#just my incoherent two cents I guess

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 None

Once we arrive in Roy's shop, our much greater Perception points us to this rack of clothing.

RACK OF SECOND-HAND UNIFORMS - Wow! A very large red T-shirt with an impressive print stands out from the other garb.

Oh yeah?

Not now. [Leave.]

RACK OF SECOND-HAND UNIFORMS - *Oh* yeah. The print depicts a muscled man striding toward you, a giant sword in each hand, encircled by burning embers. Behind him is a cluster of cabins engulfed in flames. Beneath him are the words: "HJELMDALL BURNING."

Sniff the T-shirt.

"That's a rad Man from Hjelmdall t-shirt you've got there."

"This shirt celebrates a false hero, a guardian of the masculine order."

"How much are you selling this T-shirt for?"

Let go of the T-shirt. [Leave.]

RACK OF SECOND-HAND UNIFORMS - Smells like worn cotton. And a little old sweat there?

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Medium: Success] - Worn cotton with a side of flea market or trash bin.

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Sniffing is okay," says the shopkeep. "But please don't try anything on. Can't have you leaving your photon emissions in the fabric of things you're not going to buy."

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - You're not imagining it. Photon emissions? What is he talking about?

2. "That's a rad Man from Hjelmdall t-shirt you've got there."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Hell yeah, man." The shopkeep sounds enthusiastic. "I don't usually carry printed tees, but this one was just such a pure exemplar."

"You must be a serious Man from Hjelmdall fan."

"We have a lot in common. I'm a big fan of the Man from Hjelmdall too."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "A fan... No, I wouldn't go that far. But I do think the Hjelmdallermann Saga is an integral part of our shared reality."

"Most people don't think that the Man from Hjemdall really existed, but they're *wrong*."

3. "What did you mean the Man from Hjelmdall was real?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "I mean -- even if the Man from Hjelmdall didn't exist before the adventure novels, the stories have made it so that he has. It's simple really."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Okay..." He sounds incredulous.

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "You sound sceptical. It's not that complicated. All that's required is a more robust understanding of cause and effect."

"Besides, I've been to Katla, though not quite as far north as the Hjelmdall, and watched the northern lights travel across the sky. Very unique energetic tides there."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - His theory isn't exactly *incoherent*, but its logic does suggest some *unusual* neural activity. Interesting...

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Very, *very* unique energies indeed. Geomagnetic ley lines, one might even say.

4. "This shirt celebrates a false hero, a guardian of the masculine order."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - He drums his fingers on the counter. "I doubt the real Man from Hjelmdall was as poor a role model as the one in the popular literature."

"But, yes, the books are very sexist. In a not-entirely-unenjoyable way."

5. "How much are you selling this T-shirt for?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Two reál."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant raises his eyebrows. "That's dirt cheap."

"Couldn't you just give it to me for free then?"

"Cool, I'll think about it."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - He frowns. "But... why?"

"Because I'm a broke cop without a cent to my name."

"The Man from Hjelmdall is a superstar, I'm a superstar -- it would be perfect!"

"Perhaps I could repay you in some other way?"

"I guess I can't really think of any good reason."

+1 Superstar cop

BIRD'S NEST ROY - He thinks about it. "I suppose that makes sense, yes. Please, go ahead and take it -- Welcome to Hjelmdall."

Item gained: T-Shirt "Man From Hjelmdall"

Huh.

+1 Physical Instrument: Inspiring musculature +1 Shivers: Sprawling saga -2 Authority: Too old for this shirt

The Man from Hjelmdall is standing in front of a burning village, dual-wielding his ever-present zweihänders. His muscles look ready to burst out of the two-dimensional print and into your three-dimensional life.

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Greetings on this fine night. What brings you here?"

"You do know that it's not really a 'fine night'? The weather is terrible."

"How come you're still open?"

"It's cool that you're still open. Big city vibes."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Is it?" He turns his head to the right and then to the left, as if looking for non-existent windows. "Spring is capricious, yes."

2. "It's cool that you're still open. Big city vibes."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "The pawnshop is always open."

We have a couple of new dialogue options.

"I'm looking for something that plays a tape. For police business."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Yeah, we still have those boomboxes on the shelves."

4. "Do you know anything about the traffic menace on the loose?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Traffic... I'm sorry, officer, but I don't drive."

"Wait, why don't you drive?"

"But didn't you hear it when the traffic menace drove over your roof?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "I just don't like it very much. Movement on the road never really gelled well with the movement of my thoughts."

"But didn't you hear it when the traffic menace drove over your roof?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Now that I think about it, I do remember hearing a thunderous noise the other night -- some kind of powerful electric vortex hitting the shop and then moving on..."

+5 XP

KIM KITSURAGI - "That sure narrows down our list of suspects."

"A vortex? Sounds fascinating."

"Does that mean you don't have any idea who the driver was?"

"I can understand how you would mistake Jacob Irw for a powerful electric vortex."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Jacob Irw? The great TipTop champion? Yes, yes..."

KIM KITSURAGI - His forehead creases. "Do you think it may have been... Jacob Irw who drove over your roof?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "It's a logical explanation. I felt within that thunderous crash a soul plunged into chaos."

3. [Electrochemistry - Challenging 12] Is Roy high -- and if yes, what is he on?

Our conversation about the shirt has given us a *lot* of new bonuses to this.

+2 Roy's prices are strange. +1 Roy doesn't really sleep. +2 Odd brain activity. +1 Composure noticed psychedelics. +1 Strange tie incident.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Challenging: Success] - Feeling warm and enthralled by the movement of light, while the mind continues to race forward? Lucky bastard -- he's probably on Pyrholidon. It's tough to come by on the street.

Pyrholidon? What is that?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - A drug developed by the military to treat and prevent radiation sickness. It has psychedelic side-effects. *And* it makes your eyes turn yellow!

"Is it just me, or is it really warm in here?" (Look around.)

(Step closer.) "Sir, could you take off your sunglasses? I'd like to check your eyes."

(Get straight to the point.) "So, where does a man get Pyrholidon these days?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - He tilts his head. "I try to keep the shop at a comfortable temperature."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - There's a note of indignation in his voice. Interesting.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - Those triangle patches on his vest... you have a feeling they *mean* something. Like they're similar to the halogen rectangle on your jacket.

(Point at his clothes.) "Say, what's with the triangles on your vest?"

"It's pretty obvious that you're under the influence, sir."

"No judgement -- just curious. I probably did loads of Pyrholidon before I lost my memory."

"Chill out, man -- I'm a chill out cop who just wants some of what you're having." (Wink.)

BIRD'S NEST ROY - He hesitates. "I was... I was with the Emergency Relief Brigade. You know, after the People's Pile disaster." He coughs, as if to mark his words.

"Had to take Pyrholidon for radiation sickness. That's what you were hinting at just now, wasn't it?"

PAIN THRESHOLD [Easy: Success] - He's taking it for mental and emotional, not physical pain these days.

"The People's Pile? What's that?"

"Tell me more about this Emergency Relief Brigade you were part of."

"It must have been tough -- radioactive clean-up."

"How did you end up running a pawnshop?"

"Thank you for telling me." (Conclude.)

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "A bad idea. Some poor leftists built a particle decay generator in hopes of bringing affordable electricity to under-served communities. It malfunctioned. Radioactive waste everywhere, probably some of it in *you*, too."

2. "Tell me more about this Emergency Relief Brigade you were part of."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - He points at the white triangle on his orange safety jacket. "We were an all-volunteer force, self-organized. Tried to help fire brigades contain the spill."

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - On the patch -- gamma radiation lines crossed with a red drop of blood.

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "I lived by the river since I was a small boy. The Esperance... didn't have the heart to let it all go to shit without trying to *do* something, to help out."

"There wasn't much the volunteer force could do, however. We wasted years in the river mud. Years getting sick..." He looks at the spiralling light and stops.

3. "It must have been tough -- radioactive clean-up."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - He hesitates. "There's a reason why everyone's tried to forget any of it ever happened, and why no one has tried to repair or replace the Pile."

"So much disappointment -- and early deaths, cancer mostly. And we knew all that was coming even as we were *cleaning up* as best we could."

"Whose fault was it that the generator failed?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "No one's, everyone's..." He sighs and shakes his head.

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - So much bitterness.

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "A bunch of poor people built themselves a primitive nuclear reactor, hoping for the best. What do you think is going to happen?"

4. "How did you end up running a pawnshop?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "The clean-up happened fifteen years ago. I was young then. Later my second aunt died, left me this shack and the assorted junk in it."

"So I came to Martinaise. People told me don't go there, it's a *shit-hole*. I said: people, we just had a *nuclear pile meltdown*. I'm gonna get as far from Faubourg as I can. Still in the same city, but..." He shrugs.

5. "Thank you for telling me." (Conclude.)

BIRD'S NEST ROY - He shrugs. "I like theory more than story. Outward movement, not vortices."

+5 XP

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Yeah... you gotta get in on those vortices, my man.

We *could* now ask Roy for some Pyrholidon. It gives +1 Psyche and -1 Health, so it's not especially useful for us, thought.

9. "I have other business to take care of now." [Leave.]

THOUGHT COMPLETE: THE JAMROCK SHUFFLE

BONUSES: Find better loot in locked containers

SOLUTION: In a way, yes. You *are* treasure hunting. Most officers from Precinct 41 do what is called the Jamrock Shuffle -- cracking open containers. Most of them are from Jamrock or Coal City, the poorest parts of Revachol that also overlap with the network of royal catacombs called Le Royaume, just beneath the streets. As children you would all go underground, hoping to find treasure, and come back with a rat’s tail or a used needle. That playful curiosity must still be in you. Who knows. Maybe one day the Orbe de Montagne, the Holy Scepter, and the Cocaine Skull will all be yours!

SHELF OF BOOMBOXES - The boomboxes wait on the shelves. And your boombox -- that gold and amber Harmon Wowshi -- stares at you longingly with its tape reel eyes.

"Are you sure this is all in working order?"

"Can I just play a tape on one of the boomboxes real quick?"

[12.00] "I want to buy the boombox."

"Can I get a discount on the boombox? A *police* discount."

"That's all." [Leave.]

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "Sorry, man. I can't be giving out freebies. Never have, won't now."

Uh...

Anyway, we want to have this boombox in our possession. For karaoke.

4. "Can I get a discount on this boombox? A *police* discount."

BIRD'S NEST ROY - "A discount? I do have to keep the lights on, man. It's twelve reál."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Remember -- he doesn't like music. He likes *sounds*. The *Doorgunner Megamix* is his type of tape! Certainly he'd give you a discount if he knew you'd play something so *experimental*.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #bird's nest roy

[redkardinal]

An account of my family’s current situation:

This is a very VERY long story, but I feel like I need to share.

Back in the middle of June, I got married to the love of my life. My partner (J) is the most kind, caring, intelligent, and goofy person I have had the pleasure to have a part of my life. Between the two of us we have two amazing children (R) and (K). (Not sure if it’s actually relevant to what I’m about to say, but R is actually a young adult now, but I met R when they were a teenager.) We all moved in together soon after the wedding and are working on building a beautiful future together.

However, J’s family situation has never been the greatest. They were living with their parents, first out of personal necessity, but then it eventually became clear that J’s parents depended on both J and R. This is due to two factors. J’s father, (D) is… how do I describe it… hopelessly addicted to scams. This man has lost everything to his name because he falls for any and every scam put before him, and this lifetime driven by both greed and stupidity has brought us to where we are today…

Let me go over some of the things I’ve experienced since meeting J, R and their family. D had this very nice truck that he’d taken great care of for years. But when a scammer asked him for 6 grand, D claimed he didn’t have the money to give. The scammer (Whom D called his financial advisor) said that he could get that money by selling his truck. It would be okay to sell because he would get that money back and more soon. Heck, he’d have enough to buy ten trucks! So D sold his truck, legitimately, and gave every cent to his “Financial Advisor.” Lo and behold, that money is gone.

A few months later, I get a call from J, telling me that D has been arrested. For what, we don’t know. We kept asking D what had happened, but D refuses to say. So J decides not to bail D out, but somehow, days later, D is back home. We do not know who bailed him out, just that someone did. We don’t discover why he was arrested until months later (This past December to be exact… He was arrested well over a year ago.) Turns out, he was arrested because that truck I mentioned earlier… he tried to sell it twice. Or maybe he sold it and his “financial advisor” also sold it to someone else. We don’t know the whole truth on this still.

I don’t remember if it was the sale of the truck when this happened or sometime before, but J did file for power of attorney. Yet, things did not improve. D continued to somehow lose his money to scam after scam after scam. It is weighing heavily on J, and R is getting angrier and angrier at the situation as D constantly has to come to them for cash to pay bills…. Cash that he ought to have already but, you guessed it, he stupidly lost.

So let me say that D is a very despicable person. He will be so fake kind to people to try and get on their good side, (like he has never been awful to me, but I have seen how he treats J, R and his own wife [G]) There were many times when I was visiting J at home and would hear D across the house, screaming at either R or G over nothing. (I recall one time he straight up screamed at his wife for a ridiculous amount of time because he lost his own cell phone and was blaming it on her….)

On the day J and I got married, I think that may have been the final straw. We got married on the 5 year anniversary of the day we met. It became a tradition of ours to return to the place we met every year, and since we were going to be busy with wedding things the rest of the day, we decided we would meet first thing in the morning. We go, and not ten minutes after we meet up, J gets a call from R. R is crying, with clear distress and I can hear them screaming through J’s car radio, despite being in my own car. I can also hear D pounding on R’s door, yelling incoherently at them. I hear R desperately cry out “LEAVE ME ALONE!” And J and I know what we have to do. We go back to J’s house to rescue R. We get there, and I collect R into my car and J goes to confront D. D, thinking it’s R approaching says with so much venom “What?” But upon seeing J changes his attitude to be all smiley and non-confrontational. He claims that he and R were having a minor disagreement over sodas. J, who is furious at their father, slaps him. D fights back and knocks the lens from J’s glasses. He is promptly disinvited to the wedding and we all leave. J never slept in that house again.

This did not stop D from calling J over and over saying he needed to pay the water bill (which BY THE WAY is under D’s name and therefore his responsibility, but since the dumbass has no money he relies on J to pay it.) Eventually J just pays it and doesn’t tell D until he calls again, to which J answers “I paid it.” And hangs up. We think at this point that we are just going to cut J off and have nothing more to do with him. Boy do I wish that were the case….

So about a month after we get married, it’s J’s birthday and I’m really excited to celebrate with them. But I have to go to work. At lunch time, J calls and I’m looking forward to chatting and wishing a happy birthday, but am met with. “D sold the house.” Fuck. I call my boss and leave work. I hurry to J’s former home and J is there with R and D and the new homeowner who bought the house at a lowball price in order to flip and resell…. Oh, but where’s the money that D got from the house? You already know what I’m going to say. It’s gone. To the pocket of a scammer. I should point out…. We’re 98% certain that it has been the SAME GOD DAMN SCAMMER THIS ENTIRE TIME!!!! From the moment I met D and all the god damn nonsense that he’s put J and R through, it has been the same people he’s been willingly giving all of his money to in the blind, stupid hope that he’s somehow going to become a millionaire. So how is this resolved? Well, the new homeowner, bless his motherfucking soul, is way too kind and allows D and G to basically squat there for a while until they can be placed somewhere.

I’m sure you’re wondering why the hell J hasn’t just turned their back on D and been done with him. This is entirely because of J’s mother G. She is a very kind woman. Probably the main reason why J is as sweet and caring as they are. I love this woman. I am thankful for her kindness. But she comes with her own giant garbage bag of issues…. And I do mean garbage bag almost literally. G is incredibly mentally ill. She is, as far as I know, paranoid schizophrenic, and so lost in a mental fog that she doesn’t even know what year it is. This poor woman has not been to a doctor in over 20 years. This poor woman rarely changes her clothes, wears multiple heavy coats even in the heat of summer, and takes J’s old shoes when he buys new ones, even though J is not her size. Yes, J has bought her new shoes too. This woman also ties random objects, like plastic bags, old underwear, rubber bands, all over her body… making her look twice as big under all the coats. She would “sleep” in a heap on the couch. (I’m not convinced she actually slept.) she would hide garbage in every nook and cranny in the house. She would often urinate on herself because she was possibly too scared to go to the bathroom (that is my guess anyway.) Ands what’s worse, is D treats this poor, clearly unwell woman as a servant. And I don’t know how reliable G’s word is, but she has told me that D has been violent toward her. (Which I can totally see.) But she is constantly worried about D and his wellbeing over her own because in her own head she thinks if D is appeased, it will help everyone else.

So J keeps helping because of G. And I completely understand and support this. We have tried getting APS to help, but they haven’t been the most helpful. They’ve gone out for visits and everything but haven’t really given us much as far as getting them placed anywhere. Plus G won’t leave the house. Meanwhile D is still giving whatever money he’s getting from retirement to his “financial advisor.” This is putting so much stress on J, and I’m doing what I can to keep J’s spirits up. I at least take heart in knowing that J and R no longer live there and that R is not constantly being mentally abused by their grandfather.

So let’s cut to December. J keeps getting calls from their old neighbors that D keeps falling, and screaming his head off for G to pick him up. (I should point out if I’ve forgotten to at this point that D is 74, has Parkinson’s disease and Diabetes… all of which J drives him to all of his appointments and we’ve made detailed schedules on how he is supposed to take his meds) J leaves work to handle the situation and D is taken to the ER. He’s then recommended to have PT to get his strength back, which he can do at a nursing home, which hopefully he can get permanent lodging in. OK! Great! That’s one parent potentially out of the house they no longer own. Except, no nursing home will take him because his insurance is shit and they have nowhere to discharge him to once the PT is done. Great…. So J somehow manages to get him placed somewhere for PT, not sure how, but J now needs to apply for Medicaid for D so he can fucking STAY at the nursing home… otherwise it’s going to be $175 A DAY for D to stay there. But there is a problem that J discovers…

D, on top of all the money he’s given away, has opened up at least 3 (that we know of) bank accounts with other banks, which have all had suspicious deposits sites and withdraws from several different states… none of which D resides in. (Or has ever even been to…) it all screams money laundering to us, and D is just the dumbass caught up in the middle of this. J has been busting their ass trying to get these accounts frozen and/or closed, whilst also trying to get statements from them to file with the Medicaid application which some places are being very difficult about despite J having POA over D. There’s so much fraud going on, it’s going to be difficult to get D approved for Medicaid.

Meanwhile, all this time that D has been gone, G has been alone at that house. And honestly? She seemed to be in much better spirits with D gone. (Go figure…) She even told both me and J that she hopes D never comes back… He won’t G, he won’t… but then again, neither will she. A couple weeks ago, the new house owner finally needed to take possession, so J and I had to figure something out to get G out of the house for good. APS had scheduled a doctor to come visit her in house, but it wasn’t going to be for another month. We needed G out NOW. So what can we do? Well, we convince G that she needs to go to the hospital (which regardless of the rest of the situation, she absolutely does… her leg is red and swollen.) So we manage to get her to the ER. And G is basically a ghost in the system. There is next to nothing on her medical history… DUH! She hasn’t been to a doctor in 20 years! But they manage to schedule a psychiatric evaluation for her the day we bring her and she didn’t want me or J in the room with her because she thought we were lying about things that happened to her in the past. (Well, mostly J… I was basically there to remember dates within the last 5 years…. I can’t account for a full lifetime like J can.) And somehow the hospital told us that this woman doesn’t need assisted living…

That was about two weeks ago at this point… I think their opinion has changed. Because they managed to get all the things she had tied around her body off of her, but when they left her alone and came back, they found that she had gone through the garbage to wrap more things on her body. They managed to cut off the ties she had around her fingers and found that they were wrapped so tight that it cut nearly to the bone on one of her fingers. Yeah… she doesn’t need assisted living….

As of now, she is still in the hospital, no longer in the ER, but she has a constant sitter with her to keep an eye on her. She has everything detached from her body that wasn’t supposed to be there… i think her leg and hand have healed considerably, but there aren’t any current plans for placing her anywhere at the moment I’m not sure what’s going to happen with G at this point. But if she does end up placed somewhere, we want to make sure it is not the same place as D…. So, more Medicaid and more money…

D has also been trying to ask J about our new house… our address, how big it is and stuff like that. J says “Oh, staff knows where we live. And I have a room for myself and RK, a room for R, and a room for K, and we don’t really have room for someone who has lied to me his entire life and squandered away everything he’s ever owned.” A bit harsh? Maybe. But honestly after the life D has put J through…. D deserves it. Plus I will NOT have D in my house. I will not subject my partner to that man again. I will not subject my stepchild to that again, and i will not subject my birth child to that either.

As for J and myself, we will be working with a lawyer to try and get the Medicaid applications squared away. It’s going to be expensive, so we will be taking a rather hefty financial hit…. But hopefully once we have J’s parents squared away, we can finally breathe easy again. We have a hard, stressful time ahead of us… but we’ve been dealing with this stress for a while now.

If you stuck with me to the end of this, thank you. It’s kind of helped to air this out a bit. I do feel like there is an end in sight to all of this, i just hope my family can get there without losing our minds….

Thanks for listening…

~RK

#personal #thoughts #venting #in laws #family problems #medicaid #nursing home

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #67

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but they're guaranteed to raise a smile. Please enjoy.

“So, in the end, I guess you could say my father…” Glenda blew her nose. “My father did raise me right. In his own twisted way. But my mother…”

Dr. Kleck nodded and looked at her watch. “Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmmm. Unfortunately, that’s all the time we have for today.” Kleck scribbled incoherently on a receipt form and handed it to Glenda.

“What’s this?” Glenda asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“That’s the check. We’ve switched to a new system.”

Glenda looked down the list. It was itemized, but each item was represented by a loopy pen scratch instead of a word. All in all, the cost came out to ninety-five dollars and twelve cents.

“Oh… oh my God, I can’t afford this.”

“Not to worry, dear, we do offer a payment plan.”

“Doesn’t my insurance -”

“This is after your insurance. Then there’s copay and coinsurance, which you are responsible for. And the tip.”

“Tip?”

“It’s customary to leave a tip of twenty percent if you feel satisfied by the service you received.”

“I guess… in a restaurant, maybe.”

“Don’t you think therapists work as hard as waitstaff?”

“Yeah, I…” Glenda looked back and forth between the check and Kleck, wondering if this was some kind of joke. “Don’t you get paid more in the first place?”

“Not really, no.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Uh…” Glenda pointed to a line item. “This is the biggest fee, what is it?”

“That’s the Facilities Fee.”

“It costs me forty dollars just to sit on this couch?”

“No, no, that would be ridiculous. It costs you forty dollars for me to be in this room.”

“So I would still have to pay this if I switched to virtual appointments?”

“That’s right. Unless I stayed home.”

“Oh, well, maybe we could -”

“But then I’d have to charge you the Remote HIPAA Compliance Fee, which is the same cost.”

“I’m confused… if I have to pay it no matter what, why isn’t it just part of the base price?”

Kleck shrugged. “No one would get therapy if they thought it was that expensive.”

“But it is that expensive.”

“After taxes, tip, and fees, yes. But before that, no.”

“And every therapist does this now?”

“Probably. What, are you gonna call and ask?” Dr. Kleck snorted. “Just kidding. I know you won’t.”

“I don’t really want to change therapists again either, after the last one went out of network.”

“Oh, that’s right, I was going to tell you this: you used to go to Dr. Lindsay Munk, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Glenda scratched the back of her head.

“She works here now.” Dr. Kleck got up and opened the door behind her to yell out of it. “Lindsay!”

Dr. Munk came to the door wearing an apron covered in tissue boxes. “Hey, Carrie, what is it?”

Kleck gestured at Glenda. “This was one of yours, right?”

“Oh yeah! Great to see you, Brenda.” Munk turned back to Kleck. “Is that all? I’m really swamped right now, I’ve got two Daddy Issues, a Mommy Issues, and an Uncle Issues all on the ticket right now.”

“Oh, go tend to that, I don’t want to hold you up.”

Munk rushed away.

“What’s she doing?” Glenda asked.

“Hmm, that? Short order therapy. It’s very fast, but she needs to stay on her toes or the drive-thru will get backed up. It’s already hard enough with the ice cream machine not working today. Patients get very upset.”

Glenda handed Dr. Kleck the check and her credit card. “I don’t think I can afford to come here weekly anymore.”

“No problem, Glenda.” Kleck swiped the card on the machine by her chair. “I’ll see you next month, yes?”

#NSC Original #brain curd #brain curds #writing #creative writing #writeblr #flash fiction #author #writer things #writers #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity #women writers #female writers #queer writers

[dahniwitchoflight]

so bout that samurai jack episode

so I really like samurai jack, always have always will

which makes me feel the need to make a bit of a post on my perspective on what happened in the recent episode with Jack and Ashi becoming a couple

I really didnt expect peoples reactions to be as extreme as they were, but I also entirely understand all the arguments that would make people want to reject this ship so harshly

but given that, I don’t think the creators of the show handled things as undelicately as everyone seems to think, and this coming from a person who has a pretty similar life and “origin story” if you will as Ashi AND Jack (minus the obvious impossibilities like time travel :P but growing up in abusive isolated cult home? check. constant hyper vigilance and feeling disconnected altogether from a sense of time? check. nightmares and ptsd symptoms in general all around? check. I’m just saying, I connect to both characters here lol)

first issue people have is major and that’s the physical age gap between the two, with some people even going so far as to say its basically pedophilia, which I really don’t agree with

but given cues in the show, we know Ashi is at least an adult. Her mother lets her and her sisters go after they are fully trained adult members of the cult. Jack never sees her as anything except a murderous fully trained adult assassin out for his blood and the reveal that shes been entirely naked throughout this whole show because that black suit was actually her scarred and charred black skin?

the only other option is then the difference in experience between the two making people uncomfy, which I can understand, but the thing is, by the time that they actually become a couple, theyve gotten on equal footing.

ashi grew up isolated in a death cult that gave her no other option except to kill or be killed by the samurai. Even when she already showed inclinations of being a good and caring character to her mother’s irritation.

throughout the show, contrary to what you might think, Ashi got all of her character development on her own, while Jack was not around

Jack didn’t train her or teach her anything, Jack merely told her about the possibility of aku being evil, and then when Jack disappeared, sure her motivation to move around the world was to seek out Jack and get him to prove it to her, but unintentionally along the way she met new people, new perspectives, new ideas, saw the beauty of the world all on her own and gained those experiences and came to her own conclusions, without Jack.

the only problem with any of this was the pacing for the whole show feels too quick, so the idea that ashi gained all that experience once freed from her mother and traveled around for a bit feels too quick to really happen, but this is more a fault of the shows pacing then the shows story

its not that the plot points themselves are wrong, its just how fast they knocking them off can make it seem rushed or not real

the basic story of Ashi is:

A child with a pure heart grows up in an assassin cult and given a narrow worldview. As an adult, she fulfills her training and is then sent off to kill her target the samurai under the guidance of her god figure Aku. She fails to kill the samurai, and the samurai instead explains his absurd position that he is good and aku is evil. She at first mocks him, but as she has always been as a child, is curious, and truly wants good, so she wants confirmation of his views, wants solid proof. Jack doesnt give it to her and then leaves, forcing her to explore the world on her own and judge it with her own eyes (even though in her head she is seeking out the samurai for his answers and proof). She does this, experioences the world on her own and understands Aku’s evilness and believes in Jack’s goodness, so that by the time she actually finds the Samurai to get his answers, she already has her own. They’ve become on equal footing.

and that feels quick sure, but the important part is that its not impossible. It can be hard for abused children to accept outside narratives than the one they grew up in, the struggle is real believe me, so seeing it happen this way to Ashi can feel unrealistic to those that it hasn’t happened to. But its not impossible for it to happen this way, at all. It’s very similar to what happened with me, i also just happened to find a certain special person, just a friend from highschool, who by happenstance was the one to first help me shatter my illusions about my family, and that quickstarted my “character arc” if you will and I went from being in full brainwashed state to moving out and living my own life in a matter of couple months (not to say ive been fully healed in that time though, and neither has Ashi shown this either, as she still experiences the horror of that situation when she thinks of it as well)

and then theres how how all this looks from Jack’s point of view

Which is Jack has never seen her as some inexperienced child that needed guidance or a father, nor has he really ever held a position higher than hers mentally/psychologically from the start

he has only seen her as an assassin out for his blood who is wrongfully thinking that aku is good when he is evil

that is not “Ashi is ignorant I Must Teach her” thats “This person misunderstands greatly, they were taught wrong”

If Ashi was the sweet little know nothing ingenue that Jack had to raise/train, then Ashi would be all “Who’s Aku? What’s Evil? What’s Good?” she would literally Know Nothing at all except what Jack taught her, instead she consistently has her own ideas of the world, and changes those ideas on her own, she doesn’t just adopt samurai Jack’s worldview because he told her too. She gets her own worldview, which is subtly different than Jack’s even if they are aligned together

So we can agree Ashi is traumatized, and is mentally affected by this, despite showing realistic yet rushed growth that puts her more on par with Samurai Jack yes?

now the other side of the coin

Jack is ALSO traumatized by the life he’s lived in very similar ways to Ashi

both have been constantly forced by circumstance to survive under the threat of death, Angry Jack is literally Trauma Induced Hypervigilance personified. Ashi constantly hounded with “Are You Weak? Do You Deserve To Die?” with no person to offer either of them comfort or care. Both have been forced to fight against evil constantly, with the idea that they MUST win over evil or they will not only die, but deserve to die. Jack is a Samurai who has sworn to his family that he will fix everything and get Aku, and his guilt over feeling like he’s not able to haunts him with the faces of the dead he feels responsible for to the point where he was driven to honor bound suicide. Ashi was given one option in life, kill the samurai or die trying, and if you die you die in failure in shame, her life had no value except in if she could kill Jack. 

so its like, yes Ashi has been through some stuff, which compared to a normal psychologically healthy person, could put her at a disadvantage or set her up to be used and abused/continue the cycle etc

but Jack is nowhere near a psychologically healthy person either, he’s in the same position as her from the start

and both of them get “out of” their trauma in seemingly unrealistic ways, in fact I’d say Jack literally just sitting down and meditating Angry Jack out of his soul for a day is more unrealistic than Ashi going out and living the life she never could and experiencing full blast all of the world’s goodness on her own for the what, 2 or 3 weeks that she did before finding Jack

basically my point is by the time they kiss on the show, they are both adults, and have no reason to believe the other is not just a normal adult, they’ve been through the same trauma’s, been on the same unstable mental footing, continue to deal with the feelings of terror while aligning themselves to the same goal of “get aku” theyve traveled together, understood their differences and now understood perhaps theyre similarities, felt a connection and kissed

and really, Ashi deserves the love that Jack could bring her as much as Jack deserves the love Ashi can bring him

nothing about their situation feels unequal in any regard to me, except for the literal fact that Ashi is 20 to Jack’s unnatural 70

we see the difference as the audience, but Jack sees a normal 20 year old woman his equal, who can sympathize with his life experiences, and Ashi sees a normal 20 year old man her equal, who needed a shave, who can sympathize with her life experiences

all in all, it doesn’t feel like a disservice to either of their character’s, it feels like two traumatized people happened to find themselves on the same boat for once, and discovered that hey, maybe another living human does and can understand what I’ve been through, maybe I can make a connection to another person

#Samurai Jack #Jashi #just my incoherent two cents I guess

[appleflavoredkitkats]

OK SO FUNDY AND WILBUR INCOHERENT THOUGHTS

i think wilbur's casual dismissiveness of fundy speaks volumes on what kind of relationship they have.

but, and this is a big but, i don't think it's just as easy as “wilbur consciously and maliciously chooses to neglect fundy,” because it really doesn't read that way. when i see wilbur surprised at eret's suggestion to have closure with fundy, it just genuinely reads as him not realizing the kind of impact he has on fundy's life. it really does feel like he's shocked and surprised that fundy would need closure from him, that fundy actually values and views wilbur as integral to his life.

and it kind of makes me wonder like. how did we get here? i know there's a whole debate on wilbur's parenting, so i'll just add my two cents in what i think possibly happened:

when fundy asserted his want for independence and respect during the elections arc, wilbur accidentally mistook it as fundy devaluing his relationship with wilbur as a family. but in fundy's perspective, his assertion wasn't mean for him to push wilbur away, but it's meant to make wilbur respect him as an equal, to stop the infantilization he gets from him.

then, wilbur leaves fundy alone because he THINKS that's what fundy wants. but to fundy, he internalizes that AS neglect because that really isn't what he wants.

something something, miscommunication, something something

and it's just!! so interesting!! how miscommunication can make this family diverge so much!! *dances*

and . i feel like i also have to entertain the question of, is wilbur a bad parent or not? and that's a tough question to answer when you realize the different perspectives at play here.

all i can say is that wilbur's neglect feels incredibly unintentional. despite this, the damage has been done onto fundy. we see fundy externalize that pain on so many occasions— we absolutely cannot ignore that.

on both ends, they definitely could've communicated better during the pogtopia arc— i think they take equal blame here on the lack of transparency. i mean, we barely even see these two TALK. and of course, that had definitely hurt wilbur during pogtopia. but now, he seems, again, casually dismissive of fundy, and again, this spawned from the fact that he believed this is what fundy would have wanted.

and i know i'm scratching the surface when it comes to these two. there's just so much depth and factors to consider that doesn't get covered simply by yes or no questions like “is wilbur a good father?” or “is fundy a good son?” or “is wilbur/fundy a good person?” etc etc

so like, before discussion ever erupts to that point, i guess it's important to question what good it does to ask this specific question, especially since there's just so, so much to talk about. at the end, we know that they both didn't intend to hurt each other, but with the lack of communication, we are brought to this kind of relationship between wil and fundy.

no big grandiose conclusion to this, just. yeah. miscommunication and depth

#mcyt #dream smp #fundy #wilbur soot #dream smp analysis #long post

[mypoisonedvine]

It’s Always The Quiet Ones... | college AU dark!Peter Parker x (slightly)naive!reader

for @nsfwsebbie​​‘s dream fic challenge, I was assigned to write something for @harryspet​​ which was vv exciting bc I love her stuff ;-; no pressure right? lol (also thank you to @evnscvll​​ for being my proofreader, sounding board, and partner for some very strange texting for the purpose of screenshots!)

Here is the prompt I got: peter is a dork and is weird and quiet, and the readers friends dared her to sleep with him. turns out he was really kinky and is really good at sex. can be dark.  And hoo boy, did I run with that.  I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (it’s consensual but with dubcon undertones, manipulation, and implied coercion/dubcon at the end), stalking, blackmail, voyeurism, and general creepiness.  Oh yeah and there’s some degradation and dacryphilia in there for good measure.

You and your friends were in the middle of your daily cafeteria lunch, chatting about the same sorts of small talk you always did.  

“Oh god, it’s that weird guy from class!” Jackie blurted out suddenly around a mouthful of fries, pulling you out of the conversation you’d been having.  Everyone at the table whipped around and your eyes went wide. 

“Come on, don’t look all at once,” you hissed.  

“Who is this guy?” Cody asked, looking around with confusion.

“The guy in the blue hoodie over there,” Jackie answered, motioning toward him with her head.  It was Peter, setting down his tray of food and opening up his laptop, putting earbuds in.  He was pretty much always on his laptop, it seemed like.  He took a bite of his pizza before getting back to whatever he was working on.

“He looks normal, or normal-ish,” Mia shrugged.  

“No, no, you don’t get it,” you shook your head.  “We have him in Computational Physics on Tuesdays and Thursdays--”

“Plus Friday lab,” Jackie interjected.

“--and he’s… kinda…”

“Creepy,” Jackie concluded.

“No,” you denied, “not creepy.  He’s just… a bit awkward, I guess.”

“And he stares at you, like, the entire time we’re in class.  But won’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mia agreed with a shudder.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s kinda… sweet, maybe?  I mean, he’s just shy, right?”

“Oh my god you are such a slag!” Jackie teased, shoving you on the shoulder.  “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No!” you denied with wide eyes.  

“You’re just into the attention,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“I mean, it’s kind of flattering, isn’t it?” you admitted.  Jackie laughed.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” she decided.

“Nooooooooo, no way,” you shake your head.

“I kinda wanna see this,” Cody smirks.

“Literally just go over there and flirt with him, his head would explode,” Jackie suggested excitedly.

“I don’t even know how to flirt,” you chuckled.

“So you’re considering it!” Mia accused.

“I didn’t say that!” you squeaked.

“Pleeeeeease,” Jackie whined playfully.  “It’ll be funny.”

“I don’t usually sleep with people for comedic effect.”

“I’ll chip in $20 if you do it,” she offered immediately.  She turned to the rest of the table, “come on guys, we need to pool together and make her do it.”

“I’ve only got a ten,” Cody mumbled, pulling it out slowly before Jackie snatched it away.

“Okay, $30, who can make it $50?”

“Jackie, calm down,” you hissed.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t sleep with him for $50?  He’s cute!”

“I have $35 and 67 cents,” Mia counted, shuffling through her wallet.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

“Just do it, for me,” Jackie said, suddenly sounding oddly serious.  You didn’t understand why it mattered so much, but you decided it couldn’t be that bad if you just did it.

“Fine, fine, just shut up and don’t stare at us,” you instructed, getting up to a ruckus of cheers.  You didn’t even take the money.

You walked across the cafeteria, messenger bag slung over your shoulder, and hoped you wouldn’t totally make an idiot of yourself.  If you hadn’t already just by talking to a guy over a dare.

He didn’t seem to notice you when you stood by his table, still focusing on his computer.

“Um, hey,” you waved, and Peter looked up at you as he took out his earbuds.

“Hi,” he replied quickly.

“What… what are you working on?” you asked, motioning to the laptop.  He didn’t stop looking at you, and he didn’t say anything.  “I… we have comp together?  You know who I am, right?”

“O-of course I do!” he suddenly perked up.  “Yeah, I just…” he trailed off and turned to his laptop.  “I was just working on this model.”

“Can I take a look?” 

He smiled a little, and moved his backpack out of the seat next to him.  “Go ahead!”

You sat down and leaned in to look at his screen.  

“It’s-- it’s not finished but, basically I just put the kinetic energy of an object on the x-axis, the potential energy on the y-axis--” 

You used the laptop’s touch screen to move the model around, impressed with his work.  “And the z-axis is the conservation of energy for work done on an object,” you finished.  

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” he nodded.

“It’s beautiful!” you realized, appreciating the variety of colors as each data point was suspended in the graph.  

“Do you do any modeling?” he asked you, and for a hot second it felt like a line.

“Um,” you laughed, “no, not much at least.  Nothing extracurricular.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more into abstract math, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled.  “Oh, you’re one of those.”

You laughed, shoving him on the shoulder playfully, but regretting it as you saw his smile drop a bit.  “People are so judgmental about abstract math, as if it isn’t the study of the founding principles of mathematics.”

“So you think adding a pineapple and a banana is the foundation of mathematics?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, there’s so much more to abstract mathematics than weird variables,” you frowned.  “Like basic functions on matrices!  Don’t act like it isn’t dope as fuck to add, subtract, multiply and divide matrices.  If you saw my whiteboard in my dorm you would understand.”

“If I had a whiteboard now I could prove to you that abstract math is overrated,” he countered.

“I’d love to see you try,” you scoffed.  You hadn’t really meant it literally.  

“I don’t have anything for the rest of the day,” he shrugged.  It took you a moment to realize he was suggesting to actually come to your room and talk about math.  You weren’t sure if that was even what would happen if you went back to your dorm…

You opened your mouth to say that you were busy, that you couldn’t, that you shouldn’t, so you were a little surprised when you heard yourself say “sure” instead.

And that was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen counter with Peter Parker between your legs, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

It sort of happened all at once.  He just grabbed you and you were confused but went with it, because life is short and he was cute and his hands felt unexpectedly wonderful as they gripped your back.

You gasped a bit when he started to pull your shirt over your head but he didn’t slow down, quickly removing his own-- oh, hello there six-pack, nice to meet you-- kissing you again as he wrapped his hands around your waist and slid you off the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips.  He carried you to the bedroom with unexpected grace; he was so much stronger than he looked.  And he looked different than he ever had before as he tossed you down onto your bed and started to kiss his way down your abdomen while his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh god, Peter!” you yelped as he kissed along your thighs, pulling down your shorts and underwear and tossing them to the side.

“Say my name again,” he demanded before instantly latching onto your clit, sucking and licking directly onto the bundle of nerves.

And you really had no choice in the matter, his name pouring from your lips over and over, accentuated with a yelp as he shoved two fingers into you, finding and massaging your g-spot before you could even process everything you were feeling.

“Oh my god, fuck, Peter!” you hissed, your head falling back onto the mattress so hard it bounced a little.

You were barreling towards an orgasm faster than you probably ever had before.  This was nothing like the few other hook-ups you’d had since starting college-- it wasn’t even like the times you’d been alone with your hand or a vibrator.  This was like an assault on the senses, so powerful that you couldn’t even really keep track of the sounds you were making or anything that wasn’t his mouth on you and his fingers in you.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m gonna come don’t stop please--” you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense.  How could you be expected to form a sentence in these conditions?

Thankfully, he didn’t stop.  He kept lapping at your clit as if he hadn’t even noticed your pleading, his fingers twisting inside you even as your walls clenched so tightly around them that it became difficult to keep up the pace.  Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face, your legs quivered as he refused to give you any reprieve from the sensation, but he kept going.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck Peter I can’t-- it’s too much-- oh god,” you babbled, but it fell on deaf ears.  A small part of your brain was confused why he wouldn’t stop-- you hadn’t told him outright to stop but it was kind of implied, right?  Wasn’t it some amount of not okay that he was still going?  It made your gut sink in a way that was equal parts disturbing and erotic.  

You were trying to pull away but his arms wrapped around your thighs and held you down.  God, he was strong.  He looked kind of skinny in those hoodies he was usually wearing, but now that he was actually exerting some force he was clearly muscular.  You felt helpless and it, oddly enough, turned you on.

“Peter, please, oh my god, slow down I-- I can’t take any more,” you whimpered; your voice came out all high-pitched and squeaky and it would’ve been embarrassing if you had enough brainpower left to care.  

He groaned against your skin but said nothing, using his teeth to lightly graze your clit.  Your whole body jerked at that, a sob tearing from your lips suddenly.  It felt like you were past the point of orgasm now and just lost in some sort of aggressively intense world of pleasure-- it neared pain, really.  You had never been pushed to your limits like this; you hadn’t even realized that there were limits which one could be pushed to this way!  It was exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming.  You fought tears from forming because it would be so embarrassing to cry right now, and he would probably freak out and think you were hurt or something… maybe you were hurt, you couldn’t even tell at this point.  But at this point, it was unstoppable.  You were fucking crying from the overstimulation and he hadn’t even put his cock in you yet.  Your face was so hot that your own tears felt cool as they poured down your cheeks.

Finally, he stopped when he heard your sobs.  But instead of concern or fear or confusion, his expression was simply joy.

“Oh, you look so cute when you cry,” he cooed, sliding back up your body to kiss your tears away as they fell.  Then he kissed your mouth, open and sloppy and aggressive, and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your head spin.

Before you could collect your thoughts, he pulled back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers-- fuck, he was big.  

“You’re too kind,” he grinned, discarding the clothes and stroking his cock a few times.

You hadn’t realized you had said it out loud, and you felt a little nervous but then he was on you again, kissing you roughly and forcing his tongue into your mouth.  You felt him reaching down, gripping his cock and rubbing it through your folds.  You were soaked, and swollen, and nearly sore.  Every time the tip slid over your clit, you jumped a little.

He pushed into you ever so slightly, moving the head of his cock inside you and nothing more.  You whined with confusion and anticipation, but he continued on teasing you.

“Please,” you whimpered into his kiss.

He pulled back and looked down at you, his eyes blown so wide that they looked like they’d gone black.  “What was that?” he asked, and you sighed because you knew he could hear you the first time.

“Please, Peter,” you repeated, louder, “I need more.”

“More…?”

You sobbed with frustration, and desire.  “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusted forward and you groaned as his cock stretched you open.  It was like night and day, how he went from slowly teasing you to slamming into your eager walls.  You cried out and gripped at his arms, just trying to steady yourself and maybe stop your skull from whacking the headboard if possible.

“You love it, don’t you?  You love my cock,” he growled.  His voice was lower, gravelly.  He sounded like an entirely different person.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Say it,” he demanded.

No one had ever talked to you like this before and it made your cheeks burn.  “I-- I love your cock,” you stammered.  

He smiled and you hoped you’d done it right, and that he wasn’t smiling at your obvious nervousness or lack of experience.  You didn’t understand how this was normally supposed to go, because you didn’t normally hook up with people so casually-- you had just never really been interested in it.  But now that he was fucking you so hard you could barely breathe, you were starting to get the appeal.  God, your last boyfriend hadn’t even made you come in five months of dating, meanwhile five minutes with Peter had made you a sobbing mess.  Even now you were biting your lip to hold back your tears from the sheer intensity of the sensations you were experiencing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he pouted condescendingly.  “You don’t wanna cry but you can’t help it, huh?  You’re my dumb little crybaby aren’t you?”

You tried not to react to that but you knew he felt your walls clench suddenly.

“You like that?  You like being my stupid whore?”

“S-stop,” you begged weakly, feeling beyond humiliated.

“But you like it, angel, I can tell.  Don’t lie to me.”

He reached down to swirl his thumb over your clit, laughing at the way you tensed up and tried to squirm away.

“Is it too much princess?” he asked, but the nickname read less sweet and more mocking.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?  You asked me to fuck you.  Begged me.  Now you act like you can’t take it, like you’re this delicate little flower and not the dirty fucking whore I know you are.”

“I-- I’m not a whore,” you denied even as you struggled to suppress your obvious arousal from the derogatory nature of his words.  You felt a little guilty for being into it, and slightly insulted, but fuck if it didn’t make your back arch and your throat dry and your pussy so excessively wet.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he scoffed.  “But, maybe you’re not playing.  You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

You logically knew that it was too late to deny anything he said, but you still clung onto your dignity as best you could.  “N-no!”

“Not all the time, just when you’re wet.  Isn’t that right?  You get so desperate for cock and you don’t wanna be smart, you just wanna be somebody’s brainless fuckdoll.”

That sounded so appealing in some forbidden, filthy way and all of a sudden you were going to come again, any second now.

“Yes!” you nearly screamed, falling into your pleasure.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he encouraged, “come for me.”

You didn’t even sound like yourself with the noises you made, or maybe it was just that you’d never had the chance to make noises like that before.  Either way, your orgasm crashed through you and nearly punched the air out of your lungs.  Your toes went numb.  You didn’t even know that could happen.  And most important of all, your walls tensed and fluttered so hard that he began moaning into your ear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come inside you.”  You couldn’t tell if it was a warning, like he was asking permission, or if he was just informing you of his intentions which you would be powerless to stop even if you told him not to.  You didn’t have to find out because you were on the pill, but it made you realize all too suddenly that you should’ve had him put on a condom-- how could you have forgotten?

His moans turned hoarse and with a growl and a tightened grip on your hips, he spilled deep in you, coating your walls as his length flexed and twitched inside you.  For a moment you were just stuck like that, his weight holding you down as he caught his breath, and finally he rolled to the side and you could breathe cool air again.

“That was…” he began but trailed off, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder.  “You’re amazing.”

It was quite the shift from how he had been talking before.  It was comforting, but you were still a little confused.  “Really?”

He laughed softly.  “Did you not notice?  God, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

You were curious about where he was going with that, but then he suddenly sat up.

“Do you want some water?” he offered.

“Uh, yeah,” you smiled.  “The cups are in the cabinet just to the left of the microwave.”

He nodded and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the bed, slipping his boxers on over his still-hard cock which was now coated in your come and his, and dashing out of the room.

You were mostly content to just lay there, although you felt uncharacteristically sore between your legs, and quite… sticky.  You glanced over to your whiteboard and realized he never had any intentions of talking with you about abstract math.  Was this just a one-time thing, or was he going to come back and ask you out?  Were you boyfriend and girlfriend now?  Or were you just a clueless romantic who thought that sleeping together meant more than it really did?

You rolled over and saw Peter’s phone resting on the bedside table.  He must have set it there when he was stripping quickly while you two had been making out-- or that’s what you were pretty sure the order of events had been, it had all happened so fast…

At that exact moment, the screen lit up with a notification.  You were about to roll back and not look at all, until you got a glimpse of the words.

PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14

You furrowed your brow.  It looked like an alert for an upcoming class, except that this was your class, the one you had with him, and it wasn’t until tomorrow.  No assignments due today, either.  And what was with the row/seat thing?  Peter didn’t sit in the third row… you did.

You picked up the phone just enough to angle it to see the rest of the notification.  It wasn’t a calendar alert; it was a text message.  “PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14” was the contact name.  You could only get a preview of the message…

okay, it’s done isn’t it?  can you please delete those pic….

You were curious, or maybe just concerned.  Was the seat number supposed to be the person texting him?  How were you supposed to keep track of who sat where to know who it was?

It had to be somebody from your row, but it was just you, Jackie, and a bunch of random dudes that Peter had never seemed to have any interaction with.

You assumed you wouldn’t be able to unlock the phone to even try to snoop, which you didn’t want to do anyways, but when you slid your thumb over the screen, you gasped when it opened straight to the conversation.  Who didn’t put a password on their phone?

okay, it’s done isn’t it?  can you please delete those pictures now?  I did what you asked.  I won’t tell anyone.  just send me proof that the photos are gone, please.

You felt a little sick.  You had no idea what this meant but it scared you.  You saw the conversation from before but it didn’t make any sense.  You scrolled back up to try to figure out what they were talking about and gasped when you saw a picture Peter had sent to the contact.

It was Jackie.  But she wasn’t alone.  She was on her knees in the lab room, and you gagged when you realized what she was doing-- or really, who she was doing it to.  

She’d told you she had a casual thing with a new guy but refused to say who it was.  You realized why now.  She was fucking your professor, and you just knew she was doing it to get a better grade.  You had been trying to figure out how she was earning higher marks than you but never seemed to be able to discuss the class material.  It all made sense now, but it wasn’t a comforting feeling.

You scrolled down a bit to see the conversation after the photo, and your blood went cold as you read it.

You saw several more messages but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of it.  You knew everything you needed to know.

You weren’t sure what inspired you to open his camera roll… of course you wouldn’t find anything comforting there.  But you had to see for yourself.

It was just a list of folders, so many you could keep scrolling for ages.  Each had a label and a thumbnail image.

The thumbnail of Jackie on her knees jumped out first.  PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14.  45 images.

A girl in a lacy bra posing for the camera.  PHYS 509, row 1, seat 8.  12 images.

Two girls making out in a crowded room, holding red solo cups.  ENGL 104, row 12, seat 5.  6 images.

A nude selfie in front of a mirror.  PHIL 108, row 2, seat 2.  14 images.

And then the one that made your heart stop.  It was a picture of you in a bikini, taken by a friend on spring break.  PHYS 507, row 3, seat 13.  1 image.

The second you jumped up, dropping the phone, he was there with your promised glass of water in hand.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently.  Just a second of silence was enough for him to pick up his phone from the floor and realize what had happened with a grin.  “Oh, that,” he sighed, slipping it into his pocket after looking down at it with a sort of loving look, like he was proud of his work.  “I suppose it’s my fault for leaving my phone right there, without a password, knowing I would get a text from Jackie any minute.”

“You wanted me to see it,” you grimaced, “you wanted me to see what you did to my friend.  What you did to all those girls.”

“I didn’t do anything.  They do all the heavy lifting, I just hack them and get pictures of it.  Or, in your friend’s case, I hack them, find out they’re fucking the professor, and follow them to their next rendezvous.”

“You’re fucking sick,” you spat, and he just shrugged.  “You’d better delete those photos of Jackie.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he soothed.  “It’s a shame though, she was pretty prolific.  You, on the other hand, you’re a good girl.  You even had pretty good security, I respect that.  Here’s a tip: your ISP creates the intranet that your wireless webcam uses to connect to your laptop.  It’s password protected, but it defaults to your phone number, and most people never change it.  Including yourself.”

You shivered.  “You watched me with it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to since you didn’t have any good photos of yourself.  And you do a decent job of erasing your porn history… but not a perfect job.  You watch some interesting stuff.  And you look so hot with your hand stuffed in your panties, rubbing yourself to whatever nasty shit you’re watching...”

“Shut up,” you demanded, covering your ears, “stop, please.  This is so fucked up.”

He laughed a little.  “You look better in person though.  A webcam could never capture how perfect you look when you come.”

“Please just stop,” you sobbed.

“Stop what?  I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I should’ve listened to my friends.  You’re a freak.”

“Hmm, you seemed to like it before.”

“Just delete those pictures of Jackie… and let me go…” you seethed.

“I will,” he promised.  “But, I need something to make up for the loss of some great spank bank material.”

You felt sick.  But what else was new?

“I need to finally get some good pictures of you.  Come on, isn’t it sad that your folder is so empty?” he pouted, pulling the phone back out from his pocket. “I could ruin a lot of lives with these folders.  Just let me take a few photos and you can spare them all the humiliation.  Nothing I haven’t seen you do before.”

You really really wanted to just deck him, but you knew he could probably release those photos with just one push of a button.  He was prepared.

“Don’t post them,” you pleaded.

“You’ll be good?”

You clenched your jaw.  “I’ll be good,” you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, “such a sweet girl you are.  Helping out your friend even after she threw you into the lion’s den to protect her secret.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way.  A pit formed in your stomach.

“Now come over here and get on your knees,” he grinned, turning on the camera.    

#peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #dark!peter parker #dom peter parker x sub reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dom!peter parker #dom!peter parker x sub reader #spiderman x reader #night monkey x reader #lmao #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n #sabs dream fic challenge

[badmcuposts]

Mini-Tony

For: @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Gifted to: @floweryfran

Warnings: none?

-

“Tones, drop the act.” Rhodey ordered vaguely, storming into the lab as if he owned the place.

“What act?” Tony asked, less confused and more dismissive about the assertion that he would dare put up an act. That would take a lot of work he didn’t want to put in. The man kind of had a planet to constantly defend, you know.

Rhodey sighed, sitting down and putting on his serious face. “We all know you cloned yourself.” He spoke.

At the moment, Tony thought it had been a joke, since it so obviously had to be. But, his friend only continued until it all became far too alarming for Tony to ignore.

“I mean, really, Tony? This is a major federal crime! You know you could get the FBI called on you for this? Why would you be so reckless? How could you? It’s... it’s mad! You’ve really lost it, man. Come on, just let it go!”

Tony stared at his former MIT roommate, dazed and confused as he contemplated the sanity of the man before him. What was Rhodey on?

“Okay,” he began, “not entirely sure how I’m supposed to break this to you, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

In a shock, Rhodey’s body twitched, a visceral reaction to what Tony saw as a completely normal response to being accused of human cloning. “You... you didn’t clone yourself?” He questioned idiotically.

“No, I didn’t fucking clone myself!” Tony relented as he began to sardonically laugh, “What would make you honestly believe that I would do such a thing?”

At that, his friend went quiet. Tony watched the shy blush creep onto Rhodey’s cheeks, a deep and red tint running down his neck like a historically accurate thanksgiving. The colonel’s brown eyes looked up into the sky, as if searching for a way out of the situation on the celling.

Abruptly, he mumbled something incoherent under his breath.

“What?” The billionaire in the room tentatively asked, still laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Was he okay?

“Peter...” Rhodey murmured again, now audible, whether he wanted to be or not. That’s it, Tony thought, he’s lost it.

“Did... did you say Peter?” He asked again, more to himself than the other man. There was no way, absolutions no way, that Rhodey had actually just said the kid’s name.

“Yes! Peter, okay?”

Tony stood, shell shocked. “What... what does m-the kid have to do with you accusing me of breaking federal law and cloning myself in my private lab without shame?”

“It’s just- god it sounds so stupid now- he’s like... a mini-Tony.” Rhodey relented, his blush deepening quickly under the scrutinizing gaze of his best friend.

“A mini-Tony?” The man repeated, monotonic and blank in the face.

“Yes!” Rhodey shouted, “Stop tormenting me, you doofus. It’s a perfectly reasonable concern.” At the zenith of his mockery, Tony dies down, suddenly more interested in the how.

“You... you noticed that the kid and I have a few vague similarities and decided it meant I had cloned myself? Are you okay?” He asked.

Rhodey gasped, and initiated a debate nor mortal could ever be prepared to wage.

“It is not a few vague similarities and you know it! He’s exactly like you. The curly brown hair, the deep eyes, the general figure, the-”

“You’re describing every American male of Italian descent within a five-hundred mile radius.”

“It’s not just the looks, though. He acts just like you! I mean, his IQ has to be-”

“If you dare accuse my intellect of being equal to that of a sixteen year old child I am going to lose it.”

“Oh, stop being so grumpy about it! You know I’m right.”

“Boss,” FRIDAY finally interrupted, saving them from their fall from grace over such a trivial disagreement, “It appears that Captain Rogers is attempting to enter the lab. Should I approve him access or would you prefer some mid-afternoon entertainment by allowing him to attempt to break the cap-proof glass?”

“Eh, let him in.” Tony motioned, watching as the sleek, modern doors of the lab slid open to reveal a red-faced Captain America.

The man almost seemed... livid? Loathsome? Whatever emotion it was, it wasn’t good. “Old man probably broke his hip or something if he’s this interested in getting into my one room of peace and quiet.”

Steve entered, snarling in his elderly fashion. “Tony, I’m going to ask this once and pray to mother Mary that your answer is a resounding no.” “Ooooo, threatening. What’s up, buttercup?” Tony jested, a resoundingly low-effort reaction as the genius felt as though he no longer could be phased by his teammates’ quarrels.

“Did you give Sam my shield?” Steve asked, his eyebrows quirking subjectively.

Tony was confused. “What? No. Why would I give Sam your... oh god.” Suddenly, all at once, pieces in Tony’s mind began to place themselves together in one all too real puzzle of comprehension.

Steve grew worried at his own lack of context, as Rhodey followed suit in the paranoia. “What? What did you do, Tony?”

The man squeaked. “I- I think the kid might have done it.”

And that was it, he’d sealed his fate in Rhodey’s eyes. The other man began to seethe, smoke nearly bellowing out of his ears as his chance at glory was redeemed.

“DO YOU SEE WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, TONY? DO YOU?”

“He said he wanted to play a prank, he didn’t say anything about giving Capsicle over there’s shield to the one person that would almost definitely try to destroy it for fun.” Tony shrugged, hoping to move the attention away from himself for the moment being.

Steve looked estranged. “Wait- what were you talking about?” “The kid!” Rhodey earned him in, “Isn’t he just like Tony? It’s like he cloned himself!” “I didn’t fucking clone myself, platypus.” Tony interrupted, only to be cut off by an extra presence in the room.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Peter asked, jovial as ever in his youthful stride. Of course, that didn’t last too long, as the boy was quickly stopped dead in his tracks by an onslaught of demands.

“Did you give my shield to Sam?”

“What’s your IQ, kid?”

“Pete, run!”

Peter stood still, confused and dazed by the screaming in his face. “Oooookkkaaayyyyyy. I’m gonna take this as my sign to kindly remove myself from the situ-”

“No! No you don’t, Parker.” Rhodey interjected, “You’re gonna entertain us for a little while, alright?”

Peter’s eyes grew wide. “Mr. Colonel Rhodes Sir, I have no idea why I’m being interrogated but if this is about the shield thing I can-”

“No, no, Peter. We just want to talk.” Rhodey said, unconvincingly, “Come on, sit down. It’ll be fun, some nice little bonding time with the newest addition to the team.”

Peter looked back to his mentor for support, only to find a blank face of fear and desperation. He knew there was no escape. “Okay.” The teen agreed.

“Great, now, where are you thinking about attending college?”

“What?” Peter asked.

Tony shrugged his shoulders at it all. “Just answer their questions, Pete. He won’t give up.”

Peter quickly accepted that as as much of an explanation as he was going to get any time soon, and lamented. “Uhhh MIT?”

“Good, good. And how’s your sleep schedule?” Rhodey continued.

Peter scoffed. “It’s there, I guess.”

Steve’s eyes began to grow. Oh god, Tony thought, he’s being indoctrinated. Rhodey kept it up. “Vague. I like it. Do you have any friends at school?

Peter made an off kilter face at that. “Just my best friend, Ned, and my girlfriend. I’m not much of a people person.”

“And you’re an orphan, right?”

Suddenly, Peter grew completely tense, obviously uncomfortable with the question. “Woah, dude. Not cool.”

“It’s not personal, I’m just curious.” Rhodey quelled, “You can not answer if that’s more comfortable.”

Peter calmed a bit at that. “No, no, no, no, no. I’m fine, it’s just- yeah. Yeah. I’m an orphan. Whatever. Keep going.”

Rhodey leaned in on the new path of questioning. “And what all do you know about that- the murder, that is?”

Peter laughed a little, switching into a jokind manner. “Is this a police thing? Do you think I killed my parents?” “If I give you context, it will sway your answers.” Rhodey joked back, but he wasn’t joking.

“Plane crash.” Peter said. “Some kind of set up. The- uh- SHIELD people said it was HYDRA but that’s still sort of up in the air. Cold case and all.”

“Okay, thank you. And what about-”

“Nope, stop torturing him.” Tony interrupted, “Kid, run for it.”

Peter laughed as he got up and began to walk away from the colonel. “I’m still so confused.” He expressed.

Tony felt like it was necessary to key the boy into the situation. “Rhodey over there that thinks I cloned myself and that you’re secretly an illegal recreation of my DNA sequences.” He explained.

At that, Peter looked the other man over, before leaning in towards his mentor to quietly whisper “Is... is he okay?”

Tony breathed out in relief at the boy’s nonchalance. “I have no idea.”

Steve caught into the conversation, adding his own two cents. “For the record, I’m on Rhodes’ side now. You too are the same person.”

“He’s sixteen!” Tony complained:

“Yeah!” The boy agreed, quick as lighting, almost as if by reflex. “And he’s, like, thirty.” “Oh, god, I am so happy you just called me thirty.” Tony gasped.

Rhodey mused in his small sextor of the complete bliss one should find when faced witn a minor victory. “Point is, same person.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You two are exhausting. I had one night stands back in my partying days that had more sense than you guys do. Come on, Peter, let’s go get ice cream.”

“Can we get Burger King, instead?” The teenager chirped.

The man perked up at the notion. “I love Burger King!” “Yes! Let’s go, Mr. Stark, I have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“Polar opposites, you and me.”

“Yep! Polar opposites!”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #tony stark #robert downey jr #irondad #my fics #peter parker #rhodey #colonel james rhodes #james rhodes #steve rogers #avengers endgame #chris evans

[kuroopaisen]

not to throw my two cents /now/ but for shows like aot (I personally stopped after s2 and i havent rly considered picking it up again yet), there definitely are problematic elements and depictions that should be called out when necessary—and we need to especially listen to those whose identities were unfairly treated. anime and manga aren’t innocent of problems, as are the artists behind it :,)

I won’t lie, japan still continues to be sketchy w how they teach and treat their history, but ig we as watchers/readers these media can remain critical of what we consume ? the act of watching smth w fascist elements doesn’t mean you condone it ! and choosing not to watch or support (i find these to be different things) bc of those problematic elements is also valid.

oH and I personally don’t rly like aot either from what I’ve been seeing LMAO as a person who dedicated 2 years of high school to extensive studying of history it’s just :\\\\\\ I think all the points have been made by ppl before me, and by you!! 

hello miss yuki!! first of all, i think the idea that people can’t consume Problematic Media is. is stupid because. humans are capable of critical thinking DJLSDALKJ that’s like... our thing. and just because something’s ‘problematic’ doesn’t mean there’s nothing valuable to draw from it? and by that, i mean... sometimes i specifically seek out things i know i’ll disagree with so i can actually talk about it properly, instead of relying on heresay. 

i guess it’s like the jk r*wling thing. do i think people who enjoy harry potter are militant transphobes? no! do i think it’s a bit shifty to spend money on harry potter merch that isn’t secondhand and is therefore putting coins in miss transphobes pockets? yes! there’s difference between consuming and supporting for sure. 

people have complicated relationships with media and internet discourse tends to make things too black-and-white. where do we draw the line? does resonating with shinji’s story in neon genesis evangelion mean you now support sexualising underage girls? does enjoying harry potter mean you condone fatphobia? does enjoying my hero academia mean you hate the lower classes? 

but at the same time, if someone wants to steer clear of something because of those kinds of things, they absolutely have a right to and neither them nor their intelligence should be insulted for that. a lot of people like to throw around “oh you just don’t understand” as an insult and honestly, Shut Up. leave people be.

ANYWAY aot 

yeah a lot of my problems with aot come down to isayama using a metaphor that isn’t even his to draw on. even if the pernicious aspects are unintentional, they’re still harmful. and also, it’s pretty obvious that isayama’s done his research? with how well the story emulates certain facts in history (and even referencing the madagascar plan hh), there’s no way isayama doesn’t know what he’s talking about. and you can’t really brush up on your knowledge of wwii without the whole antisemitism thing, so... 

but i think an issue i have with a lot of the criticism towards aot is that it comes from a very Western perspective; and i get that to a degree, but it’s also important to think about where the author comes from and who he’s writing for. that doesn’t exonerate any of the problematic aspects to any degree, but context is. well, sometimes it’s everything 

for example, i don’t think the question is so much “is isayama a nazi” as it is “is isayama trying to justify japanese expansionism” because while both are awful, one question is more relevant to what he’s likely to believe (even in the infamous twitter screenshots, he pretty staunchly seems anti-holocaust). i think ethnocentric criticisms muddy the water. 

i’m a dual major in anthropology and history, and while that absolutely doesn’t give me authority, it means i tend to focus more on this sort of thing? there’s no way isayama could’ve known that attack on titan would become so... global? and an issue with episodic things of any nature is that it’s almost impossible to analyse them in their whole until it’s finished. aaaand in most cases, that takes years.

so regardless of what isayama intended, that means there are still right-wing groups that love aot and see it as a metaphor for the great replacement, or there’s people who see it as a justification to abandon pacifism, and so on. but there are also people who see it as a staunchly anti-war story, or a narrative about the cycle of hatred. 

YEAH w the watching vs. supporting, i’ve actually been streaming aot on gogoanime because i didn’t know what i’d think of it when i started, even though i have an animelab and crunchyroll subscription. the question is, am i giving it social capital by discussing it online? some would say yes (i’ve got a platform, and just talking about it in general gives it affluence), some would say no (even if i have a platform, it’s small in the grand scheme of things, and how many people are actually reading my mini essays?)

ANYWAY this is largely incoherent i’m so sorry sdalkjfslfkdj look after yourself!!  

#I'M SO SORRY THIS GOT LONG #yuki 🌸 #rowan watches attack on titan #awanggan #rowan replies

[dangan-happy]

KAME-HAME FORGET ABOUT IT!

I would like to say thank you to mod taichi, mod rantaro and mod komaeda. I am the anon who was desperate, the one who struggles with academic issue, keep sleeping past midnight because of extra chores, and struggling with executive dysfunction. I don't know how to refer myself haha

It's funny, I saw the notification from your blog about my ask when I was REALLY in need of comfort unexpectedly. it was one of the worse day, I failed the selection to go to college I'm aiming for. there is an alternate way by taking a test but it was a huge and important thing for me, because other relatives would talk (or possibly brag) about how their children are doing wonderfully in academic stuff to my parents. I don't want my parents to feel embarrassed because of me. so of course, it gives me a LOT of anxiety. my heart is beating rapidly that my chest hurts so much.

Then I receive your response to my ask. It's very comforting, it calmed me down. I may teared up a bit. I really appreciate the advices, encouragements, and hugs. (I love hugs) Especially mod komaeda's advices. Thank you so much, I appreciate them. They really mean a lot to me. I didn't realize how much I needed all of these. To be honest, when I was re-reading my ask, I almost can't believe I typed all that. I didn't realize how much I struggled and desperate I am. It was truly a moment of weakness lmao

I've been struggling to respond your response because,, well. I'm still struggling haha. Unfortunately, after I send that ask, things are getting hella rough for me. It was one of those unlucky phase of time, where your days get worse each day, except this time is WAY worse because I'm going to graduate in a month and I have an important exam in two days. Then I got hit by other problems too like a member of my group project doesn't corporate so we were late to submit and it was even half done (it happened just a hour ago and it gives me an emotional breakdown because it was an important one but I'm fine now), I got blamed for something I didn't do (this happens a lot anyway but I'm very drained mentally and physically), I accidentally spat something that I've been keeping to myself to my parents and made them angry (I don't want to talk about my true feelings to them bc they only make me feel worse or worse, they get upset), more homeworks to catch up and more stressful stuff .

Basically anxiety is on my ass 24/7. It's the worst time of my life.

But whenever I hit rock bottom I would re-read your response and it lifts me up, you know? It always cheers me up reading your kind words about me, and as cheesy as it sounds, it makes me feel hopeful haha. But I never felt this hopeful before. So I'm very thankful for it, and thankful for the other mods who work hard helping other people too who come to this blog. Because even though I'm still struggling and facing the worst time right now, I'm not doing as bad as before.

Is it alright if I ask for another hug? Sorry, this whole ask ended up with me venting again haha. But I really am doing not as bad as before... I guess I'm doing better. Step by step maybe. Again, thank you so much!!

( By the way, this is out of topic but... hopefully people who know me don't recognize me on this blog for this question haha (if they do then oh well. shrugs): which one does look scarier for you, Once-ler from Lorax or the character designs from the movie called Cats (2019)? I'm not hating the movie, my friend and I are having a lighthearted discourse about it. u_u )

(Neither. Neither one is even that scary at all, for I fear nothing ~ Mod Hajime 🍊🌈)

---

O-Oh, welcome back, kiddo! Whoa, that’s quite the ask you got here. But it’s more or less an update, i-if I’m correct, and a decent one at th-that. Like you said, it’s all step by step progress, wh-which is still progress no matter how you look at it.

I-I hate to hear that there’s been a few extra bumps along the road since your last ask, b-but I’m at least glad to hear that you’ve been making some sort of progress. Progress is still progress, no matter what. I-I’m just glad that you came to us. I-I’m just some average programmer, but I will agree that Nagito and Rantaro did amazing. Nagito’s... quite the interesting kiddo, but he means well, and Rantaro’s a brotherly figure th-that everyone likes, one way or another. Me? Ah, well... I-I can at least give good hugs, I guess?

S-Speaking of hugs, I’d love to give you one. I-I can at least do that right, heh. I’ll give you as many hugs as you want, kiddo. I personally don’t mind at all.

-

Hey there anon, you don't have to worry about referring to yourself, I remember you just fine! Hey, how's that for awesome timing huh? I'm glad you could read our answers when you needed it. I'm sorry to hear that you were having a worse day, but hey, it sounds like there's a way to make that test up a different way, so I'd give your all to trying that route. Don't give up just yet ok? Damn, yeah, I'm no stranger to the whole family bragging thing, that's a whole lot of pressure I think both of us can do without. It's really thoughtful of you to worry about your parents in this scenario, but you can worry about yourself too ok? Regardless of what you do, they should still be proud of you, and if they aren't, they're completely oblivious to your intelligence level and the amazing things you can do. Aw, I'm smiling real hard hearing how much our response helped, I'm always worried that I didn't help, or I somehow made it worse. Not gonna lie, this did give me a confidence boost. Hey, it's ok, you were in a more emotional state. It wasn't a moment of weakness. Everyone breaks down like that from time to time, and I'm happy that we were here to help you at the time. So don't feel bad about that, you're only human, and it's ok to get like that.

You don't have to worry about having the perfect response either. As much as I wish we could, we can't automatically fix any anons' problems, we can only toss our two cents in and cross our fingers that it helps. The good news is that you came to us with your struggles again, so we can try to help some more. Eesh, yeah, those periods are never fun. Pretty sure Komaeda knows more about them than I do, but I can understand at the least. First of all, congrats on graduating! That's real impressive all by itself, so hopefully you can take some pride in that. Ugh, ok, wow, the second part of that. Damn I got hit with all the feels. I hate it when group projects go like that. I'm usually stuck with all the work, or the one who's up at one am trying to finish the damn thing. I think I'm getting kinda incoherent, so sorry about that. I'm glad you're doing better on that end though, hopefully things work out with that. Aw man, I'm really sorry to hear about the blaming thing. Is there any way to prove your innocence? I'm not saying go all class trial or anything, but is there any way for you to argue your case? Even if it happens a lot, that doesn't mean it's ok. You shouldn't have to get used to things like that.

Yikes, yeah I can totally relate to the last part too. I'm also the type to clam up about my feelings because I don't wanna make anyone mad, but that happens some times, and honestly you had every right to say how you feel. You're keeping this all in, and it's gonna take a toll on you. Yeah, that's a whole lot of stress for one person to carry. I'm really impressed you haven't crashed and burned under the weight, seriously, you're an amazing, strong, resilient/ person, and it just blows me away. Trust me, you're gonna get through this stressful time. You're getting close to the end of it, and I know that you're gonna make it through. Damn, I'm smiling and blushing now. I'm really really glad we were able to help you out that much. Good! It's not cheesy at all! I'm glad you're feeling hopeful! The little steps are just as valuable as the big ones, and the fact that you're at least doing a little bit better is fantastic. Of course you can have another hug! It's ok, we're here to listen to vents, so say whatever you want to, no one's gonna judge you, I promise. Yeah, step by step, that's how you do it. 

Oh damn, that's an interesting question. Honestly, I unironically love the Lorax movie, so the Oncerler ain't scary to me. Cats however...that was a trip. I don't have a better way to describe it, it was just a trip. So the Cats designs are way scarier. Like if I met the Onceler in a dark alley, I'd be just fine, but if I saw a cat-human-thing in a dark alley, I'd run for the hills. However, if I met the onceler fandom in a dark alley, that's a whole other story. Ok, I think I'm rambling again, so I think I better stop talking. Keep making those small steps forward ok? You got this.

W-wow... my advice actually helped someone? Please tell me your joking, or better yet pinching me. I can’t believe my little words could affect you so much.... I think I’m tearing up... hehe. I gotta admit, Rantaro and Taichi did a better job than me! What else do you expect from two amazing Ultimates! Anon, I’m terribly sorry to hear that some things have turned up and made your life a bit more harder, but I want you to keep your chin up ok? You’re doing amazing Anon, I can truly tell! Having a partner that doesn’t help with group projects stinks too! It’s ok that you vented again, it’s always good to speak your mind when you feel bad! Helps to let other people hear to so they can help you! And hey, compliments from Taichi? So nice of you! Never heard myself being called an “interesting kiddo” it’s cute!

I thought you’d never ask! I’d love to give you another hug! As long as you’d let me, I get worried when people want to hug me since I’m utter garbage, but if it makes you feel Hope, then I’m happy to oblige! Ah, and the Onceler or the designs of cats? I’d say the cats, I remember everyone having the hots for the Onceler once, so he can’t be that bad, right?

#danganronpa #danganronpa roleplay blog #ask #taichi fujisaki #rantaro amami #nagito komaeda #mod hajime #mod rantaro #mod nagito

[romantichopelessly]

Kiss Meme: 20 + Moceit

Kisses Prompts ((CLOSED))

Deceit was still… getting used to this whole “friendship” thing.

Ever since the “light sides” had made reforming him their sort of personal pet project, Deceit had heard the term and others like it in reference to him thrown around far too often.

When Roman asked for tips on his portrayal of a certain character Thomas was playing, it was ‘asking a friend for advice.’

When Thomas wanted help crafting a lie so that he could surprise a friend, he referred to Deceit as his ‘buddy.’

When Logan wanted a differing view on a philosophy that came up during a conversation Thomas was having, he consulted Deceit because he was ‘under the impression that that was what friends do.’

When Virgil tolerated Deceit’s presence around the Mindscape and didn’t actively start a fight, Patton cooed over ‘what great friends they were becoming.’

That was another huge difference. Patton. Morality. A month ago, Deceit considered Patton a sworn enemy, but now…

Now Patton was quite possibly the most confusing new ‘friend’ of all.

Patton dropped the f-word on a daily basis. No, an hourly basis.

When he wished Deceit a good morning.

“Dee! Good morning, friendo!”

When he roped Deceit into helping him make baked goods.

“Scale back the sugar there, friend! These cookies are gonna be as sweet as you if we don’t slow down!”

And on the worst of the occasions, he would make direct eye contact with the snake side, looking oh so earnest, and just… spill his feelings like it was nothing.

“Hey, Dee…? I just wanted to say that it really means a lot to me that you’ve been hanging around here more often. You really are one of my best friends, you know?”

That little stunt had shaken Deceit to his core. The lying side had wasted no time making up an excuse to rush out of there and to his room, his scale-less cheek burning with heat for a reason that he could not quite comprehend.

Thankfully, being a ‘friend’ to the light sides was not all confusing. Actually, the four were comfortingly transparent, which was ironic coming from him. They were obvious with their motivations and feelings, and it was a nice change of pace for the lying side.

One of the most rewarding experiences of this newfound friendship was movie night.

Apparently, the light sides had a tradition of spending one night a week, crammed together on a couch too small for four full-grown men, let alone five, sharing two bowls of popcorn, and watching at least two movies, one of which was always Disney.

The first night that Deceit was invited to a movie night, he was more than a bit uncomfortable. He sat on the edge of his seat for the entirety of two Lion King movies. He didn’t even allow himself to sing along to the villain songs like he usually would have. As soon as the movies were finished, Deceit had smiled politely at the other sides and left for his room.

By Deceit’s fifth movie night, he had his very own movie night onesie, courtesy of Roman, and the courage to offer his two cents in choosing the night’s movie.

Settling back onto the couch, sandwiched between Logan and Patton, Deceit was actually…. content. So content, it seemed, that he found himself drifting off during the second half of Aladdin.

The next thing that he knew, Deceit was being gently shaken awake. Burrowing his face further into the soft material that his head was resting on, Deceit grumbled incoherently, brushing the hand on his shoulder away.

“Dee, sweetpea, the movie’s over.” The voice coming from just above Deceit’s head was Patton’s, his tone light and caring. “We need to get you to bed.”

Deceit blinked blearily, finally forcing himself to open his eyes. His eyes widened significantly as he recognized the soft, gray fleece material beneath his cheek.

Patton’s onesie.

Deceit stiffened at the sight, his mind racing to piece together what had happened. He had fallen asleep during the movie, obviously, but to fall asleep on Patton of all sides-

The hand on his shoulder reappeared, this time a still, comforting presence. “Hey. It’s okay, Dee.” Deceit’s breath hitched at the touch, but he didn’t move. Like a snake caught in the headlights, he froze completely.

Patton either didn’t notice the stiffness of his newfound cuddle buddy, or didn’t acknowledge it. “I promise. Ro and V have fallen asleep on me too many times to count. I mean… that’s not the same as this, I guess, but you can lie on me anytime!” Patton chuckled at his own joke, but Deceit’s brow furrowed as he recognized the slight… nervousness in Patton’s tone. He didn’t get a chance to ask, however, because as soon as he opened his mouth, Patton’s fingers were. carding through his hair.

Deceit bit his lower lip, his face heating up significantly. He couldn’t help but press his scaled cheek further into the soft material of Patton’s cat onesie as he relaxed into the touch. He hissed softly as Patton’s chuckles tapered off.

There were a few moments of silence that followed, and Deceit took the opportunity to look around the room. The other sides were already gone, presumably up to their rooms. The television was dark, shrouding the room in shadows, save for the single lamp in the corner that was still on.

“Is this…” Deceit’s voice wavered slightly. Patton’s fingers never stopped stroking his hair. “Is this a….. friendship thing?”

Patton was quiet for a minute, his breathing slow and steady. “More or less.” He finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Deceit’s heart seized in his chest. “Are you okay with that?”

Was he? Deceit knew that there was no pressure to answer, so he took a moment to think it over. He found that he did enjoy being friends with the light sides. It was more than just refreshing, it was… comforting. But… more? More with Patton sounded… nice. Really nice.

Deceit found himself nodding before he had even opened his mouth. “N- I mean- Yes. That sounds… okay. Good.” He pushed the words out, trying to make it absolutely clear that he was not lying. He couldn’t have Patton misunderstanding him.

Deceit could feel Patton’s smile, but he looked up to see it anyway. Patton’s smiles were dazzling. He had known that even before he had begun hanging around the light sides more. A matching smile tugged on Deceit’s own lips.

Suddenly, a soft pair of lips were pressed against Deceit’s forehead, right where his scales met his skin. Instantly, Deceit’s face heated. Patton kept his lips pressed against the skin for a moment before pulling back and settling down, resting his cheek against the top of Deceit’s head.

“Good.”

Deceit paused for a moment before turning back and resting his head against Patton’s chest once more. Soon enough, he could hear the moral side’s breaths evening out, and Deceit finally closed his eyes again.

Friendship with the light sides wasn’t so bad, but with Patton, more… more sounded amazing.

#moceit #moceit fic #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #patton sanders #sanders sides #ts sides #ts patton #ts deceit #ts morality #morality sanders #ts moceit #romantic moceit #patceit

[otome-writer51]

A Ninja’s Kin Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

————————————

Meanwhile, someone a little ways away was struggling to get out of his restraints. Desperate to help his mother, he did not wish for this to be the last way he saw his mother alive.

“Takeshi, come on, we have to go help mom,” said Haru in a hurry, “We need to go now!”

Confused at how his little brother got out of his restraints, Takeshi was incoherently stringing together sentences. “Hdsndgd yoihuv ojbb kdhriegrjnfd.”

Shaking his head and laughing Haru mocked, “What? What was that, Takeshi? I can't hear you.” Snickering at his brother's expense, Haru was using this as his revenge on him... for now.

“NABD JXAHDUH ADUDU,” angrily spatting at Haru, Takeshi glared at his brother, demanding he untie him.

Deciding his big brother had had enough, Haru pulled off his gag, and moved behind him to cut him out of his ropes.

“Haru, how did you get out?” Takeshi couldn’t get the words out fast enough, asking his brother questions, almost as if it were a rapid fire.

“Calm down, brother. Does it really matter? I am out and now I am getting you out. But… if you must know, I used my handy shuriken, the one that daddy gave me for my birthday!”

Feeling very proud of himself at freeing his brother Haru stood, puffing out his little chest.

Rubbing his wrists, Takeshi continued to ask questions. “How did he not get that from you? Haru, that man checked us for weapons. Where in the world did you keep that?”

“Nowhere important,” Haru brushed the elder off.

Takeshi gave him a dubious look, but decided to let that one go. There were more important things that needed to be dealt with at the moment, like saving their mother’s life.

Standing up to his full height, Takeshi looked around for a way he could possibly help. Seeing nothing that could potentially help, Takeshi hung his head low, ashamed at not being able to help his mother when she needed it most.

Haru, noticing his brother's sullen expression, began to think up his own ideas. Looking around, he was about to give up as well, when he spotted something that could be useful. “Oh!!!”

Over by the veranda, there were rocks lining the flower beds. Big enough to hurt, but also small enough for the boys to throw.

“Takeshi!!!” The younger one called out, “The ROCKS, Takeshi, the rocks! We can use the rocks.” Gesturing madly to the rocks, Haru grabbed his older brother's hand and started dragging him over to where the rocks lay. “We can use them to distract him, giving mom enough time to gain the advantage.”

Takeshi followed his little brother, feeling very impressed with him. Whenever they were in a pinch, he could always count on Haru, he thought. This fact only made Takeshi feel guilty about the way he had treated his little brother earlier. “Hey, Haru?”

“Hmm, what is it, Takeshi?” Haru looked back at his brother with searching eyes.

“Well… um… I just wanted… to say…” Takeshi trailed off, finding it very hard to apologize; it was a skill he was not very good at.

“Go oooonnnnn!” Haru teasingly urged his brother.

Arriving at the flower beds, Takeshi mustered all the courage he could find. “Haru, I just wanted to say I am very sorry for the way I treated you earlier. I just want to be an amazing ninja, and I want you to be one too. I lost myself,” he sadly admitted.

The younger stared in amazement at what he was hearing. His brother apologizing, and apologizing to him, no less.

“I am extremely proud of myself for how far I have advanced in my training, but that does not give me any right to put you and Sakura down. You two are younger than me, so of course you guys have some more learning to do, but you are both very skilled for your ages. Honestly, you are even better than I was at your age, an-and...”

Punching his brother in the chest, Haru smirked at the pained expression the other wore.

“Ow! What was that for? I was trying to be remorseful, here.” Takeshi rubbed his chest, hoping to ease the ache from six-year-old’s punch.

“Save it for someone that actually wants to hear it, like Sakura. She loves that sappy stuff. I, on the other hand, don’t want an elder brother who’s going to coddle me, and go easy on me all the time,” Haru insisted with an air of cockiness, “After all, I know for a fact that when we grow older, I am going to be a better ninja than you in every way possible.”

Takeshi stared at his brother in shock. The one time in his life he tried to be the better person, they didn't want to hear it. “Haru I… just- uh, please accept my apology.” He looked at his little brother straight in the eyes; he wasn’t going to let him get out of this one.

“Fine, I guess I have no choice,” sighing, Haru relented. “For the record, I do look up to you and I love you, Take-shit.”

Chuckling at the younger’s choice of nickname for him, Takeshi smiled, “I love you too.”

“Great! Now that we got all the mushy stuff out of the way, how about we get back to the plan at hand here, hmm?” Haru said, reminding him that they had something to do, and that they needed to act fast.

Smiling at each other, the brothers started gathering the rocks, ready to aid their mother in battle.

————————————

“Hraaaghh!” He was not letting up and, if anything, his strikes were only getting more forceful. My opponent was high on adrenaline and it was not going to dissipate any time soon.

‘I don’t know how much longer can I keep this up. He will not spare me a moment's opening.’ I couldn't help but think, ‘I can keep this going for a while, but eventually one of us will tire out. I am only me, and I am fairly certain this man knows nothing of what fatigue is.”

He was slashing at me with his blades, which were met with a clang, making contact with mine. “Give it up, you are no match for me,” he growled at me.

“Never will I give up!” I spat at him, “Not after you so rudely invade my home, hurt my children, and so violently attack me. To add to it, you are too pathetic to even tell me your name.” Side-swiping him I spun, bringing my blade down on his head, only for my attempt to be met with another clang from his swords.

He pushed me back with an enormous amount of strength. I staggered, faltering. His cold, sickening voice reached my ears, “I told you, my name is of no importance; you won't live long enough to tell anyone.” Then, using my stumble to his advantage, he pounced on me.

My own blade saved me once again, blocking his attack from slicing right through me. Pushing in close, he glared at me, seething with anger, just mere centimeters away from my face.

‘He even smells like hatred and death.’ I would’ve believed this man to be death himself, if not for the fact that he had not yet managed to send me to hell.

He shoved harder, almost knocking me on my back. He would’ve had me right where he wanted me if not for a saving grace…

“Hey you big, old, stinky man! Get away from our mother!” my six-year-old, Haru, shouted at the imposing man. Throwing a rock at him, he nearly had a hit, but the target ducked at the last minute.

Deciding my children were no threat to him, he turned his focus back on me.

Somehow, they had managed to free themselves. ‘Should I even be surprised? They’re my boys,’ I thought. Bundled in their little arms were the rocks from the flower beds. Although however proud of them I may have been in this moment, this was something far too dangerous for them to take part in. ‘They need to take cover.’

“Takeshi, Haru, run! Get out of here. This is too dangerous,” I spoke to my boys through gritted teeth. It was taking all my energy to fend off this man, but I couldn’t let my boys fall victim to him.

“Mother, we’re here to help you, don’t tell us to leave,” my brave, fierce warrior, Takeshi, chided me. He seemed to have taken it as an insult that I told him to run to safety. “Hey, you evil snake. TAKE THIS!” Throwing an insult at the man, he hurled a rock through the air, hitting this monster at the back of the head, hard.

Swiftly snapping his head around to my boy, he radiated immense anger. His piercing yellow gaze settled sharply on Takeshi.

‘He’s going to kill them,’ I panicked internally. He now viewed my sons as nuisances he needed to deal with, before he could finish me off.

“You boys leave now. Get out of here before it’s too late!” I said, adding an authoritative hint to my voice, warning them not to disobey me. Did my boys listen to me? ‘Of course they wouldn’t listen to me, it always takes a few tries.’

Haru chipped in his two cents as well, “You are no match for our mother, you big, ugly sack of logs.” Hah! These boys and their insults. “Since you so wrongly think you’re a match for her awesomeness and excellence, I’ll give you a little something to knock some sense into your tiny brain.” Taking the largest rock he’d got in hand, Haru chucked it as hard as his little body would let him. “TAKE THAT!” he shouted, after the rock hit its intended target right in the eye.

“Good shot, Haru.” Praising his little brother Takeshi, along with the former, was oblivious to the man that had their absolute, full attention. I was nothing compared to my boys in this ungodly man's eyes now.

He withdrew from me, turned to my boys, and took off. He sped towards them, and it looked like they stood no chance against him. ‘Shit! He is really going to get them now!’ If I didn’t say something now, the next time I hugged my boys would be at their funeral.

Sensing that my sons were in immediate danger, I shouted, “TAKESHI! HARU! Run!! Run as fast as you can, GO, get out of here! NOW!” My boys, hearing the urgency in my tone, finally noticed the man charging at them, ready to end their young lives.

Haru, frozen in fright, did not move on his own, and so Takeshi grabbed his little hand and sped off, with him in tow. But their little legs were no match for the beast chasing after them.

I needed to use my last resort, even at the cost of it leaving me defenseless, for at least my sons would live to see tomorrow. And so, I threw my blade straight at the man's back. At the very last possible second it went straight through him, making him stumble to his knees. “Agggghhh!!” he dropped his weapons, moaning in agony.

My boys were able to safely escape, finding shelter behind a nearby tree.

I was about to stride towards the man, hoping to finish this once and for all, but he did the unthinkable before I could take one step. Reaching behind his back he yanked out my blade, now stained with his blood. He turned towards me, setting that cold glare on me once again.

What seemed like an eternity lasted only a minute. The man was now bounding toward me at full speed, my own weapon was brandished above his head.

Preparing myself to fight a fight that I was clearly now the underdog in, I got ready. ‘Lord if I do not survive to see my boys to safety please give them your protection. They are kind, smart, and brave; do not bring them home to you so early. Please, do not let my beautiful girl shed too many tears over this. Let her be strong, kind, and beautiful until her last breath. Finally, please protect my husband. He is all our children will have left and they will need him. He has so much more love to give this world. Please, to anyone who will listen, please protect my family!’

As soon as I finished my prayers, my attacker reached me. Ducking and rolling out of the way, I was able to give my best roundabout kick right in his fresh wound. He faltered forward, but he was not subdued long enough for me to gain any kind of advantage.

Putting all of his weight into his shoulder, he knocked me to the ground. Now standing over me, he raised my blade once more and spit at me, “Now, time to end this.”

Part 4 Part 5

#love 365 find your story #love 365 #samurai love ballad party #slbp #slbp saizo #slbp yukimura #slbp fanfic #fanfic #family au #fluff #saizo fluff #badass chicken #badass wife #badass mom #adorable kids #sexy ninja #YOU ARE A QUEEN AND YOU DESERVE THE WORLD BUNNY

[split-n-splice]

Ah yes, the "hide secret boyfriend in the closet" chapter.

[Chapter Guide]

21. Welfare Check – 3

Through the slats, Drakken could see his accomplice peer up and down to check that he was well hidden in her cramped closet. Erring on the side of caution, he pushed his way further back to hide behind the rack of clothes, ducking beneath the shelf. Hiding from her family made him feel like a coward, but what choice was there? It was Shego’s idea anyway. He wasn’t hiding because he was afraid of them. It wasn’t like they were an ordinary family anyway – they were a bunch of lousy superheroes. It was healthy to be cautious of them.

He tried to freeze and breathe as discreetly as possible – but suddenly even his own heartbeat was roaring almost as loud as the jet engines winding down outside the apartment.

The jarring impatient ding-ding-ding-ding-dong of the doorbell was what finally woke the numbskull crashed on Shego’s floor by her bed, made clear by an incoherent grunt of confusion. Drakken couldn’t see him, but he hoped he was realizing how cold it must be without a shirt. He hoped he had pants on though, but not for sake of dog boy’s comfort.

Shego’s eyes darted to her groggy guest and back to the closet before her hands curled into fists, glittering with green embers, and she turned to take a walk of shame with her head low. It was dark and the slats barred his vision, so there wasn’t much he could do to keep a good view of her, though he saw her throw one last glare his way. He tried his best to hold still and pray he didn’t knock anything down lest he blow his cover.

The dumbfounded fellow bundled up in her spare blanket slurred something questioning, followed by the squeak of bedsprings as he flopped himself down in Shego’s bed. What’s-his-name was sure to be in for a big surprise. Drakken wished he could see dog boy’s face when Shego opened up to reveal a massive man blocking the doorway. It was an intimidating sight – even Drakken couldn’t help shying back a little.

The punk had ratted her out and had the gall to stick around. He may have escaped the stinkbomb, but there was no getting out of this one for him. If Shego wanted payback, she was sure to get it one way or another. By the grace of karma, dog boy was now caught red-handed in her bed by an overprotective big brother with a nose for sniffing out the seedy. Team Go was almost exclusive to the east coast, so surely all the Nevadan backstabber knew about the superfolk was the nationwide broadcast regarding the missing Shego and the generous reward offered for information on her whereabouts. By the hissed expletive, Drakken guessed dog boy had also underestimated their ability to show up at a moment’s notice, or at least the intimidation factor.

Before Drakken could grin and revel in the thought of fear struck in the young man’s heart, ear-piercing shrieks split the air.

“Trick or treat!” squealed a pair of little voices in unison, interrupting a tense standoff between Shego and her eldest brother. Two pint-sized children in red pajamas that matched Shego’s uniform sprang up in the doorway and grappled at her waist, and Shego stumbled as she stepped aside to reach into her purse hung beside the door.

“Yeah, yeah – here’s a trick,” she greeted, and the giddy twin kindergarteners leapt back in anticipation, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and bouncing on their toes. With a sleight of hand, she pulled coins out from behind the little boys’ ears, and while they were squealing something incomprehensibly delighted over the small change, she turned them around by the shoulders to push them back out the door. “Go buy yourselves treats now, will ya? Mrs. Landlady downstairs has a gumball machine outside her door. Go on, shoo, shoo – on the double.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, but they hugged her awkwardly again before racing off back into the dark, leaving Shego to the unhappy herculean brother looming before her.

Before either of the eldest two siblings could exchange more than frowns, they were interrupted yet again, this time by the purple one sidling in between them to give his two cents before the giant could open his mouth. “Yo!” piped the flamboyant ropy boy, leaning as heavily as he could against his broad brother. “We got the voicemail that you were—”

“Boy wonder filled me in earlier,” Shego interrupted curtly, jutting her chin up at her big brother, though Drakken noticed her glare was curiously set lower. She was avoiding looking directly at her siblings, he realized. “I didn’t get any damn sleep last night ‘cause of you jerks,” she griped. “Just can’t understand I want nothing to do with you, can you?”

“Hey,” whined the lavender boy in purple harlequin, Mego, with his hand pressed to his chest as if deeply wounded by her words. “It’s hard not to worry when you run off like that with some weirdo, and that means something coming from me. Where is he now anyway?” He shoved away from the stoic giant to lean in to peer past Shego, but she shoved him back into the man still standing mute outside under the porch light.

“How the hell should I know?” Shego snapped. “He was heading to Mexico, so I had him drop me off here.” Whether it was quick thinking or a planned cover – he’d have to ask her later – it was courteous of her to give them a false lead like that. It gave Drakken some reassurance she was on his team after all.

“Your sugar daddy dumped you already, huh?” snorted the contemptuous purple kid, and the warmth in Drakken’s blood froze over.

“Don’t make me hit you,” Shego groaned. The threat was halfhearted, a flameless fist raised in warning, though it still glittered weakly with green embers.

Taking offense himself, Drakken wished he had a front-row seat to such a showdown. “I’m not that old,” he mouthed indignantly to himself, though it wasn’t too far from the truth. Sure he treated his accomplice a fair bit better than his henchman – but she held a power that demanded respect and he had to stay in her good favor. Although he was growing rather fond of her company in particular. To say he wasn’t compelled to treat her well for the sake of keeping it would be a lie. It would be a bigger lie to say he didn’t selfishly want more than his fair share. But a sugar daddy he was not. He was still in his twenties and he didn’t have white hair, for goodness sake. Well, maybe a couple of grays, but he plucked those so they didn’t count. Anyway, he wasn’t paying her to be his friend. Or was he?

Mind reeling, Drakken almost didn’t catch the big blue bloke speak up before Shego and her twiggy brother could get into a scrap. “We just wanted to be sure you’re alright,” he said quietly, devoid of enthusiasm as he stepped forward. “You’ve had us all worried sick.” Somehow, the simple concern was enough to make Shego wince. Drakken wondered if the Hego fellow had a secret superpower other than superstrength. Something telepathic maybe?

“Not my problem,” Shego scoffed bitterly, trying to push them away from the door. “I’m doing fine. I don’t need a welfare check. I have to get ready for work now, so out. You’ll have to catch me later.”

The scrawny brother blinked. “You have a job?”

Shego ground out a sound of agitation but otherwise didn’t answer him. She slammed the door before they could push their way back in, quickly latching the chain and twisting the deadbolt with an audible click.

With Team Go out of sight, Drakken already felt himself beginning to relax. He hadn’t even realized how tense he’d been. But he couldn’t come out yet, not with her family just outside and her guest still in the room.

Standing on tiptoe to watch through the peephole, Shego ignored the dirtbag in boxer shorts ambling around behind her searching for his belongings and dressing as he questioned her on the clown freaks and the whereabouts of his pet. When the irritated young man tried grabbing her roughly by the shoulder to turn her around, he was abruptly shoved out the door into the early morning with such force he nearly toppled over the railing. His tattered backpack and dog leash were tossed out after him. The traitor swore and pounded on the door, but it was already locked once again.

After checking the kitchen window overlooking the breezeway was perfectly covered by the blinds, Shego returned to the closet. She pushed hangers aside to grab Drakken by the sleeve, yanking him out of hiding and out of her way. “Wait until everyone’s gone before you leave. And lock the door behind you,” she instructed quietly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Drakken whispered back. Truth be told, he wasn’t eager to go anywhere, hovering close at her side as she shifted through her belongings. He wasn’t convinced it was safe to be out of hiding just yet, even within her apartment – not with a bunch of superheroes outside.

Drakken was sure he caught a note of anxiety in her soft chuckle then, and he tore his eyes from the front door and back to her, fixing a frown on her. She patted his arm and quipped, “You can go back to hiding in the closet if you want. I won’t judge.”

“Yes, you would,” he scoffed.

“Daredevil, huh?” she mocked, and her smirk fell as she cast a suspicious glance to the door as well. “Whatever. Just – keep the lights off, or they might see you.”

He grunted in agreement but hovered by the coat closet as his accomplice made her rounds, closing windows and double-checking blinds and the locks on her door. She blew out a candle she’d missed, making certain the apartment was appropriately dark for this hour of the morning. She must have been as uneasy as him, having her family waiting for her outside. She had to face them eventually and risk them toting her off, but she was at considerably less risk than himself. If he left the apartment now, they’d be on him like flies on—

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she declared quietly in passing. “You behave yourself.”

“Certainly,” he mumbled.

No sooner had the bathroom door shut and the water cranked on full blast was Drakken was all but glued to the front door. While Shego – Shilo – got a start on the day, he anxiously stationed himself there as if on guard duty.

From the peephole, he could see the brand new hoverjet parked diagonally on the dinky lawn below. There was a notable lack of green included in the streaks and bolts of color decorating the craft. Team Go must have officially excluded her from the team, Drakken surmised.

The siblings of his accomplice gave the intimidated dog boy a hard time. What’s-his-name eventually brushed the heroes off and went to search for his dog, but not before accepting the monetary reward the big blue fellow grudgingly counted out for him.

Some friend that dog boy must be, to turn Shego in for a bit of cash in his pocket. Although Drakken couldn’t say he wouldn’t do the same if he were in dog boy’s duct-taped shoes, down on his luck with nothing but a sack and the clothes on his back. It was still shallow. He still detested the punk.

Drakken wondered how his accomplice had ever gotten caught up with the likes of dog boy. Maybe she still had a hero’s heart and took pity on the less fortunate. Such would be a quality his mother might like – but how much good would that do him? She was probably just using the lowlife to get her fix. Drakken had his connections – he could get Shego her fix if she’d just ask. It wasn’t a priority, but he’d have to broach the subject sometime.

Day broke while Shego took a lengthy shower, but her family waited patiently outside. Well, almost patiently. The two hyper little ones clambered around on the wings of the jet. A handful of times, it seemed the lavender one had to talk the blue one out of stomping back up to the apartment. Some middle-aged man appeared to have a word with the herculean leader of the team, who pointed up toward the apartment in an accusatory manner. The average Joe pulled the children down from the jet and lead them off then, leaving the two older brothers behind.

It wasn’t much longer before a hand landing on Drakken’s shoulder gave him a start.

He jumped and gave the unhappy runaway a once-over. He hadn’t even noticed the shower shut off, let alone heard her blow dry her hair. Plain denim and white blouse, she was dressed and ready to go, although she didn’t look particularly psyched out. Drakken wondered if it had less to do with drudging through another day as a barista and more to do with the unwelcomed patrons she’d surely be serving soon.

Shilo yawned, and almost rubbed her eyes but stopped herself before she could smudge her mascara.

Maybe she was just tired.

She cursed miserably under her breath and nudged Drakken aside so she could take a peek through the peephole herself. Then she rocked on her heels and leaned back against the door, sighing wretchedly. “I don’t wanna go out there,” she grumbled. “I really don’t wanna go out there.” She leaned a bit to look past him, Drakken following her stare to the digital clock on her dresser reading a quarter past six.

“You could call in sick,” he suggested. “Maybe they’ll get tired of waiting and leave.”

“Unlikely. It’s a stakeout.”

Drakken grunted his displeasure, knowing she was right, and turned his frown back to her as she grabbed something from the coat rack by the door. As his accomplice pulled on the black sweater and tugged her hair free, smoothing the collar of her blouse over the crewneck, he raised his brow and swallowed futilely against something bubbling up. He tore his eyes from the bat brooch pinned to the borrowed sweater before he could be caught staring.

Miss Gough shouldered her purse and tucked a second-hand skateboard under an arm before nudging Drakken again to move him away from the door. She peeked out once more, sighed wearily, and gave him one last look. “Wish me luck,” she said meekly.

“Only if you wish me luck first,” grumbled Drakken in halfhearted retort. Goodness knew he’d need it with her family out there. He didn’t anticipate her catching his hand, and resisted the reflex to jerk it away as she lifted it, giving his knuckles a blow for luck as if he held dice. The gesture was simultaneously sweet and torturous. He swallowed against the something bubbling up in his chest again and he tried to smile, whispering, “Good luck,” to his accomplice as she slipped out the door.

Through the peephole, he watched her trot away, subjecting herself to the heroes that converged on her. She hopped on her probably-stolen skateboard and kicked off to stay ahead of them, clearly trying to ignore the two young men hurrying after her like her shadow. It was hard to tell, but he was sure she almost glanced back at the apartment.

There were still the two youngest team members to worry about of course, and whoever had taken them. Still, Drakken gave it a good minute, waiting until the senior members of the superhero team were well out of sight before making his escape. He may have narrowly avoided being caught, but he was far from at ease.

He barely made it to the car before spotting the two little kids skipping down the sidewalk, jumping over cracks. One boy paused when he noticed Drakken ducking into the wagon, and he shoved the other, who in turn tugged on the coat of the mustachioed man trudging along beside them. But the man was too busy glaring up at the apartment to see Drakken pulling away.

The stranger must be their father, he realized, risking a glance back as he idled at the stop sign at the corner. The man with the twins was an ordinary fellow of average build and a bit of a beer gut. It was hard to believe he might be the parent of five colorful superhumans when he was so drab himself.

Drakken was out of there before the dismal father could be convinced to look back at the weird blue guy he was sure the children were pestering him about.

If only facing the father of the young lady he’d spirited away was the worst of it. Assuming he had no superpowers, he could probably take that guy in old-fashioned fisticuffs if a fight broke out. It was the big one Drakken worried about. That was the one that could knock his lights out for good and with ease.

And yet, despite that worry, he resisted the urge to floor it back to the lair for a change of wheels. He was riding on impulse. The odds her family had shown up in full force for nothing more than a little reunion seemed unlikely – and right now, she was alone with the worst of them.

What if they convinced her to go back? Was she homesick at all? Would they use that against her? How low were a group of heroes willing to stoop? She was alone and outnumbered, and they had a jet and could be halfway back to Go City by the time he made it back to her.

Maybe he did floor it back to the lair, and maybe he wished the damn stolen station wagon could go faster.

There had to be something to Shego’s lucky gesture because it had to be luck that Lux was there to get the gate. Drakken ordered the surrender of his keys, commandeering the senior henchman’s red Beetle, and was peeling out moments later. The punch buggy was unimpressive but perfect for the job. It was unfamiliar to Shego’s traitorous playmate and far less conspicuous than the stereotypical white van of a kidnapper – not that kidnapping was on the agenda. That the Beetle’s windows were tinted was a bonus.

Back across town lickety-split, Drakken made it in time to spot the trio from a block away as they arrived at Buckley’s Brew. He parked not far up the street while their backs were to him.

It was a relief to see the big blue gorilla hadn’t simply thrown the former hero over his shoulder yet to tote her off, but Drakken watched with a glower as Shilo Gough argued with her family just outside the shop. She didn’t have the skateboard anymore, he noticed. If he had to guess, one of the young men had gotten rid of it for her, perhaps to slow her down so they could talk. If talking was what they wanted, talking was what they got, because she was giving them an earful, though they didn’t seem terribly put off by it.

Shilo was in the middle of giving them a piece of her mind and jabbing a finger at the gorilla’s chest when Joanne Buckley herself stepped out of the shop. Built like a tank, the baker rivaled Team Go’s leader in size. The two active heroes were in uniform. There was no way Buckley didn’t recognize them as she butted in between the boys and her tiny superpowered employee, ready to go toe to toe with the herculean hero.

Drakken sank down behind the wheel, chuckling under his breath as he anticipated a brawl to break out. He wished he had popcorn on hand.

He was only a little disappointed things remained civil.

With Buckley barring the door like a bouncer, Shego ducked inside, escaping the verbal dispute before it could escalate to physical. The strapping young man and spindly boy exchanged looks, and it would seem they had little choice but to surrender and let their sister go. The burly baker glared at their backs as they retreated. If looks could kill, the young heroes would have been lying face-down on the sidewalk.

Disappointment aside, Drakken relaxed and let his grip on the wheel loosen, though he was still wary as they came trudging his way. He was pleasantly reminded how convenient tinted windows were as he watched the superheroes, both utterly oblivious that the man responsible for whisking away their dear sister was right under their noses. He smirked smugly to himself, undeniably getting a small thrill out of flirting with danger. Should the purple one recognize him, he was done for.

Through the cracked window on the passenger side, he just barely overheard the lavender teen utter, “I don’t like it either, man, but maybe we should leave her alone? She’s doing better than any of us thought.”

“This can’t last though,” said the giant sulking brother in exasperation. “She needs to come home.”

Fat chance, Drakken thought to himself, his brow knitting as he watched them from the corner of his eye. He’d like to avoid a confrontation if possible and she’d made it clear she didn’t want her family hurt, but he might just break his promise and fight to keep her if she needed the backup.

“And I’m sure she will,” the small one consoled, slapping the blue gorilla on the back as they passed perilously close to the Beetle. “Eventually. Once she sees things can be worse, she’ll be back.”

“I hope so,” said the apathetic giant in defeat, and Drakken couldn’t make out the rest of their conversation.

#The Company You Keep fic #drakgo

[headoverjojo]

I feel that the Drug Team is similar to the Squadra. They did the dirty work and served their leader until the high command changed their perspective and decided they were scum.

Hello! Ok so, I fear I’ll go a bit out of tangent here ‘cause I think there’s the possibility of some analysis and comparison so please forgive me if this answer comes out a bit too long

So, so… I’d start with the Squadra. As we all know, the Squadra members joined when Passione was at its apex, the most powerful organization in all Italy and so on. Then shit happened and they went rogue, seen as traitors in their own organization. Diavolo was known for his lack of mercy, when someone was nosy on his business and the Squadra felt it on its skin, when Sorbetto and Gelato were killed. Now… Diavolo has always been presented as cautious, mysterious, secretive and mostly merciless towards his enemies. So his behaviour towards the Squadra isn’t out of character: you expect this from a tyrant. He imposes himself through fear and death. He sent to the Squadra a strong message: if you betray me, you’ll meet the same fate. And the Squadra lowered their head. Waiting and nursing an immense hate towards their Boss, to the point that, at the first occasion, they betrayed him with no qualms, ‘cause now they had nothing to lose, just to gain. What could they lose? They were already in the lowest step of Passione hierarchy. What could they gain? A territory, a right respect and a better position -other than personal revenge for their fallen teammates-. So, ‘till now all ok. A thing that always bugged me, however, was how the Squadra worked on their revenge. It’s not a new thing in the fandom, of course a lot of people before me have already thought and said what I’m going to say now, but still: their plan was absurdly dumb. And this was the ultimate proof that they, even with all the potential they had, have been just used as “weekly enemies” to bring some troubles to the Bucci gang and nothing more. ‘Cause do you think that a group of élite assassins would act like this? I don’t think so. Why attack the gang one by one, the dumbest thing on this cursed planet, when they could just follow them to the meeting place with the Boss and then attack? The Boss would have been here, at arm reach, and they would have been all together. They would have won. We have seen that Diavolo can’t fight too many stand users all together, even with his King Crimson. And, if the gang would have undestood in time that the Boss wanted to kill Trish and not protect her, maybe they could even have fought at the Squadra’s side. But, of course, this is just an alternative road the story could have taken. It took the road we all know and it’s fine like that.

Now, with the Squadra Narcotici… the story is similar but not exactly the same. First of all, they’re not a “weekly enemy” but the main enemy of PHF, with Massimo who is the “Diavolo” of the story. They’re not traitors, but they, in particular Massimo, were the main source of money of Passione, since they handled the drug routes. They don’t have to avenge anyone, but they have to save their life.

In what they are similar to the Squadra? They’re, obviously, a team, and they share a strong bond. They are one of the special units of the organization, as the Squadra Esecuzioni was before its fall. They found in the Boss, even if in a different way if compared to the Squadra, an enemy.

What is the thing that bugs me, now? Giorno’s behaviour. Giorno has always been presented as a determined, strong willed BUT merciful young man. Giorno seeks the truth, something that Diavolo will never find. Giorno puts his face on display, he doesn’t hide in the shadows as Diavolo did. Giorno doesn’t want to bring on Diavolo’s reign of terror, but he wants to bring a revolution in the organization, mostly by stopping the drug trade. And stopping the drug trade would mean put Massimo and his team at the door and say bye bye.

But. Even if Massimo’s stand was what allowed the Squadra Narcotici to be so flawless in the drug trade, a person isn’t just their stand. Couldn’t Giorno try to mediate with them? To keep them in the organization, maybe under another team? Massimo doesn’t seem to have an utter and blind loyalty towards Diavolo -the only one we’ve seen to have this kind of loyalty is Doppio, but we all know why-; all in all, you can’t truly develop a strong bond with someone who’s always hidden in the shadows. Massimo’s loyalty and even affection is stored in his team. And when Giorno decides to get rid of him but, mostly, of his team, here Massimo’s war starts. In my opinion, if Giorno would have tried to start a dialogue with the Squadra Narcotici, they could have found a solution. But we’ll never know it, I guess. Maybe the mess is due to Giorno’s inexperience: he wasn’t Don since long, Passione was still in full turmoil for the new Don and maybe he felt the need to impose his role as Boss with a strong act. But, doing so, he did nothing more and nothing less than a Diavolo-ish act: he sent someone to kill the opponents, the “traitors”, without a trial and without a dialogue. He, who wanted to eradicate Diavolo’s influence from the organization, acted right like him. And not just that: he sent Fugo, one of his friends, a broken man who just came to know that almost all his family was dead, to a potential suicide mission to what? To make amend of some sins? To be worthy again in his Don’s eyes? Giorno here shows a manipulative side really worth of his father Dio’s one. I don’t think this is how Giorno as Don should end up. I don’t think that, after all what he passed, Giorno could end up like this. 

So, to conclude, yes, the Squadra Esecuzioni and the Squadra Narcotici are similar, as both had no chance to have even a glimpse of mercy and were crushed by their Boss’ even cruel will. But, if in some ways this is “justifiable” in Diavolo’s case, this is not in Giorno’s case, at least in my opinion and by how I see Giorno’s character. As much as I like PHF for more contents and more interesting characters, I don’t like how Giorno is portraied here: this is not the protagonist I rooted for and I learned to appreciate during the manga and then the anime.

These are my two cents! Again, sorry for the mostly incoherent rambles and the length of this post!

#answer #anon #jjva #vento aureo #purple haze feedback #la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra narcotici #tricia rambles #tricia's opinion

[doctor-ciel]

I feel like we don't talk about what it's like to be poor and in fandom. In general, we are in fandom because we are poor: by and large, you can participate in fandom without paying a cent, and that's thanks to modern technology. But even then, there's some problems. For example, I have played very few of the games I am a fan of. My two favorite video games, OneShot and Undertale, I've never played them. The most I can do is watch playthroughs on youtube and completely absorb the wiki. Watching my favorite shows is a problem, too. Anime that I like, like MP100 or HXH, are hard for me watch since I don't want to risk pirating(I could get a VPN, but those cost money), and I generally prefer dub, which is sometimes not something accessible at all for free, and anything I watch is going to have the shitload of ads crunchyroll offers. I also like RWBY, which is a good example of another issue with money and watching shows. Volume 7 is coming out in just a couple weeks, but I'm actually dreading it because unless I pay money, I'll be a week behind everyone. And guess what I can't do.

Buying merch is a problem, too, seeing as it's rarely something I can do. Most of what I have is merch for things so popular you can get them for cheap because they're everywhere, like Harry Potter or Doctor Who or Star Wars. And I love those series, but I would also like RWBY and Undertale and Dark Crystal merch. We also can't make commissions, buy zines, or buy from people's etsy/redbubble/whatever. And don't get me started on books. Poor musical fans also have it rough, Broadway and theater in general is infamous for being elitist, and you can't always even count on your favorite bootleg being there the next day.

I love fandom. It has many, many faults and leaves me with a headache at the end of the day, but there's something awesome about being able to write/read literary analysis without the formal-ness and it's packaged as a meta, and being able to, in some way or another, enjoy something without paying a cent. But there's still a lot of stuff that makes being a poor fan difficult, either by having to put up with ads or watching a playthrough instead of playing it yourself, or by being excluded because the show is on a streaming site you're not subscribed to, you're forced to be a week behind everyone, or you can't spend money in the fandom like everyone else can. I'm trying to think of a way to wrap this up nicely with a bow, but this is already an incoherent mess, so TL;DR being poor really impacts how you interact with fandom, which is supposedly the poor person's recreational haven, because money is needed for so many things it's ridiculous.

#fandom

[winryofresembool]

Love Can Melt the Ice, ch 21

Summary: the party goes on.

A/N: sorry guys, I’m too tired to think of anything to say. Just that I hope you guys enjoy, and note, that there’s a little bit of steaminess (not quite M-rated tho imo) towards the end of this chapter so keep that in mind when readng this. Reviews are loved!!! And thanks to every single person who has commented the previous chapters, you guys rule ♥

Previous chapters:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5.5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 pt 1, pt 2, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

Next chapter: coming

Companion pieces (note: these are all post Olympics happenings so reading the main fic first is recommended): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Words: 3200+

Genre: cotton candy mostly

“There she finally comes!” Paninya exclaimed when she saw Winry approaching her figure skating team in the otherwise quiet restaurant. “What took you so long? Oh!” She finally noticed Ed hopping towards them behind Winry, and a giant grin spread on her lips. “I wasn’t expecting you to have company!”

“Smirk what you want, Pan. I don’t care anymore. As a matter of fact, we have some news for you…” Winry fumbled with her hair nervously, as she was trying to figure out how to tell Paninya about the changed relationship status.

“Are you pregnant too?” Paninya asked her, eyeing Ed suspiciously. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone after the birthday party…”

“What, NO!” Winry panicked, worried how Ed would react to such implications. Even though Pan’s comment was just a joke, Ed had barely started to open up to her… Winry didn’t even want to think how he would feel about having kids. “We haven’t even… I mean, that’s a 0 per cent possibility… And don’t you think it’s a bit too early for that kind of announcements anyway?”

“I just wanted to see your reaction,” Paninya laughed. “Don’t mind me, I was just messing with you.”

“Oh, OK. So, the news is that… we…” She linked her arm with Ed’s. “… Have decided to become… exclusive?”

“And that’s what you were so nervous to announce?” Paninya looked annoyed. “I would have expected you to at least have gotten married secretly based on your expressions.” Her frown changed into a smile soon. “But that’s awesome! I knew it would happen sooner rather than later! In fact, Rosé, I think I won our bet.” She winked at her girlfriend smugly.

“Bet, what bet? Rosé, don’t tell me Pan made you make a bet on my relationship progression.” Any of Winry’s nervousness flew away as (faked) anger took over. “I can expect that from you…” Winry glared at Paninya, “… But Rosé, you have always been the nice one.”

“I’m sorry, she made me!”

“Don’t worry. I just had to make you taste your own medicine,” Winry laughed. “Anyway, thanks for coming! It’s good to see you all here. I guess… let’s get this party started!

 …

 “Hey Winry, why is your boyfriend moping at your party?” Paninya asked as Winry joined her at the bar to get a drink. She wasn’t wrong, he was scowling at his phone in an empty corner of the restaurant and mumbling something incoherent to himself.

“He just remembered that his team is playing right now.” Winry sighed. “They are probably angry at him for not showing up, but more importantly, the game is almost over now, and they are losing by several goals so… it’s not looking too good.”

“You gotta give him something else to think about.” Paninya winked and made kissy lips to give Winry a hint.

“I’m not gonna make out with him in front of all these people!” Winry growled. “Public display of affection isn’t our thing.”

“Whatever. Just do whatever you do to wrap him around your arm. Take him to dance or something.”

“He can’t dance! He has a broken leg in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Just sway in the same spot or something.” Paninya suggested.

“I’ll just go talk to him,” Winry decided when she saw he wasn’t far from throwing his phone out of the window.

…

“Damnit!” Ed cursed loudly when Winry arrived next to him. She didn’t even bother asking what had happened in the game; it was unnecessary.

“I’m sorry, Ed. I’m not gonna say ‘better luck next time’ because that won’t help anything, but maybe you’d like to do something to take your thoughts away from that game. It’s my party, after all.”

“What do you have in mind?” Ed eyed her suspiciously. “I’m not gonna sing karaoke if that’s what you want to do. I’m not drunk enough.”

Winry put her arm around his shoulder and said: “No, you don’t have to sing, but I do want to dance. And I want to dance with you.”

“You have gone nuts, woman. How do you think I’m gonna dance with this leg?” he pointed at his cast.

“Just follow me. Or do you want me to call Al to dance with me instead?” Winry asked slyly. “Or, I suppose, there are other options in this restaurant too…”

“Let’s just go then!” Ed said all too fast and started hopping towards the dance floor.

When the couple found their spot, a few other dancers were eyeing Ed’s crutches suspiciously, but he decided to ignore it. “So… how are we gonna do this?”

“I think… if you can stand with just one crutch, you could use your hand to twirl me, and I’ll do the rest,” Winry suggested.

“Sounds doable,” Ed noted and left his right crutch against the wall. Winry took his metal hand (that was covered with the usual white glove) into hers and started doing her dance moves. The song was fast, so she was able to show her jiving skills well.

“I knew you could skate but I didn’t know you can dance too!” Ed commented at some point.

“A lot of figure skaters take also dancing classes because it certainly helps with the balance and everything.” Winry reminded him.

“Right. That makes sense,” Ed admitted.

The longer the song continued, the more he lightened up too, finishing the dance by pulling Winry close to him and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“You were right, it was kinda fun! Maybe one day we can dance for real.”

“Is that a promise?” Winry asked. “Because if it is, I will remember it, I swear.”

“Maybe it is.” Ed grinned and turned to pick up his crutch.

…

A few hours later, Winry was looking for Ed who had disappeared while she had gone to the restroom, and finally found him on the balcony.

“There you are! I was a bit worried you might have left,” Winry said.

“Oh. I just needed a little break to hear my thoughts. It’s been quite a day, don’t you think?” Ed asked.

“It has… As amazing it has been, I am quite eager to get into my own bed soon.” Ed gave Winry a puppy dog expression. “We’ll see if someone gets to join me. Maybe if you are extra nice to me. Anyway, Gracia already left, Garfiel is hitting on someone, and Rosé and Paninya’s dancing is looking like they don’t really need our company… so I’d say we’re free to go.”

“Sounds good to me. By the way, Al sends his congrats,” Ed remembered. “He’s with Mei now but said he’d catch up with us tomorrow.”

“Oh! How is it going between those two?”

“The last time I saw them together, they were chatting pretty eagerly about who knows what, so I’d say it’s going pretty well. Too bad she lives in Xing, though. What if they get together, and he decides to move there?”

“I think you are getting a bit ahead of yourself again,” Winry noted. “They just met. But what about us? It’s like you said, we live pretty far from each other and travel a lot… Should we try to come up with a schedule for our meetings?”

“Until my leg is healed, you don’t have to worry about me traveling…” Ed sighed. “I will have plenty of free time. I think I might still spend a little while in Resembool because I’m not super eager to do household work with this leg.”

“I’ll visit you there when I have my next free weekend! Hey… does this situation remind you of your party?” Winry realized.

“I guess it does,” Ed agreed. “A lot has happened after that, though… Even though it has only been a few days.”

“Sometimes… things… happen fast. You don’t regret it, do you?” Winry asked, slight hint of worry in her voice.

“No.” Ed shook his head. “I thought this was going to be difficult, but now that it’s actually happening… I realized it’s really quite simple. I want to spend more time with you. I just… needed to deal with some things first.”

“I understand. And hey, I’ll be here the whole time if you still need help with that,” Winry promised, and it was her turn to kiss Ed on the cheek. “Hey, what’s that?”

Ed was holding a small box in his hand and Winry casted a curious look at it. If it had been anyone else giving her that box, she might have been more nervous about what was in it, but she knew Ed wouldn’t ask her so soon… Right?

“Um… this is just a championship gift for you…” Ed said, and Winry immediately relaxed. “I was going to give it to you no matter what result, but it turned out going pretty well, don’t you think?”

“Heh, I guess so.” Winry unwrapped the paper around the box carefully and admired its black surface for a moment before opening it. “Ed, these are so pretty!”

What she saw in the box were earrings, with tiny golden skates hanging from them. She took them in her hand to get a better look at them.

“I just… well, I asked Riza if she knew what would make you happy, and she said you like earrings. So. I went to the shop where they sell these and… thought the skates were pretty fitting… in many ways… since you know, skating was what united us in the first place… and… gold to match your medal…”

“Awww. That is so sweet.” She quickly wiped the corners of her eyes dry and turned Ed’s head to face her. “Seriously, I love them. Thank you.” Then she leaned in to press a light kiss on his mouth. They let the kiss linger for a few moments before Winry pulled away and run her hand on Ed’s automail arm briefly.

“Hey, guess what… I kinda have a gift for you too. It’s in my room, though, so should we take a cab and leave?”

“It’s like you said, I don’t think anyone would miss us… so sure!” Ed gave Winry his familiar shit eating grin, taking his crutches from the bench next to him and jumping up rather eagerly.

…

The couple waved their goodbyes to those of their friends who were still left at the club and took the first cab to the hotel (this time they were farther from the hotel than during Ed’s birthday so Winry didn’t want to make Ed walk all that way). For some reason, Ed hesitated a bit before stepping inside Winry’s room, though.

“What’s wrong?” Winry folded her arms over her chest and stared at Ed questioningly.

“It’s just… We are a… couple… now… so I hope you’re not expecting…”

“Expecting what?” Winry tilted her head slightly as she tried to understand what Ed was saying. “Oh!” she finally realized, her face turning red. “Nonono, I wasn’t thinking about that… Not that I wouldn’t like… eventually… but we can take our time… No, there’s something I want to show you…”

With Winry’s rambling, the nervousness that had taken over Ed’s body finally left him, and he started laughing so hard he doubled over.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, slightly hurt because she didn’t understand what was in Ed’s mind in that moment. Was he laughing at her?

“It’s just…” he guffawed, “… The tables have turned… Remember what happened the last time we spent a night together? You thought I was expecting us to…”

“Oh!” Winry finally understood. “Well, I wasn’t expecting anything, so you can stop laughing and come here.” Her voice had a bit of sharpness in it as she continued: “I have some drawings I want to show you.”

“Sorry.” Ed finally calmed down. “Show them.”

He hopped towards the table on which Winry had spread her papers and squinted as he was trying figure out what was in her drawings. “Wait a second… Is this an automail arm?”

“I noticed your arm was creaking a bit, so I designed this… What do you think? We would of course need to measure your arm before I can draw the final version, but… I’d love to do it if you let me?”

“Have you built automails before?” Ed asked, even though he believed he knew the answer. She had drawn that picture complete from the scratch, after all.

“I have, plenty! Although…” she blushed a bit as she continued: “this would be the first one that would be in use…”

“Well, it looks amazing, so… why the hell not? Truth to be told, I don’t really like my current mechanic so it would be a win-win situation in many ways.”

“It’s settled, then!” Winry clapped her hands excitedly. “You, me and an automail date once this season is over and I have more time to focus on mechanics. Although… I would like to get some measures sooner because that way I’ll have more time to prepare for it.” She pulled out the tape measure from her bag and looked at him expectantly. “Would you mind?”

“Of-of course not…” Ed said, although a bit hesitantly because Winry seemed to have turned her geek mode on. “What do you need me to do?”

“Uhh… You would probably need to take your shirt off because I need to be able to see where the shoulder piece starts and stuff…” She was blushing again. Ed threw his coat and suit on a nearby chair and sat down on the bed, unbuttoning his dress shirt slowly. He turned to look at Winry as he felt her gaze on him.

“Enjoying the view?” Ed cocked his eyebrow when their eyes met.

“You are suddenly awfully smug for someone who just freaked out about coming into my room.” Winry retorted, although her cheeks were still burning.

“I just like to make you as flustered as you make me…”

An awkward silence fell between them, but finally Ed added: “OK, here’s the thing: I do want to… do it with you… eventually, like you said… but with this cast… there’s a lot I won’t be able to do, and… I think you deserve better than that… so… I’d rather wait… until I feel 100 per cent fine…”

“I didn’t think you’d be worried about that… I’m sorry. That’s… that’s so nicely said, and I… shouldn’t have mocked you earlier.”

“It’s OK.” Ed shrugged. “So, should we measure this thing?”

“Of course!” Winry turned back into her usual mechanics loving self. “First I’m going to check the full length, and then…”

“You do realize that sounds a whole lot dirtier than it actually is?” Ed snorted, gaining a dirty look from Winry. “What? I’m just speaking the truth.”

“How about you just shut up for a moment and let me work.” Winry rolled her eyes and tried to focus on her tape measure, which was very hard, though, because she had her bare-chested boyfriend (she was still excited about being able to use that word) in front of her. And he wasn’t a bad sight at all. As expected, his upper body was built, his abs could have worked as a washboard and his only arm had probably been used to lift heavy weights a lot during Ed’s free time. Winry’s fingers traced the scar under the automail port, checking the skin for possible issues, and that made Ed inhale sharply.

“Sorry. Did that hurt?” Winry asked worriedly.

“No… It… felt good.” Ed stammered, trying to keep himself in line. ‘Hydrogen, helium, litium…’

“OK…” Winry said and bent down to write down some measures she had already gotten, her dress not leaving much for Ed’s imagination. He nearly bolted from the bed.

“Done.” She finally stopped her ‘torture’ and put the tape measure and the paper away. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding her breath while working. “Is something wrong?” she asked when she realized Ed was mumbling something incoherent and avoiding eye contact with her. “Ed, I’m your girlfriend. You can tell me.”

“Let’s just say that… I have never wished more that I didn’t have my leg broken,” he said quietly. Winry sat down on his lap and put one of her hands on his cheek, making him look at her.

“It’s OK. We can wait.” She kissed him tenderly, getting a response from him soon. Her fingers played on his bare skin while his metal arm went to cup her ass, the other one massaging her back. Soon Winry realized he wouldn’t open the zipper of her dress unless she gave him a permission, so she pulled away from the kiss and told him: “I’ve seen you shirtless, so it’s only fair you see me that way too… Equivalent exchange…”

“Have I ever told you you are freaking amazing?” Ed breathed before his hand went to unzip the dress while his lips worked on her neck.

“I think you might have mentioned that once or twice but it never hurts to hear it again.” Winry grinned and stood up to shake the dress off once Ed has unzipped it. “What? Have you never seen a half naked woman before?” she teased when Ed gaped at her like she was some kind of miracle.

“I-I have but never anyone who looks as… wow…” His eyes took all of her in, from the thin yet strong thighs to the skin colored strapless bra, before focusing on her face again. Even though she must have been dead tired already, and her make-up was slightly smudged, in Ed’s opinion she looked incredible.

“Thank you,” Winry gently pushed Ed to laying position and settled on his lap, minding his injured leg. “Wanna help me with this?” she turned her back to him, so Ed could unhook her bra.

“Sure, but… I’m gonna explode if we continue much further. And I just said… this is not how I want to do this.”

“I didn’t mean we have to do anything, silly,” she tried to comfort him. “I just want to get rid of this thing because trust me, it’s pretty uncomfortable to sleep with.”

“Oh. OK. I got it.”

After getting her bra unhooked and throwing it away, Winry got up again and made a bit of a show of stretching her arms in front of Ed (giving Ed a very good shot of some of her best features) before pulling her pajama top on her. Ed didn’t know how to react, causing him to just stare at her dumbfounded with his mouth open.

“What was that for?” he asked, sounding almost frustrated.

“Just something for you to look forward to while we are away from each other, I guess.” She winked.

“You dumb, I would… I would be looking forward to our next meeting either way.” Ed folded his arms, sounding almost offended that Winry thought there was any other possibility. “I mean, you look great and all, but I care about your personality more.”

“That means a lot to me, Ed. I… uh, never mind.” She laid down next to him and snuggled her head against his bare chest. “This has been… one of the best days of my life. And a lot of it is thanks to you. I just wanted you to know that.”

“You… you deserve it.” He kissed her on the forehead before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

#edwin #edxwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #fullmetal alchemist #my fics #ice skating au #lcmti

[carpediemingdork]

Do you have some headcanons of your auntie au? Because I really liked your ideia of it and would like to see more of it (sorry if I’m bothering you)

Sweet anon, you’re not bothering me at all! Honestly I wish I had more time to develop this AU and tell you all about it cause it’s really intriguing me, but I guess I’ll just make do with the next little bit.

Anyway: (oh and I guess I’ve never really done a list of headcanons so er, brace yourself for incoherent rambling?) Warning, it’s long.

1. Magica was never good with children. Even as a duckling, she much preferred arguing with adults to playing with the other kids. (And the other kids were perfectly fine with that arrangement, as it kept her gibberish made-up spells, dusty books, and freaky eyes far, far away.) 

2. Poe? He’d be standing there, looking all mysterious and cranky, see a baby or a pet across the room, and bam- there he is. With the most contagious grin and gentle playing ever.

3. Agatha was more about the mysteries. Poe was most about the monsters. They have some affiliations with TnT but it’s very hush hush

4. ...well, that last post sorta explains part of that headcanon...

5. The week Magica had to babysit Lena: It took about two days for Magica to let Lena hold her hand. It took four days to learn how to make funny faces and sounds so that the baby would start smiling. It took seven days to fill up her phone storage with pictures of Lena. It took two months and every scrying spell in existence to realize that her brother and his wife weren’t coming back.

6. As a toddler, Lena’s favorite thing seemed to be finding wands and snapping them in two.

7. When Lena was six, she asked Auntie why some of her hair feathers were purple. “Oh, you mean this?” said Magica, pulling Lena onto her lap. “I transform it to look that way. Stunning, isn’t it?”

“Can I have paint hair too!?” asks Lena, holding a fistful of against her own head for comparison. 

The result of the hair spell was a swirl of pale pink on white - “Lena darling, you look breathtaking!” - that Lena has kept ever since. 

8. “Aim for the eyes,” whispers Magica, casually handing Lena a foof bomb. C’mon, those bullies were asking for it.

9. Sometimes, people refer to Lena as Magica’s shadow, since they’re practically inseparable.

10. It’s unsettling sometimes how much Lena reminds her of Poe. The same steady eyes, same incredibly irritating (and endearing) snark.

11. She’s nine when Magica learns about the number one dime and starts trying to go after it. That’s when things start to change between her and Lena.

12. Rarely sleeping. Constantly muttering. Exploring new and darker magics. And have her feathers always looked that...green?

13. “You’re never gonna get that dime! You’ve tried everything!”

“I’m Magica de Spell, I can do anything. Now get out of my way, Lena.”

“But just, just stop! You’ve been at this for years now, and--”

“NOTHING MATTERS MORE THAN THE DIME, DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

She shoves Lena aside.

“...not even me?”

Magica’s step falters. Then she practically sprints away because that question implies a level of commitment and emotion that she is not ready to own up to, no matter how many tears she’s dried or cuts she’s patched up.

13. Things get even more complicated when Lena meets Webby and the triplets, and refuses to betray them for the sake of a measly ten cents. But anyway, it’s not until that funny little raven shows up, pecking at the windows and watching them more than a normal bird should that they realize something’s off.