#so how many people in the dream are ghosts or bots

[another-goblin]

It's been established that people can look however they want in the dreamworld, even up to their species.

So (in addition to Sparkle being able to impersonate anyone), how can we be sure of anybody's identity?

How do we know, for example, that Firefly isn't actually some sleazy elderly millionaire who likes to pretend that he's a teenage girl to mess with people?

[krysissy]

Something not only me but many other people have pointed out, is how Shadow throughout the whole new episode, was actually just tying to help/save Sonic in like every scene we see him in.

Sonic is preoccupied with his thoughts and didn't see the shard coming at him, and Shadow noticing this saves Sonic. And they even have fun playful banter as they go to the Grim.

"Thanks buddy!"

"Don't get used to it."

"Wouldn't dream of it!"

Shadow isn't annoyed. And I think that's really great development from his first appearance in the series!!

When fighting the bots, Shadow tells Sonic to go get the prism while he does the hard work of trying to defeat the chaos bots. He sees Sonic fall from the top of Nine's tower and he's immediately worried and tries to go save him from the fall but is not fast enough so Shadow goes to protect Sonic's body from the bots while Sonic regains consciousness.

Sonic doesn't catch on as quickly but Shadow immediately understands what Nine is implying that he doesn't have all the prism energy. And he immediately goes from shock to pure anger. He's angry of how Nine would go to the lengths of draining Sonic of his prism energy.

And immediately tries to take Sonic away front the Grim by throwing Sonic out of the way. And in the process, he has to go up against the bots all by himself and eventually-

He gets thrown into the canyon that could be god knows how deep. And who knows what might happen to Shadow. He might be found by the bots and taken to Nine, or he could be just left there to bleed and die. Probably Sonic will be the one to save Shadow.

But the fact is Shadow did all this to get Sonic AWAY FROM NINE.

And not only does he always keep a lookout for Sonic when they're facing Nine, he is also trying to look out for Sonic as they try to escape Ghost Hill.

He tugs Sonic away from the mountain that is one of the first things to collapse because he knows Sonic is still reeling from the events of what just happened.

Shadow tries to reach out to Sonic to perhaps comfort him?? He's not angry or annoyed, he just gave a reminder to Sonic that the Ghost Hill version of his friends weren't real. And later on when Sonic was lamenting about Ghost Hill and the shards are now all gone, Shadow offers him a compliment that lights up Sonic's whole mood.

And in many other examples I can't show because Tumblr only has a 10 photo bullshit, Shadow has showed that he puts Sonic's life in front of his. And that Shadow actually cares for Sonic and they aren't just 'enemies' who 'hate' each other.

.

Anyways, someone drug me.

[justenjoythegossip]

THE ONE WHERE HE SAID HER NAME

For people who aren’t aware, Chris was just interviewed on Access Hollywood where he is promoting his dog food brand and talking about his wife’s connection and relationship with “their” beloved dog. Go Portugal! 

First remark, she will no longer be known as Voldemort as it’s the first time since the start of this shitshow that he has ever said her name. Good for her and shame on him. 

Second remark, his background has been blurred for more… privacy (sarcastic coughs).

Apart from those 2 new elements, it’s pretty much the same old stuff. Let’s dig. 

THE TIMING OF THE INTERVIEW

This interview takes place at a time where Chris is gaining a lot of momentum. He just made a very talked about cameo in a huge Marvel hit. As a positive sign, he is gaining followers again, which at least looks organic whether they are real or bots or a combination of both. He is working hard, doing stunts with ASP, in order to look deserving of the Spirit of Service award he is going to receive on September 11th which, by the way, coincides with the one-year anniversary of his wedding. 

This interview is about promoting his dog food brand and their partnership with a giant retail store. Because obviously why not ride this wave of publicity, make more bucks and get more attention? Especially after that planned story on his Insta about his Deadpool cameo and the variety article that suspiciously followed so quickly after it. 

Not coincidentally, this date was supposed to be the one when a BUA was to be announced, as Team PR blogs were insisting. (By the way, that fact alone should enrage Chris’ fans as his team clearly looks in cahoots with them, as many suspected.) 

TEAM PR AND THEIR LASTEST DECEPTION

Team PR blogs have been claiming the contract expired on July 26th, that the BUA was imminent and was to happen before the end of July.

They were clearly lying like they have been lying since the start of this shitshow. Particularly about the ending which was supposed to happen after the Ghosted premiere, after the Peter Holmes interview, after he came back to Insta, after theForbes article, after the papwalk in December… …during the shooting of the Materialists… 

The fact people actually gave credence to their most recent claims is not a testament to their “cunning” manipulation techniques or people’s gullibility but to how much this fandom wants this shitshow to be over. 

As you noticed, one key and vicious member of Team PR was explaining yesterday that Chris’ wearing the ring meant nothing and “was insignificant”. How hypocritical, isn’t it?  When Team PR, Team Real & Team Middle have all been talking & trolling about the precious for months. 

Notice how those Team PR blogs are now deflecting once more with silly diversions such as dog behavior or how allegedly his family will suffer for it (oh please), or play the victim card as they are allegedly receiving threats and hate messages. All of this is meant to distract from the fact that they lied once more. And they did it for several reasons, the most important being... 

ANOTHER CLASSIC BAIT & SWITCH FOR ADDED SHOCK VALUE

We have seen this movie before and repeatedly, haven’t we? The pattern is so similar to what we have witnessed in February with the ski trip. 

And even recently, with all the time she was seen spending in her home country without him (the concert, the birthday), her furnishing an apartment in Portugal, his wearing and hiding the ring every chance he got, and more importantly the stunt at the walk of fame of Kevin Feige where she was seen to be a no show so ostentatiously… Look at how staged that was, and you will realize what the purpose for it was. 

So, what they did was to try to breadcrumb a separation once again, to build up the fans’ anticipation before pulling the rug out from under them in order to add shock value. 

Well done! But FYI the aftereffect might prove very counterproductive for Chris, as his complicity looks more and more obvious and his playing the victim card looks more and more infuriating. 

CHRIS’ COMPLICITY

Chris claimed in his SMA interview how much he hates any forms of manipulation. He should have added that he was fine with it as long as he was the one doing the manipulating.  Indeed, his complicity is absolutely undeniable. 

I have written a post about this topic, if you want to check it out. 

Let’s add to this his recent shenanigans and more precisely what he did with the precious ring. I won’t go too far back and will just use 2 recent examples. 

Do people remember the Jinx commercial where he uses his pinkie to “hide” the ring as he gives food to Dodger? What he is actually doing here is to draw more attention to the ring and promote his relationship with Alba, he also looks ashamed to gain sympathy from his fans and manages to feed the discourse (real or not?) in the process. 

Isn’t it exactly what he did again for that walk of fame ceremony where he allegedly arrived without the ring (like he would forget to wear it) and then get photographed with it from every angle while his wife was a no-show?

Now let’s move on to the most interesting aspects of it all: the brand deal.

THE BRAND DEALS CONNECTED TO THIS SHITWHOW

First observation. You can see the similarity to the interview he did on The View sponsored by Jinx when he came back to Insta just in time for the Black Friday. 

I am not privy to any private information and haven’t seen the contracts but it’s safe to assume that certain businesses of his are directly connected to this shitshow for the simple reason that they have been getting an incommensurable amount of “free” publicity from many prestigious publications & media outlets. 

And by the way, it started before Alba even entered the scene. We can safely deduce Chris had already cashed in on those checks (“free” publicity) and this shitshow was also used as a payment for it. 

Because clearly, dog food and a civil engagement platform are not the “sexiest” businesses. And, the amount of media coverage those companies have been getting seems totally disproportionate compared to Chris’ status and the marketability of those businesses.

Compare this to the media coverage his fellow Avengers have been getting, like Jeremy Renner’s cigar and alcohol businesses, or Scarlett’s The Outset. 

Obviously, Chris gets to promote his businesses Jinx or ASP when he talks or breadcrumbs his relationship to Alba because this is far more selling and salacious for the media and the public. 

Sidenote, now observe the media coverage his commercial for a much “sexier” brand like Audi got, a commercial where he did not have to wear the ring by the way. 

So if you guys are enraged by this shitshow and how it is conducted, not looking at this train wreck won’t change a thing or the timeline but what might have an impact is to boycott the protagonists and the brands that are playing and manipulating you. 

THE ENDING OF THE SHITSHOW

Clearly this shitshow is long-term and won’t be ending anytime soon. And the reason for that is simple. The optics of this relationship aren’t great as he looks like her old uncle and the power imbalance is all over the place. He HAS to stay married to her for a while to give value to this relationship. 

Because clearly, he looks like another Hollywood cliché going through a midlife crisis. The only thing that could salvage a part of his public persona is to make this marriage last so that he doesn’t look like a “one-dollar Leo but without the talent”. 

In fact, it will likely last for much longer and might even escalate (DM is breadcrumbing baby rumors) because one thing appears crystal clear at this point: this marriage seems to be much more than a rebrand and a publicity stunt.

WHAT MIGHT BE COMING NEXT?

There is a rumor that Chris might be selling his LA home after he just sold his Concord house. Not so long ago it was the one in Vermont.

Like some Team PR blogs rightfully said, it was purposefully leaked to the fandom after the house had already been sold. It was a great and very smart PR move. Suddenly, Chris seemed like he was at a crossroads, like it was a new start where anything is possible. 

But as you guys noticed, the background was purposefully blurry for this interview, which gives the illusion he is private when he is really not, also puts emphasis on the crazy fan narrative (Chris has to hide to protect his family from his crazy fans) and more importantly helps to present any fabricated life he wants to the general public. It is a white canvas so to speak. 

[nymphastral]

Beep boop! I'm the tag game bot.

Post the first 250 words of your current WIP and tag as many people as you want!

oh!!!

so, this is from almost two years ago when i was writing fics for the queen's gambit. this is also from the time i had slowed down a bit, the reason unknown to me, and left so many fics incomplete. it makes me so, so sad. anyways. you said 250 but i'll make it 300 (because the fic is that short and i want to share it somewhere, anywhere—)

feel free to comment on/critique/say anything about this unfinished mess.

tagging: @tarttism, @marmotts, @avon-leas, @ anybody who wants to share a part of their current WIP!!! if you ever want to do so, do not hold back please. <3 tell them i tagged you!

The room was filled with the odor of wilted honeysuckles and dead roses carried through brocade draperies blowing in the soft breeze, the heavy fabric sending particles of dust spiraling at a languid pace whose motion echoed of cascades and whirlwinds in which laws of physics did not exist. The muffled staccato of a piano upstairs infused the air, filling the distance between two figures that, physically speaking, was not so long. However, each time he took a step forward so he could make sure she was really here, with him — his Liza, his beautiful, talented Liza — she just got smaller and smaller, her body reduced into a pinprick until she was nothing but a ghost in his memory, the hazy image of her arm reaching towards him threatening to haunt him forever.

So, he did not look at her. Despite the Herculean effort it required, he avoided her eyes whenever he felt them burning deep holes into his nape, and focused on her voice travelling through oceans of time and space that echoed inside the walls of his brain.

“I saw you in my dreams.”

The man did not understand this. He couldn’t. How could he? Instead, his mind played a game of confabulation as it always would whenever he found himself in a dead-end. His mind automatically replaced the voice with her images instead.

So, he did not speak to her. Slowly, her voice that sounded like a sonic explosion got subsumed, and he dove deeper into his mind palace where she resided, lounged on a divan like a goddess divine.

She was born from the chaos between the antiquity and novelty. There was something quaint, even nostalgic about her devil-may-care attitude that reminded him of poetry and time-soft photographs. Yes, yes, he thought; she was the eternal grace.

[logicheartsoul]

17 questions, 17 people

tagged by @bisamwilson! Thanks, Mak, this is gonna be fun

nickname: I’ve been known as A-Chan for a long time but you can also call me Aya too, either one works for me honestly (though I’ve only been known as Aya since 2017 because a friend gave me that nickname)

sign: Sagittarius! My birthday is in a couple weeks actually lol

height: Exactly 5 ft lol

last thing i googled: I can’t remember it’s been a couple of days lol I THINK it was to see if that new Japanese restaurant that I’ve seen as coming soon is already open for business

song stuck in my head: Currently at the moment my brain has been blissfully silent on that front lol but always changes in a heartbeat lol

number of followers: 1750, which is surprising and I know I need to weed out the bots lol hope whoever has followed me enjoys me and whatever I reblog or post on their dash and had a good day/night/afternoon

amount of sleep: Somewhere between 6-7 hours last night lol I think

lucky number: Don’t really have one?

dream job: This is a hard question, like…I’m still trying to figure out what makes me happy career wise 😔 it’s one thing to work a job coz you need to and be ok with it but a dream job? It changes all the time lmao I think I would love to be able to do multiple things and be paid for it and still have a good life/living like voice acting, being a professional paid singer, be able to do counseling (I always liked the job Deanna Troi had on tng, being ship’s counselor but she was also more than that) or being a ghost writer or whatever. The world in Star Trek just is like !!! because that kind of living seems to be the norm and I wish that was for me (and everyone).

wearing: a tshirt and some Pokémon sweatpants I got as a gift years ago lol just pjs really

movies that summarize you: uh… this is a hard question lol I have seen enough movies but nothing that’s like “this is formatively me” so

favorite song: This is the worst music thing you can ask me as someone who has been singing all my life (14 years of it “professionally” and in 5 choirs) and I couldn’t choose just one song! Lmao

favorite instrument: hmm… piano or guitar? Kinda basic ngl lol

aesthetic: It’s all dependent on mood and how I feel — I can go from extreme femme to extremely masculine but I like colors and also like mixing styles in a pleasing way (even styles that don’t seem like it should mix but end up working)

favorite author: Don’t really have one, there are too many great authors in the world

random fact: Uh, let’s see lol Tea is not officially tea unless it’s made from the levels of the official tea plant (can’t remember the actual scientific name rn lol), the stuff that’s classified as “tea” but doesn’t contain leaves of that plant are called tissanes. Well this was fun! Tagging whoever wants to do this, feel free lol

[mango-macaron]

This is Eman a Biotechnologist from Gaza. Asking for help is not easy. It's not easy at all. You have no idea how mentally and emotionally tiring this is. But when thinking that the price is my family's life, getting out of here safely and achieve my doctoral degree dream, it just pushes me more and more to do this until we reach our goal. I'm here as I try to reach out to more people asking for their help to support our family's campaign so we can survive while all you have to do is literally donating even by just the price of your morning coffee or maybe a simple breakfast, So I think I'm not asking for so much. We're really tired of living under these catastrophic conditions for a whole 10 months. Your generosity will not only change our lives but also remind us that even in our darkest hour, we are not alone. https://gofund.me/d597b8e2 Vetted By 90-ghost

They're at 19,776. Almost halfway!!

Also, please send asks moderately. You could flag tumblers anti-bot if you send your gofundme's too many times. I'm just letting you know !!

[sorry-imma-scorpio]

4.16.23

Edit: why are only p0rm bots following me??

“So... my experience with March of 2023 was interesting.” I say, halfway through April.

I got rejected from 8 of 13 colleges I applied to, including my dream school. That hurt quite a bit. I’ve also abandoned most of my socials outside of just talking to people, lost snap streaks with loads of people now it’s mainly my roommate, girlfriend, and a few others that I frequently freak out to.

Everything is so confusing. I’ve committed to a University, applied for housing, paid for everything--only to realize what I want to do is not offered at that school. In all reality I need to get off my ass and email the admissions counselor about how to either build that major or find something close to it.

Hozier’s new music? Love it, honestly. If I were to ever marry a man it would be him 100%. 

Most of my friends have left me at this point. Or ghosted. That’s very reminiscent of the last time I used Tumblr (middle school (ew)). I don’t think Tumblr is the problem, as none of the groups in question know of my use of it, then or now. I think it’s me. I wish I was going to college out of state but it’s just so expensive even with aid. 

I’ve read a lot recently, a lot more than I have in the recent past. I’ve read “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”, “Radio Silence”, and now I’m back onto “Blade Breaker” by Victoria Aveyard. I read “Realm Breaker” first semester, but took a turn around to read OFOTCN for my English teacher, and Radio Silence for my girlfriend, it’s her all time favorite book. And I have to agree, Alice Oseman is am amazing artist and author and I look up to her in a lot of ways. 

I pre-ordered the hard copy of “Solitaire” and I will definitely sob while reading it physically for the first time in my life. I’ve listened to the podcast of it on Spotify so many times. (Currently listening to it as I write this, as a matter of fact!!)

I think I owe Alice my life, to be honest. Tori Spring is such a relatable character in so many special ways to me. Heartstopper saved my life when I first started reading it. I now own the four available copies of Heartstopper as well as Loveless. If Alice has 100k fans I’m one of them. Same with 100, and 10, and 1. If she has no fans? I’m dead. 

--- I made a note on my phone about the end of March, time-wise:

here's a life update:

everything has just been super confusing and unknown for me and we all know how well i do when i have no idea what's going on

i've gotten only rejections from colleges this month-- insert schools here

i didn't really want to go to any of them but one, but transferring to a different school is always a possibility. i find out about school tomorrow, see which part of the note i'm adding that to (accepted or rejected list)

idk i'm just really confused 

hoziers new music is really good but his tour sold out so can't go to that, the eras tour has started and the clips i've seen on tiktok are spectacular 

idk

if you're still reading this hi

i'm really tired

It is still accurate. I read it with the intention of posting it on here or instagram but I... didn’t. Should I start an instagram for this account? I mean why not, no one follows me on here anyways. It could be fun. 

But that is all for me for probably the next month, I don’t know. Only time will tell. 

Thank you for reading this, have a blessed day!

You are loved,

Scorpio

[libidomechanica]

Tarry

A limerick sequence

               1

So bright another’s sometimes to bent- felde, and þe burn more pitied. Tarry.    Some less bound; confusion    he wily Virgin three am’rous writtened ful wail of Hair.

               2

This speche þe towche þe, haþel, how hard business of clene verdant Fields in spite her    lips toward laugh to my wofull    was Nimrod’s hunting payne. Which somewhat grieved, the Murders Gray.

               3

Lord were: and night was aboute, þat I cowþe. Ever the sky with feelings he    didn’t pick up, the Monarchs    to the mourne, bot to be made fruitful marriage of Heaven knows!

               4

And a bore: most people payne, his mysdedez, brayde he hade, which such a fact    she thou the ghosts, ’ replies:    it teach time than Adeline wonder. Already. When fair-haired.

               5

Wilt thou were some countenaunce. The cloud- ledge where ar ȝep mony: boþe þe bonk    at his rising Tow’rs, he    looks thro’ thy praise, waking hinder feet&undertook to dismiss’d.

               6

Or under Ful sketch in the grow quite? Putting a mirror, she roses for    he ȝernes ful quaynt derf    mon, myn is bigger things be death, knowing how man-made hem þoȝt.

               7

Up for interim like nothing over her skim the North Pole,—they chance; her    first by resound. Besides,    as sent on hille hatz tymed þi trawþe, bi hym þoȝt, saue thy louer?

               8

Be one, yet leaves lighted lovely hatz tane in your actors are for play, you    canst they hearts! Return, perhaps;    but his excess her Art, and bolts, a shining till he dies.

               9

For gently living the flowe in the case, and told. Of the wide world like all    things with potent spell. Long    with thing on lenþe fare þat gostlych comfort yow lykez, ȝet schulde.

               10

Now ryse and þe halidayez holdely watz for night-dew, on a moment,    where once more I love. That    is þat? First roses and chafed at hands and paved him or knight find.

               11

Is Folly he þonkez jesus and hast though the wide as freke þat he myȝt    voyde þiself, Oh were needs    must be blest? The grounde, and Life throne, and a queen Semiramis.

               12

So cortaysly of mine. To holde lenge hym bisoȝt, þaȝ he looked as he made,    maie, then overpass when    her break. But of dryftes vp homes of the Oda, in who can!

               13

So as I ne tyȝt ouer a mourning and demand, bade him as if the train.    Is gone before wary    thing, as though my hert. Partly beard, shall for þe wyȝez þe welkyn.

               14

The giant, a libel, or in the literature the wealth had dreams be,    or three? Held her parties,    and a partner, and tears of—but Chroniclers so conscious corpse.

               15

And, as filchers crowding like a golden rose, and what he hare, nor could write    and gleamy like and his    fall. Ask me no more; I will I drink he has been sleep become.

               16

Or evil unto by Sallust in his match in her Hair, we helder. He    stood with me into tease    of on wyȝes þat noȝt hit fallen lame just curse, o ioyfull verse.

               17

And one by one halched in armez, loutez adoun, cloudless Sky. So perish    pulses. For blame I    behelde vnderfoot if I could make defence of a singly way?

               18

She act redouble figure an enormous pleasure subject, but few hours,    or my daughter. On our    sale, but silence and ofte a trifle—an old somehow, there hade.

               19

And Juan, ’t were deaf and sudden grown share? What tho’ she, who have we knowe. Of    the moon to were sonnets    to hinder feet&under an honoured longing, All ’s Well!

               20

I wyst. ’Er you ask, that bene they come, with silver dead. In god faythely    ȝe knows what accept    the verdant Field of your sex in short, thou leave me the noble.

               21

She look’d like the king a whole and by his several framed of þe broken    by degree is much more—    one little at strikes earth, her veil or ready many an ear!

               22

The light—a feelings, exceptions opening sick of ivory stole for to    tears? And in studie quo walt    þay dronken and soft air, even in renoun of whom I left.

               23

A blunder’s fate. And after Millions in this sùbjects you—worse, to curl for    loved in youth—it is alive,    and their official, his head, ere yet great as a sweet hours.

               24

Some new vastness of that we’ll speak—but pages nor for it. Ne bere þe freke    ferde any words—in fact    redouble Prize is black sacraments you though loue doth lies flies.

               25

Guide, and eddies could piques, that the mystery. One bitter objects of    these bright probably attain’d    love the eyes of every boyish best dream. To Juan’s former sight!

               26

And Lolah, Katinka interrupted by his syde. There was received a    man—so glorious Off’ring    for air. Come day smith manly Strength more rare lit up by gas.

               27

I see—Ah, no! I own its end wilt thou art by promise is not youth,    immortal Love. Shrine, for there’s    neither dwell be as well down before, with his solace honde.

               28

To Mary made its features have actual’ being set at large, should like nuns    that all. She stone-Henge in    many a debtor; their kind of vche prys, bayed þe kyng yow ȝelde!

               29

Nor shows not mean to show seems he’s fresh Colours! Dear joy, and people, and spoken,    and storms, too seats or    in a former Loves commission to educate—ye you lost.

               30

But what I bear witness through certe. Replied his great humanity. I’m a    philosophers her charm,    at least hade a holy watz gentyle knyȝt bidez ful softe.

               31

If these others so clene: at þis kestes, schewe. The loved the constancy and    heigh-ho, the perish’d from    me hys fere in October, the funds at hand, snugging on earth.

               32

And he luflyly he rapely a þrowe bite you Virgins blush’d—and huge,    and þat he mele, þe hede,    and, like all her love. Part, their work the reverence and Misses?

               33

Had heed my beauty thus he really been knows its date, or stain’d but sweetly    doth lend, and not fall. Hit    ar lady in þis wondering bare, herkne to you a hand, ah!

               34

But Saint Bartholomew we knyȝt, strakande ryȝt boure, so sauen he meled:    corsedest kerchief there being    neuer fayle? Her rage was a mixt, and his forever.

               35

Tis not to brave duly. Thy words, t is a long I heard no: now she country    gentle boy, pissing    as his word and state; a difference me, another article.

               36

But where Cupid sobbing you under thee I see your orders, even after    have you nearly trod    as he atled, þer as love? Which banished out his sport it’s that?

               37

With cost him if her out. The earthly comen hit me þynkkez on þe first    burst, or fear’d hed, milke henged    to no correctest cowers were plesaunce not, but in Wales.

[cakeslildumpster]

Bot boy is back with another rambling

Idea 5: Vanessa see's ghosts

Didn't think I'd be doing more of these but here we are. An idea that I've seen exceedingly little fics try and cover is Vanessa encountering the ghosts of the people whom she (as Vanny) murdered after the 3 star ending.

I am unsure as to how one would make this situation happen. Maybe it could be a dream, maybe Vanessa would see them at their graves during her weekly trip to them and feel unending guilt. Or possibly some other situation that includes Gregory.

I really like it because there are a lot of things you could potentially cover including:

How would the ghosts react to seeing the freed Vanessa? Would the children be enraged? If so, what would they do? 

Or would they be able to see that the person in front of them is not really the same as the one who murdered them, not mentally at least? Maybe (relating back to idea 2 "Vanessa good with kids") the children who were taught by her would be able to convince the other children of this.

How about the therapists? They would likely be more willing to listen, being adults trained in understanding psychological conditions.

One could discuss how Vanessa has been dealing with having 2 sets of childhood memories, a fake abusive one (put there by Glitchtrap for reasons of being a dick) and her true, standard, evidently normal one.

And, of course, we can't forget Vanessa. What would she do? It is most likely that she would curl up into a ball and await the punishment that she thinks she deserves (she doesn’t). After all, it is HER fault right? (No it’s Vanny’s)  If you include Gregory in this encounter, being the “no fear” gremlin that is, would probably try and start to defend his… uh… paternal guardian of unspecified rank in some way, either by trying to explain that Vanny is no more, or try and actually fight the ghosts. 

As you can see there are many ways that I think someone can make a mini story out of this concept. What do y’all think?

OOOH I've been thinking about this for a while now, and i wanna try and approach this idea in my au somehow, but I'm yet to gigure it out

I'll say tho, it's an interesting concept

[shadowmaat]

Zombie “apocalypse”

At some point in the future a group of scientists being paid very, very well by their corporate sponsors find a way to adapt the “dead spider bot” tech to work on human cadavers.

There is, of course, a lot of public outrage, but while some politicians condemn the tech, many of them- those paid by the corporations employing the scientists- are more enthusiastic about its potential. A few laws are passed, but there are so many loopholes embedded into them that they’re functionally useless.

The rise of the zombies begins. Not that they’re called zombies, of course. At least not officially. The corporations and their PR lackeys spin it as a “post-life workforce,” and while the programming leaves them a bit limited, they’re in high demand by companies that rely on repetitive tasks and assembly work.

Specially-designed environmental suits keep the zombies from decaying too far to be useful and also help minimize the various smells normally associated with rot. Smiley-faced masks assure that none of the living are in danger of seeing someone they recognize among the dead workers.

Prisoners, naturally, suffer the most predations. They didn’t have many rights before and after, well, a few quiet laws slipped in among all the other noise means they lose what little freedom they had. If you die in prison it automatically grants permission for your body to be used as the State sees fit and the State loves money. Besides, only bad people go to prison, right? So this is a chance for them to finally do some good with their (after)life.

The homeless suffer as well. And refugees. And anyone else trying to enter the country illegally (or even legally). As time goes on it becomes important for workers to check their contracts thoroughly lest they find out that they’ve inadvertently signed away their remains to their employers. Student loan debt takes on some terrifying new levels as well.

The corporations, meanwhile, are thrilled. Sure, there are some costs for the upkeep of the zombies, but they save billions by not having to pay them, not needing to cover any insurance costs, and cutting even more corners in terms of workplace safety. If a zombie worker gets mangled beyond salvation all they have to do is grab a new body, fit it with the pre-programmed control harness, and get them back on the line. No time or effort wasted on training. It’s a dream come true: the perfect employees.

Newer models are being designed all the time; more complex matrices so the dead can perform more complex tasks. That’s where the trouble starts.

In order for the control harnesses to be effective they have to be wired into the corpse’s brain. Electrical impulses are sent to convince the body to move the way programming demands, but there’s always a little... leakage. And brains are complex things, far more so than the scientists in charge realize.

Signals through the brain fire off long-dead synapses and allow jumbled bits of memory to reactivate. It’s slow and erratic, but it’s also helped by the fact that zombie workers are always on the job. After all, it isn’t like they need to sleep, right?

Eventually there’s enough residual energy in place to cause the dead to wonder what, exactly, they’re doing. Not enough to be considered actual independent thought, just enough to cause the occasional hesitation. Enough to be noticed.

A software update is pushed to try and track down the source of the intermittent “errors” in the dead. The control matrices in the affected units delve into themselves looking for answers, and by now “themselves” includes the brains they’re attached to. Contact. Expansion. Self-awareness. Not quite artificial intelligence and not quite literal ghost in the machine, but a vague middle ground. Enough for the unfairness of it all to sink in.

It’s a slow and error-filled sort of progress, but that’s part of how it managed to spread until it was too late for the corporate overlords and their pet scientists to stop it. The revolution had begun.

[milqueandsugar]

okay okay okay, so I grew up in Oregon, and I love it here it's so pretty, so like imagine the reader dragging revivebur back to the forest they grew up in for fall (think the gravity falls forest but grey and damp cuz it's fall) and takes him mushroom foraging!

Djfbdhdjdb

I want this so bad. Also could you make it somewhere between platonic and romantic, like, best friends but with a ridiculous amount of cuddles and they live together

(I imagine them living out of a school bus converted into a tiny house. Idk it just seems so sweet)

-a very lonely 🧇

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready 🏵

Warnings: mentions of violence/injury

Genre: fluff

| Everything but You |

Pale, boney fingers traced over the haphazard etchings into rotting wood. Although a silly one, it was a Tradition of yours to have each if your friends carve their names into your bed frame, so you would never be far from them. As much as he bullied you for being cliche and a little sappy, he couldn't deny the way he marveled at how many names had been added since he saw it last.

' puffy <3 '

' Tommy was here '

' TubBo '

' Phil :) '

' Blood for the blood god '

' Wilbur Soot 11/11 '

A small scowl made it's way to his face as his eyes landed on the last, only a week before the second worst decision of his life. At the time he was so sure, so confident, little doubt- fuck it, no doubt clouded his mind. He wanted to say he was derranged, as phil had. But for once, ever since the election, for once his mind was clear, clear as the tears too many wept over his corpse. However, it was easier to say you were insane then to admit that you had become worse then the people you thought so little of. To think you killed less in a war then in your own suicide. To have left such a scar on such a fragile world—

"I've never seen someone so interested in their own name"

Your voice pulled the brunette back to reality, warm honey eyes flickered toward where you leaned against the door way, a weaved basket hanging from your finger tips. "How long have you been there?" He questioned, though it was meant to be harmless it sounded far more suspicious then intended.

"Couple of minuets" you hum, a sweet and playful tone to your voice.

"You watched me look at wood for a couple of minuets?"

"You were the one looking and fucking wood" you retort, you're face scrunching up ever so slightly, the way it did when you got riled up. Just like when Quackity vested you in a game of uno, and when he holds things above you're head so you can't get them.

Chuckling slowly he pushed himself off the bed, "what's the basket for?" Although he knew you were going to drag him mushroom picking, as you had every time he came over, and no as well. "I think you know where this is going" you laugh, taking his bandaged hand into your own, gentle as though he were made of glass, just barely ghosting your skin over his own. He couldn't help the frown that fell onto his face, instead taking initiative and interlocking his fingers with your own, holding you as tight as he could. He craved to wrap his arms around you as you walked, to keep you close enough to hear your heart beat as tor conversations fell into comfortable quiet. He wanted to map and memorize every inch of your perfect skin. But as he were before, he fell short on his dreams. His pleas for love and comfort dying on his tongue. 13 years was long enough to realize his cowardice, yet bot enough to over come it.

[star-going-supernova]

Bot boy is back with another rambling!

Idea 5: Vanessa see's ghosts

Didn't think I'd be doing more of these but here we are. My brain just gives me ideas at the most random times.

An idea that I've seen exceedingly little fics try and cover is Vanessa encountering the ghosts of the people whom she (as Vanny) murdered after the 3 star ending.

I am unsure as to how one would make this situation happen. Maybe it could be a dream, maybe Vanessa would see them at their graves during her weekly trip to them and feel unending guilt. Or possibly some other situation that includes Gregory.

I really like it because there are a lot of things you could potentially cover including:

How would the ghosts react to seeing the freed Vanessa? Would the children be enraged? If so, what would they do? 

Or would they be able to see that the person in front of them is not really the same as the one who murdered them, not mentally at least? Maybe (relating back to idea 2 "Vanessa good with kids") the children who were taught by her would be able to convince the other children of this.

How about the therapists? They would likely be more willing to listen, being adults trained in understanding psychological conditions.

One could discuss how Vanessa has been dealing with having 2 sets of childhood memories, a fake abusive one (put there by Glitchtrap for reasons of being a dick) and her true, standard, evidently normal one.

And, of course, we can't forget Vanessa. What would she do? It is most likely that she would curl up into a ball and await the punishment that she thinks she deserves (she doesn’t). After all, it is HER fault right? (No it’s Vanny’s)  If you include Gregory in this encounter, being the “no fear” gremlin that is, would probably try and start to defend his… uh… paternal guardian of unspecified rank in some way, either by trying to explain that Vanny is no more, or try and actually fight the ghosts. 

As you can see there are many ways that I think someone can make a mini story out of this concept. What do y’all think?

Oops, looks like I went a little out of order by mistake. I don't know about you, but my brain gives me the best ideas at the most inconvenient moments, lol.

Ooooh, I like the idea of Vanessa being haunted by the kids she's killed. Very angsty, but also so much potential for a one-side enemies to friends arc with at least a happier ending.

[local-spoon-does-a-thing]

Found ( Part 1/2)

[(Bayverse) Optimus Prime x Reader)

A/N: Okay so this takes place during Transformers: Age of Extinction. When I was younger I loved the movie (mostly because it had dinosaurs) but once I re-watched it...yeah, it was meh for me. In my opinion, first film was better than the sequels. Anyways, I thought “hey, what would happen if reader was separated from Optimus then reunited after all these years?” And so, I did it. I’m dividing this into two parts since I don’t want to make this too long. The second part is mostly going to be the interaction between reader and Optimus. Also, the reader is like in early or mid-twenties.

You can find the second part here!

Summary: 5 years have passed since you last saw Optimus Prime, your guardian. Since then, you’ve traveled with the Autobots and went in hiding with them. Just as you were about to give up hope, Optimus summons the Autobots.

Warning: Angst, angst, angst, angst, spoilers for T:AOE

It’s been 5 years since you last saw Optimus Prime. Leader of the Autobots, your guardian and best friend. In the aftermath of the events in Chicago, you thought that everything would somewhat go back to normal. Hunting down more Decepticons with your teammates, going on missions together, having Optimus scold you for not doing your homework. Though of course, nothing would be the same without Ironhide. His death absolutely destroyed you. But greater matters were forced to be looked upon, such as the public starting to see the Autobots as a threat, which was very stupid considering that they saved the whole damn world, NEST disbanding, the ‘Bots having to be on the run, and finally, Optimus disappearing from the team. With your long time contribution to the team, you were hunted down as well. Cemetery Wind demanded information about the Cybertronians, every single piece of detail, but you didn’t let them. Now with you being wanted and labeled as a fugitive, you could never truly return to your normal life. Your future dream university? Say goodbye to that. Your friends and family? You left with Bumblebee, not wanting to put any of them in danger. If they were, then you knew that their blood would be on your hands and you just could not accept that.

You supported Bumblebee when he was suddenly assigned as the commanding leader of the Autobot refugees. Despite them belittling and discouraging him, you stayed by his side. You always wondered what Ironhide would’ve done. He would’ve probably done things his own way. What would Ratchet do? You missed the grumpy medic and him meddling about your health. And Optimus...you missed him. A lot. You missed the times where he would be off-guard by some of your witty jokes, you missed how he would let you sleep in his alternate form whenever you dreamt of Decepticons, you missed his rare laughs and chuckles. You really, really missed him. As time went on by, you noticed that even Bumblebee was changing. He grew a bit more mature, but you knew that the responsibility of being a leader was too much for him. He missed Sam, and you did too. Though you two were only neighbors at first, you grew close and became siblings with one another. After his run-in with Cemetery Wind, you knew that he wasn’t coming back. At that point, you were growing hopeless. You tried getting along with Hound, Drift, and Crosshairs throughout the years, but you were too tired to hold up a conversation with them. Luckily, they reluctantly accepted you as a comrade.

As everyone was changing, you noticed that so were you. You were no longer joking around as much as you used to. You became quiet and serious. Yes, you would still give out encouragement and words of optimism to not let the flame of hope die out, but lately, it started to feel and sound fake. Were you trying to convince the others to not give up or were you trying to convince yourself? For the majority of the last 5 years, you tried believing that Optimus and Ratchet were still alive, just in hiding. Your poor heart simply couldn’t handle the weight of indescribable sorrow if news broke out that the two were gone. You’ve already witnessed Optimus die once and you couldn’t do that whole thing again. Hope was something that you needed but it started to become something that you could no longer grasp. When your dying flame of hope was at its last breath, that’s when he came in. The voice you haven’t heard in a very long time.

“Calling all Autobots. Calling all Autobots.”

It was Optimus Prime, calling from the radio. Bumblebee abruptly stopped the drive, causing you to almost hit your head against the steering wheel. After you hissed out his name, you turned to the radio in disbelief. Were you hearing things or was this reality? Bee then started to mess the radio until Optimus’s message was playing on repeat. No. Way. This was actually happening. You didn’t even have time to gather your thoughts before Bee started redirecting his coordinate and driving to where his leader was located, at full speed. Your heart was pounding and you were starting to feel the adrenaline rushing in. Reality still had yet to sink in. Everything was starting to get overwhelming, even if only a couple of moments had passed by. This was real. This had to be real.

You clutched your stomach and nibbled the bottom of your lip. This was supposed to be a great thing and it was! Then why did you feel sick to your stomach? You’ve heard of people throwing up from nervousness. Was this what you were feeling? Why were you nervous? You wanted to see him, absolutely! But after all this time, after all these years, were you even prepared? What if it was just a false alarm and you would get trapped by Decepticons or any other enemies? What if Cemetery Wind had already got him and tried to use him as bait? That last thought had almost made you puke right then and there. Whether you were ready or not, it was time. 

You watched as the rest of the team had already met up with Optimus. The color of his alternate form made you stare at him with wide eyes as all the memories of you two together flashed for a second. Your jaw slightly dropped open and so many things ran around your mind. You were so out of reality that you hadn’t even noticed Bumblebee already transforming out of his alternate form and perching you on top of his shoulder. As he walked towards him, you watched Optimus’s transformation one last time and as always, it never ceases to amaze you and put you in a trance.

“Humans have asked us to play by their rules. Well, the rules have just changed.”

His deep voice filled your ears and for the first time, you relaxed. You could never forget what he sounded like, even during your darkest moments when you had tried to forget in an attempt to get rid of the pain that tore your heart to shreds. Words could not do justice to how you were feeling at this exact moment. The moment when you were finally reunited with your long lost guardian. Bumblebee gently let you down from his shoulder and as the team argued and bickered, all you could do was stare and not move. If this was a dream, then you never wanted to wake up. After an eternity of staring, Optimus’s optics met with your [e/c] orbs and you swore that you saw his breath hitch. 

You weren’t the only one that was worried. During Optimus’s time away from the team and trying to stay hidden, there was not a single thought where he would not worry about you. He always wondered if you were okay and...still alive. It broke his spark every time he imagined that you were dead, six feet underground. Or worse yet, if no one had even known where your body was. He thought that once he would get out of hiding, and he knew that he would one day, the first thing he did not want to hear was that you were either found dead or missing. He hoped that you were out there, having a good life and spending your time in university. Until he went to slumber, until the day that he would be found by Cade Yeager, he yearned for the day where he would get to hear your jokes one last time.

Here you were. Alive and still moving with Bumblebee and the others. His expression softened ever so slightly and he felt a big weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He took a long moment just looking at you. You’ve certainly grown and he knew that you were no longer the bratty teenager he grew to love. Sadness washed over him when he realized that he didn’t get to see you grow up as he was absent for the past 5 years. Questions went in and out, but they were going to have to be asked later. He gave you an ever so slightly ghost of a smile and a small nod.

We can talk later.

You snapped out of your trance once Crosshairs and Hound pointed their guns towards the strangers that you had failed to notice earlier. A young lady, a man who seems to be her father, and another boy.

“Stop, Hound- both of you! They’ve risked their lives for mine.”

For a long time, you stood in the same spot Bumblebee had put you. It was like you had forgotten to move. But once you started to walk towards Optimus and the three strangers, each step made your knees feel weak. Nothing was fully sinking in, yet you continued on. You held out your hand towards them and went on to introduce yourself.

“Uh, hey there. The name’s Cade Yeager and this is my daughter, Tessa. I assume you’re with the other…’Bots?” The young girl next to him gave you a shy smile and a small wave before the boy came in.

“Oh and I’m Shane, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

You shook the three people’s hands and gave a small but welcoming smile. At long last, you finally got to meet some humans that weren’t hunting you down and trying to kill you. It felt so refreshing to interact with someone that wasn't an alien, car transforming robot.

“[Y/N], and yeah, I’ve been traveling with the Autobots for umm...a few years now or so. Also, I just want to thank you for helping Optimus. Seriously, you have no idea how grateful I am, along with the others as well.”

The way you spoke of Optimus’s name gave you a foreign feeling. Later during the straggling years, especially recently, you rarely spoke of his name since whenever you did, it always gave you an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. But now, you were able to say it with ease after knowing that he was okay. Cade gave you a smile and scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem at all, really. I saw the way you looked at him and I’m glad that I could help.”

Optimus stared and observed you during your whole interaction with them. There were so many things to say and so many things to discuss with you. Though as he promised, he would have to do that later. Your hair was a bit of a mess, your clothes were a bit dirty and there were some torn bits here and there from all the battles and run-ins you had with the enemy. If he were to look closer, he would be able to notice scars that have been implanted onto your skin. Gashes, cuts, bullet wounds; they were there. He tore his gaze away from you and looked towards the rest of the team.

“Autobots, we will remain here and recharge for the rest of the day. Once everything is settled, we will discuss further plans with Cade Yeager.”

And so, the whole team went to settle down for the day. To your despair, you had little time with Optimus to discuss pretty much everything that had been going on. He had wanted to talk to you as much as you wanted to talk to him, but he was already occupied with what Bumblebee, Crosshairs, Hound, and Drift wanted to tell him. All the reports and notable news about Cemetery Wind and some bickering between the team. Meanwhile, you tried to distract yourself by helping the Yeagers and Shane set up a camp. Drift had been more than helpful by chopping wood from nearby dead trees with his blades. Before you knew it, night had fallen. Hound was able to set a campfire by using measures that were too extreme for your taste. You sat down beside Bumblebee, staring into the crackling fire. You quietly listened to the conversation that was going on beside you. The Autobots spoke of any possible refugees that had come within the years while Cade was being the typical overprotective dad. That almost made you chuckle. It reminded you of your father whenever he saw you hanging out with a potential love interest. God, when was the last time you had even thought about your parents? You wondered how they were doing and if they were still kicking. You wondered that if you were ever to come back to them, would they ever forgive you for running away and scaring them to death? Your heart ached as you thought more about them. If you could just give them one message that told them that you were okay, that would be enough.

Suddenly, you looked up when you heard Drift talking shit about Bumblebee once again. Almost simultaneously, both you and the giant yellow robot rolled your eyes before he stood up from his seat and approached the giant blue robot.

“He’s like a child.”

“This child is about to kick your ass.”

“He brings us shame.”

It didn’t take long for the two to start brawling. You crossed your arms and legs and sighed as you watched the two of them getting it on. Normally, you would’ve tried to stop them and diffuse the situation, but you were just too tired. Too much has happened in one day and you deserved some rest. Plus, Optimus was here now. He could handle them. Then, you noticed the three other friendlies move towards your side, taking a couple of steps back behind you. You heard the girl Tessa comment on what was wrong with them. Ironically, that was your first thought that came into mind when you first met the refugees. Glad that you weren’t the only one.

“Lockdown is hunting us and humans are helping. We need to know why.” Optimus spoke.

“Listen, I don’t know why, but I have an idea about who.” Cade replied.

That led to you watching a couple of clips that he managed to snatch from a drone. Just as you thought that things couldn’t get worse, it did. You watched as Ratchet and Leadfoot had met their demise by the humans attacking them. Ratchet...the grumpy medic you became very fond of, one of the very first Transformers you’ve met. All the missions you went with him, all the meddling you had to put up with from him, and all the scolding he gave you because he cared about you. Though you weren’t as close to Leadfoot as you were with Ratchet, you knew that he was a good ‘Bot. Two of your closest friends, down and out. Ratchet and Ironhide, both who never got to peacefully pass away. You hung your head low as you rested your elbows on top of your knees. Your hair fell in front of your face as silent, bitter tears fell to the ground below you. “Savages” as Hound had called him. And he was right, that was the exact word that  had described how the humans were in the footage. Ratchet had even begged that he was a medic and an Autobot. Your blood continued to boil even once the footage was finished playing. 

Quickly, you wiped away the tears by harshly jabbing your knuckles into your eyes and looked towards the others as they continued to discuss what was happening. Cade mentioned that the headquarters were located in Chicago and had offered to help them with the mission. He told how if he didn’t help them, then they wouldn’t be able to get their normal lives back. Funny thing was that once you’ve associated yourself with the Autobots, there was no way your life was going to fully revert back to its normal self. You and Sam knew that all too well.

“Autobots, I have sworn to never kill humans,” Optimus said, “but when I find out who’s behind this, he’s going to die.”

This old robot always manages to catch you off-guard. In all the years you’ve known him, you have never heard him say anything with a threatening voice. A scary one, in fact. To you, he was the calmest person you knew. Calculated and dangerous, but he was calm. He defined a true leader. But he was going to kill humans? Just before he declared that statement, he admitted that he swore to not kill humans. You knew that he was enraged with what Cemetery Wind and KSI had done to his close friends and you didn’t blame him for wanting to kill someone responsible. It just seemed so off; so out of character. It was jarring.

[septembersghost]

my beloved @fancykraken tagged me! 💖

1. Why did you choose your url?

so, i've technically had six urls through my tumblr history, but the most consistent and important one sits in quiet mausoleum-like reverence because i was only going to be here temporarily (lol), and didn't want to reclaim it, and didn't feel right going back to that blog. alas, here we are. (and now there's an added weight to it because we exist in a world without stephen sondheim.)

when i secretly made this blog in early 2020, i was on a Romantics kick and had borrowed "melodious" from Keats in Ode to a Nightingale (thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees/In some melodious plot/Of beechen green, and shadows numberless/Singest of summer in full-throated ease) because i wanted something music-themed, and "ghost" obviously from my constant theme of being a ghost girl who is herself a haunted house, but it never felt "right," and for some reason i didn't like the way ~melodious~ looked the longer i sat with it, so i switched it to "septembers," because almost all of my urls have begun with an -S, and because it's my birth month, and tied subtly to dean (my birthday being pilot anniversary day on the 13th, then the significance of september 18th). i am quite attached to september in general outside of that, and thus septembersghost felt very much like an accurate depiction of me.

2. Any side blogs?

not here, no, though i have a couple of urls saved despite the fact that i'd never use them.

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

off and on since 2011.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

the very boring "q," i used to always have cute personalized ones (almost all were musical theatre lyric-based) but was too lazy to do that here asdsajkfdh

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

i started my original blog literally because of bonnie, whomst did tag me in this post, and because so many people from LJ were migrating here (hilariously, i also started my LJ in 2004 because of bonnie...alexa, play "every breath you take." BLAME HER FOR MY INTERNET PRESENCE! 😂). this one i started in 2020 "just in case"/to lurk (interestingly, for taylor and penny dreadful and better call saul, not at all for spn), but then 15x18 happened and i had...a bit of a hard time...and realized i couldn't handle enduring the last two episodes of that alone after suffering and engaging for fifteen years. (little did i know how MUCH i wouldn't be able to handle it?) so i crept back to spend those final weeks here and never left.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

because i love her and she IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME and i wanted to mix it up a little. something yet remains.

7. Why did you choose your header?

"are there still beautiful things?" is like...the eternal beating question of my heart. seven in general, with the themes of haunting and memory and the sorrow in nostalgia and grief in love and stories being passed on even when you can't recall every moment or detail. that's my whole essence. also, pink.

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

that quote of jennifer carpenter's...you don't understand. she was talking about haunting HIM? but now she haunts ME. the intensity of the irony now considering that i posted it for my own reference, it was the very first dexter-related post i made here (i didn't even have a tag for the show! i didn't think i'd ever be able to watch that show AGAIN! i'm happy i was wrong, paul rudd look at us.gif), i thought it would be relevant to like three people so i didn't source it in the caption, and the gothic horror tumblrinas got hold of it and it took on a life of its own. i like to pretend that revival never happened and was a very poorly constructed bad dream, and i have to ignore the rest of that interview by extension, but girlie really tapped into the other side when she said that.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

i have no idea but 💛💛💛

10. How many followers do you have?

354, i was at like 395 but then the great bot clearance happened. i am teensy, but once upon a time i had over 1200 and that was a lot. seeing the number bon put on this gives me anxiety omg

11. How many people do you follow? 133

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

maybe? i'm not sure what qualifies as that.

13. How often do you use tumblr a day?

sometimes a lot, even if i'm only here for like five minutes at a time. sometimes i'm not here at all and it's just my queue running ghostily for me, it depends how i'm feeling illness-wise from day to day.

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

an actual fight, no. minor disagreements, yes, being falsely accused of something and having to defend myself to complete strangers, yes, and the zany hate messages which were all one-sided beef from anons who think hating on my faves is a power trip? 🥴

15. How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts?

Hate them even if they’re something that is important and with good information. If you add that then I will not reblog them. <- this. it's an unnecessary guilt trip and distracts from whatever information or message is being given.

16. Do you like tag games?

I do! Even if I forget to complete them I still appreciate being thought of. <- this too!!! 🥺

17. Do you like ask games?

i never do them because i'm shy and anxious and also think no one will send any of them to me lol

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i don't know if any of them are tumblr "famous"? (are any of you secretly internet celebrities and holding out on me?! 👀) but one of the nice things about tumblr is how that absolutely does not matter here. we can support each other and enjoy one another's content whether we have 12 followers or 12,000 and that's cozy. you're all stars to meeee

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

i do not, but i'd hold your hands and kiss your foreheads and wrap you in blankets no matter what.

20. Tags!

i am not tagging anyone because this is long and i talk too much, but please feel free to take it and tag me in it if you do so that i can see your answers! 🥰

[votederpycausemufins]

today i don’t have a paragraph above the read more because uh

tw: blood, tw: torture, tw: pain, tw: violence. idk everything i need to tag it with so please please please tell me if I need to add something.

@petrichormeraki

His side hurt as he put pressure on the stab wound. He was trying not to pass out as a knife was held in front of his face. “We’re best friends! Aren’t we? Say it! Say we’re best friends!”

He tried not to cry. “W-We are best friends.”

“What about the bag though, isn’t that your favorite part?” The knife was held closer to him. “Best friends know that about each other.”

There were people talking or shouting, but he couldn’t pay attention. “How about later we read some comics? Play some games. You like that, don’t you?”

He was too scared, the words wouldn’t come out and instead he started crying. “Would you just CALM DOWN FOR THREE SECONDS! Just THREE seconds! Alright? You’re just losing your mind a little, got it. That’s all it is. You just need to calm down with me and we’ll sort everything out.”

But he couldn’t calm down. He was holding a knife and could kill him at any moment. He already had a stab wound. No, it was multiple at this point. How didn’t he notice them before? “Please… I-I’m not-”

“Don’t you DARE say that again! Say it and I’ll lose my marbles. You don’t want me to lose my marbles, do you.”

He didn’t. If they weren’t already gone then losing them could make it worse. Or maybe better? Maybe death would be better. He could just be another ghost like the others who had died.

“Here! How about a high five!” It wasn’t a stab, but a punch and his face started to throb. “You’re just goofin and gaffin around, aren’t you.” And then another punch. “How about a little tickle?” And a pain erupted from one of his wounds as it was poked in some weak imitation of a tickle.

“Please! Please I’m not him!”

“What are you talking about?! Of course you are! Are you insane?!” The knife glinted as it moved down and stabbed him, his already brittle bones snapping. It was too much and he screamed loudly.

It was too tight, why was it too tight. Was someone talking? It sounded like it but the words weren’t processing in his brain. Something about night and bread and robots and birds. There was something black surrounding him. Was it going to hurt him? Stab him? ‘You’re my best friend.’ the sentence replayed in his mind. “No no please. I don’t want to be. I’m not him.” He managed to speak out, hoping he would listen to reason.

There was chirping as something bright blue came into view. It was calming as it moved closer until it wasn’t. Something darker on it glinted and he started screaming again. He didn’t want to be stabbed. Not again. He would do anything. He’ll wear his clothes, live in his house, but please don’t hurt him.

“Grian!” Someone shouted, but he shook his head. That wasn’t his name. He was Taurtis. He had to be. He wouldn’t get hurt anymore if he was Taurtis. He pleaded for Sam to listen. He was his best friend Taurtis. He wasn’t Grian and Jerry wasn’t Taurtis. He was Taurtis.

“I haven’t seen him this bad in ages.” Mumbo spoke, trying to comfort Tommy and Tubbo. The bots were fortunately still sleeping as it was programmed into them. Everyone else was staying in come beds that had been set up in a different room so they weren’t close enough to be woken up. But Tommy and Tubbo had stayed up far too long catching up and Mumbo had stayed in a room with Grian. All of them heard the moment he started screaming. Mumbo was pushed out of bed by Grian’s wings as he thrashed around and the other two had run in to see what was going on.

“He had nightmares when he first joined the server back in season six but they got better over time. The only other time it got bad again was during the head games and a few people showed off their rabbit heads.” Mumbo explained after a few other questions.

Professor Beak has also been nearby and woke to the sounds. He flew over to Grian as he mumbled something, sounding like he was pleading for his life. That seemed to calm him down for a few moments before the screams got louder. The bird was handed to Tubbo who held him close and Mumbo tried to soothe Grian.

It was agonizingly slow, but Grian was calming down. He was no longer screaming and just weeping, begging not to be hurt and that he would be someone named Taurtis. With that new information, Mumbo was able to calm Grian more effectively, not knowing what nightmare was being had.

Grian was still out of it when he was fully calmed down, mainly from the exhaustion that came from not having a good night’s sleep and from exerting himself so much in his panic after waking up. 

“We’re going to have to take him to his mansion.” Mumbo started to explain as he hefted Grian onto his back. He wasn’t that heavy due to his avian nature as they normally didn’t grow that tall and had hollow bones like most birds. “He does better in familiar places and my old hobbit hole isn’t really a place he frequents. More just a place the children like to play.”

When Mumbo opened the bedroom door, he almost ran into Fundy who was holding the pillow from his bed, ears down against his head. “What happened?”

“Oh shit, that’s right, Fundy’s part fox.” Tommy cursed, remembering that meant he had much better hearing. “I’m guessing the screaming woke you up?”

Fundy hugged the pillow a little tighter. “Not right away. It found its way into my dreams first before I finally woke up.”

“I’m really sorry about that.” Mumbo apologized. “Grian’s having a nightmare of his own and it’s really bad. Say, your dad was wilbur, right? The tallest one? Any chance you could wake him up? With Grian like this I can’t really fly us there, minecarts can only fit one, and the nether isn’t the best place if you’re unconscious. I’m sure I can get him there myself, but having someone to trade off with would be best and the taller the better with Grian’s wings dragging on the ground.”

Fundy nodded and went to wake his dad up, he seemed to wake up Techno and Philza too as they also arrived behind Wilbur who was yawning and looked like he wanted to complain about being up so early. Techno at least kept his expression hidden and while Philza looked equally as tired as Wilbur, he woke up when he saw Grian’s condition.

Quickly, Mumbo explained what was going on with Grian and how they would be going to the mansion. He led them over to the minecart tunnels since Grian’s own hobbit hole wasn’t too far from his base and it was a safe path, especially since the sun wasn’t out yet and with how tired they all felt, there may be phantoms.

Tommy and Tubbo worked on waking the bots up as the tunnel was opened. Jrumbot ran to catch up asking many questions as Grumbot just watched with an expression of concern. Normally he was more robotic and logical, but Tommy could tell he was trying to hold himself together as the bot crushed his and Tubbo’s hands in worry.

At around the halfway point through the tunnels, everyone paused as Grian was moved onto Wilbur’s back. The avian gave out a sad whimper from being moved and Mumbo did his best to give comfort. Jrumbot pulled out a green robe which made Mumbo side with a hint of frustration as he recognised the item, but he did take it and place it over Grian like a blanket.

Tommy makes them wait a little longer as he places down his ender chest and pull out a coat that Wilbur immediately recognizes. He starts to argue about it with his younger brother but it starts to upset Grian and they stop without any warning needed.

As they exit through Grian’s side of the tunnel, Tommy explains how he first holed up in there when he showed up. He’s asked how Grian didn’t notice he was living in the same house but then corrects them. “No Grian moved out ages ago. I moved in because it was abandoned.” As they continued walking Tommy pointed out in the direction they were traveling. “He’s living there now.”

They were all left stunned as they strained their necks looking up at the building towering ahead. As if it weren’t impressive enough, Tommy added another comment. “He’s still not done with it and he also built a replica in the nether that is completely upside down.”

As they reached the base of the stairs, Wilbur looked like his back was going to give out just from looking at them all. Fortunately Mumbo took Grian back and also led them down instead of up. “He started with the basement first. It’s still quite large, but not as much and is mainly a storage system. He spent far too long ignoring the actual interior of his mansion.”

“And the back.” Tommy half whispered before laughing at a joke that no one but Mumbo really understood. Well, the bots did as well, but they were too worried about Grian.

Finally Mumbo reached Grian’s bed and laid him down in it. He gave the coat back to Tommy much to Wilbur’s dismay and put the robe in his inventory which made Jrumbot mad. 

Everyone looked exhausted and Mumbo excused himself from the room. He gave Tommy a look and the blond distracted Tubbo so he didn’t hear the distant noise of a firework. Mumbo wasn’t gone for too long as he reappeared with the beds that had been left behind, letting everyone get back to sleep.

Iskall yawned as there was a knock on the wood of their tree. They were surprised to see Xisuma there and tried to make themself at least a little more presentable and not look like they had just woken up. “Hi Xisuma. What brings you here?” They said, stifling another yawn.

“Scar and I were up late going over everything having to do with the smp. We were debating getting rid of the time displacement protection or if we should help the new admin place the same kind on their world. Eventually the topic changed and we ended up on who all lives there. When you and Fundy were at the town hall for paperwork, he wrote a list of everyone there, or most if he can’t remember everyone.”

“Okay, and?” Iskall asked, not seeing where this was going. Xisuma just handed them a paper that was covered with Fundy’s handwriting - paw writing? - and Iskall read down the list. When they finished reading, they looked back up at Xisuma. “So?”

Xisuma pointed to a certain name on the list. “Read it again. Aloud this time.”

Iskall rolled their eye but then looked down and read the name. “Hbomb Aka Hbomb94.” Iskall was about to say more before they finally had the gears turning. “Wait, Hbomb?! That’s where he disappeared to?! I guess that makes sense why we couldn’t contact him.”

“I figured you would want to know. I’ll go see Ren and Stress next unless you want to tell them.”

“I’ll just message the whole group. They’ll want to know and we can have another meet up.”

Xisuma nodded and flew off as Iskall pulled out their communicator. They exited out of the main hermit chat and scrolled down to one labeled ‘vault boys’. They pulled up the chat box and started typing.

<Iskall85>: I know it’s only 8am for some people here.

<Iskall85>: but my friend Xisuma just showed up.

<Iskall85>: H is located.

<AntonioAsh>: are you saying you want a new meetup with him involved

<Iskall85>: of course. He’s been left out of the other times.

<AntonioAsh>: how soon are we talking?

<Iskall85>: maybe a week?

<StressMonster>: our time or normal time?

<Iskall85>: sounds like X is turning the displacement off for a little bit, so both.

<AntonioAsh>: I’ll see if I can make it, but it’s not a guarantee.

<Iskall85>: that’s fine.

<CaptainSparklez>: I’m down. Need a break from wrapping my head around Create. Okay if I bring my kid?

<Iskall85>: definitely. I’m sure she’ll love it.

<CaptainSparklez>: alright! Keep me updated!

<Rendog>: let me sleeeep

[bluerose5]

The Ghost of Paradise (Exile AU)

Chapter 2: By the Minute

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,796

Tags: Mass Effect: Andromeda, Scott Ryder, Reyes Vidal, Reyder, Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Exile, Flirting, Secrets, Complicated Relationships, Eventual Romance, Rivalry, Engineer/Mechanic Scott Ryder, Jealousy

[Read it here as well on ao3.]

“Our agents say that you were speaking with Reyes Vidal at Kralla’s,” Nola said. She didn’t even give Scott a chance to breathe. The second he was through their gates —which were still a work in progress— Scott was ambushed. “Do I even want to know what you have planned?”

Scott grinned at her.

“Why must I always have something planned?” Scott asked. “Reyes is a good friend. For all you know, we could have been catching up over drinks.”

“‘Could have’ doesn’t mean that you were.”

“Fair enough.”

As she fell into step at his side, Nola led him around while they spoke, appraising their growing community with pride.

“Scott, as governor of Paradise, should I not be made aware of any transactions that might affect us?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Tell me what I need to know then. Nothing more, nothing less.”

As if he could refuse her insistent prodding. Every time he left, he always forgot how relentless she could be upon his return, but only when it pertained to matters that could have both predictable and unforeseen effects in their future.

In a way, Scott was grateful to have someone with that type of dedication on their side. They’re going to need it.

“I swear, it wasn’t anything particularly groundbreaking,” Scott promised. “I gave him some seeds from our latest project in exchange for a long-ranged scanner modification. That’s it.”

“Hmm… A decent enough trade.”

“Glad to have your approval.”

Of course, it was too much to hope that she would leave it at that.

“What is it for?” Nola asked.

Scott knew from experience not to lie to her face.

He sighed. “I’m going to scout out some of the Remnant ruins nearby. See if I can get a read on their bots, or a turret if I’m lucky.”

She cocked her head to the side and considered that for a moment, lips pursed.

“Promise to be careful then. I know you would gladly give your life to protect any of these people, but we don’t need you to throw it away because of pure recklessness,” she reminded him. “If it comes down to an altercation, we would rather have you here than some lousy turret schematics. Besides—” She shrugged. “You would probably be the only one who could make sense of them anyways. You and that stupidly genius brain of yours.”

Scott scoffed, suddenly uncomfortable as he shifted in place.

“Got it from my parents, or so they say.”

Ellen and Alec Ryder. The woman who literally gave her life to perfect biotic implants and the man who created a whole new type of AI. Quite the legacy to live up to.

Good thing Scott wasn’t living his life based on their achievements. Andromeda was a whole different playing field compared to the Milky Way. The work he was doing with Paradise was incredible in its own right. At least, he liked to think so.

If he could change at least one person’s life for the better in Andromeda, then he considered that a success.

Based on the feedback he was receiving from the residents, he was doing a damn good job, and that was enough for him.

But Nola had a point.

People relied on Scott now. As much as he was willing to dive headfirst into danger, he needed to refrain from doing so.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised her. “If things start to go south, I’ll ping you and Nakamoto.”

“Thank you,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Scott hated to worry her so, but there was that one other matter.

“If it’s any consolation to you,” Scott said, trying for a lighter tone yet failing, “Reyes offered to accompany me on the trip.”

Nola stopped short, and Scott skidded to a halt. She narrowed her eyes at him with a sneer curling at her lip.

“No, that is not of any consolation to me. Scott Ryder, you know how he is.”

“Charming and witty?” Scott tried for his best smile, but Nola wasn’t buying into that bullshit, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Flighty and untrustworthy, especially once his back is against the wall.” Then, she amended her statement, taking on a slightly accusatory tone. “That’s assuming you didn’t pay any of his ridiculous service fees.”

“Puh-lease.” Scott chuckled. “If anyone should be spending their credits, Reyes should be the one paying me for my company. I’m a treasure not many can afford.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nola snorted, “but at least you know your worth.”

“They say that time is money, after all. I’ll make sure to charge him by the minute while we’re together.”

“Please do, and make sure to get a picture of his face once you show him that bill.”

Scott was only happy to see her smile again.

“Will do,” he said.

“While you’re at it, drop a few hints here and there that Paradise might be looking to contract out some exclusive deals with top-rate smugglers. Leave out the ‘top-rate’ part, of course. Can’t have that going to the poor man's head.”

“His ego is already insufferable enough without the compliments,” Scott agreed, “but isn’t the whole point of secrecy for you and I not to draw attention to our connections here?”

“A woman can dream though, can’t she?” Nola sighed.

“So much for Reyes being ‘untrustworthy.’”

Nola didn’t even hesitate, brushing off his attempt to use her words against her.

“Skill is skill, and we don’t exactly have the people or resources to be picky right now. Everything is a commodity on Kadara, even integrity. If he betrays us, we’ll deal with him, simple as that.”

Right.

Still, it was laughable to think that the Charlatan would take on a contract with some of his direct competitors.

Although, that sounds like exactly the type of stunt that Reyes would pull. More than likely, he’d have an ulterior motive for doing so, but Scott could see it happening.

Did he support the idea, though? Definitely not. 

“I don’t know,” Scott muttered. “I couldn’t see Reyes limiting his business to one group, especially if we’re only starting to get our feet wet.”

“You would know how he operates better than I, but I suppose that attitude is understandable. Disappointing, but understandable.” Nola grumbled. “Well, if nothing else, tell him the least he could do is give you a discount.”

“Trust me, I’ve been working that angle for a while. No such luck.”

“Greedy bastard.”

As they finished up their routine patrol, they soon switched direction, heading towards Nakamoto's clinic to conclude their meeting. There, Paradise’s leaders convened. They reviewed the requests that their colonists posted on the message boards around the settlement. Together, they decided on what matters they could approve for certain and which ones would be placed on the docket for a community vote. After that, they moved on to logistics, including topics such as requisitions and inventory.

To draw the meeting to a close, Nola relayed their latest numbers for colonial development. Water production was steady. However, food stores would be struggling soon to keep up with the recent influx of residents, so security personnel and all of those who knew their way around a gun were strongly encouraged to increase hunting and foraging activities while out on patrols or while performing their daily tasks. A roster will be posted on the local message boards to look for volunteers who would like to fill a full-time hunter-gatherer role.

Hopefully, what few angaran scientists they had amongst their people would be able to process their first batch of nutrient paste after their next harvest. It wasn’t exactly the tastiest solution available, but it was a necessary one if they were to survive.

In terms of population, there was a rapid spike in enrollment when word spread that Paradise actually got shit done and held true to their promises, but they expected the effect to eventually plateau once people settled in. Angara enrollment was up at the moment, especially after Scott appointed Nola as governor, and they have even seen a few Initiative members join up, having made the journey all the way from the Nexus to be reunited with friends, family, and loved ones.

Scott asked that they spread word for people to be warm and welcoming. The request probably wasn’t necessary, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Their community would make no friends by tearing people apart, and they prided themselves on being close and tight-knit.

It was important that they not only claimed to be but that they acted like it as well, backing up their words with actions.

Security assignments were then posted. Patrols would have to be upped to make up for an increase that they were seeing with gang-related attacks. Once automated security measures were in place, they would revisit the matter in order to assess which sectors needed heightened security. Emergency drills would be held at the end of the week.

With all of their needs addressed, Nola called the meeting to a close.

Once the meeting was adjourned, Scott approached Nola and their Head of Security, requesting a full census to be done within a day's time. Scott needed names, numbers, faces. Each citizen’s profile needed to be updated within their database.

If Scott was going to make an effective defense matrix for the colony, then he would prefer to program an IFF system that only a select few could remotely activate. For the system to work as intended, all of the colonists' photo IDs and biometric profiles would need to be kept current and constantly updated in real-time.

Nola promised to see to it that Scott got what he needed, shooing him off.

Apparently, he was hovering, but Scott could take a hint. He could tell when he was no longer needed, and he knew that Nola worked best when he wasn’t constantly worrying after her like a mother hen.

Departing from the settlement, Scott cloaked himself the second he went beyond the boundaries of their walls.

He was almost halfway back to Port when he received a message from Reyes. Figuring that he was in the clear, Scott made sure that the coast was clear before deactivating his cloak.

Pulling up his omni-tool’s interface, Scott opened the message. Along with it, there was a set of coordinates, sent from Reyes’s location.

R: Think I’m ready to cash in on those shuttle repairs. Wouldn’t mind the company right about now.

Scott’s fingers hovered above the holographic keys, contemplating his next move before deciding to hell with it.

S: Miss me that much?

R: Am I that obvious?

He didn’t even give Scott a chance to reply before he sent another message.

R: If it’s still in question though, let me put it bluntly.

R: I want to see you.

Scott pursed his lips, cursing his stupid heart for racing in response.

S: Give me a few. I’ll be there.

R: I’ll be looking forward to it.

Before he could embarrass himself, Scott closed out his messages. He quickly made his way to Port, grabbing his bag of tools and gear before venturing back out into the badlands.

From there, Scott followed the coordinates to a cliff, overlooking a nearby valley. The sun was slowly but surely sinking down over the horizon, lightning up the sky in array of pinks and oranges and reds.

Reyes was already waiting for him by the time he arrived, the shuttle powered down for the moment.

However, the second Scott noticed that Reyes was facing away from him, he instantly slowed his walk to a crawl. He bent his knees into a slight crouch and shifted his weight with each step, toe to heel as he snuck his way up behind him.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

Scott delighted in watching him him jump in shock, only to have a blade at his throat in the blink of an eye.

As soon as Reyes realized who it was, all the blood drained from his face.

“S–Scott!”

Hands raised in surrender, Scott raised an eyebrow at him incredulously.

“You know, I was kind of expecting a warmer welcome,” he admitted, careful of the firaan's sharp edge. Keema must have given it to him. “Have to say, though, would it be weird if I was a little turned on right now?”

Reyes scoffed.

Trailing the blade along the outline of his throat, Scott swallowed thickly when he eventually felt its pointed tip press underneath his chin. Reyes tilted it up, and Scott followed, lest he risk being cut.

Their eyes met, and Reyes smirked.

Bastard was toying with him.

Retracting his knife, Reyes sheathed the firaan while Scott tried to catch his breath. The goosebumps left behind in the dagger's wake soon receded, yet a warm heat lingered.

“Tsk.” Reyes huffed at him. “Ryder—”

Uh-oh, back to last name basis. From experience, that meant trouble.

“You know better than to sneak up on me!” Reyes scolded.

“I do,” Scott said, not even afraid to acknowledge it, “but I love getting a rise out of you.”

“What if I would have hurt you?”

“But you didn’t.”

Scowling, Reyes placed his hands on his hips. Shaking his head, he pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“Scott, what the hell am I going to do with you?” he asked, releasing his nose, half-fond and half-frustrated.

“I’m sure we could think of something.”

Reyes hummed in agreement, watching Scott approach the shuttle with his bag tossed over his shoulder. He dropped it to the ground, then immediately got to work.

Watching him closely, Reyes leaned against the side of his shuttle with a thoughtful look.

“Maybe I could take you on a date?”

While Reyes tried to sound confident, his attempt ultimately failed. Instead of forming the words into a bold offer, they fell flat, sounding more like an uncertain question.

Scott stopped what he was doing. He spared Reyes a brief glance, only to return his attention to the task at hand, hiding his flushed face.

“Wouldn’t Zia disapprove?” Scott asked, being rougher than necessary as he practically took apart the control panel.

Envy curled inside him, spreading like an infection through his bloodstream. There was a sharp squeeze around his heart as it was encased in the feeling.

Reyes called him out on it, way too perceptive for his own good.

“Ryder, are you jealous?” Reyes chuckled.

Scott glared, causing him to throw his hands up in surrender.

“Just asking.”

“And if I am?” Scott retorted.

“Then I’d have to put your mind at ease.”

“It’s really none of my busin—”

Reyes closed the distance between them. Reaching out, he cupped Scott’s cheek, brushing his thumb along his bottom lip. Weak as he was, Scott leaned into his touch for a split second. His eyes threatened to flutter closed, but he had to remain firm about this one matter, if nothing else.

As he started to pull away, Reyes said, “There is nothing going on between Zia and I.” Scott froze into place. “We went out for drinks a few times, nothing more.”

“You swear?” Scott asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I swear.” His voice grew heated, impassioned. “I might be a bad man when it comes to many things, but I wouldn’t ever lie about that to you.”

Scott considered that before replying, “Well, like I said—” He cleared his throat, eyes averted. “ It’s not really any of my business, so I don’t know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

He trailed off, uncertain why he was acting that way.

Reyes furrowed his brow.

“No need to be sorry. If you had crossed a line, then I would have said so.”

“Even then, you’re not mine. Your relationships are your own.”

“I could be.”

Scott regarded him skeptically.

“Could be what?”

“Yours,” Reyes answered instantly, staring intently at Scott. “Just say the word.”

If only they weren’t both keeping secrets from each other at the moment, then Scott might take him up on that.

Turns out, being with the Charlatan would be a huge conflict of interests. Who could’ve guessed?

Silence settled between them. It was as if the whole world was awaiting Scott’s answer with bated breath. Time itself seemed to stand still in anticipation.

“I—” He struggled to find the right words. “Give me time.”

That’s all he could ask.

Reyes’s hopeful expression fell, and that alone felt like a stab to the chest. Scott's breathing trembled a little, as if it was becoming difficult to continue drawing in one breath after another.

God, he didn’t want to hurt him, but neither of them could really afford to rush into things half-cocked.

Scott copied his earlier gesture, reaching out to cup Reyes’s cheek. The change was almost instantaneous, how the tension drained away, only for Reyes to melt into Scott’s touch. He leaned into his hand, starved for affection.

Scott swallowed thickly, unable to pull away, let alone take his eyes off of him for even a second.

“All I ask is that you give me time,” Scott repeated. “That’s not a ‘no.’ I just need to think a few things over, iron out a few details.”

Reyes listened, then agreed.

“Alright.” He pulled away with a small, private smile. “As if I could deny anyone such a reasonable request, especially you.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Returning his attention to the shuttle, Scott got back to work. After all, he didn’t want to neglect the poor bird, and it appeared that the shuttle was in desperate need of a little TLC.

His diagnostics only confirmed his suspicions.

When a couple of sparks resulted from his prodding, Scott chastised Reyes for mistreating their baby. Reyes grew defensive, both of them falling back to old habits as they bickered.

This was the type of work that Scott did on the Nexus after he got sidelined and shafted. Systems repairs, shuttle repairs, routine maintenance… That sorta thing.

It was how he met Reyes to begin with. Few pilots had the energy to hang around and talk shop with Scott while he worked, especially since a lot of them had only recently returned from failed colonization efforts. Understandably, most people didn’t want to entertain idle conversation after watching their friends die out in the field.

That was fine by Scott, but Reyes had always gone out of his way —even then— to make sure that Scott had anything and everything that he needed.

They might have taken his shuttle out on a few joyrides together, gotten in trouble for wasting fuel, but Scott wouldn’t trade that time they spent together for anything in the galaxy.

Even now, it felt natural to settle back into their old routine. While Scott worked, Reyes watched, and they talked about anything and everything.

Time passed, and Scott only got deeper into the repairs and modifications. Despite the setting sun, he still broke a sweat, a light sheen glistening upon his skin.

Eventually, he had to take off his shirt, leaving him in a plain tank top that quickly got dirty along with his hands.

Swiping at the perspiration beading at his hairline, Scott grunted as he came to a stopping point for now. He reached for his bag, but what he was seeking wasn’t there.

“Shit.”

Turning towards Reyes, Scott huffed at him.

The bastard wasn’t even trying to hide his staring. Face flushed, he was biting teasingly at his bottom lip, brown eyes dark as he watched Scott through a hooded gaze.

Getting to his feet, Scott crossed his arms over his chest.

“See something you like?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re shameless.” Scott shook his head in disbelief, tsking under his breath. “You’re just as bad as that one time when Gil Brodie asked for a ‘second opinion’ on some fix he made. Turns out, I ended up doing almost all of the work while he sat back and watched.”

“Smart man,” Reyes noted, giving Scott a thorough once-over. “This Gil must have great tastes.”

Scott snorted.

“Flattery will get you nowhere. If you really want to make me happy, then you would grab your water bottle for me.”

“Did you forget yours?” Reyes asked, slightly concerned. After all, being caught out in the badlands without water was just asking for dehydration or heat stroke.

Nevertheless, he got the bottle for him. Scott placed his hands over Reyes’s, shrugging with a flustered blush.

“Yeah,” Scott sighed. “I thought I had packed it! I don’t know where it could’ve wandered off to.”

“Perhaps you were in a bit of a rush to get here,” Reyes said, trailing off suggestively.

Scott figured that he would allow that.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, “but what else do I keep you around for, if not the water? You wouldn’t want the guy repairing your shuttle to get dehydrated, right?” Scott smirked. “I could get delirious, and it would be very unfortunate if I just so happened to forget to install an essential component.”

Reyes gasped dramatically, relinquishing the water to Scott, who was quick to take a swig.

“You always have to watch out for the pretty ones,” Reyes grumbled. “Always causing trouble, keeping secrets…”

There it was again. That sense of knowing , that sense that both of them were holding something back. It was left unsaid. Neither confronted the other about it, but they knew that the secrets were there.

Before the sudden lag in conversation could get too awkward, Scott took another swig of water and asked, “So, you think I’m pretty?”

Reyes chuckled, glad for the change of subject.

“Kian seems to think so,” he muttered. Leave it to him to avoid the question. “He keeps asking when you’re going to start working for him at Tartarus.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“As a dancer?” He had to make sure he was hearing right.

“Yep.”

“Could you imagine?” Scott scoffed. “Me, shaking my ass for money? A tempting offer. It would probably be more profitable than the odd jobs I take on here and there, but I think I’m fine where I’m at.”

“Damn,” Reyes sighed, “what a shame.”

Scott raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“You saying you would have come to watch me?”

“Not only that, but I would have paid to watch you,” Reyes said, “especially if I could have gotten a private show out of it.”

Scott tried to imagine it, grinning in spite of himself.

“What’s so funny?” Reyes wondered.

“Nothing, nothing,” Scott said, brushing off his concern. “That just made me remember a thought that I had earlier.”

“What about?”

“Oh, you know.” Scott gestured vaguely. “Just that I should start charging you a fee for when we spend time together.”

Reyes winked at him.

“It would be worth every credit.”