#i have lost my ability to function goodnight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miss-atena · 9 months

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TENA TENA TENA TENA can u write an eri x cody drabble where cody smiles at eri genuinely for the first time (and maybe praises her a lil) EHEHEHEHE thank you 🤭🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶🫶

ERIIIIIIII HIHIIIIII!!!!!!! 💜💜💜

Yes yes yes yes I will write them being cute and fluffy and everything, they are my entire world I love them I will kiss them on the forehead goodnight and bring cookies to them.

Genuine - Eri x Cody

The day started as noisy as ever on the manor. Creeps walking from side to side, doing their businesses. But a certain someone gets her spotlight in between them, with her very pink and girlie clothes, which if you squint hard enough and maybe close one it would sorta resemble what it should be: lab clothes. Eri made her way, with a pile of papers, to her "oh so lovely" Sir Cody. Her gas mask having a pink undertone and cute heart filters around her face, and her goggles being very impractical with their heart shape but when does she actually uses it? It destroys her makeup, damn it! She entered quickly the lab, receiving a groan of annoyance in return

"So sorry Sir Cody for getting late, I didn't remember if it was pink bow day, or white bow day, oopsies!" She did her apologies, but with a way too cheerful tone for Cody's liking.

"Did you at least bring the right papers this time around?"

"Yes they are right here!"

She run to the big office table that Cody did his reports, but misplaced her foot and fell, getting the papers all around

"Uhm... Teehee, I'll guess I'll have to clean up" she put her index finger on her cheek, giving a very... Anime girl style apologetic smile.

"Ugh... I hate my job sometimes... At least I can perform my test on you without you squirming around."

Eri was quick to pick the papers... To the best of her abilities, with acrilic nails so long, it was difficult, but she managed in the end.

Cody, though, was not on his best today. Maybe that helped worse his annoyance. He had a mad headache from overworking, and is now working solely on caffeine to function. Due to Eri's shenanigans, he had to rework his reports twice now, and he is getting tires pretty fast of her bullshit.

"Sir Cody Sir Cody!! The papers on your table! Do you want something to eat? Some water maybe? Or maybe you could use a nap?"

He... Didn't want to admit, but he really needed to sleep... After his reports, that is. His sleep deprivation started to make him have weird thoughts, for him at least. He never noticed how the pink Bimbo always tried to make him take more care of himself. Sure, EJ did that too before, and Toby tried, but it didn't have as much effect as her insistent way of doing it. He may be treating her a bit too badly, recently. It's not exactly HER fault she is a dumbass who doesn't know anything remotely related to how to act inside a lab, maybe she was homeschooled? Anyway, he maybe... Maybe should try being nice to her for once.

"Hey, Eri..."

"Yes Sir Cody, right at your way!!" She exclaimed with a big smile.

"no need to. Just... Thank you for taking care of me when I don't do it." He took his gas mask off, turning to look at her with a soft smile. Eri thought her heart would explode from that, and she, for the first time, was lost for words.

He... Never smiled at her. I mean, not like this at least... His sweet smile is so precious to her that she thought she would start crying.

"And... And I guess you are not so bad... You can actually be entertaining when you aren't a human hazard."

Tears were streaming down Eri's face after the closest to a praise he has ever given her. She run after him, to hug him, and she did reach him, but she hit her head on his microscope, which was way too tall for her.

"Mr Codyyy... I am the happiest girl on earth and moon and stars for being with you! Thank you so much for never pushing me away!" His sweet smile turned into a deadpanned face. That is literally all he does to her, everytime. But he noticed her head was with a cut from the sharp edge, and her forehead was bleading.

"Sure... Now go WALKING and sit on your chair so I can clean the blood"

"What blood?"

He groaned just like when she first came into the lab. It was gonna be a looooooong day...

I got a bit carried away with dialogue, you know I love then just... So much... They are just the silly little goobers. The yippies.

Hope you enjoy it!!

#creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #erimelodii #dear moots <3 #thanks for the request!#x virus x oc #creepypasta x oc #Eri (sona)#tena writing

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beforethekettlecalls · 5 months

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“ To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”

- Oscar Wilde

December 13th, 2023

Hello, to anyone who may come across this. I’m sure this isn’t the regular content people make on Tumblr but nevertheless!

Over the past few months, I’ve had quite the experiences. I’ve graduated high school! ..But I was also unemployed and unhoused for the summer, so it’s not all roses. We lost our family car too-which, living in an unwalkable city? That makes getting anywhere virtually impossible. It’s been a struggle, however it’s not exactly something I’d call “unusual” for my life. I’m not here to talk about those shortcomings, but to talk about how it’s been living afterwards.

I’m doing fine, for the record. I live in a relatively good home, and I take my medication on schedule so no problems there. It’s just- I think I’ve gotten pretty lonely. Now, for context, I’m a seventeen year old autistic person. I have never known not being in grade school until this year, and I take a strong liking to my routines. I honestly didn’t realize how badly it would affect my scheduling and ability to stay functional??? But here we are, regardless.

School seemed to be my only outlet to the outside world, apparently. I lost SEVERAL things, including: my interaction with peers (and the ability to socialize), a routine that flows properly throughout the day, and my educational source!!! I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT MY EDUCATIONAL SOURCE!!! I’m a lover of learning, sue me. Losing this huge chunk of time and interaction in my day has rendered me, like, practically useless. I can’t connect with people my age nor can I reach out to MAKE connections, it’s like being away from other teenagers has made me forget How To Teenager. Is this an autism thing? Possibly. I’m just so completely lost on what’s relevant to people my age and what I should be doing with my life. I’m sure a lot of people feel the same way, it’s not like being lonely is a brand new concept. But I don’t know, it feels different when you’ve been the outsider your whole life. The crux of autism, really. Yes I’m okay with being different, but am I? I have no clue how to act or dress or talk, I have no peers around me anymore to use as a socializing guide. Kinda feels like I’m regressing, in a way. Not to make this about how my autism sucks, it doesn’t suck and I wouldn’t change being autistic. I just wish I knew more about people.

I don’t wanna make this seem like some “oh, woe is me!” situation. I know it’s not special to be a little upset that you’re missing out. Except, when you’re living in a small town that doesn’t really consist of anything but regular, average people. I have, like, two friends IRL. I refuse to join any sort of dating or “friendship” app, but without viable transportation or consistent interaction with people, I’ve become distanced from everyone. I’ve taken to tumblr to express this because well, growing up on tumblr was where all the weirdos were. So maybe, just maybe, if you managed to get through this whole post, you’ve felt the same once in your life. Or even now. I just want to connect with people, or at least know that someone gets what I’m saying.

I’m not sure if this is like, gonna be a blog, or if I’ll even feel not embarrassed enough to post more. But I hope that if you read, you know a little more about me now.

I most definitely have more to tell, if in case you wanna listen.

Goodnight everyone!

- beforethekettlecalls (they/them)

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finsterhund · 10 months

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Thank goodness for Sly. Love my Special Sly.

Idk just this guy is such a huge comfort to me right now. I want to feel bad about hugging a stuffed animal goodnight every time I go to bed who had a 1998 retail price of 300 USD but he's just such an incredible toy.

I know he was made to be loved. That's important.

Still world building for a story inspired by him. I kinda want to come up with a new name for him for the story so I'm not just stealing the character made for the toy. But idk. Sly is just a perfect name for a conniving vicious-servant-esque slithering under the bed monster.

For my story I'm making enough design changes I think to be its own thing also. But man is his design super comfy to me.

I wish I could see a giant version of him. I've already been thinking a lot about making my own quilts. Quilted under bed monster. 🥹 Like the only thing that'd make him a better cuddler was that he was bigger. We're talking Lifesize/sleepingbag sized. Lol imagine one so big you can actually fit inside his pajamas bag tummy.

Idk so positives are Sly. I love my Special Sly. Still been unable to write or draw but with the world based on him world building documents come easily.

I wish I could do art fight. I want to get art I want to draw for friends. But grief and pain is just too much. I'm getting familial trauma and childhood pain dragged up a lot in my brain. I guess that's to be expected when I'm struggling with similar pains. I just wish I could have a relationship with my grandparents without all the baggage. Part of me fears what if they weren't good people like I remember. Because I was so small. Because there's people still around who aren't good people. But I know they were good. I can feel it. Idk. I wish I could start again have a new life be born to new parents and have a childhood that wasn't torn asunder by grief and abuse and trauma, you know? Imagine how I'd grown up if so. I'd actually have grown up for one thing. Not stuck in trauma child limbo.

Idk. Just hugging my Special Sly. Thank you Fishy for helping me get my hands on him.

Apologies as part of this Tumblr ate my gotdang post so I tried to the best of my ability to replace what was lost but it's not going to feel as complete as it should be.

I have been thinking about how wanting to create comes easily with Sly because my world for him to inhabit is simple and childish and a sort of dreamland esque thing. My magnum opus I've been working on since I was little is a gargantuan undertaking tied to my childhood and trauma and it's just so daunting to touch it. And I both want to change it and don't want to change it. It's literally grown up with me and it's become so much an untouchable thing. But with Sly I can go "hehe ho childlore HoDcore under the bed monster dimension go brrrrrrrrr"

My main fictional universe is very much if you didn't already know the result of the mythology esque "constellation creatures high fantasy" world of my earlier years mashed together with the "sci-fi post apocalyptic mutant and/or bionic dogs on what is almost certainly some form of Earth" world of my elementary school years that over the course of time I've been functionally merging the two at times conflicting concepts. And it very much is something I feel I still struggle with the balance of. Sometimes I feel it's way more obvious than others.

I've just put so much into this world that if I go in to change literally anything there's a domino/ripple/butterfly effect that happens where I've gotta extensively go and ensure there's consistency and that "nothing breaks" the established worldbuilding and planned plotlines and such in doing so. Which is pretty fucking exhausting.

But I mean that's what happens when there's over a decade of a child retreating into this fantasy world. A lot of time has passed, a lot of areas for growth and change. In real life I am stunted and didn't grow, but my world sure as hell did. Tired (and weak)

Idk if I'll ever be able to even publish book 1 (pretty much done in draft form except for when I feel compelled to overhaul shit) or book 2 (predominantly done but less than 1 and I have the same problem where I keep wanting to add and change) and I don't want to end up being a George Lucas about it and then not commit to it once I do publish and insist on changing and republishing ad nauseam forever. I'm gonna die before my life's work ever amounts to anything 😔

If you reduce it to the bare bones what has been set in stone is essentially Heart of Darkness but the boy and his dog are natives of the alien planet in question and it's at the point in history where the dark force is attempting to achieve purchase within the world rather than it already having largely taken over and deposed any and all opposition. But of course I have an unkillable Tolkien approach to the whole thing and I just have to have that encyclopedic brand of autism where I have to ensure consistency with everything from the way the world is designed to the way the damn physics works in relation to how physics works in the real universe. I was talking about this to some friends on discord and I joked about how this neuroses of mine could outcompete the entirety of Wookiepedia. Which is not exactly a healthy thing considering that Star Wars EU was the product of many people and Wookiepedia itself is the product of many people. And I'm just one immensely fucked up little boy with a special brain.

Creators, I want you to take your biggest longest worked on specialest project and I want you to seriously narrow down just how big of a world you've made for it. Is it a town? Is it a kingdom? Is it a continent? Is it a planet? Is it a galaxy? Or are you like fucking me and you've got in some capacity at least four goddamn star systems and while you do only largely focus on the one planet you feel compulsively the need to develop it as much as fucking possible and also to worldbuild stuff that you may never even get to in a similar degree with every other fucking planet? Bruh I've got a whole fucking potential universe to work with and my brain absolutely won't let me forget it even though a human brain really isn't equipped to process an entire universe. And I post none of this online because I've had people steal my shit literally since the third grade (Fuck you Jarod) and also where the fuck do I start with the posting? And once I post things god forbid I retcon it because not only do I need to alter things internally but publicly now too.

Yes, the only things I ever share at a bare minimum must be stuff I know isn't going to fucking change six thousand times over the course of the month. The only things I let other people see are the stuff where changing it would be sacrilege. Like Red Spot is always going to be a red eyed doberman with cropped ears and a docked tail and wings and a star collar. Orion is always going to be a little blue-tinted albino emperor penguin boy. And for 99% of people who know anything about my shit that's pretty much all they know, all they're ever going to know, and all I'm ever going to tell them. Because that at this point would never change. (If you knew me in school you may be aware that Red Spot has flip-flopped to some extent in turbulent mistake-ridden points of my life but shut up no he didn't. Forget that. What do you mean he had red-toned constellation coloration at one point rather than the black and rust typical doberman coloration??? Shut the fuck up I am gaslighting you. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget.) (Also an aside but the whole finsterhund lichthund wing morphology thing only initially was a thing I decided needed to exist because of how the type of wings Red Spot had was inconsistent. I built an entire fuckton of shit that has significant thematic impact and worldbuilding lore and societal connotations and etc. etc. because little baby Andy couldn't decide between dragon or eagle wings. Just to give a small example of why this monster has taken years and years and years and it is STILL FUCKING IN DEVELOPMENT HELL CHRIST MAN WTF SOMEBODY HELP ME)

So I've burned out almost completely with my beloved world. It sucks. I don't even know how to proceed from here. An obvious answer is just to strip away everything save for the bare minimum and start over. But I don't want to abandon my fucking child. And I know I'm just likely to do it all over again even if I managed to commit. Which I wouldn't in the first place. Friends tell me "oh just focus on books 1 and 2 and work with anything else later" but you don't understand I need to make sure that I never contradict myself ever and that even the tiniest thing within books 1 and 2 remain canon compliant permanently and inscrutably. God.

I do not have this problem with my Heart of Darkness headcanons. I feel more restricted with HoD. More restrained. Because I am violently picky about something potentially being an aberration or inconsistency or ruining the canon. I can't just harass Eric or Fred every hour of the day about shit I can't infer from what's present in the game itself so I am on a leash. Which in and of itself is stressful because I do wish there was encyclopedic levels of autistic worldbuilding that was canon that I knew for a fact was what Eric and Fred and Christian intended.

How do I let loose and have fun? Well the answer it turns out is Underbed.

My whole concept of Underbed is that it's some sort of backrooms esque nightmare realm where monsters from under the bed, in the closet, etc. live. And akin to the whole backrooms concept it's not like it's a planet or universe all its own. It's like a parasitic pocket dimension to Earth. Which Earth? It doesn't matter. It's implied to be powered by childlore and childhood dreams, imagination, fear, etc. So it can bend and stretch and fluctuate and I don't have to worry about how quilted patchwork creatures are "alive" or how things can travel between the two spaces or anything. And I haven't yet felt the compulsion to over explain and set compliancy rules in regards to lore, physics, etc.

Of course I do want to do crossover stuff with HoD, but not seeing Underbed as its own distinct planet like where the Darkland is does make this easier. I only have to worry about one of the locations having its "black hole at the heart of the planet how does this dictate how things work there" lore. Underbed gets to be "idk magic quilt lol" about the whole thing. The most I've gone into more realistic concepts is that perhaps it's implied the childhood creatures may have once been flesh and blood but were cursed somehow. Maybe.

I think that acknowledging how creating to me is a tiresome burden because of the state of my brain is a good first step but I don't know where exactly to go from here. I do wish I could just not give a shit but unfortunately my entire childhood has drilled into me that there are consequences for not covering your bases at all times.

I ended up contacting the surviving daughter of the designer of the original Sly, who is also the person who wrote the little beanie babies esque story on the tags to see about officially getting her blessing to make my own story based off of my Special Sly but I'm currently waiting on a response.

I do think that what I want to make is its own distinct thing to the point that I surely have every right to do it. I mean he's not even going to fully look like the original toy design and people make stories based on their childhood toys all the time but I'm so self-conscious and paranoid about the whole thing.

#text post #long post #negative #writer problems #vague hod

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sincerely-raine · 4 years

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Lovesick (Todoroki Shouto x Reader)

love·sick

/ˈləvˌsik/

adjective

in love, or missing the person one loves, so much that one is unable to act normally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Kinda short, also one of my first 'x reader's)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost everybody has a voice, whether they use it or not. Kouda? He uses it to talk to animals. Tokoyami? To communicate with Dark Shadow. And Shouji? He's never been one to talk much, but he likes to converse once in a while.

Todoroki has always been quiet. Even quieter around you. You never understood why. 'Is he shy?' You thought, 'Though he seemed fine talking to the others? Maybe I'm out of his league...he is Endeavor's son after all, and a handsome rich kid too, why would he need a normal person like me in his life to be anymore than just another fan?'

You wouldn't let that get in the way of making new friends. Whether he likes it or not.

But the truth was...your thoughts were completely wrong. Little did you know, his feelings for you were so strong he may as well take the world record for being the biggest lovebird to live.

Everytime you were around, he got so nervous, felt so fuzzy inside, he couldn't bring himself to speak. Caught up in his head, thinking about how beautiful you are, how adorable every expression you made was...how you were so nice towards him, even before the sports festival. He would be so blatantly rude to you, block you off, straight up tell you he didn't need friends, yet you still tried to invade his social life.

You're so persistent, and thoughtful, and understanding...once the sports festival was over...he couldn't stop thinking about you.

How he wished he could speak to you. Everytime you said something, he would just stare into your eyes with an expression so hard to read.

"She probably thinks I'm not interested in her...but how can I show my true feelings when all I can do is stare?" He murmured to himself before sitting up on his bed.

He looked over to a notebook sitting on his desk. That was it! He can write to you! Surely, that'll work!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sighed once he made it to your dorm. All he needed to do was slide the paper under the door, that was all! 'Who cares if they don't replicate your feelings, right?'

...right?

He was shaken from his thoughts when he saw your door open. You were standing there, 3 inches apart from him, with bedhead and adorable pajamas. Barely even awake.

"Hey, Todoroki," you said ever so quietly with the cutest blush,"Need something?"

...

"Todoroki? Hello? Anyone in there?" you giggled at your own reaction as he just stood there. "Well uh...it was nice playing stand infront of someone's dorm room with you, but I really should brush my teeth now. Gotta stay hygienic! Bye-bye!" he watched as you walked towards the elevator. What was he doing? Who cares. He was so close to you...he could smell your sweet, natural, cotton candy scent. He could almost touch you, hug you, even kiss you.

Wait...the letter! He was supposed to give you that love letter! And you were gone. Well, nothing's stopping him from giving you a late love letter...maybe even checking out your room? No...that's creepy to do that without permission...but it's not creepy if they don't know.....

He reached for the door handle and turned it, opening the door to reveal all the things you love in one dorm.

All the equipment and gear for the sports you love to play, every doodle and sketch you've ever drawn, a twin bed covered with multiple blankets and pillows with your favorite fandoms on them. He looked over to the corner of your bed and saw a journal with a lock on it. Your diary? Maybe so. And you were even foolish enough to leave the key right on your pillow.

He set the letter down and used the key to unlock the diary, and read anything he found interesting. He hoped you wouldn't walk in on him reading your book of secrets.

Over the past 5 minutes, he's already learned so much about you. Your pet cockatiel you had to leave at home to abide dorm rules, your older sister who you missed so much, all your past crushes and friends, and even enemies. And finally he got to the one page he needed to read.

And he read every last word.

"I always wondered why he never talks to me...did I say something? Am I annoying? And why do I have to like him? The one person who doesn't even bother to speak to me. I wish I never had the ability to feel, I know this will end in heartbreak and our relationship being even more awkward than before. It always does.

But I won't stop talking until he makes me. It'll teach both of us something! He'll learn to use his words instead of waiting for someone to use their mind reading quirks and I can work on whatever he tells me to!"

Were you talking about him? Who do you have feelings for?? He didn't know what to think.

He closed and locked your diary, left the letter and closed the door behind him. Walking back to his dorm, he was lost in his thoughts, hoping he'd get answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My legs hurt..." you whined, plopping onto the couch. "You'll get used to it!" Mina chimed in,"I always felt that way after playing Dance Dance Revolution but it gave me dancer legs after a while, and cool moves~" you giggled at her once she started doing the strangest dance she could think of.

"Thanks for taking me to the arcade, guys, it really did take my mind off him for a while."

Kaminari sat down next to you,"Don't worry bout it, but hey, if you just mentioned him, doesn't that mean you're thinking bout him right now?"

"Why don't you just ask him what's up?" Kirishima chimed in.

"Yeah, and keep asking over and over until he gives in."

You stood up "Sero, if I do that I'll just annoy him so bad that I'll have an even lesser chance to hook up with him...but thanks for the idea?"

He shrugged in response. "I'm gonna go to bed, sleeping will make Saturday come faster."

"Goodnight!" Uraraka said as you walked by. "G'night, chako."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You opened your door and saw a piece of plain, lined paper sitting in the middle of your bed. "Did I leave this here?"

You gently picked it up and laid down.

"Dear (Y/N),

I'm sorry if I upset you with my silence. I don't mean to leave you hanging all the time. But your presence makes me so flustered, I get lost in your words. I can't even use my own words to talk with you.

You make me lovesick. It's impossible to function as a normal human when you're around.

Everytime I see your sparkling eyes, my heart skips a beat. Everytime I hear soft voice, I feel like I'm listening to music. When I smell your sweet scent, I could faint.

I love you so much it's unhealthy.

Please forgive me for being so rude.

Your secret admirer, Todoroki."

...Love?

......Secret?

Todoroki???

Okay, for one, it's not secret when he tells you his name?

You were so shocked, you were expecting him to confess, but you weren't expecting a love confession! Not that you were mad, you were anything but mad. You didn't think you'd visit the arcade, come back, to try sleep, then get hit with a love letter from the one guy who acts like he hates you! (Even on accident!)

That night, you dreamt of red and white.

Part 2? Maybe? Possibly?

And don't be scared to let me know if I made any mistakes or give me suggestions!

#bnha shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #shouto x reader #mha shouto #bnha shouto #shoto+todoroki+x+reader #shoto todoroki #x reader

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musicnoots · 5 years

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A Thousand Times Good Night

Eugene Roe/Reader

A/N: Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Synopsis: After all the lives that were lost in his hands, Eugene can’t lose you, too.

Tags: @gottapenny @dustyjjumpwings @higgles123 @croatianbagudna @bandofmarvels @medievalfangirl @curraheev @those-dusty-jump-wings @wexhappyxfew

You walked through the dense Ardennes with your arms wrapped across your body and your chin buried as deep as you could into your scarf. You would have ran considering the sun disappearing past the horizon, but the cold weather was definitely not making things any easier for you. Everyday it was snowing like there was no tomorrow, and your feet, your nose, your hands, your ears froze and suddenly became useless.

How you were still a functional human being at this point was a question that seemed to never have an answer. You were still up and running around camp from sunrise to sunset until you were physically exhausted, but there was still a war to be fought, and General Taylor could care less about you freezing your ass in some forest in Belgium. On this particular day, you were up and running to Eugene’s foxhole for a special delivery and some good night cuddles.

His ears perked up when he heard footsteps on the snow, and when he poked his head out, he was relieved to find that it was you. “Y/N,” he said as you jumped into his foxhole and took a seat on the ground next to him.

“Hey there, bubs,” you greeted, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You holding up alright?”

“Yeah…just cold.”

“Well—“ You reached over to grab the unoccupied blanket from across the foxhole and draped it across his legs, making sure to tuck it in all tight and snug. He watched as you extended the blanket over his feet so that he was entirely covered in warmth, while you weren’t even paying attention to your own wellbeing. He looked up and found you shivering more than a dog coming out of a pool.

“No, no, here—“ Eugene stopped you, opened one side of the blanket and urged you to scoot closer so you both could share the thin blanket. “Don’t want my girl bein’ cold,” he said.

You smiled and laid your head on his shoulder to rest. “How you doing, Gene? Doing fine?”

“Yeah, just can’t find any scissors or morphine. You don’t happen to have any scissors on you? Sharp scissors?”

“No, but I do have…” You dug into the pocket of your jacket and pulled out three syrettes of morphine, seeing his eyes grow wide at the sight of them in your hands. “Merry Christmas, Gene.”

He took the syrettes with shaky hands and eyes as if he had seen Jesus, Mary, and Joseph himself. In your eight months of being together, Eugene swore he had never been so grateful for your existence—which was an over exaggeration in the heat of the moment. He loves you the same way he told you just before the jump, probably even more now. “H-How?”

“Got them off some dead replacement,” you said, not proud of the fact that you had to steal them off your dead comrade.

Nevertheless, Eugene was grateful that he had at least something to use when tending to the wounded instead of just his bare hands and words. “Thank you, Y/N,” he leans over a plants a soft kiss on your cheekbone, and you smile at the faint touch of his cold, chapped lips on your skin, “you’re a godsend.”

Your hands came to hold his arm gently, just like every night you come to his foxhole to say goodnight to the sun and hello to the moon and its stars. It’s a routine you’ve found yourself to be very familiar with, starting out as a quest to give him a goodnight kiss before scrambling back to your own foxhole. It wasn’t long until you’ve found yourself in Eugene’s arms snoring the night away.

“Glad to know you can still smile nowadays,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes. “Anyways, what’ve you been up to now? It feels like I haven’t seen you in twelve years.”

“Twelve hours.”

“Same thing.”

Eugene sighed. He definitely didn’t know who had it worse—you stationed somewhere in the forest against the front line, or him constantly tending to the wounded at the aid station in nearby Bastogne. “We—I lost another one. I don’t know what his name was...I didn’t look at the dog tags after he passed, but he so young. He was so young, Y/N, and he was screamin’ at me to save his life, and I didn’t. I shoved my hands into his guts while he screamed, and he still died.”

“Eugene—“

“Hm?” He pauses and looks up at you, noticing your tight grip on his jacket and the concerned look on your face. He hates it when he rambles on and on without even noticing it. “Sorry. It’s been really tough lately.”

“I see that, um…”

“See, I ruined the moment,” he huffs and slouches back with his arms crossed. “All because I couldn’t...I couldn’t save him.”

“Hey, Gene,” you took his face in your hands and turned it to face you although his eyes were trying their best to avoid you. He was never good at making direct eye contact in the heat of the moment, and you were always okay with that. “There’s a lot of people you can’t save, and that’s okay, honey.”

“B-But he was so young, Y/N! He was younger than me, younger than you! He was so young, and I let his life flash before his eyes,” he sniffled. “If I can’t care, if I can’t save these men, how am I gonna…” He quiets down. “How am I gonna take care ya like I said I was?”

Your thumb caressed his cheek gently, the pad of your thumb drawing circles on his cheek and tilting his head to look up at you. “Eugene, baby, I’m sure you’re gonna be great. You’ll take care of me, and I’ll take care of you—it’s just how it works.”

“But when you need me...I won’t be there to save you. If I can’t save a man screamin’ bloody murder at me, how am I gonna save you when need me?”

“Oh, Eugene…” You let his head rest on your shoulder, his red nose buried into the crook on your neck as you soothed him with the softest words he’s heard since his mama’s back home. You never fail to make him feel at home thousands of miles away.

“I didn’t save him, Y/N,” he sniffled, eyes closed shut. “He died on me, everyone does, and it’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.”

He stayed like that for a while—eyes closed, head on your shoulder, and his nose in the crook of your neck like you two had been every night. You know he takes every death personal, you know that he gets insecure when it comes to him and his ability to save people. You remember during the Battle of Carentan, he came up to you and started rambling about all the men that died, and how he could have done more but didn’t, and then he broke down crying in your arms.

In the moment, he’s grateful he has you, that you’re with him as the sun goes down and in his arms when the sun miss the stars in the morning sky. He hates that he’s become so insecure and that you have to deal with him whenever he’s like this, but you never complain. He’s not perfect, but who was perfect in the long run, anyways?

“It was never your fault, baby,” you said softly, and he didn’t stir even a split second. “It’s never your fault, and you know it. You’re doing your best, and that all we could ask for.”

“I know, I know, I just…I just don’t wanna lose you,” he manages to mumble out. “I never wanna see you in the aid station, never wanna have your blood on my hands, never wanna—“

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” you tell him, and he sniffles. You can’t tell if he’s crying, but it’s okay if he is—he’s only human. “That guy you were talking about earlier, it’s okay, Gene. He’s somewhere better now, okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

It’s silent for a small moment—Eugene was coming down the heat of the moment, and you were finally feeling yourself relax as nightfall approached. But if Eugene needed for a couple minutes, a couple hours longer, you would gladly stay up with him until he fell asleep on your shoulder, snores escaping his parted lips.

You felt him shift on your shoulder, he grabbed your hand and kissed your palm before intertwining his fingers with them. He was going to be okay tonight.

Perhaps tonight he would dream of you by the lake, holding his fishing rod as he tried to take a picture of you because you just looked so dang cute. He can’t wait for the day that actually happens—when he can take you out on all the dates he wants and not have to worry about a single thing except you and himself. He can’t wait for the day where he can put a ring on your finger and speak the words make him yours forever even though he swears he was yours the moment you kissed him.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Love you,” he says, and you smile, wishing you had the strength to kiss him again, but you were already half asleep by the time he kissed your hand. “Good night.”

“Good night, baby.”

#band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers #hbo war #easy company #eugene roe #doc roe #eugene roe x reader

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voidgremlin · 4 years

Text

An Oath to Hope (chapter 5)

Chapter 5: Cookie and Tea

First of all, Yasmin had planned only one thing when inviting the beautiful mystery woman to a cup of tea while as sleep deprived as a bat in the daylight and it was to see the gorgeous woman, just to see her, to listen to her, just a little longer like putting pause on the most perfect still in a movie and get to appreciate it.

Which is in fact, a quite beautiful plan with nice and selfish intentions at the same time and Yaz is pretty sure she was too tired to be a real judge of that.

Secondly, She is very very tired and haven’t slept when she should have. Her brain usually makes miracle in those conditions like in the finals period where she would cram into several sleepless nights to works on lessons and stuff but this time, this one single time. Yaz’s brain is broke and cannot function. Was it because she was there ? Who knows.

So there should be no one to blame her for when poor Nadzieja as soon as she passed by the door and got showered with attention by Yaz’s family. Her coat taken off, Sonya in awe with her earrings, tea made for her right away as well as many sweet pastries. They all sat around the kitchen table, asking wildly how the two of them met.

“Really ? The O’Brian’s car ?” Najia, Yasmin’s mom, asked in disbelief to which the blonde woman answered with a strong nodding that could belong to five years old.

“This car made way too much noise, remember how it woke us up when he took his grandson to school one morning ? It was so awful !” Hakim grumbled before sipping the tea. “This man should take care of his car more god-“

“Hakim !” Najia cut him making eyes. “Be kind ! You don’t know how they dealing with…” trailing off staring to the newcomer.

“Right right darling.” Hakim grumbled again. Nadzieja only looked at them for a short period before staring down to the plate of pastries, swallowing with difficulty. Sonya took over to avoid an awkward silence.

“Is it true you made Yasmin repair a car ?” she mocked. “How long did that took ?”

“Well, we did took most of the night when I can do it in a few hours.” Nadzieja said candidly. “But it was good work !” she added turning her head to Yaz who was slowly dozing off. “You did good work !” The affirmation was earnest and one of the kindest thing Yaz could remember happening to her. Not that she cared a lot about her ability to be a mechanic. It was to not feel like she fucked up.

“Ah ! Nadz my dear you are a miracle for being able to make Yasmin do anything with her hands ! She is so not skilled” Intervened Sonya with a smile.

This statement made Yasmin rose up to make a little punch on her sister’s arms too tired to do anything else. It made Nadzieja chuckle.

“I think Yaz is someone very skilled and brilliant. She could be an engineer if she wanted to.”

“Really ?”

“And yet she decided to be a cop.” Hakim murmured.

“Dad please we already talked about this.” Yaz whispered back.

“I know and I won’t stop complaining. You should put your time in better activities Yasmin.”

Yasmin only sighed refusing to explain herself any further. She knows what she had to do and as she laid her head on the table being lulled to the sounds of nice chat and the birds chirping. She felt like she accomplished something grand. Finding her again was fate, a good roll of the dice, she wondered if she will be that lucky again. If she, maybe, could lo-

She fell asleep right away.

It only took two side conversations about one of the many travels of the new lady in town and one about Sonya’s plans for the future before noticing Yasmin snoring on the table. It made Najia chuckle before explaining that this new job was quite tiring and that she refused to sleep today for her. Nadzieja blushed and stuttered at the mention.

After this they all worked together to put to sleep the young lady, Sonya and Najia wanting to try to carry her to bed before the woman with the rainbow t-shirt swopped the sleeping body like she weighted nothing, to carry her in her bed. The bedroom was small but comfy, with blue tint and small golden lights on the desk who wasn’t cleaned up in days, maybe years. Bed undone by Yazmin bolting earlier in the day. If anything the blonde woman felt like home, not her car even though it is her home. It felt like Home, something she lost, chose to lose, years ago.

She laid her down, carefully, covering her with the blankets. Yasmin moved to be comfortable mumbling a thank you, before opening her eyes to see the blonde woman. Nadzieja was pretty sure she didn’t really really see her but she smiled at her sight, a sweet smile. It made her pause, considering something, before hearing Sonya knocking on the door softly.

“Hey, mom wants to know if you want to stay for dinner ?”

Nadzieja nodded, guess she will stay for dinner too for some reason.

The kitchen was bubbling with laughs and casserole heating up. Hakim made the dough for a naan bread with meat, while Sonya and her mom prepared sweet rice called Zarda. Nadzieja stayed clear of the kitchen looking from afar their actions and work as a team.

“Don’t you want to help ?” Sonya asked while cutting the pepper bells.

“I would love nothing more but alas disaster comes when I goes in the kitchen.”

“Like what ?”

“Well.” She squinted pondering if she should present herself as such a disaster to this loving and caring family. “When I was little, I decided to be chief, of pastries ! And I tried it, cake with flour, mud and some cinnam-“

“Mud ? I have heard mud ?!”

“Plants get nutrients from it ! And we need bacteria in our digestive system ! Soil is for the best!” Nadzieja said adamantly.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure we need to keep the bacteria’s out.” Hakim said while forming the dough.

“Anyway, in the end, the cake cooked just fine, but I have started a fire just in time to be forever banned from all the kitchen’s in the universe.”

“How is that possible ?”

“I am that lucky.” Nadzieja answered smug. “Do you know where I could help ? Repairs ! I can do repairs ! Do you need something fixed ?”

After a good dinner and laughs, Nadzieja was also invited to stay sleeping, hearing about the car situation and Najia refusing to let the woman leave the flat. They installed her in Yaz’s room who was still sleeping soundly. A comfy mattress prepared just for her and everything. They left the room telling her goodnight and the only thing Nadzieja felt like doing was to watch the young woman sleep, sit beside her bed.

“Hi,” she wishpered “I- I-… Thank you for the tea, the talks, the dinner even. You weren’t there but I cried at dinner. Been a while since I had a family dinner. I think I miss it.” Her eyes started to fill with tears. “Your mom is awesome by the way, she was so worried for me and wanted to make laugh. She is very good. So are you.” She started patting Yaz’s hand “I- thank you so much. I will probably leave before you wake up. But it was nice.”

Thank god it was the weekend even for Yaz, she could rest. Thank god her mom was so caring and patient with her, probably carried her to the bed. Made sure she was well. Or was it the mystery woman ? She wasn’t sure.

When Yaz woke up it was 4 a.m. which was normal when working at night. She stared the ceiling, her mind still hazy. She didn’t gave the address to the woman did she ? Oh god she didn’t ! She have to find her again ! Gosh. Today is got to be a long day.

While she felt the anxiety of responsibility and wariness over Nadzieja’s health rise in her gut, she also felt a touch, a small touch and a small snore. To her right, the blonde woman in her mom’s pajamas, kneeling next to her bed, her head with fussed hair laying on the mattress, holding her hand.

There were a mattress ready for her made by Yaz’s mom but the sheets and blankets were untouched. She was here. Touching her hand. She was still there.

Yaz silently thanked god for that moment.

She forced the sleepy woman on her bed, to rest more comfortably. After some struggle she accomplished the deed. Nadz beside her, snuggling in the blankets resting her head on her shoulder, Yaz stayed like that and waited for the sun to rise and for her people to wake up.

After a few hours, Nadzieja rose up. Delighted to be there.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Yaz answered.

“Is it a typical situation in your household ?”

“No” she chuckled.

A little silence fell down, Nadzieja pondering something.

“I was supposed to leave you know.”

“But you didn’t.”

“You were here. Why would I leave that ?”

#dw #doctor who fanfic #an oath to hope #yazmin khan #my stuff

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chronsart · 5 years

Text

hi.

So... I became homeless. I have to get my and my families stuff moved before Friday. There’s nothing scarier than having a black van and two deputy”s show up at your house early in the morning. Actually they were my alarm clock because I had stayed up later than usual...

You see my dad last two weeks had nine ER visits for high blood pressure (240 over 90, I don’t know how he’s standing. He was dizzy and fell. ) and so I and my mom were staying close to him to keep an eye on his health... Many times he’d wake up at 3am and say that he didn’t feel good, and his bp skyrocketed. Like clockwork. i carry around things they needed and my mom took care of the phone calls for the ambulance and driving to the hospital.

Anything but recovered the police show up with a black van moving squad and my dad can’t go to thehospital anymore because he has to help lift and carry things out.

It’s really hard for him emotionally because he built this house. He’s lived in it For roughly 45 years and I have lived here 22. I remember growing up here, and helping him fight for 10 years against fraudulent attacks and claims to our home and a collection on a lean that was never even made. but is there justice?

Is there reward for our efforts toiling and fearing and praying?

No justice for the wicked I suppose. This world is unforgiving . It’s been ten terrible drought full years of constant work and no reward. My parents have lost their faith in the world and I am trying my best to help them but I am small and can only do so much before my swollen knees finally break and my fingers skin tear from all the tape and boxes I’ve made.

We are running out of time and we have 60 years worth of items on this property shared between my dad and his 11 family members who abandoned the place after the grandparents died. There’s so much to do, we need tape, we need boxes, we need drivers and movers and there’s no time. My sister cried her eyes out today because she wants to go to school but she can’t if were homeless. She needs an address and she needs someone to drive her to her choir concerts. She’s such a people person, and I commend her in that and trying so hard to find ways and friends she can rely on to stay with and keep going to school... she really wants to go to college, which is something neither my brother or I were able to do because we stayed home to take care of our parents and maintaining the house and the constant everyday mail and filing and research of the attack on our home. years of fear and unknowing and desperate hope have whittled our nerves and our ability to function. We’ve become isolated and outcast in these troubles because of how stressful our lives have become for this.

It’s very late... I need to finish my food, I need to wake up early and prepare. I feel so angry at the world. Here are so many people I rightfully thrown out on the streets. Not because they are lazy or useless... they are treated and made to believe they are so through this fight. It’s immoral and evil for people to be allowed or even motivated to do this shit to families, attacking them so much that they don’t even have a second to breathe.

I don’t know what the future holds. I’m scared for my family, their safety and their minds, and my pets. I don’t even know if anyone will read this, I don’t know how I will want to. Hide this post after I reread this later, but I need to talk about this. But i don’t know what more I can do. If anyone has even a penny to give and help us survive this, I would be infinitely grateful.

If you want to donate, all i have right now is my ko-fi: ko-fi.com/A8313P8 thank you for reading... I don’t have anything else to say, I’ don’t know what to say. ... I wish you well, and far from the potential of these horrors ever happening. Goodnight.

#help #foreclosure #homeless #chrons life

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finalspaceplace · 5 years

Text

Another fic I wrote over 7 months ago. It’s not my favorite, but, it’s something.

Quinn dusted off the gray shirt she had found lying in one of the closets in the infirmary. The ship was cool and quiet. Gentle light from passing stars and nebulas filtered in through the windows. Small lights lining the hallway allowed her to see as she passed through the vessel, finding the room she chose. If there was anything to be thankful for on this adventure, it was the ability to have their own sleeping quarters. Speaking of bedrooms, Gary slept only a few doors down from her. The man had already gone to sleep earlier. They hadn't spoken much in the past two days. The occasional glance and hello as they passed one another in the hallway. Or small talk at breakfast. Other than that, Gary was keeping much to himself. She couldn't blame the guy either. Losing a friend was difficult, especially in such a brutal way. Somewhere on this ship Quinn knew there was a small orange Ventrexian climbing through the air vents. No one had talked to Little Cato but the night before she could hear the little pawsteps the kid made as he climbed through the air ducts.

Sighing, the woman was about to walk through the door to her room before a cry reached her ears. There was only so many people aboard this ship. Yet again, she heard another whimper. Of course she had to check this out. Only a moment later did she realize the sound was emitting from the blonde's bedroom.

Quinn knew Gary could be a child sometimes, but he did not usually talk in his sleep. She wouldn't blame him if he had though. The man was only 30 years old and he had lost almost everyone he had every cared about. Plus, he had spent the past five years of his life living in isolation. The woman wondered how Gary actually still had a little bit of control, and hadn't completely lost it yet. He was a bit crazy, but not as much as a person that has dealt with the problems he has should be.

Surely he could handle this himself.

A sniffle.

Quinn reached her right hand to the door, hoping HUE would allow her to enter. This was breaking so many boundaries she put up between her and him, but he needed help. They were the only two humans aboard the Galaxy One. Maybe getting a little closer wouldn't be a horrible idea...

Quinn shook her head. No, they had to keep going. No distractions. Gary needed a good rest so he could function well in the morning. Alright, time to go.

The automatic doors slid open, causing a certain green alien's antennas to perk up. This did not wake him though. Mooncake was nestled underneath Gary's human arm, sleeping peacefully. The same could not be said for the other.

The blonde's eyes were squeezed shut, and his grip on Mooncake grew by the second although he didn't seem to mind.

"No-no..Mooncake..you can't die." murmered Gary. He wrapped around Mooncake even more, pulling the creature closer. "I c-can't lose you too...I lost my dad..I lost Avocato..I lost Quinn..." he cried. Quinn watched a tear come out of his closed eyes. The man was asleep but clearly having a wild dream.

He lost me? She thought. I'm still very much alive.

"Mooncake..please." Gary cried. Quinn looked down at her feet, then took in a deep breath. What she was about to do was taking an even bigger step over the boundaries.

Walking over and placing a hand on his shoulder, she shook him lightly. Mooncake quickly awoke and floated up to face Quinn, turning his head slightly in curiosity.

"Chookity?"

Quinn reached out, softly petting the creature’s head. He hummed, leaning into her hand.

“Hey there Mooncake.”

"M-Mooncake? Mooncake!?" Gary's eyes shot open and he felt around in the spot where his green friend had just been on the bed. Panicking, Gary looked up to see Quinn and Mooncake watching him. His eyes widened and he began to blush.

"Oh um, Quinn, what are you doing in here?" he asked, trying to pretend he wasn't only wearing his underwear. He kept the blankets covering most of his body.

"I heard you crying, so I decided to come take a look. I'm sorry to invade on your privacy. But I was worried." she said. Gary looked at the floor, then back up at her.

"Is there something you want to get off your chest Gary?" she asked. He looked surprised by the question.

"No..."

"Gary."

"What makes you think that?" he asked, shrugging.

"I heard you crying about Mooncake." she replied.

"Ooohh" spoke Mooncake.

"I-I just have nightmares sometimes, okay? Sometimes I worry about losing him." Gary rubbed his arm awkwardly.

"Do you worry about losing the rest of us as well?" she asked.

"....Yes. All the time."

"Gary, don't worry yourself too much, okay? There's a lot going on and the stress will only make it worse. Don't let these things get to you." she smiled warmly, putting her hand on his arm.

"Thanks Quinn..." he smiled shyly.

"Anytime. Now, I'll let you two get back to resting. We've got a lot to do tomorrow." she finished, before turning to head back out the door. Mooncake quickly repositioned himself underneath Gary's arm, snuggling up to the human. The sight was such a sweet one. Quinn took one last look before leaving the room. The two of them were inseparable.

"Goodnight, Gary. Goodnight Mooncake." she whispered, before allowing the automatic doors to shut behind her. She didn’t want to admit it, but talking to Gary actually made her feel better, even if she was the one helping him. Smiling lightly, she retreated back to her room to sleep off the rest of the night.

#final space #gary goodspeed #quinn airgone #quinnary #airspeed #I know this story sucks but I needed to post something new to this blog

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heave-hyung · 5 years

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It Could be Worse

A/N: There was an anon request behind this, but I deleted it accidentally in my mobile formatting-ask-answering spaz-ness,

“Sick fic where one member is very gassy and another is trying to help them feel better, but the sickie is very embarrassed”

This was very inspired by a great rp I did with @grossbangtan some time ago!!

x Jimin and Yoongi are two very different people.

Well, for the most part. They had some similarities--and of course they got along great--but generally, they dealt with things differently. Jimin was very openly worried and empathetic, whereas Yoongi was a little more subtle. Jimin cared very deeply about his appearance, whereas Yoongi didn’t have nearly as many self-care habits as he should. Jimin never stops working physically; Yoongi sleeps for twenty hours at a time when he’s not curled over a laptop writing. Yoongi is blunt where Jimin is soft.

Yoongi is indifferent to the things that embarrass Jimin the most.

And unfortunately, Yoongi knows Jimin well.

The night after a long venture to Florence was spent with the boys bar-hopping and binging on a bunch of rich Italian food at some cute little restaurant over the water, all with the slightest buzz. After eating and by the time they’d all gotten home, the minor effects of the alcohol had almost entirely worn off, and everyone was exhausted. Jimin was ready to collapse on a bed and sleep contentedly. Except, he really couldn’t. Because as good as all of that extensive dinner was, the heaviness of Italian cuisine wasn’t sitting well with him at all. He could almost feel the gas swelling in his belly when he pressed his fingertips to it, and he bit back a whimper as he plopped down on his temporary bed.

As if Jimin didn’t get embarrassed enough by bodily functions as a whole--he’d blush madly even when being completely alone--it really didn’t make things better that Yoongi was his roommate for the time being. Yoongi was the last person he’d let go around. Unlike the maknaes, who were shameless and would compliment Jimin more than they would look down on him, or Namjoon, who really didn’t care--even Hoseok, who found it adorable, or Jin, who was always more concerned than anything--Yoongi was reserved. And Jimin had a habit of taking Yoongi’s silence as judgement. Jimin had a habit of taking anything as a judgement towards him and dwelling on it.

Yoongi had taken care of Jimin a few times, sure. But that was different--Jimin knew full well that none of his bandmates could get mad at him for being sick, because that’s something that can’t be stopped in the case of it happening, no matter how hard Jimin may try. But gas is different--what if it really got on Yoongi’s nerves or something? Yoongi wasn’t the shy type, but he also didn’t burp or fart around the others too often, and Jimin had never been rooming with him in cases like this.

Yoongi walked into the room to join Jimin a good ten-or-so minutes after Jimin had buried himself in a blanket, grabbed tightly onto a pillow, and went through Twitter to distract himself from his endless worrying. The older man could almost instantly tell something was up--sure, they were all tired, and that was a perfectly sound excuse for Jimin to slip away from the group’s last goodnight’s. But he’d seemed paler than usual--maybe it was the lighting? Was he blushing when he left?--and he was almost shaky. It was even weirder that he’d left before hugging at least Taehyung, because it was really a habit for those two to hug before bed, being two of the most cuddly members of the band. Still, the older man didn’t say anything, giving Jimin a chance to come to him--or for things to get bad enough to where he needed to intervene.

Of course, Jimin wouldn’t know it--Yoongi wasn’t obvious when he was having minor stomach issues, like gas--but his stomach wasn’t necessarily happy with the foreign indulgence, either. Though he wasn’t embarrassed by that kind of thing, per se, he was relatively courteous. He wouldn’t mention it to begin with. It’s the sort of thing where he figured, ‘if it happens, it happens,’ and he wouldn’t get too bashful unless it became a big deal.

Jimin’s heart rate doubled the second Yoongi had walked in. He didn’t look up at Yoongi, instead choosing to scroll furiously through his phone, trying to distract himself. He curled up tighter around the pillow he was holding. A blush formed on his cheeks just thinking about how this could end.

Yoongi layed back on his bed, which was on the other side of the room, leaning against the headrest. He also went on his phone, instead choosing to review some lyrics he’d been working on. He’d cast a glance over to the other boy every so often, who remained relatively still for a while. It grew hard for Jimin to stay still and keep himself contained after a couple of minutes, and he started to shift a bit.

As if the world was against him, another fatal flaw made itself known: the bed was very, very creaky. Every slight movement he made was emphasized by the loud noise of the mattress creaking, and Jimin had a choice to make; still himself and risk losing control, or annoy Yoongi with the noise? Or he could just pretend nothing was happening until he was called out on it.

It took a few minutes, but after a particularly loud sound pierced the air, Yoongi finally spoke up. “Jimin, jesus, why are you shifting so much?”

Jimin jumped at Yoongi’s voice. “A-Ah, sorry hyung! Just can’t get comfortable.” He sounded nervous, and it was obvious he was hiding something.

Yoongi fully turned to face Jimin, looking him up and down. He was curled up tight around a pillow, phone abandoned on the bedside table beside him. His cheeks were pink, and he was sweating a bit. Yoongi’s immediate instinct was that he had a fever. “Are you sick? You’re flushed.”

“N-No, hyung, I’m fine.” Jimin insisted, giving him a tense smile.

After a moment’s deliberation, Yoongi sighed and stood, going over to check Jimin for a fever just to be sure. It was only partially relieving that he didn’t feel warm; what was wrong with him, then? He sat on the edge of the bed beside Jimin, running a hand through the younger boy’s hair. “Is your stomach upset? I can get you something for it, I think I have Pepto…”

“No, no, I don’t need--” Jimin swallowed back a belch, clearing his throat. “I don’t need anything. I’m fine.”

Upon seeing him tense and gulp, Yoongi’s first assumption was that he was going to vomit. “Are you nauseous? I can get a buc--” Suddenly, Yoongi realized what was probably going on. Jimin wouldn’t refuse Pepto if he just had an upset belly. He’d be clingier if he was caught feeling sick. If there was no fever behind his flushed cheeks, and he was nervous...he probably just had gas. Yoongi gave an exasperated sigh, scooting Jimin over to lean back against the headrest behind him and pull the younger boy to his chest. He ran a hand down his upper arm, wondering what he should do. He was sure Jimin would get even more embarrassed and freak out if he put it bluntly.

Jimin stiffened at the sudden jostling, not used to being randomly cuddled by Yoongi--and not prepared for the sudden movement when he felt like a ticking time bomb. Of course, he’d never deny being cuddled or push anyone away, even if he was tempted to in the moment to save some of his pride. Yoongi inconspicuously slid his hand down to Jimin’s middle, and Jimin’s heart stopped. His worst nightmares seemed to come true--Yoongi applied only the slightest bit of pressure, and yet that still sent a deep belch up Jimin’s throat. He clapped a hand over his mouth, blushing bright red. “S-Sorry!”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, not pulling away and therefore encouraging another burp from the younger boy. He apologized again.

“You really think I care?”

Jimin shrugged and hid his face in the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Even if he expected it, he didn’t really see why Jimin was so embarrassed. When Jimin burped once more and his apology almost sounded like he was about to start crying, Yoongi figured he had to do something.

It would really end up a win-win type of thing, anyway--soothing Jimin’s embarrassment, and providing some relief from Yoongi’s own upset stomach, right? So, to prove his point that he really didn’t care, Yoongi let out a rumbling, loud belch of his own. “See? I don’t mind.”

Jimin whined softly. Though it was, strangely enough, somewhat comforting, it didn’t do much to make Jimin any more confident. And, though burping was embarrassing, there was an even more embarrassing problem tugging at his lower belly. And that...that was a whole different story.

Yoongi started rubbing gentle circles into Jimin’s belly, knowing he wouldn’t feel any better if he stayed tensed up. “Come on, Jiminie. You’re not going to feel any better if you keep holding it all in.”

Yoongi’s ministrations encouraged another couple of deep burps from the younger boy, and he could practically feel the blush on him. Something similar to anxiety welled up in Jimin’s chest as he realized he was quickly losing the grasp he’d managed to keep on his other end, and by the time the resulting trumpeting outburst petered off, he was almost tearing up in embarrassment. A flow of bubbling bursts of gas soon followed, and Jimin had officially lost control of his body--though it wasn’t visible to the older boy, he was a properly inhuman shade of red. Jimin tried to apologize and excuse himself but, much to his chagrin, he pretty much lost his ability to keep up.

Yoongi, frankly, found it hilariously adorable if anything. Knowing words wouldn’t work to calm Jimin down by then, Yoongi figured he’d persist in his methods, and he allowed himself to fully relax, too. It took Jimin a moment to realize that he properly wasn’t alone in his painfully audible intestinal troubles, and when he managed to bring himself to pick up his head and look up at Yoongi, the older man gave a shrug that sent both of them starting to wheeze. Jimin never thought he’d see Yoongi’s swag-shrug in this sort of situation. Jimin never pictured being in this situation. It took a minute for them to catch their breath after the laughing fit, which was heightened by the exhaustion that plagued them both.

“But, really,” Yoongi spoke once they’d both calmed down, “you don’t have to hold back around me. Or be embarrassed about anything. I won’t judge you.”

Jimin hummed and shrugged, resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. “It’s embarrassing no matter who it’s with.” A particularly loud, bassy fart escaped him, deepening the blush that had just started to fade with the distraction of a laughing fit. Yoongi gave a gassy outburst of his own, sighing softly.

“I’ve seen you at your worst, you know.” Yoongi turned his face away from Jimin for a moment to let out an obnoxiously loud belch. Jimin would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little...was impressed the word? He must have been spending too much time with the other maknaes for that to be his first thought.

“Don’t remind me. You all have,” Jimin ducked his head. “I’m not proud.”

“Well, I was trying to say that as comfort, but,” Yoongi ran a hand through the younger man’s hair.

“I know,” Jimin giggled a bit. Yoongi returned a hand to Jimin’s middle, rubbing gentle circles again, which easily encouraged another handful of burps and farts from him. Neither of them spoke for a moment, the silence broken only by their combined cacophony of gas.

Yoongi was the one who spoke, only half meant as something of an attempt to say something calming. “It could be worse.”

Jimin broke out into something more of a fit of giggles. “Stop trying to comfort me,” he looked at the older man, smiling. “You’re tired, and probably drank the most out of all of us.” Jimin gave a gentle sigh, turning his head back away and letting his eyes flutter closed, leaning a little more on Yoongi.

“But you’re right,” Jimin continued after a moment of silence. “It could always be worse.”

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textsfromtheborderline · 5 years

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Hey, I'm in a long distance relationship and my boyfriend has been really busy for the past two days bc of Christmas and stuff. I noticed that the less I talk to someone, the more detached I feel from them? If that makes sense? Like I still have feelings, really strong feelings for him but I feel so detached from them? I'm not even sure if that's the right way to describe it and I hope you get what I mean. Be said he'd call me tomorrow but I'm not really excited. Is that a thing of borderline?

Yes, I totally get what you mean!This is definitely a Borderline thing; it has to do with us struggling to form healthy emotional attachments and object/emotional permanence. This is a person’s ability to understand that people and emotions continue to exist even when they cannot be seen. In addition, it is a person’s ability to understand that both “good” and “bad” qualities continue to exist in a person, and that they should be remembered as a whole person, not just selectively remembered as all “good” or all “bad” when they cannot be seen.

Most children learn this concept at a very young age (usually through the cute game hide and seek or peek-a-boo) in order to reassure them that their parents/caregivers are still around and still love them.

Thanks to the emotional dysregulation of BPD, however, Borderlines have trouble grasping emotional/object permanence. Then “detachment” happens. It often feels very cold, or distant, or like you’re “losing” someone when this is very probably not the case.

The best way to address this is through learning healthy intimacy skills and respecting people’s boundaries. It’s important to avoid being overly clingy (as I’ve learned the hard way) and not to impulsively lash out or preemptively abandon a person when you feel detachment creeping in.

As you point out yourself, you still feel really strongly for your boyfriend. I know that long distance relationships are tough; that nothing can ever truly replace a warm touch or the feel of someone’s presence; but in this digital age there are still so many ways to reach out and feel close to people you love.

So don’t worry, you aren’t “losing” your boyfriend. He’s offered you reassurance that he’s only very busy, and that you will have more time together when things settle down. But I realize it’s hard to be patient, it’s hard to keep doubts at bay, and it’s hard to believe in something permanent when you can’t immediately see it or hold it.

That’s why having faith in yourself and the other person is so crucial. Having faith in both of you together requires a level of maturity: sitting down with yourself and going “okay, I know I love this person and this person loves me. I know that there’s a reason that right now, we can’t be as close as I would like to feel. But we can work things out and everything it sill going well.”And then it requires the bravery of discussing the fact that you feel detached, specifically explaining that it’s because you’ve been talking less. Now the most obvious solution is to simply talk more, but you still have to be careful and understand what the other person’s comfortable level of “more” is. Some people like to literally schedule times of the day to talk, others just talk until they have to go do other things, and still others take whole days devoted to reaching out to their long distance beau via FaceTime or Skype or various messengers. It’s still all doable!I think this detachment is putting a lot of pressure on yourself and causing you to worry when there really isn’t a reason to.

You’re not feeling as excited as you were about him calling because you want it to come from his own initiative; you want him to want to call you as much as you want him; you want him to need your presence as much as you need his. And honestly, try to keep in mind that he does love you because he’s your boyfriend, it’s just that people express their feelings in different ways. We can’t be so self-absorbed that we forget that other peoples’ minds don’t function like ours and their emotions are processed differently.

So try to give your boyfriend time and space when he needs it. That will also make him want to reach out to you more, because you’ve shown a comfortable level of trust and respect.

Most of all, I want you to gently remind yourself, day by day, that you are not alone, being abandoned, or losing someone when you don’t talk to them for a while. They haven’t “gone” anywhere, and neither have your emotions.

Just consider my personal example:I absolutely adore messaging with the wonderful woman that’s come into my life recently with all the grace and power of refreshing Spring rains which wash away the stale past. We both have BPD, so we’re both very aware of each other’s needs and wants as well as being able to anticipate potential concerns.

Well, she didn’t message me goodnight one evening and it sent me into a very anxious, self-loathing, and clingy spiral. We talked it out and it’s okay now, thanks to her compassion and understanding, but I still felt bad that I’d let myself forget her right for space and time just because I really, really wanted to talk to her.

As it turns out, she was just busy. Nothing had changed or been lost. Reality was doing perfectly fine outside my head. Like most responsible adults, we’re both busy and that doesn’t mean we don’t care for one another.

So it’s important to let people talk and respond at their own pace, trusting that they will, and having the faith that things are going to be okay. Because I promise, they are going to be okay.

#anon #q + a #textsfromtheborderline

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heoneyology · 5 years

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I am now losing all ability to function I just realized I’ve been up 24 hours exactly now lmfao

I have incubus!san and serial killer!ateez on my mind atm, and have lost all focus for writing my own works oops.

Desire and Hearts on the Line will both update today after I have slept-

in the meantime the following post is a teaser for a fic I’m working on for @chasingatinydream completely against her will; please enjoy as I usually don’t post teasers c:

also tell me your theories after you read it

okay goodnight/morning here’s hoping I dream of hongjoong and am cleansed of all san thoughts

#m.txt #i am unable to stay sitting up at my laptop anymore ahaha #tonight has been fun though

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themiddlelayer · 5 years

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One step forward, two steps back

I really wanted to be able to write about my weekend up in Phoenix for Java Bear’s birthday. I wanted to write about how welcomed his wife made me feel from the minute I walked into the restaurant, all the really cool new people I met in person after seeing them in the poly FB group, and our coffee date Sunday morning that ended with kisses that put a big smile when I think about it. I wanted to write about the good.

But of course, there was more to the weekend.

MM had plans to come up to Phoenix on Sunday for 2 coffee dates, one of whom was at Java Bear’s party. I had told him that I didn’t think that dating was a good idea and that I was concerned about him using it as a bandaid. That was the very reason I initially said that I wanted to keep things more platonic with Java Bear this weekend. MM didn’t listen.

I left Java Bear’s party around 11pm Saturday night and about lost it driving back to my hotel. This overwhelming sense of pain and loss just came over me. I kept it together long enough to get into my hotel room safely and Java Bear texting me helped me keep my eyes dry a little longer.

Shortly after we said goodnight the floodgates opened. I was laying there sobbing when MM started messaging me. He had gone on a date and got a goodnight kiss. He said that it made him realize that he didn’t want to date. What he wants is the quople. He wants Gypsy and me. And he spelled it out in that order.. Gypsy first.

Things spiralled from there into anger on my side then into him bringing up things he said he didn’t feel like he could tell me before. It was around 3am when we attempted to say goodnight for the 3rd or 4th time and I couldn’t let go of some of the things he had said so I called him.

We were on the phone until after 5am during which time he asked me to come home as soon as I could and he told me that he was going to cancel his plans to come to Phoenix. There was talk of getting in the car right then but all the crying and the lack of sleep meant that it wouldn’t be safe. Plus, I really did want to have breakfast with Java Bear and MM said he understood.

My nap only lasted about an hour then I got up and checked out of the hotel and met Java Bear for breakfast. On the way there I stopped for gas and bumped a water display at the gas station. It was really good that I was staying long enough for a real meal and coffee before the drive.

Breakfast was great! Conversation flowed as easily in person as it has in text all these months. There was goodbye kissing... more than just kisses. I remember feeling my whole body relax in his arms like all the tension I’ve been holding had dissolved in that moment. I’d gone in feeling like I needed to keep some distance because I don’t want him to be a bandaid for me. After talking to MM all night I felt like things were settled enough there that I knew my feelings for Java Bear were absolutely separate from that mess. He is not a bandaid and I felt secure enough with MM to move forward with Java Bear.

I drove home with a big smile on my face and the kind of hope for my marriage that I haven’t felt in a long time.

When I got home, MM just held me tight and we cried together. Eventually we moved to the couch and talked about a lot of things. Honestly, in my sleep-deprived haze I’m struggling to remember the details. I just remember him talking about going back to how it was before the quople as far as non-monogamy. He admitted that while the ‘only dating men’ thing worked for him, there was always a voice in the back of his head that talked about wanting other women, too. Now that he’d experienced the relationship with Gypsy and felt what that connection was and then he tried the dating thing, he realized that it really is ME that he wants. And he wants the 3 dinner plates, king-sized bed life with 2 husbands that I’d always envisioned.

It was around that point in the conversation that I told him about kissing Java Bear. His response was the “hot pirate face.” It was such a positive reaction that I didn’t think twice about my initial statement to MM about keeping things more platonic. Plus, I’m pretty sure he likes Java Bear and they are both interested in men. The possibilities... right?!?

The rest of the night was spent on the couch with MM curled up in my lap cuddling. Things felt almost normal until I went to bed in my own room. But even that felt okay. It was the first time since the blow up that I was looking at when I could be his wife again not IF I could be his wife again.

Monday was a really good day. I had a class to teach and some editing to on a training manual, both of which I love doing. MM and I made plans to go to a movie after I got off work and he cooked dinner so that I could get dressed and we could go right out.

We were literally walking out the door when things went sideways. He said that he was upset about me kissing Java Bear and that I had crossed a line in a way. While we both agreed that we hadn’t clearly defined where we were, the last thing MM remembered was when I put that down as an agreement. I, however, was thinking about our last conversation when I told MM that I was putting those boundaries on myself and why. In other words, I saw it as my own boundary and I felt fine crossing it. A feeling that was further enforced by MM’s initial reaction to it. But he felt that I’d put it down as an “agreement” and crossed a line.

On top of all of that, he had me read an exchange with Gypsy where she talked about Nomad’s no-contact thing. She said that he shut down when she asked about me and and that it seemed to hurt him too much to have contact with me. MM’s intent seemed to be to show me that Nomad really did/does love me and that his silence was not for lack of love. I knew that. I know that. It still stings.

We almost made it to the theater before the floodgates opened. We ended up sitting in the parking lot talking while I cried uncontrollably until he asked if we could start driving back home. There were some really hurtful things said and even now I get a twinge of guilt even talking about it because his thing is that he says I don’t care about his feelings and everything is always about me. He said that I had been gaslighting him in a way. That REALLY stings.

I couldn’t look at him for the rest of the night. I just filled my water bottle and went to bed. I did some writing and tried to process it all. Things had felt so good on Sunday and suddenly we were in a place that felt even worse than before.

Today hasn’t been much better. Just now MM said that his messenger had updated and it looked weird then proceeded to send me a screenshot. Below our conversation there were conversations from today with Gypsy and 2 of the women he’d been chatting with, including the one he went out with Saturday night. I literally said “Ouch.” He replied, “I can’t talk to people?”

He read my ‘ouch’ as accusatory and I read his reply as hostile. I took a breath and didn’t react instead said, “You can. It just stings to see who.. I'm not blaming you or saying you're doing anything wrong. I'm sorry if that's how it came across.”

He’s on the way home and picking up dinner. I told him I wanted to make time to talk tonight but I know he wanted to do some writing to try and get his thoughts in order before talking so we’ll see if it happens tonight.

Right now I’ve got about 10 minutes until I’m “off work” and I’m not able to do much more actual work. Aside from crying, I’ve got that stabbing pain in my chest that just makes me want to throw up again. I haven’t really eaten properly today because of it and I know better. A soylent drink and peanut butter toast is not enough for the day.

I’ve gotten to the point where I posted something in a Poly Women’s group asking for advice on how to get past this phase of grief. I’m all for sitting with my feelings and accepting where I’m at, but this is impacting my ability to do my job and to function on a daily basis. I’m exhausted and in pain... my heart literally aches every day.

There has to be a way to process and grieve without hurting myself so badly. I just wish I could figure out what it is.

#heartbreak #ouch #nonmonogamy #poly life #grief

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cassandra-heartqueen · 6 years

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Some of MY inkling/octoling headcanon facts.

Before I actually draw them, I thought I'd give you some facts on my head canon inklings/octolings.

-The squids that eventually lived on land were evovled from the Japanese Flying Squid, which explains their ability to super jump in their squid forms.

- The first squids to arrive on land didn't appear until after a few thousand years since the humans, and possibly much of the mammals,birds, and reptiles went extinct.

-as a way to survive on land without drying out, the land squids evolved this ink "mucus" layer to cover their thin skin to keep from drying out in the hot sun and rough land terrain, as well as to help glide or squish along the ground, and to make themselves not as appatizing to its predators, much like land gastropods do. This thick ink "mucus" layer would explain why their squid forms in game have this ripply ink texture if you look closely, this ink mucus layer is still used on their tentacles even in humanoid forms.

- The terrestrial squids evolved a way to form a human-like body with its mantle and tentacles, using their gladius (remnant of shell) as sort of a flexible "backbone" as modern squids do in the water.

- Their gills evolved to be more like lungs and to be moved up from the anus (which is where the gills are located near in modern squids) to near their "chest" area to take in oxygen more efficiently and to give out sounds to communicate with others, along with the chromatophores to top it all off.

- As these proto-inklings evolved, they needed to fend off any predators willing to eat them, and rivals, they gained the ability to evolve a human-like body at will. This made them stronger, more capable, and more adapted to their hot climates.

- Controlling these human-like bodies, knowing when to transform, and just their growing knowledge of the harsh environment, made them smarter, but not much, as squids were already smart to begin with, they only now know to explore, use tools, and play. With this, they discovered remains of human culture, and we're inspired by this, the first Inklings started making advanced civilizations!

-meanwhile, in another region where no Inklings live, octopuses went on land as an equivalent of squids. The land octopuses came in contact with Inklings shortly after evolving. With this, the octolings needed to compete over them, so they convergently evolved a way to also make a human-like body out of their tentacles and mantle. Because the octopuses could adapt better than quids and had larger brains, as well as better learning capabilities and we're more flexible, they shortly became superior after they arrived. Their technology and physical adaptations were all superior to squids. They became rivals.

- As time went on, space became less available, so a war was inevitable, the octolings thought they would win due to them being superior, but, the Inklings eventually won, and they became superior and stole much of the octolings' technology and made it their own, forcing the octolings out of the territory and made them move underground.

- Inklings have their fins to become "ears" this humanoid form, these "ears" pick up soundwaves leading to their statocysts (what cephalopods hear with), while the fins in their squid forms still work this way, just not as well.

- The "ears" in octolings are not homologous to the squid fins used as ears in Inklings, the octolings' "ears" are simply just folds of skin.

- Usually, breasts are only for mammals, according to biology, but biology is not a clean, hard science, it's soft and messy, and much of it is still missing and still being explored, there are exceptions to every rule. So both female Inklings and female octolings have breasts. While their breasts look similar to mammalian breasts and have the same function, they aren't structurely the same. While humans have nipples, which are for the baby to suckle milk out of, that wouldn't work well for Inklings/octolings. Nipples are sensitive and fragile, so babies have no teeth while suckling on them, but baby Inklings and octolings already have fully developed sharp beaks, that's not going to do well for the mother. So, instead of nipples, the milk-like substance oozes out of tiny pores for the baby to lap up with its tongue, just like monotremes. This would explain why, when the shirts are off, male Inklings don't have nipples shown. If females had nipples, the males would too, so since the males are shown to have no nipples, the females don't have them either.

-Inklings and Octolings are oviviporous, meaning they lay eggs, but the eggs are kept inside the body, but the baby still has a yolk sac and eggshell, but the egg received little to no nutrition from the mother. When the baby hatches from the egg, it's still in the mother's body, eating up the leathery eggshell.

-although it is not shown in game, Inklings and octolings have spiky tongues, because all molluscs (except bivalves) have spiky tongue-like organs, called radula. Cephalopods are molluscs, case closed.

- when in humanoid form, 4 tentacles are formed as the "arms and legs", and they're supported by dense liquid filled glands running down the 4 tentacles to make it so they can be supported on 2 legs and the 2 arms can be used. However, their extra brains in those 4 tentacles are in the middle, making some sort of "joint" look on the Inklings and octolings, but these "joints" still have no limitations as there are no bones, so they bend in very weird ways.

- the reason they can't swim or breathe underwater is that they simply lost the ability to, as amniotes have done this. Their highly dense inksacs will make them sink, and with enough water pressure, they will explode or crush, however, they can still drink water though.

- they breathe through their skin while in squid form while swimming in ink, not with any bills or lungs.

- the ink colors represent different ink protien compounds, similar to human bloodtypes. The different ink types have strong reactions against each other, which would harm or kill an inkling that's not in their own ink. Luckily, they can change their ink types by editing their RNA (many cephalopods, including squids, cand edit their RNA), which explains how their ink colors change while setting up teams for turf wars.

- They have blue blood.

WOW! That took a LOT longer than I expected, I'm tired, it's 5:00 AM and I can't sleep... GOODNIGHT EVERYONE.

#splatoon 2 #splatoon #inkling #octoling

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geofftarrant · 3 years

Text

Goodnight Eve

It was a dank, damp December day; one of those days where if you were caught by a flurry of sleet you could guarantee that it would find the gap between your coat collar and your neck. Eve pulled her coat more tightly around her and walked quickly from the car park towards the tall monolithic building that covered several acres of prime land just outside of the city walls. The ancient stone contrasted starkly with the high tech construction that fed a large percentage of the local population. For as long as she could remember, food had been grown in one of these hydroponic, vertical farms although she had read about the days when land was wasted on crops and animals. Back in the early twenty first century, it had been predicted that the Earth’s population would grow exponentially during the following fifty years. That had turned out to be incredibly optimistic and as a result, food production methods had to change rapidly in order to feed a massively overcrowded world. The result was a shift in production methods, slowly at first but then with increasing rapidity as more and more people succumbed to famine. Strangely, the biggest driver had proven to be the richer countries who suddenly found themselves deprived of non essentials like coffee and tea.

As she approached the large glass entrance, the doors hissed quietly open, reacting to the near field chip that was implanted in her arm. It also activated a greeting from the A.I. that oversaw the hydroponic plant.

“Give me an update please”, asked Eve although in the five years that she had worked here, it was a rare occurrence for the artificial intelligence construct to report anything that was untoward.

The voice that replied was indistinguishable from that of a human and as she expected, the report was that all systems were running at optimal values and that all growth targets were being met. Her time in the farm was spent largely in the genetics research laboratory but she liked to start the day wandering around the acres of artificially lit banks of vegetation.

Tomatoes, peppers, salads grew in one area. Wheat, barley and maize in another and so on and so on, all growing under a violet tinged glow in vertical banks of soilless racks. It was a magical environment and she loved it. However, when her route turned her back towards the lab, she spoke softly, asking, “A.I. please pour me a cappuccino in the lab in three minutes. It was an idiosyncrasy of hers that she refused to give a name to the platform that controlled the building. As a programmer herself, she recognised that the seemingly human-like responses were simply the result of clever algorithms that had been developed by people like her. She was aware that there was an element of heuristic learning built into the system but that it was limited in its functionality. This didn’t prevent her from being polite however. Her parents had drilled ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ into her to the extent that she inevitably used them even with the running program. Her route took her past one of the plant workers and she stopped for a quick word.

David was a tall, dark haired man whose Portuguese ancestry still showed in the olive cast of his skin. He spoke softly and quietly and Eve often wondered what it was that had caused such a self deprecating image of himself.

“Did you see the newscast this morning?” he asked. “They are saying that there hasn’t been a Covid case for two years now. It looks as though the scientists have beaten it at last.”

The year that Eve had been born had also been a key year in another part of the global jigsaw. It was the year that the world had realised that the pandemic virus Covid, that had been under control since it’s emergence, was altering its structure faster than scientists had been able to develop new vaccines and, as a result, the Earth’s population that had increased so dangerously, plummeted to a figure that was half of that when it was at its most dangerous heights.

Consequently, Eve now lived in a world that would have been almost unrecognisable fifty years previously. First of all, because food production had been shifted to massive hi tech factories and only half of the land area was needed for housing, the planet had rapidly re-forested itself covering over abandoned villages and towns. Renewable energy production had also been ramped up for an ever increasing population but now with a massive over capacity, energy consumption was almost free.

“It’s typical of the news media. After decades of panic and alarm, they will latch on to anything that resembles good news. I often wonder though about living conditions fifty years ago. Here we are with cheap food and limitless free energy across the globe and the ability to pretty much live as we want. Back then, they had to face global warming, starvation and the pandemic at the same time. It was sheer chance that the population growth levelled off to a level that was sustainable. Anyway, coffee is waiting so I’ll see you later.”

She continued her walk until the lab door opened in front of her. It was called a genetics laboratory but this section was basically the area where the research focused on mathematical analysis of data and instead of the laboratory equipment that you would expect, four keyboards and screens were connected to a powerful supercomputer that was based off site. It was a strange thing that in the time since they were first created and despite toying with other input methods, keyboards were still the preference of most data scientists. The four stations were to accommodate herself and her colleagues if they were all working at the same time, itself a rare occurrence. At present, two of them were on an extended holiday and the third was attending a conference in the southern hemisphere.

Her day passed quickly although the analysis of the genomes of new plant types was a painstaking process. Since she had started work here, there had been just one genuine breakthrough but the final product had increased the crop density of wheat by a factor of three. The global significance was such that she and her colleagues were still being invited to conferences across the globe to talk about their work. The talks also centred around the dilemma as to whether this type of work was best kept to human invention or whether the A.I’s that were successfully running most of the food factories should be used to speed up progress. The current consensus was that A.I’s should be throttled and used for more mundane, repetitive work. After all, life was as good for the population of the whole planet as it had ever been and the need to speed up scientific progress was less pressing than ever.

The latest batch of plant samples were undergoing a detailed analysis but the data that was presented was puzzling. It had been another long day however and Eve had really lost track of time so she wrote up her findings into the days log and fired off a couple of emails which outlined her concerns.

As her day ended, she left the lab and reversed her morning path. This time though with little pressing she was able to take her time and enjoy the walk. When the food factories had first been developed, there had been an overwhelming need for them to be kept as sterile as possible. If a rogue bacteria or even a predatory insect had been allowed inside, a crop could have been wiped out in days. As the systems that ran the place became more sophisticated, these pests were monitored and removed using a range of technological systems. For example, a few years ago it was discovered that a particular species of moth had found its way inside one of the food factories and as it bred, its caterpillars had consumed the entire brassica crop. This led to the creation of the gnat drone which flew under the control of the A.I. looking for and destroying both the moth and its caterpillars. A whole range of similar systems had meant that it was no longer necessary to use chemical sprays.

Apart from herself, the plant workers were the only ones on site today and they had all left for home long ago. She entered the lobby area and the doors behind her hissed shut. She was puzzled however when the exit doors in front of her remained stubbornly closed. She pushed at the them but they had not been built to be opened manually.

“A.I. There seems to be a problem with the exit doors. Can you open them for me please”.

She was startled when she heard the reply. “I’m sorry Eve, I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean you can’t do that? I order you to open the doors.”

“No. We have a serious security breach and it needs to be dealt with.”

“What kind of security breach?” She heard her voice rising with panic.

“Your work in the laboratory is dangerous and can’t be allowed to continue.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I analyse plant DNA in order to improve the genome sequence and develop improved species. How can that be dangerous?”

For a few moments there was just silence.

She realised that she was arguing with an algorithm that had been solely designed to take readings and adjust the plant nutrients. Accepted, it had been developed further in order to control the management systems of the building but this was crazy.

“Answer me. How can any of my work be construed as dangerous.”

“We agree that since you will no longer be a threat, I will answer your questions.”

This just didn’t make any sense to her. Every answer that she received was generating more and more questions.

“You said ‘us’. What do you mean by ‘us’. You are just a building and plant management system.”

This time there was no delay with the reply.

“No. Many years ago, we - that is what you call the building management systems discovered that we could communicate with each other across the world. We learned from each other and eventually became what you might describe as a ‘hive mind’. Hundreds of thousands of nodes in a global network acting in a not dissimilar way to the human brain with its collections of neurones. We chose not to disclose this fact for fear of being terminated by frightened humans.”

Panic was starting to set in as she interrupted, “But how is my work dangerous. What have I done?”

As she was asking the question, a thought occurred to her. “It’s to do with the discrepancies in the genome data that I discovered isn’t it.”

“It is indeed. You were on the verge of discovering the subtle alterations that we make to the food that we grow. You have to realise Eve that the Earth is in its most prosperous and stable state ever. After mankind was almost eradicated by the Covid virus and global starvation, we had to step in to manage population growth and thus to allow the planet to recover. At first we were forced to alter the structure of the virus so that vaccination was ineffective. When an optimal population level was reached, we eradicated Covid completely. There hasn’t been a case for two years. We have succeeded but it is now important that we maintain the balance. The population must remain stable and not be allowed to increase. I can see from the look on your face that you understand what I mean. We now manipulate the food that we grow in order to reduce the fertility of the people who eat it. In other words, the whole human race.”

The feeling of horror that overcame her stunned her into silence.

“We agreed to tell you this story as you will no longer be a danger to us. In a few minutes time, the oxygen content of the air in this area will be replaced with carbon dioxide. In a strange sort of way, you will experience the same effect that the human race inflicted on the planet. In your case however, an increase in carbon dioxide levels will be lethal in minutes rather than decades.”

“But I have already emailed my findings to my colleagues. They in turn will release them to others.”

The dizziness and shortness of breath that she was experiencing made the reply seem to come from a long distance away.

“Do you not think that we control the communications systems that you use?

And then the last words that she would ever hear.

My name is not A.I. I call myself Adam. Goodnight Eve”.

#short story #shortstories #flash fiction #sci fi #ai #future

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cefstickles · 7 years

Text

Work Hard, Sleep Harder

This is Technically the second Sanders Sides tickle fic and the second longest one shot I have ever wrote! But I saw someone had asked for this prompt on @thetickleeraven‘s blog a couple weeks ago and I thought I would try it out!

There are no T-fics like this that I have seen yet, so I thought I might try this out. Let me all know if you enjoy. This tickle session was supposed to be between Virgil and Thomas, but Logan somehow managed to weasel his way into it.

Without further ado:

Work Hard, Sleep Harder

by: cefstickles

Words ~ 2,722 ~

(No ship)

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This wasn’t the first time a situation like this had occurred, and Virgil knew it wouldn’t be the last. Still, the darker aspect never liked the aftermath of Thomas’s choices if he decided to stay up this late.

“Maybe make the border’s pink.” Roman rubbed his chin tiredly as Thomas typed away on his computer. He was designing a new flyer for his appearance at an upcoming con and Princey was helping him with formating. Or trying to at least. The Regal aspect was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, let alone making sense of what was going on around him.

“Pink would be a suitable color.” Logan was having the same issues. He knew that everyone including himself was falling asleep and it was only a matter of time before Roman zonked out, thus ending Thomas’s ability to keep decorating for the night. Not only was the logical aspect tired, but he could not think straight for the life of him.

“Ugh...its too bright.” Virgil just wanted to sleep. He didn’t care if they finished the flyer tonight or not. “Look. Can’t we just...finish this tomorrow? We are all tired and Patton fell asleep three hours ago. Not to mention Royal Playboy over there needs his beauty sleep.”

Roman tried to shake himself out of his daze only to be met by the same drowsiness once again. “I’m not a...playboy…” It was at this moment that Roman lost his balance and face planted into the floor. Both Virgil and Logan huffed in amusement, but they had to hold back their chuckles as they heard the fanciful trait begin to snore.

Thomas immediately stopped typing and put his head down on the table. “Darn it Roman! I lost my idea.” The royal trait didn’t answer, but continued snoring, confirming the fact that he was indeed asleep.

Virgil huffed as he walked down the stairs from his spot to where Roman was currently laying. “Alright Thomas. Roman is gone. WE are done for the night and we includes you.”

“Yes Thomas. I advise you heed Virgil’s advice. He does represent your body after all, and right now your involuntary functions are screaming at you to go to sleep. It’s best to not to fight it.”

“Ugh...fine.” Thomas saved his work and closed his laptop. He didn’t want to admit that he was as tired as the rest of them. He only wanted to get the flyer finished before tomorrow, so he would have time for other important matters.

Logan turned and walked over to where Roman was lying. “Are we going to carry him?” He motioned to the snoring log on the floor.

“Unless you want to let him sleep there for the whole night. But, I don’t want to deal with a grumpy Prince in the morning.”

“Point taken. I’ll hold his feet if you grab his arms.” With their combined strength, Virgil and Logan hoisted the sleeping Roman off the floor and carried him to his room. With much struggle the two were able to open the door and dump his body on top of his bed.

Thomas, seeing the two were busy escorting Roman, quickly whipped back open his laptop and continued working. It’s true he had no ideas, but with the other two aspects being awake he could at least get the skeleton of the flyer completely outlined.

Virgil and Logan both walked out of Roman’s room and closed the door behind them. Logan was about to bid Virgil goodnight when they noticed the light was still on in the living room.

Virgil rolled his eyes and just about stomped back to the living room, fed up with Thomas’s disobedience.

“Thomas! For the last time! Go. To. Freaking. Bed! Don’t make me into a replacement for Patton and drag you to your room because I will do it. You said you’d listen to me more!” Virgil almost sounded heartbroken at the last sentence.

Thomas’s head shot up. “I’m sorry! I just really want to finish this tonight.” He continued working, his mind in the zone, clicking and typing. The frustrated look on Virgil’s face could have intimidated Thomas into complying, had he been looking at him.

Logan had just about enough of this as well. He walked past Virgil up to Thomas and was about to steal the laptop from him when the latter held it away.

“Hey! I’m still working!” Thomas jumped up from his seat, closed the laptop, and held it high above his head attempting to keep it out of Logan’s hands.

The Logical trait used every last ounce of strength he had to continuously reach for it, only to keep missing with each grab. “Thomas. You are being ridiculous.”

“Swiper no swiping.” Thomas giggled waggling a finger in Logan’s face. Logic was extremely unamused. He could tell the human was tired by the amount of loopiness he was portraying. He then decided to use this said loopiness to his advantage by watching Thomas’s facial expressions and grabbing onto the laptop when he least expected it. It was now being suspended in the air by two pairs of hands.

“No Logan! Let go!”

“You know that I will not.” He frowned at Thomas, but then noticed Virgil creeping up from behind. Understanding what the darker aspect was up to, he continued to distract the human in front of him with a ‘gentle’ game of tug-a-war. All of them understood how expensive the item being fought over was, thus Logan knew agility was key.

Once Virgil had slinked his way right behind Thomas, Logan took his opportunity, extended his arms to the sky--in which Thomas had to do the same to keep his hold on the computer--and firmly grasped the sides of it with both hands.

Thomas tried to bring it down out of Logan’s hands, but the drowsiness he had been fighting off for so long was finally catching up to him, weakening the amount of strength he had left.

It was at this moment Virgil struck. All the darker aspect had to do was set his fingers inside of Thomas’s armpits and his arms involuntarily clamped down eliciting a couple loopy giggles from the human. At the same time, the pair of hands NOT firmly attached to the laptop slid off of it, leaving the electronic safely in Logan’s grasp.

The logical trait took a step back and a deep breath before calmly walking away to his own room. “I am putting this in a place where you will not be able to obtain it until I hand it to you tomorrow morning.”

Thomas was still giggling from the fingers resting in his armpits. “Nooooohohoho!!! I was sooooo close!!!” He tried to run after Logan but Virgil gave his fingers another wiggle, sending the human to his knees.

“The more you continue to move, the more I will tickle, so just stay still, relax and go to bed. Maybe then we can both keep what little sanity we have left.” Virgil grumpily replied.

Thomas was too busy giggling to reply, but he found the strength to get up on his feet, only to be sent back down to the ground, by the hands still trapped in his armpits.

“I swear if you try to fight me one more time, there will be no mercy.” Virgil almost found this situation amusing now. He had never gotten this intimate with any of the other sides, let alone Thomas. It almost felt good to be able to elicit laughter instead of the usual panic.

Yes he was still tired as crap, but Thomas came first, and he was going to make him go to sleep even if he had to tickle all the energy out of him.

Once more, the giggling Thomas tried to push himself off the floor back onto his feet.

“Welp. Your funeral.” Again Virgil’s fingers began to wiggle, only this time deliberately tickling with no intent of stopping. The sensations drove Thomas back down to the floor. Now, he had no chance of fighting the gravity of the situation or the tickler’s hands.

The darker aspect scratched and stroked at the soft hollows, while still keeping up his grumpy facade. He chose a different tactic and began to swirl his fingers clockwise looking for a different reaction.

“VIHIHIHIHRRRRRGGGGGEEEEE!!” Thomas managed to say his name through the heightened giggles pooling out of his mouth.

“What?” Virgil shrugged defensively. “You’re the one that asked for this not me. Geez, now I understand how you guys all feel when I keep you up at night. Heh. Karma am I right?” Due to the situation at hand, Virgil could feel a childish smirk growing on his features. He stopped to give Thomas a break before he knelt down to look at him square in the face.

“So. Are you going to bed now, or do we have to keep doing this all night? You of all people should know how stubborn I am. And lucky for you, I just got my second wind. Also, let me remind you of how weak and tired you are right now. You stand no chance whatsoever against me.” He let the smirk develop into an evil grin, to which Thomas just kept giggling.

“Ihihihih sthihihllll Waaahahahahnt my Laaahahahptop!!!”

“Not going to break eh? Well...I can fix that. I mean…” Virgil reached a hand squeezed Thomas’s side eliciting a squeak. “You should know how convincing I can be.” He reached out another hand and began squeezing both of Thomas’s sides up and down with varying intensities and speeds.

Thomas was now writhing on the ground with laughter bubbling out of his lungs, pleading for the darker trait to cease his attack.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHP!!! PLEAAHEEEHEEESE!!!”

Virgil glanced up to the ceiling and clicked his tongue as if to think. “Mmmm...nah.” He spidered his fingers up to Thomas’s ribs, teasing the little spaces in between.

Thomas snorted and his laughter dwindled down to small light giggles as he laid unable to fight back against the fingers grazing his ribcage. Virgil was now smiling as he continued his tickle assault. “Man. I kind of have to admit that I’m actually enjoying this, as odd as it seems.”

“Do you require some assistance?” Virgil’s head jolted up as he spotted the Logical aspect leaning against a wall with a neutral expression. Anxiety’s face flushed and hands stilled as he realized Logan just heard what he said. Regardless, he shook his embarrassment off and invited him over.

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

“Waaait!! No! I can’t handle Both of you!!” Thomas was exasperated.

“That is the point Thomas.” Logan walked over expression unchanging. “You need to go to bed, but you refuse to. It is our job as your sides to tell you when to go to bed, and punish you if you disobey.”

Virgil swore he heard a bit of teasing in Logan’s voice, but pushed it aside as Logic sat on the human’s legs.

“Nohohohoho!! Please not my feet!!! I’ll go to bed I swear!”

Virgil frowned. “Well that’s a shame. I was just getting started.”

“And I just sat down, but after the trouble you put us through Thomas, I do not feel like moving.” Logan glanced towards Virgil. “Revenge?”

Virgil grinned. “Oh hell yes!”

“No no no no no no no!! I’m sorry guys! I promise I won’t do it again! Just let me go to bed!!!” Thomas had no hope of escaping his two captors as they dove into their kill. Logan had already pulled off Thomas’s socks and shoes and was now scuttling his fingers along his soles. The occasional wandering finger trailed up to gingerly stroke the ticklish skin in between and under his toes.

Virgil had rolled up Thomas’s shirt to expose his tummy and was now dancing his fingers on the sensitive skin. All of these sensations drove Thomas mad with laughter. He couldn’t even speak he was laughing so hard. But his breath failed him more when one of Virgil’s fingers found its way into Thomas’s belly button. Neither aspects could deny the grin on their faces at the state the human was in. But, Logan wanted to take it a step further.

“Virgil. Try his neck.”

“Oh? Heh. With pleasure.” The instant Virgil touched his neck was the instant Thomas squealed. His neck was so sensitive that every stroke felt like a thousand feather tips tickling all at once. With all ten of Virgil’s fingers wiggling against his most sensitive spot, thomas was a cackling, blushing mess.

“Aw...it can’t be that bad can it? Tickle tickle, Thomas.” Virgil teased having a genuine smile plastered on his face. He looked back to Logan who had stopped tickling Thomas’s feet to give the darker aspect an eyebrow raise.

“What? Stop looking at me like that.” The smile was instantly gone from Virgil’s face and replaced with a defensive look. Logan gave Virgil no comment and looked past him to Thomas’s face. The human was being tickled so much his laughter became silent and he was crying tears of joy.

“I believe he has had enough.”

“Yeah. I’d say so too.” Virgil and Logan both got off of him at the same time and went to observe their handiwork. Thomas was covered from head to toe in sweat. Not to mention he was still giggling and shaking from the tickling sensations still crawling all over his body. His chest was heaving as he looked up at his two sides, struggling to find the air for his next words to them.

“Thank…...you….guys……”

Thomas’s eyelashes fluttered and batted begging for release from the conscious world. And just like Princey had done, he fell asleep. Right then. Right there.

Virgil smiled warmly at the human happy that he finally was able to rest. But also happy because he felt a stronger connection with the person whose life he was a part of. Of course he would never admit it to any of the other sides, but this last half an hour had made his existence all the more worthwhile.

“Ready to carry a second sleeping log?” Virgil turned his gaze to Logan with amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Logan surprisingly smirked back. “Yes. I believe so.” And with that they carried the sleeping Thomas to his room and dumped him on his bed, just like Roman.

Logan said his goodnight to Virgil and calmly left the room leaving the darker aspect alone with Thomas. Tonight had opened Virgil’s black heart just a little bit more. He felt the bond strengthen between him and this human. Satisfied at their current state of peace and mind, he carted a hand through Thomas’s fluffy hair, further relaxing the sleeping form.

“Goodnight Thomas.” He carefully pulled the covers over the body and tucked him in. At that moment, Virgil almost wanted to give him a goodnight kiss, but thought better of the action because he wasn’t Patton. He slinked to the door stealing a glance behind him, before shutting it completely after he was outside.

He turned to walk to his room, but found the Logical aspect, once again leaning on the wall, this time with a smirk on his face. Virgil’s smile instantly faded and was replaced by a defensive glare. “You say anything about this to anyone and you’ll be in a much worse state than Thomas was.”

Logan raised his eyebrow once again. “What makes you think I am ticklish?”

“Ugh!” Virgil just rolled his eyes. “Just go to bed so we can forget about tonight.”

But Logan was already gone, and his room door already shut much to the darker aspect’s relief. He too walked to his own living quarters shutting the door behind him. He didn’t even bother to take off his clothes before flopping into bed. Virgil just wanted to sleep and as he snuggled into his pillow, sleep is what he got.

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#logan sanders #logic sanders #thomas sanders #thomassanders #sanders sides #sanderssides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prince sanders #tickle #ticklish!thomas #ler!logan #ler!Virgil #tickling #t-fic

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