#but then it just reminded me how my old coworkers used to try and talk to me during my break like i wasn't dealing with noise for two hours

[yanguazalie]

L'il bro trying to humor Big bro during his community service sentence (or whatever you wanna call it). Someone's cranky. But his tea water is still heating so he can't relax anyway :T

"I found these shiny shorts in the 'discontinued' pile in the shed. I don't see why, they definitely brighten MY day! Hahahe... Lou don't I look ridiculous-"

"You look STUPID."

*sad rabbit noises*

#uglydolls #uglydolls lou #uglydolls ox #i was drawing lou to depict his moodiness toward his situation #but then it just reminded me how my old coworkers used to try and talk to me during my break like i wasn't dealing with noise for two hours

[roosterforme]

The Adventures of Dr. Tits | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Jake gives you the world's most obnoxious nickname. Bradley has an identity crisis. And you're the one making sure everybody gets home safely on New Year's Eve.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, suggestive language, drinking, beer pong

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist for the reading order

Bradley walked into the bedroom and froze as you were putting on your favorite pair of earrings. "What's wrong?" you asked, shaking your head at him. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You look fucking hot."

"Oh," you said with a smirk.

"This is a new dress," he rasped, running his fingers along the black fabric at your shoulder. "I really like it."

You kissed his cheek and whispered. "I knew you would, Beer Boy. It has a very low neckline."

He scoffed, "That's not the only reason I like it." But his eyes hadn't strayed from your chest for nearly thirty seconds. When his gaze finally met yours, he added, "My wife looks beautiful in everything."

"We're not married yet," you reminded him as his hand skimmed down your arm to your left hand and your engagement ring. 

"Only because you didn't want to get married the day after I proposed."

"We were standing in a Denny's parking lot!"

He just shrugged and laced his fingers with yours. "Sounds perfect to me. As long as it's us."

"A Denny's parking lot," you emphasized, and you could tell he was trying not to smile at your look of indignation.

"Nothing's too good for my girl," he replied, barely concealing his laughter. 

"Incredible," you muttered as you tugged him closer for another kiss. "You can take the Beer Boy out of the fraternity..."

He followed along, fingers linked with yours, as you led him into the dining room so you could finish setting up. "Wait, wait, it's like mistletoe. We have to kiss when we stand here," he said, leaning down to kiss you hard and proper in front of the doors that said SUGAR WILL YOU MARRY ME?

"Like mistletoe? I can't believe how sweet you are," you whispered as his lips trailed down to your neck.

"Let's call everyone and cancel." His tone was coaxing and his lips felt amazing.

"No," you moaned softly. "It's your Top Gun holiday party. And it's New Year's Eve."

When his mustache grazed the top of your chest as he said, "I'd rather tell everyone else to beat it so I can fuck my fiancée," you almost caved. But you promised everyone months ago, when you first moved to San Diego, that you and Bradley would host the annual party. There was a running joke that they got so wild one year, they almost got kicked out of a restaurant. But there was no way that was true. 

"We have to host. I promised."

"This better be low key. Seriously, I just want a nice, quiet night in," he grumbled.

You laughed while he acted like he was being tortured as he helped you carry the pretty punch bowl and crystal glasses you found at a thrift store into the dining room. "Everyone will be gone right after the stroke of midnight," you promised him. "And I thought you liked your coworkers?" 

He grunted and shrugged. "No, I like Nat. Bob's okay. Jake's annoying. The rest of the guys are fine."

"Oh my god," you whispered in awe, wrapping him up in a hug. "You love me the most, and I'm the only person you're not cranky for, Beer Boy." 

He chuckled and pressed his lips to your temple. "You're just catching onto this now? Ten years away from you has made it so that I want to be with you all the time."

Okay, well now you were thinking about canceling after all. If he was going to be extra sweet like this, you wanted him all to yourself as well. But then you heard someone knocking on the front door. Before you let Bradley go, you said, "If you're well behaved tonight, we can talk about wedding plans tomorrow."

He perked right up. "I'll be so good."

"But it's still a firm no to the Denny's parking lot." 

When you let Nat inside, she gave you a hug and said, "Hey, nice tits," before carrying a bottle of champagne to Bradley. At least now he had his friend to talk to. And you really didn't think your dress was that low cut...

After another knock, you let Bob in, and as soon as he looked at you, he was blushing profusely and stuttering. "Welcome, Bob," you said, really starting to regret wearing this dress in front of anyone except Bradley. When you leaned out onto the porth, the neighborhood was all lit up with twinkle lights. This was your first December outside of Virginia or Chicago, and it was still fairly warm outside. As you propped the door open for the others, you didn't think you'd ever get used to this kind of luxury. You had warm weather and the love of your life.

Soon Javy, Mickey and Reuben arrived with three identical smiles as they looked at you and gave you lingering hugs. "Okay, yep, that's enough," you said as Mickey squeezed you extra tight.

"Hey, Baby! Sugar!" Bradley was calling from the kitchen as you followed the guys in. "Oh, there you are. Do we have any solo cups and ping pong balls? And didn't I buy a case of PBR?"

You just looked at him like he'd lost it. It was New Year's Eve, and you were in your new dress. You even made sure he actually looked nice tonight instead of wearing one of his ratty old tee shirts. You had champagne, and he made crab dip and mini quiches to serve everyone. 

"Maybe in the hall closet? And I'm pretty sure I talked you out of the case of Pabst Blue Ribbon," you said with a frown. "That's cheap fraternity beer, Bradley. We have actual incomes now. Only good beers all the time."

"That's okay," he told you with a quick kiss as he headed for the hall closet. "We can just play with the champagne!"

"What?" you asked, ready to follow him, but the guys had turned up the music. When you looked in the dining room Nat was moving your punch bowl to the floor in the corner, and Reuben was carrying four glasses precariously stacked up in each hand. "What's going on?"

"Rooster said he's a beer pong master," Javy said, before shoving three mini quiches into his mouth at one time. 

Reuben was laughing. "He said he used to party at his fraternity house, but we don't believe him. Not Rooster."

"No," Mickey added. "Rooster always follows the rules. Never breaks them. And he never gets drunk."

"We're playing fucking pong," Bradley said when he returned wearing a backwards cap and holding red solo cups and a pack of ping pong balls. Everyone cheered. "They don't believe I'm a ringer, Sugar," he whispered just to you. "I'm about to fucking smoke their asses."

"Don't get too drunk," you said as Nat took the solo cups and squatted down to fill them using the punch you made with extremely expensive champagne. "Oh god."

"Happy New Year," drawled a voice behind you, and you spun to see Jake holding two more bottles of champagne. His gaze dipped quickly down to your cleavage before returning innocently to your face. He shook his head and said, "You know, sometimes I think Bradshaw might be onto something here."

"I'm never wearing this dress again," you muttered as he handed you both bottles with a huge grin on his face. 

"Now where's everyone else?"

Just then, loud cheering erupted from the dining room, and you walked through the doorway to find Bradley and Javy playing against Bob and Mickey. Nat changed your playlist to one that sounded like it belonged at an actual frat party, and Reuben was scooping one of your crystal glasses into the crab dip and eating it with a spoon. 

"What the fuck?" you gasped. It was like you were back at the Beta Gamma house ten years ago as Bradley took his nice shirt off and tossed it onto the doorknob of the door that said MARRY.

"I'm about to kick your ass, and the dining room table isn't even regulation size," Bradley told Mickey as the WSO missed a shot. "Sugar, we need to look for a table that's regulation dimensions, okay Baby?" he shouted over P.I.M.P. by 50 Cent. He just kept sinking shot after shot into the cups, and Bob was already looking drunk.

So maybe they all really did almost get kicked out of that restaurant before? 

Jake was unbuttoning his shirt as well now as he said, "I have next game. There's no way Bradshaw can get this lucky all night long."

Bradley smirked and laughed as he looked at you. "I can, and I do, Hangman. Don't act like you haven't seen Sugar before."

Jake laughed, and the other guys cheered. You cradled your forehead in your hands as Bradley wolf whistled at you. "Jesus," you muttered, trying to decide if it was a good idea for you to get drunk yourself or if you needed to babysit the whole group.

"Why isn't your wife playing with you?" Nat shouted, and you contemplated closing the front door before your neighbors complained about the noise.

"We're not married yet!" you replied, but Bradley had his arms wrapped around you immediately. 

"Sorry, Baby. I got excited and just grabbed Javy. You know what they say about old habits, and I haven't played beer bong in years. You're my partner next, okay? Your boobs will help distract the opponents."

You gave in and started laughing, because this whole thing was ridiculous. You let Reuben serve you some crab dip in a crystal glass, and you ate it while everyone around you got progressively drunker on your champagne punch. 

Once Bradley and Javy handily won the matchup, he kicked Javy to the other side of the table to team up with Jake who was now completely shirtless. "You're up, Baby," Bradley said, reaching for you with so much excitement. "We're going to kick ass like we used to." His lips tasted faintly of champagne when he kissed you, and you were surprised. He was so good at this game, he rarely had to drink anything. 

"Winning team goes first," Jake said, rolling the balls across the table to you as Nat set freshly filled cups in front of you. Bradley arranged the cups perfectly like this was actually his profession instead of aviation. And you just stood there and laughed as he stepped behind you and helped you square your hips.

"Okay, now, you need to be awesome, Sugar. Just like college. Because I've got like street cred on the line here."

"I got you, Beer Boy," you promised him and he moaned softly in your ear.

"Remember, it's all just a math problem, and you're so fucking good at math." He released you with a little pat on your butt, and then he was peeling his sweaty undershirt off and tossing it aside before fixing his hat. As soon as you were able to stop laughing, you tossed the first ball with a perfect arc, and everyone in the room watched it splash into the solo cup right in front of Jake while Bradley whooped. 

"What did they teach you people in Virginia?" Jake asked, looking at you like he was thoroughly impressed. And then you watched Bradley toss his ball into one of the cups, and Javy groaned as he and Jake picked up their cups and drank. 

"Roll those balls back over here, boys. We made both of our shots, so we go again," Bradley said before he kissed you hard in front of his friends. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to marry you in that Denny's parking lot tomorrow?"

You were laughing as Nat, Reuben, Mickey and Bob all lined up on your side of the table to cheer you on with the crab dip. "Kick their asses! Jake and Javy are good at everything!" Nat shouted over Big Pimpin' by JAY-Z. You did a little dance and then tossed your ball directly into another cup.

"It's just math!" you said with a smile.

"It's math!" Bradley reiterated to Javy and Jake. "And I feel bad for the two of you, because she's a mathematician." Then he made his second toss, too. "And I lived in a fraternity house for three years."

Jake and Javy looked miserable as you chanted, "Chug, chug, chug!" until they emptied their cups. Then you made another absolutely beautiful throw, and Bradley didn't let you down. In fact, the two of you made every single cup, and Javy and Jake didn't even get a chance to throw a single ball.

"House rules! You drink our cups, too!" Bradley informed them, gesturing to the untouched solo cups lined up at your end of the table. 

"Get to it boys," you said as the others cheered. 

Bradley was all over you again as Javy coughed and sputtered as he tried to chug champagne. "I swear to god, Sugar, if we weren't already engaged, I'd propose right now," Bradley told you as you adjusted the cap on his head and ran your fingers through his curls that stuck out from beneath it. 

"I'd say yes again," you whispered just for him. "Who's ready to get their asses kicked next?" you asked everyone. 

You and Bradley cleaned up so handily, the two of you were barely buzzed, but everyone else was hammered by midnight. The front door was still wide open, and the TV was on as you waited for the countdown to the new year. Bradley popped a bottle of champagne just for you and he to sip as Nat sat on the floor right in front of the TV with the punch bowl on her lap. Most of the guys were lined up on the couches, but Jake came right over to you when he stumbled out of the bathroom. 

"I need to know how you did it," he slurred to Bradley as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pointed at your chest. "How did you manage to get Dr. Tits here? She's exquisite."

You sputtered as you laughed. "Did you just call me Dr. Tits?"

Jake leaned in close to your ear and laughed. "I'm sorry, but I can't even remember my own name right now, darlin'."

"Okay, Hangman," Bradley said as he handed you the bottle of champagne and pulled Jake off of you. "Clearly she has a thing for fuckboys. You can look, because she's smoking hot and it would be impossible not to, but you don't get to touch."

Well, you couldn't deny that. Jake winked at you as he sat down next to Nat before laying on the floor. Bob had the hiccups, Javy was asleep, Reuben was still eating the crab dip, and Mickey was running to the bathroom to throw up as the clock struck midnight. "I love you," Bradley promised before he kissed you sweetly. "And I think we should spend the day tomorrow laying on the couch and talking about getting married. What do you say, Dr. Tits?"

You pressed your lips together and then said, "Only Jake is allowed to call me that," as you erupted into laughter at the scandalized look on Bradley's face.

You kissed his cheek as he said, "I swear, just for that, it's Denny's or nothing, Sugar."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," you replied laughing as you looked at the sloppy mess of Bradley's coworkers on all of your living room surfaces. "Now help me get all of them in Ubers so you can help me out of my dress."

"Oh, hell yes," he replied as he started clapping loudly. "Wake up guys. Rides are coming. Time for you to go so I can get lucky."

The two of you herded everyone outside and into the two cars when they showed up. "Night, Dr. Tits," Jake announced loudly to your entire quiet street as he kissed your cheek before Bradley shoved him into the waiting SUV. 

"Dr. Tits..." Reuben said with a laugh. "Sounds like a superhero who is very good at beer pong."

"She is a superhero. She puts up with Rooster's shit," Nat said as she climbed in behind Jake. 

"I think my sister went to Comic Con as Dr. Tits one year," Mickey said deliriously as Bradley helped him with his seatbelt. "The many adventures of Dr. Tits. She's my favorite Avenger."

Javy was already asleep on Bob as the cars pulled away, and Bradley scooped you up on the driveway and carried you back toward the porch. "You wanna go on an adventure with me, Sugar?"

You took his hat off and put it on your own head. "Are you talking about undressing me or marrying me right now?"

"Both," he replied easily as he kicked the front door closed behind you.

"Then yes."

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

Beer Boy and Sugar warm my cold, dead heart. Fuckboy Jake, drunk on champagne, also warms my heart. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@backinwonderl4nd

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@pieceuvmind

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme

[babyshoesnerdshit]

night shift

CW cursing, child neglect, sexual harassment, misgendering, drunk person (although not very well written lol), general violence, slight infantilization

idk i wanted to try my hand at writing some shitty platonic yandere batfam x transmasc reader (its self indulgence bby)

Hunger pained (y/n)'s stomach. Stupid cheapskate convenience store didn't give employee discounts though so he had to wait until he got home to eat anything, if there was even anything to eat that wasn't spoiled. (y/n) would have just stolen something to eat from the store (he didn't give a shit about their profit) but the security camera mocking him in the corner kept him from it. And with his phone almost dead (y/n) had nothing to do but stair at the wall and listen to the shitty radio station the store played.

(y/n) hated the night shift, it almost guarantied he would have to deal with more crackheads and drunks than his coworkers. Regardless of his feelings about the night shift it paid the most (even though that was still barely minimum wage), and he really needed the money. Even though (y/n) still lived with his mother (and technically father but he was hardy ever around), his parents had stopped taking care of him a long time ago. So (y/n) was the one to take care of himself. Sometimes he had to take care of his mother too, reminding her to eat or sleep. The bells on the door jangled, shaking (y/n) from his train of thought. Ah yes, the other type of Gotham crazies. Vigilantes.

"Hey kid."

"I'm not a kid." for some reason the batclan had decided that the 5th avenue convenience store was the best place for mid-patrol snacks.

"Ah yes, the old and wise 18 year old. My bad." Red Hood had a thick layer of sarcasm in his mechanical voice. (y/n) couldn't see his face from behind his helmet but was entirely sure he had the stupidest smirk underneath. (y/n) simply rolled his eyes (fighting back a smile) as hood moved about the store grabbing a random assortment of food and drinks. As hood was filling his arms the bell sounded again, this time it was a middle-aged man. (y/n) could smell the alcohol on him from the register. The man looked around, stopping as he saw (y/n).

"Welll helllooo~" the man had started leaning on the counter of the register. "Yoou're a fine slut, i could show you a reeall goOod time~" He smelled even worse up close. (y/n) sent a panicked glance over to Red Hood who had dropped his things and was now walking aggressively towards the man. "Wha you ignorin me BITCH!" the man lifted his arm to strike. (y/n) flinched, lifting his arms to cover his face.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Hood's voice was dark and low. His grip on the man's arm was painful if the man's face was any indicator.

"H-hey Mr. Red Hood. me and the lil' lady were just havin a niice talk." The man had lost any confidences and aggression he once had in fount of the crime lord. "She wuz jus bein a bitch, you understaannd right?" he sniveled. A sickening crunch was heard from the mans arm where Red Hood's grip tightened. The man started convulsing with pain and screaming. (y/n) felt sick.

"I'm going to deal with this trash. I'll be right back." Hood dragged the man out of the store, bells jingling behind him. It was moments like this where (y/n) remembered just how dangerous Red Hood actually was. Living in Gotham, (y/n) had gotten unfortunately used to getting catcalled and harassed, but he could never stop the shaking of his hands and the sinking feeling in his stomach that came with it.

Moments later the bells sounded again, (y/n) couldn't help but jump slightly. It was Red Hood.

"Sorry about that kid." hood picked up the food he had dropped earlier and set it on the counter.

"Ah, it's ok." (y/n) hated how small he sounded. Taking a breath he started to scan the things hood had picked out and tried to steady himself. "It's Gotham, shit like that happens all the time."

"That doesn't make it ok." Hood sounded softer than before. (y/n) felt anger crawl up his throat, the bats always treated him like a kid. Even Robin! And he was, like, 12!

"That'll be $29.47, you want a bag?" (y/n) tried not to show his anger. As upset as he might have been, Hood did just save him from an icky situation.

"Nah." Hood picked up half of what he bought with one arm as he flipped a 50 onto the counter. "Keep the change." He started to leave.

"Hood, you're forgetting half your shit." He had left a large banana nut muffin, a pack of gummy sharks, a chocolate milk, and a packet of pizza flavored combos.

"They're for you kid, you look starving." He was out the door before (y/n) could protest.

(y/n) sighed with a light smile, well at least he wouldn't be hungry for the rest of his shift.

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

Jason was fucking livid. This god damn BASTARD! Who the fuck did he think he was, harassing his little brother. Raising his FILTHY had at him. Jason was seething.

"RR" Jason turned his comm on.

"Jonathan Davis, 54, 237 Maple Street, apartment 122, married to Eliza Davis, daughter is Maria Davis, place of work 57 West End Road." Tim already knew, he was watching it from the security camera back at the cave.

"I only spared him so that you could make his life something worse than death." Jason staired down at the beaten and bruised body of the man.

"Don't worry. It will be." Tim's voice was cold and calculated. No doubt already planning all the ways this man would watch his life fall apart.

Jason leaned down to the barely conscious man, "If you DARE go fucking near him again, I'll leave your head for your wife and daughter to find in your fridge." the man simply looked at him with fear. Jason grabs him by the scalp, "Do you understand?" his tone was dark, made even more intimidating by the mechanical modulator.

"Y-yes! I understand! I understand!" the man cried.

"Good." Jason shoved his head back into the filthy ground of the alleyway. 'right where trash belongs' Jason thought to himself.

#please be nice to me #this is the the first fanfic i've ever written #well published #but still #batfam #batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere #transmasc reader #yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere red hood #yandere red hood x reader #platonic yandere red hood #platonic yandere red hood x reader #yandere jason todd #platonic yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #platonic yandere jason todd x reader #yandere red robin #platonic yandere red robin #yandere tim drake #platonic yandere tim drake #yandere red robin x reader #yandere tim drake x reader

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Fall In Love With A Girl

❝she'll make you feel like the world is on your shoulder.❞

Summary: What can go wrong, will go wrong. That is until you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen and her brother's puppy.

Pairing: Modern Helaena Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. I felt like this would be the perfect time to remind everyone that I love women.

Warnings: language, fluff, women loving women (if you are against this unfollow me?)

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always; you’ll never get used to those abuse cases or having to hold someone’s hand as they say goodbye to their beloved pet. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because both dogs and cats shed a lot! Especially Bella the Saint Bernard who was due for her yearly check up today. Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because it’s more likely than not that you’ll end up getting peed on by someone’s over-excited pup.

Even though you knew these rules by heart and you followed them every single day of your work life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell, Hankie, peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara. So, when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing hoping to find some cat food.

Today just wasn’t your day.

It was fifteen minutes until closing time, and you could feel the excitement and exhaustion in your bones. You were desperate for rest, to go home and take a shower, crawl in bed and watch terribly written romantic comedies on Netflix until you passed out. If only you could snap your fingers and make those last few minutes fly by, but that was impossible and unfortunately manipulating time wasn’t a superpower you had acquired yet, so instead you swept and mopped the floors for the sixth time that day.

And that was when you heard it. 

The tiny bell over the door chimed, signaling that a customer had just walked in and you could hear the pitter-patter of doggie feet on the linoleum floors. As far as you knew, there weren’t any more customers scheduled for the day; the last appointment was over thirty minutes ago and they were a no-show. From your spot in the back hallway, you could hear your coworker, talking to the patient and before you knew it, she was charging through the back door. You took one look at her, knowing what her question would be before she even opened her mouth. That shit-eating-grin was always plastered on her face when she wanted something. 

“No,” you said as you swept the dirt into the dustpan.

“Come on, bestie,” she whined. “I really need to get out of here on time tonight! It’s just a simple check-up and she seems really nice! Please will you take them?” 

Not wanting to argue or cause an issue, you sighed, exhaling every ounce of oxygen in your lungs before finally giving in. She was practically beaming with excitement as your shoulders slumped, eyes rolling back as you sat the broom down. 

“Oh, my God! Thank you so much! I owe you, big time,” she went to hug you but you stepped to the side, avoiding her embrace at all costs. 

You simply nod at your coworker as you try to dust some of the cat hairs from your scrubs. It was no use, and you knew that, but still, you at least tried to look more professional. After the day you’ve had, you should have known that clocking out on time was just too good to be true, but you still put a smile on your face as you walked up to the front desk. One day you’d cash in on all of the times she owed you for, but today wasn’t that day. Everything that could have gone wrong today had already gone wrong, and at this point you were only giving in to her for the plot. What else could possibly happen? 

When you got to the front desk, you looked over the counter to see the customer on one knee as she played with the tiny puppy; rubbing its belly and tickling its sides. 

“How can I help you?” You asked with that fake customer service voice.

The young woman turned around and looked up at you, flashing one of the most brilliant smiles you had ever seen, and you could have sworn that a chorus of angels were singing in the background– or maybe it was just the classical music on the radio that your boss liked to play, who knows? She was absolutely stunning though, with her pale blonde hair and striking lavender eyes. 

“Hey, uh- I had an appointment for this little guy,” she replied with a soft smile as she moved to stand.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying to remember to breathe. You could smell her perfume as she took a step up to the counter. “What’s this little guy’s name?” 

“His name is Sunfyre.”

“Oh,” you realized that this was that no-show appointment that should have been here thirty minutes ago. It was then that you looked right past her good looks and lilac scented perfume and let the irritation settle back in. “You’re Mr. Targaryen? You had an appointment with us at 5:00.”

The woman rubbed a hand on the back of her neck and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Not Mr. Targaryen, that’s my brother. I’m Helaena,” then she lets out a sigh. “He’s out of town and forgot to mention that I needed to be here until ten minutes before I was supposed to be here and then there was traffic, and I’m really sorry that I’m late. I hope I can still get him in, I mean, if that’s okay. If it’s too late then I’ll just make another appointment, I guess”

Your eyes widened as she rambled on and then you smiled at her. If it were anyone else, you probably would have told them to make another appointment and kick rocks. But this girl was just so gorgeous and her smile was just so beautiful, and your hopes of getting home on time were already sacked, so you led her back to the exam room and told her that it was no problem.

“Hopefully this doesn’t take too long,” she mentioned as she picked Sunfyre up and sat him on the table. 

Wait, was she actually rushing you?

“I’ve got this stupid thing I’m supposed to go to tonight,” she continued as you checked the puppy’s weight.

She really was rushing you.

“It’s a blind date that Aegon, uh-”

Before she could say ‘Mr. Targaryen’, you nodded your head to let her know that you understood who she was talking about. 

“Yeah,” Helaena kept on, not really caring that you weren’t really listening. “He set it up and I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been on a date- well, I’ve been on dates, but never a blind one. With the way this day has been going, he’ll probably end up being an alien with six eyes.”

“I know how you feel,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Oh, I just agreed with you,” you replied, not really wanting to go into details about your day with a girl who was about to go on a blind date and probably fall in love with someone that wasn’t the vet tech with a piss stain on her leg. Besides, her blind date was with a man which meant your chances were pretty much shot. “About the way this day has been going.”

“You’ve had a bad day, too?”

“I’m going to let Dr. Strong know you’re ready and we’ll try to get you out of here as soon as possible,” you say, ignoring her question. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she replied as you shuffled out of the exam room.

Your boss looked up at you from his desk and raised his eyebrows underneath his glasses. You said nothing and only dropped the puppy’s chart on his desk with a thud, before turning back around and heading into the back hallway. You could hear that Helaena girl sweet talking the pup from behind the door and your expression softened for a moment. But that was only until you glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past closing time, and you should’ve been walking through your front door right now; maneuvering out of your bra and kicking off your non-slip, worn out tennis shoes. Your frown came right back as you looked over the front desk, making sure everything was in order before your boss eventually called you in for an extra hand. 

You sighed as you saw that your coworker had bailed on stamping the outgoing bill statements, a job which was tedious and tiring, and usually ended in cramped hands and sticky fingertips. With a soft groan, you sat down, flexing your toes in your shoes and tried to quickly stamp as many envelopes as you could.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dr. Strong called from somewhere within the office. “Can you lend me a hand for a moment?”

You stood up and tossed the envelopes in the mailing bin before heading towards the back hallway. 

“What’s up, doc?” You asked with a forced grin as you tried to lighten the mood. Your boss, Harwin, had been under constant stress ever since his partner veterinarian, Dr. Tully, quit the practice to focus on his family. 

“Can you draw me up 1cc of Nobivac?” He asked as he scribbled something down in the chart in front of him. “And I’m going to need you in the room when I administer it, there’s a note in the little guy’s chart that says he’s not very good with shots.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied as you pulled the keys to the medical cabinet out of the front pocket of your scrubs.

Helaena smiled at you when you entered the exam room once again. The puppy in her hands jumped in your direction, tail wagging from side to side as he whined for attention. “I think he likes you,” the girl commented as she tried to hold the puppy back. 

“That’s nice,” you replied with a soft smile, not really wanting to make small talk with Ms. I-Have-A-Blind-Date-Can-You-Hurry-Up. “But he’s probably not going to like me very much after getting poked.”

“Probably not,” Helaena laughed. You couldn’t help but feel a little light-headed at the sight of her smile, despite your tough facade. The sound of her laugh was just as attractive, if not more so. “But who knows, maybe he’ll forgive you.”

Dr. Strong stepped into the room, cutting your conversation short to begin his own spiel; informing Sunfyre’s short term owner of the possible side effects of the rabies vaccine, and also why it is important to have one. Information that, hopefully, Helaena would pass on to the absent Mr. Targaryen.

While your boss prepped the puppy for his first rabies shot, your job was to try and distract the little guy as much as possible and to keep him comfortable, of course. Helaena stood off to the side, letting the two of you work your magic, and within seconds- without even so much as a yelp- the procedure was finished and Sunfyre’s tail was still wagging. 

“All done,” you cooed, placing a kiss on the puppy’s wet nose. 

“Looks like he still likes you,” Helaena said as she hooked Sunfyre’s leash back to his collar. “I had a feeling he would.”

You went to say something, but Dr. Strong got there first, sticking his hand out to Helaena for a handshake and saying, “It was nice to meet you. Please tell Mr. Targaryan that we look forward to seeing him at the next visit, which you can coordinate at the front desk.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“You can follow me, this way,” you told her, ushering her and Sunfyre out of the exam room and into the lobby. “That’ll be $115,” you told her after tallying up the total sum of the visit. 

She let out a low whistle and pulled her wallet from her back pocket, “is there any way to leave a tip for your excellent customer service?”

You let out a dry laugh, and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something that would get you in trouble. “While I appreciate the offer, you should probably save it for your date tonight.” 

“Date?” She asked as she signed the credit card receipt. “Shit, right, my date!” She exclaimed, thrusting the tiny piece of paper your way. “I gotta go!”

You made a face and hurriedly handed her a copy of the bill and a rabies tag for Sunfyre. 

“Good luck,” you told her as she rushed out the front door. “And you're welcome,” you said with a frown after she didn’t even say ‘thank you’. 

Happy that your day was finally over, you couldn’t help but feel like you had just been kicked in the gut. As you finished stamping the monthly statements, your mind was stuck on what Helaena and her blind date– who may or may not be an alien with six eyes– were doing right now. Was he smart? Was he making her laugh? Did he appreciate how absolutely breathtaking her smile was? Did she see him and immediately know that he was the one she had been searching for? Did time stop?

“Hey,” you heard Dr. Strong’s voice from behind you and realized that you had been standing in the same spot for minutes now, holding a stack of envelopes that you had meant to drop into the bin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied as you came back to reality.

“Don’t forget you’re fostering Nugget tonight to make sure that he doesn’t pull out his stitches,” he told you before disappearing back into the hallway. 

“Ah, yes, Nugget,” you replied, mostly to yourself, as you were sure your boss was out of earshot. “The overweight Chihuahua who looks like he ate one, too many nuggets. I couldn’t be more excited.”

After you locked up and had Nugget on a leash, you said your goodbyes to your boss; happy as ever that- even though it was well after dark- you were finally going home. You picked the chunky Chihuahua up, making sure not to touch his freshly removed manhood and placed him in the backseat, where he quickly made a home. Before you even pulled your seatbelt on, you pulled your hair out of its ponytail and ran your fingers over your tender scalp. It was the first step to comfort after what you were sure was the worst days you might have ever had. You’d take your shoes off if you could,, but you were sure there was some crazy law about driving barefoot, so you left them on.

Nugget stayed quiet for most of the way, until he unexpectedly started to whine. Thinking that he might need to go potty, you pulled over into the parking lot of an ice cream parlor. He hopped out of your backseat gingerly, and led you over to the grassy area where he proceeded to squat and relieve himself. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” you heard from across the parking lot and turned to see none other than Mrs. Blind Date herself, Helaena. Just when you thought this day was starting to get better, she began walking toward you with Sunfyre in tow.

“Oh, hi,” you replied, cautiously looking around for the hot shot that would inevitably be introduced as her date. You didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the best of you and, “how was your date?”

“Well, I was supposed to meet him here and he never showed,” she replied, looking a bit dejected. “I’m honestly not surprised at all. I mean, if you knew my brother, you probably wouldn’t be surprised either. Besides, what else should one expect from a man?” You laughed at that. “I was just about to leave, but then I saw you, and figured I’d say hello.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling again at her rambling, unable to help yourself when you heard that there was no date, and that this extremely attractive stranger was somehow still single. “Well, hello.”

Helaena smiled brightly before taking notice of Nugget, who was shaking at the thought of being petted by someone new, and dropped down to a knee so that she could reach him. “Who’s this little chunker?”

“This is Nugget,” you replied. “I’m fostering him for the night.”

“Fitting name,” she laughed, standing back to her regular height. “So, can I buy you an ice cream? I don’t think I said thanks before I ran out of your office earlier and I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” you replied quickly before you gave yourself a chance to say no. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Helaena smiled as you fell in step with each other, making your way to the front of the booth. Sunfyre and Nugget were playing with each other; romping around and playing together; putting you and Helaena into a few awkward positions as you had to unwrap their leashes from around each other’s legs. You learned that she was an artist, mostly oil paintings and photography, who lived on the quiet side of the city with Aegon, her brother. And you told her all about your bad day, and what it was like working in a veterinary office, and some of your funny stories from college. 

Before you could even eat three bites of your ice cream, Nugget had coerced you into giving him most of it; which probably wasn’t what his actual owners intended for him to eat after his surgery. Helaena didn’t mind that the ice cream she had bought for you went to satisfying a fat Chihuahua’s sweet tooth, especially not when most of her own ice cream was being lapped up by little Sunfyre.

“Well, I should get home,” you told her after seeing the neon ‘open’ sign of the parlor shut off. “It’s getting late.” 

She nodded, standing up from the bench that you had been sitting on, “It was really nice running into you.”

“I agree,” you replied with a smile. 

“If you’d like to, maybe I can take you to dinner next?” She asked as she nervously ran a hand through her hair. You blinked a few times, wondering if you had heard her correctly or if it was your mind playing tricks on you. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to go to dinner with you,” you told her quickly and honestly. 

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I mean, that’s cool.”

“Should we?” You asked, taking out your phone to swap numbers and she laughed.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

You repeated the numbers twice to make sure she typed in the right ones, and after an awkward hug that seemed like it was almost a kiss on the cheek, you and Nugget happily walked back to your car. As soon as the driver’s side door was shut, you let out a joyous squeal and did a small dance in your seat. Your phone vibrated from the cup holder as you shifted into gear. You picked it up quickly and swiped at the screen until an unsaved number popped up on your screen. Your heart soared at the message that could only have been from one person.

212-555-6789

That was the best blind date ever! ;)

#so do what do you all think about a part two??? #because i have this little idea 😈 #helaena targaryen #Helaena Targaryen x reader #Helaena Targaryen x you #Helaena Targaryen x y/n #Helaena Targaryen fic #helaena targaryen fanfic #Helaena Targaryen fluff #Helaena Targaryen imagine #Helaena Targaryen drabble #helaena x reader #helaena x you #helaena x y/n #modern helaena #modern helaena targaryen #helaena the dreamer #Hotd helaena #helaena #queen helaena #phia saban

[obstinaterixatrix]

Do u know any good mob psycho 100 fanfics?? Or authors??

well obviously my sister but I’m guessing you’re the same anon so 1) you already know her fics 2) you want different recs from what’s on her list (some of them being fics I rec’d to her lol). recs will skew heavily seri/rei and I’m just going through my bookmarks so it’s gonna be most recently read to oldest read. also seconding sister’s recs of bobmoss and crookedturtle. but I’ll add a fic from each anyway because I already wrote something for one while I was drafting this (oops)

Recollection by CowardlyBean

This is the journal of missing 31 year old Reigen Arataka, distributed with permission from friends and family. The version presented in this document has been kindly edited with added commentary by a loyal customer of his. -Editor’s Note

gen, experimental and in progress at 14k so definitely deserves more love than it’s getting. inspired by house of leaves; as the summary says, it’s some rando writing annotations about reigen’s journal, but Something Weird Is Going On. the 4th chapter updated so I actually need to catch up. also, sister rec’d this fic to me

Like Acid Reflux, or Love by partingxshot

Dating Reigen is like dating a single dad—only with more children, weirder scruples, and an extreme ruthlessness vis-à-vis group takoyaki discounts. He's not hot enough for this.

OR: "Me, You and Steve" by Garfunkel and Oates but with fifteen million teenagers.

OR: Outsider POV exploring Reigen’s dedication to his gaggle of bizarre children through an ill-fated dating attempt.

OR: Serizawa gets bruxism.

gen(/pre-relationship seri/rei), oneshot, 7k. oc/reigen breakup lmao. extremely funny concept, extremely good execution

Dream Dial by Alakazamboni

For the better part of nine years, Arataka has proudly worked in customer service at a behemoth of a company. At least, that's what he remembers, but a strange illness and a mysterious caller keeps trying to convince him otherwise. It doesn't help that this caller has the power to distort reality.

seri/rei, in progress, 16k. great uncanny atmosphere, and also reigen is trapped in time prison as a miserable office worker. hasn’t been updated for a while but read it anyway, the stoping point is fine

What We Make by crookedturtle

Reigen and Tome are kidnapped from the Spirits and Such office to be used as leverage against Mob. They have two goals: to contact the outside world, and keep each other safe. In doing so they engage in a dangerous game of lies and manipulation with their captors—a game with potentially deadly consequences.

gen (bg seri/rei), complete, 36k. Good for whump and high stakes interpersonal maneuvering & drama. I liked how the story extends beyond rescue and goes into how everyone navigates the fallout

Man's Best Friend by bobmoss

A cursed dog gets left at Spirits and Such. Anyone who pets it is doomed to die a horrible death.

Reigen, of course, pets it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. funny and cute and sweet :) there’s a very charming tentative & tender vibe

heart line by ruthwrites

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his.

(or: Reigen starts offering palm readings as a service, leading to Serizawa having to confront his feelings for his boss.)

seri/rei, oneshot, 6k. getting together fluff, a fun light read that also highlights serizawa’s insecurities—the internal narration has good character voice

If you won't believe me when I say it, believe me when I don't by deathdefied

Two years after Reigen invited Serizawa to work for him, he still can't quite categorize his feelings for his coworker. Instead of actually dealing with those feelings like an adult and talking to his friend, he decided to get really paranoid and overthink everything Serizawa does.

seri/rei, complete, 26k. reigen drives himself nuts lmao

Obvious by skeilig

Tome’s perspective on Reigen and Serizawa’s developing relationship.

gen (but about seri/rei), oneshot, 3k. I like outsider perspective getting together fics, especially when the perspective character is like ‘I’m actually not invested in this except when it affects me directly’

Cover Me by flecksofpoppy

Reigen’s shadow seems longer as the days move forward, more solitary. The cuts on his face heal and the ache in his bones go away, but a new sting replaces it. It’s loneliness, the thing he had managed to avoid ever since a primary school-aged kid who could make cups float stumbled into his office so many years ago.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. getting together fic that shows off a little of reigen’s gloomier side, it’s cute

loved you just a little too much by shcherbatskayas

You learn how to let go.

(It doesn't come naturally.)

gen(ish), oneshot, 2k. 2nd person character study of serizawa’s relationship with touichiro, I liked the ambivalence; effectively captures development over time with a relatively short wordcount.

offering genuine help with genuine results by suitablyskippy

“The curse was pretty clear on me not telling lies,” concedes Reigen. “It was pretty clear on me telling the truth. But,” as he lifts one finger, already sliding into the same educational tone he generally uses for imparting wisdom to Mob about life and love and the overall holistic benefits of making sure he’s always available for unexpected overtime work on weekends, “telling the truth isn’t necessarily the same as being honest, is it?”

“You’re the professional liar,” says Dimple. “You tell me.”

(Being cursed to only tell the truth and being cursed with Dimple as an employee are pretty much equally bad, as far as Reigen's stress levels are concerned.)

gen, oneshot, 2k. the tags include friends with no benefits whatsoever, which is very apt. Very funny to have reigen and dimple be petty and shady

a slightly more miraculous miracle by suitablyskippy

“Rumour has it that something impossible’s happened. Something that could never have happened. That shouldn’t have been able to happen.” In a single slick move Mezato produces a tiny voice recorder from an inside pocket, flips it open and active, and holds it up before Mob’s mouth to ask him, in a tone of devastating intensity: “Do you know anything about… a miracle, Mob-kun?”

Mob doesn’t hesitate. “We had maths homework to hand in,” he says. “But now we don’t have to. We don’t even have to go to the lesson.”

(The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Salt Middle School has been closed by an unexplained miracle, and the only thing wrong in Spice City is the fact that nothing is even slightly wrong at all.)

teru/mob, incomplete, 55k. for the most part I haven’t been repeating authors on this list, but listen. listen to me. I need you to listen. it is extremely unlikely for this fic to ever be completed. but hark, lest this sad probability turn you away and leave you dispassionately scrolling to the next fic, I need you (you specifically) to know that if I were in the same room as you, I would be wrestling the phone/mouse/trackpad/touchscreen/etc from your hands and furiously clicking the link. when I bookmarked this fic in 2017 I described it as having “some breathtakingly sensical prose and the funniest misunderstandings I’ve ever read”. trust me from seven years ago. open your heart.

skylight by inexhaustible

unconnected snapshots in what might, in some worlds, be something a little like recovery.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. character study that nails the tension of an escalating romantic atmosphere.

come on, come on, come over (take it off your shoulder) by mortarsmayfall

Reigen's free hand cradles Serizawa's head, curled under his ear just so to turn it for a better angle. He feels his pulse pound under Reigen's fingers, shivers just the slightest bit. If Reigen notices, he doesn't say anything about it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. when I first read this I saved it as a private bookmark because I was so embarrassed by the sheer intimacy of haircuts with severely unresolved sexual tension. I’m guessing this was written after studio bones gave us reigen cutting serizawa’s hair. crumbs no more; for once we had a feast to enjoy. short & sweet getting together fic

Off-White by reigreitz

Some habits are tells.

seri/rei, oneshot, 1k. snapshots of pre-relationship and established relationship scenes, I’m quite fond of it. on my first reading I’m pretty sure I remember not paying attention to the habit piece at all (even with it being right in the summary) so at the last scene I was hit by the double whammy of ‘oh so that was what serizawa was reacting to’ and ‘AW… THAT’S SWEET…’; I think the fic does a great job of hiding/not acknowledging certain things the perspective character knows and is reacting to, which makes it fun to reread and pinpoint what exactly serizawa’s previously more opaque train of thought was. like, it’s the same stuff, but you get to read into more nuance.

the seven stages of falling in love by reigen arataka by matsunoble

You suppose one of the weirdest times to realize you've fallen deeply and irrevocably in love is when it's fuck o'clock in the morning and you're blearily checking your fridge for leftover curry.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. I was quite taken by the mundane (and sometimes unappealing) descriptions of love, and I like when serizawa has the upper hand

Mr. Psychic by beefstatic

Looks like trouble in Spice City...

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. Serizawa Acts Like An Intimidating Bodyguard During Tense/Shady Situations. fun emphasis on that potential aspect of his character, I like how it’s done.

Late by hamlingo

For the first few days after hiring Serizawa, Reigen couldn’t help but be alarmed when the door opened at eight o’clock sharp in the mornings. He got used to it eventually, and in a month’s time he was more surprised when the door didn’t creak open right on time.

This was one of those mornings.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. this is actually among the first seri/rei fics I bookmarked so I can say with relative certainty that on may 20th 2017 I decided that maybe seri/rei was not just a joke of me indulging my own spurious unreasonable whims. fun character study and has that enjoyable tension of pleasant pre-relationship uncertainty.

Quiet Talks by krypkaktus

At some point, Reigen cutting his hair twice a month had turned into a mutual habit.

seri/rei, oneshot, 600 words. another charming snapshot of pre-relationship uncertainty, pleasantly embarrassing unresolved romantic tension.

walk in by ruthwrites

It was then he realized that the reason Reigen and Serizawa were standing so close was because they were kissing.

Mob was not really sure what to do with that information.

(or: mob leaves something at the office, comes back, and walks into something he wasn't supposed to)

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. an extremely popular fic for extremely valid reasons, this is a shining example of the outsider POV shipfic where the perspective character is like. I’m 14 and did not want to see you guys kissing. and the couple is like. we also did not want you to see us kissing, this is excruciatingly awkward.

tomorrow isn't always another day by suitablyskippy

It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”

Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”

“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...”

(There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)

gen, oneshot, 18k. I didn’t mean to rec the same author three (3) times but this is also one of my top faves. extremely funny time prison where nobody is on the same page ever.

space voyage by Anonymous

Tome Kurata is slightly famous—or notorious, more like—for being... a weirdo, to put it simply. She's definitely a person of interest. Just not exactly in a newsworthy way, which is obviously the only way that matters.

mezato/tome, oneshot, 1k. charming pre-relationship contention, they’re the same type of self-absorbed and tunnel vision (affectionate)

I was thinking of not writing up recs for sister’s fics but since one author got three (3) fics on the list I’m gonna also put 3 of my fave fics of sister’s

Reigen's Comprehensive Fool-Proof Guide on How Not To Be Next Door Neighbors With Your Employee (because that'd just be creepy) by MalkyTop

Reigen hires Serizawa and they somehow end up as roommates.

seri/rei, complete, 17k. a fic sister wrote for ✨ME✨ that shows off reigen’s neuroticism and his decidedly not-normal attempts to come across as Extremely Normal, The Most Normal Man Alive. there are so many comedic setups and payoffs. there are so many shenanigans. reigen gets frog-boiled into romance. actually, I drop that term a lot but I’m not sure it’s a common enough to intuitively understand. it refers to the boiling frog metaphor

If At First You Don't Succeed, Find a Loophole by MalkyTop

Reigen keeps dying; Serizawa keeps trying to save him.

seri/rei, complete, 18k. sister was insane for this because she trapped all of her readers AND herself in time prison by releasing one chapter a day. it was really funny to witness because I was the only person not in time prison by virtue of editing privilege. while we were watching mondays: see you next week (an office time loop movie), sister was saying she was impressed at how effective/efficient the movie was at picking which scenes to repeat. this is to say, as someone who notices these details, sister was very intentional about when things changed and how things changed from the perspective of a character completely unaware of time prison. also, the emotional momentum is extremely good, I loved reading serizawa’s increasing desperation from reigen’s context-less perspective.

in absentia* by MalkyTop

After what was supposed to be a routine exorcism, Reigen wakes up in the wrong body.

serirei, complete, 26k. slowburn bodyswap with mystery and intrigue. a solid casefic! I can be biased and right. there are metanarrative elements that I find fun and that, in my opinion, highlights how sister did in fact get a degree in philosophy. there’s also some fun subtle and messy characterization notes, like when serizawa asks reigen not to cook for him. it’s hard to talk about what I like about this fic without giving away a lot of specifics, so go read it.

#orlbs #mp100lb #mob psycho 100 #long post #…I SPENT SO LONG ON THIS AND FORMATTED IT ALL ON MY PHONE SO EVERYBODY CLAP AND CHEER #why did I do it on my phone? bc I am lying in bed and didnt want to move #why did I spend so much time? bc I got carried away #why am I posting at 4am? stupidity. #why isn’t this under a readmore? because fic recs deserve to be seen. I’m adding an element of hostility for spice. #fanfiction #ask #anonymous

[miru667]

Hiii Miru!!! ♥︎

How is your day going?

Sorry if I’m bothering you, but I just wanted to ask you something that was in my mind for a while, what’s your opinion about the today’s Once-ler Fandom?

I mean, the new oncelings (like me) and all the new stuff that is here, you probably think that all of this is so different in comparison with how the fandom was back in 2012!

And also… do you miss something from the fandom? :p

Something that you don’t see here anymore or not as much as it used to be?

Hiii suemooon! Today was yet another tiring work day =w= but my coworker gave me hot chocolate mix and marshmallows today as a christmas present so that was nice! I hope you're doing well too.

To compare today's onceler fandom vs 2012's onceler fandom...man I could talk forever about this haha! This is all just from my own point of view of course but I would say, yes a lot of things are different, but a lot of things are the same, too.

UHHMMM extremely long post so it's under a readmore LOL

For the differences, a lot of them are simply due to the way the internet has changed in 12 years. In 2012, most oncelings were in their early 20s, and if you were younger than 16 you were extremely rare and we would be like "WOAH?? THEY'RE 15?? I HAVE NEVER SEEN A 15 YEAR OLD ON SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE". But today's oncelings are like, mostly teens now, I feel? I think it's because of tiktok, which didn't exist internationally until 2018, and also because of parents giving ipads to their kids at the age of 2. But yeah, to compare today to 2012 is like comparing gen z to millennials, the content and jokes were different and, due to 2012 being in the past, what was socially acceptable was different, too.

Another thing that's different is the way young people act towards characters nowadays, but let me specify some more. I really dislike the term "content" when referring to someone's personal creations because it just sounds so corporate. And I don't know how to feel when I see some new oncelings treat an old popular askblog character as if they're public property produced by some big company, instead of as an OC that someone worked really hard on. For example, Truffula Flu Camp Entre and Thneedville High AU are like "established media" to a lot of people out there now, as if they're well-known series recognizable to the masses (no, they're not). And as a result, I've seen people headcanon whatever they want on other people's OCs and ship them however they want without even knowing if the mods are okay with those ships anymore (it's better to be real careful, if you want my advice..). I've also seen new oncelings give other people's OCs to public merch-selling sites without the mods' permission, and I've even seen new oncelings try to take inactive askblog OCs as their own. Why? :( Just make your own OCs. You can do it! Hold my hand.

New oncelings don't understand what they're stepping into when they look at our old content from over a decade ago. Our personal feelings and our private friendships from those times, whether good or bad, are precious to us and I guess it's just a new phenomenon that we have to deal with now, so I don't have the answers for this yet. But I would encourage everyone to also look at new and current OCs in the fandom - which many people do, and I love to see that!! I also love seeing people making friends with each other and having fun with each other, that's what reminds me of the better days of 2012.

Another difference is the...landscape? We have tumblr DMs now and we have discord communities so a lot of things are hidden now from public view. RPs used to be public on tumblr but now we rp on discord and only people in the server can read them, and there are pros and cons to that. Also the fandom isn't dominated by only a handful of askblogs anymore. Things are WAY more balanced and evenly distributed now compared to 2012, where Swag Once-ler was the king of the fandom with 200 asks sent to him every hour and 4000 followers accumulated in just 5 months. (And I'm not dissing on Swag, I loved Swag too. I'm just stating my observations. In fact I miss him a lot ;-;)

As for what's the same...xD The excitement and passion that a lot of new oncelings have! I find that so cute. People being creative is the same, people gushing over the onceler and fandom ocs is the same, even if internet slang has changed. People being ambitious with projects is the same, even if those projects are never finished (but this is just general human nature). And PEOPLE BEING SWEET TO EACH OTHER is the same! I was nervous during 2020 since a lot of "ironic" fans joined that year but I'm happy to have seen some genuinely sweet people around in more recent years, just like there were in 2012. 😊

I also see a lot of the same movie analysis discussions each year, which makes sense since new people keep entering the fandom, haha! "The lorax movie could've been better", "the 1972 film is better", "I wish they kept biggering", "they should've expanded the factory scenes and taken out the car chase scene", "i hate the onceler's mom", "the movie's point gets muddled because too many people think his mom's to blame", "i can't believe zac efron and taylor swift didn't sing in the movie", and on and on, those never change, and I've seen these same discussions so often that I support the antithesis of each topic now, just to be a rebel. 😇 But usually I don't engage in those anymore, I just think "haha aww! they're having fun :]" and leave them be! But like, it truly reminds me of the earlier days. It's me who has changed, in this case.

And finally, "do you miss something from the fandom? Something that you don’t see here anymore or not as much as it used to be?" I mentioned Swag already, I also miss a lot of other askblogs that belonged to my friends, and most of all I miss a lot of my friends who've drifted away, and I hope they're all doing well. I had a lot of good times with friends over the years. Some of them were rp partners and I miss our rps and I miss their characters dearly, I can't think about it too hard or else I might cry. What else...I want to say that I miss the crazy nightblogging events we used to have but I don't know if I could keep up with those anymore if they happened again haha. Same with askblogs answering asks live, almost no one does that now because people want so much to make every ask pretty with a new pretty artwork. But like, even if that comes back, again I don't know if I could keep up. So I suppose everything had its place!

Things will continue to shift and change, and you never know what the future holds so it's best to just keep going. I'm still making new friends and new good memories in the fandom each year, and I'm grateful for that.

THANK YOU SO MUCH for this ask and thanks (and sorry) to anyone who read through all of this!!

#miruask #suemooon #i spent 7 hours typing this LOL #reference

[spanishskulduggery]

When did you first start learning Spanish? And any basic learning tips? I have a few Spanish speaking coworkers but I get so nervous trying to practice my Spanish with them.... and and, when you were first learning Spanish, did you have any little things you found especially fun/funny?

Oh gosh it's been decades now. To give some backstory and you can do your own math here, this blog started in 2013 when I was still in college getting my degree in Spanish

I started in what I think would be middle school when Spanish became a mandatory class, but I didn't start really studying and understanding things until high school. It wasn't until even after college that I REALLY felt like I understood Spanish because there were so many native speakers and people interacting with me.

One thing that totally changed my perception and how I perceive Spanish was there was a question on the preterite and imperfect, and I'm giving my answer and trying to explain some bits about how a lot of times both are potentially correct but it's how you mean it that matters

And someone mentioned that "imperfect" in its linguistic etymology means "not yet completed"; that "perfect" is "done thoroughly" where the -fect is probably related to hacer "to do"... and "imperfect" thus means "not yet done", and just a huge lightbulb moment

I remember thinking "I WISH one of my teachers had known that or said that to me because it makes so much more sense now"

And I still mess up but usually it's followers like "oh we say THIS here" or "that's not the word we use but it reminds me of this thing in my country"

-

A few funny things in Spanish based on mistakes that I've made or things that I learned:

You haven't truly begun your Spanish journey until someone tells you that embarazado/a means "pregnant" not "embarrassed" (avergonzado/a).... similarly no one mentions that embarazoso/a means "awkward" or "unwieldy" in a way

querer means "to want", but it can also mean "to love" or cherish; similarly querido/a means "dear", but la querida can also kind of mean "side-piece" like someone's affair partner woman so if you see someone talking about their querida without a name or a noun they might be talking about an affair

el pelo is "hair", el cabello typically means "hair on the top of the head" like a human... and el cabello is NOT el caballo "horse"

the word for "eye-catching" is llamativo/a and NOT miradizo/a which miradizo/a is one of those old words but it kind of means "awestruck" or "makes you stare in wonderment" in a weirdly poetic way

sartén as "frying pan" can be masculine or feminine depending on country

there are too many words for beans

there are three main words for "purple" - la púrpura usually means "red-violet" or Tyrian purple and also the mollusk you get purple from; morado/a is often "dark purple" related to la mora which can be "blackberry" or "mulberry"; lila is "light purple" meaning "lilac".... you can also say violeta that's fine too

people say naranja for "the color orange" more than anaranjado/a but not everyone has the patience to explain that naranja which comes from the fruit doesn't change for gender

same with rosa as "pink", where rosado/a "pink" is also valid and usually what's taught

regionalisms. regionalisms everywhere

If you're in a really immature class, someone is going to laugh at puse

the word for "jellyfish" in Spanish is la medusa and that makes me happy

similarly, a male "horseman" is often el jinete; a female "horsewoman" or "rider" is sometimes la amazona and that also makes me happy

la macedonia is sometimes "fruit salad", so one assumes that Macedonians were just throwing fruit together in a bowl or something

Except for two big exceptions, most words ending in al- in Spanish are from Arabic origins [the exceptions being anything related to el almuerzo "lunch", and la almendra "almond"]

la manzana can mean "city block" in some places - probably because in a feudal society people lived in "manses" and the biggest house was the "mansion" where the lord lived, and it has nothing to do with apples

la montaña rusa is "roller coaster" literally "Russian mountain" because Russian people used to make little roller coasters by shaping ice mountains and putting tracks on them

la paja rusa does NOT mean "Russian straw", it is extremely NSFW and do not google it on a school server...... in fact don't look up any kind of paja because it's just as NSFW and it means "straw" if you're not talking about sex so otherwise don't worry about it

someone told me that linguistically para is just por+a, so parais literally "for the purpose of" or "for/so that to" and I've never been the same

the word for "ladybug" in Spanish is la mariquita which is "little Mary" because red used to be associated with Virgin Mary and the spots were said to be 7 and represent the joyful/sorrowful mysteries - many languages have a religious connotation to "ladybug"... also English, because the "lady" refers to Mary, like "Our Lady"

The Spanish alphabet used to be different where CH and RR were their own separate letters... it made looking things up weird; I also don't know how I feel about L vs. LL as separate letters because it's a whole other sound but it IS technically two L's

The word for octopus is el pulpo... the word for "pulp" is la pulpa; don't be like me and mix up asking for orange juice with no octopus

I cannot stress this enough but el pollo is "chicken" or "poultry"; la polla is a NSFW word meaning "cock" and as soon as you say you want cock for dinner you will die some on the inside

I don't know what the deal is with ahorita or what it means without hearing the tone of voice and neither does anyone else, it could be anything

caber is the worst verb, but ir/andar are also up there

every so often luego/pues means "thus" or "therefore" and it's going to throw you off

every so often el hacha (technically feminine) means candle or torch, and in any other situation it means "hatchet" so imagine my confusion when I read about people carrying axes around to see

all my life everyone told me never to use gustar without an indirect object and a friend from Puerto Rico says gusta to mean "cool" all the time and it made me question everything

#asks #spanish vocabulary #spanish #langblr #learn spanish #long post

[bewilderedbunny]

Line cook Eddie part 3!

Hi friends! I was not expecting to write this so soon after part 2, but I'm rolling with it. Hope you enjoy it!! 💖 (the word counter I used says this is 666 words, thought that was cute) Flirty fluff, light sexual innuendo, cursing, sort of a bit of angst but not really. Eddie x fem!reader but feel free to switch the pronouns if you'd like ☺️ I had to include ABBA in this because I am a Mamma Mia! fan first and a human being second.

Credit to @delishlydelightfuldividers for the divider 💕

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

During a morning shift, a middle-aged man comes into the diner. He's a bit quiet but polite. He has his "please and thank yous" down pat. You check up on him during his meal and ask how everything is.

"Wonderful, my compliments to the chef." he says.

You smile and say, "He'll be so excited to hear that."

The older man looks up at you and says, "I would mention to him to cut back on the salt a bit. He has done a number on my blood pressure enough as it is." as he says that you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder.

"Hey pops. Was my girl good to you?"

You realize this must be Wayne, Eddie doesn't talk about him often but when he does it's with adoration.

"She was great. It's good to put a face to the name since you're always talkin' 'bout her."

Eddie laughs, a little too loud and you giggle at the pink on his cheeks.

One day during your break you step outside to get some fresh air. You can hear Eddie talking to someone near the dumpster.

"You like that, sweetheart? Look at you. You're just the cutest thing I've ever seen." Your heart aches, aren't you supposed to be the cutest thing he's ever seen? You know he's a big flirt with everyone, but you thought you were special. You quietly creep around the corner and when you finally see him you want to cry. He's squatted behind the dumpster feeding chicken to a scruffy little cat while rubbing its back. It's not even scraps from a customer's meal, this son of a bitch cooked a chicken breast for a kitten who, upon further inspection, reminds you of Wayne with its greyish fur and blue eyes.

He walks you to your car after your shift. He started doing it one night the two of you were working and hasn't stopped. Even when you're leaving before him, he walks you out and then goes back inside.

"I'm in a band, y'know?" He says, drying silverware. He's facing you and has his hip pressed against the counter.

"Oh yeah? An ABBA cover band?" You joke.

"How'd you guess? We do a cover of "Chiquitita" that'll knock your socks off."

You stop rinsing cutlery and look at him.

"I know you're kidding, but I love that song."

"Yeah?" He says, turning away from you. He's known it's your favorite for weeks. You were humming throughout your shift once and he spent the following day at the record store trying to figure out what song it was. He eventually went up to an employee and hummed it to them until they could help him find it. He bought the goddamn ABBA record.

You lightly flick him with water and he acts like you've just waterboarded him, stumbling around and gasping for breath. He reaches toward the faucet and flicks you back, he throws more water than you had and you gasp, "You're getting me wet!" His eyes get huge and he starts to giggle. When you realize why you giggle right along with him.

You come in for your dinner shift one day and notice a stack of papers at the register. You pick one up and see a sketch of a fire-breathing dragon. The dragon is guarding various food items like pancakes, milkshakes, burgers, and fries. All of the papers are copies of this drawing and next to the stack, there is an old box of crayons. You ask your coworker what this is, and she says Eddie brought them in this morning to give kids something to entertain themselves with while they wait for their food. You can't wait to hand them out and you save any colored in pages for the next time you have a shift together so you can show him what a hit they were.

Thanks for reading 🥞💖

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #line cook eddie

[baeddel]

do u ever have trouble making friends w ppl who dont have the same awareness as u? like not even different or more awareness, either less or no awareness... of like, politics or critical thinking or societal issues... or do you prefer to have some ppl in ur life that u can never be serious or critical with ?

long and you get a bit of a lecture sorry

your coworkers are probably not any less engaged than you, you just don't agree with them. my mother's previous boss belongs to this charismatic Pentecostal milieu. you get a minister who founds a church in his living room. they pack in about twenty middle class ulstermen and pray together, sing hyms and speak in tongues. when they've collected enough tithes they buy a little building or something. in less than a year it will collapse because of a ferocious ideological struggle or, just as often, an adultery scandal. gasp! then they pack into someone else's living room to pray and argue. she and her husband write these little political-theological pamphlets to distribute within their milieu. at school she'll go in the office and hold a prayer session with others like her. they practice what my grandmother sarcastically calls 'good living.' as her son grew older he became interested in fantasy fiction and she asked me to lend him some of my books. among a bunch of other things i gave him all my Terry Pratchett, including some of his late books that mixed fiction and nonfiction. these were returned the next day, which i was told was because he asked her to return them because they mentioned Darwin and it frightened him so much he didn't want it in the house. they are also by the way anti-vaxx, young earth creationists and so forth. she was very rowdy at work during the George Floyd protests. my mother used to come home shaking and start ranting to me about it. and i was stunned by just how radical her views had become; my mother, the only person in our neighbourhood who'll call the cops, who at the start was so concerned about looters, now talking to me about the task of black liberation, educated not by leftist propaganda but by the negation of church ladies' racist prattle. anyway, once i was getting this little holy card of a particular saint (i don't remember which) but, because i guess the website was really for clergy, you had to get them in packs of fifty. i asked my mum if she would give the rest to that very religious woman she worked with since she could pass them around the congregation—certainly not, she had to remind me. iconography. oh yeah, oops...

this isn't someone who is lacking awareness of the issues. it's just that their theoretical touchstone isn't Marx but Martin Luther. or Ray Comfort. but you would be quite surprised at just how aware your conservative neighbours are of critique if you'd really talk to them. i used to use this dating advice site where heterosexuals would go to give each other awful advice and talk about current events, and most of the userbase were US republicans of various sorts. i would sit down and argue with them every day. to back up their arguments they'd abuse studies and statistics in the usual way, but you might be surprised to hear they were not the least bit shy to talk to me about Foucault. one gentleman countered my Marx with his own Hegel, and i would very often hear from Burke, who's remark about society's 'little platoons' has become such a cliche on the American right that now it'll make most conservatives roll their eyes (in 2018 the American Conservative ran with the headline: Knock It Off With The 'Little Platoons' Already).

you'd know that if you sat down and talked with them in a way where you could be completely honest with each other, but you're probably never in that situation. they know you don't want to hear all that stuff. you'd get in a big fight, so they settle for talking about the ordinary topics of conversation or try and bond with you over something which seems politically neutral. an old neighbour of mine would make me take all these CDs because he knew i played guitar. he gave me this instrumental album by The Shadows, the backing band for Cliff Richard, since "one of them guitarists on there", he assured me, was "the best guitarist in the world." he'd always invite me over to get drunk with him and i'd always politely decline since i was trying to be sober. "i don't drink now," i'd say. "you'll learn!" he'd say. not drinking all the time was incomprehensible to him. but he was a UVF man. i knew that, somewhere, in another life that he led, he was confronting the concrete questions of organization, the theoretical problems of loyalism, coordinating with foreign arms and so forth. what did he think about the Good Friday Agreement, decomission, all the rest? how did he hold onto the values of family and community when his concrete activity consisted of racketeering and intimidation? i wish i went drinking with him when i did have the chance. i loved sitting down to drink with all those old crooks. as a homosexual i’d be all over Belfast, or as far up as Antrim, or down by Armagh, exploring boy’s bedrooms. every family is ‘connected’, so i met dangerous fathers and uncles of every sort; IRA men, UVF men, UDA men. and as much as my crossdressing alarmed them, it was good manners to invite me to drink. and alcohol works a kind of magic. they’ll get excited enough to tell you a big story that they set aside all the problems; now you’re sharing something authentic with a guy who, in any other situation, would be threatening your knees. anyway, you get talking about things. the intellectual field on offer was limitless. Carlos Castaneda, Aleister Crowley, William Burroughs, Salvador Dali, Bertolt Brecht, Jacques Brel, Joni Mitchell, Pink Floyd, the Doors. there was always a sort of sad nostalgia to these conversations. you get these guys who were, deep in their hearts, beatniks and hippies, who joined the UDA for the drugs and glamour. did they want to spend the rest of their lives as fascist bullies, defending lines on a map they can’t even fully explain? most of the paramilitary men i met had been through this ‘internal emigration’, into a sort of unhappy anti-political consciousness. it reminds me of Monsieur Dupont’s discussion of certain workplace militants in Nihilist Communism:

[W]e should like it to go on the record that we have met with several workplace militants and for the most part they have no political consciousness. Many of these militants are very anti-political, we would say they were post-political, but how did they become militants if they did not receive political instruction? Their condition is one of absolute refusal of the legitimacy of the manager, an absolute intransigence over specific workplace issues and a kind of terrifying site-specificity producing in them an absolute refusal to look at the wider picture (like Ahab on the back of the white whale they are consumed with a madness for not escaping). We do not endorse such militants, we see them as being stuck in a loop of restricted gestures which their identity seems to depend upon, what would they do if they had not their struggle? It is a fact of our experience that most workplace militants are quite mad and/or not especially very nice people to know; it is important not to get wrapped up in their personal feuds but still we would argue that these mad-eyed prophets are in advance of those who are politically motivated, in advance and waiting in the desert, gone mad with waiting, gnawing at locusts, sitting on poles. Some of them, and of a certain age, cite Pink Floyd, and not Marx, as the biggest influence on their lives. They required only a narrative of otherness, something that was not contained in the usual cause and effects of everyday life to legitimise their dispute. Will the misty master break me, will the key unlock my mind? For such people, the A to В thinking of most pro-revolutionary activists is too basic and not even appropriate to the situation. To them it means nothing to ‘speak in a language the workers understand’ because nobody has ever spoken such a language.

Monsieur Dupont are criticizing you, by the way—this idea that ‘political consciousness’ (in your case an even more timid ‘awareness of societal issues’) is something desirable or progressive, which pro-revolutionaries should be trying to raise. isn’t the problem often the opposite, an excessive awareness of societal issues, like a kind of tinnitus that doesn’t stop ringing in the ears? their workplace militant reminds me of a guy my father knew—’radicalized’ by Pink Floyd, but who got sucked into conspiracy theories by the internet. he was a nice guy who would do anything for you, and my father had asked him to drive me home one night. he would talk to you the entire way home and when he talked to you he would stare at you and wouldn’t look at the road at all. he told me all about HAARP, the NWO, chemtrails, the occult causes of earthquakes, the damage radiation is doing to your body because of telephones and microwaves, and how he wrote a 300-page pamphlet to give to his son’s teacher disputing all of the false science they were teaching. during our conversation a light on his phone began to blink, which he decided was because they must have been listening, whereupon he ripped the battery out of the phone and threw the whole thing out the window. when we got to my place he gave me the address to his facebook page where he predicts the future, but when i looked it up the next day it was gone.

i knew a lot of conspiracy theory guys. to live in a country like this you have to go insane, it’s unbearable. conspiracy theorism has a split consciousness; there’s an enjoyment of occult symbols, gematric connections, divination and spiritism, while at the same time attributing these things to evil powers, the explanation of which should inspire the hearer to their political undoing. many conspiracy theorists are also occultists, or move between one and the other with a little embarassment. in any case, it relies on a relationship to societal issues that is beyond awareness, in fact a hyperawareness. i suppose the opposite side is one sort of self-depricating disavowal of agency which is very common among young lumpen/proletarians, who belong to Oscar Lewis’s culture of poverty. the culture of poverty is a kind of alienated consciousness which results from a disidentification with the institutions of society. he was trying to explain how it was the case that even when many social programs exist, lumpen/proles do not make use of them; nor do they join in with class conscious organizations (such as unions) that enable collective struggle. it’s because, he determined, they didn’t interpret any information about those programs or organizations as being relevant to themselves. they don’t regard themselves as citizens of their own country. if disillusioned fascists take an ‘inner emigration’, disillusioned lumpen/proles are ‘inner illegal immigrants’. this is how i think through a certain consciousness which is quite typical among my peers. they regard the church, politics, the media, the results of natural sciences, art and poetry with equal cynicism while, at the same time, they regard themselves as total morons, invincibly incapable of agency or analysis. many of my highschool classmates didn’t do their homework or participate in tests and left school without even attempting to acquire qualifications. if you asked them about it they’d be completely honest with you: what’s the point? it’s not that they thought education had no purpose in society, they just felt it had no purpose for them, as they were not such a subject which could be cultivated. yet if you did not share their cynicism they would be very angry with you. one of my friends told us how he once caught his sister reading a book and was so angry with her that he ripped it out of her hands and threw it away. there was something fundamentally dishonest to him about reading. you were putting something on, acting above your station. it mystified me, since i would go home and immerse myself in Plato and Eddic poetry, yet neither was i any more tolerant of school or society. who could say why we felt so differently though having such a similar background? here is another very demonstrative example: one of our friends, when some missionaries came by to give out bibles, made a show of throwing his in the bin. why throw it in the bin? because he was a politically convinced atheist who hated the Church and its lies. most people thought he was a tosser for that. but were they themselves deeply Christian? no, not remotely: they would mime the hyms and fall asleep in RE just like everyone else. like the conspiracy theorist they had a kind of split consciousness; neither society nor the destruction of society had any claim on their hearts.

i can’t really talk about it, but things happened that did engage these other kids in a political or militant direction, despite all those things, at which they were very successful. then when the battle was over, in some ways won and in some ways lost, they went back to alienated life. most of them had children before they turned twenty and now i only hear about them in the part of the newspaper that reports on court cases, whenever they’re in trouble for vandalizing a pub and ‘found in the possession of a certain quantity of ketamine.’ this is why i’m sympathetic to the Duponts’ fetishistic elevation of material conditions over consciousness. but in any case, here is how i handle things now: in my estimation most people suffer, intellectually, because they belong to a racket. they have to share space with roommates, work at a workplace, belong to a family, or even associate with a political party, and they depend on these things for food, shelter, and intimacy. these things place harsh limits on what they can acceptably think or feel and in their soul they resign and acquiesce. whatever thrills, excites or even frightens them becomes latent in their soul, meanwhile they say the things which are expected of them. when this is true your conversations, even heated arguments, are predestined by their relevance to a pre-determined intellectual regime which your argument merely performs. it doesn’t matter what political or social issues you have these conversations about; they don’t contribute anything that isn’t already fully present in the agitating subject. nodding conversations between radicals and screaming matches between enemies are just as alienated as the most unlikely conspiracy theories and the most depressing cynicisms. what you want to do is allow someone to express some authentic excitement with you. actually listen to what they have to say and don’t judge them. be open to their system of values without imposing your own; don’t expect to hear about Marx, and try to stop cringing at hippies and beatniks and acid casualties and music hipsters and movie guys and any other form of enthusiasm you’ve been trained to think is naive. you’re trying to find what someone considers their own and give them an opportunity to express their ownness. then you can be as ‘serious’ as you like with them.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Hello everyone. Suppose you have followed me for a while; you probably know the Strawberry Kisses and Candy Wine series.

Thank you for reading and the reblog @thezombieprostitute It reminds me that someone still enjoys my old work. 🥰

I decided to make the whole summary longer. Here is the complete version ❤️

Story Summary:

CEO! Steve Rogers visited a Y/N bakery called 'Dear Cake' almost daily. Steve falls in love at first sight with Y/N, and she's the same. 

So Y/N used to work in a food company and she was part of the food development team, creating new snacks and food.

She's a hardworking girl and has created some delicious snacks. But then her hard work got stolen by her coworker, Harry Osborn.

She felt burnt out and heartbroken because someone enjoyed her work. Y/N couldn't do anything since Harry is the son of the CEO of the company she works for.

Then she quit, and her brother Peter helped her build her cafe. That's where she meets Steve ❤️

******

At the party, Steve finally meets Y/N again. Y/N was surprised too. It turned out Natasha had been trying to make Y/N and Steve meet, but both of them were busy.

Y/N and Steve talk to each other at the party. Both of them didn't know that they could have met sooner if they hadn't rejected Natasha's invitation.

It was a company event, which means there were a lot of guests. Harry was also invited. Harry saw Y/N with Steve. Harry talked low about Y/N and told her to come back because it's her duty.

Y/N was traumatized because of Harry. Steve saw everything. He held Y/N and punched Harry in the face.

Harry swore that he would sue Steve.

Steve told him, "You could try."

Steve saw Bucky and told him, "Terminate every contract with Osborn company. If their next leader is like him, it will be ruined in a year."

Y/N saw Steve as a hero.

Harry doesn't realize how powerful Steve is in the business world. They're not on the same level, which is why he never noticed Steve before.

Tomorrow morning, Harry will get scolded by his dad because their company just lost a big contract.

Since that night, their relationship has been getting closer and more romantic. ❤️❤️❤️

In the end, both of them married and had two cute daughters who always helped their mother to bake a cake. Steve always came home and got his daughters to always welcome him with cookies they made. 

The end.

Epilogue : Bucky's son and Steve's daughter are getting together. Bucky's son told his parents, "I've found my wife." 🤣🤣🤣

#steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #marvel au #ceo!steve rogers #ceo au #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers #steve rogers x baker!female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you

[proteovaldez]

Im gonna talk Jason, Reyna and Octavian. Reminder I haven’t read these books in like five or more years. Are these headcannons? Let’s call it that.

Wolf boy Jason should be talked about more. Also I like Octavian as a character cause he’s a little freak. And Reyna is my personal Ace/Aro representation. My sister and I have made little phrases to help others understand how we’ve characterized them. Octavian is “Dog eat Dog.” Reyna is “Dog and Dog.” Jason is “Doggie Dog.”

Now to explain how I think pre Hera/Juno Camp Jupiter was like. So in my mind time works differently at the wolf house. Reasoning, no way a two year old in just a year is Roman ready. So Jason spends a lot of time there. He’s a baby, so obviously he picks up on the wolf stuff and as a result he’s more animalistic. The only explanation why he was able to succeed at being a soldier at age three for fifteen years is because he is not the usual soldier. He’s a wolf first and a Roman soldier second. No matter how much training you have, it’s kind of hard to beat someone who is not afraid to bite and theoretically tear out your throat. I like to think he had longish hair. I mean I fully believe he refused shoes and his cohorts would brush his hair or give him head scratches. He has definitely bit an adult.

Now Reyna is just trying to do her job. I mean you’re telling me that Jason wouldn’t immediately investigate the new girl. He does and she’s cool. When did she get the metal dogs? Doesn’t matter she’s clearly good with dogs. Also both of them are great fighters and intelligent. I’m confident they bonded even before he became praetor. I fully believe they are in love. I mean like queer platonic love. Like the most they’ve done is holding pinkies when slightly stressed or doing each other’s hair. She cringes when he tried to hug her once. So when they both are praetors it’s her just silently begging for him to wear shoes at meetings.

Now Octavian, our favorite little freak of a teen. Octavian is a legacy, I’m assuming his parents live in New Rome. I like your think Jason went to a school and had classes with Octavian. Octavian has always been weird. Also he can read. I don’t remember if legacies are also dyslexic, but you’re telling me Octavian wouldn’t know how to read with no struggle. He would and he’d lord it over everyone. I just know he’s always been a little ambitious and power hungry. I mean what child with prophetic tendencies wouldn’t crave power? He definitely notices Jason is powerful and useful. He knows it’s better to be on the possible feral child’s side. Also he’s incredibly patriotic like most Roman’s are historically at least. He knows Jason is good for Rome and I bet he’s one of the many who thought Jason fumbled choosing the fifth cohort. Like he’s known of Jason forever and knows that Jason is all for the Roman cause he’s a child soldier. He can rely on Jason to be on the side of Rome. Now Reyna he definitely was wary until he actually met her. He’s a smart kid, so obviously he likes Reyna. He respects her greatly until she becomes Praetor. After that he has two separate Reyna’s in his mind. There’s smart, intelligent Reyna, and then there’s Praetor Reyna. The second one is an implied sneer. Cause I bet she’s had to alter her original ideas and plans to appeal to the council. Octavian has heard Reyna’s original plans and thinks they’re genius, but Praetor Reyna is a sellout.

The three of them are literally the most recognized campers at Camp Jupiter. It’s kind of hard to not at least respect your coworkers when they’re useful and technically are working towards the same goal. Like Reyna wasn’t there long so she probably was just pleased she had people to talk to. Maybe not friends exactly but acquaintances. And Jason likes people. Then Octavian likes useful people. Also they’re teenagers. I just know the three of them hung out and have stupid jokes, but only do so in private as they’re kind of serious people.

#pjo series #pjo fandom #jason grace #Jason grace pjo #pjo jason #octavian #pjo octavian #reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna ramirez arellano #reyna pjo #camp jupiter #Roman camp

[wrenreid]

Off Limits

content warning: none i can think of

Part Four

I’ve been watching Hotch’s son for five days now. I got a call from him this morning apologizing for leaving me with Jack for so long.

“I really don’t mind, Hotch,” I told him.

It’s true. I’ve always liked kids; well, at least the sweet ones. And I don’t have any kids of my own. Babysitting is a way to take care of children and be able to give them back eventually. I think it’s a pretty good deal.

Anyway, it’s not like I’m alone. Jade is here 90% of the time; the other 10% she’s with friends. I suppose it’s nice having company other than a four year old. We’ve stayed up in the living room talking almost every night after Jack goes to sleep.

We haven’t talked about much, but it’s been nice just to talk. She doesn’t seem to mind when I go on tangents about anything my brain can conjure up. I like that because as tolerant as my coworkers are, their faces always show when they want me to quit rambling. Jade’s facial expressions don’t grow irritated and bored when I spill out my knowledge. She may not really care, but she doesn’t show that. I appreciate it.

She a lot like her dad in some ways, but I don’t think she notices. She’s stubborn and intelligent. I can also tell by examining her body language and the way she talks that she’s a natural born leader. Maybe that’s why Morgan has always called her little Hotch.

When I first met her, I was 23, and she was 16. Her dark hair reminded me of Hotch’s, but it was more chocolate while his was more ebony. Her eyes are dark too, but there’s a hint of hazel in them, like Haley had. Her eyes have gotten a little darker now that she’s aged some years.

Some may say it’s strange that I notice these things, but I notice everything. Details stick out to me. I’ve also noticed how she has a wall she’s put up behind her eyes, keeping those looking into them from seeing her feelings. The wall isn’t as strong or thick as her fathers, but it’s still there.

I have one of those too, I’ll admit. If I remember correctly, I began building that wall at 10 years old. 18 years later, I’d like to say it’s pretty sturdy.

Some might think it’s a bad thing to create those barriers between yourself and the outside world. But from my point of view, it’s a safety net. Why would one wear their heart on their sleeve and risk others using that to their advantage when they can hold all the cards themselves?

All this to say, I don’t blame her for the extra support in front of her emotions.

“Hey,” Jade says with a yawn, her steps making soft thud sounds on the hardwood stairs.

“Hi,” I give her a small wave from my spot on the couch. Jack is watching cartoons on the tv while he sits on the floor, his legs crossed in a pretzel.

Jade slept in this morning, and I told Jack to be a little quieter so she could stay asleep.

It’s 11am now when she heads into the kitchen. She comes back a minute later with a bowl of cereal in her hands. She sits down a little bit away from me on the couch, shelving a spoonful of the cheerios into her mouth as soon as she’s situated.

Her hair’s messy, but it’s kind of flattering somehow. Jade’s dressed in a white t shirt too big for her and black shorts that are hardly visible underneath the shirt.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask, just trying to make conversation. Usually, I don’t bother for small talk, but I figure it can’t do any harm.

Jade finished chewing the handful of cereal in her mouth, swallows, then answers. “Pretty well. I appreciate sleeping in for the first time in a while.”

“Not a morning person?”

She shrugs. “Not particularly. You?”

I furrow my eyebrows a little. “I’d rather sleep in than get up early, but I hardly ever get to. I usually go to bed late too. So I guess you could say I’m more of a night person,” I tell her.

“Me too. I just like night better,” Jade says. “It’s quiet and less bright.”

“Research shows those considered ‘night owls’ are more intelligent and creative than those who wake up early.”

“I guess our brains just need more rest after a hard day of being smarter than everyone else,” she says with a grin.

I laugh softly at that. “I suppose so.”

“Would you want to go to the park today?” She asks, and I almost think she’s asking me on a date of some sorts until I glance back at her and see she’s talking to her brother.

“Yes!” Jack exclaims excitedly.

“Okay. If you go put this in the sink for me, I’ll take you and we can play catch,” Jade says, holding out her bowl.

Jack realizes what she’s doing, but agrees to her terms. He rises from his place on the living room rug and makes his way to the living room with her bowl in his hands.

“That was devious,” I say with a slight chuckle.

“It was strategic. I didn’t want to get up off the couch, and he wants something I can give him. It’s good thinking,” Jade says, tapping her fingertips to her head.

I shake my head, but a smile creeps up onto my lips. “I’m glad I didn’t have any older siblings.”

She laughs softly. “Me too.”

Jack comes back, his hands on his hips. “So, when we going to the park?”

“How about one? I need a shower,” Jade tells him.

“One?” Jack whines.

“That’s only about two hours. Five and a half cartoons,” she says.

“Fine,” he sighs with quite a bit of emotion behind it for a four year old.

The desired time for said four year old rolls around, and Jade keeps to her word. They’re both dressed now. Jack in jeans and a light weight jacket and Jade in thin black joggers and a slightly baggy t shirt.

“You don’t have to go with us if you need a break from you know who,” Jade tells me as she reties Jack’s shoelace that he did himself.

“Actually, I’d like to go if that’s okay. It’s a nice day,” I say with a soft smile.

“Suit yourself,” she shrugs, grabbing her keys off one of the hooks on the wall.

“Your version of a nice day is quite different from most people’s,” Jade laughs once we’re walking through the park to find a suitable spot.

There’s several people here, some on bikes, some talking on benches, some playing football, some playing with their children. The light grey clouds in the sky are covering up the sun just enough so that it’s not too bright out. It looks like it may rain tonight. The April weather is still somewhat cold, leftover from winter, but it isn’t so chilly that one would need many layers.

I look up at the sky and around us. “The sun isn’t blinding my eyes. Nice day.”

“Valid,” she shrugs. She’s holding hands with Jack, his little legs setting our pace much slower than my usual walk. I don’t mind.

“Right here’s good,” Jade points to an area of the park with green grass and enough space for a kid her brother’s age to play in. There’s a bench just across the concrete path from it.

Jack pulls her onto the grass, his ball in his other hand. “Go far,” he tells her.

She goes about five four away from him.

“Farther than that!”

Jade takes two more steps back. “We’ll start out here, okay?”

“Okay,” he says and throws her his ball.

It’s plastic ball the size of a softball. It’s not hallow, but it’s not too heavy to where it would hurt bad if one got hit with it.

She catches it and underhand- tosses it back. He catches it too. This goes on for a while, and I sit on the bench a small distance away from them. I brought two books to read while we’re here.

Eventually, Jade declares she is quitting the game of catch with her brother. He whines a bit, but she reminds him they’ve been playing for half an hour.

She takes a seat next to be on the bench, Jack sits in front of her on the ground, rolling his ball around.

“Whatcha reading?” Jade asks, looking over my shoulder curiously.

I close the book to show her the cover. She reads the title.

“It’s about a time traveler. Usually I read nonfiction, but the occasional Sci-fi or dark fantasy peeks my interested,” I tell her.

“Dark fantasy,” Jade smirks. “Sounds kinky.”

My face heats up, letting me know I’m definitely blushing which is a little embarrassing.

“N-not like that. Like Lord of the Rings,” I say.

“I know, Spence. I was teasing you,” she says with a little laugh.

“Right,” I give her an awkward laugh in return.

I’m still not exactly used to detecting sarcasm or teasing. I’ve gotten better at realizing when those two devices are being used, but occasionally, they’ll slip past me. Perks of being autistic (sarcasm). I’ve gotten pretty good at detecting mannerisms and reading unsubs, but somehow a joke will still fly over my head.

Jade grins, shaking her head. Her hair brushes my face briefly, and I involuntarily smell the shampoo she just used an hour and a half ago. It smells good. Oats and vanilla I believe.

She twirls her hair for a moment, the brown strands curling around her finger. In the natural lighting, I can see all the different colors in her hair. There’s chocolate brown, caramel, walnut, and even some mixtures of red where the sun shines on it. It’s pretty. It’s pretty and it smells good.

I snap out of my thoughts when Jack hops up from his seat. I’m relieved to have the kid release me from my thoughts. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like that. Even if it was just her hair, it’s still inappropriate.

—————

Jack pulls me back away from the bench.

“Piggy back ride,” he demands, but it’s kind of cute.

“You’re heavy.”

“Am not,” he says.

I roll my eyes, and bend down so he hand jump on. He does so excitedly, wrapping his arms around my neck.

I walk around with my brother on my back for a little bit until his short attention span is bored with me. Then he forces Spencer to give him a piggy back ride too.

It’s sweet watching the two of them together. Spencer’s good with kids. Better than I am and this one is my own brother.

I love Jack, I really do, but I was 17 when he was born, and it was weird to become a sister at that age. I was excited, of course, but still strange.

I also thought it was weird that my parents were having a baby at that age anyway. It’s not like they were old at all. In fact, Mom was only 35. But when it’s 17 years after your first, it’s a weird gap.

My mom and dad were young when they had me. Mom was 18 a freshman in college, and Dad was 20 and a junior. They’d been dating for three years already, but it’s safe to say I was not planned.

They didn’t let the unplanned baby ruin their plans for college though. Mom became a part time student instead, and both sets of my grandparents helped take care of me whenever needed.

Dad was still able to go to law school when I was three. I’m glad I didn’t ruin their lives completely. But Mom assured me I didn’t ruin it at all. She was honest when she said finding out about me was a minor set back, but she was also honest when she said they loved me no matter what.

Jack and Spencer play around, and I’m convinced to join in.

Eventually, I drive us back home. Jack lays down for a nap at 4, and at 7, I cook dinner instead of Spencer.

Eventually, I get Jack back into bed, but since he took his nap a little later, there was some resistance. Finally, at 11, he goes to bed. I make him promise he won’t tell Dad he went to bed that late, and he says he will if I get him ice cream tomorrow. I will be talking to Dad about why his child is a bargainer.

At midnight, I hear a weird sound from downstairs and go to scope it out.

I laugh softly when I see Spencer popping the popcorn I bought him a couple days ago.

“You weren’t kidding about the late night snack,” I grin, leaning against the kitchen counter.

He turns around, jumping a little. I scared him.

“I never kid about food, Jade,” he says and that makes me laugh a little more.

“Care to share?”

“Hmm,” he thinks for a moment. I scoff. “I suppose.”

“Want to watch a movie?” I ask him, not ready to go to bed.

He looks a little hesitant to say yes. Well, not really hesitant, but somehow nervous? “Yeah. Sounds good.”

five

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @crynroom @scarredelirium @reid1nspiration @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz <3

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #mgg angst #mgg fic #spencer reid and reader #spencer reid imagine #dilf spencerreid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x luke alvez #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x you #mgg fem!reader #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid series

[bengiyo]

A Boss and a Babe Ep 2 Stray Thoughts

Last time, this got off to a really solid start! I'm glad to have Force and Book back in roles I think work really well for them. It's also nice to see New Siwaj getting to work on a production with a solid pre- and post-production budget. We met Cher, a new intern at a gaming company. He catches the eye of the boss right away, and the two of them have bonded over the boss's love of ASMR and Cher's manic pixie dream boy persona. The rest of the coworkers are fun, and Fluke Pusit is romantically paired with another newbie named Ohm.

"Do you promise to video chat with me every night until I fall asleep?" Sir!!

These girls continuing to beef with Cher don't want this smoke!!

Love the call-out for BL fans who don't support queer issues.

I am a fan of 30+ year old queer perspectives entering the conversation lately. I am with Gun that we can't spend all day fighting every person talking shit about us, or we'd never get any rest. We also are subject to so many rude and invasive questions.

Love Cher. "I do dislike you, but not for gay reasons."

They always make Drake play antagonistic characters, but he's such a sweetheart.

Cher is like those white women on TikTok grabbing dangerous creatures and trying to help them while holding a phone with the other hand. Just insane levels of compassion with disregard for their own safety.

Gay people in love can indeed be insufferable, but it's still cute.

Okay, inviting the boss to dinner was a risk, but that was endearing. Gun seemed to genuinely enjoy seeing a gay couple be comfortably affectionate in front of their friends, and was not expecting Cher to feed him at all.

I'm with the friends. That whole thing with the boss was hella gay. Cher should understand what he's doing with his boss and proceed with his eyes open.

"You must talk to me before bed every night until I'm tired of you." Again, SIR!!

Interesting inclusion with Jack having mental health struggles, and Aoi choosing to respect his privacy.

Okay, Yard is genuinely funny as Aoi. Incredible screen presence. Reminds me of Justina Machado.

I like the way fond looks on Force.

What is up with people in Bangkok blocking each other in parking lots?

Book is really fantastic in this role. I'm having a lot of fun with Cher and Gun.

So, as a lonely queer, how do I get a manic pixie dream boy to show up and change my life??

Seriously, Force is doing so much work with his eyes in this show.

I also like the backing track for this balcony scene.

Force and Book have a really special chemistry. The neck grab, the "You can't control me," and Force's surprised arousal into a really solid first kiss delivers an incredibly satisfying scene. I really like this two a lot.

This is definitely the right comedown show after My School President. I was unsure about this, but I'm feeling like I'm regaining my center after the last 12 weeks of shows. This is such a satisfying experience on a Friday. Amazing how it feels like we got this because of these two clowns screaming, "FORCEBOOK FOREVER!!"

#a boss and a babe #a boss and a babe meta #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

[dearviper]

Certain Dark Things Epilogue

WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni!)

Table of Contents | My Masterlist

When you regained consciousness, you did not recognize your surroundings. The white walls and sharp scent of rubbing alcohol were unnerving, and you wanted to flee at once.

When you tried to stand, though, you were stopped by a restraint on your wrist. Glancing down, you found you were handcuffed to the rail of the bed you now realized you were laying in.

“Welcome back.”

Your head jerked up at the gruff voice, eyes not focusing on the black mass before you.

“Am I dead?” you croaked out unthinkingly.

“No. You’re not.”

Blinking slowly, you realized who you were talking to as the brain fog began to clear.

“You’re him, aren’t you?”

Batman did not answer, but you needed no confirmation.

Glancing down, you yanked at the handcuffs, trying to free your wrists.

“Those are just a precaution.”

“Please take them off,” you beseeched him, hysteria edging into your voice. “I- he had me tied down so much I just- please let me out.”

After a moment’s pause, Batman stood and headed for the door. At first you panicked even more, fearful that he would leave you restrained.

Instead, he rapped twice at the door. Another man entered, one with glasses and a kind, if tired, face.

“Uncuff her,” Batman said to his companion.

Despite the commanding nature of his words, they came off more like a request than a demand. The other man hesitated and regarded you suspiciously.

“Can I trust you not to do anything stupid?” he asked, eyeing you over the top of his glasses.

I don’t suppose I have to remind you not to do anything stupid? Edward’s words echoed in your mind.

Wincing, you nodded rapidly. “Yes, just please get these off.”

He removed the cuffs, and you rubbed your wrists to chase away the phantom feeling.

“I’m Lieutenant James Gordon of the GCPD. I don’t suppose I have to introduce him,” he said, jerking his head toward Batman.

“No,” you replied. “I’m-”

“We already know who you are,” Gordon revealed, passing you a newspaper and pointing to a front page headline below the fold.

KIDNAPPED BY THE RIDDLER! MISSING WAITRESS FOUND

“Care to tell us what you were doing in the Riddler’s apartment?”

You furrowed your brows, glancing back up at the lieutenant.

“He kidnapped me,” you said slowly, pointing to the paper. “Aren’t you a detective?”

There was a brief flash of a quirked lip on Batman’s face, but it disappeared so quickly that you were sure you had imagined it.

“Your old coworkers at the diner said Edward Nashton was a friend of yours prior to your disappearance.”

“He was,” you ground out. “But that ended pretty quickly after he abducted me and kept me prisoner for months on end.”

Gordon raised his hands in surrender to show he meant no harm. “I’m just doing my due diligence. Nashton has a pretty sizable following. We’ve only managed to track down a few of his accomplices so far.”

Has. Present tense. Edward was alive.

Watching Gordon with guarded eyes, you spoke again. “He can be very charismatic. He convinced them all-” Your eyes widened with horror as you suddenly remembered Edward’s plan. “He’s going to blow up the sea wall! You have to stop him, there are vans parked all around the city perimeter-”

You sat up rapidly, but Gordon held out a hand to stop your warning.

“It already happened.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Oh my god.”

Your vision began to swim, though you weren’t sure if it was from the tears now filling your eyes or the shock at the revelation that you were too late.

A firm, gloved hand reached out to steady you, while another held out a cup of water.

“Thank you,” you muttered to Batman after taking a long gulp. He gave an almost imperceptible nod in reply as he returned to his spot against the wall.

Gordon sighed, removing his glasses and running a hand over his exhausted face.

“You’ll need to give a statement eventually, but for now the doctors have cleared you to return home.”

“How-”

Just then, the door burst open. Marisol rushed into the room and flung her arms around you.

“Oh my god, you’re alive!” she sobbed gratefully, squeezing you with all her might. “I thought- I thought you-”

“I’m alright, Mari, but I’m gonna pass out if you don’t loosen up.”

Though she released you from her embrace, Marisol still kept her fingers wrapped around your arms. Her grip was tight, as if worried you might slip through her fingers and disappear again.

Just then, she caught sight of the two men in your room. Seemingly unfazed, she nodded to them.

“Lieutenant. Vengeance.”

“Miss Castillo,” Gordon nodded back to her. Batman remained silent. “I was just informing your friend here that the hospital is discharging her today.”

“Thank God for that,” Marisol muttered, giving you a concerned smile and rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. “It’ll be nice to sleep in your own bed for a change, right?”

You tensed up.

“Um, I… I actually don’t really want to be alone there right now. Edward had an apartment in that building too. I don’t know if any of his… fans knew about it.”

Gordon’s brows shot up as he and Batman shared a look. “That’s news to us.”

“That’s okay,” Marisol assured you quickly, distracting from Gordon’s words. “You can stay with me as long as you need. We’ll just stop by to get a few of your things.”

Turning to face the Lieutenant, she gave an assertive smile. “And I’m sure the GCPD would be more than happy to provide a police escort to ensure your safety.”

“More than happy,” he agreed with amusement. “So long as you point out Nashton’s apartment to us.”

Hesitantly, you nodded. “Alright. Sure.”

You exited the hospital with your motley entourage. The sun was hot on your skin despite the chill in the air.

Gordon led the group to his squad car. Seeing how you blanched at the cage partitioning the front and back seat, Gordon suggested you ride shotgun. That left Marisol and Batman in the back, and the whole car ride felt like the world’s strangest family road trip.

The drive from Gotham General Hospital was not an easy one. Most of the city was underwater, and Gordon had to switch routes every few streets to avoid the flooding.

Eventually, though, the car rolled to a stop in front of your apartment complex.

“You gonna be okay?” Gordon murmured lowly, though there was no privacy to be had in a car as small as this one.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, looking up at the looming building with trepidation.

Feeling like the head of a funeral procession, you led the three into the building and up the stairs.

Unable to even look at the door, you kept your eyes glued to the carpet as you gestured to Edward’s apartment.

“That’s his.”

While Batman and Gordon were occupied with entering Edward’s apartment (likely using some illicit methods, given that the door was most certainly locked), Marisol walked you down to yours.

When you reached the door, Marisol produced the spare set of keys you had given her when you first signed your lease.

“I knew you’d come back, so I kept them safe for you,” she explained, voice choked up with emotion as she handed them over.

Taking a steadying breath, you steeled yourself and pushed open the door. Stale air hit you as you entered, and you wrinkled your nose at the smell.

“Christ, you need to let some fresh air in here,” Marisol complained jokingly. “Do me a favor and open a window while you pack.”

Her jokes eased your tension, and you rolled your eyes. “Sure thing. Why don’t you do me a favor and empty out the fridge? I bet there’s a whole new ecosystem in there by now.”

She pulled a disgusted face but nodded. “Fine, but you only get a few freebies like this for being kidnapped.”

“You’re a saint,” you replied wryly before heading down the hall.

Your bedroom was just as you had left it, which you supposed was unsurprising. It wasn’t like Marisol would rearrange the furniture while you were gone.

You made a beeline for the window and pushed it open. Months of dust had accumulated on the ledge, and you wiped the grime off your hands and onto your hospital-provided scrubs.

Heading over to your closet, you dug through it until you found the large duffel bag you used for vacations. You lifted it up, about to place it on the edge of your bed.

As you did, you caught sight of something that made your breath catch.

Resting against your pillows was a green envelope with a pen-drawn heart scratched into the back.

You dropped the bag, all thoughts of packing having fled your mind, and slowly made your way over.

“You okay in there?” Marisol called from the living room, having heard the thump of the bag.

Your hands shook as you fearfully reached out to pick up the envelope. Slipping a finger under the edge, you peeled it open and pulled out the greeting card within.

The front was adorned with a cartoon cupid with hearts in the place of its eyes. Adrenaline pounding through your veins, you flicked open the card and let out a whimpering cry.

Hearing the noise, Marisol rushed into the room and found you sunk down against the wall, gasping sobs wracking your body as you stared at the card clutched in your trembling hand.

Unable to tear your eyes away, you read the message written in Edward’s uneven hand over and over again.

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Don’t worry, angel

I’m coming back for you!

previous chapter

#edward nashton x reader #edward nygma x reader #riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nygma #riddler #batman #paul dano #certain dark things

[smallraindrops-blog]

Some wmftd and hades 2 rambles I wanted to share:

Possible Hades 2 Spoilers !

Hypnos with long hair makes me imagine y/n learning how to braid his hair to make it a bit more manageable

Also I feel like seeing hypnos with his long hair would make y/n want to try growing out his beard (achilles sheds a tear when he sees it bc his son now looks like his pa)

Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage reminds me of y/n and hypnos in the pirate au

The amount of angst you could get if hypnos actually does fall into a sleeping coma in the second game 💀 (reminds me a lot of the part closer to the end of wmftd)

I wonder if achilles and patroclus will ever meet odysseus in the second game (how would y/n act if he met him lol)

Imagine y/n and hypnos babysitting baby melinoe when zagreus goes on his runs 🥹 (maybe that would spark their desire for their own children ?)

The wmftd brainrot is getting stronger every day, but I'm glad I stumbled upon this blog <3

AHHHH i love these, legit making me feral rn. Same on the brainrot, my friend. I’m happy you found this blog too <3

Placing my replies and a little short story under the readmore. <3

Y/N would definitely braid Hypnos’ hair for him. Also he wouldn’t be able to cope with how pretty Hypnos is with long hair. Like he totally gets tongue tied just looking at him. He is so fucking pretty.help.

OH AND THE BEARD

I actually hc that Y/N rocked a short beard while working as a fisherman. He was shaved by the time he died because beards are often used as a grapple point during fights so he knew better than to have one.

Until they showed us Skelly I wasn’t sure if Shades could change their form like growing their hair but it looks like they can. (If Skelly counts as a shade, I am not certain where the lines between shades and undead are drawn.) 

But anyway, yeah. Funny enough, I was wondering how to show how time passed for Y/N and was considering having him grow a beard anyway lol.

Achilles would love seeing his son with a beard, Pat too. They would probably joke about him actually being a long-long family member that Pat didn’t know about.

However if I think what happens in Hades 2 actually happens, Y/N will grow the beard while apart from Hypnos. (Thanks depression! 👍)

I haven't talked about it yet but I suspect that Y/N and Hypnos will end up losing each other during the chaos and he is either trapped, helping Hermes or otherwise unable to find Hypnos. He has no clue where Hypnos is and just wants to find him.

Looked up the song, and dude that is immediately going on the playlist. Thank you for introducing me to them.

yeah, def. I’m willing to bet the Hades dev.team had their reasons for Hypnos being comatose. What I hope is that Melinoe still likes Hypnos after he wakes up ( bonus point for everyone if she actually thinks he is the funniest person around)

I hope those met up! It would be like running into that one coworker you dislike while in the dairy section at the grocery store and they won’t shut up and leave you alone. ( i love all three of them, those adorable old war criminals <3)

AHHH. Baby Melinoe!

Baby Melinoe is baby fever on crack, i adore her and will happily fight an undead army for her.

I personally think Hypnos is someone who always wanted kids, especially since he is kinda a big kid himself and would be one of those parents who could play all kinds of silly games with their kids.

Kids were kinda never on Y/N’s radar. There was his own trauma, the war then being on the run. Maybe in a lavender marriage, he might have a kid or two but it wasn’t something he seeked out. Seeing how happy it made Hypnos definitely planted the seed for him. I like to think Y/N would actually be a natural parent with kids.

I can’t articulate my level of love for her so here you go, a wholesome short for making past my rambling lol 

(The short)

The news of Princess Melinoe’s arrival was a welcome one in the house of Hades. It was as if the whole house had transformed around the little princess, there was a warmth, a sense of love, to the house that wasn’t there before.

You were going over the newly increased list of security measures that Master Hades demanded and Queen Persephone had politely requested. You had implemented countless measures leading up to the birth and more afterward but there was always more work to be done.

“Oh look who I found, Princess!” Hypnos’ voice reached your ears and you looked up to see Hypnos grinning at you, the aforementioned Princess Melinoe in his arms. At your questioning glance, Hypnos explained that he was on babysitting duty. 

“Besides, I am way more fun than your older brother, huh?” Hypnos cooed at baby Melinoe, tickling under her chin. The baby girl cooed back in delighted, high pitch sounds that only a newborn could make, little bubbles forming her lips and down her chin.

Normally Hypnos was extremely fussy about his cloak but grabbing an edge of it, he just wiped Melinoe’s drool away without complaint, his smile never fading.

Then, he lifted an expected brow at you. You looked at the baby in Hypnos’ arms, happily blabbering away. You never been around kids, not really. You weren’t sure if the little princess could even see past her small nose. 

She looked tiny and precious. And very, very fragile.

Hypnos laughed quietly. “She isn’t scary, dearest. You can tell her ‘hello’.”

”Hello.” You told her. Her eyes widen, staring up at you with wide mismatched irises. As if she was realizing you were right there. She blinked slowly. 

”Try giving her your finger.” Hypnos encouraged, and after a moment of hesitation, you obeyed.

Princess Melinoe grabbed at your finger with considerable strength and simply held on, staring at you with a surprisingly serious expression, blabbering away in nonsense. 

You made the appropriate noises like you could understand her and repeated, ‘indeed, Princess.’ along with ‘you are definitely much smarter than your brother.’

A smile formed on your face without you noticing.

You didn’t see the soft way Hypnos glanced at you, realizing the quiet hope that was forming in his chest. When it was time for Hypnos to return Princess Melinoe to her mother, you didn’t know that Hypnos was already putting together a conversation to have with you later.

You never knew.

[stilettomafiosas]

while it's on my mind, I think I'm gonna be a little vulnerable (I typically don't post much personal stuff HAHA) and just talk a little bit about my personal relationship with making and sharing art as an autistic/schizophrenic person—

using the common metaphor, I DO very much feel like an alien or like I'm wearing masks and playing different roles—none of which are comfortable or actually me—every day. I have an extreme difficulty in connecting to people directly, regardless of how much I like the person or how much I wish to overcome that barrier. I don't connect to people or understand a lot of the typical tones, cues, suggestions, etc.

face-to-face? I don't even know when a conversation is over. people have to outright tell me to leave because I don't know when to go or when it's appropriate to say goodbye. I have no idea what the proper response to most things is. throughout my whole life, I've experienced the constant confusion of wondering why people question everything I do, or why people laugh every time I say something, no matter how serious I am. my family too! I can be on the verge of tears trying to confide something and they laugh, and upon being asked why, they cheerfully say they thought I was joking or that I'm very funny. I don't try to be funny! and I rarely crack jokes so it's odd that I've gotten that reputation.

if I'm not being laughed at, I'm being snubbed or insulted or written off as a jerk and I again have NO idea until someone finally explains that one of my reactions or expressions upset them and I never had a clue. one of my old coworkers wouldn't speak to me for days, and went around behind my back telling everyone else that I'm rude and hateful because—? I didn't speak to her every time she brushed by. context: I still greeted everyone in the morning because I know that's polite, but to me, it made sense to not address someone each time they dart by because it's distracting us both from the sensitive, calculation-heavy labwork we were doing. apparently that's not what everyone else thought LMAO. I was the odd one out.

people have gotten angry with me for not looking happy about a gift or excited about something and accused me of ruining their day, or that I didn't deserve the kindness because I wasn't grateful for it. I unfortunately DO have a flat affect irl and my expressions and tone never match what I feel or how intensely I feel it, so I can't fault them for being offended there, but it's another constant reminder that I don't entirely fit in and have to micromanage aspects of myself that a lot of people don't even have to think about. that's part of why I may seem a little too eager or enthusiastic in text sometimes LOL, I try to put extra effort into making SURE that my tone is as clear as possible!! removing body language and expressions from communication is difficult for a lot of people to begin with, and I don't want to add unnecessary doubt about what I mean when it's something I DO have full control over!

that to say this: I just do not feel like I belong ANYWHERE. are there people who feel the same way as i do? absolutely!! am I a unique experience? definitely not!! but in my personal life, I AM very much isolated and disconnected. I feel like there's no easy, comfortable, or safe way for me to reach out to others and just share little things that make us people. I can't chat about my day or hit people up or go hang out, and not for lack of wanting to—or trying. I love the people in my life and I'd gladly do anything I can to help them or be a listener, but that's as far as I've really been able to go.

so how do I connect and confide? ART. everyone shares art in an attempt to connect in some way or another, but to a drastically heightened degree for me. sharing art, particularly personal projects and extra-especially writing, is how I quietly try to talk to others. everyone starts a conversation with their art but that's generally the only conversation I have at all so it's SO SO so important to me

I could never just confide in someone or disclose personal things one-on-one, so I do that with my art and stories. it's literally the only way I get that stuff out in the open LOL. the stuff that's meaningful to me, stuff I think about a lot, things I'm afraid of, all of that is wrapped up in the characters I create and the stories I tell with them and any time I share some details I'm just like "hey!! does anyone understand!! can anyone hear me!!" I don't seek validation or praise for the mechanics of my art (though it's definitely valued and great encouraging and appreciated!!) I'm mostly desperate for an unspoken conversation or connection. that someone DOES understand and they DO hear me regardless of how quiet I am or how much I fumble with opening up. (even writing this is embarrassing HAHA. I don't even list my age or gender or the most basic/typical information, how am I supposed to talk about any of my THOUGHTS directly??)

but then again I also don't promote or advertise my stuff very much. I've got years worth of stories and mountains of writing that never see the light of day. a lot of people don't even know that I write at all lmao and that's totally on me: because it IS so deeply personal that it's sometimes scary to share it. I'm fortunate enough to have a career outside of my art so I don't rely on it to make a living and find it necessary to promote to an audience so I can pay bills. and I don't have any attachments to the fanart I make—I DO enjoy the stuff I make fanart for, but to me, it's only a vehicle of enthusiasm for me to make more art as practice to brush up on skills, and it isn't personal or something I deeply project on.

this is so disorganized, and I'll delete it later because I've never really talked about this, especially here, but yeah...!! in summary, I make art and write stories as a language, in a way to communicate with people and share thoughts that I normally can never ever do via a regular conversation, post, or rare stream-of-consciousness thing like this. LMAO. I want to connect to people, and be remembered, and understood, and being vulnerable in sharing stories is how I do that. I don't make things (outside of fanart at least) to be consumed, I make them to start a conversation—even if its entirely an internal one and I never know you even thought of it, I just want to inspire some manner of "hey, I get you! i understand what you're saying!! you're real and you aren't incapable of being a person because I see what you're trying to convey and I know exactly what you mean!! it's okay if you're distant and communicate in your own way because you still made me feel something!!"

it's a lonely experience. I'm happy to have finally gotten the diagnoses and explanations for why I feel some of these things, and while it's comforting to know why, living with it is no easier... but art is so special to me moreso now than ever :,)

#jpt #delete later