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#so we might as well do what we can to pass the time
barcaatthemoon · 3 days
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atlas || ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader ||
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mapi and ingrid help you relax after a rough week.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.
the physical and emotional weight of your workload was dragging you down. mapi was the first to realize it, and once she did, the first person she went to was ingrid. ingrid had a way of relaxing you that mapi knew she couldn't pull off. the woman had a tendency of being a little too energetic for that. however, it seemed that this time, ingrid couldn't really help you either.
they both hated it, but mapi and ingrid had no choice but to wait for all of you to be on a break to bring it up. a lot of things had been happening at barcelona, so you were very busy as social media director. your promotion had seemed like a blessing at first, especially since it meant that you could travel with your girlfriends everywhere that they went. however, all of that travel really cut into the time you had to organize everything else.
"i miss her," mapi sighed as she watched you fast asleep on the couch. it was obvious that you hadn't meant to fall asleep like that with your laptop and several notebooks open. you had been working, despite ingrid and mapi's insistence that you come with them out for the day. they had tried to have a good time, but mapi couldn't knowing that you were still in the apartment.
"it's been hard, especially on her. i mean, look at her," ingrid said as she nodded towards you. mapi let out a little whine as she looked at you. even in your sleep, the stress of your job was evident. they knew that this was temporary, mapi remembered when she first signed to barcelona years ago when you initially had been brought in as an intern. you always had a bit of a struggle starting out, but eventually, you'd find your footing.
"i could cry," mapi muttered quietly. ingrid had just barely heard her. if it was anybody other than you, ingrid would have been deleriously jealous of the way that mapi loved and cared for you. she knew that while mapi had been dating her for longer, you had been in her life longer. you were one of mapi's best friends first, and so, ingrid knew what to expect.
"we can let her sleep, and then do something special for her tonight," ingrid suggested. mapi nodded as she let ingrid pull her away from the living room. you slept the entire day away, waking up only when mapi physically picked you up and carried you into the dining room. you were still very tired as you ate, but the food did a lot to energize you a bit.
"what's the occasion?" you asked, not missing the way that both of your girlfriends were dressed up a bit more. mapi shrugged the question off as she tried to pretend that everything was normal. ingrid, however, was more than happy to give a reason for the little show.
"we are celebrating you, and all of the hard work you've been doing lately," ingrid said softly. she got up to carry your plate into the kitchen for you, kissing the top of your head as well as mapi's as she passed.
"i'm sorry if i haven't been very attentive," you apologized. mapi shook her head as she took your hands in hers. "i've been busy, and i know that you hate being left to your own devices. you need me too, not just the club."
"it's okay, i understand, i do. tonight, don't think about any of that. let ingrid and me take care of you, please bebita." if it wasn't for the way that mapi as looking at you, you might have gone back to your work for the night. "you've been working so hard."
"i'm so tired of it," you admitted. you sounded like you were on the verge of tears, so mapi did what she knew would help you calm down. she dropped your hands to grab your cheeks, pulling you in gently for a kiss. you kissed her back, moaning into it as you felt her deepen it. you sat forward in your seat, like you were prepared to crawl into her lap at any moment. the two of you could have kept going forever like that until ingrid interrupted you.
"come on, let's move this to the bedroom." ingrid guided the two of you away from the table. you broke the kiss with mapi once you were in ingrid's arms, turning your attention to her instead. ingrid picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, walking strong despite the kisses you were pressing to her neck. mapi followed behind ingrid, taking the opportunity to feel her up on the short walk to the bedroom.
ingrid laid you down on the bed gently, and mapi moved around her to get behind you. almost immediately, you could tell how the night would go. it was rare that they both focused solely on you, but you were grateful for the distraction. it wouldn't last forever, but they'd be taking a good amount of the weight of your work off from your shoulders from the night.
mapi's hands settled on your hips, squeezing gently as she peppered the side of your face in kisses. ingrid was laying between your legs, effectively pinning you against mapi's body as the two of them kissed you. it was a lot, but you were more than happy to just go along with whatever they wanted.
you trusted both women with your body completely. they knew the things that you liked, and sometimes, you swore they knew what you needed before you did. on your own, you would have tried to rush things, but they were taking things so slow with you. even mapi, who had a tendency to get a little ahead of herself in these situations.
they took their time undressing you and themselves. the feeling of their skin against yours made it hard for you to think. mapi could tell that you were having a hard time keeping up, so she backed away just enough for you to focus on ingrid. the taller woman kissed you slowly, but it wasn't without an almost overwhelming amount of emotion.
you didn't know how she did it, but ingrid always kissed you with her entire being. from every little peck as she left the apartment to the way she'd completely take your breath away. you swore that you could feel the love and concern ingrid had for you as she kissed you. it was enough for you to get a little lost in the feeling of her lips, but still gentle enough for you to easily slip away if you needed it. ingrid wouldn't judge you, knowing that occasionally you weren't up for this sort of thing when you were stressed.
"you look so pretty kissing ingrid," mapi whispered in your ear. she turned towards ingrid before she spoke up again, "you're taking such good care of our bebita, ingrid."
"i want more, please," you told them. mapi took that as her cue to come back a little more. her hands moved along your sides until you moved them onto your breasts. mapi's fingers teased your nipples as your hips ground against ingrid's thigh. ingrid bit her lip as she felt how wet you already were from just kissing them. it was going to be easy to get you to cum for the first time, and while ingrid wanted to spend all night between your legs, she wouldn't push you any further than what you could handle.
"do you want my fingers or my mouth, bebita?" ingrid asked you. she was usually adamant about not speaking spanish in the house, but that pet name had always stuck. technically, mapi had been calling you her bebita long before either of you had figured out your feelings for each other. ingrid remembered her hesitation about seeing mapi because of you, and in hindsight, she felt a little ridiculous about it now.
"mouth please," you answered. ingrid gave you one last kiss before she moved down to lay in between your legs. mapi turned your head towards her, pulling you into a gentle kiss as ingrid's hands came up to rest on the insides of your thighs.
unlike ingrid's kisses, mapi's rarely ever managed to stay as gentle as they started. the press of mapi's lips against yours quickly turned into something much firmer, not that you minded. you nipped at mapi's lip a little, which earned you a slightly rougher pinch to your nipple than before.
"mapi," ingrid warned. mapi's cheeks heated up at the warning. you bit your lip as she moved around your body to press a kiss to where she had just pinched you. ingrid watched as your hips bucked forward at the contact. she shot mapi a look, one urging for the tattooed woman to stay there until you pulled her back for more kisses.
"do you want this bebita?" mapi asked you. you could still feel enough of mapi's body behind you to feel safe and comfortable, but that need was quickly being replaced by the feel to feel both of their mouths on your body.
"please," you whined. mapi didn't need to be told twice, and she mvoed back in with her mouth at the same time as ingrid. mapi peppered your breasts with kisses as her fingers teased your nipples. ingrid's tongue was making lazy figure 8 motions in between your legs, just barely grazing along where you wanted her to. the two of them worked together well, almost perfectly in sync despite not having had to talk one another through anything.
"shh," mapi cooed softly as she lifted her head a little. the noises you were making quickly began to jumble together. you were whining and whimpering as you started to move more. ingrid didn't want to grab your hips and pin you down, so mapi took it upon herself to kiss you to calm you down. your nails scratched against the side of her face a little, but mapi didn't let it distract her from swallowing up every moan and whimper that threatened to escape from your lips. "you're doing so good, it's okay. let ingrid do her thing."
"fuck, fuck, fuck," you repeated again and again. mapi felt your body tense on top of hers, and that was when she knew you were gone. as loud as you could be while being fucked, you always went dead silent when you came. ingrid began to back away, stopping only when she heard you and mapi talking to each other. the little confessions of love after sex were secrectly mapi's favorite. if she was ever asked, you knew that she'd say something cocky about the way you looked cumming on her fingers or strap, but truthfully, she loved the way you curled into her as the two of you showered each other in love and adoration.
"rest now," ingrid said as she took the spot next to you on the bed. mapi slipped away to get something to clean you up with as you and ingrid lazily made out on the bed. you were so tired, enough so that you were ready to fall asleep right there in her arms. ingrid kept you awake and distracted enough for mapi to clean you up and pick out some clothes for all of you to wear to bed.
"thank you, i think i needed this," you mumbled against ingrid's chest. this time, ingrid laid in between you and mapi, both of you with your head resting against ingrid's chest. ingrid had one hand on mapi's back and the other in your hair, both of them scratching lightly. "i love you, both of you."
"we love you too," mapi told you. she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair around her finger.
"whenever you need us, don't hesitate to ask," ingrid said. you glanced up at her and smiled. you couldn't help it, there was rarely ever a time you could remember not smiling when you saw ingrid. "we'll always be here to take care of you, in whatever ways you need."
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ponderingmoonlight · 21 hours
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hi! how would gojo react to having a partner who struggles to walk sometimes (like needing a break if they’ve been up for too long or their legs randomly failing)
„I’m sorry, I need to sit down.“
You almost fail to understand your own words, ears ringing so violently that you feel like throwing up any given minute.
You’re weak. No matter how you twist and turn it, no matter how supportive your boyfriend is, you’ll always stay weak. Is it an illness, was it an accident? You can’t put a finger on it, mind occupied by nothing but shame and dizziness.
“Don’t apologize for that.”
His arm keeps you from falling over the bench you collapsed onto, holds you in place while you pray for your wobbly legs to regain their strength.
“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.
This definitely isn’t what the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime signed up for when he fell in love with you. No, you can’t even walk properly, legs failing you randomly from time to time. Your glossy eyes dart towards him, how he sits next to you with a gentle smile on his face. Well, Satoru doesn’t seem to mind.
But you do.
“Didn’t ya hear m-“
“I’m weak”, you finally blurt out.
Countless times, you put on a show for him, laughed it off when your body once again failed you. But you’ve had enough. Fuck, how much you prayed to be normal, that Shoko might be able to heal you. How are you supposed to be the girlfriend you want to be for him when you aren’t even able to walk a mile without almost breaking down?
“How dare you to say something like this about my girlfriend? She’s awesome”, he jokes gently while his arm holds onto your waist even tighter.
Not even his cute little jokes are enough to get you out of this hole today. You sink into yourself, hands covering your aching eyes. He deserves way better than that, someone who’s able to keep up with him, someone he doesn’t have to worry about? But you? Your throat gets tight with every passing second, tears glistening in your eyes.
You’re nothing but a loser.
“Hey, look at me.”
He doesn’t give you a choice. With a swift motion, he holds onto your chin, forces you to look up at him and reveal the shame of your tears. Will he even want you after seeing you like this?
“You’re not weak because your body can’t keep up, okay? You’re not a worse person because you need a break. If I had a sharp mind like yours, I’d literally sacrifice everything else. You are the love of my life, (y/n). And I know exactly that you’re tearing yourself apart with your dumb thoughts. You are great, okay? Fuck that little breaks from here and there. Man, I wouldn’t have noticed that goat standing right there between the trees if we didn’t take a break here. Like are you seeing this?”
A little giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it, eyes darting towards the animal.
“You’re right”, you breathe out.
“See? Now stop what you’re doing there and tell me when you’re ready to go again, okay?”
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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 days
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A Practical Demonstration Chapter 2- A Hands on Approach (Alastor/Reader)
Ao3 Link!
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Chapter 1 Chapter 3
Tags: Sex Toys; Non Sex-Repulsed Alastor; Reader-Insert; accidentally adding angst to porn
In the couple of weeks following your ‘practical demonstration’ for Alastor, all confidence you had in the glow of a mind blowing orgasm had bled from you- you had a few packages from VoxTech sitting unopened under your bed where you couldn’t see them or think about how hastily you had purchased them. You avoided being near Alastor when you could, eyes glued to the floor and face a matching accessory to his coat when you couldn’t escape or offer up a satisfactory excuse to leave the situation. 
He hadn’t asked anything of you since that night, thankfully. He seemed content to watch you blush and stammer and make eye contact with anything but himself, sometimes going out of his way to corner you by yourself and ask you how you were, how your research for Velvette was going, how you were sleeping at night; shit-eating grin always present and growing with every stuttered syllable you uttered. But he never mentioned that night, no inquiries about the rose toy or the others that he had spotted in your nightstand, despite his mention of being thorough about the various pieces of ‘technology’ you had in your possession. 
You were mortified, honestly, at how thoroughly you had misjudged the situation. Having thought that the Radio Demon was interested beyond his own self-proclaimed desire to know about the strange device was a hard hit to your self esteem, and a large part of why you were so determined to not be anywhere alone with him anymore. You couldn’t stand that kind of embarrassment again. 
“What do we have here?” Sitting at the bar while Husk poured you a drink, your phone is suddenly snatched out of your hands. “Ohhhh, ya got a date tonight, huh?” Using one pair of hands to hold you back, he uses the other to quickly swipe through some of your messages with Velvette. 
Despite your constant denial at wanting to meet anybody, Velvette had set you up with one of her models for a blind date. They were perfectly adequate, she had said, nothing like any of Val’s whores- you could see the way that Angel’s nose flared a bit when he saw that message- but hot, and it was the least she could do for all you’d done for her and for her shoots. 
(You were glad she at least had the sense to leave mention of your deal out of it, probably knowing how nosy Angel was and not wanting anything to get back to Val in passing.)
Husk manages to get the phone from Angel as he pulls up the photo of the model, and his exaggerated wolf whistle in your ear has your cheeks flaming. The cat gives your phone back to you while Angel hoots and calls for a couple shots for the two of you. “Babe, if I’d known ya were on the market I could have hooked ya up but I gotta say, Velvette’s got some good taste for you!” 
You roll your eyes. “I’m not ‘on the market,’” you tell him, “she just won’t take no for an answer. I’m meeting them for dinner this one time only, and-“
Husk drops a drink in front of you. “What’s the hold up?” He asks. “Why are you so against going out again? What if you two really hit it off?” He glances at Angel. “Sometimes it takes a time or two to really know someone and if you’re a good fit.”
Angel rolls his eyes. “Come on, sourpuss, you can just say you like me!” He tries to ruffle a hand into Husk’s fur, but the former bats him away. “Anyway, she’s already got the hots for someone- but if she's waiting for him though she might as well sow some oats if ya get my drift.” He winks at you, making a lewd gesture with his hands before you can huff and turn away. 
You down your drink in one go, Angel cheering you on, before announcing that you had to go get ready. Declining Angel’s offer to scour his room for something sexy, you just head to your own. 
Maybe he had been right though- after what happened with Alastor it was clear that he wasn’t as interested as you had assumed. Maybe going on a date with someone else would be good for you, help you get your mind off the Radio Demon and stop indulging in some pointless little crush that was just going to end with you getting your stupid feelings hurt. You supposed if this date went well there wasn’t any harm in planning for another one. As you opened the door to your room, you took another look at the picture of the model that Velvette had sent you. They really weren’t bad looking-
“Good evening!” Bringing your eyes up from your phone, Alastor is standing just inside the doorway of your room. While it’s no secret how he got in- ‘melting into the shadows’ isn’t a method of transportation you would assume to be hindered by doors- you wish you had some sort of warning before essentially walking into him. There’s a brief stumble before he places his hands on you, one under your own and the other on the small of your back as he rights you. “My apologies for the startle, dear, it seems I’ve given you a fright!”
“No problem,” you tell him, trying to take a step back and realizing he’s not yet released you. “It’s my bad, I should have knocked.”
“On your own door?” 
You flush. “Right, yeah.” You notice now how close you are to him, your bodies mere inches apart and one of his hands still protectively placed on your spine. “Either way, no harm done.”
He makes an affirmative noise before releasing you, and you kick the door closed as you step away from him to the closet. You pull some items from their hangers, tossing them onto the bed, and you can feel his crimson gaze on you as you move and try to decide what to wear for this dumb date. You take a deep breath before finally asking, “something that I can help you with?”
“Assuredly so!” Looking down at the pile of clothes you had amassed, you didn’t realize he had re-materialized next to you, and his voice so close to your ear was a shock. You trip over a skirt on the ground that had slid off the bed, landing hard on the ground as you stare up at Alastor. He holds out a hand to help you up which you gratefully take, allowing him to pull you to standing. 
He doesn’t release your hand, instead tugging you closer to him so your bodies are pressed against one another, closer than they had been when you nearly collided. “It’s in regards to our deal,” he says quietly, the whisper of his breath ghosting across your heated cheeks. He’s so close that you can smell his cologne, something woodsy and dark and so Alastor that your mouth nearly waters. 
“I have a date tonight,” is what you blurt out, your own voice a mere wisp in the space between the two of you.
He’s released you again and taken a couple steps back to sit on your bed. “Cancel it,” he says, and one of his shadows brings forth one of the VoxTech boxes from under your bed. “Terrible manners, of course, I do apologize for placing you in such an awkward position. But I’m afraid this simply cannot wait- you’ve quite the collection here, my dear, and we’ll need to start right away if we wish to proceed in a timely manner.”
Your head is spinning from how quickly he’s moved away from you again, and how quickly your night has taken a turn. “Right,” you say dazedly. “I guess I can, reschedule or something.” It wasn’t like you had really wanted to go anyway.
One of his eyes seems to twitch a bit. “Lovely,” he says, and crosses his legs at the knee. He pats the bed next to himself and gestures to the box he had placed there. “Whenever you’re ready.”
You couldn’t even remember what you had ordered as you shot off a text to Velvette- something came up, say sorry for me- and took the box in your hands, placing your phone on the stand next to you. You can’t look Alastor in the eyes as you manage to get it open and see what it was- a remote control vibrator, one that curves in such a way that it can stimulate the bundles of nerves both inside and outside the body. The remote is a tiny thing, an ‘on/off’ switch and two buttons for the different sections of the thing so you can have varying speeds on either spot. 
“Interesting,” Alastor says, and inspects the toy where you hold it in your hands. “I assume an item such as this works in a similar manner to the one from last time?” 
You nod, not sure if you’re hoping he will leave it at that or ask for another demonstration of the thing. “It’s very similar. Both ends vibrate rather than the, uh, suction on the last one.”
“I see,” he says, fingers steepled under his chin. “And is that more preferable to the suction?”
You take a deep breath. “It varies from person to person,” you say. 
“What do you prefer?”
In the span of a blink he’s in your personal space, his smile light and curious. “God, uh, I’m not sure,” you babble, intoxicated again by the smell of him. “The last, um, demonstration was the first time I’ve used anything with suction. But other people-“
“Quite frankly, my dear, I don’t give a fuck about other people.” The shock of hearing Alastor swear has you sucking in a sharp breath as he comes ever closer. His smile has taken on a dangerous edge, his eyes dark and lethal as they look you over. “My deal is with you- I wish to learn about the technology itself, of course, but how others use the things are of no concern to me. My concern is you, and how you are using devices made by my enemies.” His voice cracks around the static of the last word.
And fuck, if you hadn’t been aroused already, that would have sent you the rest of the way there on a bullet train. The single-minded focus in his gaze as he watched you was making you dizzy, your hands trembling slightly as you held the vibrator, remote discarded back into the box. 
“Right,” you say, instead of burying your face in the too-close junction between his chin and shoulder. “I guess I should…” you trail off, nodding vaguely at the object in your hands, and Alastor gives you a tight smile before leaning back out of your space to let you get to it.
Like last time, you don’t make eye contact as you remove your bottoms and lean back against the pillows. You’re aroused enough that you don’t need to use any additional lubrication, so you clench your eyes shut as you slide the long end of the vibrator into yourself, taking a moment to breathe and adjust as you do so. It settles into place, the opposite end curved in a way that it can rest gently against your clit, and you feel blindly for the box to get the remote out to turn it on.
“What a curious thing,” you hear Alastor say, and when you open your eyes he has the remote in his hands, rotating it to get a look from all angles. Your heart jumps into your throat as the implication, the possibility of his fingers pressing the buttons for you, out of your control. “Have you any idea why the remote is external from the device rather than part of it, like the other one was?”
You struggle to get your breathing under control. “I think it’s so you can have a… a partner or someone with you,” you tell him, earning you a raised eyebrow. “Some people really like the, you know, the idea of someone else being in charge of their pleasure.”
You could burst into flames with the heat of his gaze. He leans closer to you, one hand again coming to rest on your thigh like it had last time. “And what about you, darling? Is that something that interests you?” His grip on the remote is light in his free hand, easy enough to relinquish should you ask him to hand it over. But…
“I might enjoy it,” you whisper, “with the right partner.” You nod to the remote in his hand. “Sometimes a hands-on approach is needed to get more information.”
His smile is interrupted only by his exhale of breath before he presses the button to turn the device on, and your eyes slam shut as the sensations take over. In your quest to fist your fingers in the sheets you knock over the box that it came in, but you pay it no mind as Alastor toys with you, pressing the buttons for either end of the vibrator in a pattern that makes sense only to him, and that you can’t keep track of. 
Not that you want to. You’re already so in your head about the situation, not just another ‘demonstration’ but something that Alastor was actively participating in with that remote in his hand. It’s making you lightheaded with how turned on your are, and you nearly miss the next question he asks you from being so focused on your body.
“How intriguing,” he’s said, and you pry your eyes open to see what looks like a sleep mask dangling from a tendril of shadow. “What is this for?” 
“Some people- fuck -“ you interrupt yourself as he ratchets the vibrations a couple levels. Your breath is coming in short bursts as you fight to keep a clear head. “Some people like to have their, fuck, their eyes covered so they can’t see, what the other person is doing. I’ve never seen the appeal,” you add, anticipating his next question. 
He hums lightly to himself. “Are you quite sure? You do so frequently close your eyes in the throes of pleasure,” he says with a teasing lilt. “You don’t think that you would enjoy it?”
You shake your head on the pillow, your hair splayed out in a halo beneath you. “I don’t, God, I don’t know,” you mumble, and you hear his dark laughter before the lights in the room all snap off at once. 
Your heart stutters in your chest. You can’t see him, can’t see anything, and his comforting weight no longer seems to be perched on the edge of the bed. Were it not for the vibrator still buzzing inside you and kicking up another level, you might have thought he had left. You moan into the darkness, desperate for some sign that he was still with you, and are graced with his sharp claws dancing across your collarbone. Your eyes clench shut despite not being able to see anyway, in an effort to control yourself.
“What do you think, hm?” His touch vanishes only to reappear in the form of fingers brushing a couple errant strands of hair from your face. “Can you see the appeal now?” Again, his point of contact with you is gone.
“Not knowing where I am.” His voice comes from the opposite side of the bed, and you turn towards it with a gasp. 
Then from the foot of the bed- “Not able to see what I’m doing.” There’s a rustle of clothing- surely not his own , you think deliriously- before he’s back in your ear. 
“Not able to guess where I’ll touch you next.” His breath is hot against your ear and the vibrator has sped up again, a new pattern that has you letting loose a stream of curses as your hips move, chasing the feeling. One of his hands comes to rest on your hipbone, claws sinking just so into your flesh where he grips you. It takes a moment to realize he’s asked a question.
“What?”
“You must pay attention, darling, this is quite important.” He’s turned off whatever allows his voice to take on the radio quality. “I recognize that this has progressed beyond the means of a typical demonstration, so I must have your explicit consent. May I have your permission to touch you?”
“God, yes,” you groan, body tight with tension while you wait for his hands on you. They start where you don’t expect them, one placed lightly on the underside of your thigh and the other slowly starting to drift down your leg towards your upper body. He switches between his skin and his claws, swapping them out as he maps imaginary paths on your skin and across your navel, barely scratching you but the implication is there.
“So responsive,” he mutters. “Tell me- do you think your date tonight could have brought you to such a state?”
Your what ? 
Oh god, your blind date. Your eyes fly open to the nightstand where your phone is buzzing with missed calls and texts from Velvette. You had told her to apologize with no explanation, she might have been worried about you. You should really-
“Eyes on me, dear.” Somehow you’ve forgotten about the vibrator still buzzing happily inside you, so focused on Alastor’s hands on you that it slipped your mind until now- he’s kicked it up to the highest level yet, the feeling forcing a cry out of your mouth as your back arches. “And I believe I asked you a question.”
“Fuck,” you force out when you catch his gaze. His eyes are glowing, the only light available in the darkness, illuminating the dangerous curve of his smile as he looks down at you. “I don’t- I don’t know,” you get out, struggling to focus. You can feel the orgasm building, so much more intense than it had been last time, and he was right here with you, helping you through it .
“Come now,” he tuts at you, “that’s not very fair to your date. Have you no faith in them?”
“I barely know their name,” you groan out, the tension building, and you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow. You can’t stop your mouth from moving, despite your brain screaming at you to shut the fuck up before you say something stupid. “Something- something Velvette did- and fuck I didn’t even want them, I want - Alastor- ”
The tension breaks, your body tensing hard as you hit your release, his name falling out on a moan without permission from your brain. You’re distantly mortified at the thought of doing that a second time but you can’t focus on much else but the way that the pleasure in you is overtaking everything.
There’s a snarl and the sound of fabric ripping, the glow of Alastor’s eyes disappearing as you hit your peak. After a few brief moments of overstimulation the vibrations stop, and the lights come back on, Alastor’s shadows fading from the lamps.
He stands across the room, the remote for the vibrator placed on your desk. “Quite illuminating,” he says, and with the lights on you can see the thin sheen of sweat across his forehead, the way that his fists are clenched at his sides without his cane in them. He seems to be at a loss for words, something you’ve never seen before. He closes his eyes, swallows hard and gestures to your bed where you still rest on it. “I’ll be sure to send for a replacement as soon as I can.”
Following his gesture, you see the deep claw marks in the bed at your side, torn straight through the duvet and sheets and straight into the mattress. There are feathers and bits of thread and fabric still floating in the air from the force with which he had apparently dragged his talons across and into the bed.
Your brows furrow as you look back at him. “How-”
“I’m not sure a ‘hand-on approach’ is something that I can be part of going forward,” he says tightly. 
Your heart thuds painfully in your chest as you watch him, sure that this will be the end of it. You’ll go back to normal demonstrations of normal technology and largely being vaguely cordial with one another- the way you have been since you made the deal. It used to be enough, but you’ve had this taste now of something more, of him , and you’re not sure that you can go back to how it used to be.
“Darling.” At the sound of his voice you look back up at him, eyes glowing and his smile strained. “I’m sure that you understand this is for your own safety.” He glances at the gash across the bedsheets. “I had assumed that I was more in control of my own emotions. Clearly I am not- I will not risk the next thing I shred in a moment of weakness being your flesh.”
Leaning to sit up from the bed you wince at the shape of the vibrator still inside you. Blush staining your cheeks you remove it, pulling on your bottoms from the floor as you try to approach him. “Alastor, wait,” you say, but before you can reach out to grab his arm he’s re-materialized by the door.
The upturn of his lips now is forlorn as he watches you. “I believe it best that we go back to our initial arrangement,” he says. “I shall let you know when or if I need any further demonstrations.” With that he fades into the floor, the lights flickering as he vanishes.
With a cry of frustration you grab the remote off the desk and chuck it at the wall, where it splinters into little plastic pieces.
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nyoomiin · 3 days
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roommates: part three.
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your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
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pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
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prev. masterlist. next.
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“Me?” the boy asks hesitantly, glancing toward his companion for help.
Niwa — right, that was his name — laughs, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and pushing him forward. “You're scaring him, my dear.”
You roll your eyes at your friend, then give the boy another cursory once-over. You were right. He'd be perfect for the garment you were designing. Beckoning him over, you grin at him as you lead him into your fitting room. “I have just the thing for you! Let me take your measurements first, then I'll tailor the clothes to fit. Niwa, I'll give you a discount only because you brought this angel here.”
“Hah! You're the best.”
Shaking your head with a fond smile, you turn toward the boy. He looked nervous, fiddling with the hem of his sleeves, but no matter — it was time to get to work.
You blink, rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to clear your mind, trying to recall the dream you just had. Yet try as you might, it slips from your grasp, the faint trace of nostalgia slipping away with the breeze.
It was blue, you think.
And that's when inspiration struck.
"It's perfect,” you murmur, holding up the finished product in your hands.
A soft, silky shawl of blues and teals, dusted with a faint shimmer — an olive branch for your roommate, so to speak. Honestly, you were getting pretty tired of him wearing the same outfit almost daily, and what better gift than one handmade?
He'd look positively angelic in it, you think. You only hope he doesn't slam the door in your face before you could give it to him. You huff. He had better like it. You hadn't rushed your commission and put all that effort into the shawl for nothing. Not to mention, the materials you used were nothing but the highest of quality. Hmph.
“What do you want?” comes his gruff response to your knock on his door.
At the very least, he wasn't outright ignoring you like he used to do a week ago. You grin, even if he can't see it. "I have something for you! It's handmade. Come and take a look at it at least. Pretty please?”
It's silent.
A minute passes, then two.
You sigh, turning away in defeat. Another day, then. Though at this rate, that day might never come at all… Well, you hadn't put in all that effort just to give up now.
"I'll leave it here by the door,” you call. Just for good measure, you give the door another rap to be sure you still had his attention. "I don't care what you do with it as long as it's not still here by tomorrow morning. Have a good night!”
You turn away to leave, but this time, it's with a petty, stubborn resolve. One way or another, he would be your friend. He had to.
(His hands ghost over the shawl, fingers trembling.
It's soft, he notes, and every thread carefully woven. The design embroidered on its edges is undeniably Sumerian, but he can tell its maker is undeniably you.
And his heart thrums, loud in his ears and suffocating in his chest. It's infuriating.
This version of you is not the same as the version of the past he had known — that he cannot refute. Yet from your smile to your needlework, down to the way you'd leave him a warm bowl of soup — how could you not be one and the same?
He sets the shawl back down into the box it had come in, only to notice a piece of paper at its bottom.
This is for you, it reads. I think we got off on the wrong start that day, so I made this for you to make up for it. I hope you like it.
He scoffs, amused at your attempts to befriend him. It had worked on him then, when he had been clueless and naive and far too trusting, but fat chance it would work on him now. You don’t even remember him, for fuck's sake.
Still, he thinks, perhaps he should indulge you just the once. For old time's sake.)
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taglist. (send an ask to be added.)
@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi
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cillmequick · 3 days
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Contrary to what the rest of my blog might seem, this is still a Cillian Murphy blog and not a Slow Horses one 😂 But if you’re interested I’m having a tiny Slow Horses/Jack Lowden hyperfixate and you can read some smutty fun with him HERE 😉 Anyway, here’s what most of you came here for - enjoy! 🤭 Remember, comments are love 🤍
Summary: With Cillian back in America again, Mrs M is back home in Dublin dealing with Eoin’s move alone and the various emotional challenges this presents.
Warnings: None really except the difficulties of shared parental arrangements and dealing with the ex when your husband is away.
Word count: 2742 PART 8 | SERIES
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ix. Tuesday 20 February
In her little attic office, Y/N was doing her best to focus on the plans for one of her author’s upcoming book tours. Yawning widely for the third time in as many minutes, she sighed, pushing her chair back and gathering her coffee cup. Shoving her phone in her pocket she trudged down to the kitchen in search of more caffeinated motivation.
Hangovers over the age of forty really were no joke. They had both felt like shit the day before - the high of his win giving way to regret over forgetting that they weren’t young enough to party and then stay up fucking until nearly 2am. It had been all she could do to get herself on her short Ryanair flight back to Dublin whilst he went to sleep it off on his first class flatbed trip to New York.
Closing her eyes, she leaned heavily against the kitchen counter as she waited for it to brew. Her phone vibrated against her bum and she groaned, only opening her eyes when she had fished it from her pocket.
Aoife’s name leapt off the screen, jolting her back to wakefulness.
Eoin says he’s spoken to you about moving in today. Can you come and pick up his stuff later on? Or do you need me to bring it round?
Hello to you too, Y/N snarked in her head and then immediately kicked herself for being tired and grumpy and unkind.
Hi - yes he has. No problem, I can come and get it. What time suits best?
The ticks turned blue but nothing happened. She sighed, stirring a sugar into her drink, wincing against the heat as she took a sip.
Whenever works for you.
She winced again, this time at the forced civility between them.
*****
At the usual time that afternoon, Eoin came clattering in through the front door, sending the dog into a pitter patter of excited barking.
“Hello?” he called, wandering through towards the kitchen, Scout bouncing along next to him.
“M’in here,” she mumbled back, pouring milk into his drink.
He stopped fussing Scout to look at her, chuckling.
“Late night was it on Sunday?”
She threw him a look and he grinned.
“A little tired and emotional are we, step-mother?”
She gave him the finger as she passed him his mug, settling on one of the stools by the island.
“One day you’ll be as decrepit as me and you’ll understand.”
“Still can’t believe you cried on national telly.”
She rolled her eyes, reaching down to pet the dog who had come to hover by her knees, heavy tail thumping against the cupboards. In solidarity she might hope, but it probably had more to do with the fact that she was the one with the biscuits. Breaking off a corner of one without chocolate, she slipped it to him, much to his delight.
“Well that’s your father, isn’t it? Always driving me to tears.”
He nodded sagely in sympathy before they both cracked into smiles.
“Your mum texted - she wants to know when I’m coming to get your stuff. What do you want to do?”
He shrugged in the manner of all teenage boys everywhere.
“We can go now, or wait til later?”
“Might as well get it done.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll tell her now.”
“Alright, well get that down you and we’ll go. I just need to check some emails quickly first.”
*****
Being in Aoife’s house was always a strange and slightly awkward experience for Y/N. Mercifully, Aoife was still at work, so she had managed to avoid any immediate weirdness and having to behave like a grown up in her exhausted state. But being in this place that used to belong to her husband was always a little surreal. She found it hard to picture him in these surroundings - everything so neat and orderly. So pale and pastel.
Their own house was awash with colour and light and chaos. Dog toys, and manuscripts in haphazard piles, books that refused to be contained by their shelves, fighting for space against his uncontrollable music collections. Cheerful bunches of bright, fresh flowers and always music filtering from some part of the building.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything down?” she called up from the hallway, fidgeting with her wedding rings.
He appeared at the top of the stairs, dark head barely visible above a pile of belongings in his arms.
“Nah, only one more bag after this lot,” he replied, voice muffled as he used his chin to stop a book from sliding away.
She sent him back in for the last of it as she tried packing the latest pile into the boot, grateful she’d been clever enough to bring the bigger of their cars - it would have been a mission with the Mini. Apparently, although the kids kept a lot of stuff at their house, there was a real difference between the place they stayed for weekends and the home they lived in most of the time. Bags of clothes, books, games and whatever else teenage boys require (something she didn’t want to delve into too deeply) were crammed into the boot.
“That’s it,” he announced with a slightly breathless huff, a last holdall thudding to the ground.
“It’ll have to go in the back - I think this is full.”
He was just shoving it into the back seat when Aoife’s car pulled in.
Fuck… cursed Y/N in her head, pasting on a neutral smile. She was too tired for a fight.
“Hiya,” she called as the slight woman got out of her car, running her fingers through her straight blonde hair.
“Hi.” She smiled tightly, turning her attention to her son. “Have you got everything?”
He shrugged, hands shoved deep in his pockets in a manner uncannily like his father. “Think so.”
“It’s not like you won’t be back very soon,” smiled Y/N and Aoife glanced at her, nodding a little uncertainly.
“Cillian says you’re going to LA at the weekend?”
Oh had he? How kind of him… she made a mental note to kick him for dropping her in it.
“It’s the SAG awards - I wasn’t going to but..” She waved her hand, not really wanting to explain their recent difficulties to his ex. “He wanted someone there.” She tried to laugh it off. “You know, the delicate egos of actors, they need the reassurance.”
Aoife frowned and she babbled to recover the situation. “I mean, I want to be there of course - it’s so lovely and exciting that he’s getting the recognition he deserves.”
Eoin shot her a look and she stuttered to a stop, warmth flooding to her cheeks.
“Yes. It is,” said Aoife quietly, expression unreadable, eyes distant. “He should be very proud - he’s earned it.”
Slightly taken aback by her softness, Y/N was lost for words and Eoin cleared his throat.
“We should get going - I need to go and meet Finn soon.”
Aoife nodded, blinking back into the present. “See you next weekend then.”
Y/N could see a brightness in her lashline as she moved to try and give him a hug, and quietly got into the car, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.
*****
She’d brought her laptop downstairs, trying to work whilst also making a start on dinner - something that meant she did neither particularly effectively - when the door opened again.
How strange to have people in the house and not just herself in the evening. It had been weeks since Cillian had been properly home during the week, and not just crashing in London.
“Hiya,” she called distractedly, hissing as she almost chopped her finger instead of an onion because she was reading an email.
“Hiya.”
She whirled around sucking her finger, surprised to find her youngest step-son in her kitchen.
“What are you doing here??”
“Well that’s nice. I can go if you want?” he grinned, coming to give her a hug. “Can I stay for tea?” His older brother appeared behind him, catching her look of concern over Finn’s shoulder.
“I asked mum and she said if it was ok with you then it’s fine.”
“Of course it’s ok with me, it’s lovely to see you.”
“Do you want me to take the dog for a walk?” asked Eoin, Scout immediately perking up at the W-A-L-K word.
“I think we agreed that was your job til Dad gets back, yes,” she grinned. “Are you going with him?” she asked Finn who was fidgeting slightly beside her.
“I think I’ll stay here - it’s raining.”
Eoin rolled his eyes and disappeared off to gather Scout’s lead.
“Put the coat on him - I don’t have the energy to bath him tonight!” Y/N called after him.
“You alright, love?” she asked more quietly as the front door banged shut, pushing her laptop closed and returning to chopping veg, with slightly more care for her appendages. Finn shrugged and shuffled over to get himself a glass of water. She didn’t fill the silence, she just kept quietly chopping, letting him come to her, if he wanted to.
“How come Eoin gets to come and live here but I don’t..?”
Ah, there it was. She’d wondered if this might be coming.
“Do you like… want him here more than me or something..?” His voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. A quiet fragment of his younger self.
She stopped abruptly, the knife dropping to the chopping board.
“Of course not - not in a million years.” She pulled him into a hug, having to make do with him resting his chin on her head because even at fourteen (almost fifteen) he was already much taller than her.
“Dad and I love you - both of you - so, so much.”
“So why does he get to live here and I don’t?”
She drew back so she could look at him, running a hand over his light brown hair, pushing it out of his eyes.
“Because what Eoin needs right now is a change so he can focus on his exams.”
Finn nodded slightly. “He and mum fight a lot.”
Y/N smoothed her hand over his shoulder. “That’s what happens sometimes - you should have seen me and my mum when I was your age. But it didn’t mean I didn’t love her. And so for right now, since he has the choice to have a slightly different living arrangement, this makes sense. But just because it makes sense for him, doesn’t mean it would be right for you too.”
“But if I wanted to, I could..?”
She eyed him seriously. “Do you want to live here..?”
He shrugged slightly but his eyes slipped away.
“Sweetheart, if you really wanted to, then Dad would need to have a chat with your mum. But this is your home, just as much as Mum’s house, ok? Always will be. It just might be a bit more complicated…”
“‘Cause of the legal stuff?”
She nodded, leaning back against the counter. “Doesn’t mean it couldn’t be done, it’s just not really a thing we had to look into because Eoin’s older. So the truth is that I don’t really know what would have to be done, if anything.” She shrugged. “It’s all unchartered territory for us.”
“And if I want to stay with mum that’s ok though?”
“Of course it is. It’s not like it’s a competition where whoever you live with you love more. Love doesn’t work like that - there’s enough to go round. All we care about is that both of you are happy.”
He nodded, absorbing this thoughtfully, contemplating his socks for a moment. Eventually he looked up and she braced herself for more.
“Can I play Xbox til dinner?”
She rolled her eyes and went back to the chopping board.
“Not if you haven’t done your homework yet.”
He huffed loudly and she turned. “Oi, if you were at Mum’s you’d be doing your homework and not playing games. Same rules apply here mister.”
“Fine,” he sighed, managing to put several more syllables into the four letter word than usually existed.
“You can do it down here and I’ll help if you like.”
He disappeared to the hallway, returning with his school bag and slumped down at the kitchen table.
“What’ve you got?”
“Maths,” he intoned dully, thumping books onto the table as though they had personally offended him.
Shit, Y/N thought, maths being her definite weak spot. Where the fuck was Cillian when she needed him?
*****
Leaving Eoin unpacking his stuff, she drove Finn back round to Aoife’s later that evening. As she parked up and he wrestled with his many bags from the boot, the front door opened, light and warmth spilling out into the chilly evening.
Seeing Aoife at the door, Y/N got out - not wanting to be considered rude - pulling her hood up against the light drizzle that had begun again. She followed Finn as he clattered towards the house, fixing a smile on her face.
“Hi mum, night Y/N,” he grinned, waving awkwardly under his belongings.
“Night kiddo,” she replied as Aoife shifted aside to let him in and he disappeared into the house without a further backwards glance.
“Sorry it’s probably a bit later than expected - maths homework took longer than anticipated,” she apologised hurriedly. “Anyway, it’s freezing so I’ll let you get in.”
She turned to go but Aoife’s quiet voice stopped her.
“Y/N..?” She waited, seeing the other woman’s hands twisting awkwardly in front of her. Finally she looked up properly and met Y/N’s eye. “Is he..?”
“He’s fine,” she smiled. “Unpacking as we speak.”
Aoife nodded, a sad smile just twitching her lips.
“Look, Aoife, I’m sorry. I know how hard this must be and I’m so sorry it happened like it did. He came to me and I didn’t know what else to say except that we’d discuss it. And for what it’s worth, Cill didn’t want to ask you about it over the phone. But he’s not here again for another week at least and it didn’t seem fair to leave Eoin hanging like that.. but I’m sorry… And I promise we’ll make sure he focuses and works hard…”
She petered out, fearing she may have overstepped.
“I know,” replied Aoife softly, arms folding around her middle. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
Y/N frowned, hugging herself too, more for warmth than comfort, wishing she’d brought her gloves.
“It really isn’t.”
“No it is. I know what I’m like sometimes.”
Y/N stepped a little closer and shook her head. “He’s a teenager, Eef. It’s just hormones and teenage angst. He loves the bones of you, I promise. This is just..” she cast her hand through the air, “something he thinks he needs right now. It’s not anyone’s fault.”
Aoife eyed her carefully and again, Y/N quailed slightly under her pale blue stare.
“You’re doing a lot of this on your own at the moment, aren’t you?”
Whatever she’d expected Aoife to say, that certainly wasn’t it but she nodded.
“It just is what it is right now,” she shrugged. “We just have to get to the far side of Oscars weekend and it’ll go back to normal.”
“I thought that too, or at least a version of it without the Oscars,” replied Aoife quietly. “Be careful.”
Y/N compressed her lips and bit back the irritation that threatened to unleash itself from her tongue. She knew she probably meant well.
Didn’t she?
“Nothing to worry about,” she forced a smile. “Just one of those things.” Aoife studied her and she blew out a breath, clouding the air in front of her. “Anyway, I better run before we both freeze to death out here.”
The other woman seemed to rouse herself, shaking her head slightly. “Yes, of course. Sorry. Thanks for feeding them and dropping him back. Night.”
Y/N waved a quick goodbye and hurried back to the car, wasting no time in getting the heaters running and pulling away from Aoife’s gate.
As the dark streets slipped by she gripped the steering wheel and fumed quietly. She would not let Aoife Carmichael get in her head. Hadn’t Cillian himself said he could see the signs and taken steps to make it up to her? Their marriage was nothing like his previous one.
Was it?
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Ooooh…. not sure she’s entirely succeeding in not letting Aoife get to her, is she? 🙈 I live for your feedback so please do come at me in all the usual ways my loves 🤍 xxx
Masterlists: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN
There’s oodles more content for this family in the Lockdown list above - enjoy!
Tag list: @runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @garrison-girl-08 , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercupsandboys , @notyour-valentine , @elliotshelbyjones , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4-deactivated20231226 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @blondie-22 , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @emotionalcadaver , @brummiereader , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @forgottenpeakywriter , @kittycatcait219 , @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey (unable to tag) , @rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel (unable to tag) , @ayomurphys , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @scorpiussage , @cillixn , @esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm , @duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @cillmeslowly , @kmc1989 , @nela-cutie , @magicalmushroom0 (unable to tag) , @86luvrs (unable to tag) , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky (unable to tag) , @lunarubra
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archer-kacey · 3 days
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Shawn Flynn (Analysis)
Let's talk about my favorite JDS weirdo!
We first hear Shawn's voice in Bendy and the Ink Machine, but Joey also mentions him in Illusion of Living in passing.
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Joey mentions two things here, firstly that Shawn does "an excellent job." I know Joey lies more than a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, but considering the fact that JDS is held together with duct tape and rubber bands, I'm inclined to believe him here. After all, how the hell could they keep up with demands (so much so that the Alice dolls were overstocked) if the foreman fucked off constantly.
Joey also says that Shawn's "creativity knows no bounds." Makes sense for his position, but also helps confirm that Joey does think highly of him in terms of his work. On a personal level, though, maybe not so much.
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Based on Joey's insistence for perfection, we can infer that Shawn, like many, was just trying to do his damn job, and Joey blew his lid when things weren't exactly to his liking.
Shawn also mentions that the Alice merchandise wasn't selling well, and offhandedly proposes that they may have to melt the remaining stock down in order to get rid of it. Pretty self-explanatory tape, all things considered.
(The Bendy Wiki also mentions that he has a Dublin accent. I am not at all an expert on ANYTHING Irish but I did find out that Jacksepticeye is from Offaly, Ireland (Midland/East Ireland) and Dublin is also part of East Ireland, so...I'm assuming this is correct.)
There is also an easter egg with the Seeing Tool in BATIM written over Shawn's audio log, though this is mostly a nod to his voice actor.
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Anyway, onto Boris and the Dark Survival.
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In BATDS, Shawn mentions that he bought a new belt, (a one-of-a-kind toolbelt apparently,) and it was stolen immediately the next day. The perpetrator was a Gent employee, and they very brazenly wore it around right after stealing it. We aren't sure who this employee is, that's mostly speculation. But I don't think that's the point- this odd anecdote represents some of the first seeds of distrust being sown between JDS and Gent employees.
This brings us to Dark Revival.
Funnily enough, I find Shawn's departure from the studio much more interesting than his actual time employed there.
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Firstly, Shawn mentions that Joey took it well when he decided to leave. Between the shift towards Gent's experiments and new technology, the funding from Gent, and the sudden irrelevance of having Bendy merch going out in droves, it's possible that Joey just didn't care.
Shawn also seems to give zero fucks about Joey's opinion, based on his Dark Revival and Bendy audio logs, which I find fucking hilarious. Not the first disgruntled employee, but certainly the most confident when faced with Joey himself.
He mentions wanting to find a cabin upstate, see some open sky, and start anew with his family. Overall it seems like leaving JDS gave him a more hopeful lens on life.
But the MOST headscratching thing about his parting audio log is the last few lines;
"But before I go, I've made one last toy. A little parting present for the factory lads. Let's see how long it takes them to find it."
We never hear from Shawn again, so we have NO IDEA WHAT THIS MEANS LMAO. Leave it to Shawn to be mysterious for no apparent reason.
However, there is a possible connection to be made. In the Heavenly Toys area, there's a factory output sheet slapped on one of the walls.
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The last column mentions a "Bendy Starface Stuffed Toy", which we've never seen presently. There was only one ever made, and after that it was immediately discontinued.
I don't know why it would be listed at all if Shawn did leave the Starface Bendy as a gift, so this may all be a dead end. (I'm also aware that this might be a "Scarface" reference, although I really don't know what that has to do with anything.) Regardless, I find it a weird coincidence that Shawn left a single toy behind, and Starface also seems to be a completely unique Bendy toy.
TL;DR Shawn Flynn is cool and might have left an Among Us plushie at the studio for his co-workers
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talewrites · 2 days
Text
Fragile Part 3
Help I rewrote this part like 3 times 😅
Generation: Bayverse TMNT
Tmnt x Reader Fanfic
Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’)
Warnings: injury, mentions of torture, wholesome dad time, not proof read
Part 1 Part 2
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Morning came slowly in a warm wash of soft blankets and clean sheets. You thought you might still be dreaming. Closing your eyes you begged to savor the moment you felt in safety and comfort.
Time passed, and you became confused, and then anxious. You slowly opened your eyes and found yourself looking around a traditionally Japanese styled room.
You sat up slowly and felt the melted ice pack slide off your shoulder into your lap. Then the memory of the previous day returned to you, along with all the aches and pains. You felt the bruising in your shoulder, the sore scrape on your knee, the deep burning cuts on the bottom of your feet. And a headache that felt akin to a bad hangover.
But none of that mattered to you. In this moment, you reveled in your freedom. You were not locked in a glass cage. Your every move was not being watched. You were not held down and-.
You stopped your train of thought. Unwilling to allow yourself to relive those memories again.
Your eyes traveled around the room, taking in the decor, and you spotted the glass of water left for you hours before. Gingerly, you scoot over to it and took it, downing most of the glass in a few gulps. That seemed to give you renewed energy.
Then in the dark room, you noticed that a light was still on in the lair. It’s warm glow filtering in from under the tapestry hanging in the doorway.
You pulled yourself to the edge of your bed and slowly, quietly, stood, supporting yourself with a hand on the desk. It took a few long minutes of swaying to feel confidence in your balance again. But when you were ready, you took a step. Then another. And another. Your feet burned, and you flinched every other step, but you slowly made your way to the room’s entrance.
Your fingertips found the edge of the drapes and you peeked out into the main room. The light seemed to be coming from the small kitchen. Then the sound of quiet steady snoring from the living room caught your attention, where you spotted a bald green head peaking out from the edge of the arm rest.
The new space made you feel a rush of excitement. You couldn’t remember the last time you had the freedom to leave your room. Then your stomach rumbled, and you realized with surprised clarity that you were probably starving. You didn’t want to wake up Leo, or bother any of these newly met mutants just for food. But some movement in the dimly lit kitchen caught your attention. Curious, you took a careful step out into the dark room.
“Well now, what do we have here?”
You were startled so badly you lost your balance as your knees buckled under you. You looked up quickly from your spot on the floor and found a wise old looking rat mutant gazing at you, stroking his long beard.
“Even injured, you move with the silence and grace of a ninja.” The mysterious old man observed. You looked up at him puzzled, a small blush creeping across your cheeks. You reached for the door frame to help pull yourself up on wobbly legs, then the old man offered you a hand. You looked him in the eye and found no deception, before timidly reaching out and taking his hand.
“Come, you must be hungry.” He said warmly. He felt, fatherly in a way. His hand offered you support as you walked together slowly to the kitchen.
“Huh? Oh! You’re up!” The cheerful orange mutant greeted you. He saw you slowly walking in with the assistance of his father, and quickly looked between the two of you nervously.
“Uuuuuuhhhh, hey dad! This is- well-“ he stammered. The old rat held up a hand to the young turtle asking for his silence.
“I understand we have a guest. We can save the questions for after tea.”
“Right! Right. And pancakes!!!”
Mikey rushed over and took over from his father, helped you into a chair. The old rat took a seat across from you.
“I see you have met my sons.”
You paused a moment, then nodded.
“A-are there…. Others here too…?” It took you a moment to find your voice.
“Others like us? No. Though we have a few human friends that come to visit from time to time.”
You nodded thoughtfully, wondering what kind of people they kept as friends.
Mikey had busied himself mixing pancake batter in a large bowl, humming a tune. The kitchen was a bit of a mess, and there were some dried stains on the old wooden table. You were surprised that the stench of the sewer didn’t seem to reach their home.
Home.
That was a word you had greatly missed. People lived here. This was a family. A family of mutants that had carved out a safe place for themselves far away from some sterile laboratory.
The kettle on the stove began to whistle, and you heard a groan from over on the couch. Leo must be waking up.
Splinter stood and attended to the tea pot, pulling out an extra cup from the cupboard. You took a deep breath and breathed in the aromatic scent, feeling your tense shoulders begin to relax.
“Here, this should calm your nerves.” He said as he poured you a hot cup of tea.
You took the offered cup and held it in your hands, letting the warmth seep into your bones. You saw your warped reflection in the brown liquid, and felt a strange wave of emotion wash over you. Quietly, you took a small sip of the tea, the earthy bitter taste warmed you from the inside out.
The smallest hint of a smile pulled at the edges of your lips, and the old rat smiled at you in return.
“My name is Splinter. What may I call you?” He asked warmly.
“……..(y/n). My name is (y/n).” You answered.
Conversation was light and warm. Leo had eventually stretched and came to sit at the table. After his father poured him a cup of tea he perked up like a freshly watered plant. There was an amusing moment where he seemed to realize with slight shock and panic that you were already sitting at the table and enjoying light conversation with Splinter. Mikey had put on some pop music to sing to while he fried up literal mountains of pancakes. Donnie eventually trudged in clearly still half asleep and Mikey handed him a cup of coffee that he had mixed in an alarming amount of sugar into. Even Raph eventually came in, freshly showered by the looks of it, just as Mikey placed the plates of pancakes on the table. The smell had your mouth salivating.
“Aaaaaand, here you are! Eat as much as you want! There’s plenty more where that came from~”Mikey placed a stack of 5 pancakes in front of you, topped with strawberries and plenty of syrup.
Your eyes sparkled at the sight, and your stomach growled loudly in anticipation. You looked between Mikey and the stack of pancakes, not fully believing they were for you.
“Th- thank you for the food!” You said hesitantly before picking up a fork and cutting a bite of the pancakes for yourself. They were so fluffy and sweet, you hummed happily around the bite.
Mikey beamed as you quickly dove in for more.
While you were distracted, Splinter sent a look to Leo, a small conversation was held with their eyes. A pleased look from Master Splinter indicated that he didn’t mind the company, and his eyes narrowing slightly as a sign they would talk about this later in private.
You had eaten a third of the pancakes when you felt full to bursting. You were used to such small portion sizes at the lab, you felt embarrassed you couldn’t finish the delicious food. You stared at the mostly full plate, and willed your stomach to make more room.
“You don’t have to finish eating it all if you can’t.” Leo interjected, snapping you out of your staring contest with the food.
“I… sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve been given this much food. It- it was delicious. Thank you.” You said timidly.
“No worries dudette! Glad you liked it!” Mikey cleared the table and Raph got up to help with dishes.
“So tell me, how did you come to meet my sons?” Master Splinter asked curiously. He could assume as much as to why you were here. You had no place else to go.
Donnie choked on his coffee a bit. “Uhhhh-“
Leo interjected. “It’s Stockman. He’s back in the city.”
“Yeah! Dudette was totally in trouble! We swooped in and rescued them and-“ Mikey was cut off by Raph shoving him.
“Keep drying the dishes dumbass, let them speak.”
You hesitated to find the right words. “I… was being held against my will in a laboratory, by Dr Stockman. He was using me to test his experiments on.”
“What kind of experiments? Do you know?” Donnie questioned you. It seemed like you had the full attention of the table now and it made you nervous.
“Yes…. Kind of. I was living in Japan at the time- in Okinawa. I was hired as an assistant to Dr Stockman over a year ago to run errands for him and bring him food, since he didn’t know Japanese and the organization he worked for didn’t let him leave the lab. I had no idea he was working for the Foot yakuza. One day I stumbled upon what he was working on. He was experimenting on animals- mutating them into human hybrids with a strange substance he had. Dr Stockman caught me, and imprisoned me to keep it a secret. He had been wanting a new human to experiment on. I guess his previous experiments ended in failure… the Foot wanted him to make a weapon, one that could look human on the outside but have enhanced abilities on the inside. Something about my testing must’ve been working, because a few months ago we were moved here to New York.”
“So it worked?!” Donnie exclaimed, on the edge of his seat.
“I… I don’t know. He injected me with something. An altered version of the solution, and I didn’t take on animal characteristics. But I didn’t feel any different. He kept trying all these different tests on me to try and ‘activate’ it but nothing was working.”
“Then how did you escape?” Leo asked you suspiciously.
You paused a long moment, and looked down at your hands. You were thinking back to last night. Everything happened so fast… “I… I don’t know…. Bebop and Rocksteady were watching me. They were…. ‘Messing around’…. Hurting me….” Your hands started shaking. They tightened into fists in your lap. “When they left, they forgot to lock the door behind them. It was just dumb luck, but I took my chance and snuck out of the facility before they could come back.”
Raph snorted at that. “Yeah, ‘dumb luck’.” He mused. Donnie scrubbed a hand tiredly down his face and Leo shared a look with Mikey, to which he shrugged.
Master Splinter stood up from his chair and slowly walked around the table, and placed his hands gently on your shoulders, startling you out of your memories.
“You are very brave for what you did. We should be grateful for the luck that brought you here to us. If what you say is true, then it is possible you carry the same mutagen that transformed us many years ago.”
Your eyes widened at that. You didn’t yet understand what that meant.
“It issss possible that the mutagen was simply altered to lie in a dormant state until triggered by something- like a certain chemical compound or hormone. Would you be okay letting me run some tests on you?” Donnie asked casually. He was deep in thought.
A small shiver ran down your spine and your bristled. You didn’t know how to respond. The thought of being experimented on again made your blood run cold, but you didn’t know how to tell no.
“I…. Um… I….-“
“Hey guys! I got your message!”
A woman in a yellow jacket suddenly walked in through the main entrance of the lair carrying a large duffle bag over her shoulder. She walked into the kitchen over towards Leo and plopped the bag down on the floor, looking you over and putting a hand on her hip.
“What did I miss?”
This was a tough chapter to write I’m gonna be honest 😅 I hope it turned out okay! April enters the scene!!
If you remember toward the end of Out of the Shadows, Karai ordered Stockman be taken to Japan to be forced to work for the Foot, and not given any recognition for his accomplishments. I thought it would be a good plot tie in as to what he’s been doing the last few years.
@itsberrydreemurstuff
@honeysuckleboy
@thecreat0r64
@eli-chris
@kurlyfrasier
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clangenrising · 2 days
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I always wonder how you write your characters so well — I usually end up running out of plans and then I think of a new scene and dialogue, and then struggle to write said scene and dialogue in a way that doesn't seem robotic. But the exchanges that take place here (and all the pieces in general) flow so well!
It's good to see Mystique slowly coming to terms with what is going on around her. I like that it's not rushed and that we get to see the changes and the realizations she goes through over time.
It means a lot to see the different ways that everyone goes through grief too, how relationships between friends don't always get an instant fix
I also struggle sometimes with having a scene in mind that feels robotic. Usually, I give it a second or third pass before posting though so you guys don't ever see that.
My method may not work for everyone, but what I do is usually I start with an idea of how i need the scene to go in big strokes. I often write down a little summary in parentheses to guide me, and I make sure that I know what NEEDS to be accomplished by the end of a piece. Like for instance, I might say "this piece needs to show Scorchplume convincing Mystique to take her home" and that's my only requirement. I try not to come up with too much more in advance, or if I do have specific dialogue or scene elements, I allow myself to change them if it feels necessary. I try never to get so tied to an idea that it makes the writing suffer.
From there I just start and I let the conversations flow where they need to and usually, if I've put in the right elements to motivate the characters to act how I need them to, they do. Still, I sometimes write a whole scene and say "this isn't going where I need it to" and then trash it and start over in a different direction.
And then I just try to let my characters be people. You mention that you like how Mystique's growth isn't rushed and that's something I definitely care about. People can be really stubborn and change, especially difficult change, can take a really long time. I think that's what makes it so interesting and I think it's really important to show in my art.
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bonkhrnyjail · 5 hours
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sweet plum | chapter six
Tumblr media
masterlist | pinterest | spotify playlist
pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)
summary: the last of us wrap party is tonight, and the tension between you and pedro can no longer be ignored…
rating: mature (will become explicit in future chapters)
warnings: alcohol consumption, mild sexual content
a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR THE LOVE ON CHAPTER FIVE omg. i’m kicking myself for not posting this fic on tumblr sooner! pls enjoy chapter six and feel free to not analyze what our lovely reader’s actions might say about me as an author or my relationship to conflict <3 love y’all.
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You’ve been avoiding Pedro like the fucking plague.
Sixty missed calls. Even twenty texts, and off the top of your head you can't remember the last time he actually texted you. The calls became less frequent as the weeks passed, but he still tries at least once every day. You silence them every time.
The day you kissed him, he tried to call you ten times in a row, unbeknownst to you. You had thrown your phone across the living room the second you made it through the door and laid completely catatonic on your bed until your roommate got home.
“Babe, you’ll never guess who I saw last night— Are you good?” she inquired nonchalantly as she entered your room to find you face down in your mound of stuffed animals.
Droplets began to prickle the corners of your eyes as you let out a muffled groan in response. Your mouth wasn’t capable of words, the fat, dry lump in your throat stubborn and unyielding, forcing you to clench your teeth around nothing. A hand landed softly on your shoulder.
“Woah, hey,” she started to rub your arm up and down as a full body sob rippled through you. "Talk to me."
You looked up at her, tears rolling fast and hot down the apples of your cheeks, and threw yourself into her chest.
“I- I- I did something st-stupid,” you managed between sobs. 
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” she tried to reassure you gently, smoothing down your hair. “Unless you accidentally shaved some of Pedro’s hair off or something. I’m sure he’d forgive you anyways, though.”
You tried to form words against the sobs clawing their way out of your chest.
“Bad, Abby. Like, r-really bad.”
“Well shit. What’s the damage?” she spoke somewhat brashly, which was nothing new when it came to her attempts at being gentle. “Do I have to kill somebody? ‘Cause I will, I've been playing a lot of first person shooter, I can handle it.”
Laughter overtook your cries, although whatever sounds were coming from your throat were a horrifying mixture of both. Abby chuckled at the sound. You continued like that for a while, laughing and crying and laughing again, until the tears finally stopped.
“Can you tell me what happened?” she blurted as a soberness enveloped her tone. “I’m sure I can come up with a solution. You know I’m crafty.”
“Do you know how to erase memories?” you mumbled as you sat up straight. “That’s the only solution I can think of.”
“No… but I own a bat. Blunt force trauma is a pretty surefire solution.”
“Jesus… not to Pedro.”
“Did you, like, shit yourself or something?” she blundered, immediately biting down on her lip after the words left her mouth. “Sorry, no, this is serious. Serious time.”
You let out a gargantuan sigh as you stared fervently into your lap.
“... I kissed him.”
“You WHAT?” she grabbed your shoulders and shook you aggressively. “YOU WHAT?!”
“I—”
“WHAT? HOW? WHEN?” she shrieked, piercing the hell out of your eardrums.
“I kissed him, on the lips, on the doorstep.” 
“ON THE DOORSTEP?!” she flailed her arms, slapping your shoulders in the process. “AND I MISSED IT?!”
“You’re hurting me.”
“WAS IT GOOD? IS HE A GOOD KISSER?”
“Can we use our inside voices?”
“FUCK— ok, sorry,” she mellowed, blowing air through raspberried lips. “Why are you so upset? I thought you wanted this to happen!”
“I... I did. And didn’t. It’s complicated,” you babbled through your frustration. “I just… kissed him. I didn’t think, or ask, and I can’t take it back.”
“Well, did he kiss you back?”
“Uh… I...” you muttered hesitantly. "I think so."
Abby sprung from your bed, squealing and dancing as her fists punched awkwardly into the air. The sight alone made you cackle.
“OK- so, what happened after that? Did he confess his love to you?” 
“Jesus christ… no, that’s not what happened,” you groaned. “I sorta... ran away.”
“You WHAT?!”
“Oh god, please don’t kill me,” you whined. “I didn’t know what to do, I only realized what I had done after I had done it and I fuckin' panicked. He tried to grab my hand but I ran inside as fast as I could.”
“Dude, you have got to be kidding me,” her tone went flat, eyes laced with disappointment. “Where's your phone?”
“I don’t know, I threw it across the living room when I got up here. I was kinda freaking out.”
Abby immediately jumped off of the bed and started toward the door to your room, despite your insistent pleas to leave it be. She came storming back inside moments later.
“10 missed calls. 10 MISSED CALLS,” she pointed aggressively to your lock screen displaying the missed notifications. “Look, he even texted you.”
You snatched the phone out of her hand, shoving it under your pillow. “I can’t… I can’t right now.”
“If he didn’t want this, he wouldn’t call you that many times, and he definitely wouldn't have kissed you back," she trailed off for a moment, some sort of realization sparking behind her eyes. "Wait, did he get you those flowers on the kitchen counter?”
“I- yes. Just because I helped him out today last minute.”
“No, not because you helped him out last minute. Flowers from a man mean one of three things. Number one, congrats. Number two, condolences. And number three, please have sex with me.”
“Jesus,” you giggled. “And what does it mean if he brought me a coffee too?”
“Your usual?”
“...Yes.”
“Please have sex with me and be my wife forever and ever.”
You rolled your eyes and flopped back into your pillows, covering your face with your hands and groaning. Abby sat with you for a while, but eventually gave up, knowing damn well that you're to stubborn and you'd make your own decisions regarding the whole situation. She knew she never stood a chance to change your mind anyways.
The days passed, slowly at first, but eventually you found your way back to a steady rhythm. You went to work, saw your friends, read a lot, and spent practically zero time on your phone. Impressive how avoidance managed to cure your social media addiction. 
You'd pushed it out of your head that you’d have to see Pedro in a few weeks. Then the weeks turned to a week, then to a few days, then to a day.
You woke up this morning and it all came crashing down.
The wrap party is tonight. Then the premiere tomorrow. Everyone is going. You couldn’t get away with skipping it if you tried. Bella would probably storm into your apartment and drag you out by the hair.
You haven’t even told Bella about the kiss.
You end up lying in bed for hours, watching video after video on Youtube to silence your racing thoughts. You had set an alarm on your phone earlier to remind you when to start getting ready, and it frightens the hell out of you, jolting you from a groggy haze of half-sleep. You curse under your breath and roll lazily onto your feet, your blankets crumpling to a pathetic-looking pile on the floor. 
You power up your speaker and choose some music, an upbeat and catchy playlist to try and redirect your energy. The upside in all of this is that you can get all dolled up. It gives you an excuse for extensive self-pampering and wearing outfits that mostly collect dust in your closet. 
An everything shower is an understatement of what you have planned. You have your products lined up, various scrubs, masks, body washes, etc, and a fresh razor sitting right beside them. You crank the faucet on, just a hair below the boiling point, and step into the tub.
The steam coats your lungs as you inhale deep, the sudden sensation of the water colliding with your skin sending a stark chill down your body. As you close your eyes, leaning your head back and letting your hair fall into the steady stream, your focus slips to a corner of your mind, the pesky corner that you've tried desperately to keep locked away. Because once the thoughts start, it’s damn near impossible to wrangle them back in.
The fantasy is vivid. You can almost feel Pedro’s hands in your hair, massaging shampoo slowly and intentionally from behind you. He’s close, his bare body pressed to your back, his skin hot and pulsing against yours. He leans you back to rinse the product from your hair, pressing a small kiss to your forehead as he squeezes your shoulder softly. 
“Mmmm,” he hums, trailing languid, open-mouth kisses across your cheek and down your neck. “My sweet plum.”
A faint voice in the back of your mind is shouting wildly, trying to stop the scene from playing out in your head, but it's not enough to break through the noise.
He runs his hands down the front of your body, gently tracing your curves and valleys, finger-painting your skin with adoration. Your head falls back into him as his kisses grow deeper, longer, more desperate, him hardening against you as his gentle caresses turn to needy grasps. 
“Let me… please,” you whisper into his ear, snaking your hand behind you and running your palm against the underside of his shaft. His body presses harder into yours as he lets out a soft grunt of approval directly in your ear, the vibration of it surging straight to your core.
A jolt of cold water shocks your body, tearing you from your fantasy. You come to and find yourself leaning against the wall of the shower, your ass having knocked the knob to the coldest setting. 
“Christ,” you mutter under your breath, cranking the control back to where it was and reaching for your overpriced shampoo bottle. 
You go through the motions of the rest of your shower, losing yourself in the music and singing along as you always do. Shower concerts have been your most recent replacement for the therapy that you can't quite afford.
You paint your toes, your leg hoisted up precariously on the counter and torso bent over to reach as your fuzzy robe dangles from your hips. You choose an eggplant purple, matching the accents in your dress. The press-ons that you found are a damn-near perfect match to this color, with a swirling design decorating the tips of the almond shape. 
The dress is more of a dainty feminine than you typically go for. You generally gravitate towards sultry colors and styles, but the cut of this dress instantly drew your attention. A plunging neckline with miniscule gold buttons decorating the front. Beneath the bust, a sheer panel with corset boning outlines the waist, and the remainder of the skirt flows heavily, the hem sitting perfectly at your ankles. It reminds you of a Free People style dress, but in your size. Hallelujah.
With a feel-good playlist booming through your speaker, your makeup goes on quick and easy. A thick, black wing smoked out with a deep purple and a subtle, black cherry sheer lip. Everything else you keep fairly light and natural, letting the boldness of the eye do the talking.
You pull your hair up into a bun, making sure the dress is the center of attention. You leave a few, short pieces out and curl them, creating the sense of a haphazard version of a Victorian era updo. After donning some simple gold jewelry and your Mary Janes, the outfit is complete. You throw on an oversized brown blazer just to keep you warm, but you’ll likely take it off the moment you get to the party.
Your uber arrives moments later, somehow exactly as you descend the stairs outside your building. Your driver, an older man named Mario, gets out and shakes your hand as he introduces himself and his very nice BMW named Maria.
You've never met anyone quite this aggressively Italian.
The good-natured man even asks if you'd like to pick the music for the ride. You choose something that you hope the both of you will like: ABBA.
“This was popular when I was your age!” he gushes, the gravel and rasp in his voice more audible than the actual pitch. 
“ABBA is absolutely timeless,” you chime, adding a few more songs to the queue.
You chat the whole ride there, his jovial presence somehow working away some of the knots of anxiety in your stomach. He asks all about your work, thankfully steering clear of who you work with, and even prodding you for styling tips for his “thick and unruly” curls. 
He pulls up to the entrance, stopping near a hoard of your coworkers from the crew crowded amongst the steps to the double doors. You exchange goodbyes with Mario and slide out of the car into the brisk air, your blazer draped over your shoulders and doing a very ineffective job of retaining any of your body heat. You hear a shriek of joy emerge from the blob of people in front of you, followed by your name in the same cadence. Most of the heads you can see turn to face you, arms reaching out for hugs and smiles as far as you can see. 
You’re going to make this a good night. No matter what.
.   .   .   .   .
It’s significantly warmer inside the venue, so you decided to drop your jacket at the coat check. It’s much more crowded than you expected, but then again, everyone was invited. Some of your friends from makeup even made the trip from New York to be here. Since you’ve never been to one of these before, jokes keep getting thrown around along the lines of “Baby’s first wrap party!" and you losing your wrap party virginity. The group dynamics from the days on set settle right back into a rhythm, your place as the baby of the group still yours for the taking. You don’t mind the coddling, as it seems to help keep your mind off of the inevitable. 
There’s a slurry of waiters dipping and dodging amongst clusters of bodies, hors d'oeuvres and drinks displayed gorgeously on shiny golden platters. Someone’s arm is dragging you towards the open bar across the dance floor, where a herd has already begun to form. A slew of voices and faces pass you by as you travel swiftly through the crowd, and you’re unable to make out anything distinct amongst the clamor.
Until you hear his voice.
That familiar boom of laughter, crisp and thunderous, crystal clear amongst the hundreds of noises up against it. You immediately whip your head around to locate the source, forgetting your hand is in the grips of your friend and nearly snapping her limb off in the process. She lunges forward into you, nearly knocking your hors d’oeuvres plate from your hand and garnering the attention of several people surrounding you.
You somehow stumble back to balance and a very attentive waiter quickly swipes the mostly finished plate from your hands. The swiftness of everything is making you dizzy, sounds and sights swirling in the warm glow of the gorgeous chandelier decorating the space above you. With every turn of your head, the crowd in front of you shifts to blurry outlines of colors and shapes, like ink bleeding from the hard lines where people should begin and end. 
Suddenly you feel arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing your organs to a pulp.
“Who-” you look down to see two small hands with black painted nails. “Is that my Bellie?”
A head pops into your peripheral with a wide, toothy smile. You let out a little shriek as your arms envelop them and squeeze, lifting them off the ground a bit with the sheer force of it.
“I missed you so much—'' you pause, taking in their presence once more. “Look at you! You look amazing!”
“I look amazing?” They toy gently with the skirt of your dress. “You look amazing!”
You embrace once more, the excitement of seeing them in person completely overriding your ability to control the gleeful noises escaping your body. They pull away, your hands still gripping each other’s elbows.
“Have you seen P? I know he’s already here,” they pull their phone out of their back pocket, his location pulled up on Find My Friends. 
“Oh, uh… I— I haven’t yet,” you hear your voice quickly morph into a downbeat tone against your will. 
“Uh oh,” they blurt. “Why is your face doing that? Did something happen?”
“I- uh…” you stumble over a sad attempt at words, muttering unintelligible syllables. “Well—”
Your train of thought comes to a screeching halt as he appears through a sliver in the crowd.
And, god, he looks handsome as ever. A nice, nice white suit clings ever so perfectly to his muscular, statuesque frame. The collar is folded neatly against his strong, thick neck, a few subtle veins protruding softly from his caramel skin. His dimples are on full display as he throws his head back with laughter, the little heart-shaped patch in his beard perfectly prominent. 
Bella follows your gaze until they see him. They call out his name and wave him down on their tiptoes. He immediately clocks the voice, and you watch as the small smile on his face spreads to a wide grin. He excuses himself from his current conversation and starts towards your direction.
Your stomach drops. You quickly survey around you to find that there is no clear escape, there are clusters of people surrounding you on each side and no pockets that you could gracefully slip into to weave your way through the crowd. For better or worse, you’re trapped.
He quickly scoops Bella into a bear hug, his arms enveloping their small frame in it's entirety. He spins them around, their feet dangling, hovering just above the floor. You stand there, frozen, little bunches of your dress clumped up in your tight, fidgeting fists. The fabric rolls between your thumb and forefinger, a haphazard attempt at soothing the anxiety surging through your veins.
It takes him a minute to acknowledge your presence, and with every second that passes, your urge to bolt revs in your belly.
Once his gaze meets yours, a soft, forgiving smile paints across his lips. You force the corners of your mouth upwards, attempting to create what hopefully appears like an expression of joy. Hopefully.
“Hi.”
It comes out more like a sigh when he says it, like it’s been pounding at his chest, just waiting to be released. His hand lays flat on his abdomen as he taps his pointer finger repeatedly. The muscles in his neck flex, creating movement in the collar of his shirt.
He’s nervous. You know him well enough to know that, and you know you’re likely not hiding your true state very well either. He knows you just as well.
You try to respond.  The air you've been holding prisoner in your lungs tumbles out, catching in your throat.  A feeble, "H-hi," is all you can manage.
“You look…” his eyes wander your body, your face, your hair, his lips parted ever so slightly. “You look lovely.”
The statement reverberates in your mind until you hear a distant call of your name. A quick turn of your head finds your favorite hairstylist waving you down.
“I—” you swallow and start over. “Thank you. Thanks. I—, sorry, I gotta—” you motion toward your destination with your thumb before decidedly turning and slipping through the crowd, a copious amount of polite little statements slipping off your tongue in order to get out of sight and away from him.
.   .   .   .   .
“So… what the fuck was that?” Bella states gruffly, sitting opposite of you at a small high top table, tucked away in a quieter room off of the main ballroom. “That was, like, painful.”
You let out a small groan, knowing you’d have to tell them at some point, but dissenting the fact that the time for that confession seems to be right this very second.
“I kinda… I fucked things up between us.”
“I doubt that,” they say reassuringly.
“No, seriously, I—” you stop yourself mid-sentence to catch your breath. “I kissed him, Bel.”
They let out a satisfied chuckle.
“Well thank god. It’s about goddamn time.”
“No, no you don’t understand,” you babble. “I kissed him without thinking, realized what I did, and ran.”
“Ohhhh my g—” they blow a raspberry. “Ok. Well. When was this?”
“Like… a month ago?”
“A month?!”
“I haven’t spoken to him since.”
“Jesus christ… I’m assuming he’s tried to call you, yes?”
“Pretty much every single day since it happened,” your words come out more sigh than pitch.
Bella rubs their temples, an incomprehensible expression on their face.
“Gosh, it feels like mom and dad are fighting.”
That makes you snort laugh, to your own surprise.
“Well clearly he’s not angry at you. And you can’t avoid him forever,” they reason, their bluntness somehow comforting, unraveling the little knot sitting in your gut. “I wish you two would just put all your cards on the table. Worst comes to worst, things don’t work out.”
“I just really don’t want to lose him, Bellie,” you mumble into your drink.
“You will if you don’t talk to him,” they quip right back, eyes stern and decided.
You know they’re right. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you know.
“I’ll talk to him. Tomorrow. Tonight is supposed to be fun.”
“Fair enough. Now, come dance with me.” they hop to their feet and extend a hand.
You take it with a smile, and within a mere second they’re whisking you towards the dance floor.
.   .   .   .   .
You’ve had 3 drinks. Three strong drinks. On a stomach with only a few bite sized hors d'oeuvres to soak up the copious amount of gin in your system. 
And it’s helping, sure. Helping you forget momentarily that Pedro is probably within 100 feet of you at any given moment. Helping your breath move in and out the way it’s supposed to, without catching on threads of worry webbed inside your lungs. Helping to loosen the knots that riddled your body when you got here.
But it’s also making you dizzy. 
Dizzy enough that you’re not quite sure when you end and others begin. It’s all lights and laughter and limbs, filling your senses to the brim. The corners of your vision have a little haze to them, a haze that’s starting to grow inward.
You stumble your way out of the hoard, searching for the nearest corner to tuck yourself away in for a moment. A friend hollers after you, asking if you’re alright.
“I’m good! Just got the spins,” you reassure her. “I’ll be back.”
A little awning reveals itself to you in a narrow sightline through the crowd. You follow the slender gap without a second thought. Once you reach the end, you find a dimly lit hallway with an emergency exit sign illuminating a sturdy black door. You steady yourself on a railing and lean your weight into the wall, your head bowed slightly and shoulders rounded.
The pattern on the carpet sways in your vision as you let yourself hang for a moment, releasing tension from your upper body and pushing your feet firmly into the floor as some attempt at grounding. After a moment, you decide to take your shoes off in hopes it will inspire your body to feel more “at one with gravity”.
The sound of booming bass still accosts your ears, but more muffled now, and the sound waves flow through you, perfectly in time with the beating of your heart. It isn’t until your name is spoken the third time that you really hear it.
Your eyes shoot up to find Pedro, a worried, scrunched brow on his face and a bottle of water in his hand. 
“Oh- um…” you stammer. You continue to fight for the right words, any words, until he cuts you off.
“Drink this,” he twists the cap and gently places the bottle into your right hand. “I haven’t seen you take a sip of water the entire night. No wonder you’re dizzy.”
A moment of confusion clouds you, but you quickly remember that you shouted over the blaring music for all to hear of your current state. Your voice can be quite head-turning with a lack of inhibition. You obey his word and take a swig from the bottle, the crisp, cold water relentless against your sensitive teeth. The temperature is a visceral opposite to the flush of your face, causing you to furrow your brow slightly as it travels down your esophagus. 
He lets out a chuckle as he scans your expression.
“Cold?”
You produce an affirmative grumble and try to pass the bottle to him, but he gently pushes it back towards your chest. 
“Have some more.”
Your eyes flutter under the softness of his gaze. You try to gulp down the dry seed in you throat.
“Pedro, I—”
“We don’t have to talk about it right now.”
“Bella told me I have to talk to you,” you admit, your chin tucked and stare driving into the carpet, whispering in a way that sounded more like you were reminding yourself than telling him.
It makes him laugh, releasing that sweet, boisterous sound and it's accompanying smile you missed so dearly.
“Taking orders from Bellie now, eh?”
“They can be a bit militant when push comes to shove, to be honest,” a puff of air passes through your nose as a smirk tugs at your lips, your eyes glued to the floor. "'Specially if I'm being an idiot."
You take a few more sips of water and Pedro shifts to stand beside you, kicking his foot up with his back flat against the wall. Neither of you speak, only the sounds of your breath filling the space between you. 
You both inhale at the same time, as though you are both about to speak. 
“F—sorry, y-you go,” you gulp, though your mouth is bone dry.
He lets his exhale escape through puckered lips, and you watch as his hiked up chest deflates. His hand sits flat against the first button of his suit jacket as he thumbs at the lapel.
“I’ve spent the past month in agony, you know.”
You gaze up at his face, his eyes fixed on the glint in his freshly-shined shoes. He rolls his bottom lip through his teeth nervously, the hue of the skin shifting from an off-white to a bitten pink as it’s released from the grip.
“Missing you…” he spoke softly. “Wanting to talk to you…”
Guilt spreads like a wildfire, scalding your throat.
“Pedro, I— I am so s—”
“Wanting nothing more than to kiss you again.”
The words kick the air from your lungs, your lips parting to make way as the muscles in your jaw give out entirely. He turns to face your visage, and you find his painted with an expression of pure yearning. His eyes have a sparkle to them, but not of joy. It’s more like a heat, a burning that seems almost painful to endure. The thick, inescapable tension wraps itself hermetically around your neck.
“I— You didn’t even give me a chance to kiss you back.”
Before you can even process the words, the clinking of glasses sounds in the distance. Through the muffled shouting you hear a strained attempt at organizing a drunken group photo.
“We should probably…” you floppily gesture towards the ballroom, the alcohol seemingly turning your bones a bit soft and pliable. “Can we talk about this after the party? I'd like to be a little more sober if I can help it.”
“Right, uh—” he adjusts his tie slightly, insecurely clearing his throat. “After the party. I can do that.”
“I promise,” you assure, though you’re acutely aware that he has very little reason to trust you, considering you avoided him for almost a month straight. You reach for his hand, the one that’s still fidgeting with his jacket, hopeful your touch will convey your sincerity in a way that your words can’t.
He smiles, somewhat forcibly. and offers his arm.
“Shall we?”
You make your way back to the crowd, observing with a small chuckle as a few people with phones in hand attempt to herd people left and right, trying to create some semblance of a formation. The two of you slip into the hoard easily, gliding right into a perfect little cranny to the left of the pointed cameras.
Pedro slides his arm around your waist as you pose, and you’re certain he can feel your raging pulse thumping through every vessel beneath your skin.
“Ok, now a funny one!” says one of the photographers.
You turn to each other, smiling and searching for an idea. Drunken and foolish, you take his arm and pretend to bite it. 
He lets out a hearty laugh before leaning into the “scene”, his face mocking an expression of terror. You have to stifle your giggles with an open mouth, which results in a strange, almost strangled sound escaping you. It only encourages his laughter, which encourages yours, and droplets form at the crest of your eyes as you wait for the signal to drop the pose.
“Got it!” someone blurts across the ballroom.
“Sorry about that,” you guide his arm back to his side, giving it a gentle pat into place. “These hors d'oeuvres just made me hungrier.”
You laugh at your own joke, snorting on the inhale, and you look up to see his smile, wide and gleaming, the bounciest part of his cheeks sporting a salmon-pink hue. 
A distant voice calls for Pedro, hollering something about an actors-only picture, and he turns his head to find the source. You grab his hand before he starts towards them.
“Call me, ok? After the party,” you gently squeeze at his wrist. “I promise I’ll answer this time.”
He nods, his sickly sweet smile punctuated with picture-perfect dimples. He turns his back to you and weaves his way through the crowd. 
.   .   .   .   .
You finally made your way out of the coat check line after a grueling twenty minutes of needing to pee but not wanting to give up your spot in line. You’re standing outside the entrance now, the brisk air nipping at your bare ankles. You idly pull out your phone to find two text notifications from Pedro.
The first is an address, with a unit number. Los Angeles. You recognize the street name.
The second message reads:
I just got home. Buzz me when u get here. :) 
You almost start to skim through the unread messages he’d sent you since that night, but you’re quickly derailed by another buzz.
Pedro Pascal sent you $100. Description: for your ride.
You laugh out loud, amused by his overestimation of the price, but nevertheless stunned by his unfailing thoughtfulness. You start towards the stairs, your nerves burning and buzzing, entirely uncertain and out of control of what the evening holds.
. . . . .
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As the two years pass, does Prototype ever move into the actual house or is he just fine staying in the hut and just visiting as he feels like it? Do more toys start to hang out with him out there? I imagine Catnap would have stayed out there with him many times, from the very beginning!
He mostly stays at his hut, due to him preferring to have a lot of space for himself to just exist! Whoever, he's not allowed to stay there when it's raining because Angel has a fear he might get hit by lightning thanks to half his body being made of metal, so they always cover him head to toe in blankets and prohibit him from leaving the main house.
Prototype's hut was basically Catnap's second room for the first few months! Poor baby didn't want to leave his dad alone. Many of the mini critters would also visit Prototype since the beginning, because they look up to Theo and want to copy what he does. With enough time whoever, Hoppy, Poppy and Mommy Long Legs also start hanging out in there. Bunzo does as well, but he's normally followed by Huggy and Boxy Boo so they can all collectively annoy their second parent as much as they want to.
Catnap and Poppy are the ones who stay at the hut the most often, when he's not in the main house! When he goes to "visit" or when there's a thunderstorm and he needs alone time, he stays at Angel's room because not even Angel themself uses it all that much.
If we go the Angel x Prototype route he still stays a lot in the hut because, again, he likes to have his own space, but Angel's room is where he goes when he wants attention. He can also be seen just. Climbing through the window to Angel's room. Not even Angel knows why, Prototype just thinks "that's our bedroom and i enter it the way I WANT TO" and climbs to get there. He just pops in there and sleeps even though he doesn't need to. Cat behavior.
(Prototype's tendency to climb through Angel's room in the romance/queerplatonic route is also noted by other toys and Angel. They just connect the dots to Catnap climbing through the window to get into his and Dogday's room and go "oh, THIS is where he took that from")
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whyceasefirefaq · 20 hours
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UPDATE: The United Nations passed a ceasefire resolution! However, It's incredibly temporary. So, on that note, here's 7 Things I've Learned While Doing Solo Outreach In Solidarity With A Ceasefire And Palestine because while that is progress, we are not there yet. The end goal is justice & there is much more work to be done. Since I finished setting up this outreach site, I've gone out and tried my hand at solo outreach three times. It's been a process and a lot of learning along the way. That said, these tips also work for small groups as well.
Related: It's important to know your rights. Laws can vary per state when it comes to protests. Know yours before you do outreach. 1.) Give yourself time and patience to find your groove. Things that may work with a larger group, may not necessarily work when you're doing outreach by yourself. I've found I just need to try things & see. It can feel a bit messy at first, but if you are aware and open to change, you will eventually find your groove. And once you do, doing solo outreach is a lot easier.
2.) It's okay if you feel self-conscious while doing solo outreach. I still feel that way at times when I begin doing outreach, but I find this phrase helps me get out of my head & into the zone. "There's a genocide happening. We all must take as much action as we can. This isn't about you." Deep breath. Okay. Let's do this. Another thing I think about is the Nazi holocaust (a genocide where a number of people in my family were killed.) And I think what would I have done during that time? While not the exact same thing, this is a genocide. Now is your time to do something, to be that person, and when I focus on that, that feeling is bigger than any self-conscious feelings that I might have.
3.) Find your local go-to outreach locations. Locations that are great for protests and group outreach are not necessarily the best for solo outreach.
For example, I recently stood on the corner by a small bodega (local store) and a college, which worked well. If I was in a group, that corner would've been too crowded.
Ideally, a good location will have a nice flow but not be overly packed with people. Also, the area shouldn't be where people are too much in a rush.
I initially tried doing outreach in midtown (New York City) during people's lunch breaks. Didn't plan it that way, but I had an eye doctor appointment in the area, got there too early and so while waiting outside, (my sign was in my bag), I thought "Well, let's give this a go." While some people were giving me signs of approval, they were too busy to stop and engage. Also, the area should not be too loud. Once I tried a spot where almost every time I tried to talk to people, a truck went by semi-drowning me out. but on a related note...
4.) Don't just hold up the sign and wait for people to take action. When I did this, I got plenty of thumbs up, but no one scanned the QR code on the outreach sign to fill out the petition. It wasn't until I started saying variations of "Take action for a ceasefire" that people started to engage. 5.) Keep the tone friendly/approachable. Yes, this genocide (like all genocides) is horrific and time-sensitive, but I've found if your tone is too stressed out, urgent, and/or outright chanting (as one might do in a group at a protest) it can turn people away. If you're chanting in a group, it's unity. People understand that. If you're chanting by yourself, you're just a random person on a street corner talking too loudly. That said, it also depends on how loud your location is. Go accordingly.
6.) Do self-care in-between outreach so you don't get burned out. Do not joy or rest shame yourself. We must be proactive in taking care of ourselves in these times, and to do so is not selfish. Imposing unnecessary suffering on yourself does not help the Palestinians or the cause.
While doing outreach I have gotten more positive responses than negative ones, but a couple times I have been called various and not very complimentary names. And I can kind of laugh at that now while typing this, but sometimes when I'm tired, it bothers me more than it would and I find my brain is focusing on the few negative reactions instead of the many positive ones.
When this happens, I know I need to do self-care and feed my soul. This is not only important for my emotional well-being, but it also allows me to do more effective outreach. There is a difference between taking action and taking effective action and it's easier to know the difference when you're not emotionally drained.
Sometimes you're going to take action and it's not going to be this big thing that goes viral, but that doesn't mean it's not making a difference. When I am burned out, I often feel impatient, and frustrated and even wonder what is the point? But when I care for myself, I am then in a place to remember that every action ripples, and when part of a collective effort (which this is), it can most definitely make big waves. So far 12 people scanned the QR code on the sign and that's 12 more than before.
7.) Never forget that everyone has something to contribute and remembering that can lead to new ways of participation.
I came across this lovely human who wanted to take action in solidarity but didn't have a cellphone to scan the QR code on the outreach sign. I asked him if he wouldn't mind having his photo taken with said sign, to be shared on social media, and he said yes.
And that's when I started taking photos of people, including those who could scan the QR code but wanted to do more.
The reason why this is useful is that when the photo is shared on social media, it's now one more image that's getting the word out, encouraging people to scan the QR code (which leads to the petition & thus take action.)
People can also take their own photo with the sign and post that on their social media, thus further getting the word out. This can be done digitally as well. (Tag me on Instagram, Twitter, Bluesky, and/or TikTok @ rebelwheelsnyc if you do.)
That said, I don't ask everyone I engage with if I can take their photo. You have to take it on a case-by-case basis. If a person is scanning the QR code but is giving off vibes that they are in a rush, I don't ask. But if they are casually chatting with me while filling out the petition, asking questions about the project, etc then I do.
GET INVOLVED! For further tips, free outreach graphics, a FAQ & more, kindly check out: WhyCeasefireFAQ.Tumblr.Com
Thank you to everyone who has supported this project via sharing, getting involved, and sending kind words. It was created with a lot of heart and solidarity, and I greatly appreciate people showing the project some love. [image description: There are four images at the top of the article, two in each row. Upper left: a bald man with a mustache and brown skin is wearing a black winter coat, smiling at the camera while holding up the outreach sign. Upper right: a thin-framed person with light skin and black hair that's slightly wavy and a thin mustache, is wearing artsy sunglasses a black winter coat a gray scarf, and is holding up the outreach sign. Bottom left: a petite senior woman is wearing an olive green winter coat, a beige scarf, and a black hat. She has small sunglasses and is holding up the outreach sign. Lastly, bottom right: a bald man with brown skin and a hint of a mustache and goatee, is wearing a black winter coat and is looking right at the camera while holding up the outreach sign. the outreach sign in question is as follows: Rectangle graphic. Black & white except for a watermelon illustration which is green, white, red, and black aka the colors of the Palestinian flag. Graphic is divided into three sections by thick black lines. Section 1: The text reads“Ceasefire now! “Stop the genocide in Palestine” “Sign the petition:” Section 2: “URL if not now movement .org / our - campaigns.” “Or scan code with your phone” “Jewish-led. Allies are welcome.” Section 3: “Questions? Concerns? Why ceasefire FAQ. tumblr. com.” Main font is a bold thick font except for “sign of petition” which is in a script font. Next to “scan code with your phone” is a QR code which is a bunch of random black shapes with a white background. “Ceasefire now” is the only text that is white with a black horizontal rectangle behind it. All other text is black on a white background. The text “sign the petition has a white rounded rectangle” behind it with a thin black border.]
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marydiva-17 · 3 days
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I will take care of her
female Jake and kiri + grace and sully family
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A year had passed since the time of sorrow of the battle with the RDA, and life had started moving on at a good pace. Jane had taken part in the eyes of ewya, giving up her old human life for navi life. That was not the only joy that came to her as she became a mother; this year, happiness filled her and Neytiro. When they had thought life had stopped giving blessings to them, it seemed like we were not done yet, as something new was coming to them.
Jane " I wonder why Norma and Max had called us here"
neytiro "She didn't say anything to you"
Jane " No she didn't"
tsu'tey "You two are friends you are always talking with each other, and seem to know everything so far"
Jane "Well yes we do know some stuff but not everything all the time, like we didn't know about spider"
tsu'tey "Yes that is true"
Jane " don't worry we are here now everything will be explained shortly" The tiro had finally arrived at the human base soon being greeted by, a few humans waiting for them as they lead them to lab.
Jane " norma we are here"
norma " good wait what of the children"
tsu'tey " don't worry we left them in the care of mo'at and one of care takers"
norma " good well we had been checking on grace avatar"
Jane " yes we kept on here in the lab"
norma " well yes we did but there was something we came across today, that you all most see right now" The group soon walked towards grace avatar to see she was pregnant.
Jane " grace avatar is pregnant"
max "yes she is pregnant and we don't know how"
neytiro" we maybe can see her videos if she was with anyone from the clan or any of the other clans"
Jane " That something we don't even know and if she did have a relationship, she might not have shared it in her logs"
Jane " is the child health"
norma " yes the baby has a good heart rate and is in perfect health"
Jane " good"
tsu'tey " this is miracle"
Jane " yes it a miracle and mystery"
neytiro " how you and norma some other avatar had kids how is mystery"
max " well only some of the avatar seem to have chance of having kids and know grace, had dead we didn't know until now"
Jane " what are you going to do about the baby"
neytiro " it will be born navi it will be raised by the people"
Jane " yes you are right as I don't think it will be human that much"
norma " well we have time until the baby be here"
Jane " good" the room had fallen silence as everyone was trying to find out what they were going to do next, for grace and her unborn baby.
That night
Jane " he asleep official"
neytiro " good he always loves your lullabies and stories"
Jane " thank you but he also loves your lullabies and stories as well"
neytiro " my Jane I wish to talk more about grace baby"
Jane " I want to talk about the baby as well"
neytiro and Jane " I think we should take the child in" the couple soon looked at each other and soon laughed a bit, as they looked at each other.
Jane " I want to take in grace baby she was there for us and I want to be there for her baby as well, she going to need a nice and loving family and I think we can do that"
neytiro " yes grace was the best and we should honor her, by become her child family along with her as well"
Jane " yes we can tell tsu'tey and norma tomorrow I know they will like to raise the child, but they have their hands full already"
neytrio " I think they will be happy for us and our kids will need aunt and uncle like them " Jane soon smiled at her husband and kissed his check, they had talked a bit more about the soon to be new family member. Soon everything had been discussed with everyone and soon agreed in to the end, as Jane and neytiro had prep their home for their new child.
Time later
Jane " aww you are so cute baby girl you remind me so much, of your mommy"Jane is holding baby kiri in her arms looking down at the girl as the little girl looked up at Jane.
Jane " our little kiri" Jane had lowered her hand towards kiri who soon wrapped her small hand around, one of Jane fingers making Jane smile.
neytiro " she already love you"
Jane " yes she does she our special girl" Jane was looking at the family she had made a on pandora, and she was very proud of what she has here.
neytiro " when she gets older will tell her more about grace"
Jane " yes we will our baby girl will know she very special family here, and that will be here in person and sprit as well"
neytiro " yes that is true" the couple had soon smiled at each other, as they look at their kids. That night the family spelt near each other, Jane was going to give Kiri all the love she can but also tell her about Grace as well. Grace was there for her when she was at her lowest and now she, going to be there for Kiri.
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todayisafridaynight · 7 months
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born to do a Saeko Only y7 run forced to be technically illiterate
#snap chats#we all know if i knew how to mod id make so many stupid masadai screenshots but not the point#ive been obsessed with solo runs for rpgs for a while so NATURALLY i wanna ask the question if each y7 chara can solo the game#i was thinkin of saeko specifically cause. 1.) love u 2.) in my first playthrough i primarily used her for support#though subsequent playthroughs obvi i switched her up to be way more offensive#the only chara you really can do this with is ichi and MAYBE adachi since. well ichi's obvious but adachi's the earliest accessible#'what about nanba' girl he LEAVES FOR THREE CHAPTERS#and ofc you only get saeko come chapter 5 - same thing for eri. not gonna even MENTION joon gi and zhao LMAO#so obvi i dream of a mod where you can swap ichi- at least for battles- for any of the other party members#if youve seen rpg runs that ft multiple members at a time then yk the plan is to just have everyone else block and do nothing#or get them ko'd as fast as possible. but obvi in this Mod Reality i would just have The One character to make it. awful LMAO#i mean me and other rpg enjoyers think y7's easy enough so why not the extra challenge#adachi gets the Can Also Do This Run pass since he's playable just about as long as ichi is#exceptions being of course the first chapter / beginning of second chapter and the first sawashiro fight / chapter 3#i already know people are thinking of the jima fight.... throwing up at that thought#honestly i think JUST them might make the challenge impossible#at least with ichi you have the poundmates but the others Id Consider to be out of luck#itd be fun imo to see how far each chara could get tho#beyond grinding i think youd HAVE to master perfect guarding not just for the jimas but ESPECIALLY for tendo#kiryu doesnt exist to me. apparently. idk he was a wash on my first playthrought but joon gi WAS the unintentional punching bag so--#anyway im almost done with this comm i just gtta shade it so bye
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pallases · 3 days
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ourgejjg
#i am feeling so ill rn for no reason and i need to shower and wash my hair so bad but i can tell if i do it rn it’ll make the#lightheadedness ten times worse and there is a nonzero chance i will just pass out in there 😭#best guess is bc my period started today and yeah the first two days suck but they’re not usually This bad#personal#also this is the last thing i need rn it’s tech week and all rehearsals lately have been going/are going to go till 10 pm and i have no tim#to do all my assignments and my probability prof assigned a lab today that’s due TMRW AT MIDNIGHT? <- we usually get a class period btwn#it being assigned and the deadline and he’s not even giving us until the next class period to do it now like why is it due at midnight#instead of noon the next day… also i have not one but two exams immediately following this weekend and i really want to see my family for#easter but that sounds like such a bad idea im so unproductive at home and i’ll be busier than usual when i go home on top of that bc easte#and one of the exams is circuits for which exams are worth 90% of our grade and im averaging a 74% at the moment which is NOT#promising and. AAAAA#also have an exam this thursday which imnot nearly as worried abt but still. and i have to meet w someone abt a scholarship tmrw during my#free period so i Still can’t work on that stupid lab due tmrw night like. this sucks okay ‼️#the engineering chronicles#the music chronicles#i know it was only a matter of time before musical started stressing me out but 😭 please give me back the joys of saturday’s rehearsal…#oh also there’s ANOTHER probability lab due day after easter and same day as circuits exam and the prof is the same so he knows full well#what he’s doing like. why are you not giving us the usual period in btwn for these anymore fuck you <3#OH ALSO soldering qualification i need to do for like 3 hours wednesday the night before my thursday exam. nearly forgot abt that one i hat#it hereeee#soldering i could reschedule tho which i might do. but ive already pushed it back once so im like :/ do i really wanna do that#idk. still feel sick as fuck and still need to do physics prelab tonight 😭 it shouldn’t take long but i really don’t want to get up and#stare at my computer even more ifeel so awful rn#ANYWAY. sorry that was oversharing even for me i am just 😐 you know.
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bejeweledmp3 · 28 days
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totp is officially 40 thousand words long. And we're not even on the main scene of the first section yet.
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bunnyb34r · 4 months
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I know I should just block (and not OPEN) tags and posts ab '24 but my brain is stupid and likes to be informed even if it makes me worse
#marquilla#im not even joking when i say this next election makes me wanna kms so bad. im fucking terrified and i feel like we already know what's#gonna happen. not bc people arent voting or organizing i mean bc of how far the right has gotten and how angry they are that a#dem won so theyre gonna show up in droves and it's like god i wish we could idk have some safegaurds in place??? like oh idk you#incite an insurrection you Can't run for president?? but also that wouldnt fully stop shit bc florida has its own neo nazi running and#theres more behind him in the wings. but like idk man i just get so fucking suicidal thinking ab the future#and my drs. are like well then dont look at the news??? 'i sure dont' mkay thats great (not) but um i CAN'T not watch bc i need to#be informed i need to know. and they're like well then stop worrying ab it til election day?? LIKE THAT HELPS#so i just dont bring it up. and i just spiral and have breakdowns in the shower and think ab making a will and shit yknow normal stuff#bc this is fine! just dont engage! stop worrying it's like a year away! it MIGHT get better! idk Join in your community then??#like yes yes thats a start but with what fucking energy when im bedbound most of the time im not working and that doesnt stop these fascist#s like me helping the community garden would be good for the community and probably my mental health in general BUT that doesnt deal with#the actual fear that makes me wanna Kermit#like it really fucking feels like all i can do is pray and hope god somehow intervenes (rapture anyone?) and that things do go well and#that the outright outspoken nzis don't win but like I really just wanna die man#i know the outcome more than likely will not directly affect my life bc im white. cis passing. and can go back in the closet regretfully#but like that doesnt reassure me any bc i have friends and loved ones and generally just give a shit ab other people and how this WILL#affect them directly and that terrifies me. it really feels like we cant ever have a moment to just exist yknow??#idk man i just wanna die bc im so scared haha how fun (: how normal (: this is fine. everything is fine.
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