#(A lotta kinda STRANGE things even)

[carbonfiction]

First bloom

Summary: Frank has a moment of vulnerability as he gifts you flowers for the first time.

Happy valentines Besties!! <33

Warnings?: whole lotta fluff really. nothing much to add other than Frank giving reader flowers for the first time and being a little bashful about it. (M' a sucker for a big, gruff, kinda angry man being a sweetheart to the person he loves alright?) possible horrible writing- a girl be struggling..

Pretty obvious buuut with this im adding frankie to my 'will write for' list bc i am, at my very core and before most fixations i ever had, a frank castle girlie.. With that said my normal Logan stuff will remain!! but i thought I'd get this lil thing out while it feels good in my mind and before i make a million changes- writers block has got my ass again but asks are still open!

Masterlist. Words: 1.1k

Franks feet feel heavy in his boots, each step thudding on the concrete. The streets are quiet, winter air crisp and cool as he digs a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he goes. Keep one hand warm and the other? Well.. That one feels pretty cold and yet, strangely, a little clammy at the same time.

In Franks grasp rests a bunch of colourful flowers; lillies, roses, some little delicate buds he doesnt recall the name of for decoration. 'Oh those? Those are called Babys breath frank!' He hopes you'll tell him with a beam later.

The rose thorns prod at his palm, his grip on the bundle of stems tense, but he finds it doesn't hurt the longer he walks. They just.. Ground him slightly as he treads closer to home. Closer to you.

Theres a peace that settles within him in your presence, he finds; one that seems to dim the darkness that swirls in his heart. You ease the ache that so often sits inside him, Never erasing it, no one ever could but.. You lessen it. Always willing to take the weight from his broad shoulders, if only for a little.

And for that? Frank is greatful.

He knows he can be alot; his grumpiness piled almost as high as his baggage. But you dont ever seem to mind.

You embrace him on the days he needs it but cant find it in himself to ask and keep him at arms length when you see in his eyes that being loved feels stifling; its just how life is with him. Yet you do it all with that soft smile and gentle hand, the polar opposite to his rough lines and jagged edges. Keeping him sane on the days when he believes himself to be anything but.

The hand he dug into his pocket seems clammier now as he pulls out his set of keys, the lock clicking open moments later. Its just flowers castle, pull it together he thinks, stepping back into the warm embrace of your apartment. Given girls flowers before for christ sake.

"sweetheart?" he calls out, gruff voice booming through the hall.

You jump slightly at the sound, placing down the wooden spoon that you had been stirring the fragrant pot on the stove with. Voice calling back "in the kitchen!" with a significantly softer tone.

You wait with your body leaning against the counter, observing how the bulk of him rounds the corner. A large arm behind his back; still in his coat. A suspicious rustle of cellophane filling the kitchen as he shifts on his feet, but still you grin at the sight.

"Got everything you needed" he says, hand digging through his coat pocket with various clinks and russles. In his large hand he pulls out a collection of little packets and jars, placing them on the counter. refills of various spices, salts and even a little box of yeast pouches for bread making sit in a heap; things you were running low on earlier.

you beam that perfect smile at him, murmering softly as you step forward, leaning up on your toes to kiss his stubled cheek. "Perfect, thank you frankie"

He accepts the kiss with a soft hum, dipping his head for you to reach.

But still that arm remains behind his back. He almost hopes you dont notice.. But you do, he can tell.

"Uh Frank?.." you start a little cautiously with that same grin, however this time theres a little glint of confusion added as you step back just slightly. "What are you hiding?"

You stew in his silence for a moment, a crease wedging its way back between his brows. Handsome face suddenly filled with... trepidation?

"Frank.." you start again, a little more seriously as you step closer. By now you're fully expecting something bad; that someones been gunning for him again and hes hurt. That there must be blood soaking through his coat and thats why hes hiding.

But as quick as he paused, he sighs, broad shoulders falling just slightly. that same arm once hidden, now outstretched infront of you. The colourful bouquet at eye level as you take it in, a tiny gasp slipping past your lips.

"Frank castle did.." you begin, hand coming to join his on the delicate stems. Your voice is hushed and a little shakey as your eyes scan up and across his face. "Did you buy me flowers?"

His head moves in a little nod, chest puffing out just slightly as he releases his grip; completly surrendering both the flowers and himself.

"Yeah i, uh.." he gruffs, thinking outloud before he stops; practically looking everywhere but at you. The pot on the stove, the cups on the sink, even his boots. Its then he realises that he's almost afraid to see some semblance of rejection in your gaze; that he's missteped or you dont like them. That this sense of peace you wash over him is about to be swept away; wide eyes and incredulous tone not helping his state.

Frank takes another breath, steeling himself; his walls building back up, before he simply settles on a shake of his head and a huff. "Doesn't matter, 's stupid alright"

"No, no its not stupid." you rush out, remaining close as you eye the flowers in your hand and then him again. "They're beautiful frank.."

"Saw em and they reminded me of you so..." he coughs, a large hand scratching at the back of his neck. "thought I'd get em.."

Frank shifts on his feet, stance widening as you suddenly throwing yourself into his arms and grip him tightly; the Boquet landing on the counter seconds before your impact to his chest. You hold him like that for a few quiet moments before you lean back, resting on your tip toes as you cup a rough cheek.

"Thank you.." you whisper softly, honesty pure in your words. A little bashful grin across your lips as you lean up a little higher. "I love them, really. They're perfect"

Frank gazes down at you gently, a finger of his own brushing over your skin as he leans in, kissing you with such unspoken emotion it could knock you off your feet- if he wasnt already keeping you up.

"Yeah sweetheart? Really think they are all that?" he murmers, forehead against yours, the air of unease beginning to slip from your reaction. Enjoying the endearing heat of your gaze.

Your lips meet his in another tender kiss as you press the words against him; though they hold a hidden, deeper meaning. "Yeah Frank.. I really do"

[iamespecter]

My phone's battery keeps dying (I think something's wrong with it) but I cooked a little bit more on this Doctor!Caine and Patient!Pomni idea.... and this may or may not become bigger than The Amazing Digital Roadtrip.....

My mental illness cannot be contained!!!!!!!!!!!! Also these designs are subject to change because yes ✌️

Things I've come up with last afternoon while going crazy from the lack of dopamine are:

- Abstraction is currently determined to be a terminal illness

- It's contagious via skin-on-skin contact, and can be inherited through genes

- it can even bloom late in life, but that doesn't mean everyone that the patient has touched before is immediately affected

- The physical symptoms are inky black "cracks" forming along the skin, physical degradation, loss of saturation and many more

- Depending on a lot of factors, this illness can be aggressive, or at most be dormant.

- Once it reaches the patient's brain, it is too late

- But the progress of abstraction can also be delayed through amputation, depending on where the "source" is

- It only really affects "organic" stuff

- Which means AI robots are immune, and can touch the patient as much as they want without risk of infecting themselves

- Kinger is the CEO/Founder of the AI Association that focuses on the research about Abstraction, and how to cure it

- He is also, strangely enough, kinda immune? idek he seems fine except he's a bit cuckoo

- Because of it's contagiousness, people who suffer from the abstraction illness are GREATLY FEARED by others

- People who have the illness have to wear a lot of protection (such as gloves, face mask, etc.) in order to even interact with the outside world

- They also need to have their AI Doctor/Nurse with them AT ALL TIMES.

About the main pairing:

- Pomni is the only daughter of Kinger and the late Queenie

- She used to be more upbeat early in her life, until Queenie passed. She then became depressed, and it only got worse as her illness began to show and she became cynical as a result, believing she'll die early, and alone

- Caine was named and created based off of the image of Pomni's imaginary friend during her childhood, in order to ease her into accepting Caine as her personal doctor

- This did NOT, in fact, ease her into accepting Caine as her personal doctor because what the fuck.

- Pomni hates AIs for being unable to save Queenie.

- She also thinks that her new doctor won’t be able to save her, and that her dad’s efforts to delay her situation are fruitless.

- Part of her still clings onto hope. However, said part is also dying.

- Caine is a test prototype of a model that’s supposed to handle (and even possibly cure) the symptoms of abstraction, so there’s defo a lotta pressure on his shoulders

- Especially when he gets assigned to SPECIFICALLY THE DAUGHTER OF THE CEO WHO OWNS HIM

- He’s also one of the first AIs to not only be psuedo-sentient, but also self-evolving; in order to be able to adjust to patient needs and wants.

- He can “manifest” anything physical as long as it’s within the size limit of his own physical manifestation. For example, if Pomni is hyperventilating; he can manifest a pair of artificial lungs that pump oxygen in order to give her breathing space. (You know what that means)

- Not only is he able to float, he is also able to carry Pomni like she weighs like a couple of grapes because this is not me being self-indulgent and thinking he should carry her bridal style all the time (lie), this is me saying “it’s for emergencies when Pomni is too weak to even stand or walk”

- Pomni hated Caine A LOT at first because she hated having to be co-dependent on this walking life support so yes this is an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers kinda story (except it was one-sided "enemies")

- As the story progresses, Pomni clings onto the hope of not just surviving, but also living again; as Caine learns what it means to be not just existing, but alive!!! because me and my homies love stories about positivity and hope amongst shitty situations!!!!

- And then they fuck. Oh yes, they fuck eventually. And they fuck a lot after that

I don’t care this is MY story, MY AU, I will do whatever the fuck I want!!!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAA

I have no idea if I want some of the gang to be AI Doctors/Nurses too but erm. we'll see

[notiddygothgf]

SEX IS FREE (her)

★ pairings: nanami kento x f! reader

★ synopsis: In the search for solace, Nanami stumbles right into the arms of an exotic dancer. In the search for money, an exotic dancer finds more than she bargained for. In the heat of the moment, a contractual relationship turns into something more. (or; the one where sugar daddy!nanami is sweet on his girl)

★ c.w.: nanami being sexy asf, suggestive content, mentions of sex (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HIIIIII omg so i can explain the hiatus lol.... it was totally unintentional. i wound up getting super depressed over school and then fell into a chainsaw man hyperfixation (read shameless, its an aki ff i wrote youll love it). I FINALLY PICKED THIS STORY UP AGAIN because for some reason it's been getting a lot of attention recently??? lol anyway! your comments inspired me to continue writing it (though i cant promise that i'll update quickly, i AM a full time student so #bepatientwithme).

I was salivating over Nanami in this chapter if you couldnt tell lol.... but enjoy!!! keep those comments coming! who knows, maybe i have another chapter stored away and will update a little earlier....... x

★ w.c.; 5.6k

my kinda love; chapter index

‘AND I’M BAD LIKE THE BARBIE. I’m a doll, but I still wanna party,’

“Donnie, baby, you in there?”

“Yeah!” You called back, loud enough for your coworker to hear through the door. You pressed the tube of red lipstick against your bottom lip, peering into the mirror, filling in the outline you had done in black. When you didn’t receive an immediate answer, you continued humming along to the song playing quietly from your phone. “Pink vette like I’m ready to bend. ‘Imma ten so I’m pullin a ken, likeee.”

Your coworker entered the dressing room – you were the only one there. Most of the other girls from the afternoon shift had gone home already. 

“Some dude wants to rent you,” She told you. 

“No. I don’t do private rooms,” You replied without even looking back. You knew who she was. You weren’t the biggest fan. “I’m good, Mandy.”

“He asked specifically for you,” She added. “Offered a lotta money, too. Helluva lot more than we normally charge.”

You froze up at that. Initially, your first thought was to send her off a second time. Then, you thought of her running off with your money. 

“Is he one of them greasy, sleazy old guys?” You asked. It was wild, how quickly you perked up when you heard that. “Last guy was throwin’ himself onto me. I should’ve filed a police report.”

“Oh, stop your ‘bitchin,” The girl sighed. “He’s paying 200 just to see your ass.”

If you had a tail, it would have started wagging. 

What? A girl had bills to pay. “So he is a greasy old pervert.”

“No, actually. He’s a fine, young thing. Well, not young, but younger than most of the guys we usually get back here,” She trailed off in thought. You watched her body move in the corner of the mirror. “Sexy as hell. Serious, businessman type. Tall, blond, handsome, a jawline that could cut paper,” here, she bent over, leaning over you and muttering the next words into your ear, “I could always take him off your hands, y’know.”

“As if,” You replied. Spinning the chair back around, you got up. “Better not be expecting nothing extravagant. I’m considering this overtime.”

With a deep breath, standing in front of the cherry red door, your heart began to pound against you chest. It was some strange mixture of nerves and excitement you felt as you raised your hand to knock. 

Here goes nothing. You reached for the doorknob and entered the private room, turning back only to lock it behind you. 

“Special delivery!” you crooned, trying to embody a playful tone to mask the jittery feeling within. When you turned around to face the client, you were caught by surprise. 

Your wide eyes traced over a familiar silhouette – broad shoulders, perfectly-fitted, navy blue two-piece suit that clung to his large arms, and matching slacks that clung to his legs – his widespread, casual position hinted at sophistication. A pretty, sharp, angular face framed by neatly-cropped blond hair. A tasteful timepiece on his wrist caught your eye. 

Narrow eyes obscured by peculiar glasses, chiseled cheekbones and jawline. His blond hair – framing his apricot skin – was done up carefully, perfectly, sweeping over his head like a ray of sunlight. You recognized him by his signature scowl.

He came back for more?

You liked your lips, trying to play it cool (like you hadn’t been waiting for him to come back). “Oh, hey, it’s you again,” you said with a smirk. Strutting over to him, you cooed, “Couldn’t stay away?”

He’s so fucking hot.

Though his response wasn’t verbal, the pink hue that dusted his face was not lost on you. You swayed your hips from side to side. “Can you give me somethin’ to work with? I don’t usually do these rooms, you know.”

The devastatingly handsome man swallowed, fixing his gaze on the door – the one you had locked on the way in. As you worked your way between his legs, teasingly dragging your hands up and down your body, his gaze wandered back to you. Shamelessly, you reveled in the attention – studying his reaction.

You could smell his cologne from here – again – and, shit, it made your head spin all over again. The warm notes lingered beneath the collar of his dress shirt. Amber. Wood. Musk. Something dark?

“So I’ve heard,” The man replied, finally breaking his silence. His voice was a revelation – deep, mellow, and smooth, carrying a certain tone of weariness that seemed to add to his enigmatic charm. Charm? Yes, you supposed he charmed you.

He loosened his tie and undid the top button on his shirt to let some fresh air in. The action drew your attention to his neck, provoking you to take a moment to appreciate the details your coworker had emphasized: Tall, blond, with a jawline that could indeed cut paper.

You were wretched. You had to have been. This is so wrong.

“You seem tense,” You remark, making your second attempt at breaking the ice. “You’re new to the scene, aren’t you?”

The handsome stranger – Nanami, if you remembered correctly – licked his lips, drawing mindless shapes over the deep-toned fabric that covered his knee. “Is it that obvious?” he asks, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The movement did not go unnoticed.

“A little,” You huffed out a quiet laugh. “Do you want a dance? We could just sit and chat, too, if you want. I don’t mind. I know your type tend’ta like talking.”

You couldn’t control the way your eyes flitted down over his toned thighs – mind hazy with unwelcome thoughts. The temptation to crawl into his lap a second time was strong, but you reminded yourself of the situation – he was your roommate’s teacher, for fuck’s sake. Your roommate’s handsome… muscular… expensive-looking teacher… with a deep, sexy voice that you could hardly resist.

You must have been ovulating. That was the only excuse.

“I won’t make you put on a show for me,” Nobara’s professor trailed off, eyes distant, clearly lost in thought. He seemed to snap out of it after a moment, pretty brown eyes peering into yours – they looked so dark up close. “As crazy as it sounds, I only wanted to speak to you.”

Your sultry facade cracked a bit at that, surprised by the sudden turn of the conversation. From your experience, men usually came here with only one thing in mind. He wanted to talk… to you. Oh my god.

You nearly squealed. Clearing your throat and pressing your legs together, you turned to hide your flustered face from the older man. “Alright,” you said. “You have 30 minutes.”  Plopping down on the couch next to him, you threw your legs over his lap. “What’s your name, handsome stranger?”

You already knew his name. Still, to keep up appearances, you played coy with him. You knew that, reasonably, there was no reason you should be continuing to entertain him — financial commpensation aside, though you could always reimburse him. You should have turned back the moment you realized it was him.

Then again… he had come to see you. It wasn’t like he knew you were his student’s roommate, but that was besides the point. That alone was moral justification enough for you.

The stiff man had his eyes trained on the spot where your legs had been thrown haphazardly over his. Then, nervously, he answered, “Nanami. Kento.”

Kento. You liked that name. It rolled off the tongue real easy — a buttery smooth name for a man as composed as him.

“Nice to meet you Nanami… Kento,” You chipped, mimicking his prose. “Donetta DiVine. I’m sure you already knew that, though. Do you wanna start, or should I?”

Nanami Kento knitted his brows. “Start…?”

You rolled your eyes rather playfully, giving his leg a nudge with your heel. You had ditched the stage platforms for a smaller pair of stilettos. “What do you do for a living?” 

He licked his lips. After a brief pause, he answered, “I can’t really say, but I teach on the side.”

“Ooh— mysterious…” You grinned. Leaning into the couch, you braced your chin on your hand, staring into his eyes. It didn’t take much effort to play the role of the ‘interested’ siren like it normally did. Not with him. “You already know what I do,” You added, “You look tired.”

His brown eyes widened with surprise.

Shit, I overstepped.

You took your statement back quickly, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s not—“ He trailed off. Something in his harsh expression softened. “You’re right. Just the first person to notice.”

If your attraction to the man had been any more obvious, you would’ve been waving a sign around with his name on it.

“Really? You’ve got such tired eyes,” You continued anyway. You figured you would at least try to make the most of this half hour with him. “Wanna talk about it?”

He sighed, “Where would I even begin?”

“Your week?” You answered, making a rolling gesture with your spare hand. “How… how was it?”

He looked equal parts confused and intrigued by you, quirking a perfecftly arched brow before clearing his throat. “My week was alright. I started work again after taking a leave of absence for a few months.”

“No kidding…” You trailed off. It didn’t take much to make your interested tone seem real, as you felt nothing but the most genuine sense of interest while listening to him drone on in that deep, raspy voice of his. You could have listened to it for hours. “What happened?”

Something flashed in his eyes. It was quick, fleeting – you almost missed it. “Workplace injury,” He sighed. “If it’s alright, I’d rather not go into detail about it.”

This guy’s like a brick wall.

“Did you heal up okay?” You asked, eyes wide and prying.

He didn’t seem to mind you much. That was a good sign.

“Had to undergo some minor surgery but, yes, I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” He smiled, actually smiled, and it made your chest stir with something unfamiliar. He was devastatingly handsome – the kind of handsome you kept in a little locket in your pocket when you went to war, or something like that. “My bosses have been pressuring me to come back ever since I left. One superior of mine in particular… has been a nuisance. I was under the impression that sick leave was supposed to be a period of peace… but I guess I thought wrong.”

You laughed at his attempt at humor. It came easily to you. Too easily. “I know how you feel. I busted my ass a few months ago. Twisted my ankle real bad,” You raised your leg off of his lap, twirling your stiletto heel around in the air, cutting through it like a knife. “These things are deadly. Boss gave me a solid two days before he started blowing up my phone asking when I was going to be back. It’s like… can you let me live?”

He laughed, then – really laughed, the kind that made his chest rumble, head thrown back against the cushiony couch. And as he released the melodious sound that made your head spin, his eyes creased at the corners. The experience gap between the two you couldn’t have been more apparent. He was a grown man, hardened by years of trials and tribulations – a mysterious one, at that. And there you were, a naive little dancer with your legs strewn over his lap like he was a partner and not a client. He seemed so wise beyond his years, something only accentuated by the tiredness in his eyes. You longed to hear him drone on about his life a little longer, 30 minutes be damned.

“My superior and I actually went to highschool together. He’s been up my ass as long as I can remember,” He hummed, licking his lips, and you followed the path of his tongue as it wet the skin like a hungry feline.

“Which superior?” You asked, mindlessly picking at the fabric of the velour couch beneath you. “The one you were here with last time? With the white hair?”

When the man knit his brows together, you froze up. Shit. I just gave myself away.

There was a brief, tense pause, during which you tried to focus on the music playing from the speakers, the jazzy tune, the faint remnants of a song playing in the showroom outside and up the hall, the wallpaper – anything but him. 

“Yes, that would be him,” He answered, finally. He seemed to be… intrigued by you. Yes, that’s what it was – his half-lidded amber gaze lingered on your face for a moment too long. “You’re very perceptive.”

You cleared your throat. “So, this job of yours… do you like it?”

“I despise it,” He sighed, like he had been waiting his entire life to confess those words. “But, at least, I figure I’m doing something meaningful with my life. You could say I’m a professor on the side.”

I already know that, You thought. Still, he didn’t have to know you knew.

“It’s a demanding job, but I enjoy feeling like I’ve made a difference,” He continued on. “Unfortunately, after the incident, I had to take some time away from the kids to recover.”

“You seem to enjoy teaching,” You answered back, perching your chin on your hand against the back of the couch. 

“Sometimes,” He replied. “Other times, the work can be unbearable,” He looked up, then, pretty brown eyes on yours in a way that had your heart skipping more than a couple of beats. You could practically feel the way they burned right through your extroverted facade, saw past the layers of glitter and scanty clothes and deep into the abyss in your chest. See who you really were. 

It was him who turned to you, then, asking you, “What about you?”

“Me?” You asked, just to make sure you’d heard him correctly. A client? Caring about your experience at work? That was… dizzyingly rare. 

“Yes, you,” He reiterated with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “Do you enjoy working here?”

Do I…? You took a moment to consider your answer. You could lie to him – preserve the perfect, sexual image the women in your company were expected to uphold. That was always an option. But, the moment you peered into those all-knowing, tired eyes of his, you found that you didn’t have it in you to lie to him. No, not when he had been so honest with you.

No one’s ever asked me that before.

Before you could catch yourself, the words were already leaving your lips. “Not really, but it pays the bills.”

His eyes softened at that. He didn’t look the least bit upset by your words. If anything, he looked as if he had grown suddenly tender with a sense of understanding. Women didn’t often join your line of work. Not unless they were desperate for money. He seemed mature enough to realize that – to see right past the fantasy you were supposed to paint for him and peer into your eyes like windows into your soul. One look at him, and you knew he didn’t see you as a dancer.

He saw you as a person. As a woman.

You broke the moment with a hum, “Why don’t you keep telling me about your week?” You asked, changing the subject, shifting the conversation back into comfortable territory.

The rest of the half-hour with Nanami flew by like a fleeting dream. He spoke with a quiet ease, his voice low and steady, yet somehow captivating. He complained about the inefficiencies at work—endless meetings that led nowhere, piles of paperwork that seemed to multiply overnight, and colleagues who turned simple tasks into impossible challenges. Yet, when he talked about his students, something in his tone softened, revealing a warmth that made your chest ache. You found yourself asking questions, small ones at first, but each answer drew him out more. The way he spoke—measured, thoughtful, with just the faintest edge of weariness—made you want to listen forever. For someone who seemed so guarded, he had a surprising amount to say, and you realized how much you liked hearing him talk.

You didn’t even notice how much time had passed until a sharp knock interrupted the quiet cocoon of your conversation.

“Donnie? You okay in there? Your 30 was up ten minutes ago.” 

It was your coworker.

“I’m good!” You called back, swinging your legs off of Nanami’s lap, turning to him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I completely lost track of time.”

“No, it’s alright. I should have been checking my watch,” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, long fingers combing through the buzzed, blonde strands of his undercut like wind blowing through a field of wheat. Then, after glancing down at his watch, he stood up, cleared his throat, and straightened out his suit jacket. “Thank you for your time.”

You hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch, brows furrowed. “That’s it?”

You had half expected him to extend the time. The conversation was going so well, you had silently found yourself hoping that he would lean over and do something – place his strong hand on your thigh, brush his fingers up your arm, anything. No-touching policy be damned.

You would make an exception for him. Men that fine don’t just grow on trees.

So, trying your best to lure him back in, you kicked one leg over the other, crawling into a sexy pose on the couch. In the most sultry tone you could manage, you breathed, “Is that really all you wanted?”

Please ask me for a lapdance, You found yourself wishing internally. 

He paused, looking back at you like he wasn’t the least bit phased by the sexy pose or the outfit or… well, anything. “Yes, why?”

“Nothing, I don’t know, I just… You spent so much money tonight to be here,” You uttered, suddenly bashful when he was peering down at you like that – he was so much taller than you, a height gap that was only emphasized by your seated position on the couch below him. You imagined you would have to stand on the tips of your toes to be at eye level with his neck, maybe his chin. Mindlessly, you caressed the couch. “I figured you would have at least wanted a lap dance, or something.”

“I’m not going to make you do something that neither of us are interested in doing,” He said, sliding his hands down over his slacks to straighten out the creases that had formed in them where your legs had been resting only a moment earlier. “Sex is free. It’s rare to find someone who’s willing to listen.”

You sat there, stunned into silence, still in that sexy pose on the couch, your body frozen in the aftermath of his words. His calm, unbothered demeanor completely threw you off balance, leaving you scrambling to make sense of what had just happened. Men like him didn’t come in here looking for conversation. They came in here for fantasies, for attention, for touch. But not him. 

“Thank you for everything,” he said softly, bowing his head slightly in a gesture so gentlemanly it made your stomach twist. Then, without another word, he moved to the door, unlocking it with smooth precision. 

You didn’t even have time to gather yourself before he slipped out, leaving you sitting there in your sultry pose, legs crossed, mouth slightly open. The sound of the door closing behind him echoed in the room, final and undeniable.

You blinked, your mind racing, the moment replaying over and over in your head. Did I just get… emotionally blue-balled? 

The thought hit you like a ton of bricks, both incredulous and a little amused at how absurdly fitting it was. You flopped back against the couch, your sultry act forgotten, staring up at the ceiling as the jazzy tune from the speakers drifted lazily through the air.

For the first time, a client had left you feeling something you couldn’t quite put into words. You couldn’t decide if you were more annoyed, intrigued, or just completely thrown off your game.

All you knew was that you wanted more.

DARREN: Hey imu.

DARREN: U busy tn?

YOU: I’m working but I get out early. Y.

DARREN: let me pick u up after work

DARREN: maybe i can help you ease some of that stress.

Darren rolled off of you with a huff and an exhale, proud of himself. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the backside of his elbow, sighing, “That was great. Did you cum?”

“Yeah,” You liked straight through your teeth. Feeling vulnerable, you reached for your shirt and slipped it back on. There was a point in time where the two of you would sleep skin-to-skin after sex. A point in time long ago, of course, but you couldn’t help but reflect. Now, all that was left was a feeling of discomfort where the intimacy used to be. 

He flopped down onto the bed next to you, throwing his arm around your waist. Not moving a muscle, you trained your gaze on the ceiling above, hoping that maybe, if you spent enough time counting the dots in his popcorn ceiling, he would see that you did not, in fact, enjoy the experience. You doubted he would do anything to fix it even if he did know.

52, 53, 54.

You had been counting for the past five minutes – thirty seconds after he had grunted the words, “Let’s do missionary” into your ear before flipping you over. Truthfully, you hadn’t wanted to do missionary. That would mean that he could see you and, more importantly, that you had to look at him. So, to pass time and to avoid his gaze, you looked up at the ceiling, allowing yourself to be carried away by the tides of pleasure that his strokes gave you.

55, 56, 57.

He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling. “You smell like a man’s cologne.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I work at a strip club.”

With a groan, Darren rolled onto his back, finally putting a comfortable distance between you and him. “Don’t remind me. I’ve been telling you that you’re wasting your talents at a place like that.”

Your jaw tightened. There it was, the same old Darren: judgment wrapped in concern, but laced with the unspoken assumption that he knew what was best for you.

You slipped off the bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand. The cool floor against your bare feet helped ground you.

Unlocking your phone, you typed a message to Nobara, your roommate: 

Can you come get me? I’m at my ex’s.

The response came almost instantly: 

Girl, r u srs?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard before you replied: 

I’ll explain later, ik, just pls… I wanna gtfo of here.

Sliding the phone into the pocket of your hoodie, you turned back to Darren. He was staring at the ceiling now, one arm slung across his chest, his fingers idly tapping against his bicep. For a moment, you hesitated. The familiarity of this scene—him in his sweatpants, you in one of his old T-shirts—was a cruel reminder of how things used to be. But you weren’t that girl anymore.

“I think I should go,” you said, breaking the silence.

Darren’s head snapped toward you. “No, wait,” he said, sitting up. His hair was tousled, his expression almost pleading. “Please… I really want you to stay.”

You crossed your arms, keeping your distance. “Why?”

“Because…” He raked a hand through his hair, his voice quieter now. “I don’t know. I thought things were going good between us.”

You blinked, then let out a short, humorless laugh. “Things? Darren, I come here, we have sex, and then I leave. That’s it. That’s all this is.”

“Is that all I am to you?” His voice carried a tinge of desperation, his eyes searching yours.

You tilted your head, studying him. “Or maybe,” you said slowly, “you’re asking if there’s any chance of us getting back together.”

“Yeah.” His voice cracked slightly, and he swallowed hard. “Is there?”

You laughed again, colder this time, shaking your head. “No. There isn’t.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was sharp. “That’s not fair. I’ve done so much for you—”

“Done so much?” Your voice rose, and you stepped closer, anger bubbling to the surface. “You don’t give me shit but dick and attitude, Darren.”

He flinched, but you didn’t stop. “You wanna know what’s not fair? The fact that you went and knocked me up and then forced me to have an abortion. Where the hell were you during that, huh? Seeing as you’ve done so much for me?”

He sat frozen, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. His eyes darted toward the floor, guilt pooling in their depths.

“And you wanna know what’s really unfair?” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. The words spilled out like a flood you couldn’t contain. “The fact that you fucking cheated on me when I needed you the most. That’s what’s not fair, Darren.”

Darren stared at you, his face contorted with frustration. “That’s not fucking fair,” he snapped, his voice rising.  

“Oh, fuck you, Darren,” you shot back, your hands trembling as you pointed at him. “What else do I have to do to show you I’m done? What else do I have to say?”  

“I’m trying!” he yelled, stepping closer. “I’ve been fucking trying! But nothing I do is ever good enough for you, is it? You’re so goddamn impossible!”  

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “You call this trying? You call cheating, lying, and gaslighting me trying?”  

“God, you’re such a fucking idiot,” he spat, his words sharp enough to cut. “You act like you’re perfect, like you’ve never made a mistake in your goddamn life.”  

“I’m not perfect, Darren,” you hissed, stepping forward, your voice shaking with anger. “But at least I own my shit. At least I don’t treat the people I love like they’re disposable!”  

“Oh?” he scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “You think you’re so much better than me? You’re the one who keeps coming back. So what does that make you, huh?”  

The room was thick with tension, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then he muttered under his breath, “Pathetic.”  

Your blood boiled. “What did you just say?”  

“You heard me,” he said, his tone dripping with venom.  

“Fuck you, Darren!” you screamed, shoving him hard against the chest.  

His expression darkened. “You don’t get to do that,” he snarled.  

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist and pushed you away. The force of it sent you stumbling back, and you hit the edge of the dresser, pain shooting up your arm as you fell to the floor.  

“Wait, I…” His face shifted, panic flickering in his eyes. He took a step toward you, his hand outstretched.  

You scrambled to your feet, holding your arm where it throbbed. “You know what? I’m done.” Your voice was quieter now, but no less firm. “I’m done, Darren.”  

“Wait—”  

“No!” you shouted, cutting him off. “Go fuck yourself!”  

“Please,” he said, his voice cracking. “Don’t let us go. We had something special. You know that.”  

You stared at him, disbelief flooding your chest. Then you laughed—a cruel, hollow sound. “If you thought this was anything more than sex, then you’re the fucking idiot.”  

He opened his mouth to argue, but you were already grabbing your stiletto boots from the floor.  

“We can make it work,” he said desperately, following you as you stormed out of his apartment.  

“Make it work?” you echoed, spinning around to face him as you reached his car. “Make it work?” You hefted one of your boots in your hand. “Make this fucking work!”  

Before he could respond, you hurled the boot at his car window. The glass shattered on impact, the sound ringing out like a scream in the still night.  

The car alarm blared, its shrill wailing cutting through the silence. Darren stood frozen, his mouth agape.  

“Shit,” he muttered, rushing toward the car.  

You grabbed your other boot and slung it over your shoulder. “Fix that, asshole!” you yelled as you walked away, the sound of the alarm trailing behind you.  

“Her!” Darren called after you, but you didn’t turn around.  

You kept walking, the cold air biting at your skin, the adrenaline coursing through you keeping you upright. Your arm throbbed where you’d hit it, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t look back.  

You made it about halfway home before the exhaustion hit you like a freight train. Your legs wobbled, and you collapsed onto the curb, cradling your arm as the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over.  

Your phone buzzed weakly in your pocket. Nobara’s name lit up the screen.  

“Where the hell are you?” she demanded as you answered, her voice sharp but tinged with worry.  

You gave her your location, your words slurred with exhaustion and pain. “I can’t— I just can’t walk anymore.”  

“Stay put,” she said firmly. “I’m coming to get you.”  

By the time her car pulled up, you were slumped against a lamppost, your eyes half-closed. Nobara jumped out, wrapping her jacket around your shoulders as she helped you to your feet.  

“What the hell happened?” she asked, her tone softer now.  

You shook your head, too drained to explain. “I’m hungry. I’ll tell you later.”  

“Let’s stop and get you something to eat,” She didn’t press further, guiding you into the car. As the city lights blurred past, you stared out the window, the events of the night replaying in your mind like a bad dream.  

The car was warm, the quiet hum of the heater and the golden glow of streetlights spilling through the windshield easing the tension in your chest. You cradled your injured arm as Nobara maneuvered through the drive-thru, shooting you occasional glances.  

“You want the usual?” she asked as she pulled up to the intercom.  

“Yeah. Large fries, nuggets, and a Coke,” you murmured, leaning your head back against the seat.  

She placed the order, and soon you were pulling into a parking spot under the dim glow of the lot’s overhead lights. The smell of greasy goodness filled the car as she handed you the bag, cracking open a box of nuggets for herself.  

“So,” she said, dipping a nugget into a cup of barbecue sauce. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened back there, or do I just have to assume you went full-on ‘Carrie’ at prom?”  

You snorted, the first genuine laugh you’d had all night. “Something like that.”  

“Well, shit.” She popped the nugget into her mouth. “Guess I missed a show.”  

You sighed, staring at the fries in your lap. “It’s over. For real this time.”  

“Good,” Nobara said firmly. “That guy was a walking red flag.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Speaking of red flags…” You smirked as an idea popped into your head. “You’ll never believe what happened at work today.”  

Her eyes narrowed as she dunked another nugget. “Oh, this should be good. Spill.”  

You leaned back, a grin playing on your lips. “I got booked for a private room.”  

Nobara froze mid-bite. “I thought you didn’t do those?”  

“I don’t,” you said, shrugging. “But they offered me a shit ton of money. Guess who it was.”  

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Who?”  

You couldn’t help but draw it out for dramatic effect. “Your teacher.”  

Her jaw dropped, and the nugget in her hand fell back into the box. “No way, Bitch.”  

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face.  

“What did he want? Is he, like, a total pervert or something?”  

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, actually. He just wanted someone to talk to.”  

Nobara blinked, clearly baffled. “Huh.”  

“I know, right?” you said, grabbing a nugget. “Easiest money I’ve ever made.”  

“Damn,” she muttered, chewing thoughtfully. “I never took him as the emotional type.”  

“Don’t go telling your friends, though,” you warned, wagging a finger at her. “He told me some pretty heavy shit.”  

Nobara tensed, her expression flickering with something you didn’t catch as you reached for your Coke. “Like what?”  

You laughed, shaking your head. “Like hell if I’d tell you.”  

“Oh, come on!” she said, pouting dramatically. “I won’t tell anyone!”  

You smirked, leaning back in your seat. “I’m not risking it. Client confidentiality or whatever.”  

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” she groaned, but there was a smile tugging at her lips.  

You both sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the car filled with the sound of crinkling wrappers and occasional laughter.  

“Hey,” Nobara said suddenly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “You’re okay, right?”  

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I think I will be.”  

She smiled, a small, genuine one. “Good. ‘Cause if you ever go back to that asshole, I’m slashing his tires.”  

You laughed, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. “Deal.”  

As you both dug into the last of the nuggets, the weight of the night seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of greasy food and a friend who always had your back.

a/n: and there she is! my first update in like a year lol. lmk what you thought! tell me what you would like to see in the story, who knows, i might be able to incorporate it in! Thank you all for your lovely comments. I loveee reading them.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. I can't find the artist, but if you know them pls dm for credits!!! please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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wanna join the taglist? | my kinda love; chapter index

[gaymurdersalad]

David, do you have any opinions on Henry? Legacy seems to be…kind of obsessed with him.

> Pfft— Do I have any opinions on Henry!? Oh, Asker, yer funny! That’s hilarious.

> Uh, duh. Absolutely. Do I have any opinions on my own father? That’s silly…

> I only knew him as the kindest, smartest, lovable old man in the world. Jesus, the English language can’t even fit how I feel about him— he transcends language, his existence is that of a…— I dunno about a god, but damn, did he do a lot of good for us. As a humanity. A lotta good for me, too, as his son. That goddamn circus was like no other. The way people treated him for just trynna recreate some childhood magic was fuckin’ reprehensible. The way he constructed those robots in Fredbear’s, gah, he tried to do it all again and people still gave him shit for it! Why? Are people really that afraid to accept good into their lives? Henry’s too good to be true, Askers, that’s why people don’t seem to like him. I see, though, I see him for who he is, and I accept him. I love him. Ain’t nobody will ever convince me not to, nobody could even fathom to show me otherwise.

> I miss him. Every day, I wake up and there’s a Henry-shaped hole in my… uhh, I’d say heart, but Y’know.

> I’m so glad I let Sportsy— Err, Legacy— into the whole Henry thing. I can tell he’s taken quite a liking to him, at least from what I’ve told him. Those long nights in Bakersfield and Vegas, lounging around on some sort of illegal substance or another, tellin’ him all about what Henry’s done for me, it meant… Uh, it meant a lot to me that Legacy was willin’ to listen. Willin’ to engage. Encourage me, and predominantly, take matters into his own hands, that proactive bastard. If ya couldn’t tell, he’s kinda the one running the show around here. I’m not mad. I’m just glad I’ve found a soulmate who values a legacy like… Legacy. Heh heh.

> … Y’know… Somethin’ strange, though…

> … I caught a glimpse of a pink feller though the glass of Legacy’s arcade machine in the workshop. It didn’t look like Henry at all, but the hue was pretty damn familiar. Had some weird… discoloration on its hair, too— and glasses. Henry ain’t wear no damn glasses, nor is he dyein’ his fuckin’ tips hot pink. Not to mention how short that fucker’s hair was! The Henry I know had some killer locks, spillin’ over his shoulders all elegant and shit. That bein’ said, I haven’t asked Legacy about this. He gets cagey about that damn machine, I dunno why. Bastard’s slippin’ in and out so much you think he’d throw me a bone, but… No. No, I respect his privacy.

> … Just interestin’ to think about, I s’pose.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Cater, Ruggie: The Secret in a Smile

Caycay, bestie… I am so sorry that SSR Crowley stole your spotlight 😭 (Is that why Cater looks so Mean Girls in his groovy... He's seeking petty revenge against Crowley/j)

Some cute stuff from the vignettes that I wasn't able to include in this fic: Cater makes a reference to TsumTsums! He mentions being into this mobile game with cute round creatures. Cater also tells a story about a 5-year old girl giving him a flower after his club's performance at a cultural festival (omg, do they mean the one in book 5?!). Ruggie teases him and says Cater must have been that little girl's first crush 😂

A Tale as Old as Time.

“Ne, ne, Ruggie-kun! Check this one out~ It's all the way from the Queendom of Roses!"

Cater jabbed a thumb at a painting of a young blonde girl dressed in a modest sky blue frock and apron, a small black bow in her hair. She couldn’t have been older than 10 years of age, still petite enough to squish inside a glass bottle with a narrow neck. The bottled child was adrift in a sudsy sea, her face frozen in an expression of slight worry.

Ruggie took one look at the artwork, then wrinkled his nose. “Sure sucks to be in her shoes. What’s this even supposed to show us, anyway? Doesn’t make a whole lotta sense to me.”

"Not a lot from the Queendom does if you aren't already familiar with its topsy-turvy stories~" Cater placed a hand on his hip and leaned forward, grinning. "This one is pretty popular! It's about a girl that wants an audience with the Queen of Hearts. She gets lost on the journey there, meets strange people and experiences even stranger things on the way. This is just one leg of that trip!"

"Wouldn’t the castle be further inland? How'd she end up in the middle of the ocean?"

“It’s about the perspective of the shot.” Cater formed a frame with his hands, catching his underclassman in it. He pulled back, creating the illusion of sizing Ruggie down. “She drank this bottled liquid she found and that shrank her down—so really, the ocean isn’t that big.”

A grimace.

“Man, talk about no sense of self preservation. She just chugged an unlabeled bottle without a second thought. Must’ve been real desperate.” Ruggie paused. “Weeeell, not like I’m one to talk about being desperate. You really can’t afford to be picky sometimes. If it fills your stomach, it fills your stomach.”

“You’d drink it too, huh… I don’t think I could do that. I’d at least want to see how the menu describes it before I order—though I guess it also depends on how ‘cammable the drink is! And hey, think about all the cool pics I could grab from a worm's eye point of view!”

"Heh, you don't seem too pressed about living life as an ant."

"Cay-kun likes to look on the bright side of things!" he declared with a wink and a peace sign. "The lost girl... she worried so much about finding her destination, she forgets to stop and smell the roses. She overlooks a lot of the fun people she could have spent time with."

Hopping from place to place, missed people—familiar elements, resurfacing a childhood of being uprooted and dragged about. Never to fully settle.

A tea party here, a brief convo there. Just enough to keep him placated, but not enough to see beyond the surface of the looking glass.

His curiosity still left wanting.

She got into so much trouble, but didn't have any real friends to come and help her.

Sadness tugged at his heartstrings, but Cater's smile didn’t waver.

"... I can’t help but kinda pity the poor thing," he said quietly. Then, brightening in the next moment, "All her issues could've been avoided if she just looked before she leapt and made some connections."

“Yeah, she definitely should’ve played smarter, not harder. Maybe if she kissed up to the locals, they’d have come to her rescue." Ruggie shrugged. "It works for me and Leona-san."

“Right? A smile goes a long way to getting what you want!” Cater poked the corners of his mouth. “You totes get me.”

“Cuz it takes a trickster to know another one on sight.”

"Wow, it sounds so mean when you put it like that. We're not tricksters, we just know how to use our smiles to problem-solve~"

"Giving a word a fresh coat of paint doesn't make it any less shady. At least be honest with yourself," the hyena smirked.

“Eeeh, I’m always honest!”

They shared a laugh—Ruggie, a snicker. Cater, lighter, more bubbly, like a carbonated mystery drink. When the effervescence died down, he cast another glance at the painting.

Too big for her small world of the sea, too small for the big world that loomed beyond it. Trapped within glass walls. Curled into herself in her delicate chambers.

Her perspective and his, one and the same.

Poor thing, poor thing, poor thing.

Cater summoned his strength and bore the full brunt of his smile.

“I’m sure she’ll find what she’s looking for… one day.”

[casual-praxis]

"Praxis stop making AU's only to abandon the concept immediately" challenge: Failed.

Here's a wip of something I probably won't actually finish since the concept is so far outside Four Swords it's basically its own thing.

I've been listening to Tales from the Gas Station again and it got me wonderin' how I could throw the Four Swords boys into a similar scenario, and somehow we got this concept from it, despite having no basis in either media.

Vio wouldn't even be the protagonist technically--just a recurring secondary character who turns out to be only slightly better than the actual antagonists.

He also dies at the end of everything, so there's that too.

More rambling below the cut for anyone interested. It turned into a mini-fic on accident, whoops.

From what I managed to cobble together while staring into the oven at work and giving myself an eye-strain headache, the actual "main character" is Blue, and they all work at either a very slow gas station or a very slow food establishment.

There's a weird cornfield right behind the building that's kinda funky if you look at it wrong sometimes, but that's pretty normal for their town. Lotta strange things in that place. Weird happenings all around.

So obviously since business is basically a graveyard all the time, the best way to pass the time would be to dare someone to go into that weird af cornfield, right? Yeah, makes sense. Which is why Blue nominated Red.

Of course, Red doesn't want to go in the weird cornfield--it's almost dark out, and the corn smells strange, and what if he gets lost, and, and, and--Blue doesn't care. Get in the cornfield, Red.

And so Red goes. And he's gone. And he's gone. And, huh, it's been an hour. Did he actually get...oh, nope there he is.

Red returns, but he's acting a little...weird. After being in the weird cornfield. Probably not connected in any way. But just to make sure, Blue asks if Vio's also getting weirded out by weird Red.

"That's not Red," Vio insists, but that's stupid. Vio's being stupid, and Blue tells him as much.

"What were you even expecting?" Something funny, probably. Not...whatever this was. It was like Red had found a twelve-pack of five-hour energy drinks out in the maze and decided to chug the whole dozen.

"So he'd be dead."

He's not dead! He's probably just...spooked stupid, or something. He'll be normal Red again tomorrow. Yeah. Once the nerves wear off, he'll stop being so...hyped about life?

"Huh, funny that. Guess what rhymes with Red."

Shut the fuck up, Vio.

And so, the wait for normal Red's return begins.

A day passes; still being weird. Another day goes by. Not much difference. Soon, a week has passed, and Weird Red seems to be here to stay.

Honestly, Blue is not vibing.

Sure, Normal Red kinda pissed him off, but at least he was genuine! ...probably. He was kind, at least. Not this... saccharine, doe-eyed...thing pretending to be Red. It wasn't even doing a good job at it! Red would never forget to water the fake plant in the window! He loves that stupid piece of plastic like only an overly empathic idiot could.

Vio was right. They had a corn demon among them or some shit. The real Red was probably still wandering in circles out in the cornfield, he had to be. And since it was kinda, sorta...maybe Blue's fault that Red was lost, he should probably be the one to go looking for him.

It was a little strange how the fake Red seemed to disappear after Blue told Vio his plans, but so long as he didn't get ambushed by the thing out in the field, he was golden. Or, well, he was Blue, but you get the point.

With that in mind, he bravely entered the weird cornfield on his lunch break. Because surely, Red was just a little lost and not...

Oh fuck.

"Wonderful." A cold hand grips the side of his face, dragging his reluctant gaze away from the mangled... His vision blurs, barely making out the familiar silhouette of-

"You found the body."

Vio.

Why was-?

"It's so sad," Vio intones, tightening his hold as Blue resists. "The guilt must be eating you alive, huh? This was your idea, you know."

What-

"How sad," he repeats, as if attempting to empathize. "You made a mistake, but it's okay. I've already taken care of the doppelganger."

An unnaturally purple fluid drips from the corner of Vio's mouth as he speaks, nearly iridescent in the evening light. Just the sight of it is enough to activate Blue's fight or flight response, but despite his struggling, Vio's grip doesn't falter.

"I can repair the rest, too, if only you forget this ever happened." Vio smiles, disarming and kind.

It doesn't reach his eyes.

Blue's mind blanks. The bitter taste of...something burns his throat. He tries to remember what it was he last ate, but he can't seem to think straight anymore. What was he doing again? He can't seem to remember, and-

Blue opens his eyes.

Red is staring at him in obvious concern.

Apparently, he'd zoned out in the breakroom again. Weird. He's been doing that a lot lately for some reason. Oh well. He couldn't afford health care, so that issue was just going to have to sort itself out.

He decides to spend the rest of his break trying to get that gross bitter flavor out of his mouth, while Red goes to water that fake plant he still hasn't realized is plastic.

All is as usual in their weird ass town.

Then again, Blue can't really remember a time when it wasn't weird. Like seriously, who planted a cornfield behind their store? It never seemed to die or go out of season...super fuckin' weird.

Maybe he should go poking around in there one day--er, actually, something about that idea just made the bad taste worse. Yuck. Maybe not.

--

This was not supposed to read like a fanfic but that's just how it ended up manifesting, my bad.

Here's some rapid-fire notes to make this a little more coherent:

+ Blue (and Green, though he didn't appear here) both tend to ignore anything supernatural that occurs. Both of them have had their memories altered by Vio on several occasions, but only because they keep winding up in situations that require it due to brushing off the signs.

+ Vio is a spider demon inhabiting this weird little town because of the sheer number of supernatural happenings. The way demons operate here is a little strange, they're constantly seeking out other supernatural beings to kill and consume their souls for power. This town is basically just Vio's territory at this point, enter at your own risk.

No one knows he's a demon, and he's constantly pushing the limits just to see when someone'll notice. Very frequently he'll say something along the lines of, "I'm completely normal" or "I'm human" mostly unprompted.

His saliva contains venom, of which can be used to erase the memories of anyone who gets it in their body somehow. The amount of memory lost depends on the dose, but Vio never ends up needing to erase more than a few days at most. He usually just spits on his fingers and shoves them in someones mouth to administer. (If he tried hard enough, he could neutralize the effects, but he doesn't have a reason to. For now.)

+ Red actually did die here. No amount of memory manipulation was going to undo that. Vio was still able to bring him back, but he's not really human anymore. His soul basically belongs to Vio now, but seeing as Vio wants him around, he allows Red to remain as some kind of will-o'-the-wisp given human form. Red does know Vio is a demon because of this, but he isn't going to say anything.

If Vio were to die and his was consumed by another demon, Red would die as well. So it's a good thing Vio's soul isn't consumed when he dies. :)

+ Shadow shows up in town at some point and starts working at the same store as the others. He's there under the orders of Vaati, but mostly he just wants to fight Vio. They have history, though it differs depending on who you ask.

After befriending everyone, he decides to go against Vaati, who's goal is to take the town as his territory to reap the benefits. This culminates in a massive fight between the minor supernaturals and Vaati's forces, and Shadow and Vio vs Vaati himself.

They manage to defeat him, but in one last bid to take Shadow down with him, Vaati lashes out with the last of his power, hurtling a sharp piece of debris from the battlefield at a weakened Shadow. Vio intercepts it, because of course, and though he's able to stop most of it's momentum, he's still down two of his mechanical spider legs, and it pierces through his weak point (chest gem) despite the other two.

There's a brief moment where they make eye contact, kinda just in disbelief, before Vio's physical form dissolves and all that's left is his purple soul. Shadow has to fight his natural instinct to consume it for power, and instead hold it gently as he returns to the others to let them know Vaati was gone now, his soul shattered and scattered to the wind.

+ I have no idea if any romantic relationships would be present here, but at the very least Blue and Red are soft for each other in some way (post cornfield). Shadow's feelings for Vio definitely aren't straight, though Vio's feelings are a mystery even to him. And Green's around here somewhere. Zelda too.

All of this was thought up in the span of like two hours so it's not very coherent, but it's what I've got so I offer it to y'all in place of actual cohesion.

Oh, also Vio's probably going to get revived. Shadow gets to be the one doing the resurrecting for once. Just gotta find those Vaati soul shards and shove them into Vio's. I'm sure it'll work out fine.

[snipsper]

ULTRAKIIIIIILL DAYCARE ATTENDAAAANT

Close-ups!!

Plus an extra practice Sun in the margins of my bio nb

I’m not sure where I’m gonna take this lads, I just wanted to practice drawing V1 and then it became Sun and Moon as the prototype V models from Ultrakill. Now I’ve got two (maybe three) killer robots fueled only by the power of fresh blood. These designs may change over time if I ever polish them up and make new additions!! But this was a lotta fun!! They’re rlly getting me outta my comfort zone with new things (I couldn’t even fcking draw anything like this before like whuh)

,,and maybe I’m contemplating on adding a reader kind of thing where you’re either a resident of Hell or an archangel kinda like Gabriel, but it’s more a rivalry-turned-relationship (enemies to friends(to lovers)) that comes from power death-matches you all participate in and it blossoms from the respect on one another’s skills as you best each other in every fight. Which, I still need to concept because, I’m tired and my wrist hurts

Me thinks I have a weird thing for love in strange places and among unlikely circumstances,, staring at my other wips (that’s yet to come to light cause I wanna work on em properly,,)

So yeah! Bye! See you soon!

[moraysoiree]

homesick

Just my idea of what it feels like to be far away from home.

characters: Floyd Leech x gn!reader (platonic, could be read as romantic), mentions of Jade and Azul word count: 1134

Ramshackle dorm prefect’s life was in no sense easy. Sitting through classes and thinking how you can’t even put all this knowledge to good use because of your ‘magiclessness’ was, for lack of a better term, pure torture. Thank god the classes ended, finally granting you some freedom to wander off in hopes to lift your spirits by hanging out with one of the strange people that were in abundance here.

To your glee, on the way to the first floor you noticed a familiar figure on a terrace just a flight of stairs below: one of the eel guys was standing there, leaning against the guardrail with slumped shoulders. Given the idleness, figuring his current mood was no big feat. The chance was worth taking, though.

‘FLOOOOYD!!’ you started skipping down excitedly, not even bothering to get to the floor and jumping off the middle right onto the unsuspecting victim. ‘Shrimpie!’ wide-eyed, Floyd still managed to catch the falling anvil and laughed, spinning from the momentum. ‘Ye gonna kill us one day,’ he grumbled. ‘I wish I could kill you that easily,’ you pinched his cheeks, causing the displeased eel to click his teeth in a mock threat. ‘A point. You little fishies, on the other hand…’ he trailed off. Both went on to lean onto the banisters, laziness afloat in the sunny spring air. The mood wasn’t as bad as expected. Or, rather, improved rapidly, for that matter. ‘Sup with the classes,’ you tugged on the lilac ribbon hanging from his forearm. ‘Skipping, huh? What would Azul say?!’ you covered your mouth, appearing to be scandalized. Theatrical jests usually amused him, but not today for some reason. Or was it Azul’s name that got on his nerves? Either way, Floyd wasn’t really in the mood for talking, so the clue was taken and both stared off into the distance silently. And was there a lot to stare at, as college’s balconies had the best view onto the sharp cliffs, mercilessly slicing the rumbling waves into white foam.

Something occurred to you, and you asked, fidgeting with the very same ribbon still: ‘Say, don’t you ever get homesick?’. Floyd tore his eyes off the sea and gave you a thoughtful glance, ‘Mm-hhm… not really. There are a lot of things on land. I think Jade got it worse’. ‘Jade?! How come?’ It was hard to believe that Jade, who navigated human society better than the majority of humans, was, in fact, facing some trouble adapting. ‘S’ not like he doesn’t love it here, too, I mean. But y’know how he goes to wander by himself and chew on his plants or whareva-you-call-it. That’s different from me. Gets melancholic ‘nd all.’ Floyd sighed and stretched, crossing arms behind his head. ‘And you don’t? Like ever’. ‘Don’t think so? Lotta interesting things just keep happening around. This school is kinda special tho. Many fishies to squeeze, and jumping right into my jaws, too,’ he shut his eyes in delight, but his general expression shifted into something more sinister, something ascending from the murky depths, prowling and lurking. ‘Kinda like home. Ya kno’ it’s crazy down there. You can never stop or rest. Unless you wanna be eaten, ‘course. Same here,’ he waved at the Night Raven College’s walls. ‘So your bloodlust is what keeps you going? Should’ve known better,’ you scoffed, and Floyd rolled his eyes. ‘Mean! I like many of your things, like clothes, and phones, and the strange food you have. S’ not like I only care about beatin’ up some krill,’ you eyed his messy uniform doubtfully and pondered whether the eel really liked clothes as much as he claimed to.

‘But you’re like Jade, aren’t you, little Shrimp?’ Floyd snapped you from your thoughts forcefully, and you noticed he was staring at you sharply. ‘You get those sour moods and sigh a lot’. Look who’s talking about moods!? But he was right, although it came as a surprise that such things didn’t escape him. He’d always seemed too caught up in his own emotions. Or was it precisely because of it that Floyd had noticed the way his friend was a bit too quiet on one day and a tad too distant on the other... ‘I love you all, but I didn’t really choose to be here, and I don’t even know if there’s a way to go back. Even if there is, will I survive with people overblotting left and right and making it everyone’s problem?!’ Floyd laughed. ‘Nothing to laugh about in my life’, you sighed. ‘You would be shocked how hard it is to live without the little things, like my favourite songs, or the trinkets I’d collected, or the bakeries I’d always visited’. He was listening silently, letting you get it all off your chest. ‘I had friends back home, too. Will I ever see them again? Do they miss me, I wonder.. Maybe I died in my world and got isekai’d here so there’s not really a place for me to return to at all?!’ Floyd scrunched his face up at your outburst. ‘Now you sound just like Firefly Squid.’ Then, however, his expression became serious. ‘You know, Shrimpie. There are a lot of things in this world that are out of our control. You can have a down-to-the-minute detailed plan, covering the next forty years, but what use will it be if a shark gobbles you up tomorrow? You should value the ‘now’, or ya risking to miss all the fun n’ regret it later,’ his hand ruffled your hair. ‘I get that it ain’t easy for ya to be all gung-ho about it all the time, but that kind of thinking is just a waste. Say what, how ‘bout we go make Crowley get his game up with your homeworld instead? I can squeeze him real tight if ya wanna.’ You thought about it for a solid moment, seriously considering the offer. ‘I’m good. Spare the unfortunate soul, he’s got his plate served to him from people throwing hands last week’. ‘And who’s to thank for that ya think?’ Oh. Of course. ‘What a spectacular friend I have, rushing to avenge me before I even ask!’ The phrase might have been a joke, but you put your genuine gratitude for the so much needed reassurance into it. To that display of emotions, Floyd’s eyes glinted mischievously. ‘So you saying you owe me one?’ You regretted your choice of words instantly. ‘Come ooon, ain’t gonna eat ya, Shrimpie. Not yet, anyway. Speaking of food… What a rad way to repay me, huh?’ ‘Mostro Lounge?’ Floyd groaned. ‘Heell naaah if I see Azul today I’ll punch smn. Hard.’ So it WAS about Azul, in the end. ‘Canteen it is then. Takoyaki?’ ‘Ya know me best, Shrimpie.’

[kagebros]

Saying this in good faith but doesn't the whole tracing fiasco get to you somewhat? I follow a bunch of artists with huge followings over on twitter and the vast majority of them has subtweeted you atleast once this past month alone. It's even extended to bluesky. Are you OK?? Genuinely. I saw that you tweeted about coralus, and while I'm glad someone finally did I think it's best if you lay low. I don't think most people are aware, but most industry professionals are proship and loli-shocons :/

Hey! First off ty for your concern, I'm genuinely doing fine/ok. I don't really spend a ton of time on social media atp because I have a job that requires most of my attention and I have irl issues that I focus on more than... online drama atp which I think everyone should do imo lol. I kinda just post opinions/art and then leave if that makes sense. Yeah, it sucks also how many industry professionals are. Weirdos but I do think people have a right to know. Honestly I am kinda laying low atp and haven't really received a lotta hatred/harassment cus I kinda just mute notifs for some things I make lmao and just go about my day.

I'm a little disappointed to hear how much I'm being subtweeted, I don't follow these artists or have them blocked/muted cus A) I'm not fond of their opinions or B) I just don't like the content they make and I just curate my online experience etc etc. The fact that it's still going on? And also that they're. Tweeting about this to huge followings is a bit irresponsible imo especially since I'd assume a lot of these guys took everything at face value rather than learning both sides of the story or delving deeper into it (ie the person who made the post being good friends with an AI artist which is very ??? and kinda makes the whole callout fall apart but Idk). Again, I saw through a lot of it at the beginning which is why I'm not. Too bothered by it.

And I have a feeling a lot of these guys are people that already disliked me and have more of a reason to beat down on me (which is. Strange to say the least since my following isn't even that large.) I doubt they've seen my efforts of posting my speedpaints/processes more often to showcase my skills and whatnot because again they took it at face value and left it as that. I don't really care or want them to reach out to me since my view of them and their view of me is already negative and I have no intention of fixing relations with someone I barely know and assumed shit about me. And are willing to subtweet me to a large mass following lol.

However I haven't really been that affected. Despite that whole fiasco being a stain on my name and caused me a LOT of mental anguish especially in the first couple months it was happening, I've actually received a lot of support from friends, fellow artists, and people who enjoy my art. Like people from Artist Alley even came up to me irl in Baltimore to be like 'hey what you're going through is bullshit'. And I think having that support system definitely helped a lot which is why I still tabled in LA and I'll be tabling in Chicago as well ^^ I'm still gonna be working on my art cus I am still passionate about it, I haven't stopped drawing since that whole thing and will continue to make art.

I just have a TON of projects with my animated short film I'm helping direct/produce, webcomic soon to be launched, screenplays that need to be written and submitted to competitions... I'm really busy lol. And honestly I'm focusing on those more than what people have to say about me online. Hopefully that answers it! TLDR tho I'm ok and I'm honestly just working on my film career.

[fictionkinfessions]

Man y’know, I used to date A Lot of people who kinned from the same source as me. Like it was a whole thing. And we made it into this whole like, romantic thing of “ohhhh we would find each other in every universe” but the truth is it kinda sucked bad? Because it’s like hey what the hell, how come this used to work and now it doesn’t?

And the answer is obviously, your kin lives aren’t the same as your present life, and so you aren’t the exact same person, and neither are they, and sometimes they also just suck ass in a way they didn’t before. Just, a lotta small things.

And then I broke up with all like seven of them (this was a poly situation) and there is a strange sense of freedom about it. It’s like, I’m done. You wasted entire lives of mine and I’m not letting you waste this one. I’m gonna keep the good memories but you’re not really helping me gain new ones, so. Fuck off and fuck you, am I right guys?

Anyways shoutout to kin relationships that don’t work out and aren’t good for us. Don’t forget to live your present life in a way that makes you happy, guys. This goes for even just like, staying friends, and all. Don’t be afraid to just have like kin life exes.

And to all of us who get divorced across literal lifetimes: it’s fine and it happens and you’re loved regardless. Mwah <3

✉

[mistermistyyy]

Wano Kuni Saga (manga) - Initial Thoughts

Act I - 8/10

Act I worked so well for me, because it felt like such a perfect, simple arc like we saw in the East Blue days. Luffy is introduced to a new land, makes a good friend, decides on how he'll help them, and causes a ruckus. It feels so funny in contrast to the rest of the saga. It's such a quaint opening to such a massive stretch of the series, but damn, did it work for me.

Act II - 6/10

Act II is about the point where a lot of my problems begin to crop up. I will say, though, the stuff having to do with Toko and the Smile Fruits were great, and to a lesser extent the stuff with Kid and Killer was also good. Now, this is where my issues start. There are so many goddamn characters in this arc, it honestly became hard to keep track of. I felt like this arc was just so overstuffed with a gigantic ensemble. I dunno, maybe I'm just not a fan of stories that build up to full scale war as much as others. It felt like, at a certain point, they became numbers. Here is also where I develop my issues with the villains. I liked Big Mom, but I really didn't know how to feel about her coming back. And Kaido... I think *some* of his traits are interesting, but on the whole, he is the villain for a whole 150 chapters and yet he feels so much less enjoyable, interesting, or original than, say Crocodile, who was only really the villain for like 60 chapters. (Also this isn't really as big of an issue, and it kinda comes in during Act III, but why did Cat Viper get to be the one to get the focus after Pedro's death? Shouldn't that be Carrot?) It benefits from having a lotta the stuff I like from One Piece, because this arc just kinda flopped in many other ways.

Act III: The Raid On Onigashima - 7/10

I feel so strangely about this one because it simultaneously contains some of my favorite moments in all of One Piece and some of the longest stretches of boredom. This section of the saga is a whole 100 chapters of them storming Kaido's stronghold. And it kind of becomes super repetitive. Each Straw Hat gets their own villain and we have to go through each of their fights one after the other. And it doesn't help that some were better than others. While Zoro and Sanji got great battles, Chopper gets very little, Usopp's felt like a downgrade from Dressrosa, and Robin's was disappointing. One Piece is a series with a lot of fighting, but I feel like, at a certain point, there was too much fighting. I don't want to make it seem like I hated this arc though, because their were some good moments. The Oden flashback was very well done. Sanji and Zoro's fights, as mentioned, were great. Yamato, although he was introduced late, was a really strong character. But, of course, we had the thing that truly gave Wano it's insane capper: Fifth Gear. Fifth Gear, especially in the anime, was such an incredible setpiece that felt like truly all of One Piece was building towards that I could not help but be stunned. I felt nothing but pure joy watching this goofy Tom and Jerry man go to town, especially after all the time I'd invested in this arc. Even beyond that, the conclusions for Toko, Tama, Momonosuke, Kin'emon and Yamato were all extremely well-done and heartfelt. In spite of the regular tediousness of much of the Wano Kuni saga, holy hell did it have a finale.

[toast-in-a-cowboy-hat]

The whole debacle with the Felix Remix of biscuits and gravy is equal parts hilarious and unfortunate for me, in particular, because like, ya know, yeah, Oreos in beef granules, Oreos & Beef, that sounds bad.

To most folks at least, probably.

I, tragically, am haunted by the presence of, in my opinion, a much worse sounding execution of that general concept.

That beast being the Oreo Stuffed Cheeseburger.

Which is something I have seen, irl, at both local restaurants and fair grounds, and, as you might could guess from the name, is where they take a beef patty, put Oreos in the middle of said patty, and then follow it up with the rest of the steps one might take to produce a cheeseburger.

And it's been a while since I seen it, so I'm not entirely sure but I think they also put either icing, crushed oreos, or both, on top of the patty with the rest of the condiments.

I've seen another version too, the Deep Fried Oreo Cheeseburger, which is a cheeseburger with deep fried oreos on top, and then again I think the icing and maybe crushed oreos.

And who knows, maybe that actually sounds good to y'all, idk, but that seems worse to me. Like Felix's thing just got beef and oreo, cookie and sauce, these you have the beef and the oreo, but theres also cheese, mustard, onion, etc, etc... all along with a bunch more oreos, and none of those things are something I'd want near an oreo to begin with so.

Sounds bad!

But people eat and enjoy all of these things, I had people tell me that they thought it sounded bad, but it was actually surprisingly good!

And so! It's very funny to me because like, that means Felix is not entirely wrong! Oreo and beef is a flavor combo people enjoy, people would like his biscuits and gravy, there's places you can buy this sort of thing from out there in the world, right now.

There's even been kinda similar concepts served widespread via chain store like, you ever thought your cheeseburger wasn't sticky enough? Well, you're in luck, there was a point you could buy the Peanut Butter Bacon Cheeseburger, and also the Peanut Butter Bacon Milkshake, which yes, had real bacon chunks in it like Look at these things

People ate these People enjoyed these

To me that sounds awful, but a whole lotta people really liked them

And so between that and the Oreo Cheeseburger, I think Felix's true calling in life was to have some sort of food truck. Like, he should be at a state fair, making concoctions of questionable edibility that people are either disgusted by or adore, and instead, alas, he was British.

This man is gonna end up visiting Outlaw in Texas one day and accidentally start a trend, like, he's gonna invent the Brown Gravy Oreo Cheeseburger or some shit like that. We're gonna end up with Cowboy Felix where that's what he does now, no more assisting with horrific medical experiments, he's making his own, in the culinary field!

Let him have fun with strange food combinations, he deserves it

[rayofmisfortune]

YES YES PLEASE let Eclipse be his own person now. He's served his purpose, he doesn't need those directives anymore! (...unless?? kinda strange how ruin installed MAGIC of all things in Eclipse. Eclipse hasn't used it for anything more than threatening the creator so far. Makes me wonder if Ruin isn't done yet...) Btw it's so funny how Ruin included puzzles as one Eclipse's directives. Can't think of anything else to use as a distraction apparently lskdfjl (1/?)

AM I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO SO SO LONG TO ANSWER

I wanted to answer it the evening of it being sent but was too busy and then FORGOT AND OH MY GOSH I'M SO SORRY THYME AH

Uhm anyway- I think this was sent after the Eclipse showing up at Earth's doorstep video?? SO IT'S BEEN A LIL BIT HAHA

Since this being asked A LOTTA STUFF'S HAPPENED AND i haven't really been keeping up as much as I probably should but oh well eheh

Oh my Gosh WE NEED THAT RUIN FLASHBACK EPISODE NDJRFJ CAN YOU IMAGINE??? Like yea sure since then we got them kinda talking about their experiences BUT THE VISUALS OF A FLASHBACK SCENE PLEASE

Oh killing Ruin would HURT frankly I like this spin on them a little, hqve come to terms with their acts being just facades but now we're seeing THEM, and... yeah some bits and pieces from their personas are still there

Honestly atp it's a race between Moon and Eclipse abt who brings solar back first jfjfjf Eclipse disabled the portal FOR SOME REASON maybe he needed something from it for this plan of his? Unsure

OH MY GOSH SINCE THAT MEETING ECLIPSE HAS GOTTEN PROTECTIVE OF EARTH??? The show's taking eclipse places and I can't wait to see the end product of this slow change of character. The way they repeatedly brought up the fact Eclipse had been copied off of SOLAR'S CODE not and Eclipse's, that he's a clone and not the ACTUAL ECLIPSE. Oooooh i'm still waiting for that breakdown jfnfnfnf

[twilightmalachite]

Raison d’être - A Premature Burial 5

Author: Akira

Characters: Shu, Mika

Translator: Mika Enstars

"(…Ah, Nazuna-nii sent me a message sayin’ somethin’ like, “you haven’t replied, what’s happening?” Sorry to worry ya…)"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: The Itsuki's House Cellar

Several hours later. In the storage cellar of the Itsuki household villa…

Mika: Zzz, zzz…♪

(…Nnah? Oh shoot, I fell asleep!)

(I’m a bit jet-lagged from travelin’ back and forth between Japan and France, huh… It’s also strangely dim an’ quiet here, so I got sleepy.)

(Ummm, ahh, looks like several hours have passed already. Anyone other than family was too much in the end, so I had t’stay back.)

(Are ya doin’ okay alone, Oshi-san?)

(But well, I am nothin’ more than jus’ a freeloader, I honestly don’t have any right to meddle into family affairs…)

(I remember this, this feelin’ slightly alienated.)

(Nothin’ I can do about that, though. I’m not Oshi-san’s family.)

Mika: (… …)

(…Ah, Nazuna-nii sent me a message sayin’ somethin’ like, “you haven’t replied, what’s happening?” Sorry to worry ya…)

(I’ll reply sayin’, “All is good~, I’m a lil’ jet-lagged and slept”.)

(“Right now, Oshi-san’s talkin’ to his family about what actually happened with his Grandfather.”)

(“From what Oshi-san’s sayin’, it doesn’t seem his Grandfather’s actually passed away, or anythin’ that serious.”)

(“Simply another of his lies, so t’speak.”)

(“But, it’s been a while and he’s still not back yet, I wonder if there’s trouble. I’m kinda worried…” …Hm, writin’ somethin’ like this will have Nazuna-nii worryin’ too.)

(“Seems like everythin’s all good here, so don’t worry too much.” …There. ♪)

(“Thank ya fer carin’ about me. Even though you have nothin’ to do with us anymore, Nazuna-nii.”)

(…Wait, treatin’ Nazuna-nii like a stranger like this might get him depressed.)

(Nnah~… I’m no good at this no matter how hard I try at it. I just wanna give a normal reply.)

(Well, that’s good, I’ll send… There. ♪)

(…I have nothin’ left to do.)

(Oshi-san told me to pass the time by rummaging through the things here as I wish…)

(But what kinda place is this? A storage room? Though I heard that when Oshi-san was a child, he sorta made it into his own room at his convenience.)

(Originally, the cellar was made for his madman Grandfather to toss any junk he collected elsewhere into. There really are quite a lotta strange things in here.)

(I also have a habit of pickin’ up and collectin’ junk too, so I feel like I understand his Grandfather a bit more…)

(Or maybe, that’s why Oshi-san told me to wait here.)

(Heheh. Allow me t’appreciate the collection of a “like-minded” fellow!)

(Ahaha, all the junk here’s is splendid… At the Antique Market, I heard somethin’ about how they often sell off valuables here.)

(Hm? Whats this, a book with a lock? Is this somethin’ like a diary?)

(What an unusual dial lock… It’s inscribed with letters instead of numbers. So it’ll open if ya spell out a certain word?)

(It’s like solvin’ a riddle! That’s interestin’. I’ll use my spare time tryin’ t’solve it.)

(Though it’s someone else’s diary, so I shouldn’t look at it. Even if I do unlock it, I won’t be able t’see what’s inside, but… Hmmm, I wonder if I can find any hints anywhere.)

(Hm~… There’s ain’t anythin’ written on the cover.)

(Oh, but there’s a book over there with the same type of bindin’ as this (alleged) diary!)

(Let’s see, this one has a title of sorts written on it… “The Taming of the Shrew”[1]?)

(I wish I were more educated, I can’t get a hint from this at all.)

Shu: —What are you messing around with?

Mika: Nnaaah!?

Y-y, ya scared meee! Don’t suddenly talk from behind me like that, I thought my heart would jump outta my mouuuth!

Shu: Hmph. If you don’t want to lose your vital organs, you better sew your mouth shut, then.

More importantly, Kagehira, things have gotten a bit troublesome… I’d like to ask for your assistance, if you don’t mind.

Mika: Nnah? Of course I don’t! I’ll always be of use to ya, Oshi-san~♪

Hm, huh? I just realized yer holdin’ Mado-nee in yer arms.

Don’t ya keep her somewhere safe whenever you gotta hurry back home like this, so ya don’t scratch her when movin’ about? Usually?

Shu: Hmph. I thought you had grown, but you’re still lacking when it comes to aesthetics.

This child here is not Mademoiselle. Although, she does look quite similar, doesn’t she?

I’d like to discuss some things with you, including that, so let’s move elsewhere. It’s unbearably dusty here.

It reminds me of when I was a child, when I was foolish and helpless, you see.

Mika: … …

[ ☆ ]

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1. A comedy written by Shakespeare. The plot depicts the story of Petruchio, the male lead, and the female lead Katherina, a stubborn "shrew" who is unwilling to respond to his courtship. The plot involves the "taming" of her through various methods to try to turn her into an obedient bride. I recommend reading a more detailed synopsis if you want to catch the small hints/references throughout the story!

[dusty-pistol]

Just woke up from a strange dream I don't understand nor remember much of (it's honestly rare that I dream at all), but I do remember one thing from it so here's a small yap session:

For some reason, my family was in it, and my older brother started usin robot phrasin on me outta nowhere. But the thing is, he was bein nice and sayin it in a genuine way (somethin he'd never actually do) and it made me feel really happy. It also makes me feel sad now cuz nobody in my family would ACTUALLY refer to me as a robot. My ma might as a joke to humor me, but my da and brother would never. And it kinda hurts just a tiny lil smidgen. It's okay though cuz I know they would never understand and I've kinda already accepted that. Plus I know irl I'm not actually a robot lol

Also, don't get the wrong idea about my family. They're extremely acceptin of a lotta things like bein queer, alternative, ect since they ARE queer and alternative. Ma is pansexual and goth, da is a straight ally and punk, and I'm almost certain my brother is aroace (that or he just cannot get bitches). My brother is mostly acceptin but he does make some distasteful jokes sometimes. But I've literally heard him defend me while gamin with his friends so he's sorta cool. All that to say, I am NOT in any danger or in an unlovin household. My family loves me for who I am and even the parts of me they don't know yet and probably never will know.

[officialpenisenvy]

hello i'm the guy who is transgender but whose dad kept calling a guy and beating for acting gay for some strange reason and i have another confession composed of semi-interlinked stories that came up mostly because i've been off work the past week. the first is i've been hooking up with this closet case i work with and a few days ago i found out the story he's been telling his neighbour who saw me coming home with him a couple of times is that i'm his sort-of-estranged son and that's ok, except i need to hold up my end of pretending to be his son so they don't know he's fucking me, but i hate my real dad so bad that i now fantasise about killing this guy a lot and i don't know how to tell him, and i also don't think the lie is very successful because i was chatting with his neighbour yesterday and she looked at me kind of concerned and said are you and your father close? and i really don't know how to navigate this situation. secondly i've been having late night inebriated conversations with my brother because i told him to read marx and he listens to me so now he's reading marx and reporting his thoughts and a big problem that has come up is he keeps calling me dad, on accident, and he doesn't notice he's doing it unless i make a face, and if i do he starts crying because he's sort of a baby that way, but i can't tell him to cut it out because then i WILL be like my dad. thirdly my mom keeps calling me by my dad's name when she's mad at me and accusing me of avoiding her because i have an oedipus complex which is a crazy thing of her to say but let's not get into that. fourth point is my youngest cousin, the brother of the cousin i was obsessed with as a kid who molested me, is now having his own obsession era but with me, and it's a similar sort of age differential and all, and he's this gay sort of barely-started-puberty kid with no boundaries who's doing the whole "do you think i'll have a voice like yours, can i feel your stubble, wow you're so hairy, do you have a girlfriend? you're gay? what's it like?" thing, so i feel a bit sick partly because of the memories and partly because i don't like acknowledging that i'm gay, which isn't his fault also his stiff is pretty normal early pubescent derangement i think, but i feel crazy, and maybe i live in hell or soemthing all things considered. on an unrelated note you've inspired me to revisit my lz records so i've remembered i generally speaking like them but i think a lot of the magic is lost when listening to their studio albums vs live albums/bootlegs, even being that a lot of the lz official live recordings are kinda off-days for robert plant. but i'm really into whole lotta love version that's on how the west was won... i stole the album from my dad when my parents separated and i spet so much time listening to it on repeat that it now appears to be a fundamental building block of my psyche even though i'm not that into lz all things considered. i hope the rest of your day is good!!

SO much going on here. i think you need to kill your entire family and disappear in the woods with a record player (to listen to led zeppelin on). also i think you should call the guy you're fucking dad during sex and take it from there