#this is not a safe space for them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

helloyellow17 · 1 year

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Idk man I might get torn to shreds for saying this, but I simply cannot understand the new trend, particularly among younger internet users, where people write a laundry list of their triggers in their bio and then expect everyone to read and cater to said list on a PUBLIC PLATFORM.

This is the same mentality that drives people to attack appropriately tagged fics on AO3 for having x y or z content because “How dare you post this when I have trauma about this???” Obviously if someone is going to write a super heavy and highly sensitive fic and NOT tag it properly, they ought to be called out on it. But this isn’t about that, it’s about the people who don’t curate their own content, it’s about the people who enter public spaces and demand that the general public cater to THEM specifically.

Additionally: Listing out your triggers for everyone to see is just ASKING for trolls to come into your inbox and flood you with triggering content. (Unfortunately, as much as we would like to believe otherwise, the internet is full of selfish jerks who don’t give a crap about anybody’s trauma.) Not only this, but the algorithm does not read your bio. The algorithm does not care about your triggers unless YOU make sure to block specific tags and content.

YOU are responsible for curating your own content, and nobody else.

Obviously this is not to say people shouldn’t try to tag their posts for common triggers, because that’s the common courtesy thing to do. But if Becky has a phobia of bees, it is on her to block that tag and curate her feed around it, and she does not get the exclusive right to suddenly demand that nobody talk about bees within a ten mile radius of her. If Alec has a phobia of dogs, then it is well within his right to avoid contact with them, but he doesn’t get to go to a public park and yell at anybody who brings their dog there. It is his responsibility to know his own limits and seek out parks that are dog-free. (If someone brings a dog to a dog-free area, that’s a whole different issue that I won’t be getting into rn but yes, the person who does that is in the wrong there.)

The internet is widely a public space. If you want to create a safe space completely and utterly free of your specific triggers, you have to put the work in to make that space for yourself. You don’t get to ask other internet strangers to do it for you.

I’m saying this out of genuine concern (and admittedly, frustration) because there are so many young teens in fandom nowadays who don’t understand this, and they end up putting themselves in extremely vulnerable and even downright dangerous situations because they don’t understand that putting your well-being in the hands of a stranger is a terrible idea.

Please be safe, and for the love of all that is holy, be reasonable. Curating your content yourself is just as much a protection for you as it is a vital key that allows public communities to function.

#hyramblings #fandom culture #internet discourse #trauma triggers #anxiety triggers #safe space #if I get one person saying “BUT WHAT IF SOMEONE IGNORES X AND DOES IT ANYWAY #we literally went over this #they’re a jerk and have responsibility too #but this ain’t about them rn #ya feel?#internet communities #fandom community

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dolleriumfluffle · 22 days

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I just desperately want more recognition of traumagenic experiences that lie outside of the usual "childhood abuse" assumption that everyone forces on that label. what about trauma from bullying? what about trauma from undiagnosed illnesses? what about trauma from queer experiences like transphobia? what about trauma from medical experiences like surgeries, hospitalizations, psych wards, and other areas where the medical field failed you? what about trauma from eating disorders? what about trauma from racism?

there are so many experiences that can fall under traumagenic, but are yet swept under a rug in favor of a strict, stereotypical narrative that's easier to comprehend. I think we as a community need to make an active effort to expand our understanding of traumagenic, especially where it may overlap with experiences traditionally considered endogenic, and understand that trauma can come in so many different forms. so often people are shunned for trying to create roles and labels that describe their specific traumagenic experiences, and I don't understand why. there can be no progress towards acceptance for all systems if we don't accept that traumagenic is an umbrella label too.

#dollerium speaks #🎠 | reona (he/she/doll/bun/eld/spell)#this came out very rambly #but just know if you have trauma that's considered 'not traditional' or 'not enough'#I see you and I appreciate you #plural #plural things #actually plural #pluralgang #plural system #actually did #hc did system #did osdd #a lot of these are things we experienced in life that 100% contributed to our system's function #and yet it feels like we're not allowed to talk about them #because they're not the 'usual' accepted trauma that's discussed in traumagenic spaces #pro endo #endo safe #endo safe blog

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hauntedhotel · 1 year

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As much as it isn't fun to hear Jon yelling at Martin, the end part of Mag 56 is so hilarious to me.

Listen, there is NO evidence to support Martin's claim about lying on his CV, and frankly it's kind of a weak cover story. You are required to show proof of your qualifications when you get a new job on the strength of them - not to mention ID - and even though on a relisten we know Martin's telling the truth and that Elias has his own reasons for hiring Martin, Jon doesn't know any of that. There's nothing to back up Martin's story and given how paranoid Jon's been since Prentiss, not to mention the fact that his specific concerns about Martin were that he might be hiding his own cunning behind the image of someone bumbling and soft (Jonathan "right for the wrong reasons" Sims strikes again) it is wild to me that he accepts this so quickly.

It's almost as though he's eager for Martin to be innocent, even though everything he's previously said about him would indicate that he'd rather it was Martin than Tim or Sasha, the assistants he respects professionally and likes on a personal level. It's so easy to picture him just blue-screening while poor Martin sits there expecting to be fired/screamed at again.

Martin: Okay, that's the truth, do your worst. Jon? Jon??

Jon, internally: Martin's innocent Martin lied to Elias but not me Martin didn't kill Gertrude Martin's safe Martin's still my friend Martin doesn't want me dead

Martin: Jon?

Jon, internally: MartinMartinMartinMartin

#tma #a mag a day #mag 56 #the magnus archives #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jmart #hotel talks about tma #if martins crush on jon really took hold when jon believed him about prentiss #took him seriously and did his best to keep him safe #then this is where jons crush on martin really started #when he realised that martin really did just care about him and all the tea and lunches and fussing were straightforward kindess #and that martin is a safe space for him too #neither of them have ever felt safe #obviously they would fall in love with the one person that tried so hard to keep them that way

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demigods-posts · 5 months

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i've seen so many posts talking about percy adopting luke's role as chb's big brother. and while i do love the sentiment of percy being that safe space for all of those demigods, i think it would make an equal amount of sense for annabeth to also adopt that role. she's been at camp since she was seven years old, so not only does she have a deep understand of the chb community, but she can sympathize with all the youngers campers who are struggling to find a family within that community. furthermore, she is a resourceful two-time war veteran with more experience than almost every person in that camp combined. annabeth could also be the older and experience camper for all of the newcomers. period.

#annabeth taking the good parts of what luke was for her and being that safe space for all of chb>>#annabeth empathizing will all of the younger campers and helping them adjust to their new life>>>#annabeth being the older camper she needed at their age>>>#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo text post #pjo #annabeth chase #annabeth chase is a badass #annabeth chase is the moment #we stan the daughter of athena #we stan a legend #we love annabeth #we worship annabeth #annabeth chase supremacy

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druidshollow · 7 days

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Space is suddenly thrown into a panic, so Phrases helps them ground themself.

hellooooooooooo this wasnt an excuse to draw phrases and space cuddling. no of course not. i think the flickering blue light flung them into a flashback regarding dunes attack since the flashing is similar to the power given off by her spear. flashbacks can be caused by even very small triggers which is something i think space unfortunately struggles with pretty often. theyve got a good support system now though <3 phrases speaks pretty repetitively at points here- they're aware that space isnt mentally in the present and they're asserting what they know to help. sometimes you have to repeat yourself many times for someone in a panic to hear you or really process what youre telling them

#rain world oc #iterator oc #rain world #rw downpour #off string au #druid draw #sequential #os phrases #os space #i could talk for so long about how space shuts their eyes because thats how they coped back in the divide. theyd look away #and now this is still their instinct but when theyre having flashbacks it just makes it harder to cement themself in reality #so phrases tries really hard to get them to look around them. but space is panicking and knows not looking to be safe #vicious cycle. theyre closing their eyes because theyre panicking but this only makes the flashback more vivid and real. thus prompting the #to look away

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c-duceusclay · 1 year

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I love Emily so much

“Do you have little rulers like Brennan does?” Gives the same energy as being a kid at your friend’s house and asking if they have the same fruit gushers you got at home

#AND MATT HAD THEM!!!#‘you mean like these?’#the critical role studio is a safe space #critical role #criticalrole #critrole #crit role #cr spoilers #cr c3e61

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scourgebff · 6 months

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at least we have each other

#warrior cats #wc #nightcloud #breezepelt #my art #i hc them as being very silly and playful when they’re alone together #night lets breeze act childish in a safe space away from judgement c’:

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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

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For ghostlights: baby Ellie + tired Danny + Duke the baby whisperer?

He has no idea how his parents did it.

Babies are exhausting. Toddlers more so. Any infants in the strange stage in-between? Doubly so.

Ellie is wonderful and sweet and cute and such a terror that Danny genuinely has no idea how his parents managed to raise not one, but two kids. For all their eccentricities and absent-mindedness, he and Jazz turned out pretty well. Ignoring the whole halfa thing because that’s more his fault than theirs even if Jazz says they shouldn’t have created the dangerous environment in the first place.

That environment is exactly why Danny refuses to let Ellie go to his house in Amity Park. His parents say they’ve disabled all the weapons and ecto-sensors since he’s had to reveal himself as Phantom, but he knows that things slip their minds and if they can’t guarantee that the house is safe, then Ellie isn’t going in there. Simple as that.

This means that they live somewhere else now. Danny had thought about it, during the hours Ellie was asleep and he was awake, exhausted and worn down to his bones, and took Jazz’s advice to accept Vlad’s offer of buying a house for him. Except he argued Vlad down to an apartment in a city of his choosing where he wouldn’t stand out too much and he would be safe, or as safe as he can be, from anyone trying to hunt down ghosts.

So here they are. Standing in the empty living room of their new apartment in Gotham.

Gotham may not be very safe as a city, but it’s good for two ghosts trying to pass as normal.

Danny sighs yet again, and looks at the space he’ll need to fill. At least Vlad is footing the bill. It’s the least he can do for creating Ellie. Frostbite was the one who was able to stabilize her, though it was almost too late and resulted in her reforming as a baby, just one and a half years old. Jazz is the one who’s choosing most of the furniture, thankfully, so it’s something that Danny doesn’t need to worry about it.

It’s a new start to their lives and it feels so empty. So overwhelming. How did his parents do it? How do any parents do it?

Ellie smacks a small palm against his cheek and babbles lightly.

“I know, Ellie,” Danny says, giving her a tired smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this place looking good in no time.”

He adjusts her in his arms, then heads towards the bedroom. It’s the only room that has any furniture, and all that’s there is a bed, a crib, and a bookcase. There are a few boxes on the floor, labeled ‘bedroom’ and ‘clothing’ and ‘books’. Most of it came from his bedroom in Amity Park, but he’s pretty sure he caught Jazz sneaking a few things in before they closed the boxes and loaded them up into the car.

“Can you be good for five minutes?” he asks Ellie.

She babbles again and smacks his shoulder.

“I’m taking that as an agreement. Just let me open these boxes and start unpacking before you start causing trouble, okay?”

Ellie makes another sound, but it seems agreeable so Danny carefully lays her down in the crib and gets to peeling off the tape on the boxes. The opens the one labeled ‘bedroom’ first, finding blankets and sheets folded and stacked in vacuum sealed bags. One of them is his old childhood blanket, the one he carried around everywhere that was faded with age, barely blue, with white bunnies decorating it.

He was so small when he had this. It makes him oddly emotional to unpack it and pass it on to Ellie, draping it over her so her pudgy little hands can grab at it.

This is no time to cry, though! He forces himself to focus and makes his own bed, shaking out the sheets and fluffing up the pillows. He’ll worry about washing everything later; Vlad made sure to get an apartment with an in-unit washer and dryer, which means he was actually sensible while apartment hunting for Danny.

He doesn’t mean to flop onto the bed once it’s made, but he ends up there anyways. He’s barely gotten a full six hours of uninterrupted sleep since Frostbite deemed Ellie healthy enough to leave his care. The drive up to Gotham was long and wore him down to his bones.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he does, drifting off as he wonders, distantly, when Jazz will be back from getting them dinner.

Ellie wakes him up at dawn with a loud cry. Danny jolts awake, heart pounding in his chest as he panics because Ellie isn’t here, she’s supposed to be in his arms, where is she? And then he sees the crib, where Ellie is staring at him through the bars, and he nearly collapses with relief.

“Morning, El,” he says, voice rough from sleep, as he picks her up. She just stares up at him, then leans forward and rests her head against his shoulder.

It’s quiet moments like these that make his heart melt. Ellie’s had a hard life already; he wants to give her a better one, this time around.

A quick check of the time on his nearly dead phone shows that it’s barely past six in the morning, and Jazz texted him a few times. All about furniture, saying that she didn’t want to wake them and that food is in the fridge.

It’s only the mention of food that makes him realize how ravenous he’s feeling. Danny makes a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring everything else, and pulls out the boxes of take-out Jazz left stacked in the fridge. He devours it like he’s been starving for weeks, then gives Ellie her Ecto-Jello, the only food she’s allowed to eat until Frostbite gives the okay for solid, human food.

Once he’s got her burped and cleaned up, Danny looks out of the kitchen and realizes that Jazz was very productive while he was asleep. The living room isn’t empty anymore; a dark green couch is against the wall, a low, rectangular coffee table made of dark wood in front of it. Two armchairs are on both sides of the couch, and a television has been installed, fixed into the wall.

Jazz is asleep on the couch. Her legs hang off an armrest and she’s drooling slightly.

Her phone is charging on the floor, so Danny takes it and snaps a picture of her for later teasing, then sends it to himself and writes a note to her that he’s going out with Ellie to explore the neighborhood.

He’s finally feeling more settled, energized from sleep and food.

In the warm dawn light spilling in through the windows, Danny looks down at Ellie and thinks that they’ll be just fine after all.

. . .

Four months ago, Danny had hope. He was optimistic.

Gotham was a fresh start, a new lease of life for Ellie. It is Danny’s attempt to be a single parent, sacrificing college for Ellie, and he’s planning to go out and beat the gangs black and blue if they start anymore shootouts in the next year.

He had just gotten Ellie to sleep. She was actually peacefully taking a nap.

And then a drive by shooter raced down the street, gunshots echoing down the road, and Ellie work up crying. She still hasn’t stopped, despite how Danny rocked her, soothing her as best he could.

They had been outside when Ellie fell asleep, her head on his shoulder. He had been catching up with Sam and Tucker when the car drove by, people ducking and crying out to avoid the bullets. Danny instinctively covered Ellie and made them both intangible, saving them from any stray bullets, but they ruined her nap and he needs to make them pay for that.

“Shh,” he soothes, “You’re okay. We’re both fine. It’s okay, El, it’s okay.”

Her little hands clutch at his back, twisting the fabric of his shirt, and she lets out a heartbreaking wail. He pats her back, hurrying down the street to get back to his apartment building, ignoring the looks people were giving them as they passed by.

“I know it was scary, but you’re alright. You’re always safe with me, El.”

Ellie’s cries down down a little, but they don’t stop. She whimpers, burying her face against his shoulder as he finally reaches their apartment building.

The door’s locked, which wouldn’t be a problem except Danny can’t get his keys from his pocket. He knows he has them! But his pocket refuses to relinquish them and he has to stop every few seconds to pat Ellie’s back, trying in vain to calm her down.

“We’ll be inside in a second,” he tells her, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, “as soon as I can get these freaking keys!”

“Hey, you alright?”

Danny startles, whirling around so fast it makes Ellie go quiet, clinging to him so she doesn’t get flung into the air. There’s a guy standing before him in a gray hoodie, looking at him with clear concern. It speaks to Danny’s level of constant exhaustion that he hadn’t clocked someone sneaking up behind him.

The guy offers an awkward smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or anything. Um, do you need me to open to door? I live here too.”

Danny wonders for a moment if this someone dangerous, someone hoping to hurt Ellie, but she starts to cry again and he steps to the side. “Please. I can’t get my keys.”

“I’m Duke, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“Danny,” he replies, watching as Duke pulls out a large key ring, jangling with the amount of keychains on it, and easily opens the door. “I’ve been here a few months, but I’m usually inside. Or walking around in the mornings with this little monster.”

“That would explain it,” Duke says as he holds the door open, letting Danny in first. “I’m usually in classes at GCU, but I decided to take a mental health day after my lab, so here I am.”

Danny walks in and waits for Duke to follow, making sure the door closes properly behind them. “Thanks. How is GCU? What do you study? I was thinking of going there myself once she gets a little older and can go to school.”

“Oh, I’m majoring in English and Human Services.” He goes to say more, but Ellie wails again and Danny winces.

“I’m so sorry. That drive by woke her up and it’s really rattled her.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I get it, Gotham is rough to kids.”

Danny tries rocking her back and forth, but it doesn’t help. He resigns himself to another hour of her crying before she exhausts herself, and makes for the stairs, going up to the fourth floor. Duke holds open the door again, then follows after them. It makes Danny wonder if Duke is planning to do something to them, then decides he can beat Duke in a fight, so it’s fine.

Duke doesn’t try to hurt them or steal Ellie away. He opens the door to their floor and stops before they do. “I’m in here,” he says, “If you ever need me to open more doors.”

“Thanks. Um, actually, I might need help opening mine?”

Duke just smiles and makes his way back to them, following them farther into the hall until Danny stops in front of his apartment.

“If I could just get my keys,” he starts.

“Here, let me hold her for a second so you can get them,” Duke offers. Danny wants to insist that it’s fine, but Ellie cries directly into his ear and Danny, at the end of his rope, passes her over.

Like magic, Ellie settles as soon as she’s in Duke’s arms. She sniffles and hides her face away, clutching to Duke’s hoodie, but she stops crying. They both go still, surprised, and stare down at her.

“Seriously?” Danny says as he finally pulls out his keys, “Are you trying to say that I’m the problem?”

Ellie babbles lightly, and Duke turns his head to futilely hide his grin.

He grumbles as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. Ellie is acting as if she’s never been upset before a day in her life, making herself at home in Duke’s arms.

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own blood.”

Duke laughs as he follows Danny into his apartment, lightly patting Ellie’s back. “It’s always the smallest, cutest ones that do this.”

“Yeah? Do you work with a lot of kids or something? Used to being betrayed by the little ones?”

“I don’t work with kids per se,” Duke says, “But my foster family is a hot mess and the youngest of them likes to keep us all on our toes.”

“Family,” Danny says in a tired, fond tone.

“Family,” Duke agrees.

With his door open and Ellie calm, Danny’s ready to just lay face down on the floor for the rest of the day and not deal with anything else. He moves to take Ellie back, holding his arms out, and Duke tries to pass her over.

The key word being tries.

Ellie tightens her grip and kicks at Danny. She refuses to be taken away from Duke, making him awkwardly try to pry her off his hoodie. Danny really hopes Duke doesn’t notice how she goes slightly intangible to make his hands fall through her arms and legs. It shouldn’t be noticeable, but it’s hard to focus on anything but a kid that clings to you, so Danny holds out for Duke’s goodwill and silence.

“As nice as it is to meet you, you need to go back to your… parent?” Danny nods when Duke looks at him in askance. “You need to go back to your parent. Okay? Come on, kid, he’s waiting for you.”

Ellie shakes her head, makes a frustrated noise, and then turns and reaches out a grabby hand towards Danny.

She still refuses to be taken from Duke when Danny tries to pick her up again, so he settles with just letting her hold two of his fingers.

“I’m so sorry about this,” he says to Duke, face burning. This is why he hasn’t been going out and being social since he moved in; Ellie is a handful even on the best days, and Danny doesn’t want someone to judge him as unfit to parent her and have her taken away.

Duke shakes his head, stepping closer. “It’s all good, man. I don’t mind. It’s not like I had any plans today. I’m already skipping my classes, might as well spend it with you two than sleep all day.”

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to invite you in, but I know Ellie can be a lot and not everyone wants to spend their day off with a baby.”

“I’m sure. Besides, I’d just be down the hall anyways. It’s no skin off my back, man.”

“Well,” Danny says, stepping to the side to give Duke full access to his open doorway, “Come on in, then.”

Ellie keeps them connected, one hand in Duke’s hoodie and the other holding Danny’s fingers, and though her cheeks are still red from how hard she had been crying, she’s calm now with her eyes shining with mischief.

As the door closes behind them, Danny realizes that this is the first time someone he’s not related to has been inside his apartment. Not even Vlad has come in, always choosing to invite Danny and Ellie out for lunch instead.

It should make him nervous, but Duke is calm and easy going and kind.

He’s making silly faces at Ellie to make her laugh, completely at ease with her in his arms, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Gotham is a second chance at life for Ellie. It’s a sacrifice for Danny, to be alone and without friends or family around. He’d been ready to give up everything for Ellie, to focus solely on raising her, but with Duke filling his apartment with laughter, he thinks that he can make a life here too.

All he needs to do is take that first step, reach his hand out, ask Duke to stick around.

He can do this.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #i really love writing about characters struggling to be parents v suddenly and thru unconventional means #so here's danny a year out of high school living on his own for the first time w baby ellie #and duke who needed some space and independence while he's in college. bruce pays for the apartment while duke works part time for grocerie #and ellie who had been fully developed but unstable is now a halfa baby who remembers stuff but is also. yknow. a baby.#she absolutely latched onto duke to force danny to have a life outside of her. but also she can sense that hes kind and calm #which danny needs bc he is Stressed (tm)#this leads to duke bringing over food for them and looking after ellie while danny goes shopping or naps #both of them ignoring how duke has to leave suddenly for Hero Related Reasons and how danny and ellie have Powers #it's a v delicate balance they keep for the sake of keeping ellie safe #yeah they're gonna co-parent and realize they're basically dating after MONTHS of pining #the bats have bets on who gives bruce a grandkid first and literally no one bet on duke but here he is lol :)#thanks for the prompt!!

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maatdraws · 1 year

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If you feel cramped in this world, it's not you who is badly shaped. It's because you're here to change it.

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #myart #i want them happy for the rest of their life #i want everyone to know that i'm a safe space for everyone #happy pride #happy joy #happy love #H A P P Y

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puppetmaster13u · 4 months

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Prompt 209

Now Jason was planning on, well, a lot of things, when he came back to Gotham. He had a lot of plans, several of which had to do with the old man and even more that had to do with cleaning up Crime Alley, making it safer and all that.

What he was not planning on was to find some sort of lab in the basement of where he was planning on setting up a safehouse. Nor was he planning on finding several literal children in cages inside said lab. Oh and Lazarus Waters- but children! With muzzles! Being experimented on!

Now he’d like to say he had a plan in what happened next, but if he’s honest everything had gone Green and he didn’t remember what happened next, only that he’s back home with said children and covered in blood. Oh and everything smells of smoke.

… And apparently there’s more of these things dotted around Crime Alley with the rest of these kids, er, siblings? Family? Fright does mean family? Okay kids, he’s not turning into Bruce but you can stay here while he deals with this… however long that takes.

He better not be turning into Bruce he swears-

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Liminal Class #Ghosts are Dragons #Halfa Jason Todd #Not that he knows that #The kids are sticking with him because he registers as Safe #And look they WERE teens but they’re not anymore and they’re TINY and in an UNKNOWN space with only like half their memories #They’re taking what they can get #Jason is very concerned the first time he witnesses them going partially dragon (even if they can’t do a full transformation yet)#He is freaking out way more when he Does fully transform in one of the later labs with no warning thx to one of the scientists shooting #something at him #Now the Bats are scrambling to find out about Hood because this no longer looks like crime lord bullshit #and more like a non-human entity whose offspring has been stolen and is attacking to get them back #Well from what can be seen from the Ecto spikes messing with tech #Jason has no clue how he ended up taking care of 13+ (why do you have so many shadow clones Kwan) children #Jason: Oh god my hoard is children I can never let anyone know #His Merry Men: Okay this is the safest person to leave our kids with and work for he would very much kill for any child #New Goon: Okay but are we gonna talk about the-#Merry Men: No we don't talk about the fact that he turns into a giant dragon and if anyone asks No He Doesn't

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syoddeye · 14 days

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down the hatch

141 x reader, featuring a smidgen of soapgaz in this bit. ~1.5k words.

continuation of you thought your life was over when your psycho, end-of-days conspiracy theorist austrian neighbor kidnapped you.

tags: poly141, soapgaz depicted. reader is a little cuckoo for coco puffs after being alone for three months. voyeurism. half-assed masturbation. a gun. kind of crackfic, kind of not.

banner from @/cafekitsune

“we’re not gonna hurt you,” ballcap insists, crouching to open the cupboard under the sink.

“just a little,” dry bones adds, not bothering to lower his voice.

“he’s lying, kitty, swear we won’t hurt you.”

holed up in the surveillance room, you listen over the crackling feed through the attached headset, absolutely fuming. panicking, too, but the door is shut and locked. the seal blends with the maintenance room’s panels, and the button to open it is hidden in the electric panel. the bunker’s build, many cameras, and folding bunks in the second bedroom suggest the austrian had long-term plans to repopulate earth or intended to abduct others but ran out of time.

either option would’ve blown, but now, his paranoia and apparent voyeurism came in handy. the stupid, unwashed idiots look dumb as hell crawling around looking for you.

after a while, they assemble in the kitchen and spend the next hour taking inventory. they are not impressed by the yanni collection, but they are intrigued by the bed you stopped making and the half-completed puzzle of the eiffel tower. you snarl as ballcap completes one of the corners. fucking uncivilized freaks, trampling all over puzzle etiquette. if you didn’t have the external feed and a pile of hardened ooze for proof, you’d know the world had gone to hell in a handbasket. depraved.

eventually, scragglebeard rustles up dinner. it’s obscene, the amount of food he uses. the men lounge and luxuriate in your kitchen and your living room. it doesn’t look like they’ve struggled for much. they eat like a pack of feral dogs when presented with a stew and mash. mohawk produces a half-full bottle of liquor, and the four nitwits have the nerve to toast the discovery of their new home.

a growl from your stomach tempers your outrage. you didn’t consider supplies when you hid. just survival.

the men laze after their meal.

“gonna go have a shower.” mohawk announces, slapping his thighs as he stands.

“thank christ.” dry bones jeers.

“join me?”

you straighten in the swivel chair. that's unexpected.

“nah, i’ll go later.”

“is it an open invite?” ballcap asks.

“always.”

“warm it up for us, then.”

you won’t use the cameras that the austrian installed in the bathrooms—that’s crossing a line. then, a minute later, ballcap follows mohawk, and walks right past the three-quarter-finished eiffel tower. you think, vive la france, joie de vivre, or whatever.

a pity the cameras in the bathrooms don’t have speakers. the lens is a bit foggy, but the view is decent. the men waste no time stripping.

the camera sits in a vent, points through the grate, and into the showers. they’re in the stall closest to the door, convenient. mohawk pins ballcap to the slick tile, his hands gripping the other man’s hips so tight you see his knuckles whitening. desperate thing.

it’s kind of boring after a few minutes. mostly mohawk sloppily kissing and nipping at ballcap’s mouth and lips, occasionally detouring down his neck. their junk is mostly hidden at this angle, presumably slippery from the shower and all the dry-humping. wet-humping? ballcap kneads the fat of mohawk’s ass, his eyes fluttering when a particular patch of his throat gets attention.

fuck, okay, maybe this is more titillating than you originally thought. you adjust in the chair, finding the seam of your jorts (craftily fashioned from men’s jeans you found in a closet), and slowly grind along it. it’s lazy, but you’re not gonna stick your hand down your pants if this is all you’re getting.

and as if reading your mind, mohawk breaks from ballcap’s grip and sinks to his knees. his juvenile haircut flops flat under the water, but ballcap’s dick sure doesn’t. even through the sub-optimal camera feed, you know it’s pretty. the way mohawk immediately hones in confirms, licking up the underside and palming his sack. when he finally gets his mouth to the good part, you unbutton your fly, shove two fingers in your mouth, and lean back.

near-constant masturbation lost its novelty around week three, but it's like riding a bike. you manage a few good, firm circles, beckoning heat out of hibernation when sudden movement on the camera startles you right out of a lovely, burgeoning haze.

fuck bucket. ballcap has mohawk hoisted by the armpit, their abandoned cocks practically wagging. he’s rapidly speaking and pointing right at the fucking vent. how the hell he spotted the tiny red light, you don’t know, but dry bones and scragglebeard stumble into the bathrooms moments later.

dry bones disappears beneath the frame, and the camera shakes slightly as the vent cover comes off. he steps back, mouth moving beneath his mask, and the four men exchange looks.

scragglebeard speaks as the naked men hastily dress, then start a second sweep of the bunker. this time, armed with the knowledge that somebody’s watching, they don’t split up. they move as a unit.

you watch in horror as they upend the bunker. they move furniture, poke outlets, and empty all the shelves to feel for switches and levers. distantly, you think you would’ve made for a decent escape room operator in the before times. you stifle a mad laugh at the idea, nearly choking when they finally enter the maintenance room.

hand pressed to your mouth, you breathe shallowly as they search. they’re more careful, skipping the electric and valves altogether, probably afraid if they fuck with anything too much, the power or water will go out. they check the ridges between the panels, and you hold your breath as dry bones runs his fingers along the hidden seal.

he stops and peels off a glove. pressing his palm to the secret door’s front, he hums. he glances over his shoulder, directly into the camera, then at scragglebeard.

“the wall’s warmer here.”

“think there’s something behind it, lt?” mohawk asks.

lt. initials?

mohawk shoulders dry bones out of the way, pressing his full cheek to the panel and paws at the metal. you freeze, unsure if you’re breathing at this point.

“think it’s residual heat from wiring.'' mohawk finally concludes, pulling away with a shrug. ‘lt’ looks unconvinced, and scragglebeard itches at his namesake.

“it’s gettin’ late. let’s bed down, look again in the morning.”

“you’re not worried someone’s watching us, sir?”

sir? ooh, is it like that? kinky.

“no. if they are, they know we’re armed and in good health. ‘sides. we’re going to cover them.”

your mouth dries. no. no. no. no. fuck, your one advantage.

the men file out, and lt leaves last. he fishes a strip of cloth from a pocket and stuffs it around the camera’s base, obscuring its view.

“gonna find ya.” he mutters.

one by one, they cover the cameras they’ve found, leaving you with only three. thank you, austrian freakshow, for not skimping on surveillance. you still see the living room, a sliver of the kitchen, and the maintenance hall. it’s not much, but it’s enough to inspire a plan.

you watch the men turn in for the night. you’re not stupid, though. you wait an hour and a half until there’s no further movement, and the bunker’s dark. it’s now or never.

sneak out. grab food, water, and a kitchen knife. flee the bunker. easy.

if it’s still standing, your old one-bedroom rental is a short distance away. you’ll fortify it, then work on luring the rats out of your nest.

tiptoeing past the bedrooms, at least two of the men saw logs. ugh. didn’t miss that in the apocalypse.

in the kitchen, you gather supplies. tins of tuna, soup, and vienna sausages. the last potatoes. some protein bars. a reusable water bottle. salt and pepper. (spices and seasonings are on the top of your scavenging list.)

satisfied, you tie the corners of your makeshift bindle together and turn to head to the entrance point when your eyes drift over a small shape in the dark. there, atop a side table in the adjoining living room, is a handgun.

in theory, you know how to use it. you logged a good thousand hours on goldeneye 007 as a kid. loads more effective than the paring knife in your hand.

you creep toward it, eyes widening and heart racing. could use on the interlopers while they sleep. but how would you get their bodies out of the bunker? you don’t want to training montage until your muscles swell, not with their corpses doing the same thing in the spare bedroom.

no. much more useful out there. you reach for it.

and somebody reaches for you.

a hand closes around your forearm, squeezing hard to force you to drop the knife, and another wraps around your head, hand clamping over your mouth before you can cry mon dieu.

the wrapped cans clatter and smash to the ground in the struggle. a deep voice, harsh in your ear and tinged with insufferable smugness, whispers.

“told ya i was gonna find ya.”

#you’re what the french call les incompétents.#we love crazy quasi-loser readers over here this is a safe space #the time-honored tradition of giving them the dumbest nicknames continues #i wrote that nice little price piece to self-soothe and then immediately was like well now i have to write something absurd #poly141 #141 x reader

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