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taylorman2274 · 2 months

Text

Reverse Isekai Genshin Shenanigans

Characters: Gorou, Diona, Fischl & Oz, GN!Reader

Relationship: Platonic

Genre: Humor

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Gorou and your pet dog have been getting along recently. I wonder why...?

Content Warning: Gorou Hangout Spoilers

Notes: [D/N] = Dog Name; Gorou can read English presumed.

Gorou was spending the day sitting on the couch and reading a book when your pet dog walks up to him. He barks at him to get his attention.

"Ah, [D/N], I haven't seen you in a while. Would you like to come join me?" He asks, patting the open seat beside him.

[D/N] instead woofs at him.

"Hm? What's that?"

[D/N] woofs a little louder.

"You're hungry? Have you had anything to eat today?"

[D/N] whines softly.

"Well that won't do! I'll go ahead and fill up your food bowl and then I'm going to have a talk with [Y/N] about taking proper care of you."

Gorou gently sets the book down to the side and starts to get up when a loud voice halts his movements.

"Do NOT listen to ANYTHING that LIAR is telling you! I'll let you know that I fed them nearly an hour ago!"

You walked through the doorway and approached [D/N] with a leash in hand.

"Also... Guess who's got an appointment with the vet today~?" You ask with a sickingly sweet smile on your face.

[D/N] barks as loud as he can right to your face and growls lowly afterwards. You look to Gorou and can't help but let out a small chuckle at the mixture of shock and horror on his face.

"What's the matter?" You ask with a smirk. "Did they cuss me out or something?"

"...I never knew such profanity existed..." Gorou shuddered.

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Your best friend gives Diona a bad good idea on how to destroy the alcohol industry.

Content Warning: Diona Lore Spoilers

Notes: [F/N] = Friend Name

You, Diona, and your best friend, [F/N], were currently all sitting at your kitchen table taste testing Diona's latest non-alcoholic concoction. More specifically, only [F/N] was doing the drinking. Diona only wanted to make the drinks and there was no way in hell you were gonna drink anything she makes with the stuff that is put in them, even if you know how good it will taste.

Currently, [F/N] was happily gulping down Diona's latest creation, which only seemed to anger Diona.

"*glug* ... *glug* ... Ah~. This has got to be one of the best drinks I have ever had in my life!" [F/N] proclaims as they slam their empty cup on the table. "What did you say was in this drink, Diona?"

"Grrr... I put a few pieces of cat hair, a whole lemon, a pinecone, and a cockroach I found hiding under the kitchen counter in a blender and then poured all of that into a glass of water." Her hair started to bristle. "Why is it that no matter what disgusting things I put in a drink it's STILL bound to taste delicious?"

You cringed as she listed each ingredient to [F/N] and you expected them to do the same. However, they surprisingly looked deep in thought.

"Hold on... You're saying that ANYTHING you put in the drink is not going to change how good it tastes?"

"YES! Isn't that obvious to y-?"

"So you could put something deadly like poison into the drink and it would be the best tasting death drink you could ever have?" [F/N] interrupted.

"But of course. Even something like poi-" Diona paused. Her ear twitched. Slowly but surely, you could see an evil smile come across her face.

"Did you have to mention that to her?" You sighed.

"Hey, no need to get mad at me. I'm simply supporting her cause." [F/N] smiled with a thumbs up and a wink.

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It seems that Fischl has another side to her that you were previously unaware of.

Content Warnings: Out of Character Fischl, Swearing

Notes: [F/N] = Friend Name

"I'm back! Sorry for being away so long." You called out as you entered your apartment. Surprisingly, there was no response given back. It was quiet.

...Too quiet.

When you first left, you knew that there were two people and a talking raven occupying your apartment. One of which was your best friend, [F/N], who you had told to watch over the others, Fischl and Oz, while you were away. You had also told them to not let them leave the apartment for now, as you could not explain to any strangers why a strange looking girl had a talking raven with her.

You explored your apartment for any signs of life and eventually, you found Fischl and Oz in your bedroom standing next to the closet door. However, you had visited every other room in your apartment and were unable to find [F/N].

"Hey Fischl, do you know where [F/N] is? I couldn't find them anywhere."

Fischl and Oz turned around to look at you.

"Hmph! That mere pitiful human wished to make an enemy out of the Prinzessin. However, my Auge der Verurteilung foresaw their attempt to divert the course of destiny. Thus, I commanded Oz to rid them and their sins from my sight and doom them to waste away in the eternal night."

You raised an eyebrow. "You what?"

Oz decided to speak up next. "I'm afraid Mein Fräulein was challenged by [F/N] to a card game. During the game, Fräulein claimed [F/N] was cheating and thus decided to lock them in your closet.

Your head whipped toward Fischl. "YOU WHAT?!"

"THEY UNO'ED OUT ON AN ARCHON DAMN WILDCARD! THAT'S WHAT THAT FUCKER GETS!!"

You and Oz had your mouth and beak, respectively, agape by Fischl's outburst. After a couple of seconds, Fischl noticed your shocked expressions and recomposed herself.

"Ahem... Apologies. Mein behavior was very uncouth of a Prinzessin."

You heard banging from inside the closet.

"[Y/N]?! Get me out of here! That witch is crazy!!"

You quickly threw yourself between the closet door and Fischl and prayed for a resolution between the two.

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Diona discovers the history behind the 18th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution.

Content Warning: American History

Notes: Reader is presumed to be from the United States. Diona is also presumed to be able to read English.

You and Diona were at your computer looking up American history. Diona was curious about the would and country you lived in so you decided to try your best to teach her all of the important historical events that you remember learning in school.

However, you made sure to hide all mentions of Genshin Impact on your computer before letting Diona come watch. You didn't want her to have an existential crisis.

The two of you were currently scrolling through the list of amendments in the U.S. constitution and Diona suddenly told you to stop.

"Wait stop! See that one! What does that say?" She asked, slowly inching forward to the screen.

"Ummmm... 'The Eighteenth Amendment is also known as the Prohibition Law. This prohibited the manufacture, sale, or transportation of 'intoxicating liquors.' This essentially meant a ban on alcohol bu-'"

Diona pushed you away from the computer and looked at the screen with sparkles in her eyes.

"WHAT?! NO WAY! THAT'S AWESOME! Looks like Mondstadt could learn a thing or two from your country. Hehehe." She snickered.

You carefully moved your way back in front of the computer. "Maybe. It's unfortunate that it didn't last very long."

Diona looked at you with a serious expression. "...What?"

"You didn't let me finish. 'This essentially meant a ban on alcohol BUT this would lead to the Prohibition Era of bootleg alcohol sales and consumption. The unpopular and ineffective amendment was then repealed by the 21st Amendment.' Essentially, it only lasted 14 years."

Diona was stuttering in shock. "H-huh? W-what? 14 YEARS?? Could everyone not see that they were living in PARADISE?!! UGH!" She crossed her arms. "Those drunkards would do anything to get their hands on alcohol. Who's the idiot that repealed that wonderful amendment in the first place??"

You quickly opened a new tab and searched for the answer. "Umm... Franklin D. Roosevelt was President at the time. But it's really Congress who handles the proposals and ratifying amendments."

Diona threw her hands up. "I don't CARE who handles it. That man should not have let such a thing get past him." Diona pauses for a bit, almost like she was thinking about something. "Unless..." She gasps. "Was he a drunkard himself?!"

You opened another tab. "Ummmm... Kind of?"

"GRRR…! OF COURSE HE WAS! Otherwise he wouldn't let such a thing happen! Looks like this country needs someone responsible to man the helm! Move aside!"

You decided to play along with her for now. You weren't worried about her finding anything inappropriate as long as you were watching over her shoulder.

At first, she searched up innocent things such as "How to run for President", "Can someone of Kätzlein bloodline run for President", and "How to become a U.S. citizen".

It was only when she decided to search for "How to mind control an entire country" that you decided to get her off the computer.

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Author Side Notes: These are just some short stories I thought of in my head. Please don’t take them too seriously.

#genshin impact #genshin reverse isekai #reverse isekai #reverse isekai genshin #genshin gorou #genshin diona #genshin fischl #platonic #platonic genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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blanketbvby · 2 months

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A Demon's Guide to Anthropology

part: 3

Word count: 657

Tags: use of 'MC's and they/them pronouns, sensory sensitivity on MC's end, written to be seen as sensory processing disorder, written based on my experience with it but I tried to change it to be broader

Word: "sensory"

Beel's time to shine :], also this is genuinely such bad writing I'm sorry, gonna come back and edit this to be better some day lol

★• ——— –– -

Beelzebub is a lot more perceptive than people like to give him credit for. With brothers like his and being an athlete, he has to be in order to know what's going on.

Which is why it doesn't take him long to notice the way that MC shies away from a lot of foods, clothes, and objects. Completely random to the common eye, but Beelzebub is most concerned with the food issue.

It's not like MC doesn't eat, not at all, they're healthy and never skin out on a good, fresh meal, but they're always so odd with what they eat.

Meats are off the table most of the time, which isn't all that bad. A lot of people just don't like meat. But some drinks and a good few veggies and fruits added onto that is what confuses him.

Maybe MC was just a picky eater, which again is fine, Devildom foods are weird to get used to, but it also seemed prevalent in human foods, too. To Beel, it seemed completely random, from a few spicy foods to a few sweets and sours, in his eyes he couldn't find a common connection.

So with a breath, he knocked on MC's door and entered when he was allowed.

Beelzebub wasn't normally so nervous or anxious, but he knew human bodies were delicate and didn't want MC and their odd aversions to certain objects or foods to somehow leave a bad mark.

"MC," he began after entering and shutting the door. The human sat in their bed with their D.D.D. in hand, "I have a question."

Intruiged and curious as always, MC responds.

"What's up, Beel? Something wrong?"

"Are you okay?" MC blinks, a little caught off guard at the vague question. The giant demon stood above them, looking down and vaguely reminding the human of a large dog looking at a toy it was attached to.

"Uh- elaborate?"

"You don't eat some stuff and you don't touch some things."

To their credit, MC understood after a moment, and they tried not to seem rude by the way they gave a laugh and smile, shaking their head.

"Do you mean how I don't like touching certain fabrics or eating certain foods?" The ginger nodded at the question.

"That's kinda common for humans," MC explained, "It's called sensory sensitivity. Some textures feel really bad to touch or to eat, so I tend to avoid them. Nothing is wrong with me, I promise."

Beelzebub nodded in solemn understanding, sitting beside the mortal on the rather Plush and comfortable bedding. In his hands was a small box of cookies he knew they favored a lot that he'd taken with him. It took everything in Beelzebub's power not to tear the box open and have at the cookies himself.

"So you can't have some foods or wear some things because they feel weird?"

MC nodded, though they didn't seem very down about it. To them, it was simply another day like any other, knowledge as common as grass is green and Luke despises anything demonic.

To Beelzebub, though, it solidified his resolve as he passed the now opened box of cookies over, one in hand and another in his mouth.

"What food can you not have? I'll eat them for you."

The serious expression to the previous words caused another laugh to bubble out of MC, and they took their own cookie from the box.

"It's hard to explain, but I'll pass you any whenever they come with a meal I have. Deal?"

Beelzebub nodded and put a hand on MC's head (the demon struggled sometimes with such casual affection and touch with most people, but had recently picked up on simply resting a hand on the mortal's head and leaving it there for a minute), and after a few moments a comfortable silence and sharing cookies, he spoke once more.

"Hell's Kitchen?"

"Hell's Kitchen."

#blanketbvby #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #i did beel's so dirty im sorry 😭

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delicate-luv · 9 months

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Two Become One ~ Chapter Two

Summary: The morning after a night spent with Eddie, your suspicions begin to rise on who he really is.

CW: 18+, MDNI, one night stands, cheating, mention of miscarriage, mention of pregnancy, home wrecking, minimal use of Y/N, fem!reader,

Masterlist

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You rubbed your eyes that morning, not recognizing where you were. You had a pounding headache and never felt more like a zombie in your life. You let out a loud groan as you flipped onto your other side, making the whole bed shake.

'Shit. I should not have done that.'

You regretted doing that as soon as you heard the man next to you yawn and slowly sit up.

"Woah. Who the fuck are you?" He jumped up, seeing a mysterious woman in his bed.

"I'm y/n. I was at your show last night. You invited me here.”

He put his palms over his face. "Oh, shit."

You could tell he suddenly remembered what happened by the way his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and he sighed. "You should leave. I should have never brought you here."

"Huh?"

"You can't be in here? I have- never mind. Anyway, you have to leave, now." His tone becoming more of an alarmed one.

He jumped up and ran into the kitchen. You chased after him. "What are you talking about? You gave me a cigarette with your number on it." What was so urgent? What is he hiding? Your hangover could wait.

"Wait, what? I only give those out to fans who think they'll have a chance with me. They call me, and I never answer. It's only to instill false hope that I'll sleep with them. I never actually sleep with them!" He became frantic, shoving a pair of black skinny jeans on, whispering yelling "shit!" and "fuck!" amongst mumbling other obscenities that you couldn't quite make out.

"What time is it?" He asked in a panic, slipping on a black tank top.

You looked at a nearby clock on the wall. "Just about 10 a.m."

"Son of a bitch! I have to go. You can find your own way out." He ran out the door, grabbing his keys and wallet.

The fuck was that for?

Before you wanted to even process that fact that you cheated on Ezra last night, you decided to do something even more morally wrong. You snooped around his apartment, trying to find pieces of his life. You needed to know more. He seemed too perfect. Not a single rockstar lives a perfect life and isn't hiding something deep.

The first place you looked was his nightstand. He had guitar pics lined up, a pair of die, some old photographs, a pack of condoms, nothing out of the ordinary. You then walked over to his closet. There was a shoe box filled with things that had 'Otis' written on the front in black sharpie. There was a hand drawn heart that was also on the front.

Your heart was telling you to rip open that box, and dig through the belongings. Your brain was telling you no, to give him privacy. You were always the person who did what your brain wanted, but in this case, you followed your heart.

The first thing you saw was a sonogram picture. You let out a loud gasp and immediately regretted your decision. You closed the box up quickly and ran out of his house. You called Scarlett to pick you up down the road.

You couldn't believe what you had done.

Half of the car ride home was spent with you staring out the window, rethinking the recent events.

"What's so bad? You were gonna cut things off with Ezra soon anyways."

"Scarlett, it's different." You groaned.

"How, exactly?"

"I snooped through his things." You said quietly, full of shame. It was just loud enough for her to hear.

"Oh my god!" She gasped. "You know that's top 10 things not to do during a hookup."

"I couldn't help it. There's just something that I saw in him."

"Yeah yeah, if I got a penny for every time you said that, I'd be rich right now."

"So, do you want to know what I saw?"

"Lay it on me. I don't think this story could get any worse."

"I opened a shoebox that has 'Otis' written on it. I just thought it would be like a box for a dog, because Otis is, like, a dog name. But no, there was a sonogram picture. I didn't take a good look at anything else but I could tell it was bad. There was a lot of light blue, which I'm assuming could be baby clothes, maybe a baby blanket?"

Scarlett slammed on the breaks, "Jesus Christ! y/n l/n is a home wrecker!" She broke out into laughter.

"Scarlett! It's not funny! I think I just had a one night stand with a man with a baby! He could even be married!"

"Was he wearing a ring?"

"He was wearing a lot of rings. I didn't get a good glance at his ring finger." You started to bite your nails anxiously. You knew you had to call the number on the cigarette.

You thought about Eddie and his situation for the remainder of the day. 'Was he married? Was Otis even his baby? Why didn't you see or hear a baby the entire night? Maybe he and his partner had a miscarriage? Is his partner pregnant right now? Why didn't he say something?' The many possibilities roamed your head and kept you up that night. You knew you had to do something to fix this mess you've created.

You were the girl all of the people in your town knew and loved. Your life was always the talk of the town. You had the perfect life, perfect boyfriend, perfect house, perfect friends, perfect clothes, perfect job. Who knew you would be the one to break up a family?

After a week of the thoughts eating you alive, you couldn't take it anymore. You dialed the number on the cigarette, but there was no answer. You knew what was coming, there was no other choice.

You drove over to Eddie's home. You needed answers. Luckily, you could easily find where he lived since it was the only trailer park in town.

When you arrived at his trailer, you slammed the car door shut. Anger fueled your walk to his front door. You were finally going to get the answer you deserved.

You banged on the front door multiple times until a voice could be heard from the inside.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, relax!"

He slightly opened the door, sighing in disappointment when he saw it was you, and slamming it back shut. Before he could get the door all the way closed, you stopped it with your foot.

"Eddie, we need to talk." You opened the door wider to reveal Eddie shirtless, and he was bouncing a 2 year old on his hip. You gasped. "Is this your-"

"Yep. Now what do you want?"

"Are you married? What was that one night stand to you?"

He shrugged. "Well, that one night stand to me, was a one night stand. I don't know what you mean."

"Are you married?"

"Not anymore."

Your mouth fell open. You immediately jumped to conclusions, thinking you were the reason they are no longer married. "Did I possibly...have anything to do with the fact that you are no longer married?"

He quickly denied. "No....I don't get it. Is there something important or...?"

"Why didn't you tell me you had a son?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I had to tell complete strangers about my son." He said in his classic, sarcastic tone.

You were admiring his tattoos and his muscles for so long that you jumped out of the trance when his son started to cry.

"Are we done here? My son is hungry."

"Answer your phone next time and we won't have this problem." You said before letting the door close on him and walking away.

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n3tworksucks · 1 year

Note

getting high w Quackity maybe ?? 👀

MAYBE YES??👀

ALSO I DONT KNOW MUCH AB GETTING HIGH SO I HAD TO ASK MY DAD FOR SOME INFORMATION LOL

word count; 964

warnings; drug use, umm idk

-hes never gotten high before

- he said that before

- he knew you liked to get high every once in a while

- like you'd go on the balcony and smoke for a while

- or you'd make pot brownies

- and he's never really thought about doing it

- but because he started to sit with you on the balcony and watch you eat the brownies

-he got more curious

- but he wouldn't ask to take a puff of your blunt or ask for a bite of your brownie

- he'd just wait till you asked if he wanted to try

-and you've asked before but he'd lightly shake his head no not thinking about how it would feel to be high

- he knew the main parts on what its like being high

- like blood shot eyes or feeling dizzy

-but everyone says it and he just wasn't interested in feeling like that

- but now he's starting to rethink

- so now when you're both sitting on the chairs on the balcony at 2a.m, he looks between you and the blunt in-between your fingers

- looking at you place it between your lips

- he wasn't trying to look like he wanted to try

- but you could tell he wanted something

you look up at the night sky, not a whole lot of noise going on except the crickets and the occasional dog bark. you hadn't been out here on the balcony smoking for long but long enough for you to feel something.

you had your boyfriend next to you, he had recently started coming out with you, even though he didn't really like the smell. but he wanted to come to see if he could try, but he's not gonna ask, he'll wait for you to ask. but the other times you've both come out, hes been acting a little different, not in a bad way but more of a curious way, an observed way. and you noticed before, you noticed when he'd look at you more when you take a drag. so this time you wanted to ask if he wanted to try even though you thought he'd say no you still ask. you look over to him with slight red eyes," you wanna try this time?" you ask, slightly holding out. When you asked him if he wanted to try he'd usually say no immediately, but this time he waited a second to answer, looking at the lit blut in-between your thumb and your index finger. "Sure" he said slowly and you pass him the blunt. "you know how?" you asked, making sure he'd do it right "kinda- like I've seen people do it" he said a little unsure. " ok so you fill your mouth with smoke. then take a long deep breath oh air, then exhale kinda quickly" you tried explaining the best you could, but with you being under the influence didn't make you explain the best. so he took the information he had then hesitantly put it between his lips and tried taking a drag, but before he could do the rest of the steps he started coughing really bad. covering his mouth with his arm as he kept coughing, not sounding like he'd stop anytime soon, you started laughing a bit. like if someone were to walk out on their balcony they would probably think someone was choking and some cruel person was just laughing at him. still laughing, you reach over to your side and grab a bottle of water that you had brought out and hand it to him, he quickly grabs it and starts drinking it. about a minute goes by and he finally calmed down, he gives the blunt back and shakes his head, a little light headed as well, saying he can't do it. but you have and idea."Well, do you wanna try a brownie?" you ask and he says yeah, because why not I guess. so you go inside real quick to get one brownie to share, you come back out, and carefully split it in half, giving him one half. it was a rather small brownie and before he can comment on it you say something first "I know its small but a little goes a long way" you tell him. "oh" he says. you take small bites of yours, savoring the tast. "do i just eat it whole?" he asks. you giggle a bit realizing how clueless he is."you can i guess" you say and he eats it.

time goes by, but you zoned out for a while not knowing how much time went by."yo" he said looking at you with now red eyes"this is cool" he says as he laughs a little and looks around at the same time. it was his first time getting high so he was a little lightweight.

"I know" you say, smiling. "whats it feel like?" you ask, wanting to see how it feels for him

"like.. im floating i dunno man" he says putting his arms behind his head and relaxes in the chair. "it feels good though" he says, "maybe we can do it again next time" he suggested. "yeah" you agree "and I'll have to show you how to smoke too" you said remembering the way he failed, making you laugh."are you laughing at me?" he said acting offended. "yeah"you said straight up, catching him off guard a little, expecting you to cover it up somehow "oh" he said, also starting laughing "wooow" he said dramatically. a few minutes go by."I love you" he said now sounding tired. "I love you too, baby" you say, tiredness also growing on you."you wanna go to bed?", you ask and he nods. you both get up tidying up the little mess you made outside and going in, then going to bed.

#quackity #quackityhq #quackity imagines #quackity x reader #high quackity???

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normal-internet-user · 1 year

Text

DOG DAYS

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Summary: You recently got a new puppy, and Mikey loves him alot. like, alot.

Warnings: None!

Requested: Nope!

GN Reader!

.........................................

"Dang it, Bear, get over here!"

You let out a huff as you chased your new german shepard puppy down the hallway of your apartment. Bear had been a total sweetheart on day 1, but now that he had gotten used to his new home, he's as energetic as your friggin boyfriend.

You had wanted a pet for a while, and actually intended on getting a cat, but the moment you saw Bear at the shelter, you knew you had to take him home.

With a huff, you cornered the puppy. The little menace was wagging his tail, your phone in his mouth. As quickly as you could, you snatched him up off the ground, taking the phone from his mouth.

"Bad doggy, we don't take peoples stuff."

Bear whined, looking at you with those adorable maple eyes.

"My goodness, I can't stay mad at you, can I? you are just like your dad." you sigh, putting Bear down on the couch, you handed him one of his squeaky toys.

You checked over your phone, grimacing at the drool all over the screen. Grabbing some tissues from the coffee table, you did your best to wipe the drool from the screen.

A ping sounded from your phone, letting you know you had just received a text. You opened the message from your boyfriend,

Orange Crush: Omw Anglecakes!

(Nickname): See u soon babe!

You looked down at Bear, who had stopped chewing his toy in favor of staring at you with his big happy eyes, and his tounge hanging from his mouth.

You giggled, picking up the puppy, you spoke in a high pitched baby voice, "Guess what, Bear? Daddy's on his way! are you so excited? you are?"

Bear wagged his tail faster, licking your face as you giggled. You walked the two of you into the kitchen, setting Bear down on the lanolium floor. You pulled a frozen pizza from the freezer, then turned on the oven to pre-heat.

Bear started to bark excitedly, spinning around, as you heard a knock from the window in the living room.

You run over and unlatch the window, with Bear jumping excitedly behind you as Mikey enters your apartment.

"Hey there, babe." he greets, giving you a peck on the lips, before turning away and holding out his arms for Bear, "Where's my little guy?"

Bear barked, jumping into Mikey's arms excitedly. You giggled and shook your head, the two where just too cute. "How long are you staying over, babe?" you asked, walking into the kitchen to put the pizza in the oven.

"I was hoping to stay the night, sound fine to you?"

You nodded, leaning on the counter as Mikey walked into the kitchen holding Bear, "Sounds perfectly fine to me. Then you can help me bathe Bear."

"Wait really? I get to help? Awsome! You hear that, Bear, it's bath time little dude!"

You laughed, patting Mikey's arm, "Chill out, Mikey. we can give him a bath after pizza."

Mikey nodded with his usual smile, taking Bear into the living room, "Let's go play tug of war! where's your rope? huh, Bear? where's your rope."

"Don't pull on the rope to hard, babe! you could hurt his little puppy teeth." you call over your shoulder, starting to clean the dishes from earlier that day.

"I know, Anglecakes! trust me I'm a professional!"

"Mikey, that's what you said when you tried to land a flip off my fire-escape. Then you busted your face on the sidewalk."

"That was one time!"

You laugh, and place the final clean dish on thr drying rack. Still chuckling you walk into the living room, plopping down on the couch, watching your boyfriend and dog tug back and forth on Bear's bright orange rope. (Mikey had insisted it be orange, since, "Orange is the superior color!")

Bear started to lead Mikey in circles around the coffee table, doing his best to get the large turtle to drop the rope. Mikey was doing a good job at keeping up, until Bear jerked the rope, causing Mikey to lose his grip. Bear took off running down the hall, rope in his mouth.

Mikey was just aboit to chase after him, when the small dog tripped over the large rope. Both you and Mikey laughed at the look of utter confusion on his face.

The poor thing had zero idea how he had tripped, and he looked all around, trying to find the culprit.

Suddenly an idea popped into your head, and you smiled, "Oh, my poor baby!" you cooed as you picked up Bear, "Oh, it's ok. oh, poor Bear."

Bear looked up at you, then at Mikey, then back at you, then started to give little whines. Now Mikey was confused. You tried your hardest not to laugh at the absolute dramatic show Bear was giving, as you continued to coo at him.

The oven dinged, taking your attention from the faker you were holding. Passing Bear to a still confused Mikey, you rushed into the kitchen to get the pizza from the oven.

After cutting the pizza into slices, you called out to Mikey, "Food's done!"

Mikey and Bear came racing into the kitchen, Bear sitting down next to his bowls, waiting for you to fill them. Once you did, Bear tail wagged happily as he began to eat.

After dinner, you and Mikey gave Bear his promised bath. Then with worn out puppy, and an even more worn out turtle, the three of you layed in your bed, Bear curled up in between the two of you. You gave Mikey a kiss, "G'night babe."

"Night Anglecakes."

#tmnt #x reader #tmnt x reader #mikey x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2016 #mikey tmnt 2016 #2016 mikey #mikey x reader tmnt 2014 #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse mikey

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nothere2010-blog · 5 months

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Tony’s torture by Natatat

first chapter the rest is on Fantasyfeeder

"My jeans are way too tight" I moaned through a mouthful of chicken wing.

"Awww, too bad. I thought you liked chicken wings." Jane smacked his belly hard. "Keep eating. You need to finish, you wouldn't want to waste it."

"Can I please just unbutton them?" My jeans were cutting into my belly. It was weird I had no idea how doughy I was until now. My flab was spilling over my waistband. It hurt.

"You know what, maybe I'll take pity on you just this once but only if you are good and keep eating." I nodded my head. "You nodding your head is not being good. You eating faster will convince me." I must have looked terrified. "Come on fatty hurry up before I decide to punish you." She smacked my aching gut. I ate faster to show her I would be good.

"That's a good boy. Look at all this." She pinched my muffintop. "You have so much blubber. You are going to pop the button off of those jeans if you aren't careful." She kept a tight hold on my fat.

"I can't eat anymore unless you unbutton them. Please, I will have more room if you do."

"You have plenty of room like this. See all this jiggly fat. It's still soft. Plus you can still breathe and talk so you have room." I whined and gave her my best puppy dog eyes.

"Please I'll do anything if you unbutton them." I instantly regretted saying that when I saw her light up.

"Anything?" I looked down at my bulging gut. I could feel the button holding on for dear life.

"Yes anything."

"Okay" She reached down and popped the button.

"Oh my urrrrrp, that feels urrrp, so much better" my gut surged out into her hands. I really was getting podgy.

"Good now you have a lot more room. And I have so many activities planned." She jiggled my belly.

"What kind of activities?" I was stuffing myself as fast as possible in the hopes that I wouldn't realize how full I was.

"Oh you know, things that involve that black thing you like and this" she put her fingers in her pussy and pulled them out and placed them under my nose. I instantly went rock hard and tried to lick it off her fingers.

"Not so fast you greedy pig. You have to do everything and anything I say.” She said this last part in my ear and grabbed my crotch and belly making me jump a bit.

I had had to button my pants again before we left the restaurant. The second we walked to the house I moved to unbutton them again. My hand was smacked away.

"Nope. You said anything."

"Jane I'm seriously going to explode. I can't eat anymore."

"Aww that's too bad because I thought you wanted to put these to use" she pulled out a pair of fuzzy pink hand cuffs that a friend had given me as a joke gift. I didn't know she knew I had those.

"Uh, I mean…" I was practically drooling. Bondage was kinda a recently discovered kink for me. Well with her everything she did made me crazy.

#fantasy feeder #weight gain story #teasing #fat belly #male wg

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 3 months

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Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 30

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1559

Warnings: Talk of death

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Different For Girls Red

****

Ghost

The door flung open, and Juliette Kazansky said in relief, "Oh, thank God you're here."

Ghost raised an eyebrow as her friend practically dragged her inside. "What's wrong?"

"My husband is about to drive me insane-"

"Because someone needs to go to the doctor but won't!" Rooster shouted from another room, his tone more snappish than Ghost had ever heard directed at Juliette.

Jules stared up at the ceiling in exasperation, as if she could see through the plaster and wood all the way up to God. "The Lord is testing me today."

"I heard you had a bad night," Ghost said casually, kneeling down to pet the dogs, who had already flopped onto their backs for belly rubs.

"That's putting it mildly. The lack of sleep is making both of us a little testy." Juliette rubbed her temple and rested a hand on her belly. "The babies are having a wrestling match right now, too, naturally only when the nausea's finally abated, so now, I can't sleep because of that."

"Are you sure you want me over right now?" Ghost inquired, standing up and looking her friend up and down, concerned about Juliette's paleness. "Because I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look awful."

Jules snorted. "Thanks. But yeah, I'm fine. Just running on no sleep. Enough about me, though. Firstly-" she stepped forward and embraced Ghost in a hug so tight, the aviator could barely breathe- "I'm so sorry about your dad. Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

It dawned on Ghost that Jules had recently lost her own dad, less than a year ago, so the feelings were still relatively fresh for her too. She would understand more than anyone. "Thank you. Right now, I think I just need to be around friends. I can feel myself moving towards isolation, and I can't do that."

"If you need to be alone, that's okay. As long as you know you have people waiting for you when you're ready to come back."

Ghost smiled gratefully at her friend. "I appreciate it."

"So, do you want to talk about it or no?"

"There are multiple things I could talk about. Which one are you referring to?"

"Hangman."

Ghost sighed heavily. "Not much to tell. I was planning on staying at his when we got back, we started drinking, started kissing-"

"You two kissed?!" Juliette exclaimed, eyes lighting up.

"Briefly before I cut it off and laid into him. I tried to get him to finally tell me why he never came to visit me after the accident, why he only tried to talk to me after the trial, but he froze. And then I walked out." Ghost walked into the living room with Juliette on her heels. The girls plopped onto the couch, and the dogs joined them. Lightning practically crawled into Ghost's lap as she asked, "What did Hangman text you?"

"He just said: I fucked up. Ghost needs you. I tried to get him to elaborate, but he wouldn't respond. The only other response I got from him was when I asked if he was okay, to which he replied,' I'm fine,' the universal sign that someone is the opposite of fine."

"Thank you for having Coyote check on him. I should've done that first thing, but I was selfish and-"

"Hurting," Juliette added gently. "You've been through a lot lately, Ghost."

"So has he, but he still sent you to check on me. I waited twelve hours before it even dawned on me. I don't even understand why it bothers me so much that I didn't do that for him, but I am, and-"

"Because you love him," Juliette said simply. "Believe me, I understand that infuriating conundrum."

"God, it makes me want to rip my hair out."

"What do you say we sit back, ignore our problems, I have Rooster bring you wine and me some apple juice so I can at least have the air that I'm drinking an adult drink, we put on The Proposal, and both forget about our current problems? We can deal with them later."

Ghost wholeheartedly agreed to the plan. Juliette shouted for Rooster, who shuffled tiredly into the room. He smiled at Ghost, but it didn't reach across his face like it normally did. She'd have to corner him about that later, although she suspected it had to do with Juliette's health. Ghost would keep her own concerns to herself for now, but her friend's wan pallor worried her, too.

Juliette politely requested the girls' drinks and added gently, "And then get some sleep; Ghost is here to watch me, okay?"

Rooster obeyed, grabbing their beverages from the kitchen and handing them to the girls. He kissed Juliette on top of the head before padding to their bedroom.

"He would not have done that without argument had it been anyone but you," Jules said quietly once she assured herself her fiancé was out of earshot.

"Oh, I'm sure if it were Maverick, Penny, or Phoenix, he would've."

"Yeah, because he's slightly scared of Phoenix, although he'd never admit it, and Penny and Maverick are adults in his eyes."

"But he's an adult?"

"They're adultier adults."

Ghost laughed but said nothing else, settling into the cushions and proud of the fact Rooster trusted her with his future wife so implicitly when he hardly trusted the qualified professionals.

Watching the movie turned out to be just the distraction Ghost needed, and when the girls hit 'play' on another one, she and Juliette fell into such deep sleeps that they had to be roused by Rooster for dinner. Neither had heard him enter the kitchen, clang pots and pans around (which he claimed was accidental), or when the timer went off on the oven. He'd made a delicious chicken dish, prompting Ghost to ask, "When did you learn how to cook?"

"I started taking some classes, but if that-" Rooster motioned at the three of them with his fork- "ever leaves this table-"

"Your dirty little secret is safe with us," Ghost promised, "especially since those classes seem to be paying off. This is delicious."

Rooster beamed at the compliment, and when their plates were scraped clean, he took them to the sink. The girls chatted while Rooster cleaned the dishes. He jumped into the conversation when he felt the need to put in his two cents.

During that meal, Ghost realized what Godsends the Bradshaws had been, allowing her to hang out with them to distract her from her woes. Between finding out Maverick might be her dad and the silence from Hangman when she asked him the question that had eaten away at her for years, Ghost considered the success of the Bradshaws' distracting abilities no small feat.

Around nine, they migrated to the living room. Juliette gently lowered herself onto the couch, and while she smiled, Ghost could tell her friend was having a bad day with the pregnancy. They talked for a couple more hours, and when Rooster left to use the restroom, Ghost asked, "Do you want me to go? You look like you're struggling right now."

"No, no, I'm fine," Juliette insisted, waving her hand dismissively. "Just a little nausea. Besides, I'm enjoying our conversation."

"Jules-"

A ringing cellphone interrupted the conversation. The girls shared a confused glance, wondering who on earth would be calling that time of night. Juliette grabbed her phone and answered, "Hello?"

A deep man's voice spoke on the other end. Juliette's brow furrowed in confusion when she replied, "Uh, no, this isn't Ghost. May I ask who's calling?"

"What's going on?" Rooster queried upon returning to the room and noticing the girls' expressions. Juliette held up a finger to silence him.

"Hang on, let me get her for you," Juliette said. She handed the phone to the female aviator, stating, "It's a bartender?"

Ghost frowned. "Hello?"

"Is this Ghost?" The man responded gruffly, sounding slightly exasperated.

"Yes. Who's this?"

"My name's Mickey Whitley; I'm a bartender at The Riptide. I have a customer here, a Jake Seresin, who needs a ride home because he's smashed and- no, you're not playing darts! You can't even stand!" The man exclaimed suddenly. He groaned and returned to the conversation. "Sorry, your friend wants to play darts, and if he throws one, it's more likely to turn into a freestyle acupuncture session than a darts game. Can you come get him? I can help get him to your car, but I'm cutting him off because he's gonna kill himself if he drinks anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll head over now," Ghost said, standing up and hurrying to the front door. Rooster and Juliette followed. "I'll be there in ten."

Hanging up the phone, she returned it to Juliette and explained the situation, adding, "Rooster, I hate to ask this of you, but could you help me pick him up? If Hangman's as drunk as the guy said he is, I won't be able to get him home, let alone keep him stable on my bike."

"Of course," Rooster said, reaching for his keys. Juliette swiped them before he could. "What are you-"

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm useless. I'm coming with you to help. He gave the bartender my number after all," Juliette argued. "Come on. I'm driving."

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989

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domesticated-feral · 7 months

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small town AU where:

Scott and Melissa moved there after losing the house during the divorce and she's working at the rural clinic while he's working under Dr. Deaton.

Stiles is still the kid of a sheriff and the sheriff's department takes care of beacon hills as well as the surrounding other small towns in the county :)

Four words, Livestock Veterinarian Alan Deaton! Four more bonus words Livestock Veterinary Assistant Scott!!! A bunch of more words Deaton and Scott with cute little baby farm animals!!!!!!!!

(if i truly had the energy to do so, i would love to continue writing my livestock vet Scott + farmhand Stiles fic, but that's a different AU)

Derek Hale is a city kid turned farmhand on an old man's farm (the old man in question is Elias, Stiles' grandfather)(and to the question why is Stiles or his father working at the farm is because 1. Elias lets his son work as a sheriff because whatever and 2. Stiles is a walking disaster no way is he letting that boy in charge of farm chores nuh uh not even on a lazy almost fall summer day where there's not much than the usual morning feeding also 3. Derek was only hired after Elias accepted that he was not as young and capable as he used to be and Noah and Stiles put themselves in charge of finding a farmhand)(Derek was the only one to send in a reply to their job ad) and the farm primarily raises sheep for meat and wool but I'd like to think that after Derek started working there a few years back he'd regularly add in new animals every summer or so. Sometimes he'd raise poultry, sometimes it's a small drove of pigs, sometimes it's not even animals but just a crop of pumpkins and squash and tomatoes and cucumbers!!

Derek loves the sheep. He's a shepherd through and through.

Jackson is not a whittemore but a miller, except his parents just died a bit later into his life and he lives with the whittemores on their large scale hay farm where there's an added bonus (to me)! h o r s e s !!!!

(all of this is just a way for me to write my fav characters interacting with my longest running obsession of all time, horses)

Lydia's mother owns the town's bistro/bar, her father owns the lodge built next to it. It used to be a whole business but it split with the divorce but there's still the whole B&B package deal to this day as it's wayyyyy too popular to risk losing business by stopping it.

Allison moved there pretty recently and the guns business her family owns fits in pretty well with the need for safety of the farmer and their livestock from predators and also for the wild game hunters in the late summer through fall hunting season.

Scott and Lydia bonding over being two kids from a divorced family. Scott and Lydia bonding over having pet dogs (Roxy is alive and Prada and her are absolute besties). Scott and Lydia being partners in science projects. Scott and Lydia spending wayy too long staring into each others eyes than how much friends would. Scott and Lydia realizing they want to be more than friends.

Stiles spouting off cool animal facts that Scott 100% already knew but acts like he didn't because both of them are stupidly in love with each other.

Scott meeting Derek when on the job. He can't help but crush over Derek and his enthusiasm over regenerative agricultural practices.

Jackson trying to impress Scott and Stiles by trotting up and down the main street on his horse. (I live laugh love by my Scott/Stiles/Jackson agenda) He also gets his dad to bring his horse over to school so he can just ride on it back home, in hopes of impressing Scott and Stiles but Scott is too invested in Stiles animal facts that they only way Jackson really has a chance was when Scott came over with Deaton for an emergency check up on a rogue cow on their property that was limping bad. Jackson straight up embarasses himself because he's a loser :P but Scott finds the attempt endearing and asks if he'd want to hang out with him and Stiles. It's the beginning of a slippery slope of 'Oh. Oh.' realizations for the three of them.

Scott and Allison meeting each other at the bistro and it starts a blossoming relationship that tugs at the heartstrings. It's cute little notes during class and hanging out at the bistro over hot chocolate even on hot days and going over to each others house to watch TV to cuddle under the same blanket and quick glances at each other and it's so goshdarn cute.

BASICALLY, SCOTT/EVERYONE because I can't choose which ship to go with this au because Scott DESERVES everyone and everyones ALSO DESERVES Scott :D

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windvexer · 1 year

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hey!! Your blog is really cool and has a ton of great info. I love the way you talk about things :)

Just wondering, I’ve been having a really hard time trying to control my brain. Been bad recently. Just a lot of accidental telepathy and silly brain things that I don’t quite have a grip on.

I like all the power, don’t get me wrong, but it’s just a lot to deal with day to day. Do you have any tips on how I could put a handle on it? Even just a little

Thanks^^

Hello!

Lee Morgan said it well (I'm sure it was his book), albeit in reference to witchcraft, that practicing is like a fire that burns away your fat. Like, we're all slabs of bacon and we can throw ourselves on the skillet to cook. Using your skills is exposing yourself to the raw flame of the Other.

And we can render out very nicely and produce something lovely.

But, also, when your "protective layer" is burned away, then problems start. Then the fire starts licking your brain directly.

And that's not good.

So really you've got to take breaks. People don't want to, because it's lots of fun to practice and they get enamored with how their brain pops and sizzles when held directly over the firepit.

But you have to take breaks. And I don't mean fifteen minutes a day of not-practice. I mean, days off. Weeks off. A season off - or two, if you've really gone overboard.

Imagine that your craft is a fireplace, and every time you intentionally practice you are laying another stick of wood on the fire. And that fire is getting bigger and bigger. And if you keep going, your house is going to be too hot to stay in.

The house is your self. You cannot leave.

But even when you stop putting wood on the fire, well - you've still got a raging fire! It's going to have to burn itself out and calm itself down. And that process is not a few minutes of deep breathing. That process is waiting. Days, weeks, seasons. You have to let it cool down.

So you have to look yourself in the eye and say, "is my house getting too hot? Can I really afford to keep putting wood on this fire?"

And besides, you're never going to be able to sweep out your fireplace and clean your chimney while the fire is still going, but that's a metaphor for another time.

During one long period of my life I had been going through Too Much Input, and all these things were happening to me and around me that was a lot to deal with, on a day to day basis. My boyfriend is quite wise in the ways of wizardry, so I asked him how he handles it. How do you handle all these things you can perceive and know?

And he shrugged and said, "ignore it."

I was gobsmacked! Ignore it? Just pretend it isn't happening and get on with my day?

Well he was right, wasn't he. That's a crispy looking psychic stick, sun-dried and well aged. I'm just meant to ignore it? I'm not supposed to snap it up like a rowdy dog and drop it directly onto the bonfire of my mind?

I'm meant to just walk the trail without grabbing every single piece of kindling I can stuff in my mouth?!

How else will I burn my house down??

So another thing is, you can't let yourself chase after it all like a Golden Retriever after tennis balls.

There will always be another message, another snippit, another tidbit, another spirit.

You've got to learn to let them go past you, like you're in a Ghibli movie on a sun-lit hill on a cloudy day, watching cars far below you on the freeway.

It's a freeway. There will always be more cars. Let them go. Let them go before your house burns down.

"What about such-and-such psychic technique for turning off power?"

Oh, sure. There are plenty. Imagine a valve closing. An amulet to limit sensing. Shielding techniques.

The danged heck of it is, such-and-such techniques are tinder. More psychism to stop psychism is just fire on fire.

They're good tricks to know. They're the equivalent of an iron shield to dissipate heat, or building a flue to control the air, or wearing fire-resistant clothing.

But they don't put the fire out, do they.

One day, when your fire is not making your house too hot, perhaps you'd really benefit from knowing such-and-such techniques to more expertly control your hearth.

Let it cool down. Sweep the ashes out. Check your chimney. Do not be afraid of never being able to light the fire again.

Lighting it is easy. Putting it out is the hard part.

Strive to find balance. Some people like a huge bonfire once a month. Other people have tiny little fires to warm their feet that they keep going constantly. Others never let the coals get cold, and only stoke them for mealtimes.

Figure out what you need to make your house a home. Figure out how often to feed the fire to make meals for yourself and your friends, to keep the house warm, to make it a lovely place.

Learn how to let it die down. Do not chase after all shiny things. Learn as many such-and-such techniques as you like, as long as you understand they're fire too.

#answered #psychism #tbl

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nostalgicamerica · 11 months

Text

True story:

When I was a young teenager I truly lived a blessed life thanks to my mother and father. I never really wanted for anything. All my needs and most of my wants were met, I felt loved, I had a warm bed, and I never went hungry. I had more than I deserved and certainly more than most.

So I felt a little guilty to feel a longing inside me that seemed to grow with time. Eventually, the yearning crowded out all other passions (with the possible exception being Maija Saaronen, but that's a story for another time). That longing was to have a dog of my own.

To be sure, we already had a dog, but Musta, a black lab, was the family dog. He belonged to everyone, and by the time I pushed through puberty, Musta was already old and spent most of his time on his bed, snoring and farting.

To be honest, I loved Musta as much as the rest of my family did, but he wasn't mine. Besides, his hips and joints were too sore for him to hike the rivers with me, and on cold or rainy nights he was as likely to curl up with any of my other siblings as me.

I repeatedly talked to my parents about getting my own dog and the answer was invariably, "No." Or, "They are too expensive and money is tight as it is and if we let you get a dog, then all of the kids will want one of their own and we'll be overrun with dogs." Or, "You can't have a dog because we are evil and we want you to be as miserable as possible." Well, that last one I made up, but that is how I read their refusals.

Even the promise to pay for everything myself fell on deaf ears. I had my paper route. No. I could mow lawns and shovel snow and do other odd jobs to raise money. No. I'll not shirk my chores around the house anymore. That's what you're supposed to do anyway, and no.

I think Dad had more sympathy for my yearnings than Mom did, because he only acquiesced to her refusal. I don't recall him ever putting his foot down like Mom, and after one particular defeat at the hands of the 'No-Dog-For-You-I-Don't-Care-How-Miserable- You- Are-Woman' who professed to love me, Dad followed me from the kitchen and, gripping my shoulder in his large hand, he winked and whispered, "Don't give up, buddy. Life has a way of getting us what we truly want."

So I wandered through my days essentially dogless. Most of my friends and acquaintances had dogs, if not their own, at least their dogs had the decency to occasionally act like it. Here comes Eino with his beagle trotting along beside him. There goes Skunk with his Dachshund/Chihuahua yipping at his heels. I don't know who that kid is, but he has a dog, too.

Darned near every family had a dog that the boys in the family could do things with. Even the meanest local bully, Mikko Aho, had his own dog, a German Shepherd cross named Daisy that was just as mean as her owner. Daisy easily topped 120 pounds and, although she was getting long in the tooth, she still made my bowels loosen whenever I saw her, whether she was on a lead or not.

Fortunately for the rest us - not so much for him - Mikko, a few years older than me, had recently begun his life-long love affair with alcohol, so Daisy spent her days chained up in the Aho's back yard. Periodically she would get bored, break her chain, and wander around looking for somebody to bite, which usually wound up being a child or defenseless grandmother working in her garden.

As a general rule, I didn't believe there were bad dogs; just bad owners. Poor Daisy had been raised to be a kusipää by and like her owner.

July and August came and went with no movement from Mom despite my best efforts to wear her down. With September came my fourteenth birthday, school, and cooler, rainier weather.

I was a freshman that year. A new school filled with new challenges, new classmates, and, of course, new girls. I didn't dislike school, generally speaking, I just disliked the feeling of being jailed.

Never an academic, I did well enough in English, Literature, Civics, and History, but I never got along with Math and the sciences. Those two thugs would wait for me every afternoon at home in my room and taunt me and my lack of mental acuity. I always managed to squeak by those courses, but it was always a knock-down free-for-all to even manage a C.

To this day, if somebody asks me what endoplasmic reticulum is, as a general rule, I punch them in the face. And in well over 50 years I've never once had to solve a quadratic equation. But apparently, to continue on into my adulthood, these subjects were a rite of passage.

I can't remember the first time I saw him. I was getting off the bus after school and happened to glance behind the general store and saw a scruffy, black and white dog pulling at a garbage bag. The mongrel was dirty and looked emaciated and only glanced at me warily when I whistled for it. I didn't see a collar.

When I approached, the dog sidled away and whined at my impertinence in disturbing the meal it just knew was in the black plastic bag. The dog took one last wistful look at the trash bag and slipped into the waist-high weeds at the rear of the parking lot.

I dug out the remnants of my lunch and left half of a liverwurst sandwich and a couple of cookies at the edge of the pavement where the dog had disappeared and headed for home and the dreaded algebra homework I had facing me that night.

Over the next couple of weeks I saw the stray a few more times, usually scrounging for food, and looking forlorn. Each time I tried to coax it to come to me I was met with failure. The dog, who, my brother opined was the filthiest dog he'd ever seen and bestowed the name Lika (short for Likainen) on, was as skittish about me as I was about polynomials.

Lika, was unlike any dog I had ever dreamed of owning, but even a mongrel was better than no dog at all, and I was sure I could convince Mom to let me keep it if I could convince it to follow me home.

One Saturday near the end of September heralded the arrival of that most glorious of natural phenomenon - Indian Summer. One last taste of summer and a brief and wonderful reprieve from the winter that was headed our way.

By the time our chores were done the mercury was nudging up against 70, and my brother and I decided to head to the river for a few Rainbow or Brown. We threw a few sandwiches in a bag, grabbed our gear and headed for the trailhead.

Our day turned out beautiful; an azure and cloudless sky, yellow, orange, and red foliage everywhere we looked, and the river was almost languid. We wound up getting skunked, but that was no matter. My motto was - and is - a bad day fishing is better than a good day doing almost anything else.

Walking home through town, I saw Lika again. The dog didn't immediately dart away when I approached but it was cautious. I extended one of the remaining sandwiches to it and crouched down to make myself smaller.

Ever so slowly Lika inched closer, the liverwurst acting like a magnet to an empty stomach. Up close I could see Lika was a male and that he was terrified. But his hunger was stronger than his fear, and delicately, he took the triangle-cut meal of home-baked bread, liverwurst, and horseradish and skittered back a few feet. I watched him wolf the sandwich down, his eyes never wavering from mine.

My brother just laughed, "You know Mom's going to flip out if you manage to convince that kirppupussi to follow you home." My brother always was smarter than me, but I ignored his negativity. "I just gotta get him there. She'll come around."

Lika looked like he was ready for a nap. Up close I couldn't see anything wrong with him. He just needed a bath and a few meals to fix what ailed him. And a boy to call his own. And maybe some flea powder. He was a medium-sized dog, maybe forty pounds or so, a patchwork black and white but so dirty the white looked brown.

When my brother and I resumed our trek home, Lika did follow us, to a fashion. He stayed about 10 yards behind us, stopping occasionally as if unsure about the bipedal creature who gave him food. As we turned down our street and I whistled to encourage Lika, he stopped at the corner and wouldn't come any closer.

The following morning, after breakfast, my mother gave me a dollar and sent me to the general store for a bag of flour. Almost immediately, Lika emerged from the ditch at the side of the road and cautiously approached me. I sat down on the shoulder and waited as he nervously edged closer.

His tail was slowly wagging. Whether it was me, or the scent of the breakfast sausage I had squirreled away in the front pocket of my overalls, I'm not sure, but it didn't matter. The little black and white stray stopped within arm's length and sat down, looking at me expectantly.

He shied away when I reached into my overall pocket but showed renewed interest when I eased the napkin out and unrolled one of the venison links. I broke off a small piece and held it in the palm of my hand and I almost squealed like a school girl when Lika leaned forward and took it from me.

I could almost see gratitude on his face as he ate one chunk of sausage after another until, with a silent gesture I held up my hands to him, fingers splayed. I wondered if he could smell Musta on me or it was something else because he recoiled away when I tried to pet him.

"It's okay, buddy." I grinned, "I have time."

Lika followed me to the store, waited in the parking lot as I went in and was still waiting when I came out with a five pound bag of flour on my shoulder and a couple of coins jingling in my pocket.

The two blocks home found Lika shadowing me close enough for our morning shadows to almost touch on the dirt road. I talked to him softly, almost whispering, and tried to avoid sudden movements. My confidence and joy were growing with each step. What I would do about Mom and her 'no dog' edict eluded me. I figured I'd cross that bridge when I got to it.

I spent the rest of that week sneaking food to the dog in the mornings and after school, while trying to avoid Mom's scrutiny, as well as that of my older sisters who would likely rat me out, depending on their mood. Musta wasn't eating much by that time so I was able to swipe some of his kibble, and I could always slide a hot dog, or some kielbasa, or pork chop from my plate into a pocket.

The problem was, the days were creeping towards October and the nights were getting cold. I couldn't let Lika fend for himself. I thought about hiding him in the basement where at least he'd be warm, but Mom kept her canned goods there and I could imagine the fun ensuing if Mom or one of my sisters tripped over the dog.

The best solution I could find was the dilapidated tool shed behind the garage. The shed was no longer used for anything, it listed badly to the south, had large cracks between nearly every board, and it survived only because Dad always told Mom he'd tear it down as soon as he got the chance. To that point the chance never presented itself.

But cardboard would block most of the holes and keep my new dog out of the wind, and a quilt I stole from the attic would make a decent bed.

Lika wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the accommodations but the shed was better than bedding down in the open. It would work for awhile until I could figure something else or wear down Mom.

The real problem I faced was I couldn't be at home every moment of the day. I had school and my paper route and other chores that would take me away from my dog, and hockey season was bearing down. On top of it all, Lika didn't seem overly concerned about being discovered.

I considered asking one of my friends to keep him until I broke Mom but immediately discarded the idea; all my friends already had dogs, larger families than my own, or both. The shed was the best I could do.

By mid-October, the stray was no longer a stray. He was mine; I was his. His whole body would wriggle insanely at my approach and his tail would wag so violently it would create a ruckus banging against the side of the shed. He would let me pet and hold him and for hours, when I wasn't in school, we'd lay on the quilt and talk to each other.

I had no way to bathe him - the weather was too cold to use the garden hose, so I tried a few wet towels, which helped a bit, but he needed a bath in the worst way. He smelled worse than a week old and well-used gym sock.

January and February are typically the coldest months of any year on the Keweenaw Peninsula. The year I turned fourteen, however, October reminded us that we were closer to Canada than Mexico and tossed us a surprise; a week before Halloween a storm rolled through that dropped over 20 inches of snow and, after the front passed, the temperature plummeted.

I was in a panic about what to do about my dog. It was already 10 degrees and the radio breathlessly informed us that we could expect sub-zero temps overnight.

I didn't care if I got caught, when our parents weren't paying attention, I was going to bring Lika into the basement. It was then I learned one of those lessons that usually seemed to pass right over my head.

I was getting frantic and Mom always seemed to be underfoot. "Go knit a sweater or dust something." I pleaded with her in my head. Usually Mom was always dusting or cleaning as if the Pope was going to drop by. Maybe she sensed something wrong, or she decided the pretense was over.

She touched my shoulder as I was pulling on my boots and smiled gently. "Why don't you bring your dog into the mud room?"

I just stared at her in disbelief. "You knew?"

I could hear Dad laughing in the family room, "Honey, we've known since the first day you brought him home. You can't put anything past us, besides," She smiled, "He isn't exactly stealthy. That little guy waits everyday in the middle of the yard for you to get home from school. Besides," she smiled again, "Your little bothers have been playing with him for weeks."

As I raced out the door to get Lika and his quilt, Mom yelled at me, "He can only be in the mud room and it is just temporary."

So Lika moved indoors where it was warm, and where there was no shortage of little people willing to bestow hugs and belly rubs and snot on him. He stayed in the mud room on his quilt for a few days and then we began testing Mom by letting him in the family room for a few minutes until she yelled.

A warm bath with Ivory soap worked miracles. His black was inky and his white patches glowed. He was still scruffy, but he was clean. A steady diet packed a few pound onto his frame and his eyes seemed to leak the happy he had been missing. A visit to the vet two towns down the road confirmed Lika was healthy and about two years old, and although the veterinarian suspected a terrier-husky mix, he really wasn't sure.

Over time Lika warmed to everyone. My siblings couldn't leave him alone and I even caught Dad feeding him and rubbing his head. Even Musta welcomed Lika and acted like a puppy when Lika approached his bed in the family room. Mom, though, kept her distance.

She often said the dog had to go in the spring when the snow melted and it was warm. She was insistent that we could easily find a good family that would be happy to give him a home, especially since he was so well behaved and quiet.

She was right. Lika was nothing if not quiet. In the entire time he was capturing my heart, I had never heard him bark.

Things went that way for awhile.

I once overheard Mom telling Dad about how she couldn't help noticing how responsible I was becoming in taking Lika for walks every day, feeding him on schedule, and cleaning up his lawn mines after he did his business. She showed Dad her tally book showing my payments for his food and the vet bill and she was smiling. It made me feel good inside, and I was sure she was coming around.

By the time Christmas showed up, Lika had moved in with Musta and they shared Musta's bed like two old friends. Their food bowls were side by side. In a testament to the size of his heart, Lika would walk by the old dog's side until they reached the bowls and he wouldn't eat until his new friend began.

Mom had ceased threatening eviction for Lika and on more than one occasion I caught her slipping him a scrap of ham or bacon. She hadn't said he could stay, but at least she wasn't proclaiming from the rooftop he was gone.

One January night, I was wakened by a cold dog nose on my back. It was probably around two am and I had been sound asleep. Groggy, unable to focus, I tried to roll over and go back to whatever dream I had been involved with; around that time it likely would have involved Maija. Again, a cold nose.

I rolled over and sat up. Lika was sitting on the floor at the edge of my bed just looking up at me. In the dark, I assumed he just wanted to snuggle with me and I held up the blankets. He stood up and moved halfway to the door, looking back at me.

I lay back down and my dog came back to the bed and raising up on the edge, he gently nudged my leg. He waited as I reluctantly rolled out of bed and then led me out into the hallway. Silently he led me down to the first floor and into the family room. Lika almost looked sorrowful in the dark as he walked up to Musta and looked down at him.

Sometime in the night Musta slipped his leash on life and quietly slipped away. I knelt by his side and held Lika and together we said goodbye to a good boy.

February, March, and April visited awhile and departed without fanfare, leaving May to set up camp. It was unseasonably warm for May and most of the snow was gone save for the plow piles and those were nearly melted. On the last Sunday of the month my youngest brother turned six.

Mom always celebrated her brood, and even after 13 kids, she still went out of her way to ensure our birthdays were memorable. That meant a party for the birthday boy and several of his friends from school and the neighborhood.

So after church services, a group of boys feted my youngest brother outside at our house. The day was certainly warm enough for the gathering to be held outside, but I mostly think my parents just couldn't tolerate to have eight or nine 6- and 7-year olds under their roof.

The kids were roughhousing in the backyard as young boys do, laughing, and crying, and picking their noses, Mom and one of my sisters were shepherding the group, and Dad was in the garage working on his truck. Lika was laying in the yard in the shade of one of the Maple trees probably trying to decide if he should join the festivities, or find somewhere to hide.

I was in the bathroom doing my business, reading an article in the Culture and Entertainment section of the Sunday paper about some actor (Ronald Coleman, if my questionable memory serves) who had passed away a week previous. I happened to glance out the window towards the street and saw Daisy skulking along the ditch, dragging a length of chain in the dirt. Even from where I sat I could see her attention seemed riveted on the gaggle of boys and Mom, who were all oblivious.

I raised up off the commode, slid up the window and yelled as loudly as I could in warning. Dad, stepping out of the garage, heard me, and saw Daisy. I've never seen Dad move as fast as he did at that moment. He brandished a tire iron as a weapon and sprinted towards Daisy who had decided she was going to gnaw on a few limbs and was running towards the eighteen legs, all ripe biting targets. From where I watched, petrified, my butt bare and still unwiped, I could see Dad wasn't going to be fast enough.

I watched in disbelief as a grey streak passed Dad and slammed broadside into Daisy, knocking her off course and off kilter. My little dog was full of righteous fury and tore into the much bigger dog, jaws snapping at her legs and neck, snarling like a banshee.

Daisy tried to put up a defense and bit at the insane dervish that chewed at her, but she was almost as old as Musta, and much, much slower than Lika. She also didn't have a vested interest in attacking the kids - maybe she was just bored - and her heart wasn't in the fight. She turned tail and ran with Lika chewing on her backside, just as Dad reached the cloud of dust and dog.

Mom had put herself between the dogs and party and held her hand over her mouth at the scene playing out in her yard. Her fear overwhelmed her and she was sobbing even as Lika returned to where Dad knelt, holding out his arms for the little dog. Lika's hackles were still up, he kept looking back at where the bigger dog had disappeared, and I could hear his low growling from where I watched from the bathroom. And he was limping.

Fortunately, his one wound was insignificant. Daisy had bitten him on his right front leg, but there was only one small puncture wound. Dad scooped him up and tried to carry him into the house but Mom stopped Dad and descended on her little furry hero, smothering Lika with hugs and kisses and I knew two things at that moment: 1. Lika wasn't going anywhere, and, 2. I had lost my dog to Mom.

And I was okay with that.

I knew I could still take him on my fishing trips, or walk the streets of town with 'my' dog by my side, but Lika belonged to Mom just as surely as I did.

So Lika earned a permanent home, I got my dog, although he belonged to everyone else, too, especially Mom. He was her hero and she showered love and affection on that little guy throughout the remainder of his life. Without consulting me she changed his name to Pela - a shortened version of Pelastaja. I had to admit it certainly fit him better.

I'd like to say that Pela had bonded to me more than the rest of my family but that simply wasn't so. He snuggled with me on cold nights, but no more than with any of my siblings. Pela didn't exactly take a rotation - he somehow chose the child who needed it most; the child who was sick, the child who was sad because of a bully at school, or the child who just needed more.

Growing up is about learning lessons and along the way I mostly learned them (except Plane Geometry). Many I learned from my teachers along the way but more I learned from my parents.

One in particular I learned in my efforts to bring home a dog - Dad was right. Life does have a way of getting us what we truly want. I've tested this idea many times over the span of my life and added to it: Life has a way of getting what we truly want if our motives are right and if we maintain a positive outlook.

When I left for college and, later left Michigan to see what I could make out of life, I left Pela with my family. It was the right thing to do for them, and for Pela, and it would have been selfish to do otherwise.

When I returned home as I often did, Pela always acted like I had just been using the bathroom or at school. He'd cock his head up at me as if to ask, "Where've you been?" before jumping up on my lap.

They say love goes on and maybe the love I had for my first dog never left at all. I can still feel it.

Note: The photo is not of Pela - I know some exist but I have no idea which of my remaining seven siblings have Mom and Dad's photos. Ultimately, it doesn't matter - I can still see him in my memory. The photo I used as a heading is from a Google search for "Scruffy Dog Black and White." Of all the images, this one looks most similar to Pela.

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highwayphantoms · 1 year

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Hi! I would love to see “Is it okay to hug you?” for Handers, or even Anders + a Hawke sibling with background Handers 👀

hello hello I wrote this a while ago and never remembered to post it! 😂 so here's some pre-relationship Handers for @dadrunkwriting

Words: 975 Warnings: nah

At first, Anders took little notice of Hawke's departure from the table. He had a winning hand for sure this time, and that was rare with Isabela at the table. But when she still hadn't returned after several rounds, Anders scooped up his meager winnings: a few coins that somehow seemed smaller than it was compared to the much larger pile Bela had amassed. As he got to his feet, Merrill glanced up from where she sat across from him and asked, "Oh, is it that late already?"

Anders waved her off and said, "I'll be back in a minute. Don't stop on my account."

Merrill brightened immediately, while Isabela said, "Give Hawke our love."

For a moment he considered asking if he was that obvious, then quickly concluded he didn't want to know the answer. Instead, he acknowledged Isabela with a nod and ducked out the door of Varric's suite. Though the front room of the Hanged Man was as crowded as usual for this time of day, Hawke usually managed to stand alone, her dog putting space between her and drunken strangers. Scanning over the room, he saw neither Hawke nor her dog, and Bear was not a small dog. Not getting drinks, then, and she had never seemed the sort of person who would sleep with just anyone. Still, Hawke didn't usually leave without telling anyone. For that matter, Hawke was usually the last to leave. More than once, he'd heard Varric complain that she'd passed out on the floor of his suite rather than go home.

Curiosity compelled him to navigate across the mass of drunks to the front door. The winter air cut right through his clothes, but it was refreshing at the same time.

Nothing felt as good as being outside.

He spotted Bear first, the dog's eyes glinting in the flickering light from the lantern outside the door. Though the dog's dark fur blended into the inky shadows, Hawke's bright red scarf did not. She was on the ground, slumped against a wall with her forehead pressed to her knees; Bear laid on the ground just in front of her, as still as a statue but for the gentle wagging of his nub of a tail.

Acutely aware of the way Hawke reacted to people getting in her space, Anders approached her but maintained a wary distance. For some unfathomable reason, he liked her, as prickly and difficult as she could be. Maker knew she was certainly no worse than Fenris. Maybe that's why they get on as well as they do, he thought with faint amusement. "Hey," he said, stiffly crouching down to be closer to her level. "Are we out in the cold for any particular reason?"

Without lifting her head or otherwise moving a muscle, Hawke said dully, "Fuck off."

"Mhm, I would, but Bear seems so happy to see me," he said mildly.

In apparent agreement, the dog barked softly.

Hawke made a frustrated sound, but said nothing.

"I've known you long enough to know something's wrong," he added. "You don't have to tell me what, but you can't sit out here all night."

"I can, and I will," she muttered. "Hawke," he said, faintly exasperated.

Finally, she picked her head up to glower at him. With clouds blotting out the moonlight and only one lantern to see by, he couldn't make out much of her face, but the way she rubbed at her eyes suggested she'd been crying.

That was… not like Hawke. Hawke didn't cry. She raged. Shouted. Cracked bad jokes. Snarked at people. Cast walls of ice purely to shatter them.

"You were there," she said flatly. "You heard what Aveline said."

Anders paused, trying to think of what Aveline could possibly have said. He generally tuned her out when she started echoing templar talking points—she never said anything he hadn't heard a thousand times before—but he was sure she hadn't said anything in that vein recently.

"Saved her life, and this is how she repays me?" Hawke muttered sullenly. "It's like I don't even exist."

Ah, he did vaguely remember Aveline talking over Hawke at one point. That wasn't particularly unusual either, but evidently Hawke had hit some kind of tipping point.

"You seem pretty real to me," Anders said lightly. "But I know how to prove it, if you don't believe me."

She snorted humorlessly. "How?"

"Can I hug you?"

For a moment, she didn't say anything. In truth, he'd expected one of her snarky retorts. Then, quietly, she said, "Okay."

Anders stood, and offered her his hand. For once, Hawke didn't hesitate—she was usually so reluctant to admit that she had trouble getting off the ground on her own. He pulled her up to her feet, then loosely wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Hawke stood frozen for a few seconds. Then, to his surprise, she turned and hugged him back. Her voice muffled somewhat by her face being pressed against his chest, Hawke mumbled, "I don't know why you're so nice to me."

"Despite your best efforts, you're my friend," he said mildly. Part of him wanted so much more than that, but spending as much time around two other apostates was dangerous enough as it was. The last thing any of them needed was a relationship that could be used against them.

"I guess," she replied quietly. After a few seconds, she released him and withdrew, taking a half step back. "I don't… I mean, I never really had friends."

"Well, you do now." Anders gestured loosely towards the Hanged Man and asked, "Are you going to come back in?"

She shook her head. "No, I… think I'll go home."

"Okay." He brushed aside the faint disappointment that washed over him, then added, "You know where to find me if you need anything."

#jay writes #dragon age #da fic #serafina hawke

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blasez-faire · 3 months

Text

I played Your Last Day on Earth, and timed each section for 1 minute before moving on. Here's the final result.

~~~~~

12:00. I woke up, and looked out through my window. Seeing the city so empty never feels right. It's even more of a corpse than those things, sometimes. It's... creepy. But in a dreadful kind of way.

~~~~~

13:00. A flock of birds is blocking the sun right now. I'm glad there's still some life out here. I haven't seen anything alive that wasn't me since before it happened. Maybe it isn't so bad.

~~~~~

14:00. I found a photo of the city in a backpack I found while scavenging through the pharmacy. It's recent, but instead of dreadful it's... almost peaceful. Like the stress of daily life had vanished, instead of far greater stress replacing it. I don't know why, but I put it in my pocket.

~~~~~

15:00. There's music playing outside the store I'm in. Sounds like a poor quality speaker, or a siren, almost. I hear laughter getting closer to it. I need to hide.

~~~~~

16:00. I was breaking into an old house when I heard barking. There was a dog there. How it stayed alive this long, I don't know. I'm glad I'm not the only one out here, though.

~~~~~

17:00. Finally found some food in that motel. When I was looking around, the sky went completely dark for half an hour, pitch black. Terrified me. It feels like whatever caused this isn't natural.

~~~~~

18:00. I'm a dumbass. The electricity went off today, and I never charged any backups. Total loss of information or direction. The only thing I have is a crusty old map so I can't leave the city now.

~~~~~

19:00. There's a storm coming. Like, a huge storm. I would think it's a natural disaster, but something this size would've been forecast before the apocalypse, right? I need shelter. This convenience store around the corner might be a good idea.

~~~~~

20:00. I wonder if this is the last sunset I'll ever see. It's depressing to think about it, but I don't think I have long left. I've not been feeling great, and the laughter is something I hear too often now. This might really be it.

~~~~~

21:00. I smell something strong. Like iron. Strong enough to lead me to the source. I found a horde of them, in the street. Smiles on their faces. Laughter. I pray to whatever God is left that they didn't see me.

~~~~~

22:00. There was a fire in the hotel I was sleeping in. I don't know why, but I got really angry. I didn't think I was strong enough, but I kicked down the fire escape door. I had boarded up the main entrance.

~~~~~

23:00. I keep thinking about the day this happened. I don't know how, but it's like someone removed all of the details. I can only remember the screams. The laughter. I've been forgetting other stuff, too.

~~~~~

00:00. I'm outside, sitting at a campfire I built. The wind keeps blowing and putting the flame out. I wish I paid attention in... did I do boy scouts?

~~~~~

01:00. I'm not fucking alone. One of them is outside, laughing. I'm being quiet but it won't FUCKING LEAVE. This house is on the outskirts of the city. I keep hearing it knocking.

~~~~~

02:00. It's silent now. I don't believe it's gone. That basta WINDOW BROK

~~~~~

03:00. There was an earthquake, or something. That thing broke its neck. Good riddance. I think I broke my foot, walking doesn't feel right anymore. I feel awful, still. No surprise.

~~~~~

04:00. There was a loud splatting sound. When I went to check what it was, it seemed like somebody jumped off a building. They looked crushed, but they still had a FUCKING SMILE. I can't take this anymore. I don't understand what makes them so happy.

~~~~~

05:00. There was something in the air. Spores, I think. I think I breathed them in. My lungs hurt. It's getting harder to breathe.

~~~~~

06:00. My last sunrise. It's so beautiful. I want to be hopeful, but I keep coughing up blood. I don't feel good anymor

~~~~~

07:00. I think I saw someone. A normal person. I tried to get their attention, but I keep coughing. They ran, I think. The blood on my hand is pitch black.

~~~~~

08:00. Rain. I don't care about getting sick, now. This journal is already covered in my blood. It's so hard to breathe. The rain is calming, but what's happening to me?

~~~~~

09:00. I found another journal. It seems like it ended about a few hours before I found it. I just sat down and read it. It brought a smile to my face, for some reason.

~~~~~

10:00. I felt somethig in my stomac, not normal. It hurts. I keep laughing. Iron scent

~~~~~

11:00. Need ea t, hung r. am st arving cant stop smileing help me help me rotting

~~~~~

12:00. sky dark a m laughin g ha h h a t chy where is everyon ?

#journaling #indie ttrpg #writeblr #creative writing #unreality #my writing #writers #writing #short story #short stories #writerblr #writers of tumblr #writeblr community

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prismuffin · 1 month

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Hey. Can I send in a watch dogs request please when sitara is R’s older sister, and they are mute; and Sitara is really protective of them like Josh? Maybe like someone makes fun of them online or something and Sitara goes full big sister mode and comforts R while going after whoever sent the messages?

A/n: sorry if this is a bit short anon but also I enjoyed writing for watchdogs !! Gn Reader !!

Simple Mistake

Sitara Dhawan x mute!younger!sibling!reader

( summary: when the HQ gets hacked by some trolls with a petty grudge against "S1lentz0" they don't necessarily hold back on the idiot that left them such an obvious trail to follow, you )

warnings?: cyberbullying, swearing, talks of violence and guns, reader knows sign language!! ( italics are sign language )

!-!more under the cut!-!

You hadn't meant for this to happen honestly. You were in the hackerspace in your usual spot on the couch just patching up some code in the servers on your laptop. Recently Lenni had hacked into your guys' network and left so many backdoors and holes in your servers meaning you were much more susceptible to hacks these days. If you didn't patch this now who knows who could hack you next. You typed away at the keyboard your eyes following line after line of code when Wrench called for you. You were busy, but he said it'd only be a second and that if you didn't hold a very specific wire for him while he searched for his pliers then the thing he was working on would blow up in all of your faces, literally. Josh was busy with a similar task to yours, patching up the network after Lenni got in and removing any potential backdoors she could've left. Sitara was helping Markus with the 3D printer as he got ready to leave for another physical hack across LA. So you reluctantly looked away from your laptop, leaving your unfinished vulnerable servers for just a minute too long.

Sitara shot you a smile as she noticed you walking over to Wrench and you shot her one back. It was nice that even after all these years you still had a good relationship with your older sister. Not a lot of siblings can say that they stay as close as you two have. You look up to Sitara, the way she's so bold in both her art and real life, sometimes you wish you could be like that.

But you're not.

And that thought alone used to bug you so much but Sitara reassured you that you were perfectly fine as you. She's always looked out for you since you two were kids. Being mute and more reserved, it was a lot harder to make friends or to feel useful most days. There was always something bad happening in the world and you felt terrible knowing there was often nothing you could to to help. But after joining Dedsec as 'S1lentz0' with Sitara you've found that there are tons of different people in the world just like you and they're all helpful in their own ways.

Speaking of helpful, you cautiously grabbed the wire that Wrench held. "Good now keep that steady, don't let it touch any other wires or we're all dead...mmm- probably." He ranted as he ducked underneath his workstation in search of his preferred tool. You glanced down at him every so often, cursing in your hands as your hands struggled to stay perfectly steady, though with the amount of energy drinks the whole team downs you're not entirely shocked that you can't help the involuntary motion. "Aha!" Wrench yelled, shooting up only to hit his head on the underside of the table, making the whole thing shake. Your eyes widened as sparks flew momentarily before you grabbed the device to steady it before the wire could react with anything else. "owww," Wrench groaned as he stood up straight, rubbing the back of his head, his mask showing his displeasure. You breathed out a sigh of relief at the lack of any sort of explosion before Wrench took over again, grabbing the wire from your hand delicately as he looked at you. "Your presence is appreciated my dear friend," he put on a fake British accent as he spoke, patting your cheek with the pliers twice before focusing his attention back on the device. You nodded and took that as your cue to leave. Walking back over to your laptop, you huffed down onto the couch with a sigh ready to get back to work.

The sound of beeping caught your attention and you froze, grabbing your laptop you stared at the screen with wide eyes as some stupid animation of a snake firing a gun with its tail played. It shot through your code, 1's and 0's flying everywhere as a mechanical laugh played. The snake slithered into the hole it shot and suddenly the rest of the TVs in your hackerspace were projecting the image of the snake. "What the hell is that?" Marcus questioned making everyone stop to peer at the screens. You cursed in your head as you frantically tried to stop the hack before it could get any worse.

At this point, the damage was already done though. Everyone crowded around the screens as a mechanical voice spoke. "S1lentz0 has left you vulnerable. That quiet idiot can't code to save their miserable life." It spoke, and you jumped reacting as if their words had physically hit you. You just tried to ignore their words as you started to lock them out of your system.

Sitara's jaw clenched as she stared at the screens. "Don't you talk about them like that you worthless pricks." She spat, anger evident in her voice as she crossed her arms. The voice let out the same mechanical laugh from before and Sitara only glared at the sound. "They brought down our encryptions and stole our codes to fix your vulnerable systems and thought we simply wouldn't take notice?" You'd began to sweat slightly as your fingers typed rapidly to shut them down. "Wait, so you're calling them worthless because they hacked you and took down your precious encryptions?" Marcus asked, holding back a laugh at their petty reasoning. "Snakes with cowboy hats? Who's idea was that?" Wrench spoke up, laughing much more boldly than Marcus making Josh roll his eyes at the situation. "I've heard of these guys, they're a newer hacker group called Ouroboros. Their systems are so outdated, I'm not shocked that you got your shit hacked and taken down so quickly," Sitara spoke, still glaring at the screen as she continued. "Don't be mad because my little sibling outsmarted your dumbass encryptions. The only reason you're even here is because some other hacker group weakened our system, not because you're skilled hackers." The mechanical voice tried spitting back but was washed from the screens as you finally kicked them out for good, patching up your network in the process.

With a sigh your head fell into your hands, you felt so bad that you let this happen. "welp, that was stupid," Marcus said before going back over to the printer but Sitara was looking at you. Her eyebrows were furrowed with worry as she saw you with your head in your hands, knowing exactly what you were thinking. Walking over to the couch she crouched down next to you, placing her hand on your knee as she softly called your name. "Y/n," You peeked from your hands to look at her. 'I'm sorry,' you signed, 'I didn't mean to leave us vulnerable.' you frowned, looking back towards your laptop to avoid her eye. Sitara sighed before moving to sit next to you. With a smile she bumped your shoulder and you looked at her again. "Hey, it's not your fault ok? If we're gonna blame anyone here its Lenni. She was the one to leave us vulnerable, you were just trying to fix it." 'Yeah but I got distracted.' "And that's completely ok," she placed her hand on your shoulder and you leaned into the comfort now going into a side hug with her. 'Is it really?' you signed, and she smiled "Yes! It is y/n, nobody's blaming you hun just look around." She was right, everyone had simply went back to their original tasks. It was almost as if you guys hadn't got hacked only a few minutes prior. "Those guys that hacked us are just run of this mill idiots they don't pose any real threat." She said with a playful roll of her eyes and you hesitantly smiled at her wording.

You guess she was right, you'd only hacked them a while ago to steal some parts of their firewall that you thought would be useful in your own. You often do that, stealing multiple different encryptions and putting them all together for one mega-encryption that was damn hard to hack. "Don't beat yourself up over this alright y/n? Trust me, me and Marcus are gonna get them back, right Marcus?" She smiled at the approaching male, "Damn right," Marcus said with a smirk, placing his newly made zap-gun in a holster under his hoodie.

Moving out of the hug you turned and smiled at Marcus. 'Thanks you guys,' You signed and Marcus looked at Sitara for translation, he was trying to learn more ASL for you but it's a lot harder than he thought it'd be. "You're welcome Y/n," She said, eyeing Marcus as she placed a hand on your head and Marcus nodded. You couldn't help but feel better at the interaction. Just having confirmation that they had your back in situations like these was enough to make you beam. You truly loved your team at Dedsec and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

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( I'm very iffy on this one tbh I kinda don't like how I wrote it but imma post it anywayyyyy !!! )

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