs

Five stages of locs

A person who does locs is a loctician.

Can be palm-rolled or interlocked/crocheted

I cannot emphasize enough that you do not want just anyone doing their locs! They can really mess up someone’s hair if they don’t know what they’re doing. I say that to say, for your character, if they don’t trust the person doing their hair… they should. They should not be walking into anyone’s place to get their hair locked; they’d do research first.

The time it takes locs to ‘bud’ (that is, to actually form the loc) depends on the texture of their hair. But it can take up to 3 months to even a year for them to actually ‘loc up’. So if your character just got locs, they’re not going to look neat. They’re going to be frizzy.

As long as they’re washing their hair, keeping it moisturized, and not using wax products (DO NOT HAVE ANY BLACK CHARACTER USE WAX PRODUCTS IT IS BAD FOR BLACK HAIR) it’ll last forever! Locs are incredibly strong, especially the thicker they get! It is recommended that locs are retwisted every six weeks, but if your character has freeform locs, doesn’t have the money or time right now, or they just aren’t that pressed, they can grow indefinitely.

Something cute to write in your stories: sometimes locs do just… fall out. Not the whole thing! But the same way thin hair gets everywhere… sometimes the ends of thin locs just… fall off! You’ll find little buds on the ground. This happens especially in the budding stage.

Pros: Very low daily maintenance! At most they’ll need a bonnet or loc sock, and oil/water mix to spritz and massage in. Strong style that can hold any look- buns, curls, etc. They can be dyed, though it will take a long time to do so. I say that to say, if you want your character to have bright green locs, go for it!!

Cons: Low daily, but HIGH wash day maintenance! So if your character has a fancy date or something to go on, they should not be getting their hair retwisted the same day, or at least not so close to. It’s going to be shiny, oily, and tight, which can cause discomfort. Give them the day to let the hair settle!

Locs are PERMANENT!! This isn’t a bad thing, as much as it is a ‘KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING BEFORE YOU DO IT’ thing. Technically they can be combed out, but that would take a very long time and very precise effort, and most people aren’t going through all that. They’re just going to cut them off and start fresh. If you have a character that would balk at such a choice, locs aren’t for them. If you have a character that’s picky and choosy, that likes versatility, that can’t make up their mind, do NOT give them locs unless they’re making the conscious choice to commit. (Again, this is subjective! Maybe they have locs because their mother died and it reminds them of her! Okay! That works!) If you have a character that’s vain, or at least doesn’t like looking awkward… unless they’re going to style up the awkward stage, they’re not going to want locs. (Awkward stage: the first two stages get considered awkward because the locs look messy. This is because they’re turning from curls to locs!)

Braids

Styles

How long braids can take depend on the style. Box braids can take 10-12 hours to do! Microbraids? You HAVE to have multiple people or you'll be there for damn near a day (and that's assuming you have a masterful braider!)

How long they last depend on your character! If they're like me as a kid, I didn't care how I looked, so my mom got me cheap braids and let me run free for two summer months. So if your Black character is a carefree child! Go for it. But if they're a teen or adult (or are very concerned about how they look) a month to six weeks is about how long braids can stay in before your new growth shows. A character that is usually trimmed and proper having loads of new growth over their braids may symbolize that they don’t have it all together anymore.

Pros: Protective style! Great way to let your character have minimal daily maintenance; oil and water and something to cover it. SOME braided styles allow for high activity and even rain without changing. It depends on the hair that’s been braided in, as well as the style. Incredibly versatile! They can have multi-colored braids, long braids, short braids, beads, trinkets… if your character is creative and bubbly and likes to experiment, the sky is the limit! That can symbolize their artistic expression, just by describing what they look like! So long as they have the time, they can have any look and style they want. No need to commit too long.

If your character is capable of doing their own braids (and locs, btw), they’re amazing. Like… that’s mad respect for them. If you describe your character being able to do their own braids, they’ve got amazing arm strength, patience, and skill. That skilled dexterity can be revealed as a trait of theirs through that alone.

Cons: They take a LONG TIME. Your character is not going anywhere. If they’re getting braids… they’re not going anywhere. If you write your character doing anything fancy the day of, depending on the type of braids, Black readers are not going to believe you. Even if it did get finished, it would be very tight. I currently have a poll going on, and so far, a good majority of the 10+ answers are braids! It cost MONEY. It is NOT CHEAP to get braids done! If your character is poor as a church mouse, they will be doing those braids with their friend in front of youtube. Because it can be in the hundreds of dollars. (Don’t get me started on hair culture right now; BACK IN MY DAY IT COST-)

Hairstyles on Black Men

I want to specifically give space and applause to these hairstyles on Black men, because we REALLY don’t give Black men enough credit for all the creativity they show with their hair! And again, with The Killmonger being the choice style in all these damn vidya games despite almost no Black man I know choosing it as a look… PLEASE LOOK! WE HAVE OPTIONS! Try describing how gorgeous these looks can be on your Black men characters! It would be very nice.

Straight Hair

Well, I was going to explain, but ol ‘Guest Writer’ here pretty much lays it all out! So just go ahead and read this article lol.

Just to re-emphasize, straight hair is NOT something that just grows out of our head that way! It takes effort! So if you have a character that doesn’t feel like maintaining straight hair, they shouldn’t have it! If your character has natural hair and lives in a rainy or humid city, they’re going to be fighting that weather to keep it straight- make sure that’s consistent with their personality!

My best friend used to wash and flatiron her hair every day. Like, laser focused on looking that good, Type A shit (she’s a top money banker now, so I guess it worked out). If you have a character like that, it’s fine! If they’re lazy any other time of the day, they’re not suddenly going to be waking up at 5am to flat iron their hair. It’s not consistent.

Conclusion

That’s pretty much what I have! I’m not the guru on all things Black hair, and I obviously cannot encompass every potential scenario you may have for your characters. Really, my intention here is to get you to think about how our hair reflects our character and personalities, and how when you write and/or draw a Black character, you have that ability! And when you’re able to incorporate that naturally, it makes your Black readers feel seen, like you actually cared about that character enough to give them just as much description as your nonblack characters. You don’t have to be a master at it! Just… occasionally the little things that we can go ‘oh, yeah!’ at would be nice. An equivalent effort would be nice.

Remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[lackadaisycats]

Hello! Would you happen to have any recommendations for realistic anatomy books on humans (for art purposes)? A lot of the online anatomy references are very exaggerated and the models have only 'ideal' body types and don't depict any others (E.g. Online male anatomy references are extremely buff for no reason). Thank you for the help :)

I do have a small collection of anatomy-for-artists books, but honestly, those are also populated predominantly with people who look like living Greek sculptures. So, I asked around a bit for both book and online sources. Here are a few things:

Height Weight Chart -- A library that people have contributed multitudes of their own photos to. Some people took turnaround photos in form-fitting clothes. Some are just one-off snapshots of people in street clothes. But, both of those things can be useful in their own way, and there certainly are a lot of body types here. (Thanks for the link, Fable).

------------------------------------------------------ AdorkaStock -- Features a whole free pose gallery containing a really excellent array of varied bodies. The photos generally focus more on form than costume, and if anything, the extremely sculpted bodies you tend to see in other stock libraries are de-emphasized here.

------------------------------------------------------

Satine Zillah -- An expansive library of downloadable photo packs. Most of them feature athletic or thin body types, many are heavy on costuming, but there are some that focus on more variety if you take time to scroll through (elderly bodies, plus-size bodies, people with dwarfism, etc.)

------------------------------------------------------

Morpho -- I know a lot of people swear by these books by Michel Lauricella. Morpho: Fat and Skin Folds in particular seems to cover some ground that a lot of other anatomy/pose lessons just skip right over. Looks like it's available as an ebook too.

I hope that helps some! I'm sure there are other resources out there, though. If anyone has some solid recommendations, please leave them in the comments!

[darkeneddawning]

Escaped clone au

You know all those fics where Danny and Damian are twins but everyone first assumes Danny must be a clone? How about an au where Danny is Damian's clone who escaped the League after he was assumed dead. Damian could even have been the one to have "killed" him, back when Danny was a newly created, fully brainwashed clone minion and trying to kill Damian himself.

Danny gets adopted by the Fentons and canon goes on as normal, until Dan. Witnessing what would happen to the world should he turn evil really drove home to Danny how dangerous he is.

Even if he was confident he could be trusted with his absurd amount of power (which he isn't), what if the League of Assassins found out about him? Does he still have programming triggers from his evil assassin clone conditioning?

So, Danny does the responsible thing: he goes to Batman to turn himself in.

Cue Danny showing up on Bruce's doorstep with ghost hunting equipment, intel on the afterlife, and an almost unbelievable backstory. Somehow he still managed to be more well-adjusted than Damian.

More thoughts under the read more

Here's how I'm thinking Danny leaving the League went down:

After surviving his wounds but failing his mission, Danny (then an unnamed potential Damian replacement) knew there was no point in returning to the League. As a failure, he was meant to be disposed of. He even thought of simply allowing himself to perish, since that was what the League would do.

But he couldn't help but feel as though that would be a waste of a resource. Surely he could be of more use to the League alive than dead?

That tiny bit of rebellious logic is what caused Danny to go into hiding, only living on based on the off chance he would find opportunities to further the League's goals. Obviously, that mentality didn't last long after being exposed to the real world and meeting one Jazz Fenton.

Being adopted by the Fentons was the best cover Danny could have asked for, since any odd behavior he couldn't hide while he was learning how to be "normal" was totally overshadowed by the sheer bizarre eccentricity of his new parents. He was still the neighborhood weird kid, but even that was a major upgrade from disposable tool, so Danny considered it a win.

Anyway, if anyone likes this idea, please feel free to have at it! Interpret it as you please :)

[spacelazarwolf]

Hey there! I’ve really appreciated your posts and perspective over this past month, I’m having a hard time (as so many Jews are) and your voice helps.

I’m hoping you can help me with reliable resources. A friend of mine condemned the Hamas attacks etc (as they should, to my relief) but is under the impression that Israeli govt is doing genocide to the Palestinians. I’ve no idea how to approach that to verify (or not), I don’t even know where to start looking. Do you have any suggestions?

Thank you.

thanks! this is a really tough question, but i'm going to do my best to break it down. also if anyone's thinking of clowning on this post without reading it, inb4 "omg ur denying genocide!!!!!!" bc this post is literally outlining, in detail, all the ways the israeli government is, by definition, committing genocide.

this is really long, just a heads up.

a big frustration i have with a lot of progressive or leftist spaces is the tendency to throw around words like genocide without being able to define the term or properly apply it to the situation in question. this isn't just a semantics issue. if all you're doing is repeating the buzzwords you've heard on social media, your "activism" is going to be less than useless. it is crucial that if you are going to talk about the current genocide in gaza, you must be able to define exactly what a genocide is and how it applies to what's happening in gaza.

i'm paraphrasing from this article by the united nations. the word "genocide" was coined in 1944 by raphael lemkin in his book "axis rule in occupied europe." it was developed partly in response to the shoah, but also to previous instances of what we would now define as genocide. it was recognized as a crime under international law in 1946, and codified as an independent crime in the 1948 convention on the prevention and punishment of the crime of genocide.

the definition of genocide

(from article II of the convention on the prevention and punishment of the crime of genocide):

in the present convention, genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:

a. killing members of the group; b. causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group; c. deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part; d. imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group; e. forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.

the 10 stages of genocide

a model created by gregory stanton, the founding president of genocide watch

classification - people are divided into "them and us"

symbolization - when combined with hatred, symbols may be forced upon unwilling members of pariah groups.

discrimination - law or cultural power excludes groups from full civil rights: segregation or apartheid laws, denial of voting rights.

dehumanization - one group denies the humanity of the other group. memmbers of it are equated with animals, vermin, insects, or diseases.

organization - genocide is always organized... special army units or militias are often trained and armed...

polarization - extremists drive the groups apart... leaders are arrested and murdered... laws erode fundamental civil rights and liberties.

preparation - mass killing is planned. victims are identified and sepaarated because of their ethnic or religious identity.

persecution - expropriation, forced displacement, ghettos.

extermination - it is 'extermination' to the killers because they do not believe their victims to be fully human.

denial - the perpatrators... deny that they committed any crimes.

application to the crisis in gaza

to start with the first definition from the united nations:

a. killing members of the group - YES

the death toll in gaza has risen above 8,000 according to the associated press. as far as i know, as of writing this post, there has been no ceasefire so the death toll will continue to rise.

b. causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group - YES

over 20,000 people in gaza have been injured, and gazans - particularly children - suffer incredibly high rates of ptsd.

c. deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part - YES

the israeli blockade of gaza has had devastating consequences for gazans. they are running out of food, water, fuel, and medicine, and this is costing additional lives.

d. imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group - unclear but leaning toward YES

whether or not it is the explicit goal, the current bombardment of gaza has put the lives of 50,000+ pregnant women in gaza at risk, along with their babies. babies who need incubators are also in danger as generators begin to run out of fuel.

e. forcibly transferring children of the group to another group - as far as i am aware, NO

according to the us embassy in israel, the palestinian authority ministry of social development is the only authorized entity regarding adoption of palestinian children. this doesn't mean it isn't happening, it just means i was not able to find any credible sources.

the 10 stages of genocide

classification - YES there is a long history in israel of othering palestinians, both socially/culturally and legally. former israeli minister of interior and minister of justice ayelet shaked shared a racist quote from netanyahu's former chief of staff explicitly framing palestinians as "the enemy."

symbolization - not yet there are no overt symbols palestinians, even within israel, are required to wear to outwardly identify themselves, but there are identifying features on their ids. in fact, the opposite has been happening, with far right members of the israeli government attempting to pass legislation making it illegal to publicly display palestinian flags.

discrimination - YES there is, again, a long history of discrimination against palestinians within and by the state of israel. it is difficult for palestinians from the west bank or gaza to gain status in israel, israeli work permits are used as a form of control, and often forcibly separate palestinian families.

dehumanization - YES former israeli deputy minister of defense eli ben dahan said of palestinians, "to me they are like animals, they aren't human."

organization - YES israel is currently carrying out an organized and brutal attack on gaza.

polarization - YES from extremist groups like hamas, to the corruption in the likud party in israel, there are very clear signs of extreme polarization. israel's siege against gaza has caused polarization across the entire globe.

preparation - YES gazans in particular are unable to leave gaza without a permit, and now with the blockade from both israel and egypt they are essentially trapped.

persecution - YES gaza in particular could absolutely be likened to a ghetto. as stated above, (in "usual" circumstances) they are unable to leave without a permit, and since hamas took control it is nearly impossible to get an israeli work permit.

extermination - GETTING THERE if the siege continues and gazans are unable to get out of gaza, there will be catastrophic casualties.

denial - YES i often hear that "israel has a right to defend itself" but i cannot possibly find a way to frame the current siege as "self defense."

so in conclusion, israel is - by multiple definitions - committing genocide against gazans. and it's very important to be able to identify specifics, especially if you are planning on having discussions about it. and i've said it in the past, but if you are not directly affected by what's happening - palestinians in particular, but israeli citizens and jews and muslims in the diaspora are also getting hit hard - it is IMPERATIVE that you are able to talk about this with a level head. escalating tensions and pushing away potential allies is only going to make things worse. find common ground, form connections, and then have a productive discussion.

[bioethicists]

Come Chat about Psych Abolition + Harm Reduction!

Over the past several weeks, I've hosted 5 Zooms where we chatted about psych abolition + its futures + the work we want to see in the world. It was a deeply healing experience for me + I appreciated hearing from all of you so much more than you could even know. As I discussed, I am hoping to host a second set of these Zooms, this time 6 in sequence, focused on harm reduction + psych abolition. Harm reduction is both my vocation + my passion in life + I'm really excited to share about it with you all.

As some people requested, the format this time will be a little different- I will open each session with a brief (~15 min) presentation from either myself or one of my comrades discussing the topic + explaining crucial works in a way that is accessible to someone with no prior knowledge of harm reduction. After that, we will chat similarly to the format of the first set of meetings, bouncing ideas off one another + sharing what resonates with us + what doesn't.

A reminder to anyone who wants to attend that under no circumstances may anyone contact the authorities as a result of anything spoken about during the Zoom. Free discussion of self-injury + suicidality + substance use are expected without fear of being “crisis” intervened upon. That being said, the goal of these chats is not necessarily to be a support group but more to talk about psychiatric abolition, build community, + increase knowledge.

I will be doing 3 weekday evening sessions + 3 midday Saturday sessions (apologies to those who observe Shabbat! My Sundays became a bit haywire), hoping to accommodate people with different work schedules + time zones. They will be via Zoom. Each topic will repeat 2x, but I still encourage people to attend both if they want to chat more about it! 'Lurking' (aka camera off, no speaking) is encouraged! Any way that you want to show up is okay- we regularly have people attend who do not engage at all, or only engage in the chat. Chat messages are read aloud by me to ensure that chat participants feel equally included in the group.

Also, I am looking for people who have resources that may be helpful for these, as well as people who might be interested in speaking about their experiences with these topics. Unfortunately this is all just done by me, in my office, so I don't have compensation to offer, but anyone who wants to contribute in any capacity is encouraged to reach out <3 Elliott @trans-axolotl will be giving the presentation portion for Harm Reduction (Self-Injury + Suicidality).

Also, if you would like to join the Madness + Liberation forum where we discuss psychiatric abolition at greater length, please feel free to fill out my Google Form here.

Those of you who need a dial-in number, please message me on Tumblr or send an anon + I will provide it.

Resource Masterlist

Summary of the first set of sessions, Substance Use

Summary of the second set of sessions, Disorderly Eating

UPDATED!Harm Reduction (Self-Injury + Suicidality): Monday September 23rd @ 9pm EST | 1am UTC

UPDATED!Harm Reduction (Self-Injury + Suicidality): Saturday September 28th @ 12pm EST | 4pm UTC

(image by asako narahashi, 2003)

[tac-the-unseen]

Gifts the slashers would enjoy

Fluff

Minor updates for formatting

Micheal Myers:

•Arts and crafts supplies

-He's enjoyed making Paper Mache masks most of his life. It's very likely that he enjoys other forms of art as well, but couldn't express that in the ward for fear it would be taken away.

-Dr. Loomis sucks

-Giving him art supplies now, would end up in him making his art in secret. He feels embarrassed to like such a simple thing. That shame is intensified if you ask to see it. He'll end up leaving it out so you can see it without directly showing it to you

•Candy Corn, circus peanuts, and Crunch bar.

-Are they his favorite? No. But they bring back good memories, and for Michael, that's enough.

-would spend a good chunk of time snaking on the sweets while you spend time with him

-Can be bribed into a lot of shenanigans with candy

•Homemade meal

-He rarely had anyone make him dinner. His mom being a ‘working’ woman ment that he had to fend for himself come dinnertime.

-Knowing that you wanted to, and found time to make him dinner make him feel that icky (Nice), bubbly feeling in the center of his chest

-minor Headcannon: first time this happened Micheal thought he was having a heart attack.

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•Horror movie merchandise

-Their collectors. If you manage to get your hands on something they don't have, they'll give you anything you want in return.

-will trip over themselves trying to replay you

-Stu would actually kiss the ground you walk on if you ask

•Jewelry

-They both appreciate necklaces, bracelets, and RINGS

-Stu is a gold guy, Billy is a sliver guy.

-They’re like crows. Anything shiny will end up in their pockets. Imagine Stu showing off his rings like a newly proposed to woman. Fawning over the design and/or jewels.

•knives/knife sharpener

-They collect knives of different quality and look

-they better ones they use to hunt. The best ones and the weaker ones are put on display like trophies.

-No matter the quality you get, it's the fact it came from you but they care about

Thomas Hewitt:

•Flowers

-Thomas is a sucker for old ‘traditional’ romantic actions

-Seeing you hold up hand-picked flowers makes his heart gush. He thinks you look so precious, wanting to make him happy.

-sometimes he'll catch you, out of a window, picking flowers just so you can give it to him. He'll never tell you, and will always act surprised when you present the bouquet.

•Bones

-its simple and an abundant resource at the house. There's always bones somewhere, and Thomas knows how to use the bones

-They’re good for making repairs, as tools, and as decorations

-You 10000% have a bone bracelet that Thomas made for you when you guys started to get more serious

•Desserts

-Thomas won't admit it, but he has a sweet tooth. Why do you think Luda mae spends so much time baking?

-While a good pie is enough to send this man to his knees, any other baked good will do.

-He likes cherries and strawberries, but because of how expensive they are he doesn't tell anybody that it's his favorite. He doesn't want anybody ‘wasting’ money or resources on him.

Bubba Sawyer:

•Flowers

-Bubba loves flowers. Any kind of flowers is enough for him to let out squeals of happiness. He loves seeing them around the farm, and plants them around the house when he has spare time.

-So when you go to town and come back with a bouquet of flowers just for him, nearly crushed you with hugs.

-Keeps them alive for as long as possible then perseveres them in notebooks and in salt

•Quilting supplies

-Bubba is really good at handling leather. Those human skin masks are hard to make, and human leather is so incredibly delicate.

-On top of that, he is a family man. He want to make things that help his family. So he makes blankets!

-its a fine craft and perfect in enhancing his skills.

•Good old quality time

-He loves spending his time with you! If he could spend all day with you, he would.

-So sitting down and cuddling means that absolute world to him. He cherishes his time with you and it what he looks forward to everyday. It's why he wakes up in the morning. It's why he tries hard everyday. He wants to spend every day starting and ending with you!

Bo Sinclair:

•Tools

-If your in the workshop often enough, you'll know what ends replacing.

-Bo is as stubborn as stubborn comes, so he won't get new tools until they physically can't do their job anymore.

-If you get him new tools he will begrudgingly take them, but after an hour or two he'll find you just so he can thank you ‘properly’.

•Cigarettes

-The boy smokes

-Don’t know what else to tell you

-Will kiss you when you give it to him though

•Kids Toys

-Sounds weird, but having his childhood taken away from him leaves him wanting to fill up the gaps.

-when looking through a victim's car you found a two handed water ring-toss toy. when you showed Bo He just rolled his eyes and kept working on his Truck. You started playing with it when at the shop, even leaving it there on a few occasions. Every time you left it there, He would take it and sneak into the back room of the shop to play with it.

-it brought him immense joy. One day he forgot to put it back, and when you asked about it he berated you for losing your things and expecting him to keep track of your belongings. He never told you, and would rather die than admit it.

Vincent Sinclair:

•Art/craft supplies

-Its a given, really

-He very rarely get new art supplies (if you don't count corpses) so it’s nice to get replacements.

-Will take anything you give him, honestly

•Books

-Vincent isn't always making art. Sometimes art can get boring for him, or he hits a rough patch and doesn't know where to go from there.

-A book can easily help, Whether it's just something else to do or it helps him overcome his art block. He will oftentimes get up from his work space and find another spot to sit down and read.

-He loves it when you read to him. It's nice to just listen to something while you work.

•Hoodies

-with his combination of body issues and wanting to be cozy, A hoodie seems to be the best option.

-Even though it is hot in Louisiana, The cool basement and even cooler nights need a little warmth.

-loves the feeling of the softer cloth and with it being a present, makes it all the better.

Lester Sinclair:

•Lip balm

-Lester has a hard time with hygiene. No one ever really taught him how to take care of himself.

-So when you notice Lester had chapped lips and gave him some lip balm something in his brain short circuited. The fact that YOU want to help him, makes his heart swell.

-keeps it in his pocket and constantly reapplies it

•Car freshener

-Even with him blind to the smell of death, the hot Louisiana sun will intensify the foul smell 10 fold. You knew it was bad when you could smell the truck before you could see or hear it.

-You ran out of town and bought several packs of air fresheners for his truck. You told him that you do love him, just not the smell that lingers when he gets home from work. Lester doesn't want to make you gag every time he gets into bed with you.

-He likes the Strawberry, sugar cookie, and fresh linens scent best

•Dinner

-He’s not the ‘I better come home to a hot plate of dinner' kind of guy, but he really appreciates it when he does. Even though Bo is a semi-good cook, anything after years of having it will get boring.

-Having you cook for him (and most likely his brothers) is a nice change of pace.

-Will eat anything you cook. Whether it's ‘good’ or ‘bad’ he will happily eat it all.

Billy Lenz:

•Being read too

-Isn’t a physical present but he loves your voice. He wants to read but has A) a hard time focusing and B) has a hard time reading in general

-Having you read to him calms him down and gets him settled enough to sit still and/or do an activity smoothly

-Reading to him 100% makes him fall asleep in the end. And boy does this insomniac need it

•Crochet equipment

-After learning how to Crochet he can't stop. He runs through String like a mad man. He has made you 6 sweaters and increasing in quality over time

-Will give you a list of all the colors he wants and will wait patiently on your bed for you to come back.

-Gets ridiculous excited when he's given new supplies. Will be your lap dog for weeks after

•String lights

-Doesn't have to be Christmas themed, he just really likes the lights. Like a moth drawn to flames.

-likes to fall asleep with them on, it's like Billy’s own big night light.

-Has gotten too close to them and accidentally ripped them down. He tried to hide them so he didn't get in trouble, and actually cried when you found out.

Brahms Heelshire:

•Clothes

-You wondered why his clothes were so ill-fitting for a long time before you realized, that's his dad's old clothes.

-coming to that realization you manage to figure out his proper size and (after some minor fighting) when out to get him a much needed upgrade. When you came home he was waiting by the door, waiting for you. Giving him his new clothes was like telling him you would never leave again, he was ecstatic. He ripped the bags out of your arms and ran into his room so he could try them on

-He fell in love with the sweaters you got him, with a nice couple pairs of khakis. It wasn't much of a transition from his old clothes but that's just what he likes.

•Movies/Movie night

-The only movies he's seen are from his childhood, and he can barely remember them. His parents didn't think movies were healthy for a growing boy, so they only allowed him books to pass the time

-When you proposed a movie night he had a couple questions and even a bit of hesitation. “What if they melt my brain?” He asked with genuine concern. After you posed another question back “Why wouldn't they have melted my brain yet?” Did he trust you.

-You started with childhood classics before getting into the more ‘adult’ stuff. He loved every minute of it

•Picnics

-While Brahms isn't a fan of going outside, the garden is the only exception. You wanted him to go outside because orange juice can only do so much for a vitamin D deficiency.

-He said the only way he would go outside was if you had a Picnic and put his sunscreen on. Making sandwiches with chips and then lathering him in 80 SPF he went outside in a tank top layered with a crocheted vest and shorts, had him outside fairly quickly

-Now he wants a picnic every summer

Hannibal Lecter:

•Wine

-After dating for a while you started to notice where Hannibal got his expensive foods and wines

-you also noticed what he actually liked and what he was just experimenting with. While fruity and floral flavors were always favored, herbs and Nutty wines were much lower on his list.

-With that in mind you got a Cherry lavender wine from Greece. When you gave it to him he was actually shocked you were paying attention to his preferences. He told you most people just buy cheap wine and expect him not to notice.

-The wine you picked out now has a permit spot saved on his wine shelf.

•Paper bouquet

-Paper made into the shape of different flowers all wrapped up in another paper tying it all together. It's cute, classy (though he would never display it openly), and will never wilt!

-He had told you about the complexity of life using flowers as an example and how they wilt. So you decided to make flowers that can't wilt to not only sass him but to give him something

-He put them in a paper vase he made (in only what you can assume was) in his free time.

•Friendship bracelets

-What was originally a gag gift turned out to be one of his favorite gifts.

-You thought there was no way in hell THE Hannibal Lecter would wear cheap bright string woven together, but you were wrong.

-You had made some friendship bracelets out of old string you found in some old stuffed away box and laughed at the idea of Hannibal finding it in his desk drawer. So you did just that, just to come to the shocking realization that during a meeting with the F.B.I he was wearing it, hidden under his sleeve. You had a very hard time containing your laughter that night.

Will Graham:

•Quality time with you!

-Life has always been stressful for Will. So some alone time with you is always a great gift.

-No need for fancy dinners, events, or holidays. Just sitting down to watch whatever pops up on the T.V screen is enough for him.

-Bonus points if the pack joins in for a cuddle session!

•Handwritten letter(s)

-Having a man with a different then most emotional attachment style is hard. Will might not always what to be physically touched or poked at. Sometimes he doesn't even want to talk (Common coping mechanism for Autistic people)!

-But even when he gets like this, it's still nice to get some reassurance. You started writing him little notes around the house a while ago and slowly you noticed Will’s mood improving significantly.

-He found it very sweet that you were taking the time to meet him on a level he was comfortable with. The two of you don't speak about it often but the notes persist.

•New fishing gear

-anything fishing related is always an appreciated

-New lears, poles, vests, hooks, bait even. Anything even if he already has it, he will take it happily

-He’ll take you fishing with his new gear you got him and will happily teach you if you don't know how to fish

The Lost Boys:

•Jewelry

-All four vamps love jewelry of any kind

-All of them have earrings, bracelets, and necklaces so why not give them Something they can say they got from their S/O!

-David and Marko prefer bracelets, David’s gloves wouldn't mesh well with rings, and he thinks a necklace might make him seem less intimidating. Marko would chew on a necklace and worse could get caught during a fight. Rings would be damaged either due to said fighting and/or his painting. Bracelets are that perfect in-between!

-Dwayne and Paul like Rings for different reasons. For Dwayne Rings have that ‘marriage’ aspect to them. Not to say rings mean marriage, but historically speaking…it's like putting your claim on him and he's thriving for that.

-Paul likes rings to fidget with. He already has rings he uses as ways to occupy his hands when something or someone isn't. Will 100% show off his ring you gave him to the others.

•Gift boxes

-The boxes full of pictures, candy, and other meaningful things

-They all go feral over those boxes, especially the first ever box. It was filled with your own little doodles, candy you know they like, mini bottles of whiskey, and a note telling them about how much you care about them and where to meet you for the night.

-if you plan to do this more often make sure each boy gets to keep something or they WILL fight over it.

•ScrapBooks

-Memories bunch up and fade when you're a vampire. They can't always remember the little things, so having a book of all those memories they can look back at is great idea!

-You even found a creative way to include them in pictures! They can't be seen in photos, but they're shadows can! You take pictures under street lamps and make silly poses. You have a picture of Paul dramatically falling into Marko's arms while Dwayne and David kiss either side of your face.

-All those silly pictures combined with your and Marko’s creativity ends up in some fun, colorful, memories

Thanks for reading <3

(You know I write a fuck ton when It started glitching out. Like it would freeze while I was formatting it correctly 😭)

[giddyfatherchris]

a movie i've seen before

pairing. bang chan x reader

type. angst (-y ish?)

warnings. none

word count. 2.3k

a/n. i have been working on this for quiiiite some time now and i feel so nervous to finally post it!! this will be a series of max 4 parts, i really really hope you guys will like it and if anyone is interested to be in a tag list for this pls just lemme know, hope you’ll enjoy mwah xxx

big fat huge DISCLAIMER: i have nothing against idols dating and i sure hope for them that they do if they want to!!! but for the sake of this story none of the boys have had a huge dating experience. i also do know its probably very unlikely that someone working on the staff could date any of them but like... chill its just fiction :)

You remember with great detail your first day working at JYP Entertainment and the first time you met him.

It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was shining bright in the blue sky. The wind was soft and warm as it whirled around you, carrying a sweet lilac scent. You were nervous but oh so excited. A warm feeling grew in your body as you walked confidently to the big windowed building. It was your first day as a communication and social relations intern at JYP Entertainment, one of the most successful idol companies. You remember walking through the big doors, mesmerized by the environment surrounding you. You walked to the front desk, presented yourself, and politely asked for directions. The receptionist bowed and lifted a finger in the air, signaling she would be free in a short moment. You honestly did not mind waiting. It gave you more time to appreciate the fancy interior of your future place of work. Your idle admiration halted when you noticed him standing next to you.

He wore a black cap, a face mask, and a cross-body bag hung on his shoulder. He was wearing black sweats with a black cardigan.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help but hear you are a new worker for JYP Entertainment. I'm also heading that way. I'll show you," he suggested with a polite smile.

You followed him to the elevator, to the 10th level of the building, and only stopped when you were facing a massive dark wooden door. He wished you good luck before promptly leaving. You watched him as he disappeared around the corner and tried to make sense of the interaction you just had. He was very polite and asked a few questions about your new position. His voice seemed familiar although you couldn't pinpoint its owner. The easy going conversation he provided helped you calm down and think of something else, which was very welcome in your situation. With a deep breath, you focused on the purpose of your visit and knocked.

"Y/n, you should pay for the meal since we've done such a great job at the last event!" screamed an overexcited Han, heavily supported by Changbin.

You were in a small bar with Minho, Hyunjin, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. You decided to go for a celebratory night out to highlight a few successes you had collected. It had been a year since that famous day you first stepped into the JYP entertainment building. Long gone was the stress, the discomfort, and the hesitation. Ever since that first day, you became a valued member of the Stray Kids staff. Your ability to speak three languages, various degrees, and experiences in human resources and public relations secured you a place in the team. Your three-month internship quickly evolved to a six-month one until they offered you a contractual job. Today, you finally got a permanent position as the assistant manager of Stray Kids, and you felt like your heart might explode with joy.

"I'm the one who just got the job. Shouldn't you be paying for me? Plus, it will be much less expensive," you argued teasingly. Honestly, you could care less if you had to pay for that crazy bunch or even the whole bar. YOU HAD GOTTEN THE JOB!!!

"I wouldn't say that. You eat as much as all eight of us," countered Changbin with an annoyed pout. Everybody around the small table laughed at his comment, knowing he wasn't lying.

"Hey! We will pay for Y/n. She deserves it. Congratulations on the job! Please eat and drink as much as you want." Finally settled Felix with a smile.

They all cheered for you before putting various plates and drinks in your hands. You laughed until your cheeks cramped, and you felt like you would never catch your breath. The night was merry and joyful. You felt so grateful for these amazing people you now had the chance to call friends. Still, your happiness could not be complete with the missing presence of one of the members. You swallowed back your disappointment and focused on the people surrounding you.

After your meal, you all went to the dorms to continue your celebration in a more private setting. Upon your arrival, you noticed Chan still wasn't home. You couldn't help a sharp pain from piercing through your stomach. But once again, you ignored it, put on some comfortable clothes, and joined the loud boys in the common room.

"Has anyone seen Chan hyung?" asked Jeongin as he settled on the couch between Hyunjin and Han.

"I think he's still in the studio," answered Felix with a side look in your direction. You acted as if you didn't notice, even if you weren't fooling him.

The group decided to play a game of truth or dare. Faithful to Stray Kids' brand, the game was incredibly chaotic. The questions were steamy, and the dares were very challenging. For example, when Changbin was dared to lick Lee Know's foot, to both their utmost horror. The group erupted in screams when Chang Bin dramatically pulled Lee Know's sock before barely darting out his tongue on the dancer's foot. It was your turn once everybody calmed down, and Binnie washed his tongue with soap.

"Truth or dare?" asked Chang Bin.

"Truth," you responded without hesitation. "After what I've just seen, I'm way too scared to do a dare." The boys giggled as your buff friend thought about a question to ask.

"Is it true you once talked back to JYP?" He cautiously asked. You rolled your eyes at the question you should have been expecting.

"I'm not sure if I should tell the truth..." You hesitated.

"Oh! Oh! If you're not sure, it means it's true!" screamed Han with a finger pointed at you. You hid your face with embarrassment before you resigned.

"I will neither deny nor confirm this rumor. But I will say, JYP makes a funny face when he realizes he's wrong," you added mischievously. Your answer was all it took for the group to burst into chaotic excitement once more.

"Now, my turn. Hyunjin, truth or dare?" he answered the first, probably also traumatized from Bin's dare. You fidgeted with your fingers before speaking. "Between the eight of you, who would you say has the most dating experience?"

The group of boys fell silent for a second before exploding with laughter. Out of all their possible reactions you had not been expecting that one.

"What? I didn't know that was such a humorous question," you asked, surprised. Han had fallen from the couch and was silently wheezing on the floor.

"Y/n, you're talking to twenty-something boys who have been trainees and idols for most of their young adult lives. Do you think any of us has experience dating?" he answered after catching his breath. His face was still slightly red, and you weren't convinced he wouldn't start laughing again. "We did have a few experiences here and there, but nothing very serious."

You looked around, surprised. It did make sense, but Stray Kids was such a high-energy group. Without mentionning the fact that they were all so handsome, nice and charming human beings. You sincerely thought some of them had had serious partners.

"Our only partners have been STAYS," added Changbin while lifting his glass for a cheer to their loyal fans. The rest of the group nodded accordingly.

"Really? Even Chan?"

This time, your friends all looked at each other with a chuckle.

Minho glanced at you with a suspicious expression. "Why do you ask that?"

You tried to restrain the heat spreading on your cheeks from alerting them of your true intentions. "Well, he is the oldest, and Chan is so... approachable. I thought if someone might have at least a little more experience it's him," you smoothly argued.

"Well, you are wrong. Even if we barely have any, Chan's the worst of us," added Hyunjin with a look around his brothers.

Suddenly bored with the subject, the group picked up on the game again. You observed them silently, so many questions still dancing around your head. The seat next to you bent as Felix joined you with a knowing look.

"So, Bang Chan," he started with his deep voice.

"I was just asking for the game. I swear." Pink colored your cheeks, and this time, you couldn't hide it.

The member who had become one of your best friends stared at you unimpressed. He sighed, "Chan is the worst of us because he never takes time off. You are right. He's approachable, nice, and everything you want, but it never goes past a certain level." He took a moment to think before he continued, "You know how hard Chan works, right?" you nodded. Everybody knew. "And you know how he has a hard time sleeping, how stressed he is, how much pressure he puts on himself?" You nodded again, this time much more somberly. "Still, he never bothers anyone with his problems? He keeps on showing up. Chan's a very private person. He will be nice to you, but he's very guarded about what he goes through. I'm not sure why. Anyway, that is a big obstacle to surpass if you want to have a special someone in your life. Plus, I don't think he even notices people giving him that kind of attention. He's so shy about it. Sometimes, I think he forgets that there's a whole wide world apart from our idol's existence."

You silently processed all that new information. "Do you think that's also why he forgot about tonight?" you finally asked. The words had been hanging at your lips, but it hurt to admit he forgot about your special night. He had been so supportive ever since you started at the company. His absence had hurt way more than you would care to admit.

Felix let out a defeated sigh before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"You know him. He's been in a creative slump. Inspiration probably struck tonight, and the rest of the world ceased to exist. It's nothing against you," he squeezed your shoulder in an attempt at confort.

"I know, it just means I'm nothing special to him either," you muttered.

Felix was the only one who knew of your year-long crush on Chan. He was observant and quickly noticed how flushed you turned whenever the oldest member was around. But how could you not like him? You had once argued with Felix. He was so thoughtful and caring. His laugh had the power to brighten up your days in a second. He was always the one to try and make you giggle when you were frustrated or sad. For a whole year now, you had been watching over each other as you worked your asses off for the company. You liked and admired Chan for the whole person he was.

"You know it's more than that. Still, I understand your pain. What do you say about a bunch of brownies to fix your aching heart?" he suggested with a sweet smile.

"Did I hear brownies?" suddenly roared Changbin.

Your baking session was incredibly messy, cluttered, and fun. Han, Changbin, and Jeongin were the DJs in a corner while Felix, Seugmin, and you were on baking duty. Minho and Hyunjin were responsible for decorating the baked batch of brownies and even prepared one for you with candles.

"To celebrate your amazing promotion!" they cheered with proud smiles.

The boys gathered around while you blew the candles and once your wish was made they engulfed you in a hug until you couldn't breathe.

It was 1:00 am when Chan finally appeared. The boys were already in bed while you were cleaning up a little, unable to sleep. You lifted your head in surprise when you heard someone enter the room. Your eyes fell on a very tired-looking Bang Chan. His hair was sticking up, probably from running his hand through it too much. He was still wearing his practice sweats, and his bare face was annoyingly good-looking. He looked around the room, confused, until his gaze fell on the pieces of brownies left with a bit of "Congratulations Y/n!" frosting. Suddenly, his eyes went up two sizes.

"Oh no. Did I forget your celebratory night?"

You scrunched your face and stopped what you were doing. "Might have, but don't worry. You didn't miss much. We just went out, played games, and then decided to bake some brownies."

"Y/n, I'm so sorry." His hand went up to squeeze his head. "I got an idea for a new song and lost track of time."

You lifted your shoulders as if it meant nothing to you. Set on not letting him see you disappointed. "It's okay Chan," you whispered while keeping on cleaning.

"No, it's not. Come here." He shuffled to you with his big hands stretched out, a look of guilt on his face. You let him hug you for a second before you tried pulling back. "Let me hug you properly. Don't be stubborn," he whined.

You finally gave up and allowed his arms to properly wrap around you. A few inches taller, his head rested on yours, and you let yourself be engulfed by his warmth and the comfort it brought you until you pulled away again. These things with Chan were dangerous, especially after your conversation with Felix. You realized you couldn't allow your feelings to grow too much. Even if it wasn't directly because of you, Bang Chan did not have the space in his life for love, and you were not the person who would make him change his mind. You had to keep the damages to a minimum. He whined again as you separated from him, not quite understanding. You were usually never one to refuse a hug.

"I'm gonna go to bed." You finally stated without adding another word. Leaving was the best choice as you knew how thin your resolve grew whenever Christopher Bahng Chan was in your orbit.

He watched you leaving, not understanding why he suddenly felt so uneasy. The expression he saw on your face was foreign to him.

"You messed up on this one hyung."

He turned to look at the owner of the deep baritone voice he just heard. Felix was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed on his chest.

[yandere-sins]

The Orcas' Tale - Krill's Story I

a/n: I have... not much to say, although you should read the warnings. But I need you guys to know that this is 7.666 words long. I didn't make it this way intentionally, but if that isn't devilish, I don't know what is :')

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Nothing explicit yet just drug-induced neediness and description of a cock doing what a cock does, Size... adoration, Begging), Violence (Thrashing, Breaking of bones, fighting machines, Verbal threats, mention of medical tools, syringes), Getting drugged non-consensually, Description of being drugged up, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Mention of Slavery, Mention of Abuse, Depiction of spoiled Food and Seal Meat, Very long post

"It truly is an impressive recovery of such a valuable resource! Being able to compare the exact date from years ago with now makes for a great opportunity in our research, and now we have two of them! This is your chance to recover from your mistakes all those years ago!"

With pep in his step, your supervisor led you through the long, cagey hallway of the facility, making it almost hard to follow him with all the enthusiasm he was displaying. You, on the other hand, felt nothing but dread as you held onto the notes you had been giving about your new project, almost feeling scared to glance at the papers.

You already knew what they'd say. The mistakes they'd speak of.

Because you were already familiar with the mermen, who had recently been caught by the facility. You freed them all those years ago out of shame and sympathy. And you paid the price, your unpaid labor bordering on slavery. Your choice had been death or continuing their research, and after looking down a gun barrel once, you decided to invest in your studies instead, the company willing to further your education and allow you to continue testing and working with the poor creatures they kept here—albeit with supervision.

"Talent like yours shouldn't be wasted," your supervisor recited the words of the facility owner, but they sounded like a warning coming from him rather than encouragement. 

When he finally stopped at the door farthest down the corridor, you were appalled to see the number on it, finding it less than funny that they'd assigned the same room from years ago as your new laboratory again. All these little digs they made at you never let you forget that they were still angry about what you did to sabotage the facility—as if you could ever. These digs were just there to make you miserable and establish who your life belonged to. You were replaceable, but you wouldn't get out of this alive. If you wanted to survive and have even the slightest chance of escaping this place of horrors one day, you'd have to obey. 

"So do better this time," your supervisor said, smiling down at you smugly as he pushed the door open, the heavy metals screeching with cold, metal bitterness. Bastard, you thought, walking inside the laboratory. The grate floor spread above the large pool beneath your feet throughout the whole room, making your steps audible as you entered. The water was calm, undisturbed—suspicious.

"Oh, also, this one's been really angry ever since we brought him in. Better not let your head get bitten off! Would be a waste. You're too pretty to be a corpse just yet."

You whipped around with a glare, but all you saw was the smug grin on your supervisor's face before he shut the door with a loud bang. A mechanical lock slid into place with a whirring sound before everything became quiet around you. It was strange that they'd leave you here alone after what you did, but then again, there was no way you'd be able to recreate the mistakes you made. Even though you'd never receive any respect or sympathy from anyone in this cursed place, you couldn't help but stare at the metal door, plastered with warnings and reminders to leave equipment in the laboratory before leaving, wishing it would open again and let you out of here.

But that wouldn't happen.

It was ironic that they'd leave you alone with the merman you helped escape before, but the only way out was that door, and it needed a passcode to leave. One you didn't have. You'd eat, sleep, and work as they intended; there was no escaping this, even if the hope never left you. They didn't think you'd make it out alive unless they let you. Much less would you be able to help anyone escape again. Slowly, you turned forward, raising your head to look at the workstation on the opposite side of the room. You couldn't help from glancing downwards every few steps; caution was the only thing that kept you alive in this place.

But even as you made your way over to the station, your shadow undoubtedly making your presence known to the water, everything remained calm. The sound of machines running, keeping the pool intact, and the water bubbling from the pump were all that matched the sounds of your steps and breaths. For a "really angry" merman, this was suspicious. He must have known you were here, yet neither came to watch nor to attack you? You sighed inwardly, thinking about how much of a hassle it would be to actually get him to your examination area if you couldn't fish him out of the pool.

Once you reached the counters with the equipment, you set down the papers you had been given, spreading them out to scan over them. Even if you didn't want to interact again with these pitiful yet obscenely fascinating creatures, you knew that without any results from experimenting on them, you'd be stuck here for all eternity. The expectations were high that you'd find what everyone was looking for, even though the experiments were nothing short of cruel and disgusting. Drugs, surgery while awake, mutilations—those were just a few things you had watched the researchers do to these creatures. And for what? 

Eternal life. 

A fantasy.

How did you know? You were the one finding out that even if their life expectancy was closer to that of turtles, even the merfolks would die one day from old age. There was no such thing as living forever with the help of a mermaid's flesh, tears, or blood, and researching them brought forth interesting facts but not the results that this facility had been constructed for.

And yet, here you were, doing as you were told, trying to find anything that would be deemed interesting enough. 

You heard a splash behind you, making you whip around, trying to make out a sign of life. Even though the floor was raised a few meters above the surface and the partition was closed so nothing could fall in or jump out of the water, it was still unsettling to hear but never see the creature you were locked up with. You knew better than to show fear openly to apex predators like the mermaids, but it had been so long since they let you near one that you could feel its presence—or the lack thereof—frightening you to the bone.

But you had to keep going, no matter what. Turning back to your papers, you spread them out with shaky hands, scanning over the information the first-contact team had collected. A large species, presumably orca-related, male, mature, and chipped. The last fact had been underlined twice, emphasizing the importance of it. This merman had already been in the facility, and they tracked it back to when you had been foolish enough to think you could save them. It had been years. Yet he and another one, as you heard through the grapevine, had come back against any better judgment, making you wonder about the intelligence you knew these creatures possessed.

However, no matter how much information you could absorb through the notes, you knew you were only stalling time. The next step would be getting this creature out of the pool and proceeding with your experiments, but the fear made you hesitate. This merman had been starving for a week in preparation for his exams, and although hunger wasn't a good state for anyone to be in, it was thought it might help to be the one feeding them when you needed their cooperation. Like you'd do with an animal. Unfortunately, they were too clever to fall for these ruses most of the time.

You still had to try. 

Picking up some gloves, you went to the extensive double-doored fridge, pulling out the trays with seal meat on them. However, someone placed dead fish-heads between the pieces in varying states of decay. You took a deep breath, unwilling to give spoiled meat to the creature, even though you'd have to rely on it if you wanted to get anywhere. Picking out a slab of seal meat on the furthest corner of the tray, you just hoped it was mostly uncontaminated as you carried it over to the buttons that would part the floor into an opening from which the merman could be caught. 

You hated pushing these buttons, everything reminding you of the biggest mistake of your life. Sure, you saved three mermen from this cruelty, but look what your efforts got you. 2 of them came back, and you were nothing more than a slave. Nothing turned out to be as heroic as in the books you read.

The metal grated against itself as it parted wide enough to allow feeding. Smaller species could have stuck an arm through the gap, but you knew from the past that it didn't work for any of the large specimens. At least that meant you were safe from an attack for now, though it was debatable how long. The meat sunk further and further down into the blue, but nothing happened. You leaned forward over the gap in anticipation, waiting for any kind of appearance in the wet. However, when the water finally stirred, causing slight waves to appear, it wasn't a shadow that moved through it, and neither did it give any mind to the food. 

You jumped back in surprise, your body hitting the wall next to the buttons, when fingers lurched out of the water, gripping the ends of the partition and pushing them apart. Water splashed everywhere as the merman tried to widen the gap. The metal resisted initially, but even such a strong material bound to an even stronger machine relented under constant pressure. 

As the cool water hit your face, you finally snapped out from the shock, slamming your hand down on the buttons that would close the floor and set the machines into motion to work against the abnormal strength of a merman. The two forces rung with each other for a few seconds before the machine finally did its thing and closed the gap, but it felt like minutes of struggling, of holding your breath in anticipation. 

The merman held onto the metal for as long as possible, and you listened to the gut-wrenching sound of something breaking before he finally let go, the splashing of water dying down. The floor never fully closed, leaving a small gap not even your hand would fit through. Still, you were unsure if the merman succeeded in the end by breaking the mechanical device or if it had been his fingers that broke from the pressure. You wished you didn't have to find out. 

Sinking to your bottom, you took deep breaths, calming yourself. Heart racing and head spinning from the lack of a constant airflow, you watched the water, terror, and anticipation mingling. If the floor broke, it would at least delay your second encounter with this creature for a while. But if not, you'd have given it one more reason to be angry. You watched as his dark shadow—no, body moved through the water, his movements agitated, restless. All you felt was misery, knowing you were causing this distress to him again.

You still had no clue which one of the three it was, although the body was too large to be the smallest of the three "Lyr". Due to the experiments, he had lost a significant amount of body weight and muscles, as well as his mental stability. They would have put him down had you not freed them, as he became a risk quickly. You thought you were doing them a favor by saving them, but you had no idea if Lyr ever made it out in the wild. Judging by the quick thinking and the strength of the orca roaming below you, it was more likely to be either "Nerrocan" or "Krill". Their names were burned into your mind like silent reminders of your biggest mistake and greatest accomplishment alike. 

But the secret was quickly revealed when the merman finally seemed to calm down, swimming out into the back of the room for a moment and giving you time to collect yourself, too. You were still sitting on your ass, none the wiser, when you noticed black and white hairs emerging from further down the pool, slowly, cautiously drifting back towards you. As if on the prowl.

Surely he was waiting for another chance to wreck the floor open and try to escape. There was no reason for this creature not to be out to harm you, and you were such an easy prey, caught in this room with him. Your death wouldn't be mourned, but you also couldn't help pitying this merman, not knowing that your death would probably be his, too. Soldiers wouldn't hesitate to shoot something that was stronger, more deadly, and had too much freedom if they had to, even if it was a valuable species to study. You wondered which merman it was, and feeling a little safer with the floor closed, you leaned forward, trying to make it out.

The most brilliant of red spied out of the water the moment you looked down at it. Unmistakably, like polished rubies, these eyes followed your every move. You watched your own muscles tense and the horror in your expression as you realized which of the three mermen it was before you saw your own gaze fill with sadness in his eyes.

Krill.

The reason you risked everything.

His brows furrowed, then lifted as if surprised, too, although his body stayed submerged, tense and ready to act. There was no way he'd remember you, was there? Despite your doubts, you raised a hand, giving him a silly little wave before addressing him directly. 

"Hello… again."

He said nothing, and you realized he must have forgotten you. It was better that way for now… even if it stung after all you did to help him. 

Holding onto the wall, you got back on your feet, not wanting to be such an easy target and so close to him. He could try something again, and you'd be at a disadvantage if you couldn't even walk. "I'm sure it's uncomfortable, but I need you out of the water for a while. You remember it, right?"

You held your palm above the button that would activate The Fisher, a machine that could detect and catch unwilling mermaids by itself. But you were still close to the opening, so any reassurance from the merman would have been nice to have.

"Go ahead, open that gate again. See where that gets you," Krill threatened, and you believed him. His brows furrowed, teeth gnashing as his anger returned, and you had to realize that he was no longer like the sweet merman you once cared for. Sure, he had been drugged and broken into submission back then, but he had still treated you somewhat kindly, gifting you rocks and following you around the enclosure like a lost puppy. If you didn't know it better, you two had been somewhat close back then, having come to an understanding despite your differences. That was not the case anymore, you could see it.

"You'll see, I'll get out of here, and you'll regret capturing me again."

That hurt. It hadn't been your choice. If it had been your choice, you'd have helped all those poor souls confined inside this facility, making sure that neither merfolk nor humans suffered the consequences of the greed of some rich people. But you had no choice in this matter. You never had. 

Pressing the button, you stepped aside so The Fisher could do its wonder. You didn't want to, but you had to. Didn't want to put him through the same torture again at your hands. But Krill had been foolish enough to get captured again, and you were foolish enough to still hold on to the hope that you could make a change in your life if you obeyed. This time, the machine parting the floor stuttered, and although The Fisher descended from the ceiling, it couldn't open. 

"You are a fool if you think you can capture me with that. Force me to play your little games again, Human!"

Even though you tried to ignore him, it was hard when Krill paced around the opening, taunting you. You had to watch the machines work and fail as the floor was stuck. The Fisher was unable to move as it detected the closed floor, and you wondered how you would proceed if the location became unsuitable to work with. 

With a loud crash, Krill threw himself against the floor, and you gasped as a wave of cold water splashed over you. As you sputtered, you heard the floor grating, the sound painful to both of you, evident by Krill trying to escape it by dropping below the water. But with the sudden opening appearing, the metal claws of The Fisher snapped forward, scanning and detecting where they had to go. 

Until you saw it with your own eyes, you could have never believed such a flimsy-looking machine could restrain the apex predator of the sea, effortlessly capturing him by his wrist, neck, and the space between his fin and tail. Sure, he could throw his weight around despite being restricted, but there was little he could do to hurt you unless he broke free. However, no mermaid ever broke free from The Fisher in your years of working here. It was that effective.

You watched as The Fischer pulled Krill out of the water, shiny droplets of wet falling off of him, elevating every muscle, every toned ab on his belly. He was glistening in the unnatural lightening of the laboratory like a precious gem, and your heart clenched with sadness, knowing there was nothing you could do for this beautiful creature. You had to cover your ears as he began shrieking and cursing, most of it in a language that you never bothered to learn as you'd be incapable of ever speaking it. Siren was more of a singing rather than talking in the first place, and though you liked to sing to yourself, you'd never learn it on a level that could match the skill that his language required.

As you watched him, the first thing you noticed was his size. He had grown, although the rough weight and measurements would be taken by the machine holding him in place. The time in the ocean seemed to have done wonders for him. His fins were intact, and the tag on his tail was blinking despite being such an old model. Since then, there must have been at least seven upgrades over the years, and you'd be responsible for changing it eventually.

Once he was dragged onto the research area, he finally seemed to calm down a little, although he glared at you, fury revealing in his eyes. The Fischer restricted his head movement, but his willpower remained. "You are truly the worst," he sneered. "First, you let us go, then you capture us again. What do you think we are? Your little playthings? Is it fun to mangle us? You enjoy this?"

Testing his strength against the shackles, Krill twisted and turned in the hold, but you tried not to give his words too much attention. He was different from how he was years ago, and you had to say goodbye to the semi-good relationship you two had before, the precious image you had held onto of him. Both of you were fighting for survival, as pitiful as it was, and you had a crapload of tests to run before they'd let you get away from him and pity his fate and yourself. 

With new-found confidence as you watched him rendered immobilized, you returned to the fridge, luckily not encountering any more poor attempts at making life hard for you as you opened the drawers full of tranquilizers. There was yet one to be found that could entirely knock out these creatures, but they had a significant calming effect. And—as you hoped—pain-relieving. Because there were a lot of things you had to do to him that wouldn't be easy for both of you. 

Gathering the tranquilizer shots, various test tubes, tools, and your to-do list on a tray, you carried it over to a table closer to him, taking deep breaths to brace yourself. You were tense, your fingers growing numb from anxiety. You had been assigned to the labs for most of the years, rarely encountering a merman again after what you did. And although you trained for this, the thoughts of hurting him were twisting your stomach. 

"You might think it's fun for us humans, but I wonder what you were thinking coming back here. Maybe you enjoyed the treatment more than you let on, hm?"

Your voice was feeble, even when you tried to act superior. Bantering wouldn't magically develop a relationship between you two, but you couldn't endure the silence when no one spoke. It felt wrong—like he was going to attack you again any second. You needed to keep yourself anchored to reality, or you might have fainted. After everything you went through, you couldn't remember the confidence you had to allow yourself to do something as drastic as release three orcas from a highly secured facility like this. A shame, really. You deserved confidence as you were one of the best, after all. 

Even if you couldn't let him know, you still felt anxious about something happening. You returned to the original counters, providing you with everything you needed, put on new gloves after wiping your still-wet face from being splashed with a towel, and proceeded with a mask and apron to achieve even the smallest amount of cleanliness. You'd be unable not to hurt him at the end of this session, but you at least wanted to avoid him dying from sepsis as well as getting his blood all over yourself. 

"I do not," he snapped, watching as you prepared everything, seemingly having given up fighting the machine but not you. "I came back for Nerrocan."

"Huh…" you mumbled, intrigued by this information. So it was Nerrocan who came back here, not Lyr. Interesting. "Risking it all for your cousin?" you asked, and his eyes narrowed.

"I see you still remember us," he snarled, his lips parting in a cocky grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. Krill looked… uncomfortable almost. You couldn't blame him. This all must have been beyond uncomfortable for the merman. 

"And you, me."

Silence befell you two again as you picked up the tranquilizer, wrapping your hand around the container, surprised when you realized what you were doing. It had been so long that you thought you wouldn't remember your old habits. You used to always warm the drugs so they wouldn't be so bitterly cold when applied on the mermaids. 

Krill flapped his fin despite being restricted, and you looked up at him, catching a glimpse of worry as he looked at the syringe in your hand. "Ran out of the good stuff, eh? I remember it being purple, not that icky color," he mocked, but he didn't sound as confident anymore as he was before. 

"Should have come earlier if you wanted that. I heard this one has interesting side-effects when applied."

Rounding the table, you noticed his fin flap again pitifully, almost making you hesitate. He seemed nervous, muscles spasming in the tension of his restrictions. Stepping up to his hips, you felt his eyes follow your every step, almost making you feel reminiscent of the past. You took the integrated step upwards at the side of the research station, effectively standing above him now to see better. Everything was perfectly laid out so that your work could be done effectively. That's how you had to see it, too. This was work, nothing personal.

"You don't have to do this," Krill suddenly said, unusually calm but determined. "You're not a bad person, you saved us before."

This time, you did look directly at him, giving him your full attention for a few seconds of silence. His gaze didn't waver, didn't move away. He meant what he said. At least, that's what you were supposed to believe. Sirens were prone to lying to get what they wanted, and Krill did not want the drug in your hands, warmed up by your palm wrapped around it. But it wouldn't stop you. You gulped, inhaling deeply. It couldn't stop you.

"And now I have to save myself. Please hold still so I don't hurt you."

Diverting your attention back to his hips, you drove your hands along the slick surface of his body, trying to find any space capable of being squeezed. He jerked once when you touched him, trying to get away but ultimately pressing his hips up into your palm. Eventually, you found a soft spot, pinching the skin between your fingers. Krill shuddered, his body twisting, but The Fischer kept it in place. You'd be safe, even if you hated yourself for doing what you had to. 

The syringe punctured his flesh with only a bit of resistance, and you injected the liquid tranquilizer quickly, stepping away when you were done to watch what would happen. The medication used to be a fickle thing, sometimes agitating, sometimes drugging the mermaids out of their minds. But it usually took a while before it worked. Not this version, though. So many things changed since the last time you worked with the mermaids. But it was cruel all the same.

You listened to Krill groan in pain and relief at the same time. Pressure built, his body twisting and arching, with his spine bending uncomfortably for you as the drug spread throughout him before every muscle seemed to suddenly give out, relaxing him completely and making his body sack in his holds almost lifelessly. Worried, you stepped closer, searching for a pulse. It wasn't for another half a minute before you noticed the even rise and fall of his chest, his gills flaring even though he wasn't using them. The seemingly calm state of the merman made you bolder, although the fear of him faking something never subsided. You walked up to his face, staring into the clouded rubies of his eyes, surprised to find them moving around still, searching for something or someone, despite being slower, less alert than before. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered, unsure if he could even hear you, but you felt terrible seeing what you did to him. Even if he was a creature that wouldn't hesitate to kill you, he didn't deserve to go through what the facility wanted him to. Reaching up, you brushed the hair out of his face, the strands gently gliding through your fingers without any resistance, almost as if they were a liquid defying all the physics you knew. 

Even after all this time, you remembered he used to have longer hair. It used to float above the water, coating it in strings of glossy silk. But now he sported a wolf cut that fitted him just as well. Part of his hair had turned white, with only the top remaining in the same black you were used to. You wondered if it was because of the experiments or just a natural change of color over the years when his head suddenly turned, his cheek feeling heavy as he rested it in your palm. Krill seemed as unaware of his actions as he should be after being forced into surrender by the drug, but it seemed to make the forgotten part of him that felt safe with you submerge again, the feeling almost the same as from the past. You quickly caught yourself falling back into thoughts of things long gone and got to work, cutting off both black and white strands with small scissors, hoping it wouldn't suddenly agitate him. But Krill remained unresponsive, and you pushed away your guilt to quickly store your samples.

Focusing your mind on your work, as there was so much to do, and you didn't want him to recover his strength before you had completed most of the preparations you had to make. You measured and cut down his claws, trying your best not to cause any harm to him and quickly storing the talons for further research. The size of his hands was massive, and you marveled at their humanness for a moment, driving your finger gently over the ridges and joints. Unfortunately, as expected, some of his fingertips were broken, smashed by the struggle with the floor grates. You wanted to clean and wrap them securely. But when Krill let out a long sigh, sounding almost pained just by your touching his hands, you immediately stopped, fearing his wrath upon regaining mobility.

You did further measurements on smaller areas like his hands and fins, everything that could be deducted more thoroughly by hand than by machine. Every time you came around to his head, you looked into his eyes, the guilt threatening to wash over you when they locked with yours, steadfast despite him being out of it, so you quickly moved on. 

While you were at it, you connected his chip to a reader, interested in the data that could be found on it, and removed the jewelry that hung from his body. It would only be a hindrance to your experiments, and perhaps remnants on the metal could determine where the merman was originally from. However, the weight of some of the decorations he had prided himself with—like his necklace of teeth—weighed so much that you needed to drag them over the floor, wondering how this could be efficient for a predator.

"So far, so good," you mumbled as you let the program run its course, wiping off some sweat from your forehead with your sleeve and looking at the situation for a moment. It had been too long, you couldn't really remember the exact procedure to which you should have stuck, but instead of giving your to-do list the attention to find out, your eyes fixated on something else—scars. Albeit not uncommon, there were a lot more now than you remembered, and you raised a hand to his tail, sliding your fingers over the scarred tissue, putting slight pressure on it.

Krill's body jerked immediately, and you jumped back from him, observing the merman. His head rolled forward in the restraints, tired eyes searching for you but unable to focus. 

"Not there… touch..." His speech was slurred, another effect of the new drug, but you couldn't help but smile faintly at him, seeing how he still resisted. 

"I need to count them," you explained, hoping it would soothe his mind. If he could understand it. You couldn't be sure it had any effect, but if you were in his position, you would have wanted to be told what was going on, you thought. "It won't hurt, I promise."

Measuring tape in hand, you placed your clipboard with an empty page on top of his body, moving from his fin slowly upwards and jotting down your findings. There were a lot of prominent scars standing out from his body markings, but even more smaller ones barely visible. It felt quite intimate to search his body so thoroughly, but it had to be done. Krill moved pitifully against and into your touch as if unsure where to go and unable to understand what was happening. Even if it made you lose your balance a few times, you let him, feeling bad for all you were doing. It was the slightest bit of freedom you could give him without risking your own head.

By the time you reached his chest, some clarity had returned to his eyes, and he couldn't control the sounds coming from him. You tried not to agitate him with pressure and touch, but you had to do your work. An arrangement of chirps and sighs, some grunts, and nervous jittering rang out, echoing through the rooms. Deep breaths pushed his chest out, and sighs bordering on moans shivered through his whole body. But you were content as long as he didn't throw his weight around and push you off the step and into your medical equipment. 

"Must you be so thorough," he slurred as you examined his chest, following the curve of his pectoral muscles with your fingers. You looked up at him, his head crooked to the side, still too heavy to hold up on his own despite the metal neck brace, but his eyes were clearer now, following you more intensely. 

"I have to, I'm sorry. I don't want it to be uncomfortable, but I have to document them."

Writing down your finds on your clipboard, you must have pressed it down a bit too hard on his chest because Krill's head fell back, a long groan escaping him, back arching again. "Sorry…" you repeated, the guilt beginning to eat you up, but he only rolled his head in the restraint. 

"No…" he muttered. "Not uncomfortable... I feel weird. It's hot. Make it stop."

You were unsure what to do, but there were only a few more scars before you'd have to move on to his arms and, eventually, his backside. You wanted to at least get the chest ones down before you would have to give him another shot of tranquilizer, as Krill was growing more restless every time you touched him. You wished the examination could have stopped there. That you could have released him and put him back into the cold wet, but you needed to finish this. Even when he started gnashing his teeth and twisting in his restraints again.

"What are you doing?!" he suddenly snapped, much more coherent than before, his head jerking forward, ruby-red eyes glowering at you. You tried not to let it get to you, tried to make it quick so he wouldn't have to suffer, but Krill wouldn't let it go. 

"Stop it!" he demanded as you inspected another small scar around his nipple. It was barely visible against the lighter-toned skin there, but you found it, grazing over the nub a few times while working out the details of the scar you needed. Krill was getting more aggressive with his protests, lashing out at you while many different kinds of sounds escaped him, and it was almost amusing to think that it was because of your touch. You couldn't help spreading your palm over his nipple once, letting the elastic of your gloves weigh down and rub over it, causing every muscle in his body to harden instantly. You shouldn't have abused this situation like this, but seeing him react so sharply, his breath coming out in a drawn-out hiss, was somewhat a relief. Knowing it wasn't all terrible, all cruel and painful. But you caught a grip on yourself quickly, working efficiently until you could finally step away once you had found every last scar on his chest.

"All done," you assured him, unable to keep yourself from grinning a little as he let out a strained but haughty hmpf. He was almost back to his new normal, which made you glad. The drug was awful, but it was good to know he wouldn't be broken down this easily. Your back was turned for only a second when you heard him rattling in his restraints, more clear in his mind again as it seemed. It caused you to want to tease him a little.

"I liked it better when you were quiet, Krill. You didn't react to every one of my touches as if I was trying to seduce you."

"How dare you! I can't believe I am back here with you as if you are…" The word seemed to elude him as he bit his tongue, and you turned to look at his face, so much tension in his expression that you thought he was going to burst. Krill wasn't looking at you for once, focusing on his own body. Walking up to him again, his gaze shifted from straight down back to you, a spark of something you couldn't pinpoint washing over him. Insecurity? Fear? No way. 

"Don't come closer again!" he hissed, tossing a bit more in his restraints, and you stopped in your tracks, subconsciously listening to him like an idiot. But Krill wasn't being malicious; something was wrong. Even though you two weren't on friendly terms, you could tell something was off. His gills were flared, pupils blown wide open. He looked mostly like the monster you had to believe he was, but there was a sense of panic that an apex predator shouldn't ever display unless something terrible was happening to them. And you couldn't ignore it, or him for that matter.

"Hey!" you called out, hoping your voice could ground him from whatever he was going through. Stepping closer despite his body thrashing wasn't easy. You had to be careful, but you weren't heartless enough to leave him to his own demons after you caused them. The drug could have had hallucinogenics, which would not only have put you in danger but Krill too. You needed him if you ever wanted to regain some recognition or freedom in this place, and he needed you since you were probably the only person in the whole facility who would do anything to make the experiments at least a bit more humane. You couldn't abandon him like this after all he's been through.

Instead of putting yourself at risk of being thrown across the room by Krill accidentally slamming his body into you, you stepped up to his head instead, waiting for the moment that you could grab onto him and hold on with all your strength. You expected a struggle that would leave both of you wounded, but the moment your hands clasped around his face, Krill went rigid, suspiciously still. Another wave of fear overcame you, your instincts telling you this was wrong, but you tried your best to stay strong for both of you. "Shh, shh," you mumbled, calming him, and finally, the strength in his neck gave way, and his head fell back. 

You two stared at each other for some silent seconds, and you rubbed your thumb over his cheek comfortingly. "It's all your fault," he uttered, exhaustion washing over his expression. You couldn't blame him for feeling this way, and you made sure his hair wouldn't sting his eyes by swiping it out of his face gently, still shushing him like a parent would to their child. He looked like he was in severe pain, as if he felt fear for the first time in his life. You couldn't believe it was true, but you felt heartbroken for him all the same. Even if he was called a monster, even if he was a killer and a creature or an animal. Even if he wasn't like you, he didn't deserve any of this. 

"Why are you doing this to me again?" he asked, his voice cracking as a wave of sadness washed over his expression. You had never seen a mermaid actively being sad. Angry, panicked, drugged, yes. But sad? You didn't even think that was possible. What could you do to soothe this whale of a man to the point that you weren't suffering the consequences of other people's decisions? Nothing came to mind, and it was awful.

"I haven't done anything yet, just precautions," you assured him. "You're okay, you're safe. I can't change what I have to do, but I promise I'll try to make it as painless as possible. I–"

"No," Krill interrupted you. "Not that. Not the experiments. This." 

You heard the restraints rattle, causing you to look up at his hand, his cut-down, broken claw pointing downward at his body. You halted your comforting, leaving your palms on his cheeks while looking at Krill with a confused look before you stepped away, fully aware that he looked after you, even forcing his head forward again to watch what you were doing as you stepped around him. 

A loud gasp escaped you as you watched the tip of his cock exit from its slit. The moment your attention was on it, it shot out inch by inch until its massive size stood proudly, pulsing and jerking above his hips, having emerged fully within seconds of horror and amazement. A glistening drop of pre-cum collected at the tip as you stared at the massive erection, the bubble popping and spilling onto his chest as you watched it, unable to look away.

"I tried to forget," Krill lamented from behind you, his body sacking in the machine holding him up before tensing and straining again, a pained groan escaping him while his cock flopping in the air, unbothered by its owner's distress. It only produced more pre-cum and jerked ever so often, the shaft pulsing with need. 

"I wanted to forget you so badly."

You forced yourself to look away from his cock, and Krill let out a brief trill in response, sounding almost disappointed. But he didn't shy away from your eyes, gazing at you, defeated and a little… desperate. 

"Help. Me," he breathed, and you let out your own shuddering breath at his request. You only ever wanted to tease him. You didn't want to cause any pain or suffering, especially not the sexual kind. It was unheard of that the drug caused the mermaids to act this way. But you were about to learn what caused this.

"Why me?" you whispered, knowing now he could hear you. 

"Because I remember every touch of you. Every moment we spent together. Every little piece of memory we made in this godsforsaken place, and I need you. I already feel like I'm losing my mind, and I can't take it anymore. At least take responsibility for what you're doing, this is your fault."

"Krill…"

"It's useful for you, isn't it?" he suddenly changed his tune. He looked angry, but the twisted desperation was unconcealable. "My seed. You can have it. Take it all if you must as long as you do something." 

His words were followed by a groan, sounding in so much pain, and you watched his cock jerk, hips lifting, trying to reach an unavailable source of comfort, a connection to something that wasn't there. "Fuck, I held it back for so long. You and your shitty drugs! I had it under control! I didn't need you at all—didn't even think of you!"

Another long howl escaped him, head rolling from one side to another. He looked completely out of his mind when his gaze fixed on you again, needy and desperate. You had no way to find out if it was because of the drugs, and that worried you. 

"I lied," he confessed, his breath leaving him ominously. His admission was completely out of character for a creature like him, which took you aback, but when Krill looked back at you, there was a different kind of determination in his eyes. A savage one—mad even. You wanted to run away, far, far away from him, but his eyes, full of drugged madness and terrifying adoration, didn't let you act on your whims. As if he hypnotized you.

"I thought about you constantly. You were always on my mind. I thought about coming back so many times, but I couldn't leave the others. But now they don't need me anymore, and I have you back. You're the only one left for me, please. Please help me. Help me, my mate."

His voice was sugary sweet as he pleaded with you, your heart skipping a beat when you watched this destructive, dangerous creature reduced to a begging mess. It wasn't what you wanted for him, and you didn't want the kind of control he was hovering over your head. But you felt the heat spreading throughout your whole body as he called you his.

"We're not mates," you tried to deny it, shaking your head, the implications too severe. "That's the drugs speaking."

"Gods," he groaned loudly, licking his lips as his eyes scanned over your body. "I wish they were."

His hips jerked again, impatient and in desperate need of release. If you were truly mates, that would be bad. It would be an instant invitation to be locked in this facility forever until you passed away. If anyone happened to check on you, seeing the state Krill was in, they'd assume the worst, delighted by these new possibilities. You had to find a solution before that. 

"Fuck," you muttered, and Krill groaned in agreement. "We're not mates!" you insisted, moving towards his side again. This was absolutely bonkers, but every touch seemed to send him further down the spiral—and so were you, even though you refused to admit it.

"This is strictly professional."

"It's whatever," he rejoiced when he felt your hands back on his chest, a little too happy about this smithereens of body contact for it to be just because of the drugs. "Help me, mate."

"Do me a favor," you asked, rolling your shoulders and readying yourself for what you had to do. You couldn't believe you were going to do it; jerking off a merman was definitely not in your job description. But if it would help with not being confined for all eternity as a pathetic mating buddy, then you had no choice. You just needed the push to actually do it.

"Say 'please' again."

Krill's lips parted in a disturbingly wide grin, red rubies sparkling as he looked at you, filled with a sickening hope and adoration that made you shudder.

"Please."

[thatmexisaurusrex]

What if in the big first disaster mini-arc of season 8, Tommy's helicopter crashes close to where the 118 are. Gerrard decides that the helicopter, and everyone that is in it, is a lost cause and that they shouldn't be wasting resources or his team trying to help anyone out of the crash. What if the entire team mutinies to go find Tommy, his team, his helicopter, and the patients he was transporting?

What if the people in the helicopter crash are scattered - some in the helicopter, some flung out of it? What if Tommy was one of the people flung out of the helicopter; lost and out of range?

What if the 118 manages to find the helicopter, only to see that Tommy is missing? But they have to secure the scene, they have to call for back up, they have to make sure everyone still in the helicopter is okay. But maybe Hen takes over the scene and tells Chimney and Buck to keep searching the woods for other survivors.

And Buck feels guilty that he's relieved that Hen chose him to go sift through the woods of this mountain for other survivors, but there's really no time to think about that. There's no time at all.

Lives are on the line.

Tommy is out there.

And in the woods, Tommy is hurt. He's hurt, but he can hear someone calling for help. So, he moves despite knowing full well that might be bad for him. He moves because he's a first responder and will always try to help someone in need. And he finds one of his patients worse off than before. And he feels guilt that due to bad weather conditions and how the fire in the woods traveled (did I not say there was a fire? There's a fire and it's threatening to reach their side of the mountain at any moment), he lost control of the helicopter (and I would like to think there would be another twist too, like the 118 find something was already messed up with the helicopter to begin with, so it was a miracle that Tommy could even fly it at all).

But Tommy could do this.

He could save this one person.

So, Tommy's doing his best. He's working through his own pain as he puts a splint on this person's leg, as he pops this person's dislocated arm back in, as he makes the split decision to burn a cut closed because he doesn't have the supplies and that was the best he could do without the person bleeding out during a hike. And he makes a fucking board out of low branches he rips off trees. And, damn it, he knows his radio is basically busted, but he tries for help, only getting broken static back.

But he is going through.

He just can't hear the other end.

But his words are getting through the radio - they're reaching Buck. And Buck is desperately trying to answer back, he's trying to far longer than he should, he should have realized the first four tries that Tommy can't here him.

But he knows which direction Tommy is going. Because he and Tommy hiked up this mountain before. Buck knows which trail Tommy is trying to get to, so it's a race against time - will Buck and Chimney get to Tommy and the patient before the fire gets to them?

And the answer is that they get there just as the fire does. Nipping at Tommy's heels, but it ends up being stopped by a water drop just in time. Tommy is stunned when he sees Chimney and Evan, he's truly stunned.

He didn't think anyone heard him.

He didn't think they were going to be found in time.

And Buck calls it in, asks for backup, asks for help. Chimney checks on the person Tommy did first aid on.

And Tommy.

And Buck.

They run to each other.

They collapse into each other's arms. Exhausted and running on adrenaline alone. And they're checking if the other is okay - both are very worse for wear. And things seem okay as they wait for help to get to them. Things are going great for Hen too, she successfully saves everyone else in the helicopter crash with Eddie and Ravi's help.

But then.

A tree nearby is unstable.

Tommy sees it just in time.

And Tommy pushes Chimney out of the way, only to be caught under the tree.

And this is bad.

Back breaking bad.

Body crushing bad.

Buck tries not to panic, but it's clear this has shaken him. Chimney is doing his best and is calling for more help.

Help gets there, help finally gets there. And they manage to pull the tree off Tommy. Buck rides with Tommy to the hospital, holding his hand. He paces, distressed, as he waits for the longest surgery in his life.

And Tommy? Tommy should make it. But he's out, he's been put into a medically induced a coma as he heals. And at first, that's okay. Buck can be there. He can make sure Tommy's warm. He can hold Tommy's hand and read to him, and sleep in a rolled in bed.

Until that stops.

Mysteriously, he's not allowed into Tommy's room.

He's not allowed any information.

He's not Tommy's family.

And Tommy's parents are, somehow, technically still Tommy's next of kin - they're in charge of his medical treatment. They're in charge of who sees him.

Buck tries to explain who he is.

They reject the very idea of it.

And it's devastating. Buck didn't think about this. He didn't know this could happen. Tommy hadn't spoken to his parents in over twenty years, yet they're just allowed to come and do this to him.

Buck doesn't know what to do. He can't eat. He can't sleep. People have to force him to do anything for himself as he wonders how Tommy's parents are treating him.

Are they reading to him? Are they spending time with him? Are they making sure he's warm? Are they doing anything at all? Is this all for spite?

Somehow, other people are allowed to visit.

Just not Buck.

Buck is blacklisted.

Eddie is allowed; Christopher too. Chimney, somehow; probably because Tommy had saved his life. Maddie, even. Hen isn't, they can tell something is queer about Hen. Ravi isn't either. Bobby was allowed at first, before he made a case to the Kinards to let Buck see Tommy and it went south.

But definitely not Buck.

And Buck? Buck is camped out in the waiting room. The waiting room he kissed Tommy in. He basically has grown a short beard in that waiting room, he hasn't been shaving.

And all Buck can ask when he sees Eddie or Chimney or Maddie is - how is he doing? Is he doing okay? Is his favorite blanket still on him? What did you talk to him about? What did you read him? How did he look?

And the nurses - they know Buck. They've known him for years. And some take pity on him one night, and let him at least near the room when the parents are gone.

And the parents file for a restraining order against Buck, but it was worth it just to see Tommy.

Tommy looked better than last time.

That was good.

That was what mattered.

And a few more days go by like that with Buck in the waiting room, unable to leave.

Until Tommy wakes up.

He wakes up.

He asks his parents to leave.

He asks for Evan.

And a band of nurses and maybe Chimney rush over and tell Buck the news.

And Buck is running.

Sprinting.

To get to Tommy's room.

He knows where it is.

He memorized where the room was.

And he sees Tommy awake.

And part of him hadn't realized that he wasn't sure if Tommy would wake up. That some little, horrible part of him thought that Tommy would never wake up and he would never see Tommy again.

Tommy makes a joke about how Evan looks like a caveman.

Buck laughs. And cries. And sobs as he rushes frantically over to Tommy and collapses into a hug.

Tommy holds Buck as best as he can in his state while mumbling fondly that Evan smells like a caveman too. Buck offers to go, get cleaned up, but Tommy holds onto him.

Asks Evan to stay.

Apologizes for his parents, that he hadn't expected them to come. That he is going to change his will as soon as he can.

And he just wants Evan there.

With him.

And Buck stays.

[ made a fic based on this on AO3 in my Denial-Verse series ]