#they have a job to do and they dont get paid very well

[prof-peach]

It's me again, I'm throwing my two cents in and asking. What are your thoughts on the competitive side of Pokémon caring. or more accurately, Pokémon battles? Especially the gym challenge and the champions themselves? Have you ever tried the gym challange before prof?

While in my youth I did the gym challenges, it all seemed rather staged for me, and i quickly figured out that the gym circuit is built for children, by adults to instil some form of confidence and independance in the youngsters who partake. I swiftly lost interest before completing any of them, but I think my old badges are somewhere, probably rusty by now. The whole organised gym system region to region is a well funded training scheme. Youngsters travel around with pokemon to get to grips with their teams, their independence, and their skills. Gyms offer a challenge to those who never much dipped their toes into the battling world, and many don't partake or bother with it for a whole host of reasons that are all equally valid. It is not a necessity to be a great trainer, nor is it required if you simply dont wish to do it. For most, its a fun challenge, but it does hold relative weight when applying for some job types as an adult, as it proves you can independently shift around and complete a set of tasks of your own volition, using critical problem solving skills on the fly. It has a whole host of benefits, and if you enjoy it and your pokemon enjoy it, then its a great way to earn some cash and blow off some steam!

BUT, that being said, the gym circuit is a tame version of reality. It is a low level set of tasks built to help those not as confident or well versed in battles. Even the more difficult leaders and gyms are playing a role, and while they may have their pokemon trained to a skilled, practiced adults capacity, for the most part they dumb down the fights and make sure they arent impossible for opponents to face. It is meant to be a challenge, not a slaughter, so to speak.

In the real world, people dont always get this safe space to learn how to handle a battle, there is blood, there are injuries, there can be deaths, but in a gym trial, that is harshly reduced, and fatalities are rarely encountered thankfully. With this in mind, I do believe the gym trials are a vital part of some peoples journey, but once you get past them and interact with the real world, where bad guys arent pulling punches like gym leaders do, you realise that you partook in a system that was all soft edges.

the champions and various elietes you encounter are HEAVILY trained guides for peoples journeys, and while some have been dubious, perhaps they slipped through the net, or paid their way into the position, most do the job of training new generations well, and with great precision. It takes a lot to train pokemon to the level they do, and teach with every move. It's a good job, much like any educator, and provides ample reward to see trainers come and go all the more confident and prepared for the real world. The skills it takes to be a gym leader are quite high, as your pokemon have to know when to stop, and how to hit hard, but not TOO hard that you injure opponents. Its a fine line and they walk it well for the most part.

As for the higher tiers of the gym circuits, well, they prove somewhat challenging to anyone on this path, but they too are simply adults hired to do a job, should they show the right aptitude. they get paid, they go home, and most of the time it is simply another form of the education sector.

I personally dont care for it much, but i have a bias others do not, and if i step away from it, its very clear to see that the gyms and the challenges they pose have great benefits for many people and pokemon, and often they offer help and support during times of disaster, such as fires or influx of pests on crops, and the likes. It goes to show they teach people more than how to fight, Alola in particular has a very harmonious balance within its practices, encouraging trainers to do what they can to help the community, without harming too many mons in the process, and to think outside the box when problem solving. Some of the finest trainers come from alola, thanks to their highly adaptive teaching methods.

overall i'd say if you want to partake, go for it! its certainly a safe way to train, but it does not mean you wont be great with pokemon or in a battle if you dont. I certainly never finished them, i know many who never did a single one, and are fantastic trainers. It's a great aid, but not the only way to succeed. So long as you treat your team with care, you research before you get new partners, and you take into consideration their wants FIRST, as their guardians, then youre on the right track. I could go on, but overall everythin gi ever preach comes back to mutual consent and being honest and open with pokemon. They put their faith in us to help them and be their trainers, so we can only try to do our best. If they dont want to fight, pushing them is immoral.

[smogteeth]

Gentle reminder as the spooky time has arrived: If you go to a haunted house/attraction, remember that you paid to be scared. Do not go to a haunted house, and try to impress your friends by assaulting the actors. I would even go so far as to beg you to please stop trying to show off how not scared you are. Please stop this mind set that "not being scared" makes you a cool person. It doesn't. It makes you look like a jerk. And I get it, sometimes, you are legitimately not frightened. I worked Haunted houses, I've been legitimately not scared or impressed. You know what DOES make you cool? Scream anyways. Screaming at jump scares makes it more fun for you and your friends. It makes it more fun for the actors. It makes for an overall better time. If you go about a haunt, acting a fool that's not impressed, the haunters will not waste their time, and they will find someone else who gives them something to work with.

[chucklechampion]

ah heem heem......

[fantastic-artemis]

How to find a job that doesn't make me despair to live

[sm-baby]

MASTERPOST - Piece by Piece ♟️

NEW MASTERPOST DROPPED!! The name is subject to change~ don't worry~

Characters:

Meet Mei-lyn!

Rolandus!

Meet The King and Queen!

Queen (Pre-evolved)

Meet Councilwoman Mars!

Meet Mr. Weiss!

World Building:

Cards and Chess pieces!

Card personalities

Different species!

Evolution Guide

And yes, they evolve like pokemon.

Black Chess pieces

Black and White kingdom

Time frame

SILLIES!!!:

Yes, Mei-lyn gets paid well

SLUTSHAMING!!!

Dont talk to me until I had my coffee

Morning entertainment

no bitches! 🎉🎊

oh shi character ai

HONK!!!

Little Fuckface Shithead

Human centipede🎶

Party Tension (oopsies!!!)

Give my girl a break

╔══ ❀•°❀FAQ❀°•❀ ══╗

" How old is Mei-Lyn?" - Mei Lyn is 23 years old! Started working for the king and queen at 17, got the cock-blocking job at 18. " How tall is the cast?" - MAN... HEIGHTS ARE A HEADACHE... I DON'T WANNA THINK ABOUT THAT "Will we ever see a black king and queen?" - They come when they come! I don't think they'll be any time soon though. " Do the King and Queen have an heir?" - Naur, though they know that they'd have to at some point. Either way, they'd be very neglectful parents. " Can I rizz up Mei-lyn?" - Mei-lyn doesn't believe in true love. She's uncommitted and will leave you at the altar.

╔══ ❀•°❀BOUNDERIES❀°•❀ ══╗

"Can I make OCs In PTP?" - Yess!! Multiple people already have and they make me so happy! do whatever, as long as you're happy and having fun!! " Can I make NSFW?" - Yas and slay! Just keep Mei-lyn out-- she was originally a sona and-- while I'm detached from her enough to not take the simping personally, NSFW would still make me uncomfortable. - Other than that, everyone else (WHO IS LEGAL AND NOT PROSHIPPED) should be free! Please just be sure to tell and spoiler it, etc. etc. be responsible when posting NSFW! " Can I make Fanfics?" - - Yes and please show me!! That would be lovely!! " Can I ship the characters/self ships/ OC x Canon?" - Same as NSFW! Everyone is free but Mei-lyn! Though I find one-sided crushes and the simping endearing and funny (PROSHIPPING IS ABSOLUTELY NOT ALLOWED.)

" Gender and sexualitie headcanons?" - I don't like labels. All my characters are straight until said otherwise-- and I am uncomfortable with people headcanoning my OCs with genders and sexuality. I wish to have control over that. - Though, I'm flattered with mlm/wlw OC x canon shipping with the OCs! That's different in my brain for some reason!

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi, I love the way you write and wanted to know if you could write something.

The situation would be that Y/N is from the mafia and Tommy and Y/N hate each other. And in a situation (the one you want) they have to work together to get out alive and then in the end something hot happens .... I would really like to read something so peri I have not found something similar on the platform

I would really appreciate it very much and read it a lot... I love your content

Hey Love,

I really tried to make a plot - I think I sucked at it but i still hope you enjoy it! As always I'm very sorry this took so long. I will try to look over this again in the morning as i'm not 100% confident in my sleep deprived editing skills.

Warnings: Peaky themes, murder, smut, sex, enemies to lovers,

Thomas was becoming more and more tired of London. At first he found it calming, the lights and constant flow of chaos was enough to keep his mind off of Grace.

He sat on the edge of his bed, feeling is age and then some. The damp cold air caused his joints to hurt, and his muscles protested another day. He ran his hands over his face and tried to take a deep breath. He had his family, responsibilities, he couldn't give up now. 

The phone rang and he moved slowly across the room to pick up the receiver.

“Shelby” He said in a low voice. 

“You just waking up now?” A loud voice boomed from the other end. “These Peaky fuckers - I swear-” The man started to grumble and Thomas started to wonder if his responsibilities were really worth all of this. 

“What do you want, Alfie?” He kept his voice calm and smooth, not because he felt that way, but because it annoyed the other man. 

“No way to talk to a friend, innit?” Something exploded near him and Tommy pulled the phone away from his ear. “Fuck, well don’t mind that. Come down as fast as you can. Pack a trunk with something nice to wear.” 

“Why?” Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Need you to bring me back something from Frace.” 

“No.” Tommy said flatly. There would never be a good enough reason for him to go anywhere near that place. 

“Look, Beaumont’s are closing in on territory. He’s had some choice words about your family, and son. He wants you to meet him and while your there I want you to pop by a friends place and pick up a package for me. Eh? Don't trust it in the post.” 

“Meeting him in France to negotiate territory in London is stupid.” Why was everything always stupid and unreachable. His temper was starting to boil over and he lit a cigarette knowing it would do nothing to calm his nerves. 

“I don't want you to negotiate with him - if you understand what I’m saying.” Alfie said flatly. 

“And if I dont?” Tommy was gripping the edge of the table hoping to steady himself. 

“Break our alliance and join up with the Ricci and hope she can get the job done.” 

Thomas didn't speak for a moment. He was stuck, give up on months of work in London and hand it all over to the heir of the Ricci family - or go into the depths of hell. 

“Though we had an agreement.” Thomas was clenching his jaw tightly.

“That changed when you pissed off the Irish and the Chinese.” 

“Fuck” He swore under his breath. “Fine.” He hung up the phone to escape Alfie’s content laugh. 

Two train rides. One murder. One package. Then his debt to Alfie was paid and his territory in London was settled. 

He survived France once and he could do it again. 

______________________________________________

Out of all the preparations he made this was his least favorite task. Charlie clung to him and Thomas fought with himself. Part of him wanted more than anything to stay there, part of him needed to stay composed in front of Charlie to avoid scaring him. 

The only consistent part of him was the one that wanted to break down and watch everything burn. He kissed the top of Charlie’s head before gently putting him back on his feet. For a split second he swore there was a look of understanding in Polly’s eyes. 

Tommy boarded the train thinking of John and Arthur’s protests to letting him go alone. The invitation was for one, no need to make them relive the past when he could shoulder it alone. 

Things seemed normal enough. He was happy to be left alone to rot in his compartment. The motion of the train made him want to throw up, but the silence was nice. 

Tap Tap 

There was a soft knock at the door and Thomas hoped that they would asume he was a sleep and leave him be. 

Tap Tap 

As usual he would know no such peace. He opened the sliding door and his stomach gave a hateful lurch. 

You were there looking up at him with your big eyes. 

“Good evening Mr. Shelby.” He hated the way you said his name.

“Evening.” He said coldly. 

“Looks like we were both summoned to this event.” To anyone else this would look like small talk, to him he could see the way your eyes absorbed his every move. 

“Looks like it.” He said in the same unimpressed tone. He wondered why you wanted to move in on what he and Alfie had. He’d shut down multiple Italian families over his time in London. No matter how bloody it got you wouldnt relent. 

“I’ll be in the next compartment in you want some company.” You winked at him and he watched you move down the corridor and disappear into your compartment. 

He shut his door and fixed the curtains back into place. He was going to try and stay sober till he got to his hotel, but seeing your face tore up all his self control. Stupid woman. 

He sipped his whiskey and accepted that he would not sleep until he was home. He could feel the chaotic electricity pulsing inside him, nowhere to go, nothing to fight, stuck in this stupid moving box. 

The night swallowed up the view replacing the countryside with his sickly reflection. He shut the curtains to avoid the corpse glaring back at him. Anxiety rattled through him at the lack of chaos. Normally Polly was chasing charlie around to get him in the bath. John was yelling at him about something going wrong, the words from his mouth coming from Esme’s mind. Arthur was already sick from drinking trying to hide the kindness in his eyes. Chaos. 

His eyes closed. Grace’s face swam into view she was trying to tell him something before she started to scream. His body tensed up and his eyes opened to the yellowing light of the compartment. A loud bang caused him to jump up. He moved into the corridor his feet taking him to your room. 

He flug the door open and without surprise found a large mans body on the floor of your compartment. He shut the door and empathized with your far away gaze. He knew that there was a high chance your hands were dirtier than his and despite his loathing, he felt bad for you. 

“There are no other people on this train.” Your voice was distant and your glassy eyes snapped to his face. 

“Fucking Alfie.” He said under his breath, this was a set up. 

“Won't be him. He told us not to bring anyone with us. If he takes us out he knows my brother will take up my place, as would yours.” 

“The train is supposed to make a stop, if it doesn't we jump when it slows down through the mountains.” He whispered looking around the compartment as if he could tell if it was bugged.

“Then what?” You whispered. 

“We make our way home.” He looked into your eyes and noticed the slightest trace of fear. 

“So you and I then?” You cocked your head to the side staring at him suspiciously. He wondered how you managed to stay alive this long when every thought you had was sprawled across your face. 

He didn't want to respond so he held his hand out to you and your slender hand fit inside his. He shook on it and wondered how badly you would make him regret this in the future. But that was future Tommy's problem. 

You both tore through the train finding nothing suspicious accept for the lack of people. Sitting back in his compartment she turned the radio on and pulled a notebook out of her handbag. 

I think we should stay on till Paris  

He gave you a curt nod of agreement. Then watched you write out your next message. 

Then we kill him 

He nodded again before gesturing to the pen. You handed it over to him and in his less elegant writing he wrote out a message. 

Call for backup once we stop 

There was a strange bit of sparkle in your eye when you looked up at him. You smiled and took the pen back, your warm fingers brushing against his cold hand. 

Not enough time. + I like the idea of it being the two of us

He gave a sarcastic smile and looked at the wall. He looked back at you still staring at him, he wanted to know what your game was. There was no need to flirt with him, and yet you always took the time for an extra bit of banter. It had even cost you a couple of times, and yet you always seemed to enjoy bothering him, even when you lost. 

He finally gave you a slow nod, not breaking eye contact. He watched your pupils flutter open, the pulse in your neck speed up. He wanted this to aggravate him like everything else you did. Instead his blood seemed warmer under his translucent skin. 

Frustrated, he waited for you to break eye contact first. You looked down at your watch, then scribbled down another note. 

One hour 

It was an hour of silence and he enjoyed your presence in the seat next to him. He focused on your breathing and let time do it’s thing. 

Once there everything unraveled very quickly. Antoine Beaumont did not bug the train, nor had he sent more than three men to collect their bodies. They were easy enough to handle.

They showed up at his office. The confusion on his secretaries face was satisfying and Tommy almost jumped as you shot her. His eyes slowly looked to you, your face was dark and set in emotionless mask. 

Tommy didn't think the woman needed to die but without time, he moved into the back room and shot the man. He didn't want to hear the saga, the master plan, or what he wanted so badly in London. 

He was old and tired. He wanted to go home. As he walked out of the building he had already washed his hands of the situation. He would ring Alfie, have him send his men out to deal with the collateral and get his stupid package. 

As he walked down the stairs he heard a pair of heels clattering behind him. 

“When is the next train.” You came close enough to his side that you didn't have to raise your voice above a whisper. He looked down at you hiding his surprise. When he shook on it he figured they meant they were agreeing to murdering that bastard. Their alliance was over, and yet you were looking to him.

“Half hour.” He said raising his hand to flag a cab. He opened the door and watched you elegantly slide across the bench seat. He knew that in this moment he was at a crossroads. He had lots of ways of getting home from France. He could close this door and walk away, see you again at the next conflict. Or he could embrace this adventure knowing full well it would probably hurt him just as bad as Grace. Your gloved hand reached out of the cab to grab his, settling his silent debate. 

He watched as you navigated this situation. He didn't want to give away his position, he wanted you to make a fool of yourself for him. 

You didn't knock on his compartment, you slid the door open and he watched as your eyes analyzed him. He knew from the brightness of your eyes and the glint of pink on your cheeks that you would be the next person to take a piece of his soul. He thought about stopping it. But that sweet comfort only offered by chaos was addictive. 

He held out his hand and you smiled at him. Your hand slipped into his once more and he gilded you up onto his lap. Your red lips were curved into a grin, but your deep eyes were holding back. You opened your mouth, either about to tell him what to do, or to ask about what this was. Tommy didn't feel like embarking on either topic, with one hand on your ass he pulled you even closer. His other hand grabbed the back of your neck. Your lips tasted like red wine and drank in the ecstasy that flowed from them. 

You tasted like life. 

You kissed him back hungrily. You fought him for dominance till he got you desperate enough to submit to him. Your body giving in with a sigh as he gripped one of your breasts. He got your skirt out of the way with little effort and watched as your hands undid his trousers. He moaned as your hands slid along his shaft, your body was so warm. The softness of it was addictive. The weight of you on his lap kept him grounded, he felt held down to the earth. You lined yourself up with the head of his cock. He wasn't ready to let you win. 

His fingers brushed past your naval, trailing down to embrace the warmth of your slick folds. You bucked against his hands and he enjoyed the way your back arched for him. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to see you fall apart. He wanted to give you something so good, you would be ruined. 

He told himself it was revenge. He would leave you here on this bench and walk off this train with a clear mind and restored purpose to drive you out of London. 

When you pressed your forehead against his and let out the softest moan he had ever heard he felt his heart start to thaw. You didn't beg him. You sat on his lap in agony as he pressed into you, savouring the way your body tightened around his fingertips. 

He wished you wouldn't have surrendered to him. That you would have kept your guard up. Instead you fell apart for him so beautifully.

He finally couldn't hold back any longer and pushed up into you. The heaviness of the emotion in your cry caused all common sense to leave him. He held your hips tightly and enjoyed the way you bounced on his lap. You swallowed up every bit of pleasure his body could offer. Eventually your release took him under and he watched, he felt you come apart. 

You fell against him, resting your head against his shoulder while you caught your breath. He caved and held you against his chest. He had blown his cover. He waited for you to take the upper hand, take the victory and walk out of the compartment. 

Instead you stayed there for a long moment. 

“Do you like fettuccine?” You whispered and he considered it for a moment. 

“Yes.” He wasn't sure he had ever had fettuccine, but he liked the way it sounded as it rolled off your tongue. 

“Come home with me and I’ll cook for you.” 

He wanted to laugh, for the first time in so long. 

“Trying to tie me down?” He said with a faint smile. 

“Is it working.” Your eyes were wide and your smile was genuine. He laughed and you kissed his cheek before getting your self straightened out. 

He listened to you ramble quietly, enjoying your accent. You spoke to him like he was a friend, not like he was supposed to do something or fix something. 

__________________________________________

You have him over for dinner and he actually eats. He enjoys it and you take a lot of pride. 

Things are very slow as both of you are secretly waiting for the other to screw the other over, this spans on for months. 

After a few weeks without hearing from him you show up at his house with a bunch of food. He opens the door looking beat up with a little boy standing on the stairs behind him. 

You start cleaning his cuts shouting at him for not asking you for help. Charlie watches you with your makeup and hair, big fur coat, scolding his father and is very curious about you. 

In the kitchen you put the food on the table and find the first aid kit and a fork. You give the fork to Charlie and gesture to the tupperware full of pasta. He snacks while you clean Tommy’s wounds. 

Charlie rests his head on the table after eating his body weight in pasta. “I feel so sleepy” He mumbled and you laughed. “That’s the Italian opium hitting.” You smiled at him and he smiled back. “ Don’t worry about your dad. I’ll carry you up to bed later.” He gave you a nod before passing out. 

“Is there actually opium in that.”  Tommy whispered a sense of genuine anxiety in his tone- you laughed “Just the carbs.” 

You called your men in to handle the situation and talked Tommy down everytime he tried to take control of the situation. 

“Stop it. I’m handling it.” You snapped at him and you realised that he was never not incharge. “Trust me.” You watched the internal battle in his big blue eyes. Knowing he wouldn't rest, you handed him the phone. His brow furrowed slightly and you told him what to say. He gave the order and you sat on his lap watching the tension leave his body 

“You ever going to trust me?” You knew it wasn't fair to ask him this after all the blood he lost. 

“I’m trying.” He looked at you through hooded eyes. 

“Dont make me wait” You said sternly before picking up Charlie. You felt your heart break a little when his fist clung to the collar of your shirt once you placed him in bed. You tucked him in under Tommy’s watchful eye. Then followed him through to his bedroom.

[introspectivememories]

shanks and buggy denden au where:

the crew kinda splits up in the 2 year gap before roger's death and in an effort to make sure their sons cabin boys are alright, rayleigh puts them on the ship denden plan

so their little apt in loguetown has two dendens, one in the living room and one in their bedroom

they use it all the time. to call oden and toki, to call spencer. even to call roger, hoping that he'll pick up. (he never does)

phone calls are nice but nothing beats talking face to face and visual dendens are on the market they're just super fuckin expensive and both shanks and buggy are saving up for one. it'll be nice to see momo amd hiyori again.

anyway the execution happens and then the loguetown breakup and they pack up their apt in complete silence, each of them taking one denden.

(it'll be a decade and a half before they see each other again.)

they both expect the phone plan to just get cancelled but one day the mail seagull comes to them with a denden bill. turns out, the pirates denden company just grandfathered them into the old plan.

and you know what? it's not like they have any money and this plan is cheaper than all the other plans the company offers so they keep it. they get two separate numbers for the both of them and they dont think about it.

they decided to alternate the months they paid after one very terse call. or that was the plan but shanks is sooo forgetful all the fucking time and he never pays his denden bill on time. it ends up being buggy paying 8 months out of the year and shanks paying the other 4

(benn ends up setting up auto pay 5 years into traveling with shanks. what? it's not like they're broke.)

anyway buggy ends up becoming the terror of the east blue and shanks goes onto become an emperor and still neither of them change their numbers. they don't have the heart to.

and it's not something they consciously think about but sometimes when buggy gets drunk enough, he'll pull out his old ass denden book and trace his fingers over shanks' number. and if shanks is drunk enough he'll get halfway through dialing buggy's number before his brain catches up to what he's doing and stopping

anyway skip to marineford, and shanks is giving buggy a ride back to his ship. when they finally arrive at the island buggy's ship was docked on, both crews decide to throw a "im so fucking glad we lived through that/ captain buggy's the greatest!" party

buggy desperately tries to avoid shanks and shanks is literally holding himself back from looking for buggy but the party goes on and they get drunker and eventually they gravitate towards each other.

bc of course they do. they were shanksandbuggy, buggyandshanks, long before they were part of their respective crews. so they both sneak away from the party and they end up in shanks' room, with shanks sitting on the bed and buggy on his lap, curled around each other.

it feels just like their apt all those years ago. all those quiet nights on their fourth-hand couch, that they spent curled together -- buggy reading a book and shanks quietly talking his ear off.

(it was easier then. those two years where they had an apt together and the air was still heavy with the scent of hope. it was smth to look forward to -- 2 years and then captain will come back and there will be new adventures!

shanks got a job at the docks and buggy tried at least 17 different jobs before settling at a bookstore. and he'd go to work early in the morning and come back late at night to buggy in his hoodie, making dinner, ranting about rude customers.

and on weekends they'd both sleep in and cook breakfast together. or well buggy would cook breakfast, shanks would sit on the countertops and make buggy laugh. and then they'd spend the day inside or go out to eat. and it was good. better than good even. shanks could almost see why people stayed on land.

and then the execution happens and their father's blood stains the cobblestones crimson red and they seperate and then just as quickly as it started, it ends.)

that's when buggy notices the denden.

🤡: you still have that thing? 🍶: yes of course 🤡: and your number is still the same? 🍶: ....yeah. you? 🤡: yeah, never changed it. 🍶: why'd you keep it all these years?

and buggy may be drunk and his inhibitions may be lowered but he's still buggy at heart so he gives some bullshit answer

🤡 looking away: it was cheaper

and shanks knows he's fucking lying bc it may have been years since he last saw buggy but who knows buggy better than he does? who knows shanks better than buggy does?

🍶: c'mon bugs, tell me the truth. why'd ya keep it all these years? 🤡 unwilling to give in first: why'd you keep it all these years? 🍶: because i kept hoping that you'd be on the other end.

and buggy is floored.

🤡: .... what? 🍶: i kept hoping that if i kept my number the same, you'd call one day. 🍶: i can't tell you how many times i've picked up the denden, hoping it was you on the other end. 🍶, laughing sadly: i kept it all these years because of you. and you never called, not once. 🍶, cupping 🤡 face with his hand: why'd you never call bugs?

shanks is tearing up and buggy has already started the waterworks

🤡, sniffling: you knew where i was. why didn't you ever come and see me? 🍶: can you honestly say that you would've seen me? you probably would've told me to leave. so i stayed away. 🤡 hitting 🍶on the chest: idiot! i probably would've called at some point if you had came to me. but you never did and i just took it as a sign that anything we had was done and over. 🍶, grabbing 🤡 hands and staring into his eyes: how could you ever think we'd be done and over? it's only ever been you for me. only you. 🤡, full on crying by this point: idiot, idiot, idiot!

they're both curled over each other sobbing into each other's shoulder bc they could've had this the entire time but they were too fucking stupid

🍶: why'd you keep the denden, bugs? 🤡: haven't you figured it out by now? it was the only thing i had left of you. 🍶: you're such a fuckin sap, bugs. 🤡, blushing: shut up

[communist-hatsunemiku]

Ok since I have a bit more substantial following. I'm going to detail my surefire method for shoplifting from walmart. I've been doing this for a couple years now, without any repercussions, with my method you can do the same. Read this whole guide, and feel free to ask me questions if need be.

So step one: do your shopping as normal, except grab a few 92 cent packages of tuna(anything small, flat and cheap will work). The amount you grab depends on how many things you're going to steal.

While shopping, place the item to be stolen on top of the tuna in your cart. it's very important that you know where the barcodes are located on both items, as this will come into play in a big way. What's also important is that the item is big enough to completely hide the tuna package under it. Otherwise this method can be risky.

Step two: once you are done with your shopping, head to self check out. Keep an eye on the walmart employee who is manning that station, you want to choose a self checkout that is as far away from them as possible (in my experience these people aren't paying THAT much attention and if they are, they dont care. Look for the younger employee, the ones on their phones, they are your best friend). You want your back facing these people as well.

Step three: Time to ring things up.

Something that is crucial is that you are not stealing literally everything.

Some of your items are going to be paid for normally, and ideally it's some high dollar items you have hid the tuna under. You're going to scan the tuna barcode but make it seem like you are scanning the other item's barcode. This is why you need to hide the tuna underneath the item, be careful not to scan the actual item's barcode because you might end up actually buying it lmao.

Proceed to scan your items, I always do the tuna items first, just to get them out of the way and bagged. I then scan the rest of my items normally, proceed to pay and then leave walmart. Those little scanners at the door only work for things with security devices on them, so dont worry about that. once you are in the parking lot you are home free baby! You just saved a fuckton of money and gave a big fuck you to walmart, good job!

Now, I make it seem very simple, and it is easy once you get the hang of it.

But there a few caveats that are very important.

1. You want everything in a bag, because the employee manning the doors are tasked with checking the receipt if you have something that is not bagged. They are lookingfor the unbagged item on the receipt, and if you have a lot of stuff and only some of them aren't paid for, then usually this isn't an issue. They'll see your huge ass tub of kitty litter on there, and ignore the rest. Still, being stopped by any employee is unwanted.

2. Some self checkout kiosks monitor the weight of items you scan and then place in self checkout, the bagging area is a scale. HOWEVER, in recent years, walmart has forgone that method of limiting shoplifting, I think because it would cause more trouble than it's worth. You need to go to your walmart and test this, which is easy to do.

Above all, it's important to act natural, and it's important to practice. Try it with just one item, you will not get in trouble for having a single item not rung up, if caught.

This post has gotten a bit longer than expected, so if you have questions let me know. HAPPY SHOPLIFTING FUCK WALMART TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL

[lagsemantics]

Hi! Would you like to talk about your Soundwave Misfire rairpair? It's actually pretty cute ngl. How did they meet?

bahah thank you for asking!!

i've laready pestered @robot-rarepairs-dotcom about this in this specific ask but, yeah, why not yell it out loud and proud for the people in the back? and come to think of it maybe i should make a comic out of it sometime someday??? or a fanfic? no, i shant...

so. from the top. the war is still raging on all fronts. there is the fighting with blasters, guns, cannons ad whatnot, sure. but. its said that wars are won off the battlefield. and soundwave, as the chief intel officer is here to secure the rightful victory of the decepticons.

but its not an easy job by any means. there is infinite amount of information to be sourced and only so many tasks sw can attend to at a given moment. so knowing the right cybertronians and having mechs in the right places was all but crucial. and the neutral underground is one such place. but here comes an obstacle. neutrals dont take kindly to 'cons. it'd be a long and tedious process to plant a new network in there. it'd be so much easier if soundwave could find anyone who is already a regular in those spaces. and time is of the essence. there must be something, someone...

...and here comes the idea to employ the scavengers as contacts.

soundwave is naturally skeptical of the idea. the scavs? the bottom of the bottom of the barrel? undisciplined, lousy and, most probably, disloyal? but that just further proves the point. no one would put them under scrutiny. no one would pay them any mind, no one would care. they could slip in anywhere, anytime, get what soundwave needs and then disappear with no trace, since no one even payed them more than a passing glance and a dismissive scoff.

their questionable allegiance is another thing. the one thing soundwave is certain theyre loyal to is survival. he can grant them that. the decepticon high command has a lot of shanix to spare.

and its not like they need to get any major missions, either. soundwave could run a test trial to figure out whether this solution was at all worth investing into.

besides, the scavenegers (as most of the low-ranks) were expendable assets, after all.

and so the chief intelligence officer yields. soon after they send an anonymous signal to the w.a.p., requesting to meet their representative in some shithole bar on a neutral planet.

misfire lost the straw pull and was chosen to be the representative. which in practice meant he was the one speaking with the mysterious figure while the rest of the gang was to sit around (mostly) quietly and listen. and enage if the things went south. because, where one goes, the others do as well.

only when the mission renders sucessful, soundwave reveals himself - to shock and awe of the scavs. but, nevertheless, a long term symbiotic relationship formed. scavengers did what they were instructed to, to mixed results, but they did nontheless. soundwave paid accordingly. all was well.

but there is more to it than meets the eye.

soundwave, though he would never admit it, would grow fond of the scavengers - the lowkey, chill and maybe even fun life they had. a far cry from what he was forced to put up with in the high command. no more power struggle, no more persisting rumors of war. for a moment, aboard of the w.a.p. he could no longer be the head of the decepticon intel office. he could... just exist. not sure how he feels about it, yet. he needs more time to figure it out.

at the center of this is misfire, naturally. the one who talked to him first and the one who was sort of ushered into the role of the one to build a figurative scavengers-soundwave relationship bridge. naturally at first misfire and the others didnt take too kindly to soundwave. as a team they had rather complicated views on the high command as a whole. and soundwave was the very idea of the high command. as skeptical as the scavenger would be, the relationship was beneficial. soundwave became a token of survival for them. but soon enough though, that was to change.

i mean, misfire isnt stupid. he's introspective. he likes people. he likes knowing people. even soundwave was not beyond his curiosity. and, accidentaly or not, he got to know soundwave. the little things about him, that naturally started to seep out of his hardened shell now that he could, primus forbid, finally relax. soundwaves concealed passion for music, his innermost philosophical reflections, the way he cares about his casettes. the mask faltered.

soundwave is being taught how to be his own mech - who he is and who he has potential to be off the battlefield. he's been taught about the importance of trust as a part of loyalty and to overcome the egoism and dispassionateness which emerged as a part of desensitization that came about from everything he has experienced. misfire has been taught of bravery, the many ways to be strong and how important it is to fight for what he believes is right - to live for something beyond just the sake of living.

soundwave has also been converted into a gamer. he's become frighteningly skilled at whatever the cybertronian equivalent of mario kart is. but he lets misfire win :]

oh, and since then soundwave has brought along his casettes to one of his w.a.p. visitations. misfire is slowly but surely advancing to become "the cooler dad". soundwave is not sure how to feel about this.

[blamemma]

miss blamemma, please could you detail what you think happened between michael and daniel for the rest of us that are obsessed with the drama?!

i truly wish i could just upload the voicenotes i've sent to the besties today about this because that would be SO much easier but ok here we go....

i don't think there is one cataclysmic event that led them to fall out, i think it's an amalgamation of a couple of things.

privacy and money; michael loves popularity, loves money, loves business, loves social media, montesises his drivers (he's doing that now with his reels of yuki as well). there has to come a point, for me, where that crosses the boundaries of your role as a trainer. as a trainer, you have to be there for your driver, your driver is your number one priority. if that driver no longer feels they can trust you, then you are not doing your job. michael going on multiple podcasts and dropping tidbits about daniel's life and training and difficulties here and there is not a good look, and i think of the most telling is that testosterone article. michael worked with daniel for the last 5 years so people are going to presume that it is about daniel and on the back of that i saw multiple articles that were headlined something along the fucked up lines of "daniel ricciardo's trainer reveals he broke sex ban with hot young girlfriend heidi berger" (here & here and there are definitely more examples!) and daniel is a relatively private guy about his relationship so having that blasted everywhere cause ur ex-trainer talked about male hormones?? and then yeah u have that podcast thing today....

i have no proof, but i truly believe that michael wanted daniel to take the haas or williams seat so that he (michael) could stay in f1 because again, being in this prestigious sports gets him followers and engagement = money. therefore, when daniel went to him for advice michael may not have been open and willing to daniel's idea of a sabbatical, because it didn't really mean employment for michael (to caveat here, not having job security is a very daunting thing, and i am not saying michael is wrong for worrying about this, however, michael is paid and contracted by daniel and i dont think daniel would have been paying him a cheap wage these past 5 years)

i think daniel has had the time to step away from mclaren, process what happened there, enter red bull again and see how they manage their drivers, move to alpha tauri and see how they manage and speak about their drivers and then truly assess and process the year that last year was. whether you believe michael was foundational in daniel's issues last year or not, he was in control of his diet and exercise regime and his general health and we can all clearly see that deteriorated over the mclaren period and it may be daniel has now stepped away, assessed, talked to some fellow drivers like max (who then stuck up for him in that press conference when michael was brought up, hence why i think he spoke to max about) and how they get on with their trainers and thought hmmmm michael wasn't like that

other factors include michael being very close and friendly with mclaren engineers and social media people (again, valid, you want to get on with the people you work with, but again, your priority should be daniel especially in a tumultuous team like that!) & michael constantly saying he wanted to bigger than daniel, even to the point he started training his neck so that he could say he had a bigger neck than daniel....weird behaviour when you're meant to be motivating ur driver, not ultimately trying to beat them when they're already down in the dumps???

this is genuinely all conjecture and theories and i have no evidence for any of the shit i am spouting here but i am just going on the info we have and the things we have seen and trying to connect dots....

[kpop---scenarios]

Hidden Lies (1)

Pairing: Unknown x Reader

Warning: Violence, Crime, Almost Assault

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: This is a remake of Poisonous Lies. Some parts may be familiar, and that would be why. I hope you enjoy!! Let me know who you think she'll connect more with!

This morning you woke up, listening to the sounds of birds chirping, the sun shining through your window, and feeling like it was going to be a great day. 

“YN.” Your mom yells. It was too early and you were trying to wake up peacefully. “Y/N!” She calls out again, but this time it's more of a screech. 

You groan loudly, folding your pillow over your ears, wanting to enjoy a little bit of time without her yelling at you. The sound of her shrieking voice was coming closer every second, until it was practically right in your ear. 

Your eyes are still closed as you feel your blanket being ripped off your body, your mom cursing at you. 

“Wake the fuck up!” She yells. “Don't you hear me yelling for you? I have shit to do, I cannot keep waking you up in the mornings! damn, you're going to make us both late” 

You were 22 years old and you still live with your mother. This life you had was sad, although it was your fault. This technically was your choice. You had decided to drop out of school and go home to help your mom out after your dad was sentenced to 10 years in prison for a lengthy list of crimes, although well it wasn't his fault, it also was at the same time. 

Your father had lost his job, and instead of telling your mother and them trying to figure it out, he went and got a loan from some people involved in crime that he most definitely should have not gone to. He didn't think about the fact that he would have had to pay that money back, plus interest. And when the time came for them to collect he didn't have it. So he was recruited for odd jobs until he had paid everything back, he didn't get very far though. His last job ended up being a sting operation and he was charged with trafficking drugs, intent to sell, attempted kidnapping, attempted human trafficking and a few other things. He wouldn't tell them why he did it, he didn't want things to get any worse, even though you weren't sure if they could or not. It wasn't his finest moment, he was trying to help his family even if it was the worst way possible. He was a good man and a good dad. Your father was a man who would do anything for his family, especially to protect them, and that’s exactly why he did what he did and now he was suffering the consequences of his own actions. 

“I swear to god, YN.” Your mom yells as she grabs your arm, trying to pull you out of bed. “If you don't get your ass up in the next 30 seconds, I'm going to lose my mind! Your train leaves in 45 minutes and if you dont get ready and leave in 10 minutes then you're not going to be able to see your dad.” She sighs. “It’s his birthday, remember.”

Shit. You quickly bolt up in bed, scrambling to get out of your bed. You were rushing around your room grabbing whatever looked the cleanest on your floor before heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process. 

Your mom sighs loudly before she leaves your room so you can rush around and get ready. You knew it was hard for her, not having your dad around, and you were sometimes difficult but you were trying. You felt guilty, especially since she wasn't able to go on the visit today, her shitty boss wouldn't let her have the time off. It had only been a year since he’d been locked up and you, mom and your brother had faced some very hard times. The three of you have been barely surviving paying the bills, mortgage, car, gas, groceries as well as trying to pay back your dad's loan in cash, rather than jobs similar to what your dad did.

Your mom was working 2 jobs, you and your brother both working full time, and all your money went towards everything needing to be paid, rarely leaving you much of anything left over but the three of you made it work, you always figured it out. You would do whatever you needed to do. 

You're running down the stairs, trying to put your hair into a semi decent bun and forfeiting any makeup. 

“You ready?” Your mom asks, car keys in her hand. 

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag.” you breathe. You run into the kitchen, snatching your purse from the counter before you head back to the front door that's left wide open. You roll your eyes heading out the door, closing it behind you before sliding into the passenger seat of the car the three of you shared. 

Your mom doesn't say a word to you on the ride to the train station. You hold your train ticket in your hand as she pulls in front of the station. “Please tell him happy birthday from me and that I love him.” she whispers as you're getting out of the car. 

You give her a half smile. “I will mom.” You say, getting out of the car and closing the door. It doesn't take you long to navigate your way through the station, you’ve been making this trip a few times a month. You tried to see him as much as you could but between work, work and work, you never had a ton of time. You picked a seat on the train, setting your bag down in the seat beside you. You just made it on time, seconds later you were on your way and you couldn't wait to see your dad. 

You stood in line, waiting to have your bag checked and to go through the x-ray machine. When that was all clear you headed to the front desk, showing your ID and filling out paperwork before you could even go into the room and wait for him. You sit down, your stomach is twisting with nerves. You weren't sure why, this was like any other visit you had been on. 

“LN, YN.” You hear. “You can head in now.” the guard finishes, pointing towards a visitation room. The door buzzes open and you see your dad immediately, sitting in the back, in the middle of the room. His fingers were locked together with his head down. It felt like it had been forever since you had last seen him. “Dad.” you sniffle and his head shoots up, a smile spreads across his face so quickly as he stands up from his chair. You walk towards him, his arms are wide open, waiting to embrace you. You crash into his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he does you, holding you tightly. You missed his hugs, and the safeness you felt from him. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt safe.

You both let go, tears brimming in your eyes as you both sit down across from each other. 

“Happy birthday dad.” you smile. He reaches out to grab your hand, whispering a small thank you while his head hangs low. “Mom also wishes you a happy birthday, and she says that she loves you.” You tell him, but you knew he already knew that. 

“I know,” he smiles. “I'm assuming that she had to work today?” he asks. 

You nod your head. 

“She tried to get the time off but you know Dave, he’s a dick and wouldn't even let her have the morning off.” you tell him.

But again, you knew he already knew that. Dave and your dad had been friends for years, but after your dad was sentenced the man acted as if he never knew him and was never friends with him. Your eyes wander around the room, as if anything would be different since the last time you were here. Your dad begins telling you a story, something funny that had happened the other day. You were listening, but you couldn't help but let your eyes wander.

You looked out into the common room, as you were scanning the room, your eyes landed on someone. A man, a very handsome dark haired, angry looking man staring directly at you. You tried to look away from him, but it's like you were locked in with him. He was so captivating you honestly didn't even want to look away, but you do, not before he smiles at you slightly, giving you a small wink. 

You’re brought out of your trance by your dad clearing his throat before continuing on with his story. You catch the end of it, laughing along with him even though you didn't really hear the rest of it. “Tell me about everything. What’s going on with you? How is your brother?” he asks. Before you can answer the lights of the prison flicker, the alarm blares as the red siren lights up the room on beat with the alarms. 

“What’s happening?” you yell over the loud sounds. You were feeling a little panicked but before your dad could say anything you both hear yelling. You looked at the commotion in the common room, which was only separated from the visiting room by one large metal door. You glanced around, seeing the other visitors watching what was happening but no one was reacting to anything. 

“I'm sure the guards will get it sorted, fights break out all the time. No need to worry.” Your dad tells you, trying to reassure you. 

You couldn't help but worry. You watched as more and more fights were beginning to break out between prisoners, prisoners and guards. You watched in horror, as the prisoners seemingly took the guards down more easily then they should have been able too. Your eyes were darting to every window that you could see and watched guard after guard collapse, inmates grabbing the guns or batons, a cluster of inmates slamming guards into the windows, shaking what is supposed to be bullet proof glass. 

Seconds later a fight in the visiting room breaks out after an inmate bashes a guard's head against the table. You're panicking now, other visitors are screaming, leaving their tables trying to escape, some pounding on the door, begging the guards to let them out.

The inmates from the common room begin trying to shoot the windows, or trying to pry open the doors into the visiting room. 

The doors were buzzed open letting the guards from the front now rush in from one side to try and calm the situation but instead they let the inmates rush through the other doors into the room where you and your dad were. He had taken you to the corner of the room, standing in front of you to protect you. You peek out from behind him, the two of you watching in horror as blood and tears are spilled, the cries and pleas from visitors are yelled out as the inmates attack anyone in their way, including those who were just trying to visit their loved ones. 

Your heart is pounding so loud, you can hear it in your ears. You feel weak, light headed. Your adrenaline hasn't kicked in yet. Your stomach is churning at all of the blood. Your father grabs your hand pulling you with him through another open door, and hopefully to safety. As soon as the two of you make it into another room, you're confronted by three large men. 

“Look.” Your dad begins. “We don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to keep my daughter safe.”

The man in front smiles, but even his smile is terrifying. 

“What a good dad you are. But don't worry.” He says. “We'll take her from here. I'll personally keep her safe.” He finishes, licking his lips. 

“No thank you.” your dad says. “We're just going to go.” You grip onto your dads orange jumpsuit. 

“Dad.” You whisper. He can hear the fear in your voice. 

He runs forward, punching the man, pushing him into the two men behind him. “Run YN! Run!” He screams as the men grab him, taking him elsewhere. You try to run for the door but you're grabbed, pulled back and pushed against the wall. The man who had been talking to your father stood inches from your face. You could see the evil in his eyes as he eyed you up. You can feel his breath on your neck as he moves closer towards you.

You look both ways, trying to find your way to escape. There's only one other door besides the one you came through and you're pretty sure it's locked. Fear jolts through your body as you try and think of anything you could possibly say or do to get yourself out of this situation but you know that there is nothing you can do, except try and fight. 

“Get away from me!” you yell, putting your hands on his chest and pushing as hard as you can. 

"Don't fucking do that.” He snaps, shoving you against the wall. He raises his hand as he gets closer to you, his finger tracing your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears rolling down your cheeks and you let out a scream, as loud as you could. You switched between yelling "help me." And screaming, hoping someone would come for you. 

The man slaps his hand over your mouth, angrily. "Why would you do that, don't you like me?" He asks. "It's been a long fucking time since we've been this close to a woman." He chuckles. You can feel his body pressing against you. You try to focus on anything else, but all you can hear is the sound of him breathing and the screams and cries of the ones caught in the riot. 

Just as you were about to give up, you feel a release. You can no longer feel his body pressing against you, you can hear yelling much closer. You open your eyes and see a dark haired man, and a familiar other dark haired man pulling the men away from you. Within seconds the man who wanted to attack you was down on the floor, and the two men who saved you grabbed your hands, pulling you out of the room and away from the chaos. 

Where was your dad? Was he okay? 

The three of you ran down a hallway, the alarms are still blaring, you can just barely hear police sirens from outside. 

The two men had no idea where to go, everywhere you looked there was violence, inmates with weapons and minimal guards that were alive. 

"Hey!" You hear from down the hall. You all turn around and see the man that had you pinned against the wall. Anger suddenly fuels you, wondering where your dad was. 

“What did you do to my dad!?” You scream. The man stops walking, a grin spreads across his face. “Don't worry, he's just fine. Now you two.” He says, pointing to the two men who were still holding onto you. “You don't get to take what's not yours.” He frowns. “I want her back.” He yells down the hall. The two men who had taken your father appear behind him. 

“Fuck.” One says. they turn around, pulling you in a different direction. You were turning corner after corner until one of them found an unlocked door. He opens it, quickly pulling you inside before slamming it shut. Your body is shaking, you can't help but sob. You never in a million years expected today to turn out how it has. 

Both the men quickly jump into action, grabbing whatever heavy pieces of furniture they can find to shove against the door. You watch them, still feeling just pure shock. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper. You weren't even entirely sure what you were sorry about but it felt appropriate in the moment. 

They both stop covering the door, staring at you. “Sorry for what?” One asks. 

“I.. I'm not sure. But you're in this mess now because of me.” You sigh. 

“We're in this because we didn't want to see an innocent woman get taken advantage of by some fucked up men. You didn't start it.” He says. 

“What's your name?” The other asks. 

"Y/N." You sniffle. 

“I’m Wooyoung, and this is San.” 

“Nice to meet you both. And thank you. I truly don't know what would have happened if you guys didn't save me.” 

“It's nothing.” San says, giving you a half smile. He could not stop staring at you, just like when you were in the visiting room with your dad and he had caught your eye. 

Before you could say anything back, the knob to the door started to shake. There's pounding at the door, and that's when you hear it. 

“Y/N.” your dad calls. “Y/N please let me in. They're coming.” He cries. “Please.” 

You run to the door, trying your best to move everything they had put against the door. 

“Y/N stop.” Wooyoung yells, trying to pull you away. 

“Please!” You cry. “Please help me. That's my dad, we need to let him in.” 

San and Wooyoung loom at each other. They both know this is a bad idea but knew that there would be no chance of you letting up. 

“Whatever happens?” San says. Wooyoung nods his head. 

“Whatever happens.” 

The two men help you pull the large filing cabinet, desk and other heavy things away from the door. You unlock the deadbolt, ripping the door open, the smile on your face falling immediately. 

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry.” He cries. He's pushed inside the room by the three men from before. He trips, falling to the floor with a thud. You wanted to go to him but the man has a gun now and it's pointed directly at you. 

“You two aren't very good at hiding.” He chuckles. 

“Eric, you don't have to do this.” Wooyoung says, his hands up as he inches towards you. 

“Fuck you, Woo. You'd be the fucking same if you were locked in the hole for months at a time.” Eric snaps. “And now I have a chance for something real and you two are trying to ruin it for me.” 

“I'm telling you not to fucking do this.” San snaps. He can see Eric eyeing you up, your dad laying on the floor, one of Eric's men's feet pinning him down. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to you?” Eric laughs. “Just enjoy the show.” He says, grabbing onto Your wrists. Wooyoung and San try to lurch forward but they're stopped by the other two, flashing their knives. Eric pushes you against the wall, pulling you back towards him. He pulls you to the ground, climbing on top of you, straddling you. The gun is still shoved in your face. You say nothing, tears just stream down your face. Your eyes dart in-between San and Wooyoung as you silently plead for one of them to do something. To help you. 

Eric rips open your shirt, exposing your bra. You look away, seeing Wooyoung and San nod towards each other. They both lunge for the men, knocking them down. Your dad scrambles to his feet taking over for San, as he runs for Eric, who was too in his own world with you to hear anything else. San tackles him, causing Eric to let go of the gun, it slides across the floor. Eric scrambles beneath San as he delivers hit after hit. 

“Everybody get on the fucking ground.” You hear. Smoke bombs thrown into the room. Guards in full tactical gear flood inside, guns at the ready. San gets off of Eric, all of them men laying on the floor. “Hands on your head.” They yell. 

You do as you're told. “We have a hostage located.” They go to you first, helping you up. You're coughing loudly as they guide you out of the room, into another one to be treated. They'd finally gotten everything settled down and started getting inmates back into their cells, or medical treatment. 

“You took a fucking hostage, the warden is deciding your punishment.” A guard snaps at Wooyoung and San as they escort them past the room you're in. You push the nurse away, running out of the room. 

“Wait!” You yell. “They didn't take me hostage. They saved me from him.” You say, pointing to Eric. “He tried to.. he tried to...” You cry. “They protected me from him and I'll forever be grateful.” you finish. You walk over to the two handcuffed men, wrapping your arms around both of them, until they're both escorted off. Both of them looking over their shoulders, giving you a smile and a wink. 

Once you were checked out by the nurse and cleared to go, you were led out to the front where your mom was waiting for you. You sobbed into her shoulder as she hugged you tightly, apologizing to you profusely. She grabbed your hand, pulling you out to the car. you look back at the prison as she drives away, silently thanking Wooyoung and San for saving you. You'd have to find some way to properly thank them sometime. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Your mom asks. 

“Dad and I were talking when fights broke out. Inmates were attacking guards and other inmates.” You sigh. “They opened the doors to the visitation room to let guards in but inmates rushed in.. one gut I guess had his sights set on me.” 

“Dad protected you right?” Your mom asks. 

“He tried. But there were 3 of them and one of him.. they took him away. And I was alone.” You look over at your mom, she has tears in her eyes as she listens to you. “But then two men rushed in and grabbed me, helped me escape. Took me to a room and barricaded the door.” 

“They didn't hurt you did they?” She whispers. 

“No mom, they didn't. Dad started banging on the door.. they helped me move everything and open the door but the bad guy was there with him, they pushed him in.. the guy tried to.. r..” you pause. Your mom looks horrified. “He didn't. Wooyoung and San tackled him and then the guards came in.” 

“That was extremely lucky that they were there for you.” She sighs. “I'm so sorry baby.” 

“It's not your fault mom. You didn't know that was going to happen.” You say. “No one could have predicted that would happen.” 

The rest of the way you drive home in silence. You really want to just go to bed. Luckily you didn't have to work today so you could do just that. As you walked in the house, your brother Jaehyun rushed to you, hugging you tightly. “I'm so glad you're okay.” He says, squeezes you even harder. 

“I won't be if you squeeze me anymore, you're gonna suffocate me.” You half chuckle, half panic. He lets you go, patting your back before heading back to the living room. 

“Do you want some lunch?” Your mom asks. You raise an eyebrow. You had assumed she would have had to go back to work. 

“Don't you have to go back to work?” You ask. She looks at the ground. 

“Uh, well.. Dave said if I left to go to you, I wouldn't have a job. It's not worth it if he won't let me go to my child who was in the middle of a prison riot. Don't worry, I'll find something else.” She smiles. 

Fuck Dave. You went up to your room, crawled in your bed and quickly fell asleep. The day was exhausting and you were still shook a week later. It was the week after the riot, and you had been answering everyone's questions about what happened, what it was like the guys who saved you. It was the talk of the town still but you were tired of talking about it. You were ready to forget about it now, which is why you agreed so fast when your friend Hwasa asked you to go out that night. There was a newish club that was apparently very exclusive and the two of you wanted in. You got ready in a hurry, doing your makeup and your hair the best you could. You slipped on your favorite club dress as well as shoes and headed for the front door. 

“I'm going out, bye!” You yell, slamming the door behind you. You run down the driveway heading to Hwasa's car. 

The drive to the club is long. When you finally see it, you're mesmerized. It's bigger than you imagined, the bright sign outside reads Ateez. You were so excited. The line was extremely long, and as you walked up to the bouncer he shooed you to the back of the line. It seemed like you were never going to get in. 

After about twenty minutes, you noticed a man staring at you that was walking the line, he walked past you, before backing up to look at you again. 

“L/N Y/N?” He asks, eyeing you up and down. 

“Yes?” You respond, staring at the handsome man. 

“Come with me.” He says, motioning for you and Hwasa to follow him. You and Hwasa look at each other, she shrugs her shoulders, following the man and dragging you along behind. He stops at the bouncer, pointing to you. “L/N Y/N. Add her to the list. VIP.” He finishes, bringing you both inside. What the hell did you do to get this sort of treatment? 

The two of you walk behind the man, following him really without any questions. You pass what looks like the main bar, the dance floor and head up some stairs. The rope is removed from the hook, letting the three of you into the VIP area. 

“You can stay here if you'd like. Your drinks are all on the house, whatever you'd like. If you need anything, my name is Mingi, don't hesitate to ask.” He says. 

“Um, I do have a question.” You say, slightly raising your hand. “How? Um, why? And um what?” You say. 

Mingi chuckles. “You helped my brothers out, by not adding time to their sentences. They both could have gotten a lot more time after that riot. But they didn't, because of you. So from now on, if you are in trouble or need anything, you have 8 men who will happily help you out.” He says. “Well 6 for now, until San and Woo get out.” 

“All I did was tell the truth.” You say.

“There's a lot of women out there who would have lied, knowing who those two are.” He says. 

 “Also, You're related to them?” You ask, ignoring what he said before. You were too busy trying to stop your mouth from hanging down. 

“Well.. in a sense.” He laughs. “Enjoy your night.” He finishes before leaving the room. 

“What the hell!” Hwasa shouts, heading over to your private bar. She orders multiple drinks and shots for each of you to be brought to your table. As you two sit there, listening to the music the DJ is playing, drinking and just having a good time you see five men walk into the room. They stop, staring at you. As they walk over they introduce themselves. 

“Y/N.” One smiles. “I'm Seonghwa, this is Yeosang, Yunho, Jongho and Hongjoong.” He says pointing to each extremely handsome man. 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile back, waving at them all while hiccuping in the process. 

“Thank you for what you did for Woo and San.” Seonghwa says. 

“Like I said to Mingi, I was just telling the truth. I didn't want them to get into trouble for saving me.” You explain. 

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, don't hesitate to call.” He says, sliding you a piece of paper. Written down are 8 phone numbers for you. This was honestly fucking surreal. Who knew this could happen for simply telling the truth? 

The men walk away and Hwasa stares at you in disbelief. “I almost wish it was me that day.” She laughs. “Let's go dance!” She says, trying to pull you up. 

“Let me just tidy these glasses.” You slur, stacking all the cups and shot glasses to bring back to the bartender. He laughs as you place them on the bar, and thanks you through his chuckles. 

You let Hwasa drag you down the stairs to the dance floor, immediately sliding her hands all over your body as you dance closely. The two of you always preferred to dance together, but sometimes if you were into it you'd dance with men.  This time you were too into dancing with Hwasa, you didn't want any men to disturb you. You turned around, grinding your ass into her as you looked around the club. You glanced up at the balcony and saw six men leaning on the railing, all their eyes staring directly at you. Why did you feel like your life was going to get a lot more interesting? 

[gaylordscooter]

logofthehebmultivese: ENTRY HELP

im writing this down tottally calmly and

yknow what im not even going to do a bit

so fresh is currently in my general vicinity and normally ink and i would get the fuck out of there immediately. GUESS WHERE INK IS??

OR SHOULD I WRITE FRESH INK? GOD THIS IS SO GREAT AND AWESOME IM GLAD IT'S HAPPIENING

so im hiding until dream senses my anguish and decides to head over.

i didnt even know he COULD infect ink on the account of NO SOUL.

then again, no one knows how he does it.

i just realized i haven't written an entry on fresh yet. the lack of info on him is exactly why.

basic gist: parasite-virus kind of deal. there's a "main" host which more often than not is what people are referring to when they say "fresh". little known fact unless you've encountered him. he's a hive-mind. and i wouldve appreciated a warning from ink instead of finding that out MYSELF

when he infects someone, they become a "lesser" host which the main host draws magic from.

now i said—

i hear him

.

[there's a bunch of illegible scribbles]

ok. he walked away my hiding spot's good. seems like all those times i played hide n seek with my brother paid off...

so as i was writing, i call him a parasite-virus now im no biologist (unlike most sanses i majored in psychology, and i totally got my degree, yeah) so i dont know how accurate of a term that is but it sounds right to me because he's a parasite (that resides in a main host) that spreads a virus (that infects people and allows him to control them and draw power from).

and no one knows how he infects people. i dont know if it's airborne, through touch, magic-related no one knows. the logical conclusion tends to be through close proximity but even then who knows what he does to spread the virus.

it might have something to do with those shades that all of them wear

did i mention this very dangerous thing larps as a dude from the 90's. it would be funny if it weren't for everything else. did i mention he's emitting music from the 90's right now and that's how ive been able to tell when he's near? (i can never listen to wannabe by the spice girls the same ever again)

hang on

ink seems to be wasting all his paint. i know what he's trying to do. he still has some control

his paint is more viscous than usual, it's clumping together in gross globs. i think something's in it

it's distracting fresh. i think he's trying to calm him down. failing, of course, ink doesn't listen to anyone (except well, the creators)

the virus targets the soul. ink doesn't have a soul so the next best thing is his paint

now people think when he runs out of paint he becomes a lifeless husk and

thats not. that's exactly what happens

but give him paint again he'll be back to normal, that's my job, sometimes. it's not formally my job, ink wouldn't want to depend on someone to that degree but the few times it's happened—im getting off track

there's paint everywhere and im trying my hardest to not touch any of it. there's petals in it, gross is that what fresh uses? petals or flowers?

hang on ink just slapped fresh with his scarf i need to sketch this out

im not that good at drawing. i'll ask ink to do a true artist's interpretation of this.

oh my god he knocked his glasses off. oh my god that's a huge ass flower in his sockets. that

ok it's time to go

[l1tw1ck]

Heizou and the Dad He'd Like to Fuck

Your neighbor Heizou decides to pay you a visit

FTM!Heizou x Top!Male Reader

Warnings: Non-Con Somnophilia, Oral, Creampie, Age Gap (Reader Age Unspecified), Daddy Kink

Words: 1,323

"Oh, Heizou? What brings you here?" You open the door to your neighbor. He was wearing a very cute outfit, a loose white tank top and brown booty shorts. If you looked at him from the side, you could see a part of his tits. He apparently wasn't the type to wear bras.

"I know you're alone during the day so I wanted to give you some company! I made you something...it's my own special recipe," Heizou smiles and shows you the dish he made. "I call it The Only Truth."

"It looks great, I appreciate that you're thinking of me Heizou. Come in." You step out of the doorway, allowing Heizou to come in. You lead him to the table and go into the kitchen to look for the right utensils to eat it.

"How have you been?" You ask, sitting across from Heizou.

"I've been great! I'm actually the top of my class." Heizou grins smugly.

"Congrats!" You clap. "I can't wait til my kids get to college." You sigh happily.

"Thanks, I wonder what major they'll choose." Heizou smiles at your expression.

"This is amazing, Heizou! You're a great cook!" You praise him. "That's a good skill to have y'know? Especially when you get married, you gotta pull your weight."

"Y- yeah. Thank you.." Heizou blushes.

"I'm not the greatest cook myself, my husband is the one who cooks here. I make up for it with my job though." You laugh. You didn't work everyday but you got paid very well.

Heizou smiles.

The two of you continue talking and end up watching TV on the couch. You got yourself a few cans of beer, it was very early for you to be drinking but you were feeling stressed.

"(Name), is everything okay?" Heizou asks.

"Yeah....no..." You shook your head.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't wanna bother you with it. You're only 19, you don't wanna hear an old man like me vent."

"I do, just tell me." Heizou insists.

"Alright..." You sigh.

"Me and my husband haven't been getting along lately. We're really only together for the kids. I want a divorce but it would hurt our kids. My husband sleeps in the guest room now." You take a big sip of your drink. "I know it's bad to stay together with the kids but the both of us have traits our kids can't live without. He cooks and I work. His job doesn't pay enough to properly support the kids."

"I see.." Heizou hides a smile. "If you were to get a divorce, would you have full custody?"

"I'd want to but they'd have to eat my shitty cooking everyday." You laugh.

"I could cook for them."

"You're a college student, you should focus on that instead. Not somebody else's kids."

"If I lived here though...I live alone so it'd be nice to be around a family."

"Why would you want to?"

"Because I like you." Heizou leans towards you.

You look at him in shock. I mean, sure you had a few passing sinful thoughts about Heizou but you never wanted to indulge in them. The age gap kept you away.

"Heizou-"

"I know we haven't known each other long but I really do like you." Heizou goes in to kiss you, locking your lips together.

And maybe it was because you were feeling upset and had 2 cans of beer, but you found yourself kissing him back.

Heizou moves his hand past your thigh, palming your crotch.

"Mm- Hey-" You put your hand on his wrist.

Heizou frowns. "Why?"

"Kissing is where I draw the line, okay? You're just too young." You move his hand away.

"I'm an adult! I live alone, how am I too young?" Heizou huffs.

"Maybe in a few years but I just can't date a 19 year old. It's not right."

"How? I don't understand...This is perfectly legal!"

"It's not right to me, I'm sorry. I think you should go home." You stand up.

Heizou sighs and reluctantly leaves the house, not without secretly swiping the extra key though.

──────────────────

*Both of you are whispering i just dont wanna italicize all of it sorry*

Heizou sneaks into your house late at night, knowing you'd be there asleep. He knows all too well how illegal his entire plan is but he doesn't care. It's not like he's going to murder you.

He creeps into your room and quietly makes his way onto your bed. He thanks the Archons for your bad marriage.

He pulls down your pants and underwear, freeing your soft dick. He spits on his hand and jerks you off to full size, he was practically drooling at the sight.

He licks the tip of your dick, taking in the taste and smell of your pre cum, before he sucks you off.

You weren't too heavy of a sleeper so you eventually woke up to Heizou's head bobbing up and down on your dick.

"What the-" Your words are cut off by a low moan forcing its way out of your mouth.

Heizou reluctantly removes his mouth from your dick and looks up at you. "You're awake.."

Yeah, and incredibly horny. You had an erection that needed to be taken care of and you were so damn worked up and tired you decided to use Heizou to do it.

You pulled Heizou up and pinned him down on the bed. You took his shorts off with ease. The dim light that shone from the curtains revealed Heizou's ecstatic expression.

"Yes!" Heizou pulls his shirt off then his underwear. He was dripping wet, he even had slick on the inner part of his thighs.

"You're a whore, you know that?" You line your dick up to his hole.

"I'm a whore!" Heizou nods. "Please fuck this slutty little whore daddy!"

You were glad your kids never called you that.

"Don't you dare complain, got it?" You started to ease yourself into him.

"Mm- yes daddy~" Heizou nods, biting his lip to hold back his moans.

"Fuck- you're tight." You groan, stopping and giving Heizou time to adjust.

"Move, please."

"'S gonna hurt."

"Please daddy." Heizou pouts. "I won't complain at all."

"Fuck. Fine." You grip onto his waist, thrusting into him like there's no tomorrow. Heizou covers his mouth, his small tits moving along with your thrusts. You regretted rejecting him earlier.

"Mmph~!"

You hated that you couldn't hear his moans but there was no way in hell you were going to stop and change locations.

"You're doing so good." You groan. "Just like that, taking me so well."

Heizou bites his hand, holding back a loud moan.

"You're so much fucking better than my husband." You praise Heizou. "He rarely had sex with me. You're so perfect compared to him..."

He bites harder, he's so happy but he has to be quiet.

"I could make you into my wife. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Your hand trails up to Heizou's chest, your thumb circling his nipple.

Heizou nods his head rapidly.

"I'd fuck you all the damn time." You lean into his ear. "You'd be my little bitch."

"D- da~ daddy~" Heizou manages to speak quietly. "Cu- cu-" He covers his mouth again as he feels his orgasm quickly approaching.

"Slut." That one word is enough to have Heizou's back arching as he has the most intense orgasm he's ever had. He squirts all over the two of you.

"Fuck-" You feel your own orgasm coming after witnessing that. "I'm close."

Heizou wraps his legs around you, making sure you don't go anywhere.

"You want me to- fuck-" You couldn't hold it in anymore, you shoot your load into him.

"Mm~" Heizou removes his hands and grins.

You pull out and flip Heizou over, lifting his ass up and watching as your cum drips down onto your bed. You'll clean the sheets in the morning.

"Daddy?" Heizou looks back at you, confused.

"What? You thought that was it?" You smirk. "I'm gonna pound you til the sun comes up."

[murder-cookie-dust393]

I saw the yandere hcs for lord Oyster and I saw the ending of them comforting and thought it was kinda cute so I'll bite for hcs! I got an idea for a type of reader I don't see often but I find the trope interesting. May I ask for hcs of a yandere clotted cream x poor reader?

Bonus little addition to reader if you want: maybe, to make it by, reader works really hard...day and night...and often neglects themselves, like they skips meals, barely sleeps due to a mixture of work and stress, work themselves to the bone just to make sure they have a roof over their head and food on the table?

Just always curious how yanderes react to a love like that lol! Sorry if this sounds weird! Just stumbled upon the idea of poor reader and thought it was interesting!

YOU DONT UNDERSTAND- I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT THE POOR MC TROUPE WAS INTERESTING.

[disclaimer: I’ve never had such a situation so I’m just going off of other people’s experiences]

Tw: spying through documents..?, Hierarchy misuse(?), Clotted gaslights ppl

• Let’s say MC is like a cook or something for idk any form of public gatherings. They work their arms off trying to quickly get lots of food cooked- that tastes good enough.

• Even if more they have lots of co-workers, they still have to do so much to have enough for so many people. Hell, they’re still cooking to keep making enough while the gatherings go on.

• Clotted Cream found a little defect in his food, maybe a dessert that was a bit undercooked. So he quickly sneaks into the kitchen to tell one of the chefs, just so they could fix the food before anyone makes a commotion. After all, he is a very kind-hearted, empathetic consul isn’t he…?

• He ends up talking to MC, showing the small defect. To his surprise, MC is panicking like crazy, afraid of losing their job. They quickly go out to the foods and take the tray of the desserts with a defection and shove it in the oven. They’re thanking him greatly, bowing a few times.

• Clotted Cream notices their hands look a little wrecked, with a few bandages over their fingers. “…Say, are your hands alright? They look to be in a quite- rough state.”

• MC is surprised at the question, answering that they have to work a lot to get the food out in time.

• Clotted Cream ends up talking to them longer than needed, and he’s- interested to say the least. He wonders what they’re life is like, given he was adopted into a noble household.

• Clotted Cream ends up scouring through official files to scour more information about them…He ends up seeing all the bills MC is paying, it could be literally anything: debt, medical, whatever. He feels an odd sense of pity? Or is it…something more humane?

• He ends up throwing himself into a hole of complete curiosity- and soon obsession. He wants to know more about their life, how they survive their endless hours of work. He works endless as well- but not in the way they do.

• At every public gathering, [where they’re serving food] he’s talking to them more than he is to the guests, always asking questions about their life and how they’re doing.

• At some point, he can’t take it anymore, seeing them suffer to keep their surviving. So one day, MC finds that all the bills they had to pay are just gone. Paid for. It confused them.

• The next day, MC goes over to the bill issuer, questioning things. Which the bill issuer responds, “Oh, a cookie came in and said he was your fiancé so he paid them all for you.”

• MC, absolutely flabbergasted, tries to question the bill issuer, wondering who the cookie was. But the bill issuer didn’t know. Only noticing he had green eyes. He’s in a disguise.

• MC goes back home, confused af. For one thing, they don’t even have a fiancé, and two, they don’t even know who this dude is.

• Meanwhile, Clotted Cream is laying in his bed, giggling like some girl that has a stupid school crush. He couldn’t believe he managed to get away with it! Not that it would matter, he could easily trick people into thinking the two of you were engaged.

• A few days later, when MC comes home from a long day at work, they notice literally ALL of their stuff is packed up. And guess who comes out from the closet with clothes in his hands? That’s right, sir fucking Clotted Cream.

• Before MC can even question him, he pressing a kiss to their cheek and smiling. “I’m just getting everything ready for you to move in with me! Don’t worry darling, this is the last of everything.”

• MC can try everything to question and defy him, but he’s just pulling the “I’m sir Consul, I can ruin your life. Now love me.”

• Poor MC, going from poor to confused and weirded out.

• If MC is compliant, he’s a needy mf, who’s super affectionate behind closed doors. Constantly giving them hugs and compliments.

[Ok- ngl this was self-indulgent. I would say this is my longest post on here lmao]

- Celina

[rainstops]

only wanted when needed

diluc x reader - hurt/comfort

summary: you are dilucs personal assistant. you tried your best to be good enough for him, but regardless of your efforts you were never what you wished to be. you liked diluc, more than you probably should. and you tried, you really did, until you had enough.

a/n: felt this on a spiritual level. and im sorry but this is kind off rushed,, please enjoy this regardless!

another day, another hour, another minute and another second of diluc trying to focus on his work, but no matter how long or how hard he tried, he just could not focus. that was until he heard a knock on the door to his office. "come in", he sighed. you entered his office, with a cup of coffee in your left hand. "you havent left your office in a while, make sure to take breaks every once in a while, diluc", you suggested. you used to call him master diluc, but he insisted that you would just call him diluc. "thanks [name]", diluc replied and took the coffee with graditute.

it almost seemed like you always knew exactly what he needed.

so why did it have to come to this?

more utc

again, diluc spend hours on end on his paperwork. frustrated, once again. and again you were the one knocking on the door. "come in", he muttered the words. when you entered the room, you were met with a diluc who had his face burried in his hands. "diluc, are you okay? can i help you with anything? i could-" "no [name]", he sighed. "just tell me what you need", diluc cut you off. "oh well i was just checking up on you, because i know you tend to overwork yourself, so i just-" "well if its nothing then just leave", diluc cut you off a second time. you watched his hands ball into fists. "...okay", you did what he wished for, even if something inside you hurt, when he rejected your help so very crude. but you managed to convince yourself that it was just frustration from working so much. but then why did it hurt like this? you were very well aware that you were just his assistant, but sometimes you dared to imagine you were more than that. those wishes and dreams were left unspoken, even after years of knowing diluc.

but it still hurt so much.

what you werent prepared for, was how many times situations like this would occur. his ways of telling you to leave him alone got more and more impolite, almost insulting at this point. all you wanted was to help, yet diluc did not understand your intentions. or maybe he didnt want to understand them. or maybe he just didnt care enough. no matter what it was, it was always the same. you offered your help, and he rejected. everyday it was like opening an old wound once again and putting salt in it.

one last try.

that was what he would get.

a knock, and another one. they sounded hesitant, but diluc paid no attention to that. "come in", the same words used over and over again. "you have been working in here for over seven hours now, you should take a break its not good for your health", your body flinched, when you heard diluc slam a fist on his table. "oh my god [name]. every day you come in here saying the same things! how many times do i have to tell you that you cant-", this time you cut him off. "that i cant do anything? is that what you were going to say? are you going to tell me to leave like every other day? diluc all i want is to help you. its not my fault that you overwork yourself so much that you ignore who actually cares about you. and yes i do care about you, i dont just do this because its my job", as you were finally letting all those words out of your system, an irritated stare was lying on your face. this was the first time in weeks, diluc has looked at you again. your eyes were no longer filled with passion. its like they were replaced with those hurt eyes. your body was tense, and although diluc finally noticed all those things, it seemed he had no words for you. seriously? you just told him how you felt, and he still ignored you like an irrelevant nobody. "i really like you diluc, i really do but.." dilucs body tensed up upon hearing those words leave your lips. his heart had a reaction to it he never felt before. "it doesnt seem like neither your heart nor you seem to care enough to reply to me", and with that, you left with quiet steps and closed the door behind you.

diluc was in a daze, and stared at the door you closed behind you for at least another 5 minutes.

he noticed something long ago. he noticed whenever you entered a room, it seemed to light up. he noticed how whenever you saw him your eyes lit up. he noticed how whenever you ate something you liked, the corners of your mouth lifted before you could say something. and so many more things, which would take hours to list. but most of all, he noticed how much he needed you.

and now he notices that once again.

suddenly he remembers all the times he was rude to you, whenever you asked to help him. he missed those before, but now theyre coming to him again.

he looked for you, and with every second he couldnt find you, the pit in his stomach grew quicker than he could find you.

"ah! master diluc! are you looking for [name]?", one of his maids approached him, not noticing how stressed he was.

"Yes! yes, do you know where they are?" "well, not exactly, but they told me they were going on a walk", the maid repeated what you had told her. she also noticed your dull eyes rather quickly, so she let you go, agreeing that it would be good for you.

"Thank you!", diluc replied, as he was already hurriedly heading towards the door.

as soon as he stepped outside, he noticed how hard it would be to find you. you could be anywhere, in any direction. then he suddenly remembers a faint interaction you both had. you remeber telling him, that whenever you didnt know where else to go, you went to starsnatch cliff. he remembers you rambling on and on about how the name fits the cliff so perfectly, because whenever you were there at night, the stars felt so close as if you could just snatch them. the red heads feet guided him right to where he suspected you could be, and he was right. there you were lying flat on your back, arms streched away from your body.

it seemed to diluc that you havent noticed his quiet steps in the grass yet, but you noticed long ago. you were never going to admit this, but you were actually hoping that he would find you.

"what do you want", you asked while sitting up, with your back still turned to him. dilucs breaths were deep and heavy, since he went here as fast as he could. now was the moment, when he wasnt sure what to say. just like back in his office, it seemed his heart had so much to tell you, but his words were left unspoken. a few more seconds remained silent. "well if its nothing then just leave", you repeated the words that left his mouth a long while ago. the probably first of the many times he rejected your help, your concern, and you. suddenly he heard a sniffle. have you been crying? this is not what he wanted. never had he expected you to be crying because of his actions. not when he was the one who dreamed of being with you, and the one who dreamed to protect you exactly pain like this.

but still he was the one who sent those daggers into your heart.

maybe that was what he needed to say.

"i'm sorry [name], i'm really so sorry. i know that sorry probably doesnt fix anything right now, but please forgive me. i know that i shouldnt have been the way i was to you. i should have accepted your help, i know youre a great help and i shouldnt have snapped at you the way i did. i have so many things i want to say to you but i never know how or where to start. please, would you forgive me?"

...

diluc heard no reply, but instead more quiet sniffles. you on the other hand could not speak. you were afraid of your voice breaking, or maybe you were afraid of starting to cry even more. you hugged your legs.

suddenly, you felt a warm body against your back and you felt arms snake around your waist. but most importantly, you heard a whispered "please..."

diluc tried to look at you, but you just turned your face away from him. "don't look at me right now i look hideous", you shakily let those words escape your throat. "no you dont, and even if you did, i'd still like that 'hideous' version of you [name]. i like every version of you. remember when you told me you liked me today? i like you more, even more than you could imagine. i love you, [name]. i know how sudden this is but everything that i know about you, and all your features, every single gesture and every single habit of yours. i adore those things more than my own life. so please. please forgive me this once. you dont have to feel the same way. i just dont want you to hate me", diluc confessed his well kept secret.

"... i dont hate you, diluc. and i never could hate you", a single tear rolled down your face, as you turned around to face diluc, who still had his arms around your waist.

diluc cupped your cheeks, and wiped away your tears with his thumbs. "you look as beautiful as always [name]" you laid your head against his chest and closed your eyes, his body keeping you warm. "the stars look closer than usual today, dont you think?"

bonus diluc noticed your quiet snores, after a while of sitting with you in his arms at starsnatch cliff. your body shivered, and only then he noticed how cold it was getting. "i suppose its time to go back", diluc took off his coat, and gently laid it on your body, as he picked you up in bridal style, to carry you back to his mansion.

a/n: i may or may not have shed a tear or two while writing this.

[aristotels]

I would love to hear an extended rant about being an artist in a periphery country, if you're willing to say more.

sorry for this being late! but yes there are quite a few things to this.

1) EDUCATION/JOB OFFERINGS

when you are from a periphery country, the art education accessible to you is much worse than in the imperial core. yes, i know, you dont need to go to art school, you can be self-taught, you dont need a degree, but art school is about making potential job connections. in a country like croatia, you do not have access to those connections. you do not have ability to go out, show your portfolio, get reccommended by a professor for a listing. the education is stunted as well - the animation program here is atrocious, my building had an attic with dead pigeon corpses littering the room, there are no drawing tablets, computers are old, the building is leaking, but the lack of ability to make professional connections is the main concern.

also, your degree? people hear you got a degree from a balkans land and you are immediately less worthy in their eyes. your name, which is not anglo? crossed out, despite your skills. job offerings within your country? good luck, everyone lives in poverty, you are underpaid, and studios hiring can be named on fingers of one hand. you are left with earning online.

and you are left with earning illegally. making author contracts with pdv, taxes, etc is incredibly complicated when working over upwork, doing commissions etc. this does constitute as black market. we do not hand in our taxes like in the usa, theyre deducted from our salaries and contracts immediately. this means you are missing out on potential grants and statuses which require you to provide papers of your commissions. it also means that transfering money over paypal has to go into small amounts to your own account, to avoid suspicious activity.

2) ART TOOLS ACCESIBILITY

a thing that is very frustrating. living in a periphery country? good luck getting anything. art shops are scarce. art shops do not carry the same amounts of items, and they are more expensive than in their mother countries. you are left with office supply stores. the quality of accessible paints and other tools is lower. its already been proven that products shipped to eastern europe are of lower quality and higher price than in the west; and this goes for paints too.

this means that, if you do traditional art of any kind, you are left with shopping online. this includes shipping - youre in a periphery country? congrats, often it does not ship to it, or the shipping is atrocious. your choices? mostly deutschland amazon - every item has 10€ shipping minimum. prices are not adjusted to your salary, they are adjusted to the german ones, which are much higher. i have to regularly order fillings for my brushpen. it is not available in my country. the price on amazon is significantly higher than on pentel website, and their usa based shipping. yes, just the price of the product. pentel does not ship this to my country btw. aliexpress is what you have, it takes 2 months to arrive, is frequently lost in mail, and even with it being cheaper - its still a bit more expensive than the original.

3) ALGORITHM, SOCIAL MEDIA

this is the third thing - algorithm works against you if you are not from the imperial core. of course, there are timezones, but also - your posts tend to be shown to people who live around you; meaning you have harder time breaking into the international market, and that market is the only viable one.

4) BEING PAID LESS

being eastern european (or asian or southern american or african or...) gets you lower salary. i indeed love my employers, i adore the comic i work on so much that its become my own project as well, theyve been nothing but kind to me - but the fact remains that i, as an eastern european, am and will always be paid much less than my usamerican counterparts.

5) JOB OPPORTUNITIES, ONCE AGAIN, ENGLISH LANGUAGE

adding this but: its hard to break into cartoon network/adult swim/etc without being presently there. you cannot get to conventions, you cannot have your portfolio checked, and you must speak english. yes. anglos take english-speaking for granted, and fail to realize that actually speaking english for us is not a privilege, its a necessity, and its a tool of imperialism. it is unfair that you cannot do ANYTHING without speaking english. you cannot get jobs, you cannot advance your career, and while i personally speak english quite well, not everyone does, not everyone should have to.

anyway sorry for the length