#$5000 a month to buy my silence

[witcher-not-quitter]

#Witcher #Lambert #Eskel #Mel post what pleases her #$5000 a month to buy my silence

[lauraneedstochill]

Find my body covered in confetti

pairing: modern!Aegon Targaryen and F!Reader summary: Aegon is a regular at your bar but he doesn’t come only for the drinks. warnings: a bit of angst, a pinch of violence, brief mentions of blood but it does have a happy ending (he deserves one) words: ~5000 author’s note: my first time writing for Aegon! I’m not nervous at all song inspo: Charlotte Cardin — Confetti (Spotify / YouTube)

>>> He’s broken from the inside out but the pieces he’s assembled of are not sharp and don’t cut like glass. The blunt edges of them are hidden behind his shirts, covered with the ink of tattoos, splatters of scars you want to trace with your finger and know more of. He doesn’t stay long enough for you to ask questions.

The first time he comes in, it’s a summer evening, the air veiled with humidity, the dancefloor is filled with heated bodies and flooded with blinking lights. He goes right to the bar counter, asks for a glass of whiskey, and smiles at you but says nothing else. He dawns the alcohol in two sips and orders a second one and then a third almost immediately, and your curiosity peaks just as fast. It’s a routine you’ve gotten used to — the more people drink, the more they want to talk, even the most quiet and prideful ones, and it works with practically everyone. Yet, with him, it doesn’t. He’s wearing dark colors — a grey tank top, black shirt thrown over, and matching jeans, and you descry a dice inked into the inside of his forearm. The cube is as blank as his face: it betrays nothing of what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking of, and his fingers stay glued to the glass.

The music rumbles, and some girls — in short, glittery dresses, glamorously pretty — come by to say hi to him, to lean in closer, their lips grazing his cheek, leaving shimmering strokes of gloss. But he looks through them, and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes which are the depth of the sea and hide just as many secrets. He is carelessly polite, he makes dry jokes, he buys more whiskey. A few times your gazes meet, and he doesn’t look away.

You learn his name from the check he leaves. He asks for yours the second time he comes to the bar.

>>> Aegon starts coming every weekend, and two weeks turn into three, then into a month, and he quickly becomes a regular. He sits on the barstool in the farthest corner, where the scattering light of the disco ball can’t reach him, he doesn’t cause problems, he drinks way more than you think he can handle. Still, his gaze stays sharply sober, and the green of his eyes reminds you of storm waves raging with unexplainable, deep-rooted sadness.

He’s generous with tipping but never with his words, and it seems wrong to disturb his melancholy, so you don’t allow yourself to, only pouring him more whiskey and keeping your empathy from pouring out of you. But with Aegon, the silence never feels heavy, and you catch yourself thinking that walking up to him is like retreating to an oasis of calm in the midst of a roaring torrent of voices. You also sometimes think there are glimpses of his eagerness — to talk to you, to be in your presence, and when you give him his drinks, your fingers brush more often than not. And yet, something holds him back from making the first step. But maybe you’re only imagining that.

And then it turns out that you aren’t.

“I find it weirdly coincidental that the guy only comes here on your shifts”, the bouncer nods in Aegon’s direction while stopping by to grab a bottle of water. It’s one of the last days of August, its agonizing heat finally fading away. “Does he want to make a move on you or something? Does he ever move from that spot? Looks like a part of the interior, I swear.”

You laugh it off, but your face flushes, and you feel Aegon watching you even before you turn to him. He calls for you barely a minute after the bouncer goes away. Aegon’s wearing a dark green shirt, silky and carelessly unbuttoned, and there’s a hint of a smile in the corners of his lips.

“Am I in trouble?” he leans in on the counter ever so slightly and taps on his glass.

You pour more alcohol in, and even though he’s the one drinking, you suddenly feel tipsy. You wonder if it has something to do with how his gaze feels on you — like a touch of warm summer breeze, like he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms. And you’d love to know what it’s like.

“I think you’re the only one here who doesn’t bring trouble,” you tell him as his fingers hook around the glassy surface — and he’s looking straight at you. With the bravery that usually only comes after three shots of tequila, you add: “You’re quickly becoming a favorite customer of mine.”

When your eyes lock, you catch a spark of mischief in his. It’s the first evening when he leaves without finishing his drink.

>>> September brings in some fresh air, and while the trees start dropping out their leaves, Aegon slowly drops his guard: there are layers to it put over the years — brickwork over concrete, and you tear them down with patience and care. He opens up to you cautiously but with so much candor, you wonder if anyone ever bothered to look past his feigned restraint before.

There are a lot of good things about Aegon — you get to them first, and it feels like you’ve never laughed as much as you do with him. He’s charming but with no underlying motive behind it, he talks with his hands and fiddles with his rings, he is childishly enthusiastic about the things he enjoys. He can play guitar, and you talk him into showing it to you one night, when most of the customers have left, and the approaching dawn is hidden by a veil of the rain clouds. The blasting music is turned down, and he only had one Gin & tonic so far.

He touches the strings with tenderness, with focus, and the flow of the melody is so perfectly smooth, he plays the song like he owns it. You busy yourself with wiping cocktail glasses just so you can fight the urge to touch him. When Aegon starts singing, it comes out almost accidentally, as if the lyrics slip out of his mouth on its own. He stops the very next second.

“ ’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he mumbles.

“I quite liked it,” you assure him — and you are not lying. His voice is soft but with veiled depth, and you want to listen to him singing until the rain stops; maybe even longer. He’s sitting across from you, your bodies only separated by the counter. Sometimes it feels like if you take a layer off too fast, he’ll grow another one, so you tread lightly. “Who taught you how to play?”

“I’m self-taught,” Aegon gives you a short smile. “But I never took it seriously.”

“It looks to me like you made some effort,” you tilt your head at him. “Do you play often?”

“Nah, only when I’m in the mood for it.”

“And what mood is that?”

His fingers absentmindedly follow the contours of a guitar he’s got tattoed on his wrist.

“A weird one,” he manages. “But music helps to take my mind off it, I guess.”

That thing he doesn’t want to think of — you fear that it never goes away, always lurking up there in his head, with its eyes glowing in the darkness of the worst of his thoughts that he’s yet to share with you. He eagerly welcomes any distraction — you are eager to provide him with one.

“What was the first song you learned how to play?”

The grin comes back on his face, and his sadness recedes, like the water at low tide, and the unnamed weight is temporally lifted off his shoulders.

“Oh, it’s silly,” he starts playing again, and the rhythm builds up, cheerful and catchy, and you instantly find it familiar. You’re trying to remember where you heard it before — and the realization brings a smile to your face.

“Is this from Duck Tales?”

“Yeah,” Aegon chuckles. “My youngest brother Daeron used to love it, could spend hours watching the telly,” he’s maybe a little abashed but he isn’t ashamed of talking about it. “It was an easy tune to learn. Kinda helped to negotiate the terms of his bedtime.”

“Well, I’ll take Duck Tales over... whatever it is that our DJ loves,” you share a laugh. “And what’s your favorite tune?”

Any other guy, you think, would’ve tried to impress you and rushed to strum some rock or botch some classics (you’ve had that unfortunate experience before) but Aegon doesn’t play pretense. At least, not with you.

“It’s usually just a mix of everything I can think of,” he shrugs. “Like, maybe some Oasis, Rolling Stones, The Black Keys,” he trails off, eyes not leaving your face.

He’s so obviously hesitant about sharing that as if his music choice is what can scare you away. Not him drinking, or regularly staying up late, or bottling up decades-worth of feelings — all that is seemingly a given. But somehow his playlist is the real secret, and it wrings your heart to know he trusts you that much.

“That’s an intriguing mix,” you smile wider in a sign of approval. “What will it take to convince you to play me a snippet?”

“That’s a suspicious amount of confidence that you have in my abilities,” Aegon narrows his eyes with a fake concern. He beams at you in barely a second.

“You can call me an optimist.”

“Well, you’re getting a front-row seat to my impromptu concert, then. No predictions on the genre, though.”

“I think I’ll like it either way,” you put the last glass aside to give him your full attention.

Aegon adjusts the guitar and swiftly gets it in tune, and the intricate melody comes to life in his hands, made of bits and notes both known and unfamiliar to you. He’s in his element, and for a few minutes it’s smooth sailing, and your heartfelt excitement is his tailwind.

But then you notice the slightly lost look in his eyes like he’s got reminded of something he wants to run from, and he knocks down the rhythm a little — and then he picks it up, and it quickens as if he’s racing against the past that will inevitably catch up to him. He’s got no guitar pick, it’s just his fingers against brass-plated strings, and his movements are violently concentrated, visibly too harsh. You’re unduly afraid the metal will cut into his skin in no time.

You lean over the polished benchtop to intercept his hand, and Aegon flinches at the touch, and the flow of the music is cut off. While his subconsciousness is swimming out to the surface of reality, you pull his palm away from the instrument and intertwine your fingers with his, his skin heated and pale, the guitar inked into his arm being the only bright spot. And then, without really wanting to, you realize that the tattooed horizontal strings were meant to cover something of a similar pattern. You run your thumb over the black stripes laid on top of the long-faded white ones, barely visible but still palpable.

“Did it hurt?” you ask him in a whisper, careful as if you’re tiptoeing around a sleeping beast. And you are not talking about the tattoo.

The silence only lasts for a heartbeat.

“It was bearable,” Aegon tells you, not entirely avoidant of the truth but maybe still tormented by it. “I’m all good now,” he adds in a soothing tone, even though he is the one whose heart needs to be soothed and patched up. Pressing him for details feels like asking to rip open a wound, and you don’t think his have healed properly.

He’s still holding your hand but you know he’ll flee away soon like he always does, and you have no right to hold him back. You wish he could stop holding on to the things that left him so anxious and scarred.

“It’s fair for the last drink to be on the house,” you grant him another smile and let go of his hand, and there’s a flash of regret on his face that you can’t help but share.

It also feels fair to not make him dive into that black void of his memories so you put a clean glass in front of him and reach for the ingredients. Aegon curiously watches you adding cubes of ice, mint leaves, lemon juice, slices of lime. Then you pull out a cooled glass bottle of San Pellegrino.

“An interesting choice,” Aegon notes joyfully.

You actually don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone being so thrilled about drinking water. While it fizzles and fills the glass, it dawns on you: he does want to break the cycle of his self-destruction. He’s just so used to it, he stopped looking for a way out.

“Anything can pass as a cocktail if you make it look fancy enough,” you drizzle the drink with orange-flavored syrup and push it toward him.

Aegon takes a big sip and grins. “Tastes like Fanta,” he gulps half a glass, then chews on ice, his lips glistening with melted liquid. “Haven’t had it since I was, like, fifteen or something.”

“Well, if you are ever in need of some sweetened water, you know at least one bartender you can ask,” you joke as he pulls out a phone to get an Uber.

His finger stops an inch away from the screen, and Aegon gives you a long, wistful stare, but you struggle to read the meaning behind it, as his eyes are a kaleidoscope of emotions. You wish you could discern just one so maybe you’ll have a reason to justify whatever it is that you are feeling for him.

“I don’t go to any other bars,” he says, looking through car options. “So you better stock up on that water. Because your bartending talents are quickly winning this cold heart of mine.”

Aegon makes it sound very casual, like a joke made in passing, and you try not to think too much into it. But right before leaving, he glances at you again, and his whole face lights up. And then comes the awareness, like the sun emerging from the clouds: he is winning your heart, too.

>>> October is muddy and grey, lacking sunlight but not rainfall, and you think it’s the brightness of neon lights that beckons people in, and the bar stays packed night after night. You can’t seem to catch a break, your hands moving on their own accord, repeating all the well-learned steps, memorized recipes — swirls of orange and cranberry juice in Sex on the Beach, Bloody Mary garnished with a celery stick, the balance of sweetness and the tang of lime in Margarita. Surprisingly, Aegon is deadset on drinking nothing but fancy-looking water. Not surprisingly at all, you still think about him every spare minute that you have.

Getting to the deeper layers of him feels like drilling through an iceberg, and the baggage of his past is so big, it will hardly fit in any plane’s luggage compartment. You try not to pry, cherry-picking the words, the topics, the questions. Aegon lets you without ever resisting. Each evening, he chooses a different flavor of syrup as he tells you more about himself: he was a menace in school, hated chemistry and never been good at sports, prefers to avoid vodka since that one time he tried it in college and it didn’t end well. He has pictures with his mom, with two brothers and a sister, but not with his dad, and he never talks about him. You think he does it instinctively — like avoiding a bump on a road he’s taken even since he was a kid.

There are a lot of blank spots in his retelling of the childhood years but he does mention he got his first tattoo at fifteen. It’s a razor blade, and he taps on the area of his shoulder where it’s at, covered by the material of his blue shirt. You don’t dare to voice the question but it’s ringing in your head: has it all started when he was fifteen? Or that’s when he got better? Did he actually get better?

Some days, by the looks of it, he is getting better. When he’s excitedly stirring his drink with a straw, when he’s asking about your day, when he comes up with playful descriptions of every customer in the nearest proximity to make you smile (it works wonders). In these moments, you dare to think that he seems bored with everybody else but you.

But there are other days too, when he is joined by the motley crowd of people consisting, as you guess, of his friends. It feels like they hardly have anything in common — they are loud, giggling, making toasts for no reason, throwing money away. None of them notice that his tastes have changed; none of them are aware of all the little things you notice. That his fingers drum to the rhythm of the music but he refuses to go dancing, glued to his chair, clinging to his glass. That he’s the life of the party but he looks out of place, and his loneliness is the only thing that stays by his side. Sometimes it seems like he doesn’t even want to be here — drinking, thinking, cursed with his desire for solitude — and you wonder why he keeps coming, then.

And it’s horrifying how much it hurts you to think that one day he might stop.

>>> November passes almost in a blink, and the weather cools down, but the crowds of customers don’t get smaller, and you think your smile looks too pained to even bother forcing it. With the cold season comes bitter Old Fashioned with a cherry on top, spicey Mulled Wine, blood-colored Sangria. There is the never-ending clinking of glasses, chattering, cozy jazz playing in the background, and you save your energy for Aegon only — for when he comes with his tireless jokes, his sincere laugh, his gaze enveloping you like the fuzziest blanket.

The month is nearing its end, and so does your patience which some drunk man has been testing for almost two hours. You keep watching the clock — Aegon usually comes around 10 p.m., and you all but count minutes, and then seconds... and then it’s half past 10 but he hasn’t shown up.

In thirty minutes your worry grows, spreads, takes the form of a tsunami. It dawns on you that you don’t even have his phone number. He can just disappear, like a homeless man swallowed by the ocean, and you won’t ever find him.

“Hey, are you retarded? Come fetch me another drink, I’ve been calling you for five minutes,” the drunkard whines from the other end of the bar.

You hold back a huff and give an insincere apology and whip him up another Whiskey on the rocks. Your gaze absentmindedly scans the crowd when you see Aegom coming — and it looks like he emerged from a blizzard. For a second it seriously confuses you — it’s too early for snow, and you don’t remember what was the weather forecast. But after Aegon plops on his usual spot, you come closer and realize: it’s confetti. He is covered almost head to toe in the tiniest pieces of paper, multicolored and shiny, stuck in his hair, sprinkled over his shoulders, sparkling on his snow-white shirt.

Aegon looks like he might as well be covered in ashes — he is unbearably beautiful but also visibly, tragically unhappy. You all but dart to him.

“Can I have, like, a glass of vodka or something,” he asks morosely. “Vodka on the rocks maybe? I don’t know if it’s a thing.”

Your eyes are watchful, searching for clues, but you can’t dissect his mournful gaze, can’t see through his despondent face expression.

“Is there a reason for —” you are thinking of a word but he cuts you off.

“No reason,” and his tone is cold like ice, and he isn’t looking at you.

Aegon blinks once, twice, shifts on his seat, sighs. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” his gaze finds yours, almost desperate as if he’s drowning and looking for a life ring. “It’s my birthday. And I hate it.”

You involuntarily reach for his hand — you almost touch him but then the annoyed voice comes again:

“Can anyone get me whiskey in this godforsaken bar?!”

Aegon turns his head and looks in the man’s direction, very obviously displeased. You go to the disgruntled idiot again, put some ice cubes in his glass (he loudly counts them), pour him whiskey (he demands you add more), fight the urge to throw it in his face (maybe that will sober him up). Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that one of the security guys stealthily moves closer.

You come back to Aegon, your chest overflowing with both relief and concern.

“Why don’t you like your birthday? I mean, I also don’t throw parties on mine so I get it. But if you don’t want to celebrate it, you can pretend it’s just another day.”

Another day of him not drinking, another day of him staying on track to some happier future, you mean. A future where you’ll manage to finally help him heal every scar of his. You see a small, weary, somber smile growing on his face, and Aegon opens his mouth and —

“Your whiskey is some horseshit!” the familiar voice cries out.

Before you can react, Aegon interjects. “What the hell is your problem?” he looks at the man again without a smidgen of fear. The drunkard bores his gaze into him in return, red-faced and sweating with anger.

“Aegon, it’s not worth it, really —”

“No, he’s being disrespectful toward you, and you don’t deserve it,” he punctuates, specks of darkness in his eyes.

“O-oh, am I offending your darling?” the man mocks. “Are you two fucking? Maybe I should also bend her over the counter so she’ll give me some decent booze.”

He is quite irritating, yes, but you see men like him as just a part of your job, and you are used to them being armed with pathetically exaggerated self-esteem. But Aegon doesn’t see it that way, and ire sweeps him over like a tidal wave.

“You need to apologize,” he insists, looking the man dead in the eyes.

“Or what, huh? I’m the one with the money here, and the customer is always right!”

“She isn’t paid to tolerate your fucked-up behavior,” Aegon bristles, and the man jumps down the barstool and clasps the glass, spilling what’s left in it on the counter. You don’t care about it. You can’t care about anything but the fact that Aegon also gets up. It’s a new layer of his — with stubbornness, bitter temper, a frown plastered on his face. But you are not afraid of him. You are afraid for him, and fear leaves you frozen on the spot.

“I bet she gets paid enough for her to move her feet instead of making customers wait,” the man snarls, raising his voice, attracting attention. “These bitches can only flash their tits and complain! Never get their fucking job done!”

You think he isn’t talking about you anymore — drunk people will take any chance to overshare, — and you want to reassure Aegon you are not insulted or upset, and you see the security guy wading through the crowd and toward you. But then the situation escalates with a speed of a shot arrow.

Three things happen, barely a few seconds apart: the drunk man swings the glass at you, Aegon moves to stand in his way, then comes the sound of the glass breaking. It shatters into pieces that go everywhere — on barstools, on the counter, and behind it, some even reach the wall you are standing next to. You only come to your senses when the troublemaker is pried away from the bar.

“It’s not even Halloween yet, and I’m already seeing nonhuman creatures,” the security guy scoffs, grabbing him by the collar, then shoots Aegon a cool glance.

You rush to intervene. “He only tried to help!”

The bouncer gives him a look over. “Man, you are bleeding,” he notes and then drags the boozer away.

The manager comes running up to you, suggesting you take a break, but your gaze is drawn to Aegon — he’s got a cut on his cheekbone, and blood is coming out, bright maroon running down his face. He raises his hand to touch the wound, then looks down at his stained fingers in disarray.

“I didn’t really feel it, I —”

“We’ve got a first-aid kit, come on,” you take him by the hand and lead the way, taking big steps, rounding the counter, pushing the back door wide open.

Aegon doesn’t make a sound, only following you obediently, his fingers tugging at yours. You reach the utility room, and you sit him down on some impromptu chair made of stacked-up boxes, then go to look for medical supplies. He keeps his eyes on you.

You bring a cold pack, antiseptic wipes, bandages, and turn on the flashlight on your phone to examine the cut.

“It’s not that deep so you won’t need stitches,” your voice comes off too stern, and you notice how he shrivels at the sound of it.

You feel determination, guilt, and anger — not at him but at yourself, and the fear still hasn’t left, and the words that are filled with it flow out first.

“That was very stupid of you,” you tell Aegon, applying the cold pack to the wounded side of his face, “You could’ve been injured, seriously injured,” with your other hand, you wipe the dried blood off his skin. “You got lucky the man was too wasted to aim well. He could’ve cut you way deeper, or poke your eye, or —”

It’s the lack of response that makes you stop, and your eyes glide over him. Now he does look ashamed, but his shame comes off as a meek, habitual reaction to yet another mistake he made. You think back to his deep-rooted sadness, scars covered with ink and shirts, pain hidden under layers of mirth.

You don’t want to add to his misery, you want the exact opposite.

You throw away the wipe streaked with blood, get another one. And then you place a finger beneath his chin to lift it.

“I mean, it was also brave,” this time, your movements are more gentle, and so is your gaze. “No one ever did anything like that for me. And I should totally thank you.”

He considers the change in you — and welcomes it, grinning boyishly again, his irises the color of the sea that merged with the sky.

“What can I say? I’m doing my best to maintain my very manly image,” Aegon cackles, taking the cold pack from you, wriggling his face a little at the numbness.

“This might sting a little,” you warn him and put the wipe soaked with the antiseptic right to his cut.

“Ouch-ouch-ouch,” he mutters, eyes squeezed shut, nose scrunched.

You let out a short laugh. “That’s a crack in your macho image,” you remark, lightly pressing on his wound for just a moment. “But I am willing to look past that.”

Aegon is suddenly in no hurry to open the eyes. His smile falls away, his glee disappears as if swept away by a gust of wind. He’s both the drifting ship and the force of nature that ruins it.

“I am not the best company, you see,” he says sullenly after a pause, averting his gaze. “I’m all cracks and hollow.”

His wound isn’t bleeding anymore, but his heart is, and you can only patch one thing at a time. You take a band-aid, unwrap it and carefully place over his cut, smoothing out the adhesive edges.

“Leonard Cohen would’ve disagreed,” you respond, your fingers delicately brushing his cheek. “He said that’s how the light gets in.”

Aegon is quiet at first, positively stunned as if you are a guiding star, and he’s only seen utter darkness before that. You almost get shy with nervousness but then he stands up. “Dance with me,” he says, in a voice low and pleading.

“But there is no music, how can —”

He lays a thumb on your lower lip, silencing you. “Shhh, just listen,” he murmurs.

For half a minute you hear nothing, wondering if the walls are soundproof, but then you catch it — the notes of music echoing from the bar, muffled but still audible. You don’t know what song is it, what the lyrics are, what’s it about. But Aegon takes your hand in his — and it’s just you two in the middle of the dimly lit room, the walls separating you from the outside world, your bodies only getting closer, slowly swaying to the faint rhythm.

Him cautiously laying a palm on your waist is what gives you the courage to speak up.

“Someone told me it’s a weird coincidence that you come only on my shifts,” you mention, watching his reaction.

Aegon doesn’t shy away from your gaze. “Not a coincidence,” he confesses. “Does it bother you?”

“Not at all,” you assure him quickly. “I find it flattering that you appreciate my cocktail-making abilities that much,” and then you draw in a deep breath as if you’re about to dunk underwater. “But maybe there’s more to it... Maybe there is another reason?”

You notice his cheeks flushing with a touch of pink, and you expect him to take time to unravel the tangle of excuses or to make some. Instead, he lists fervently, like it’s something he’s always wanted to tell you:

“You are caring. And funny, and gentle. You are easy to talk to, accepting and calm. And you listen, without judgment or disapproval. And you never... you never ask me to be someone else,” that last part is the hardest one — and yet, he adds, “With you, I feel like I’m enough.”

There are no layers left, you realize, — it’s just him: sad and broken and lost. But with his eyes still shining with warmth, his gaze searching and hopeful. He is still beautiful, no matter how scarred.

Your fear crumbles into pieces, small like confetti, and you close the distance between you two, your mouth finding his, hands gliding up his shoulders. For a second his lips don’t move, and his breathing hitches. He blindly tucks away your lock of hair, and his finger slowly traces the angle of your jaw, as if he wants to make sure he’s not dreaming.

And then Aegon tugs you closer, and his hand cradles your face — and he kisses you.

He is tender, his lips soft like the foam of a wave, their movement steady, like he’s writing down all the words left unsaid, leaving you infatuated, breathless, and enamored of him. There are no secrets, no doubts, no regrets. In place of his darkest memories, you are planting new ones, and his affection is blooming already.

When you open your eyes and meet his, his gaze is nothing but loving, and Aegon holds you in his arms, the way you’ve always dreamt of. You brush a few pieces of confetti out of his hair, and you hope that one day his pain will disappear just as fast.

He is broken from the inside out but you find it easy to love every single piece he’s assembled of.

✧ technically, I got inspired by the piano version of that song (it’s sad) and the live version (it’s even sadder), and that was the reason I decided to add a kissing scene. not that anyone asked but now you know lmao ✧ this photoshoot of Tom deserves way more attention ✧ as does his band! go give them a listen ✧ Duck Tales theme guitar cover as a bonus

✧ another one-shot inspired by some music (Aemond x reader) ✧ my HOTD multi-chapter fic because why not ✨my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

#aegon targaryen #my stuff #this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks... I am actually nervous lmao #also someone said that song is the hymn of introverts #but I genuinely believe the lyrics work well for Aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen fanfiction #aegon targaryen fanfics #aegon targaryen fics #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon modern au #hotd modern au #aegon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #tw self-harm #(< adding just in case but there aren’t any descriptions or anything triggering imo)

[lovingnekoma]

kuroo headcanons for the soul

minors do not interact. i have promised and delivered @srbxzero for you, my beloved

tw/cw: gn reader. nsfw below the cut — praise, degradation. mentions of semipublic sex, exhibitionism, mirror sex, petnames

i shall set the scene: it’s a bad day. your joints hurt and work was an exhaustive capitalist hellscape and you are one wrong word away from giving up escaping to a lakeside cabin. so you get home, irritable and too exhausted to be irritable, and kuroo knows. he knows by the curve of your mouth and the slump of your shoulders and sends you off to shower. he brings you your favourite hot beverage and puts on a stupid show, something real estate or animal related or your comfort animation, and cooks for you. your day was shit but you go to bed warm and loved and full.

kuroo has amassed a very very large collection of sweatshirts because not only does he buy enough for himself, he buys extra knowing you’re going to steal them. additionally, if he’s buying you a hoodie, he buys it in his size so he can steal it. he calls you a sweater thief and himself pragmatic. like ok consumer

likes to collect things ! when he was a kid he had a bookmark collection (specifically the math and science ones). he travels a lot more these days and likes to pick out magnets for the fridge.

sends you postcards if it’s a long trip. it does not matter if he’ll be back sooner than the postcard will arrive. kuroo has come home from three weeks in america and three days later you got a postcard addressed to “the love of my life”. fucking dork.

genuinely laughs at science memes and jokes. like it does not matter if it is an awful generic physics pun or some niche chemistry joke. he thinks they’re hilarious in a corny, genuine kind of way. you get him those awful shirts with the puns printed out on them and he wears them unironically all the time.

kenma and kuroo are still and always will be besties. there are many times you come home and kenma is over and they are both curled up on the couch. and almost all those times you have just inserted yourself into the cuddle pile and been welcomed. you and kenma are besties — nothing like trashing kuroo and sitting in ambient, comforting silence as you do your own thing.

(i know this is a kuroo headcanon thing but sometimes you and kenma will be on facetime / videocall for hours just vibing. not to say you don’t do that with kuroo too, but rather that you and kenma have a longstanding weekly videocall date).

kuroo likes to bring you flowers but is also delighted when he receives flowers. or when you make him coffee in the morning (he usually does a coldbrew but he’ll never turn down a cortado from the very expensive coffee machine that kenma gifted him).

wears birkenstocks and crocs and slides bc theyre comfy. new balance shoes bc theyre ergonomic. $5000 dress shoes for work. i have nothing else to say.

big fan of jasmine tea and green tea. not a huge fan of hot chocolate but drinks it on the bad days

kuroo eventually joins the local volleyball club that consist of people around his age who will play rec games with other clubs / scrimmage with each other. you are unsure how long this mans will actually last on there considering he is a househusband, works a full time business job and already goes for runs int he morning but he genuinely enjoys going and is on a mission to drag kenma out too. you show up to his games with oranges and water bottles and he kisses you, messy and sweating and glowing with satisfaction, after every game

you guys have a full sized 12 month calendar (cat themed) where you plan out cute dates and grocery shopping days. kuroo is a big meal planner and while you do your fair share of cooking, it’s easier for you to just stock up so you have anything you need on hand. it’s all very domestic and organized and very kuroo. and there is, admittedly, nothing like watching his bright grin over the calendar, inordinately expensive pen in hand to match with his ratty, too short sweatpants and bed head.

kuroo keeps a photo of you in his wallet, tucked behind a couple of cards he rarely uses. i want to say he blushes but this man can also have mad game when he wants. he tries to convince you to keep a polaroid of him but you refuse to carry his dick pic around

bangs fists on table exhibitionist kuroo who slides his hands up your thighs when you’re seated at a restaurant, keeps them high on your leg the whole night. likes to run his fingertips over sensitive places to make you twitch while talking. does an awful job of not smirking while doing so

kuroo is not huge on pda but definitely can do a little sloppy public makeout, a little semi public groping. semi public sex is always a yes for him, esp if someone’s been hitting on you that night

likes to praise and degrade you in turns (calls you sweet, calls you a slut. tells you how you’re all he can think about, his perfect whore). lots of pet names (you know he calls you kitten. do we even have to ask.) and heavy petting

foreplay lasts hours and half of it can be mostly talking, just him saying things to get you riled and teasing / goading you until you’re shaking

loves fingering you, loves eating you out and being on his knees for you. mirror sex is always a yes but in general he loves being able to watch your face

#kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #exhibitionism tw #praise tw #degradation tw #semi public tw #mirror sex tw #artemis.writes #kuroo #haikyuu smut #god i hate tagging things #is scrimmage only a soccer term idk i only know soccer #this is everything i have in me atm and i will inevitably add more #ilysm andy #and i hope u enjoy

[thotkumi]

Hinata: m'lord we're going to die!!!

Takumi: yep

Hinata: we're going to die virgins!!!!!

Takumi: nope

Hinata: Prince Leo????

Takumi: yep

Hinata: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa

#leokumi #based on that one meme #buy my silence for $5000 a month i will stop

[onestrangenovelist]

i love that this is a universal test taking thing, no matter what country

#juli speaks #these two are both 'head empty' i love it #tv tag: wqsn #i finally gave it a liveblog tag because i wont shut up...buy my silence for 5000 a month

[creativeashproductions]

Curiosity // Luke Patterson

Summary: After filling up another journal designed his songbook Luke is left empty handed. With the offer to a shelf of blanket journals is given he’s immediately choosing. But Luke’s curiosity leads him to a discovery. In other words Luke finds Perfect Harmony in Reader’s bedroom.

Requested: Yes by @averyharrypotterlife​ 

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7 (including lyrics)

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the 5000+ followers whether it was years ago and you didn’t unfollow or in the future. Thank you for enjoying and interacting in something I’ve always loved: writing.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Luke’s always been a curious person going as far back as his early childhood. The most consistent evidence being during the Christmas holidays. Until he was ten, yes, he’s aware that his friends stopped believing in Santa way earlier. The young lad would stay up hidden in the living room waiting to catch Santa. Without fail, Luke would wake up in his outer space planet sheets having fallen asleep in his mission.

When he was twelve years old, he was left at his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend due to a work-related thing. His older cousin was eighteen at the time and at college, so Luke stayed in his bedroom. Luke couldn’t help but snoop through Bryan’s personal items, and in a drawer with a false bottom, he discovered magazines.

Luke had a lot of fun that weekend diligently going through the magazines his mother would skin his hide even knowing about them. He may have had to use the excuse of having a cold for the entire box of Kleenex missing. No one was the wiser on that weekend.

Now when Luke was fourteen years old, he had snuck into the Rated R film Candyman with Alex and Reggie. Luke’s parents had been strict in their rules and definitely had shot down the question of seeing the film. The three didn’t sleep with the lights out for a month after that, and the truth came out when no lie was sufficient to their concerned parents.

Luke Patterson didn’t care about boundaries. Why ask for permission when you can just ask for forgiveness? It worked with going through Julie’s dream box, but all personal items got hidden from the ghostly guitarist.

“No!” Luke exclaimed flipping through his song journal once more in hopes of a blank page. The frustration in his body snapping the pencil he had been using.

“You good?” You questioned glancing up from the essay you graded as a teacher’s assistant for an AP course. Luke’s frustrated brown met yours with a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ve filled my journal up. I hate using loose-leaf, but no money means no buying things.” Luke roughly scrubbed one hand on his face.

“You could always just forever borrow one from the- “Luke quickly shot that down with a look of absolute horror, “Okay…so stealing a no.”

“I did listen to my parents on certain aspects. I would never steal anything, other than the food when we didn’t have enough cash.” Luke’s brown hue had softened back into the hazel that caused flutters in your heart, “I have no respect for thieves.”

You nodded before scribbling a suggestion on the paper in dark red, “I have a shelf in my room dedicated solely to blank journals. If you want to, you can take one free of charge.”

With a quick smile, Luke disappeared from the room to your personal domain he sometimes hung out with you in. You had no misgivings on the teen finding solace in your room and gave him free rein; your prized possessions hidden very well.

Luke appeared in the soft blue and lilac bedroom with the queen white iron wrought style bed in the middle. A white desk in the corner with a multitude of bookcases and shelves in the room. The desk chair neatly pushed into the desk as well he went straight to the shelf.

Journals of all colours and styles with a label on the shelf noting them as empty. It was packed with dozens, but it was the midnight blue one that called to the boy. In his reach, he bumped an emerald green one off the edge. It opened having hit the edge of the desk.

As he leaned down, he noticed notations in the margins, now remember how Luke is a curious guy? He only hesitated a second before he was reading the pages of words in your signature script.

The guilt flared for a second before he justified it as being on the shelf you declared free game. So Luke settled sitting criss-cross against the side of your bed reading the words so eloquently written. Even notes allowed Luke to hear the melody in his mind.

Assignment: Write a piece of literature from two points of views. Genre doesn’t matter as long as it is a minimum of one page and not exceed eight.

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story ’bout a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel

I’ve never heard before

The words took his breath away, recalling a moment he gushed to Alex on how he had caught you singing. He had described your voice as being angelic, and it took him by complete surprise. He remembered Julie, and you entered the room shortly after with a nervous feeling if you had heard. Now Luke had his answer. His phantom heart pounded in anticipation for the reply to this first point of view.

Here in front of me

They’re shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

Life can be so mean

But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave

The smile threatened to split his face with the elation as he continued reading with a subconscious hum. His fingers tapping the sides of the paper as his hazel irises tinged green ate up the words.

The truth is finally breaking through

Two worlds collide when I’m with you

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

The world faded as Luke distinctly heard your angelic voice singing the parts he could easily recognize as perfect for you. There was something so powerful in this incredibly personal song only intended for your eyes and your teachers.

The next handful of lines left him breathless and astonished as he visualized not sitting across from each other. But engaging in another art form that can be so incredibly intimate for people; he imagined singing this while holding you in his arms.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I’ll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we’re friends, we play pretend

You’re more to me, we’re everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

 We come to life when we’re

 In perfect harmony

 Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

 Perfect harmony

 Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

 Perfect harmony

Luke went from humming to softly singing to the heartfelt tune with a flutter of butterflies deep in his stomach. When Julie saw Unsaid Emily, he had denied it as an experiment, and it was the truth. Luke wrote rock anthems and rock-pop with his living friend. He never dabbled into romantic ones.

He’d never read something so poetically beautiful it felt him weeping at the sheer amount of feelings.

I feel your rhythm in my heart

Yeah yeah yeah

You are my brightest burning star

Whoah whoah oh

I never knew a love so real (so real)

We’re heaven on earth

Melody and words

When we’re together we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

We say we’re friends (we play pretend)

You’re more to me (we create)

Perfect harmony

His eyes found the last line of the song setting him back in a dead silence returning to the start to reread it. On his third read, he found the notes from your teacher on a separate page.

Y/N, in my years of teaching, I’ve never read something with such meaning behind it. The longing, passion, respect and love you artfully encapsulated is rare. To have written, this means you’ve felt this. No corrects needed, and I felt compelled to not mark on the piece. Thank you for being vulnerable with me, for letting me step inside your mind and please never let this emotion fade.

Your grade is A+.

Luke’s lips pulled apart at the genuine words your teacher had written because it indeed was a word of art. Carefully Luke returned the notebook back to the shelf to retrieve the blue one that caught his attention. AS he turned, he found you leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I am so sor-“

“No.” You replied, walking into the room, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I told you any notebook on that shelf. I can’t get mad, and I’ve seen you can’t leave something half-read.”

“Probably why my book reports were insanely well done in school.” Luke joked as you stepped in his personal space. The tension faded from his shoulders as he took in your features, “You got a perfect grade.”

“I did.” You simply spoke, staring up into his eyes, “You helped me with it.”

“How?”

“You told Alex what you felt about my voice. You looked nervous when I walked in, so I let it go. It wasn’t the time to bring it up. It’s called Perfect Harmony.” You told the ghost gently grazing your fingertips on his hand. The feeling sends shudders down his spine.

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time. With the band and-“

“-the whole soul owning thing. Too much but now that you’ve read that…what do you feel?” You hesitantly asked because reading it and discovering how someone feels is another to if the feelings are reciprocated back.

“That I was always meant to live in 2020. That I was meant to love you with every atom in my very being.” Luke murmured before he crashed his lips onto your own in a searing kiss that had your toe-curling.

The midnight blue journal dropped to the floor as his large calloused hands cupped your face to feel the warmth. The very journal would be filled with songs all about this person, Luke adored not matter his state as a ghost. Two worlds collided just as two souls came together in perfect harmony.

So, wrapped up in each other Luke didn’t notice something magical encased in the warm love. In the bedroom, the two teens were kissing in had two distinct heartbeats with a glow emanating from Luke Patterson.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @parkeret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds  @siriuswvrld​ @princessvader15​ @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle​ @joshy-obx​ @lovesanimals​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you​ @jaskiers-sweetkiss​ @lostrandomfangirl​n @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @jatp-holland​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland​ @dasexydevitt13​ @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​ @ssprayberrythings​​ @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @zukoshonourr​ @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch​ @kcd15​ @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl​ @all-in-fangirl​ @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @badwolf00593​ @blowakissbabe​ @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @writerinlearning​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @sageellsworth05

#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #caitsy and ash productions

[newtonsheffield]

Hellooooo hope you’re doing good! Basically I went to London today and I really wanted to go to the Natural History Museum so I could find myself a Goose- alas I didn’t end up going to the museum, thus not finding a Goose on my travels. Sigh. So I was wondering if instead I could request some Eddie & Goose content? Thank youuuu ✨

Ohhhhh Man! I tell you what, I need to start walking quickly round corners in Museums and see what shakes out! If anyone tries this method of securing a husband, please let me know. Enquiring minds and all that! Aaaaand I hope you had fun in London even without getting to meet a handsome Gander. Man, I miss going to big cities. I live in a small town (Pop.5000) which is probably an hour and a half from a regional city (Cairns, QLD if anyone is curious, Right off the Great Barrier Reef) but the next like... Capital (Big) city is a two day drive from me or a 3 hour plane ride so... Australia is a behemoth country and there's nothing there!

ANYWAY! Eddie and Goose, Beautiful little beans. Do you wanna see Goose's birthday?

Play the theme song 🎶 Eddie and Goose, Eddie and Goose, two little sunshine kiiiids 🎶

As embarrassing as it was to say, none of Edwina's ex boyfriends had ever celebrated her birthday, she honestly hadn't even wanted them too which certainly should have been a sign that they'd had so many red flags they were practically wearing a red poncho, which meant, in turn, she'd actually never celebrated a boyfriend's birthday. So maybe it was stupid but when her fiancé had smiled happily and said "I don't usually do anything for birthdays, I just buy a cupcake and call it a day if I can't get out to my mum's." She'd been a little disappointed. She knew he didn't mean it as a rejection, but even so it stung a little.

But even so she'd spent weeks trying to decide on the perfect gift for Matthew. She'd asked Kate's advice, nervously hovering in her kitchen as Anthony flitted around his pregnant wife, in full mother hen mode once more. "I got Anthony engraved cufflinks the first Valentines we were together." Kate said, humming happily, kissing her husband's cheek when he placed a muffin in front of her. Edwina scoffed. "Cufflinks?! Jesus Kate, you two are so boring!" She said a little irritatedly "Hey!" Kate said indignantly, "He needed them, his broke!" Anthony nodded, a little indignantly at her. Edwina rolled her eyes, "Sorry, you didn't tell me they were a practical gift. How romantic." "I wear them every day, and I like looking at them knowing Kate picked them for me." Anthony said pointedly, rolling his own eyes in response before scooping a wriggling Edmund up. "Here's an idea Eddie, why don't you give Goose back your engagement ring for his birthday?" Anthony chuckled to himself as Kate rolled her eyes, and Edwina swept from the room with a "You two are useless!" and a rude hand gesture.

Even so, something about what Anthony had said had stuck in her mind, and now she was left hovering nervously in the doorway of her bedroom, The sandwich cake she'd made from Anthony's recipe balanced on a plate, the wrapped box burning against her hand. He was just stirring when she entered the room, his eyelids flickering open slowly, scanning the room for her, the soft crooked smile that had first made her heart skip slowly dawning on his face as his hand groped around for his glasses.

"Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Matty, Happy birthday to you." Edwina sung lightly as she made her way through the bedroom, crouching slightly as she held the cake out to him, his sleepy smile causing the butterflies in her stomach to beat more furiously. "Make a wish." she whispered softly as he blew out the candles leaving a soft kiss on her cheek. "You really didn't have to go to all the trouble." he said, leaving the cake on the bedside table in favour of tugging her down to sit across his legs. "That's a bake off winning cake thank you very much Matthew Bagwell. Paul Hollywood gave me a handshake for that cake. Many a man would think themself very lucky to have me back that cake for them." she said teasingly, unable to stop the smile on her face. "I don't doubt that at all." Silence echoing softly through the room as their eyes caught softly.

And then, "I got you this as well." Edwina said awkwardly, forcing the box into his hand before she could lose her nerve. He stared curiously down at it "Eddie I said you didn't have to get me anything." He said softly, something like disbelief in his voice. Edwina scoffed, "Can you just open it and tell me if you want me to return it before I lose my nerve entirely?" Matthew stared curiously at her for a second before he tugged lightly on the bow unwrapping it painfully slowly, his hand smoothing over the box before he finally opened it. He stared down at the watch silently, his finger tracing the engraving on the bezel From Edwina to Matthew Forever and Always. Edwina could feel her her teeth cutting into her bottom lip as the silence stretched on.

"It's okay if you don't like it." She said softly, nerves clawing at her chest, "I can take it back and get another one, or maybe something else? I just... I know you don't wear a watch and I thought maybe it's because you didn't have one, but if it's because you don't like them them-" Matthew cut off her rambling with a soft kiss, and she felt herself relax instantly against him. His voice shook slightly when he pulled back. "How could I not love this?" His eyes were shining behind his glasses, "I was just a little taken aback because honestly... I think this watch probably cost more than I make in six months." Edwina started to protest but he shook his head softly. "I'm not rejecting it, Honey I love it. And I'm going to wear this so much you'll be sick of the sight of it."

But honestly every time she saw it clasped firmly on his wrist she got a little thrill. Even more so when Anthony begrudgingly said the next week. "That's a nice watch, Goose." and Matthew grinned brightly, his arm around her waist. "Thanks! Eddie got it for my birthday!" Kate's head shot up. "Oh? A practical gift, Edwina. How romantic!" She said laughing at Matthew's perplexed expression, as Edwina shot her sister a rude hand gesture.

#bridgerton and sons au #edwina x matthew #edwina x goose #edwina sheffield #edwina sharma #matthew goose bagwell #goose's little birthday #some anthony and kate clown action #molly's asks and answers

[the-hidden-writer]

And Into The Fire

Chapter 12: A Definitely-Not-Plan

Summary: Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she’s seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it’s up to the Mitchells to protect them.

Taglist: @squidsushi , @astro-aye , @shitmyex, @sharks-are-friendly, @snakeguy99

Check reblogs for AO3 link!

A Definitely-Not-Plan

One of the worst parts of being a parent, Linda thought, was having to wake up your children when they were sound asleep with peace written all over their faces. As their original plan of spending the night at the campsite was discarded without warning, Aaron fell asleep very quickly into their high-speed journey to Silicon Valley. Even Rick (who had been adamant that he would stay awake) began to snore after an hour or so.

She hadn’t minded. She would much rather her boys be well-rested for whatever they were about to face.

While driving, it felt like the journey was taking forever. But now that they’d arrived it felt like it had taken no time at all. They weren’t too far from the massive Pal Labs facility that looked very menacing as it loomed in the near-distance.

They’d arrived at their destination. And she had no idea where to go from here. Unless they simply charged into the building…

Doing her best to brush all illegal-sounding thoughts from her mind, Linda continued to gently shove her son awake.

“Aaron, sweetie, we’re here.”

“Mmm not yet, Mom...”

She briefly considered leaving Aaron in the car to let him sleep. Which, although it may keep him safe, could also result in him being in a whole different danger that was out of their control. She’d rather keep him close.

“Rise and shine, son.” Rick said, purposefully speaking in a louder tone which caused Aaron to wince and squeeze his eyelids shut tighter. “We need to rescue the bots.”

That caused Aaron to stir a little. “But it’s still dark.”

It was true, dawn was only just beginning to break and soon they would lose the cover of darkness. But at least there was a chance, as small as it may be, that fewer people would be there due to it being the middle of the night.

However, Linda doubted it. Especially if both of the bots were inside.

“So what’s the plan, Lin?” Rick asked her once Aaron began to sleepily climb out of the car.

Shoot. She’d promised to have thought up a plan by the time they’d arrived in exchange for letting her drive the car. And in her defence she had tried, but without knowing what the situation was going to be like she couldn’t think of anything apart from…

“We storm in there and demand that they give them back.”

The hesitance on Rick’s face was totally justified. “Uhh, are you sure? No offence but that sounds like a pretty dumb plan, dear.”

“Got any better ideas?” She quipped back. And although it sounded sarcastic, the question was completely genuine.

“Why don’t you just pay for the bots?” Aaron supplied, shutting the car door in a way that sounded far too loud for the serenity of the night around them. “Just buy them off Pal Labs then they’ll leave us alone.”

“Aar, that’s a great idea!” Rick exclaimed in a hushed voice. “We may be completely broke afterwards, but it is a good idea.”

“Yeah…”

Linda had to admit that the idea was smart and even had a better chance of working than her plan. But there was something about the notion of having to buy her sons back that didn’t sit well with her. To treat them as collectable items, as inhuman as they were, went against all of her instincts.

(Her… sons? The bots. Her boys. Her… sons.)

“Let’s keep that as a last resort.”

“Yeah, that’s a better idea.” Rick agreed. “I’d like to save my money if possible, 'specially since I’m not working at the moment.”

She smiled at her small victory. Now came the hard part. “So… shall we go?”

“What, we just drive right up to them and walk in?” Rick frowned. “We really don’t have a better plan?”

“We never have a plan.” Aaron added from below them. “But we always win in the end, don’t we?”

Linda bit back a comment about how last time was nothing but pure luck. She also admired her son’s optimism and tried to let some of it sink in to calm her own nerves.

“You’re right.” She said, bending down to kiss Aaron’s forehead. “We’ll get them back.”

Even if it meant having to tear the whole building to the ground.

~-.-~

“I don’t understand.” Muttered Katie. “So you were trying to decommission them?”

“That’s what I thought they were trying to do.” Mark replied. “That’s what I was trying to do, but apparently that wasn’t the plan. They want one disassembled and one online for some reason.”

With Agent Ward busy elsewhere and due to the lack of agents/employees at this time of night, nobody was able to supervise the two as they sat in the locked office. It gave them an ample opportunity to have a private chat.

And it also allowed Katie to gather as much information about what the hell was going on here.

“Right… but why?”

Mark shrugged. “Beats me. Unless they want to build their own robot army-”

He paused abruptly- a look of horror growing on his face.

“Oh my god they wanna build a robot army.”

Katie wasn’t even surprised. Of course that was what they were planning, what else could it be? The robots had already proved their worth at being able to take over the world, just imagine what they would be able to do if they were utilized by the government of any country, let alone the United States.

“...Are you sure you can put him back together?” She asked quietly.

Mark Bowman blinked. “What?”

“Eri- uh, that Pal MAX bot in the lab.”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m pretty sure. I specifically told them not to break anything when taking it apart, whether they listened or not is out of my hands.”

“Right.”

They fell into silence for a few moments. Mark was sitting in his wheelie chair while Katie sat on the computer desk at the side of the room. It was surprisingly comfortable.

It was Mark that was the first to speak up again.

“You called it Eric.”

Katie hung her head. It sounded a lot more like an accusation than a comment. “Yeah… I did.”

“Why?” Mark Bowman continued. “Because the Evil Warden can’t be right, you and your family aren’t actually-”

“Working with them?” Katie finished. “I mean yeah, if adopting them counts.”

She knew it was probably a bad idea to tell him the truth, but she really needed an ally in this place, and since Mark Bowman seemed to be a prisoner in his own facility he was the best (and only) person for the job.

It took a few seconds for the implications to sink in.

“...You what? Adopted them?”

“Yeah.” Said Katie nonchalantly. “They helped us save the world, actually. A dinosaur fell on them and they turned defective and told us how to stop Pal. We literally couldn't have done it without them.”

The expression on Mark Bowman’s face was priceless.

“It's a long story. And then when all the other robots switched off, they had nowhere to go so we took them in.”

Mark looked stunned. “So you use them like normal? Get them to cook and clean and stuff?”

“God, no!” Katie cried. “They’re a part of the family! They’re practically children and they have their own personalities and everything. They gave themselves the names ‘Eric’ and ‘Deborahbot 5000’.”

“...And ‘Eric’ is chopped up on a table in Lab 5.”

Katie sighed, the memory of what she’d seen flashing through her mind. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“Well that makes a lot more sense.” Said Mark. “I still think turning them off is the best option though. They may seem nice, but they’re dangerous-”

“No they’re not! They’re absolutely harmless! Deborahbot practically started crying when he stood on a beetle by accident!”

Mark scoffed, but at least he didn’t argue.

“We all love them.” She added. “We just want them back. And I’m pretty sure the whole world is safer if they’re with my family instead of the CIA.”

Mark seemed to contemplate this for a few moments. “I mean…”

All of a sudden, the computer behind Katie began to flash red, causing her to jump straight off and Mark to leap onto his feet.

“What’s that?!” Questioned Katie, pointing at the screen that was flashing the words: CODE #15.

“That’s the alarm.” Said Mark worriedly, rushing to the computer. “Someone’s broken in.”

Comments make my day! :)

#the mitchells vs the machines #tmvtm #fic #fanfic #linda mitchell #aaron mitchell #rick mitchell #katie mitchell #mark bowman #eric and deborahbot5000 #eric and deborahbot #and into the fire

[toonbly]

change the banner or im unfollowing change the banner or im unfollowing change the abnner or im unfollwing change t

buy my silence 5000/month

for 5000 dollars a month i will stop. permanently.

[theythemsam]

Me coming home to tell my roommates the spn news: hear ye, hear ye, new spn lore just dropped, for 5000 a month you can buy my silence permanently, otherwise listen up and let me teach you a thing

#sam babbles #me reactivating this blog is a curse that touches everyone around me ❤

[witcher-not-quitter]

Angouleme: We need to open this locked door. Cahir, give me your credit card.

Cahir: Here.

Angouleme, pocketing it: Thanks. Milva, break down the door.

#angoulême #milva barring #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #Cahir #Milva #incorrect witcher quotes #Mel posts what pleases her #Definitely a modern AU thing right here al;sdkjf #$5000 a month to buy my silence

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, November 9

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Duchess Kate sets the record straight on Prince Harry and Meghan Markle 

Page 2: Ben Affleck is wasting away and friends fear he’s taking his new health regimen too far as the six-foot-four star usually weighs 208 pounds but has shriveled to a spindly 165 -- a nutritionist put him on a sensible meal plan but he’s altered it with his own fantastical ideas such as he won’t go near bread and he’s ditched pasta and he’ll eat cantaloupe and blueberries one day and nuts and seeds the next and he’ll only drink boiled water and green tea for 24 hours then break his fast with a small bowl of quinoa -- instead of pumping iron he does exercises using his own body weight like ten-minute planks -- Ben thinks he looks great but his pals fear he’s traded one addiction for another

Page 3: Love-hungry Katie Holmes is thrilled to have a new man in her life but she’s breaking the bank to keep him happy because Katie is picking up the tab wherever she goes with Emilio Vitolo Jr. because it helps her feel she’s in full control of the relationship but Emilio may be taking advantage of Katie’s generosity because Katie has been showering him with designer clothes and jewelry and even paying for a personal trainer to whip him into shape -- Katie enjoys giving her guy things he can appreciate because he’s made her so happy but she may go broke doing it and it’s not like he doesn’t have any money; he’s worth a cool $1.5 million himself

Page 4: CNN rocked by sex scandal -- Jeffrey Toobin’s sleazy sex scandal has rocked CNN but it’s just the latest in a string of scandals at the network 

Page 5: Axed Fox News anchor Ed Henry fought back against his co-worker’s rape charges in a blockbuster lawsuit by handing the court explicit selfies and texts in an attempt to prove their tryst was consensual 

Page 6: Ryan Seacrest is downplaying his latest shocking absence from Live with Kelly and Ryan but the TV dynamo is battling a mystery illness that may force him to sign off for good -- the co-host who is a well known as a workaholic skipped out on the daytime show for the third time this year and used the coronavirus pandemic as his excuse -- Ryan was suffering badly from flu-like symptoms on the weekend before his absences but came back negative for coronavirus however doctors remain baffled by Ryan’s ongoing battles with exhaustion and weight loss and stroke-like symptoms, disgraced perv Bill Cosby’s latest mug shot shows he’s a shriveled shadow of his former self and the fallen funnyman flashed a maniacal grin while refusing to look into the camera in the picture snapped behind bars in September and he’s unshaven and his hair is ratty

Page 7: Lizzo has embarked on a radical vegan diet and extreme exercise program to save her life -- doctor warned the 350-pound singer that her daily intake of 5000 calories a day was a dangerous path to self-destruction and she needed to change her life or lose it and Lizzo finally got the message and is committed to this program but it’s been a living hell for her 

Page 8: After surviving a fiery crash at the Daytona 500 NASCAR hero Ryan Newman is locked in an ugly $50 million divorce showdown with his estranged wife -- Ryan and Kristina Newman split in 2019 after she was caught having an affair with another man and paying her love $450,000 and now Ryan’s lawyers are trying to freeze Kristina who was once referred to as the First Lady of NASCAR out of his fortune -- court papers reveal the two split in July 2019 when Kristina went to live with her boyfriend U.S. Army Captain Joe Schwankhaus who is the Chief Operations Officer of Kristina’s company VRX USA 

Page 9: Ellen DeGeneres debuted a high-flying pompadour hairstyle on her new talk show but the makeover still doesn’t get to the root of her recent problems and although her hair may be rising her show’s ratings are falling 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- pregnant Kelly Rowland, Andy Cohen took his son Benjamin for a stroll in NYC, Will Smith held court in L.A. while shooting King Richard a biopic about the dad of tennis greats Venus Williams and Serena Williams, Angela Bassett caught a drive-in screening of One Night in Miami in L.A. 

Page 11: Grieving Lisa Marie Presley has broken her silence over the suicide of her beloved only son Benjamin Keough saying her heart and soul went with him sharing her heartbreak on what would have been Ben’s 28th birthday and she added she’s dedicating herself to raising Ben’s twin half-sisters and actress sister Riley Keough, Chaka Khan refuses to duo with Ariana Grande again saying she’s not gonna do a song with no heifer -- Chaka and Ariana worked together in 2019 for the Charlie’s Angels soundtrack

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- DWTS pro Emma Slater kept a handle on her coffee while steering her e-bike (picture), it pays to be Brad Pitt’s girlfriend as his new squeeze Nicole Poturalski has doubled her modeling fees, dancing siblings Derek Hough and Julianne Hough are out of step over her sloppy personal life and his hot new judging career because these two were supposed to be the next Donny and Marie Osmond but his solo career is exploding while hers is falling apart, Madonna has always been a big believer in astrology but now she won’t even meet with people if it’s not written in the stars and she’s spending a fortune to have an army of people read her charts 

Page 13: Losing his beloved son to cancer has sparked new fears for fragile Robert Redford because Robert has struggled with his own health over the years and losing his son to bile-duct cancer is extremely worrying; he’s already frail and this has friends fearing the worst, Jeff Bridges is confident he’ll win his battle with lymphoma by coupling medical care with a strict vegan diet and chanting and spiritual healing techniques

Page 14: Convicted wife killer Scott Peterson may soon walk out of prison and grisly photos lawyers say could set him free -- following years of appeals California’s Supreme Court overturned Scott’s death penalty and now another appeal is forcing a lower court to reexamine his conviction for murdering seven months pregnant wife Laci Peterson and their unborn son Conner -- if Scott gets a retrial his legal team will be allowed to introduce new evidence including crime scene pictures that Scott’s former defense attorney said suggests Laci’s disappearance was an abduction by a satanic cult 

Page 15: Former child star Zachery Ty Bryan of Home Improvement was jailed overnight and released on $8500 bail following his bust for a fight with a galpal at an apartment complex in Eugene in Oregon -- the drama comes on the heels of Zachery’s split from wife Carly Matros the mom of his four kids

Page 16: Ryan Reynolds can’t wait to film a new rom-com with close pal Sandra Bullock but it’s causing tension with wife Blake Lively even though Blake trusts Ryan and would never forbid him from taking this part but the idea of him getting cozy with Sandra again still makes her uneasy -- now Ryan and Sandra are signed up to do The Lost City of D and despite Sandra’s denials they ever had a romance Ryan is gushing about them getting back together 

Page 17: Isolated and overlooked Today show host Hoda Kotb is being bullied off the morning show because of tepid ratings and the absence of former sidekick Kathie Lee Gifford and Mean Girls treatment by co-hosts Savannah Guthrie and Jenna Bush Hager have pushed the disillusioned anchor closer to the door -- Hoda recently filled out paperwork to adopt a third child and she’s clearly putting more emphasis on family than her career and it sends the signal she isn’t happy with her role and is not thinking of Today as her top priority, trainwreck Matthew Perry is holed up in his new Pacific Palisades beach pad  pounding out an explosive tell-all and his former Friends are quaking about what secrets he may reveal -- Matthew wants to rush the book out while interest in the Friends reunion special which was postponed by the COVID-19 pandemic remains high -- he knows an uncensored account of his time on Friends and his drug issues would be a bestseller and he intends to blow the lid off his on-set romances and address rumors he and Jennifer Aniston were more than friends 

Page 18: American Life -- her tall tale: I have the longest legs in the world 

Page 19: Jessica Simpson has been flaunting her body after dumping a shocking 100 pounds but buddies worry the drastic drop in size isn’t natural and suspect she’s been taking diet pills again and they’re worried this could escalate into a big issue

Page 20: Devastated Reese Witherspoon was hit with a depressing double whammy -- the death of her dog Pepper from cancer and the delay of her long-awaited sequel Legally Blonde 3, Hollywood Hookups -- John Cena and Shay Shariatzadeh wed, Ashley Hebert and J.P. Rosenbaum split, Cardi B and Offset on again

Page 21: Bruce Willis is back in another Die Hard but this time it’s a commercial for Advance Auto Parts and Die Hard batteries and it’s a clear statement on the state of his career that Bruce has to revisit his amazing past to make a fast buck in the present, Giada De Laurentiis has been given the green light to get married by her 12-year-old daughter Jade -- Giada has dated TV producer Shane Farley for five years and he’s been living with mother and daughter for five months during the pandemic lockdown which gave Jade a firsthand look at what it would be like to have a new daddy and Shane’s passed the test with flying colors 

Page 22: Cover Story -- Prince William’s heartsick wife Kate Middleton is breaking her silence about the royal family’s tumultuous bitter break with Prince Harry and Meghan Markle to set the record straight and save Britain’s monarchy and she’s tired of all the rumors and lies and backbiting and after all the drama and negativity she wants to get the truth out there and end this unprecedented crisis that’s endangering the monarchy’s survival -- friends are trying to convince Kate to do an official sit-down TV interview about what really happened between once-inseparable William and Harry and how Harry and Meghan tore the family apart even before they moved to America but Kate is resisting because she fears that could backfire like Princess Diana’s TV tell-all about her marriage to Prince Charles 25 years ago -- Kate had to turn the other cheek often after Meghan joined the family and she offered to help Meghan adjust to royal life from the start but Meghan rebuffed her and Kate in tired of Meghan painting her as the bad guy especially when it was Meghan’s antics that tore the family apart -- Kate also is upset that Harry and Meghan are portraying themselves as victims of a world that’s against them while she and William take on a phenomenal workload to cover the responsibilities the Sussexes left and losing precious time with their own three children and it’s hard not to be bitter but Kate is trying to take the high road and forgive Meghan and move forward

Page 26: With their marriage hanging by a thread Tori Spelling fears Dean McDermott will cheat on her again while filming a new TV show in Canada for six months; Tori wanted to bring their 5 children to Canada with him but Dean put her off saying it would be too distracting -- she’s been a jittery mess and he can’t stand to look at her and he only took this job because they need the money, Melanie Griffith is frustrated with Chris Martin and wants him to put a ring on her daughter Dakota Johnson’s finger -- the couple have been dating since 2017 and Melanie’s fed up with waiting for Chris to pop the question -- Melanie began to lose her patience after the couple reunited following a split last June when Chris won Dakota back with promises to settle down 

Page 28: COVID Vaccines: What you need to know

Page 32: Miley Cyrus claimed she once spotted a spaceship over Hollywood and even locked eyes with an alien but she also admits she’d bought weed wax from a guy in a van in front of a taco shop, whiny Kris Jenner is blaming social media for killing off Keeping Up with the Kardashians after it helped the reality TV clan make a mint

Page 34: Ozzy Osbourne is terrified a doll has cursed him -- Ozzy told son Jack Osbourne on their Osbournes Want to Believe show that Robert the doll was responsible for his recent bad luck and failing health, Tom Cruise and his Mission: Impossible 7 team caused chaos at an Italian hospital by filming there during the COVID-19 pandemic -- Tom and his crew including 100 security staffers plus trucks and other equipment descended on the Policlinico Umberto I in Rome for a week and legions of fans also flocked to the filming creating even more commotion in the streets outside the hospital and adding to the bedlam the production commandeered an elevator drawing criticism as hospital staff were treating 140 coronavirus patients with 12 in intensive care -- filming was done in an administrative section of the hospital but still sparked an official protest as well as complaints from trade union members

Page 36: Health Watch 

Page 38: Superhero screen pals of Chris Pratt rushed to rescue the actor’s reputation after he was mercilessly dragged into a silly social media meme when a Twitter user posted pictures of Chris Pratt and Chris Pine and Chris Hemsworth and Chris Evans captioned with the instruction one has to go but a flood of responses slammed Pratt as the worst Chris causing his Marvel co-stars to prop him up such as Zoe Saldana and Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner and Guardians of the Galaxy director James Gunn and Chris Pratt’s wife Katherine Schwarzenegger also bashed the social media bullies, Matthew McConaughey kept saying alright alright alright to making romantic comedies until the day he was so fed up he turned down $14.5 million to do another one -- Matthew revealed in his memoir that he didn’t mind making a string of mindless rom-coms because their paychecks rented the houses on the beach he ran shirtless on but he eventually wanted to try something else so he turned down a big payday so he could get more serious 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Drew Barrymore 

Page 47: Odd List

#tabloid #grain of salt #tabloid toc #tabloidtoc #duchess kate #kate middleton #princess kate #prince harry #meghan markle #prince william #catherine duchess of cambridge #ben affleck #katie holmes #emilio vitolo jr. #ryan seacrest #bill cosby #lizzo #ryan newman #ellen degeneres #lisa marie presley #chaka khan #ariana grande #robert redford #jeff bridges #scott peterson #zachery ty bryan #ryan reynolds #blake lively #sandra bullock #hoda kotb

[winetae]

:: modern loneliness

⇨ prompt : android!hoseok x reader. 2205 words. drabble with a possible follow-up. it’s been 38 days since you’ve last seen and interacted with a living, breathing person and you’re slowly going insane.

.

[Week 1 of lock down.]

At first, you’re optimistic. 

Working from home comes with its own set of non-negligeable perks. Notably, no more commute time! No more squeezing in between sweaty men on the subway during rush hour just to get home. The new arrangement means that you’re no longer obliged to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to blow-dry your hair or meticulously put on makeup while stuffing a bagel into your mouth because you’re short on time. 

On Day 1 of quarantine, you roll out of bed and don’t even bother to change out of your pajamas. It’s quite the sight. Not that you care whether or not your hair looks like a bird’s nest or if there’s a small hole in your shirt. You’d gladly take your flannel pants and old university sweatshirt with the coffee stain by the collar over the rigid pencil skirt and stupid obligatory heels they force you to wear to the office. Ironing? You don’t know her. 

That’s not to say there aren't any inconveniences but as of now, the pros outweigh the cons. For one, you’re now allowed to add as much sugar into your coffee without susciting your coworkers’ judgement. You can blast angry rap songs while finishing your reports and no one will stop you. The list goes on. 

With all this newfound time on your hands, you have no more valid reasons to procrastinate. You start off by cleaning out the kitchen cabinets you’d been meaning to re-organize for months. Then you rearrange your wardrobe, dust off the top shelves of your bookcase that you usually skip over because no one can see them, and water the potted plants you’d been neglecting. 

It feels great to be so productive. Your friends tell you via FaceConnect that your productivity streak won’t last long, but you’re quick to shake off their doubts. 

“I’m a new me!” You insist when Mia’s laughter echoes around your empty apartment. “My life is back on track. I feel like a proper adult now that I’m not struggling so much to get everything done.”

“Sure,” she humors you. “Just don’t get upset when I tell you I told you so.”

.

[Day 8 of lockdown.]

Now that your apartment is cleaner than it’s ever been, you need to find other means of entertainment. According to the internet, now is the ideal time to learn a new language or acquire a new hobby, like crocheting or playing the guitar. But while it might be technically possible to learn a language, you’re definitely not an overachiever. You’re aware of your own limits. 

Today you try your hand at baking. To some it might not seem like a big deal. But for someone like you who solely uses the kitchen to boil ramyeon packets and chop the occasional vegetable, today’s venture into the world of cooking is the equivalent of a quantum leap. 

The molten lava cakes that come out of the oven 15 minutes later don’t look like the picture advertised in the online recipe. They don’t taste like how you’d expected, either. 

You try not to be too disappointed with your failed attempt. After all, it’s only your first try. Dry cakes aren’t that bad in comparison to the horrors that could have occurred. At least nothing is burnt and your oven is still intact. You’ll try again tomorrow with hopefully a little more success.

.

[Day 16 of lockdown.]

It turns out that baking is not for you. After numerous trials and errors you learn a few days later that you have no vacation to be a baker. You end up abandoning all attempts to acquire a new hobby and instead look for new ways to pass the time. 

Thankfully, your home server is offering free VOD for a limited amount of time, so you’re not short on distractions. You consume around half a dozen cult movies, the kind people always reference and quote without actually watching, before you finally begin crossing TV series off your to-watch list. 

You yawn. It’s 9 PM on a Saturday night and you’ve just finished binging the entire season of Tiger King. It’s the third show you’ve watched from start to finish since quarantine began and now you’re wondering whether you should start a fourth. 

“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” you say before a grimace crosses your face. “Oh great... Now I’m talking to myself.” 

That can’t be a good sign, you think to yourself. How long has it been since you’ve last talked to someone? You used to call your parents every day but when there’s nothing new to report, the conversations become repetitive and dull. 

You should call Mia. Just to see how she’s doing.

.

[Day 24 of lockdown.] 

YOUR WEEKLY BASKET FROM FOODCONNECT HAS ARRIVED. ALL PURCHASES WILL BE ADDED TO YOUR MONTHLY EXPENSES CARD. REMINDER THAT DUE TO THE EXCEPTIONAL CIRCUMSTANCES, CONNECT CARDS ARE ALLOWED A 5000 EXCESS OVER FIXED LIMIT. TOTAL EXCESS HAS NOT YET BEEN REACHED.

.

[Day 38 of lockdown.] 

You’re browsing BH, hoping to restock your vitamins. Lately you’ve been feeling tired and mentally drained, despite your workload not being what it used to be. Why you’re so exhausted is a mystery you’ve yet to solve. In all logic, your energy level should be at an all time high now that you’re working less and spending all your free time lounging on the couch surfing the internet. 

According to the national health guideline, you’re supposed to be exercising an hour a day minimum in order for your body to remain in good condition. Your BODYCONNECT watch monitor beeps every hour to remind you that you haven’t completed the suggested activity. 

Ugh. 

You press the button on the side of the watch to turn the reminder off. It’s the fifth time you’ve had to silence it today but you can’t bring yourself to work up a sweat right this minute. You keep telling yourself that you’ll exercise later but like all things lately, later ends up being never. 

Come to think of it, this isn’t the first time you’ve caught yourself slacking off. Where did all your motivation during week 1 of lockdown go? You don’t even have the strength to do ten jumping jacks anymore; it’s like your bones belong to a person three times your age - feeble and brittle and threatening to break at a moment’s notice. 

LOW ON SEROTONIN? WE’VE GOT YOU COVERED. Flash promo over in 00:32:43! Limited offer while supplies last.

A bright yellow advertisement flashes on the top right corner of your screen. Intrigued, you follow the link without expecting much. The last thing you expect is to be brought directly to BH LAB’s homepage. 

“Um… I don’t think I have the budget for this…” You mutter under your breath and prepare to exit out of the page. 

Androids are usually employed by the government but the ones for sale to the general public are known to be exorbitantly expensive. 

A message reads: EXCLUSIVE 1 HOUR PROMO, 40% OFF YOUR FIRST PURCHASE. Click here for more details. Offer valid for new customers only. 

You pause and decide to click on the link. Looking around won’t hurt anyone, right? It’s not like you’ve decided to buy anything yet. 

The seven Dwellers available for sale are just as good looking as you expected them to be. Their unnaturally good looks and vibrant green eyes are what makes them easy to pick out from the crowd. 

You skim through each Dweller’s description. It seems that apart from the physical differences like their facial features and build, they each have their own specialty and characteristics. One of the best-selling models boasts the cooking ability of a 5-star chef, which you admit sounds very tempting since your skills with a knife are pathetic enough to make Gordon Ramsey cry. 

Another best-selling model specializes in...sex. You blink, your cheeks warming as you read over the model’s description (the “thick, vibrating cock that guarantees an orgasm every time!” comment makes you choke on your saliva). You can understand straight away why this particular model would be so popular. All of the models are pretty, but this one’s face doesn’t look like it’s from this world. Confinement would make anyone horny, and when promised a godly sex bot equipped with a vibrating dick, well…

Too bad you’re too tired these days to even think about having “mind-blowing sex for 5 hours straight.” Having such intense intercourse would probably make you pass out on the Dweller’s artificial cock, and there’s no way in hell you would want someone from CONNECT to intervene after receiving distressed signals from your body monitor. That would just be embarrassing. 

You’re about to exit out of the page, curiosity sated, when the last model catches your eye.

SEROTONIN BOOSTER. Low on energy? Feeling sad or depressed? Need a companion? 

This model is perfect for you! Model JHS is equipped with emotion sensors. They will fulfill your every need even when you’re not able to vocalize them. Stressed? They specialize in massages and are proficient in: Swedish massages, Aromatherapy, Shiatsu massages, Reflexology, among others. 

Personality : This model is energetic. They are very active and therefore requires a minimum 6 hours to recharge. They are extremely tactile and will easily engage in skinship such as hugs or holding hands. They are talkative and will hold passionate conversations with you about almost any subject. 

Likes : cleaning, working out

Dislikes : horror movies, strong smells

When reading the description, it feels they’re talking about a person rather than an android. You’re surprised to see that the Dwellers are programmed to have a certain personality that caters to specific needs because the only androids you’ve ever come across before are the government ones, and they’ve always been stoic and devoid of any distinguishing characteristic. 

It would be nice, you think, to have a companion. Someone you could talk to for real instead of through a pixelated hologram. As much as you enjoy your time alone, each passing day locked in your apartment makes you realize how much you long for a hug. You miss holding someone in your arms, feeling their heartbeat against your cheek and the rise and fall of their chest as they squeeze you back. 

Model JHS looks like he could fill that vacancy. Their smile is blinding, like they’re physically radiating sunshine through their expression alone. You don’t doubt their capacity to bring positive energy into your life. 

Before you can think twice about it you’re adding the model to your shopping cart. The site asks you if you want to pay more in order to customize them. For an additional fee, you’re able to tweak the Dweller’s personality or modify their physical attributes to your liking. You skip over the option. For one, you don’t have the funds to afford a vibrating dick enhancement and two, you’re more than satisfied with your Dweller as they are.

It’s not until you finish supplying all your information including your Connect Card details and shipping address that you realize what a monumental purchase you’re about to make and how empty your account will be by the end of it.

You stare at the price listed at the bottom of the screen and weigh your options. Even with the 40% reduction, it’s not a negligible sum. You could buy several models of the new Birkin bag you’d been saving up for with this money. 

Why purchase designer bags when you can’t even go out and use them? a voice argues. And - uh. Fair point. 

In any case, you’d have to stop shopping, eating out all the time and going on frivolous trips overseas. Not that you really have a choice, given the circumstances. 

You look at the laptop screen again. Are you seriously so touch-deprived that you’re willing to fork over that much money for a live-at-home android? Really? 

Fuck it. 

You click on [VALIDATE PAYMENT] before rationality has time to kick in and you change your mind again. Just as the screen changes and the new page loads, you feel your heart leap to your throat but it’s too late to back out now. 

PROCESSING ORDER …

...

CONGRATULATIONS! 

YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY ORDERED (1) DWELLER - JHS MODEL. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE. 

(!) Your order is eligible for Instant Shipping (delivered to your door in 24 hours or less). 

(!!) Due to exception circumstances, your order might encounter delays. We are taking multiple steps to ensure the safety and hygiene of all products and shipments. For more information click here.

(!) All BH products are covered by a limited two-year warranty. Please refer to warranty details regarding your product in the Dweller E-HandBook, free for download here. Please register your product after purchase in order to qualify for future claims, returns, and support.

You expel the breath you’d been holding. Your father will throw a fit once he finds out you’ve blown all your money on a bot. The criticism is warranted.

What are you even supposed to say to defend yourself? You’ve bought a  Dweller on a whim while browsing for Vitamin C supplements.

Quarantine is really making you lose your goddamn mind, huh.

#blurb.txt #idk what to think of this tbh so i guess i'm just testing the waters?? if it's not too weird i'll write the rest #i really hesitated btwn jimin and hoseok dflkdjf it was a hard decision #drabble named after that lauv song

[thotkumi]

leo sliding into takumi’s dm like,

#can i tag this leokumi or y'all have enough of me shitposting #buy my silence for $5000 a month i will stop #boi too awkward for this sliding into dm business

[nonbinarydave-archived]

Exclusionists who don't like being called out for when they're being jerks: buy my silence for $5000 a month subscription.

[prorevenge]

Oh so you want a gamer/japanese GF? Think again

I was stationed in Japan while serving in the U.S. Marines. I was loving and enjoying it and really absorbing the culture. I was single at the time, so one of my friends suggested I used Skout as it was a popular social media app at the time over there.

​

Within a few days I met a Japanese girl and we began talking. Eventually she agreed to meet and everything was good. We were together for 3 years, but on a long distance relationship. I lived in Okinawa, she lived in Osaka (pretty far, and have to take an airplane to travel). We talked all the time, played Final Fantasy 14 (she was a huge gamer which I really liked) and atleast once or twice a month we would visit, either I flew there or she flew to me.

​

We eventually got married as I was getting out of the military, and I had a few months before she was going to move in so I rented out an apartment bought some stuff, etc. She moved in and for about the first 2 weeks is was good. And then it was bad...

​

I worked 2 jobs (retail store and a night club), so she didn't have to work. She bought a car though and began working. She worked for a total of 2 weeks before quitting because work was too stressful. She even took it as far to ask me for money to fly to Osaka to visit her parents because being out without them was too stressful. Often times I would return home from my 18 hour work day at around 6AM to grab a few hours of sleep before starting all over again. She began to get really agitated that I would come home so early and wake her up, so she asked me to sleep in our spare room. (Total cuck right?) Day after day she would just sit around the house and complain while I was there that I needed to buy her stuff while the house was trashed and she only played video games and spoke with friends on the phone. She had money, a car yet refused to go do anything on her own.

​

Due to the pinch on money, I rarely ate, maybe once a day, never went out, never seen friends as I was so concerned with the money situation. Eventually after a year of doing this I couldn't take it anymore, I walked up to her and asked if she loved me, she said I don't know. So I told her I wanted a divorce, as this is not going to work out and the only words she could muster up was 'Can you pay off the rest of my car?'. I was dumbfounded. Later that night a friend of hers contacted me asking me if there was something going on with our relationship and I told her to talk to my wife as they were always on the phone. Thats when shit got real, as her friend stated she had no idea what I was talking about and she hasn't spoken to her in months.

​

So I spill every detail out to her and she informs me on why her and my wife don't talk anymore, because my wife had a boyfriend in her hometown of Osaka while we were dating and thought she had left him. Apparently she had not. Her friends had spoken and they told me that she had been cheating on me this entire time, and told me the little trip she took to see her family, was indeed just to see her boyfriend.

​

Immediately I packed all my belongings, signed the divorce papers, took pictures of the house and paper then started to leave where she began to ask "where are you going? when are you coming back? Can you bring me sukiya?" (Sukiya is a type of rice bowl fastfood in Japan). I moved out immediately and was staying in my car (enough room, its a Funcargo, its like a Japanese box car - pretty spaceful!). Couple of weeks went by and I had moved into one of my friends apartments. She messaged me saying she is returning to Osaka to be with her family and she needed help moving. I told her fuck no, she can do it herself. She sold her car, packed her stuff and shipped it (the post office was ACROSS the street yet she was asking for help to take it there???). Finally it came down to the apartment where she asked me to pay for it, and a lightbulb went into my head - I said "sure I will pay for it don't worry about it!". Finally she asked me to take her to the airport on my day off, where I told her I am not a taxi service, but I will take her there for 5000 yen (roughly $50). She was all butt hurt and tried to play the 'Well we are still married!' card, but I wasn't budging.

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Finally I took her to the airport, she paid me then tried to tell me good bye, I reached acrossed the car closed the door and in silence pulled away. Now here comes the good shit! The housing company was calling her regarding the final payment on the house ($1200 for 2 months behind, $800 for early cancelation, $400 for 2 months behind utilities, than there was like another $200 in additional fees plus another $300 in apartment damages (I was bringing in the washing machine and punched a nasty hole in the wall, scrapping from carrying the sofa in on my own, etc.) and she was asking when I could pay it all as they needed it before the end of the month. I just laughed and told her I am not paying a single cent as I was not on any of the paperwork. She hung up immediately. (When we rented the home, she signed for it and instead of putting me as a cosigner, she put her father). I was 100% scott-free from any of this.

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Eventually her father e-mailed me and told me he was going to get lawyer to sue me for abandoning his poor daughter and refusing to pay the fees. Thats when I checkmated her ass, as I was unaware that her father didn't know why we split up. I told him about his daughter being a slop, cranky bitch who was taking my money and cheating on me. If he really wanted to lawyer up that was on him, as I really liked the guy, and informed him I was not on any of the lease agreements, sent him all the images I took of the house and screenshots from her friends, and informed him of his wife cheating on me gave me grounds to SUE her (Adultry is REALLY illegal in Japan and lawsuits are very common for it). After seeing it he had no idea what we were splitting for and apologized for everything, THEN OFFERED TO BUY ME A BEER ANYTIME I VISIT OSAKA.

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She ended up getting fucked out of a bunch of money, her parents hate her (shes an only child and the whole 'dishonored family' thing is a real thing in Japan), and I got away completely free of it.

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One month later I got a manager position, quit my other job and began using my GI bill school money, was making 3x what I was earning previously and was feeling pretty good. To this day I always look back and laugh at that situation. Be careful with those gamer girls gents, and don't assume just because a woman is Japanese that she won't be a piece of shit.

(source) story by (/u/kimset)

#prorevenge #by /u/kimset #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10