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february 2023
02 - A Slow Fire Burning by Paula Hawkins (2.5/5) ðð 05 - The Snow Killer by Ross Greenwood (3/5) ð§ð 07 - Playground: A Childhood Lost Inside the Playboy Mansion by Jennifer Saginor (3.5/5) ððð 12 - The Writing Retreat by Julia Bartz (2.5/5) ð
±ðð 12 - Taproot: A Story About a Gardener and a Ghost by Keezy Young (3/5) ð¯ïžððð 12 - Waves by Ingrid Chabbert (3.75/5) ð¯ïžðððð± 16 - Heartstopper, Vol. 1 by Alice Oseman (4/5) ð¯ïžððð 16 - Heartstopper, Vol. 2 by Alice Oseman (4/5) ð¯ïžðð 16 - Heartstopper, Vol. 3 by Alice Oseman (4/5) ð¯ïžðð 16 - Heartstopper, Vol. 4 by Alice Oseman (3/5) ð¯ïžðð 20 - Paris by Andi Watson (2/5) ð¯ïžððð 20 - Summer Fires by Giulia Sagramola (3/5) ð¯ïžððð± 22 - Eiger Dreams: Ventures Among Men and Mountains by Jon Krakauer (3.5/5) ð§ð 23 - Keeping Two by Jordan Crane (2/5) ð¯ïžðð 25 - We Are Okay by Nina LaCour (3/5) ðð 26 - The Rescue by Nicholas Sparks (2/5) ðð
#bb reads#bb reads 2023#ð
± = botm#ð§ = audiobook#ð¯ïž = graphic novel#ð = fiction#ð = nonfiction#ð = academic nonfiction#ð = lgtbq inclusive#ð = borrowed#ð¯ = 2023 tbr#âž = reread#ð± = translated
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Molly on ðð ð¿ðœ the ðð ð§ð¡ ðâ beat ð¥ ð ð€ Hump ðð me, âð« ð fuck ð me ð
ð ðð â Daddy ðœðª â¥ð ð better ð ð€ ðð€ make ð ð me ðŠ choke ð ðð ðð (you ðšð« better) ð
Hump ðð me, ð ð
fuck ðŒð ðŠ me ð» ð¶ð ðð· My ð ð
±ð
± tunnel ðð ðð ð loves â€ð ††to deep ðð throat â ð
ð (it ð¡ðŠ ðð¯ ðµðŠ do) ðŠð ð Lick, ðŠ ðŠ ðŠ lick, ðð
lick, ðŠð
ð lick ð ðŠð ðŠð
(I ð ð
ð lick ð€ð ð
ðŠ it) ð©ð© I ð€§ð« ð°ð
ðšð° want ðâ ð
ð to ð
± ðŠ eat ð
ð yo' ð¿ dick ð
ð (I âšð° ðð° do) ð But ð ð I ð€ð â can't ððŠ â fuck ð up ðŒð ð my ðð âðš ððŠ nails ð
ð
ð ð
(I ð ðð can't) ð«ð ð So ðð ðð» âð I'mma ð pick ðð€ ð€ it ð¯ð
up ð ðŠâ€ ðœð¯ with ð£ ð chopsticks ð ð ð Mouth ð· ð wide ð open, ð¯ð ðð ð¯ð mouth ð ð wide â¡ð â¡ ðð open ð¯ ð
Mouth ð ð
ð ðð wide ð» â¡ â¡â¡ open ð ð like ð ðŒ ð I ð ðð was ðð ðð at ð€£â ðð the ð ð dentist Mouth ðð ð·ð ð wide ð» ð» ð open, ðð¯ ðð mouth ðð ð
ðð wide ð»ð» ð ð» open ð ð Put ð â⬠it ð¡ð° so ð¯ð ð ð«ð¯ deep, ð¯ ð€ I ð¥ ððš can't ð â speak ð£ ð a ððž sentence Mouth wide ð»ð» ðð» ð»ð» open, ðð° mouth ðð ðð wide ðð â¡ open ðªð Mouth ð ðŠ ðð€€ wide â¡ ð»ð open ð ðð like ð â€ðŒ I ð° ðð was ð»ð¯ ð¥ at ðð ð€Žð ð the ð¡âª ð dentist Mouth ð wide â¡ð open, ðð
ðð° mouth ðð ð£ð ðð wide â¡ open ðª ð Put ð€ it ðð¯ so ðð ð€ ð deep ð¯ ð° ð©ð€ I ð° ðð± can't â ð¯ðŠ speak ð£ð¬ ð¬â a ðš ð©ð° sentence ð©ð€ ð©ð€ My ð¯ ð£ð fingers ð
ð» in ðð â ð it, ð¯ gentle Explore this ðð ð nword ðð° mental â I'mma â¹ ðµð€ write ðâ ð ð my ð§ðª ð ð¯ name ð€ð€ on ðð
± his ðŠð¬ dick ð© ð (his ðŠ ðŠð¹ ðŠ dick) ðŠð ðªð Don't ð¡ ð¡ð
need ð ðð a ð° ðð pen ð§ ð§ or ð¯ a ￜￜ⡠â ð°ð pencil (no âð
I ð€¡ ð ðš don't) ð¡ð« ð All ð ðð I ð°ð ð need ðð is ð ðð my ð¿ ð body ð â ðªð My ðšð pussy ðŠð ð± pink ð ðð ð just ðâ like ðð ð†salami Don't ð ðð need ð â
ð no ð« ð°ð« drink ð
ð± ðº to ð¬ get ðð ððŸ naughty ð
'Cause ðð ð bitch ðð ð«â ð¶ I'm ðð° ð not âð
Bill ð ð ðð Cosby My ð®ðš ð€ð® ðð pussy ð±ð¹ mean, ð®ð± ðŸ and ð â it's ðµâ clean ðð ðð I'm ðð ðð âš not ð â ð«ð
a ðð© ð squirter, ðŠ ðŠ I ðð ðð cream ð ðš Keep ð ð it ð
± ðð smelling like ð»ð baby ð»ð¶ ð¶ wipes I â¹ð» never ð« ð« smell ðš like ðâ ðð sardines (eew) This â¬ð ðŒð will ððŒ never â ð«ð« ð
fucking ð ðð ðð¡ end ðð Ballerina that ðð ðð ðð€ dick ð ð ðª when ðð â±â° â° I â ððŒ spin ð ðœ I â
ð² ðð
° fucked ððŠ ðð this ð ð ð nword ð¿ð¿ ð¿ðš so â ðð good ðð ð I ðð ðð
° ð©ðš ain't swallow one ð¬ â ð€â¿ kid, ð I ðð ðšð€ think ð ð ð€ð¡ I ð¥ swallowed twins Hump ðð ðð ðð me, ðð€ ð¿ð« fuck ðâ me ð ð ðœ Daddy ðŠ ð±ðª better ðŠð ð
ð€¡ make ð ðšâ me ð£ ð ðŠð choke ðð (you ð better) ⬠ð¬â ð© Hump ð ðð me, ð ð€ fuck ðð ðŠð ð me My ðŠâ ðŸð tunnel ðð loves â€â€ ðð to ðšð£ â deep ð© ð©ð€ ð¯ð throat ððŠ ð©ðŠ ðð (it ð£ðŠ ð³ do) ð€â Lick, ð
lick, ð€ lick, ð
lick ðð ð
ð (I ð ð lick ð
ð€ð ð
ð it) âð¯ I ð° want ð ðŠ to âðŠ ðŠ eat ð ð
ð® yo' ð€ dick ðð¿ ð ð»ð (I ðð ð do) ð¯ ð§ð€ But ð ðâ I ð ð can't ðð ð«ð« fuck ð
up ð â° my ð§ð nails ð ðð (I ð ð can't) ð«ð« So ð¯ð ðð ðœð¯ I'mma ðŒð ð pick ð€ð â â it ð ð up ðð ð
ðº ðŒâ¬ with ð ð» chopsticks ð ð Mouth ðð ðð· ð·ð wide ð» ð ðð open, ðð mouth ð ðð· ð wide â¡ â¡ open ðð Mouth ð ðð wide ðð â¡ open like ð I ðšð ð ðð was ð° at ð ð¯ the ðð ð§ð dentist Mouth ð· ðð ðŠð wide ð» ð»ð open, ðð ðð ðð mouth ð· wide ð»ð ð»ð» â¡ open ðð ð°ð ðð Put ðð ð» it âð¿ so ð°ð âð€ deep, ðð ððŠ I ð ð can't ð«ð« ð« speak ð¶ ð£ a ð ðð sentence ð€ð€ ð¥ ð€ð€ Mouth ð wide â¡ð open, ð¯ð ð mouth ðð ð wide ð ð» ð open ðð
± ð Mouth ð ðð wide ð ð open ð like â†ððŠ I ð¯ð ð° was ðð€£ at ð°ð ð the ð ð dentist Mouth ð
ð ðð wide â¡â¡ â¡ â¡ open, ð ðð° ð
± mouth ð ðð wide â¡ open ð ðð¯ Put ð it ðð so ð« ð¯ð ð¯ð deep ð© ðð¯ I ⬠ð can't ð«ð
± ð« speak ð¥ ð£ a ð
± ð± sentence ð€ ð€ð€ Just ð€ð ð© come ðŠ ðŠðŠ put ð»ð€ ð¿ð« ðŸ it âš down ðŠ ð my ðð ð butt ðð© âºð¥ (my ð ðš ðâ butt) ðð ðð¥ ð©âº Let's ð¢ð â â shoot ðŠð a ð
° ð movie, ð ð€ no ð€ð â ð cuts ðªðª ðª Ride the ð¢ ðš dick, get ð±â ðð my ðð nipples ð ððŠ licked That's ð breastfeeding while ð¶ ðâ ð¯ we ðŽ ðŒ fuck ð«ð Finna ð¿ð¿ ââ get ð ð ð the ðŒ ð ð dick ð ððŠ wet ðŠ ðŠðŠ and ðð ðð ðð firm You ðŠð» ð¶ð ðð better ð
⥠ð¬ âš sweat ð°ð« ð«ð° ð« me ð out ð
of ðð my ð ð» perm ðšðš Can't ð ð¡ð« ð«ð« wait ð till ð ðð» it's ð
± ð ð¡ ðð my ðð ð turn I âð wanna ð¿ð blow ð¬ ð¬ bubbles ðµðµ ðµðµ ðµðµ with ðð sperm ðŠ ðŠðŠ Wanna hit ðŒð ð ðµ it â ð from ð® ð£ the ð¥ð ð back, ð let ðŸ ð ðâ me â ðð ð€ð arch my ðð ðð« ðâ back ðšð€ ðð Once âð³ âð¥ I ðšð arch my ðð back â¬
ðµ ð» That ð ð mean ðŸ âð attack ð€Œâ this ð⌠â ð€ pussy ð±ð Don't ð ð«ð« need ð±ð ð ðð
a ð¥ð ð°ð° â° pornstar, 'cause ðð
...no.
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Stroke Drip Edge ðâ Stare ð²ð² Drip Drip Edge Drool Stroke Drip Ah ðð Ah ð± Drip Stare Drip I ð° would not ð
ð
last â³ð° a ð¯ð
± second â±ð
± Drool ð€€ð€€ Stroke Leak ððŠ Drool ð€€ Stroke Edge ð Stroke Uuugh Deny Leak Stroke ð Drool ð€€ð€€ Stare ðð² Leak Drip Deny Stare ð² Ooooooooo Drip Stare ð²ð² Drip Stroke ð Drool ð€€ Oh ð¯ð² Stroke â Deny Goddess ð I ðšð would explode ð¥ð¥ the ð
±ð° moment ð€ I ðµð put â it ðŒð in ððº Deny Ooooooooh Edge Stare ðð² Edge ðª Drool ð€€ Edge ð¡ Stare ðð² Edge Leak ððŠ Stare ð²ð² Drip Auugh Leak Drool Stroke ðð Edge Stroke Stroke â Ah Drool ð€€ Deny Deny Deny Drip Ooooooooh Drip Stroke Uuugh Drip Leak ðŠð Drool ð€€ Drip Stare ð² Stroke ð Edge I ð° would not ð«ð« last â¿â¿ a ð second Drool ð€€ I ðŒð cannot help ððœ myself ð± Drip Leak ðŠðŠ Edge Drool ð€€ð€€ Drool Edge Stare ðð² Drool ð€€ Stare ð² Ahhhhhhh ð©ð© Stroke Deny Stare Drip Uuugh Leak ðŠ Drool ð€€ Drip Ooooooooo Stroke ðð Drip Stroke Edge ðª Stroke ð€ð Leak ð Deny Stare ð² Edge ðª Drool ð€€ Drip Leak ðŠð Stroke Edge Stroke ð€ð Leak ðŠðŠ Drool Drip Edge âð Ahhhhhhh ð© Stare ð²ð² Stroke Oh ðŠ Stroke Goddess ðð I would explode ð¥ the ð moment I ðð put ðð« it ðŠ in ð Leak ð Stroke Stare Stroke ð Edge ð Deny Stroke Deny Leak Stare ð Deny I ð cannot â help myself ðð I ðð¡ would ðð not ð
last â¿â¿ a ðð second âð
Ÿ Stroke â Edge Drip Leak ðŠðŠ Stare ð²ï¿œï¿œ Edge Edge Leak Stare Drool ð€€ Leak Ah ￜￜ Leak ðŠ Deny Stroke Goddess ðŒð I ðð° would ð¹ explode ð¥ð¥ the ðð moment ð³â³ I put âºð it ð€ in Goddess I would explode ð¥ð¥ the ððŠ moment ð³ I ðð put ððŸ it ðâ in Ah Oh ðð Ooooooooo Stroke ð Leak ðð Stare ð²ð Deny Oh ð© Edge Stare Stare Stare ðð² Auugh Uuugh Edge ððª Leak ð Drip Drip Drip Deny Edge â Drip Ooooooooh Drool Stroke ð Stare Stroke Stroke Drip Leak Drip I cannot ðð help ðð myself Stare ð²ð² Stroke ð Deny Leak Edge âð Deny Deny Stare ð²ð² Stroke ðð€ Leak Stroke â Auugh Ooooooooo Edge â Edge ðª Deny Leak Drool ð€€ð€€ Drool ð€€ Drip Drool ð€€ð€€ Edge Auugh Ah Drip Stroke Drip Leak Deny Leak Auugh Stare Leak ð Drip Leak ðŠðŠ Auugh Leak ðŠðŠ Edge ð¡â I would ð²ðŠ not â last a second ð Stare Deny Ahhhhhhh Leak ððŠ Drool ð€€ð€€ Drip Drool Leak ðð Ooooooooo Drool Stare ð²ð Stare ð Oh ðð Oh Stroke Stare Leak Drip Ooooooooo Drool ð€€ Stare ð²ð Drool Stroke Stroke ðð Stroke ðð Drip Ahhhhhhhj Stare ð Edge Stroke Drool ð€€ Edge ðªð Stroke ðð Auugh I would ðð not ð«ð
last a ð
°ð second Drool ð€€ Edge Stroke Drool ð€€ Leak ðŠ Ah Stare ðð² Deny Drool ð€€ð€€ Oh Stare ðð² Drool Ooooooooh Drip Stare ð Goddess I would ðµð explode ð¥ð¥ the moment I put it ð in ð Drip Deny Ahhhhhhh ð± Drool Stare ðð² Ahhhhhhh ð© Ahhhhhhh ð© Ah Drool ð€€ Leak ððŠ Stare Stroke ð€ð Leak ðŠðŠ Drip Stroke ðâ Edge â Deny Ooooooooh Stroke ðð Stroke Deny Stroke ð Drip Stare ðð Stare Stroke ð Ooooooooo Stroke ð Leak ðŠ Stare ð²ð² Goddess ðŒ I would ðð explode ð¥ the moment â³ð€ I put it ð§ in ðð I ð¯ðš would not last â¿ a ð¯ð second Leak ððŠ Edge âð¡ Drool Uuugh Auugh Stare ð²ð Leak ðŠ Stare ðð Ooooooooh Leak ðŠ Ooooooooo Deny Stare ð² Edge ð¡ Drip Stare Deny Stare Ah ð±ð Edge Leak Stroke ð€ð Ooooooooo Edge ð Edge ððª Stroke ðð Edge Stroke ðð Leak ðŠ Deny Drool Deny Leak Stroke ðð€ I cannot ðâ help ðœ myself ð± Edge ðªð Drool ð€€ð€€ Ooooooooh Deny Drool ð€€ð€€ Uuugh Stare Drip Drool ð€€ð€€ Deny Oh Drool ð€€ð€€ Stroke ð€ Stroke Stroke Drip Uuugh Stare ð² Stroke Edge ð¡ Leak ðŠ Edge ðâ Stroke ðð Ahhhhhhh ð©ð© Edge ðª Drool ð€€ Oh ððŠ Auugh Drip Stroke ð Drool ð€€ Edge ð¡ðª Deny Deny Ooooooooh Stroke Stare Stroke Leak ðŠð I ððª cannot help ð myself ð« Leak Leak ð Ooooooooh Stroke ââ Uuugh Uuugh Stroke ð Drool Ahhhhhhh ð±ð© I cannot help ðð myself ð«ð© Stroke
This is a new one.
My apologies if there's anything offensive in this, my dyslexia make it tough to read it.
Coherent writing is enough of a challenge sometimes
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FUCK ð€ YOU ð BALTIMORE! if ð€¥ you're ð§ð dumb ð€€ enough ð€ to buy ð³ a ð£ð
° new ð car ð³ this ð weekend, you're ð a big ð± enough schmuck to ðð
come ðŠðŠ to ðŠ Big Bill Hell's ð¡ð Cars. â Bad ð€Š Deals! Cars that ðð» break ðšðš down! ð Thieves! If you ðŽð think ðð€ you can ð« find ð a ðð bargain at ð Big ð Bill's, you ð¬ð can kiss ðð my ðð ass! It's our ð
± belief that you're ðð§ such ð©ð¢ a â stupid ð«ð« motherfucker, ⌠that you'll ð¯ð fall â for this ð bullshit ð®ð® GUARANTIED! If ð you ð find ð a â³ better deal, shove ðŠ it ðŠ up ðº your ðŠ ugly ass! ð you ð»ð heard us right, SHOVE IT ðŠ UP ð†YOUR ð UGLY ð€¢ ASS! ðð Bring â¬
â¡ your ðð tray, ð bring your ð
± title, ð€ bring â¬
â¡ your wife, ð°ðŒ WE'LL ð¥ð° FUCK HER. ð
That's ð¶ð right, ð we'll fuck ðð
± your ð wife! ð© Because ðð at ð Big ð±ð© Bill ðð Hell's, ð¥ð¹ you're ð fucked six ways ð¯ð€ from ð® sunday. âð Take a ð¿ð hike, to ð
Big ð Bill Hell's: ð
±ð
± home of CHALLENGE PISSING - that's ð right - CHALLENGE ð PISSING. How ð£ does it ð«ð work? ðš If you can ð«âº piss six feet ð£ð£ into the â air âð¬ straight ð up, and ð not get ð wet, ðð you ðð get ð no down ⬠payment! Don't ð«ð¡ wait! Don't ð
delay! DON'T ð
FUCK ð WITH ð£ US, ðâ or ð we'll rip ð your ðŸ nuts off. Only ððŠ at ð†Big ð©ð Bill Hell's: ð¥ð¹ the only dealer that ðð tells ð£ you ð¶ to ð©ð FUCK ðð» OFF! HURRY ðâ³ UP ððº ASSHOLE! ð© This â event ðð ends âð€· the minute â° after ð¡ you ðŽð write ðâ us ð© a ðð check, ðž and it better ððš not ðð bounce, or ð«ðš you're a dead ðµ motherfucker. ð¡ð¡ GO ð TO ðð HELL! ðð Big ðº Bill ð Hell's cars. â â From the ð most filthy ð·ð· and ð
± exclusive the ð meanest sons-of-bitches ðŠ in the ð§ state ððŠ of ðŠð¥ Maryland - GUARANTIED!
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Anons Master List
Here is a list of all the Anons! This will update as time goes on and more lovely Anons are added~!
Note: If you do not see your name here please let me know!
Emojis Taken
Blue Heart ð
Purple Heart ð
Black Heart ð€
Orange Heart ð§¡
Green Heart ð
Alien ðŸ
Movie ð
Rain â
Star ð«
Puppy ð¶
Retro ðŒ
Pisces â
Artist ðš
Skull ð
Ghost ð»
Panda ðŒ
Moon ð
Rainbow ð
Sushi ð£
Ice Cream ￜￜ
Banana ð
Mermaid ð§â
Dolphin ð¬
Diamond ð·ïž
Book ð
Clover ð
Ink Pen ð
Knife ðª
Snake ð
Ramen ð
Cheshire ð
Chick ð¥
Sunflower ð»
Mushroom ð
Leaf ð
Sheep ð
Clown ð€¡
Nepeta â
Bow ð
Sapling ð±
Pumpkin ð
Bee ð
Writing ð
Shield ð¡ïž
Cactus ðµ
Abro ð
Clubs â£
Candy ð¬
Anon ð€
Aquarius â
Bamboo ð
Eagle ðŠ
Rose ð¹
Lightbulb ð¡
Turtle ð¢
Watermelon ð
Spider ð·
Rabbit ð
Cheetah ð
Sunglasses ð¶ïž
Shooting Star ð
Cloudy â
Autumn ð
Coffee â
Thunder âïž
Dusk ð
Bell ð
Carousel ð
Question â
Earth ð
Horse ðŽ
Tiger ð¯
Rat ð
Taurus â
Mouse ð
Black Star âŽ
Paw ðŸ
Love Hotel ð©
Laptop ð»
Oceanon ð³
Aries â
âšSparkleâš
Hat ð©
Koala ðš
Scorpio âïž
Chocolate ð«
Unicorn Trash ððŠ
Fairy ð§ââïž
Kiwi ð¥
Crocodile ð
Pizza ð
Cash Skelly ðµððµ
Ship ð¢
Dragon Heart ðð
Bone Snake ðŠŽð
Joker Card ð
Deer ðŠ
Burple ð
±ð
Coconut ð¥¥
Broken Demon ðð¹
Snail ð
Blossom ðµ
Crown ð
New Moon ð
Cowboy ð€
Butterfly ðŠ
Snowflake â
Crystal Ball ð®
Lemon ð
Cheese ð§
Tree ð³
Wine ð·
Dance ðºð»
Dino ðŠ
Spoon ð¥
Idea â¡ð¡
Peacock ðŠ
Sakura ðž
Pufferfish ð¡
Egg ð¥
Smiling Hearts ð¥°
Eggplant ð
Mail ð§
Capricorn â
Fleur â
@ Mail ð§
Wise Monkeys ððð
Cherry ð
Tennis ðŸ
Smiley â»
Phone ð
Lock & Key ð
Cancer â
Moon Jester ð€¡ð
Dice ð²
Bug ðð
Waffle ð§
Monke ð
Strawberry ð
Phish Cake ðŠð¥
Rainy â
Milk ð¥
Peanut ð¥
Sleepy ð€
Honey ð¯
Exotic Butters ðð
Milk ð¥
Chocolate Milk ð«ð¥
Party ð
Baphomet ð
Juicebox ð§
Checker ð
Stem ð±
Chair Egg ðªð¥
Peacock ðŠ
Magician â ïžâ ïžâ ïž
Bin ð
Sleepy Candle ð€ð¯
Mouse Moon ðð
Blood ð©ž
Sunrise ð
Aubergine ð
Mint ð¿
Wereanon ðº
Hikkomo ðžðª
Butter Bee ð§ð
Dutch ðšð·
Dream ðŽð
Moon Bug ððŠ
Ghost Bee ð»ð
SquidðŠ
Skull Ring ðð
=)
Indonesia ð²ðš
Hibiscus ðº
Onion ð§
Red Heart Panda â€ðŒ
Cool ð
:[
Carrot ð¥
Owl ðŠ
Telephone â
Honeydew Melon ð
Music Note ðŒðµ
No Emojis
Greek Myth
Red Panda
Toast
Raboot
Supportive
Z
Pineapple
Cookie
Angst
Tofu
Coze
And
Plaid & Boxers
K
C
L
Anxiety
Feather
Kuma
Porcelain
Denver
Pan
Baka
Despair
Void
North
Rhinestone
Vaguely Threatening
Satyr
Enon
Lesbian
Genderfluid
Sweet
Distortion
Heartlocket
Turron
Sun Jester
Warlock
Math
Molten
Clown
Half Corrupt
Fire
Angel
Coke
Spacerabbit
Steampunk
Full Moon
Mask
Boba Tea
Galaxy
Chansword
Noodles
Basil
X
Werewolf
Hidden
Conspiracy
Animal
ENA
Family Member
Kneecaps
Skittles
Starecrown Stan
Yellow
Salt
Glitch Phone
Dimwit
List
Ace
Flower
Half Ghost
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B's Goretober Prompts
31/ Pastel gore/ writer's choice
Pinkish blood leaked from his nose and mouth, tasting like candy. He stumbled up the stairs, the world around him spinning like a top. Mads clutched a hand to his mouth, coughing and giggling as light pink blood began to drip, drip, drip down his throat. The streaks of pink spurted out. between his finger soaking the light green fungus on his neck that rose and fell with his excited breaths. Spitting pink, candy flavored blood out onto the floor, he stumbled up the stairs.
Stopping in the hall, he gazed into the mirror, at the cotton-candy blue streaks covering his face and clavicles, the green growth heaving and shuttering as it spouted yellow dust that settled on his shoulders like fresh snow, like dandelion pollen.
He pressed a bloodied hand against the mirror. He was so beautiful.
The mishmash of color stood out sharply against his pale skin. He was a walking canvas. He scratched his neck, more of the bright yellow dust puffing out. Pink blood dribbled like water as his mouth curled into a smile. His eyes had been tinged with the green on his neck. Perfect.
Bim and Mare would think he's beautiful. They wouldn't be lying, wouldn't be trying to make him feel better, they would think he's beautiful. Oh, so beautiful.
He discarded his lab coat and tore his shirt in half, exposing more blue strikes and light green fungus.
They would finally think he was beautiful.
Turning on his heel, he stumbled as if drunk through the halls, looking for his lovers.
He was finally perfect, finally worthy of them.
The world around him seemed to shift and swirl, as if he was looking at it through a soap bubble. He giggled at the imagery, getting a little bit of candy flavored blood on the carpet as he stumbled along. Blood started to pour from where his false leg met his real one, and the yellow dust was beginning to turn to clouds around him. Coughing up even more blood, he stumbled forward.
Their hearts would stop when they saw how beautiful he was, how perfect his experiments had made him.
Finally.
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I ð¥ spent ðµ like ð two ð? Three 3ïžâ£? Entire ð¬ weeks ð with this sitting ðº in my askbox and I ð just. I ð¥ got ð nothing ð«. What could I ð¥ possibly ð€ answer ð€€? I ð¥ tried ð®ð¹ all ð¯ the ânopeâ gifs ðŠ in this god ðŒð forsaken ð© website ð¥, I ð tried ð to draw ðšâ what my face ðð looks ð like ðð€ð every â time â° I ð read ðð this, I ð tried ð to find ð fanart ðð«ð of jar ð¯ jar ð¥ with his ðŠ wang ð out and the universe ð± was kind ð enough ðŠ to me so that I ð couldnât find ð any. I ð got ðž nothing ð
ð«. Nada ð . Abso-fucking-lutely nothing â. What am I ð gonna ð say ð£? What in godâs name ð· am I ð gonna ð¥ say ð¬ to that?!
You ð see ð, I ð wanna ð¡ð fuck ðð general ð grievous. I ð do. I ð¥ want ð him ðŽ use ð» all ð¯ his ðŠ four 4ïžâ£ arms ðª to simultaneously ð pull ð both my arms ðª back ð and touch ð my tits ð as he ðš fucks ðð me with his ð mecha-schlong. I ð do. I ð wanna ð fuck ððŠð darth ð Maul, pre-legs cut âð off ðŽ or post ð© metal ð€ð€ legs+metal dick ð enhancement â
. I ð¥ wanna ð lick ð
those horns ð. Okay ð? I ð wanna ð fuck ðð darth ð¿ðŽ vader ð¥µð. Boy ð¶, oh ð, boy ð¶ð, I ð¥ do. I ð wanna ð hear ð that hard ð breathing ð¬ and wrap ð¯ my legs ð over ð³ððŠ that dramatic ð cape ð€ð§ while he ðš force-chokes me and we do the do. Am I ð¥ a weird ð robot-fucker? You ðð±ð¡ bet ð your ð ass ððð I ð¥ am! Am I ð a tad ðŠ too much ð¥ on ð the horny ð side ðð? Probably ð». Did I ð extrapolate my right ð to be horny ð©ð on ð main ð¿? Fucking ðð sue ðŽ me. But ð this. THIS.
How do you ððš want ð me to face ð§ my family ðšâð©âð§âðŠ and all ð¯ the three 3ïžâ£ (3 ââ¹ð) friends ð«ð¬ð I ð have irl ðš? How do you ð want ð me to walk ð¶ into an elevator ð with a bunch ðŒ of strangers ðµ and when â° an old ðŽð» lady ð© says ð¬ âthe weather ð¡ has been a little ð hot ð¥ lately ð€, isnât it weird?â just to do small ð⬠talk ð¬ like ðŠð every âð
± fucking ððŠ old ðŽ people ð«ð I ð donât know ð€ do, how do you ð expect ð€ me not to answer ð€€ her ð© with âyâknow whatâs weirder ð€, someone ð€ at this very ð moment ðð³ð€ is thinking ð€ about ðŠ Jar ððº Jar ð¥ Binks ð
going âð balls-deep in them and I ð¥ cannot ð« talk ð¬ about ð€ this to anyone ð and the knowledge ðð€ð€ of this? itâs eating ð
me alive â. ALIVE â, maâam, and I ð donât mean ðð
this as some sick ð€¢ð³ð§ vore ð¥ reference ððð. Someoneâs dreaming ð of those popped-up eyes ð, of that weird ð€ªð€ high-pitched voice ð£ screaming ð± MEESA COMING ðŠ while theyâre filled ðŠ up ⬠by Jar ððº Jar ððº Binkâs thick ð seed ð±ð, and Iâm just standing ð¹ here while this very ðŒðð¥ notion ð¡ð€ rots ðŽ me to the core ð, taking ð« all ð¯ life ð€ away ð from me. Itâs a nightmare ð±. My entire ð¬ life ð€, a nightmare ð±, because of an anon ð² message â from a horny ð jar ðº jar ððº fucker ððð
° on ð tumblr ðŒ. This is my floor ð now, maâam, have a good âð€©ð dayâ
I ð leave ðºð³ð the elevator ð. I ð probably ð» have an appointment ðð©ââïž, but ð I ð canât remember ð€ where, or what for. I ð sit ðœ down ⬠on ð the floor ð by the elevator ð doors ðª. I ð sob ð for a full ð minute ð². I ð take ð
the elevator ð back ð downstairs ð, I ð walk ð¶ð» home ð¡ðŒ, I ð collapse ð in bed ð and rub ðð« one ð€ out thinking ð€ of darth ð vader ð€. I ð feel ð better ð.
Five 5ïžâ£ minutes â± later ð, I ð¥ think ð about ð€ð this ask ð again âð¬, and my whole ðŠð world ðððº collapses ð¥ð¿ð again âð¬. Itâs only Tuesday ð«. I ð sigh ð¬ð€ heavily ðð¡ and sit ðº down ð» to write â this reply ð.
Edit ð: a lot ð of this is exaggeration ð³ð©. Some of it is true ð¯. You ð get ð to pick â what exactly ððð.
I bet Jar Jar is fucking hung like a whale. God he can raw me anyday.
I spent like two? Three? Entire weeks with this sitting in my askbox and I just. I got nothing. What could I possibly answer? I tried all the ânopeâ gifs in this god forsaken website, I tried to draw what my face looks like every time I read this, I tried to find fanart of jar jar with his wang out and the universe was kind enough to me so that I couldnât find any. I got nothing. Nada. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. What am I gonna say? What in godâs name am I gonna say to that?!
You see, I wanna fuck general grievous. I do. I want him use all his four arms to simultaneously pull both my arms back and touch my tits as he fucks me with his mecha-schlong. I do. I wanna fuck darth Maul, pre-legs cut off or post metal legs+metal dick enhancement. I wanna lick those horns. Okay? I wanna fuck darth vader. Boy, oh, boy, I do. I wanna hear that hard breathing and wrap my legs over that dramatic cape while he force-chokes me and we do the do. Am I a weird robot-fucker? You bet your ass I am! Am I a tad too much on the horny side? Probably. Did I extrapolate my right to be horny on main? Fucking sue me. But this. THIS.
How do you want me to face my family and all the three (3) friends I have irl? How do you want me to walk into an elevator with a bunch of strangers and when an old lady says âthe weather has been a little hot lately, isnât it weird?â just to do small talk like every fucking old people I donât know do, how do you expect me not to answer her with âyâknow whatâs weirder, someone at this very moment is thinking about Jar Jar Binks going balls-deep in them and I cannot talk about this to anyone and the knowledge of this? itâs eating me alive. ALIVE, maâam, and I donât mean this as some sick vore reference. Someoneâs dreaming of those popped-up eyes, of that weird high-pitched voice screaming MEESA COMING while theyâre filled up by Jar Jar Binkâs thick seed, and Iâm just standing here while this very notion rots me to the core, taking all life away from me. Itâs a nightmare. My entire life, a nightmare, because of an anon message from a horny jar jar fucker on tumblr. This is my floor now, maâam, have a good dayâ
I leave the elevator. I probably have an appointment, but I canât remember where, or what for. I sit down on the floor by the elevator doors. I sob for a full minute. I take the elevator back downstairs, I walk home, I collapse in bed and rub one out thinking of darth vader. I feel better.
Five minutes later, I think about this ask again, and my whole world collapses again. Itâs only Tuesday. I sigh heavily and sit down to write this reply.-
Edit: a lot of this is exaggeration. Some of it is true. You get to pick what exactly.
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SCP au - A Mix
In which ð
± continues to write more for this au than me.
A brief report on the disappearance of SCP-3007 By: Dr. Amy Nelson
SCP-3007, a shapeshifting black smog-like gas, escaped the foundation four years ago today. The entity was ranked Keter, due to its hypnotic song and nightmare inducing tendencies. It didn't seem to need to rest or consume anything to keep its form or abilities. It seemed to be able to take any shape, transforming into many animals and even myself.
Its song, however, was the main topic of interest. It was able to coax even the strongest willed to do anything- whether it was to stop breathing or to snap their own neck.
D-[REDACTED] was told to do a variety of things, some sexual in nature, others brutal, humiliating and violent. SCP-3007 seemed to be a sadist, but was surprisingly cooperative to tests, politely thanking the doctors for their time. I remember he once gave me a manâs left arm as a token. Needless to say, young me vomited at the offer.
The entity itself emitted a purple mist, no matter what form it was in. The mist seemed to be nightmare inducing, and a concentrated sample given to D-[REDACTED] caused them to experience hallucinations and have a fatal seizure. Prolonged exposure to a diluted dose will do the same.
Despite these abilities, it was in containment for at least five years before I started working here, and one after I started my job. However, one day, it just vanished. There was no trace left of the entity, and the guards on duty (Daryl Price, Lexi Kidman, Nathan Sharp, and Jack Poolos) reported no motion of the entity and no suspicious activity.
The entity has not been reported or spotted since then. Request to experiment on the left over mist concentration.
Matthew gave me a journal to write in. He said it was âfor an extra look into that pretty little head of yoursâ but I'm guessing it's more of a gift than anything since I've been requesting a journal for days. If anything, it's to clear out my thoughts.
I was caught. I was brought to this hell. I fell in love. And I'm scared it's not real, that it's just Stockholm syndrome or something somehow. I can't ignore how my heart races when we get to spend time together, how nice his voice is and how soft his lips are, now kind he is to me and how he's always so cold so he hogs the blankets when Google buys us the time to sleep together.
I do love him. It's not some disorder, some trick of the mind... I love him. If I ever escape, I'll show that to him. Every day until I die. I wish there was something more for us than this, kisses exchanged on borrowed time, a quick fuck with no time afterwards, something more- But there's no chance.
If we were to escape, they would hunt us down, re-capture me and kill Matthew. As much as I tell myself that won't happen, I can't help but think. He offered to free me. I said no. I love him too much to see him die for me.
-Bim Trimmer
Ethan, I'm sorry for all of this. It's my fault that you're here, I was the one who told them and I didn't know they were... I can't live with the fact that I was the one whoâŠ
Ethan, it's my fault we're both going to rot in this hell hole because I fucked up and i can't fix things no matter how much shit we get I can't i can't
Ethan, This is my fault and I'm so sorry for everything please forgive me
Ethan, Ok, I think I'll have enough pears for you to have two, also, what is up with SCP-3013? You mentioned being assigned to clean his containment unit. Your pal, -Tyler.
I'm sorry.
Report number seventy-two. Google Blue Olivier âGoogleâ Blue.
As Dr. Patrick's âeye in the sky,â I find myself being hidden in plain sight, disguised as an intern working the security systems. The phrase âout of the frying pan, into the fire.â Comes to mind. Out of the containment pin and into the grasps of a love-struck maniac.
He has me monitor cameras and hallways, making sure nobody has a clue what he gets up to, warning him of oncoming obstacles and other things of the like. Mostly, though, I am making sure he doesn't get caught cuddling with a mother fucking goddam cannibal I cannot believe him he's supposed to be a scientist Mr. Trimmer, SCP-3038.
It's not all bad, but it is annoying to have to constantly monitor them. this situation is oddly amusing to me. I'm a high-functioning computerized android and yet I've been babysitting two dorks in love. It's sad, but amusing nonetheless.
Dr. Patrick has been staying for longer periods of time each occasion he visits Mr. Trimmer, SCP-3038. It could be cause for concern. Claude would probably think it was, he thinks everything is a cause of concern. Well, he thought.
After observing the cameras, the situations they put themselves in (some involving Dr. Patrick on his knees- or hands and knees (it seems my previous hypothesis was incorrect)) would be scandalous, ruining both of their lives and, in Dr. Patrick's case, his career.
Bim, I suspect, would be put under heavier surveillance. Nothing I couldn't crack, but stronger than before. Dr. Patrick would most likely be reassigned or killed, then expunged from the records.
It is possible, however, the foundation would use hm as a reminder of what happens when emotions and science collides. I, personally, am a living example of that, a supposedly emotionless being plagued by the death of my brothers.
Those two aside, Dr. Nelson seems to have connections to Mark Edward Fischbach, a D-class recently taken in for the murder of an unknown person. The name of the victim seems to be lost.
Either way, Dr. Nelson and Mr. Fischbach seem to have gone to highschool together. --As my brother Oliver used to say, âthey weren't just together, they were togetherâ The two of them dated for most of highschool and went to many social events together. Isaac would have liked going to the dances, the football games. With his sunglasses and skateboard, he would fit right in.
Mark and Amy's reunion was bittersweet. I read her digital journal, in which she stated how excited she was to see him, but how distraught she was to see him here of all places. Alan would probably go as far as to call her a romantic- she probably imagined their reunion as much nicer, probably involving flowery words and a long-missed smile. I miss their smiles.
I have decided to pass this information and more to Mr. Scheid and Mr. Nestor, who I have been supplying with information since my escape. Meddling aside, the two of them have accumulated much information for themselves, including the idea that Dr. Patrick aided my vessels escape. They're close to having information they could use to bargain themselves out of this prison- if only they knew what Bim was.
The reason I've supplied this information is simply because Tyler reminds me of Alan. How could I let him rot here the two of them are closest to success. Back to the subject of Dr. Patrick. I have found myself caring more and more for the eccentric man, much to my own chagrin. These human emotions I somehow carry are getting in the way of my life of my goals.
I have mistakenly called Dr. Patrick by Oliver my late brothers name multiple times. He reminds me of him. I am considering performing a minor reprogramming on myself in an attempt to purge myself of human emotions. I am wary of doing so due to the high probability that the reprogramming would cause severe damage to my higher reasoning functions. And if I get them back, what would they think of me? I will continue to document similar occurrences in documents akin to this one until my full escape.
if only I was the brave Theseus. If only I had some golden thread. if only I had saved them. if only I was a hero. if only
Additive: Upon informing Mr. Scheid and Mr. Nestor of Dr. Nelsons relations with Mr. Fischbach, they revealed they already knew. How they figured it out by themselves is beyond my reasoning, as Ethan and Tyler seemed to be preoccupied- Tyler with helping food preparation and Ethan with cleaning up after an experiment of sorts. I have no idea whatsoever how Tyler came across this information. But, hell, I'm in a building where the laws of physics- the laws of anything seem to be null and void. I have officially given up the arduous task of attempting to comprehend the oddities and entities in this building, even the normal humans.
Report pertaining the psychological status of --Jack-- Seán McLoughin By: Nathan Sharp
For the past few weeks, Seán has seemed a little on edge. When I asked him what was troubling him, he just told me he was having some computer problems that were a little troubling to him. I have no clue what computer problems could cause him to panic at the mention of the virus on my computer. As a teammate, I'm worried how this would affect Strike Team Nine Tailed Foxâs effectiveness in the field. As a friend, I'm just worried about him. Maybe it's just a small scare, maybe it's something worse- I just want my friend to be alright.
Nathan, The concern you hold for your friend is heartwarming, so is the loyalty for your team. Thank you for supplying us with this information so I can better understand what is troubling Seán. If you hear anything more, please tell me. The wellbeing of my team is a top priority. -Strike Commander Signe Hansen
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Golden Sun
Written by ð
± ! Scp Au
The rain dancing on the window pane was a familiar sound, much like the beat of Darks heart. Wilford pulled the blanket up to his chin, feeling Darks chest rumble with a laugh.
âAm I not warm enough for you?â
Wilford has to laugh at that, Dark is hot (in more ways than one) and he knows it. He leaned up, pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw.
âNot at all. I should go get another blanket,â Wilford slurred, his accent more pronounced because of how tired he was.
âOr,â Dark cooed, a tired smile on his face, âyou could maybe⊠not do that?â
Dark wrapped his arms around Wilford, burying his face in his soft pink hair. Wilford chuckled, letting himself be held by the man he loves, the rain pattering on the window. It wasn't too big of a storm, it would pass soon.
Hopefully. Wilford preferred the sun to the gray, stone-like sky, pouring rain.
âYou're watching the storm, aren't you?â Dark whispered. His voice held all the warmth and beauty of the covered sun as he carefully shifted, laying on his side.
Wilford wrapped his arms around Dark, wanting to be warm, not like when he was under that stone, in that room, waiting for the voice, the shock-
He tore himself away from the memory, loosening his grip on Dark.
âI hate storms.â
Dark propped himself up on one arm, the white sheets of the bed making him look angelic. Neither of them liked white. Why were the sheets white. Really, who buys sheets they don't even like, sure, they're soft but-
âSweetie, I asked if the storm was too loud?â Darkâs brow was furrowed with worry.
Warf pulled his boyfriend back to him, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla and the cologne Dark uses, he carefully spoke.
âI don't like not being able to see the sun.â
Dark nodded in agreement, pressing a warm pair of lips to Wilfords forehead.
âYou're my sun.â Dark pressed another kiss to his face, cupping his face with a calloused hand.
âEw, I'm not Oedipus.â Dark rolled his eyes at the joke, continuing to pepper Wilfords face with the soft kisses.
âOf course you're not,â he cooed between kisses, âyou're my beautiful, talented, shining sun. You're what kept me going in that hell, what kept me from giving up entirely-â
Wilford tightened his grip.
âI gave up.â He spoke, the odd slur in his voice making the words sound less serious than they were. Dark tried to speak, but Wilford cut him off.
âNo, I gave up. I tried to⊠I should've held on tighter. To you, to being able to escapeâŠâ
Dark shushed him with a soft, sweet kiss, tasting like the pancakes they had had for breakfast and chocolate. Wilford leaned into it, grinning into the kiss as Dark pulled him closer. Wilford ran his hands down Darkâs back, grinning into the kiss as he felt him shudder, breaking the kiss.
âI-â Wilford started, catching his breath, âI'm in love with you.â
Dark held him closer- if that was possible -and whispered to him.
âI'm in love with you too.â
They laid there, a tangled mess of limbs and hair, of kisses and soft touches, loving one another as the clouds rolled away and the sun shone through, gleaming gold.
Rise and shine 3014! A metallic voice grated.
Wilford had to force himself off of the bed again, reaching for the dream. It slipped through his fingers. Like it always did. His legs strained and his head pounded as he stood, whatever energy he once had had sapped from the years in this hell.
Fuck, he didn't know how long he had been down here since all the sharp things he could've used to carve into the walls were taken after-
First test of the day. Please take off your shirt.
He slipped off the scratchy, cold shirt, a sharp contrast to the blankets and the bed and Dark-
But that wasn't real. The scars that danced and darted across his skin were.
He sat, drained and so so so tired- tired of waiting, of the experiments, of everything- The scientists walked in. They strapped the electrode-things to his chest, neck and arms.
Test 4217, begin.
The flash of electricity hit him hard, his muscles locking up. A strangled cry escaped his lips as his vision wavered, turning the fluorescent lights as gold as the sun.
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Whole again
Provided once again by ð
±!
Among the people on the cameras, he was alone. He was used to being alone.
It wasn't like this before.
Google grazed the screen with shockingly blue eyes, not a single detail escaping his eye. Quietly, he whispered into the microphone in front of him.
âMatthew, the coast is clear.â He watched as the scientist slunk through the door of Bimâs containment unit, locking the door behind him.
The audio was muted, but he could see Matthew and Bim press their lips together, enjoying being alone.
Alone together, at least.
Google leaned back in his chair.
There was nothing good about being alone.
Once, he wasn't.
Red.
Green.
Yellow.
Gold.
He studied the cameras. Video feed of insignificant people in a hurry to go from one pointless place to another. One clump of scientists went into a glass room to study a coffee machine, (SCP-294, his mechanical brain provided) another escorting D-Class personnel to their deaths.
Ignoring Bim and Mads, curled together on Bimâs small bunk, Google watched the D-Class personnel be led.
The halls were a labyrinth, and Google was Theseus with the golden thread, the only one with a proper knowledge of all the twisting halls, brain too sophisticated for such things as human error or folly.
However, he figured, watching the D-Class personnel, he wasn't slaying any Minotaur, wasn't freeing any prisoners, wasn't doing anything except helping two people be in love.
Maybe he was Ariadne, in possession of a powerful object, the way to get out, but not able to do anything. That wouldn't be a surprise.
He was useless, a walking book of pointless knowledge. He was alone and useless.
âBROTHER! BROTHER HELP ME PLEASE!â Google whipped around, nearly falling out of his chair as the cry, although muted, came from the tv.
His heart was pounding as he stared at the cam. Static filled the monitor, but the screams were loud and familiar.
âHELP! PLEASE ITS TEARING ME-â
Google turned off the audio, not able to take the sound, the awful sound of screaming and crying and begging-
There were five of them at the start. Four brothers and a tag a long. Well, as time went on, the fifth is like a brother to him. Was.
As luck would have it, they were captured by the beasts at the same time. Blue was the only one conscious.
They didn't know he was.
âThe Doc wants to take some of them apart, see how they tick.â Blue didn't know what to hope.
If he was taken apart, what would happen to the others?
He never found out.
False tears of a saline solution poured from his shut eyes as the doctor- the glorified butcher -tore them apart. He listened silently, sedated, to Red howl and curse, to Green scream and fight, to Oliver hiss and sob, and to Bing beg and plead.
He opened his eyes only once. The sight of Green, lying motionless on a table, his eyes and parts of his chest missing still haunt him.
They didn't deserve it.
"Well, we could keep that one⊠I would love to see how it responded to tests..â Years passed. The pieces were there, but there was no way to put them back together.
Oliverâs brain was cracked, leaking purple fluid. He couldn't find Bing's golden eyes. Reds face was mutilated beyond repair, not to mention Greens legs. He would do anything to make them whole again.
Google forced his eyes open. The world was blurry with tears. Why is he crying? Why does he do that? Why does he feel? Why was the person who made him so cruel to stick him with emotions, why was fate so cruel to save him and not his brothers, to make him listen why was he still alive why hadn't he died why did he have to be alive why why why whywhywhy-
âGoogle. Google! Is the coast clear?â Google forced himself out of it, coughing to compose himself.
âYes Matthew,â his voice was pained and brittle, ready to break, âthe coast is clear.â
The scientist smiled at the camera, slowly opening the door from Bims containment room and slinking into the hallway. The camera Google had been observing was back on, a skinny, blue-haired janitor cleaning up the bloody remains of the D-Classers.
Google slammed his hand on the desk. He would not stand for this. He would be Theseus. He would kill the Minotaur, and find a way out. And he would take the others with him.
And he would make them whole again.
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The Demonâs Shadow
Written by ð
±
One simple discovery leads to a well of knowledge.
Amy tapped her pencil on her clipboard, leaning back in the swivel chair. She adjusted the noise-canceling headphones upon her head once more, trying to get a snug fit. Swiveling, she looked at the clock.
3:42 AM.
It should be asleep by now. She could go back to her quarters and attempt to grab a decent nights sleep before Dr. Schneeplestein woke her up for breakfast.
But lo and behold, SCP-3002 was awake and pacing around the room.
The smug bastard.
Amy snatched the Red-bull off of the lab table, chugging it before slamming the can right back where it came from. From her seat in the chair, she could almost see the flickering, gray figure of SCP-3002.
He had showed up the first week of her second year. And by showed up, that meant he was carted in, head rolling aimlessly because of the sedatives they were giving him. Amy watched as the thing stumbled, falling face first onto the floor. The entity grappled for something to lift themselves up with, but always fell short. An assistant came by with noise-canceling headphones, mentioning the things ability to manipulate. Amy reached up, adjusting the headphones on her head. Sure, the glass was thick, but even the slightest chance that that thing could get inside her head was horrifying. Dr. Patrick, ever the daring, never wore headphones.
âWhy should I? It usually just screams during tests.â A shudder went through Amy as she recalled the first day, the thing laying on its back and screaming- no, screaming isn't the right word. It had been keening, the occasion choked sob breaking from its gray lips like a mourner at a funeral
She had cried that night. Not for the thing, but because it's face was so familiarâŠ
Amy sits back up, forcing the memories of brown hair and kind smiles and beautiful laughter out of her mind. Nobody knew what had happened to Mark after graduation. She had to focus.
But so much had happened since then.
Sure, most of it was mundane, she went to college, forgot about the boy who had stolen her heart, and soon found herself with a doctorate degree and a strange note.
She couldn't remember most of what it had said, but the end of the note was
âWe look forward to your answer, Dr. Nelson.â
The odd note was simply signed â-The Foundation.â
She took the job. She met Dr. Schneeplestein and then Dr. Patrick, Director Knutsen, and the rest is history.
Except the things that stood out among the sea of memories. The thing, laying on the floor and screaming, the energy around it turning the room gray, using the tattered sleeve of its suit jacket to wipe tears from its face.
The next day, it had been drugged again, but it was much calmer. It insisted to be called Dark. The name was so close to Mark it hurt, but Amy had felt a tug of glee when it introduced itself; it's highly intelligent and capable of basic interaction with humans. Hell, it even asked for someone named Wilford.
It was sad, though. It was so intelligent and powerful, and now it's doomed to a life of sedation and fluorescent light and experiments that caused his body to jolt and twitch and curl up. Its. Not his. It is an it.
Standing, she pressed a hand to the glass, taking a quick look at the clock.
4:20.
Blaze it.
With a small chuckle, she looked into the containment unit of SCP-3002. It was idly pacing around the room, fiddling with its suit, which was repaired again. One of the most interesting things about it is that the suit had been burned, boiled, torn, soaked, bloodied, vomited upon and even eaten, but appeared in impeccable shape upon the entity every night.
Reaching for her clipboard and pen, she watched the figure pace about his containment unit, tinting the world around him gray. Focusing on him, she drew her pen across the paper. The paleness of his face and his hollow cheeks, the perfect suit, even the motion as it restlessly paced, perfectly captured by Amy's pen.
The things face reminded her of Mark, but the eyes were too harsh, too rough to be his.
God knows what had happened to him, though. The lights in the unit flicker, SCP-3002 sapping some energy from them. It would need more sedative soon. They needed a better solution to keep him in check. Dr. Patrick suggested that finding the âWilfordâ he spoke could give them an edge, but that seemed a bit much.
With graceful strokes of her pen, she captured the monster without any sedatives, just ink and paper. All of it, from its perfect hair to its shadow-
Wait.
Amy looked back onto the paper, then at the entity. Only one thing between the two was different. The drawing had a shadow.
It didn't.
Of all the years studying it, all the time in the observation room, how did nobody notice it didn't have a shadow?
An odd warmth bubbled up around her, filling the air as a laugh escaped her throat. It didn't have a shadow! Of all things! A shadow! It was like Peter Pan!
The warm, bubbly feeling continued, wrapping all around her as she laughed, the sound hidden from her ears by the headphones. Snorting happily, she looked out of the window, the divide between her and 3002. It stood, shadowless, looking much more⊠human.
The warmth surrounding her moved her arms and legs, removing the headphones from her ears and practically skipping over to the door to the containment unit. Laughing, she flung it open.
3002 whirled around instantly as the door clicked, staring at Amy.
âHello there, Doctor.â It's voice was worn with disuse, but carried the honey tone that was sweet enough to kill.
A small, still cold part of Amy flinched at the words, prepared for the feeling of 3002 seizing her mind. But there was nothing. The thing said nothing, waiting patiently.
âYou,â she giggled slightly, the air around her as sweet as sugar and as warm as Marks smile, as the sunshine miles above ground, âyou don't have a shadow.â
The thing turned deathly pale, a slight ringing sound becoming audible.
âYou don't have a shadow,â she repeated giddily, âand now you can't hurt me. Is that how it works?â The thing nodded, dumbstruck and eyes wide.
Huh, it really did look like Mark. Slowly, she took a step forward, the thing scuttling backwards.
âI'm not going to hurt you.â 3002 straightened itself.
âI swear.â
Fiddling with its tie, 3002s face hardened.
âYou're not going to tell anyone about my shadow, either.â Amy smiled at that, the warm feeling dancing around her and bubbling over.
âAnd why should I not?â 3002 sighed.
âI'll tell you everything about myself if you keep this secret. Years of research done in one minute.â It extended a hand.
âDo we have a deal?â She shook its hand, not shocked by the coldness at all.
âYou have yourself a deal, Dark.â The shadowless thing straightened its suit, a sharp grin on his face.
âShall we begin?â
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Snarkâs Masterpost
Crossing my fingers that this ish works. Some stuff is definitely missing but itâs fine.
Shorts B writes a thing The Bed Song DomesticLife Sleepover I would still adore you Bing plays hero A questionable friendship
The Doctor is Dying [wip] Chapter 1
Project SCP [wip] Emails Mix Gossip Ethan and Tyler Reports Chapter 1
Icarus au Break he did Canât help but wonder why Partridge
We five brothers [wip] Chapter 1
Mermaid au They met in the spring
Five times Chase Brody Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
A Common Goal [Dropped? Project] Chap 1 Chap 2 Chap 3
Google In Peril Chap 1 Chap 2 Chap 3
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B Writes A Thing
I wasnât told what to title this. The one and only B wrote us something awesome for the mermaid au, please enjoy.
Mare never liked the shallows. The water was too warm, the sun too bright and everything too alive. He stayed where he belonged, where he had spent most of his life, in the cold, dark depths of the ocean, having never been very close to the surface.
Despite that description not sounding very pleasant, it was nice. Cold, refreshing water, few neighbors, and an endless abyss to explore. Shifting sand was an easy replacement of the dancing rays of the sun, and the glinting lights of bioluminescent fish was all the company he needed.
Occasionally, things would sink down from the surface, sticking out in the empty landscape. âMare collected them. Plastic scraps, empty cans, even the bracelets and earrings that adorned him had sunk down from that far-away place where food and sunlight was plenty.
Of course, he had to share some of it. âDo you have anything for me, Nathan?â Speak of the devil.
âMare looked away from the ornate mirror, the centerpiece of his âhomeâ. Dark floated in the middle of the rocky cave, his glowing lure bobbing idly. Setting down the cloth he was using to polish the sharp spines of his tail, he turned to face the merman.
âThere should be a knife, a ring, and an empty Pepsi can on the table. Your boy toy will love them.â âMare watched with a smile as Darks pale face flushed, visible even in the meager light.
âNathan,â Dark straightened himself, flicking his lure out of his face, âI believe I have told you to not refer to Wilford as my âboy toy.â âMare gave him a fanged smirk, focusing back onto the mirror.
âAnd I thought I told you not to call me Nathan.â Dark scoffed at that, swimming over to join âMare in front of the mirror. The immense pressure had caused it to crack a bit, a pattern of splintered glass in the upper corner of the mirror. Dark ran a hand through his hair, âMare smiling as the long strands swayed aimlessly.
Dark was like a brother to him, a constant companion in the dark of the deep.That's why his next words shocked him. âYou should come to the surface with me.â Dark stated, idly playing with his hair.
âMare pulled away from the touch, looking at him, confused. âHear me out. There are a lot of people I would like for you to meet.â âMare swam away from the mirror, not wanting to listen.
He had gotten used to Dark coming and going from the depths, hell, sometimes he wouldn't hear from him for months while he was up on the land. But this? Asking him to tag along? That was too much.
The idea of blinding sun and practically boiling water made him shudder. Dark noticed this, throwing a scale covered arm around his shoulders. âI assure you, Nathan, that you'll love it up there. Sure, the sun is a hellish abomination and it's pretty fucking crowded, but you'll love the people.â âMare snorted, bubbles rising through the water.
âLike how you met your⊠what's his name, Wilford?â Dark chuckled. âYes, exactly like how I met my Wilford.â âMare joined him in laughing, imagining him at the surface, warm water and sun, the reassuring pressure of the miles of water above them absent.
âFine. I'll come with you, but only once. Ok?â Dark extended a hand, smiling as âMare took it in a strong handshake. âDeal.â âYou know, you've been smiling a lot recently, that Wilford guy must be pretty damn good.â âBelieve me, love does that sort of thing to people. One day, it'll make sense to you.â Nate slipped from Darks grip, returning to his original place in front of the ornate mirror.
âIt would take more than love from one person to make me see, Dark.â With a small huff, Dark collected his promised items before promptly swimming out of Nate's cave.
âI'm leaving tomorrow. Meet me by the trench, Nathan.â âMare resumed sharpening the points of his tail, looking as fearsome as the black dragonfish he resembled.
âOf course. I'll see you later, Dark.â As âMare sat in front of his mirror, lovingly caring for his scales, he had to wonder: what was waiting for him up there? Who was waiting for him up there that Dark insisted he had to meet? Only time would tell.
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Project SCP - A Mix.
A mix of things that are, as usual, not written by me ^^; B is still contributing more than I have rip.
Mission Report on Strike Team Nine Tailed Fox By: Seán Jack McLoughlin Strike Team Nine Tailed Fox found and retrieved SCP-[REDACTED] and SCP-[REDACTED]. The objects appeared to be a statue of a Jackrabbit and a small marble. When the marble is held in someone's hand, the jackrabbit statue will come to life and attack the person in possession of the marble. I, unfortunately, was the person to figure this out. After the capture of SCP-3025, the team went to an old bar. In the corner was the statue. The Jackrabbit was holding the marble, and I took it. What I didn't expect was the statue to start clawing at my face and arms. Thankfully, I dropped the marble, and the jackrabbit retrieved it, soon returning to its peaceful state. Unfortunately, that incident stuck me with the nickname Jackrabbit, which soon morphed into Jack. Since there is another Seán, the team insists I am called Jack. This report has turned very unprofessional, but I would request to be called Seán, and have the other Seán get a nickname. We could call him Toby or something.
Jack McLoughlin, Strike Team Nine Tailed Fox prides itself on flawless performance and competence in the face of danger. Unfortunately, proper communication is needed for this to happen. Your teammates stuck you with the name Jack, which cleared up the possible conflicts that would have arisen with two members of the team named Seán. I apologize that this upsets you, but it is truly for the best. -Captain Hansen
And now... an excerpt from the diary of Dr. Matthew Patrick; I spent most of the day with Bim. Google helped me with the cams and keeping people away from us, mostly with a sign the janitor was doing work in the observation room. In reality, it was Bim and I, curled on the small cot of the containment cell, talking and kissing. It was nice. Even though Bim talked me out of releasing him, I still can't help but imagine what things would be like outside of this prison. Maybe instead of a cot, it would be an actual bed with soft blankets and softer pillows, the sun shining in through the windows. Maybe we could even sleep in, enjoy the others company in silence. There is no silence down here. There's always chatter or the whine of machinery or the far off cry of someone dying. But the idea of a soft bed, wrapped in Bims arms, just the two of us, no cameras to mess with no scientists to worry about is the sweetest thing I can imagine. Yesterday, I âborrowedâ an SCP that has the secondary power to preserve organic matter. I used it to preserve The Heart.
Personnel report: By: Director Knutsen Mark Edward Fischbach has been admitted as a D-Class after being found guilty of the murder of Mr. [REDACTED]. Mr. Fischbach was given the death penalty before our intervention. His code is D-3178.
Report on SCP- 3013 By: Dr. Nelson It seems that 3013 has two types of ânarrationsâ, one that is just a description of the world around it, and the other openly controls events and objects. The sedatives being used to keep this entity from harming itself or others has the potential to become addicted, so instead of the sedative, I would suggest using a muzzle of some sort to keep it from narrating. Additive: before the muzzle was implemented, the entity wouldn't stop talking about someone called Edward.
Dr. Patrick, Firstly I would like to thank you for my vessels freedom. Now that I have covered the human pleasantries, I feel like I must report that there have been a number of technical glitches in the system. Most of these anomalies manifest in the shape of a green haired man. I have matched the face to Seán McLoughlin, a member of Strike Team Nine Tailed Fox. The glitch and the man have few physical differences, so I assume they are one and the same. Should I eliminate the target? -Google.
Google, What? What other evidence do you have to support that the glitch and the man are the same person? If you kill someone, I'll eat you out. I'm not kidding. -Dr. Patrick
Dr. Patrick, You will eat me out? Isn't this one of the things that you fantasized Bim doing to you? I respect you, but not that much. -Google.
Google, For the love of fuck, I meant I'll rat you out if you kill anyone. I sent this from my phone and it autocorrected. Either way, that means if you kill anyone, I'll tell them where you are and blame the murder on you. I've been through your systems, I know how you work. -Dr. Patrick.
Dr. Patrick, If I was human I would feel threatened. I will not act, but will continue to watch for the glitch. I also apologize, because even though Bim is a cannibal, I doubt he eats ass. -Google.
Google, Just watch for the glitch. -Dr. Patrick.
Jack McLoughlin, During a routine computer check, your laptop seemed to malfunction and start to flash green and black. When the laptop was rebooted, all of the files were corrupted. We have no idea what has caused this, and we want an explcÌ·ÒirÍÍclesÍ cÌÍiÍ¢ŗ͡clÌ¢eÍ sÍ fucÌžÍk͢͡iÍÍ¡ÍngÌ¢ Í cirÍÍcÍļ̶͡eÍ̧̧sÌ¡ cÍ¡ÍiÍÌ¡ÍrÍ̵͡cÍÌ¢ÍlÒeÌšsÌš ciÍrÍ¡clÍÍeÍs̡͢ Íf̞̞ÌuÍ cÍkÍiÍ¡Ì¢nÒÍgÌ¡Ì§Í Ì¡ÍÌžcÍÌžiÍ̢̞rÍ¢cÌŽÌŽlÍ ÒeÍ¢s ÍÍ̧roÌ¡Í uÍ nÒ̵dÍ aÍÌ¢nÌŽdÍ̶̧ rÌÍoÍÍ¡uÍnÍdÌŽ ÌŽÍÍaÌšnÍdÍÌ· Í¡rÍouÍÌžnÍÌšd ̧Ía̵̡nÍ¡dÍÌŽ rÍÍÌounÍ dÍ¡ Í¡ÍÍI̞̚Í'mÍ ÌŽÍÌŽdÒÍonÒÌ¡ÍeÌ· ÌŽiÍ͢͢'̞͢͡mÍ Í̵̡t̶̷iÒrÌeÍÌ·d̵̎ ÌÌŽÍIÌÒ Í¢wÍaÍÍnÌµÍ tÌÒÍ¡ Ít̵̞oÍ Ì¢ÌÍ¢sÍÌ¡lÌ¡ÍeȩÌp̧ Í¡IÌ·Ì¡ ÌŽwÍÌšanÍ¢ţ ÍÌžt̶hiÍÍsÍÍ Í¡ÒtÍ ÍoÌ· Ò̶b̶eÌ ÌµÌ¶oÌ¡ÍvÍÍÌeÍÍrÍÌ§Ì I̢̢ ÌÌ¡ÍwÍaÍntÍÍÍ ÌžtÍ¡Ì¡oÌ¢ Ígo Ì̶hÌ¢ÍomÍ¢e Ì§Ì¢Í homÍ¢ÍeÌ·ÍÍ Ì¶ÒÍhÌ¢o̵̵mÒe̞̚ ÍÒh̶̷ÍoÍÌ·ÌžmÍÍ¢eÌ·ÍÍ w̵̧hÌŽerÌ¡Í ÒeÌŽÍ̵ ̵ÒÍaÌ·mÍ¡Í Ì§I ÌžÍÍcÍÍ¢ÍanÍ Í¡aÌnyÍ Ì¢ÌŽoÍn̞͢eÌŽ ̧uÍ¡Ì¢nÍÍ dÍ ÌžeÍrÌšsÍtÍaÍÌŽnÍdÌÍ Í¡mÌšÍeÌ¢Í c̶i̞̚rÌšÍÌ·cÍÍleÍ¢s ÌÌcÍiÌrÍ ÍÍ¢clÍeÍ sÍ ÍciÍÌ·rÍcÌŽlÍesÌ·Í Í ÌžÍIÍÌžÍ ÍÍÍsÍeeÌ¡Í ÍÍ¢ÌyoÍ Ì§uÍÍ̵ ̢̢tÍhÍeÍÌŽrÌžeÍ Í ÍcÌŽirÌ̶cÍ ÍlÌ·Íe̶̎s̢̚͢ ÍrÌšÌoÍ¢uÌndÍÌžÒ ÌÍaÍÒn̶̡̧dÍÍ Ì·Ì¡rÍoÍ ÌžuÒ̧̢ņ͢dÍ¢Ì¶Í ÍÌ¡3Ìž.ÌÍ1Ì·ÌŽ4Í ÒÌ·ÍnÌÍÍo̶ÍÌš ÍeÍÌšnÌžd̶̷ Í¡ÌÍo̶ÍÍveÍrÌš ÌŽÍÒaÍ nÌ¢ÍÍdÍ Ío̧̢̡vÍ͢͡e̵ÌrÍ¡Í¢ ÍsÌ·oÍÌ Ì¶tÍ¢ÒiÌ̵rÍ¡eḑ Ì·fÍ¡aÒÍ dÍÍ¡iÍngÌ§Í¢Í ÍÍfÌ·ÌšrÍÍ¡ÍoÒÌm ̶̶v̧i̧ÍewÍ¡Ì¢Í ÌIÌ¡ÍÍ'ÍÌ¢Ím ̵̷dÌ·Ì¢oÍÍÍ¡neÍ¡Ì· I̶̚'ÍÍmÍ ÌdÍo̞͢nÌ¡Ì·eÍÌŽÌ I'̢͢mÌ§Í ÌoÍÌ·Ì·v̵eÌr̵ Ì·Ì¢ÍiÍÌŽtÍ'ÌsÍ¡Í oÍÌvÍÍ eÍrÍ ÌšÌ¢Í¡I̵̶͢'Í mÌš ÍcÌ¡oÍmÍ¢Ìi̷̵ÍnÌžÒÌŽgÍ Ì¶ÍÍfÌorÒÍÍ y̞͢ÍoÌšÍuÌž Í̧prÍÌšeÌžÍtÍt̶y bÌžÌo̧̢y!Í¢ anation.  Yet again, if there's anything you have to come clean about, please say so. A spot like this on your record could ruin you. -Captain Hansen.
Captain Hansen, Is this a prank? What's the shit with the glitchy text? -Seán McLoughlin.
Jack McLoughlin, I have no idea what you are talking about. Mind your language around your superiors. -Captain Hansen.
Captain Hansen, I apologize for my language. I⊠think I need to sleep. I haven't been getting good sleep lately. For a week, at least. Nightmares. Goodnight, captain! -Seán McLoughlin
Seán McLoughlin, Goodnight to you too. -Captain Hansen.
To the employees of The Foundation, I would like to thank you for all you have done for this Foundation, whether that would be running experiments or risking life and limb to assure the entities and objects in this facility are safely contained. When I first was given this job nearly five years ago, I didn't quite know what to expect, but now I know I'm working with some of the most brilliant and brave people out there. Thank you all for five excellent years, and the better years to come. -Foundation Director Knutsen
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Ethan and Tyler
One day Iâll contribute. âTil then hereâs another thing from- you guessed it! ð
±.
Tyler scrubbed at the dirty trays, listening to the ongoing chatter of the cafeteria. It's not like he was a gossip, but his roommate was. â...So apparently,â a scientist continued, âDr.Nelson and the D-class- the Mark guy? Yeah, he went to highschool with her and they just reconnected.â Tyler whistled to himself. Damn, his roommate would love that. The janitor pushed his cart into the room, mopping right in front of Tyler, his bright blue hair flopping into his face. Huh. Speak of the devil. âSo,â Ethan, Tyler's roommate, whispered, âhear anything?â Tyler smiled, wiping off the last tray. âFrom what I heard, Dr. Nelson is dating a D-Class named Mark. Also-â Ethan was suddenly in his face. âWait, a D-Class named Mark? I know him!!!â By this time, Ethan was nearly shouting. Tyler grabbed a fry from the tray and shoved it in his mouth, attempting to calm him. âOk ok ok. Chill the fuck out. You know the guy who's dating Dr. Nelson?â Ethan nodded, his mouth full. Swallowing, he began to talk again. âMark was the guy whose blood I had to mop up the other day! Wait, that was bad of context. He's alive, don't worry, he was just- I told you about the obsidian knife? Yeah, they took the skin from him⊠either way, he's a pretty nice guy. Pretty handsome too.â Tyler snorted, Ethan defensively holding onto his mop. âWhat?â His blue-haired friend continued, âall Iâm saying is that Iâd tap that. Anyways, I'm pretty sure he was one of the âdeath rowâ D-Classes⊠I talked to him, he said it was an accident. Honestly? I believe him.â Tyler frowned at that, thinking of the other D-Classes. The foundation mostly took their D-Class personnel from prisons, using them for tests and experiments. Ethan and him, on the other hand, had gotten off easy. Ethan had been a drug dealer. He was a janitor now. Tyler was in organized crime. Now he's a lunch lady. Suddenly, he was pulled back into reality as Ethan placed a hand on his shoulder. âYou alright man?â Tyler forced a grin on his face, nodding his head. âYeah, Iâm good. Oh, one more thing, I heard Dr. Schneeps telling Dr. Patrick to get a psyche evaluation. I also heard Dr. Nelson say something about an SCP-3022- here's the thing, though. It's being allowed to roam free.â Ethan's smile lit up the room as he pushed some of his hair from his face. As Ethan continued to talk, Tyler could feel the smile creep onto his face. In their room, they had journals and papers, secrets written on the backs of napkins and stolen binders and little messages from people too drunk to remember giving them the information. Every little detail could buy them out of this life. Tyler had blackmailed before. He would again. It's not like anyone would suspect them. Tyler was a lunch lady. Ethan was a janitor.
Not for much longer, though.
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Ethan and Tyler- The Gossip.
Odd title, and once again done by ð
± . I have yet to properly contribute any serious writing to this project thatâs worth posting rip.
Ethan's gossip log ! Dr. Nelson has relations with D-Class personnel Mark F. Dr. Schneeplestein  has a possible foot fetish SCP-3022 is being allowed to roam freely Dr. Patrick has been told twice to get a psyche evaluation and is generally unstable Dr. Patrick could possibly have relations with a man called Bim..? (Ethan I think the diary page we got confirms that) (Stfu Tyler) SCP-3025 is being used by several people to heal them, there's a separate list of those people An A-class joked about Mat enabling the several suicide attempts of 3014. While a joke, it could hold some truth. SCP-3013 has never had a bandage change. (Tyler I gave yo the list of people who are fucking, right?) (You mean your conspiracy theories? Yeah I have them all) (Thanks bro) Dr. Patrick was the one who freed SCP-3009, referring to the robot as a âvesselâ Dr. Schneeps favors SCP-3022 over the others, and has even requested a pudding cup to give to him Dr. Nelson is rather fond of SCP-3002 and SCP-3014
A letter-
Tyler! While cleaning Dr. Patrick's quarters, I stumbled across something that could guarantee our release! I found his diary. Here's a small excerpt: Bim let me examine him, since he never let anyone give him a physical when he first was contained. He seemed to have a bad cut on his chest, and let me clean and bandage it. Sure, he flinched a little when I was cleaning it, but most of the time he was complaining about how cold my hands were. At the end of his physical, he took my hands in his, rubbing them. When I asked him why he was doing that, he simply said âYour hands are cold, I'm trying to warm them.â Honestly, It was nice. Soon, my hands were warmer, and so was my face. I don't even know if he was trying to flirt or if he was just concerned for my hands. I don't want him to get hurt, or experimented on. I think I might be in love with him. I'm planning to free him. We could use that. We're as good as gone!!! -Ethan
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