#Chester City Walls

[emmasternerradley]

There really is no better way to soothe your soul than a walk on Chester’s city walls.

[hepdenerose]

Return To Splendour (Chester City Walls)

Considering the 2023 trip less than optimal due to weather, travel and health issues, we returned to Chester mid-March 2024. Tuesday started sunny and forecast to be the best of the week (with no snow) we circumnavigated the city walls. From the rented house two street up from last year’s stay, we crossed the ring road, lingered to admire the painterly canal, bought pasties on Frodsham Street and…

[sparrownimbus2000]

1. Castle by Moonlight

I missed my posting on the first of November – I forgot! Here it is a day late. My four year old boy is at the delightful age where everything he sees is fascinating. City walls of Chester, for example. Why are they there? Who used to walk on them? Did they used to walk on walls in the olden days, and today we walk on paths? Why did they walk on walls in the olden days? What are enemies? Mama,…

[sideblog-for-city-polls-69]

i love york!!! i stayed once with my family, then visited twice after i moved to leeds. might be living there once im out of uni too!

Population: 141,685

One submitter commented, “York's City Walls are ancient walls surrounding the historic City of York, comprising of 3.4km (2 miles) of surviving masonry, with some parts dating back to the Roman times (~2000 years ago). York is a very beautiful historical city and I highly recommend visiting if you haven't before.”

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Watch Me | Cooper Adams/Abbott x Teacher F!Reader

Synopsis: You can’t always be Little Miss Perfect. Sometimes you need to let off some steam, and Mr. Adams knows just how.

Warnings: Age Gap (Legal,) Reader is in her mid 20’s and Cooper is 46, Implied Murder, Grinding, PiV Sex, Biting, Slapping, Hair Pulling, Use of Daddy, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Abuse, Abusive Ex, Dom!Cooper, Infidelity,  Cheating, Spanking, Choking, ROUGH SEX (and I am not using that lightly, this is FUCKING ROUGH)

Rating: M

Word Count: 10k

Author’s Note: So I really need to stop writing Cooper in his psycho form. I want soft Cooper….BUT THE PARASITE IN ME WANTS THE PSYCHOPATHY OF COOPER. Also if this makes no sense don’t judge, I took an edible and let my mind take course.

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

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You love your job, absolutely adore it. There is nothing better in this world than teaching. Something about mentoring kids and creating core memories that they will look back on with gratitude, is why you started in the first place. The teachers that made a lasting impact on you are also the same ones who believed in you when you said you wanted to be someone, to create and show the world you are capable of. Tumultuous home life crushed your spirit day in and day out, leaving you feeling worthless. At least with your mentors, they made you remember how only you can control your own life. If anyone knows you well enough, they know you need control.

Teaching initially gave you that control when you were fresh out of college; Being able to see kids grow and flourish into young adults was rewarding. Leaving a lasting impact was your goal but, in the state America is in today – being a teacher isn’t ideal. Between mass murders and serial killers – you couldn’t tell which you were scared of more. At first it was a what if, but the further you got into the school year, the more threats that arose, left you on edge. You needed to have a way to blow off steam, you needed a way to put those days of fear behind you. Seeking out a second employer was not ideal, with how tight your schedule already was, it left you no time for you. Which in theory was fine, being a single woman living in Philadelphia was exactly what it seemed; Dreary and bored. You needed that oomph to make you excited again, to live in the moment versus in your head. Chester Springs is quiet, quaint, exactly what you were looking for. A city where no one knows that you are a schoolteacher, a place where they think you are something else entirely.

Entertaining was what you were good at, turning tricks got you through college in Boston. It wasn’t a shameful thing, a girl got to do what she’s got to do. Aquarius is a higher end strip club, to call it what it is. Not a typical hole in the wall joint to mask money laundering. Aquarius was more in the line of escorts – sure there were still pole dancing and private suites but, not everyone could get in. A club where married men come to cheat on their wives, where businessmen always in control let off a little steam, and where stockbrokers come to give a last hurrah before marriage. It was nice, refreshing even to have a place where you weren’t ogled like prey – no, you were respected, in control. It was your haven after a long work week; Come Friday through Sunday night – you were the Queen of them all.

Being the head dancer meant you got to say no to those creeps who snuck in, those who want to get sucked off and fucked before they touch their wives again. You got to pick what music you danced to, who you interacted with, hell you even got to choose your pricing. To be fair you busted your ass off for four years to do so, you earned every moment of your employment. It meant you could live that double life comfortably, be able to drive a Porsche and hire a housekeeper. You were comfortable, no longer struggling. You were eternally grateful.

Friday nights tend to be specialty nights – meaning any group of first responders got half price to celebrate the work they do for the state. The surrounding towns, up to sixty miles out, were invited and treated like kings. As a sign of appreciation, tonight happened to be the Philadelphia fire department’s night to be pampered; The less you knew the better. I mean, your boss never told you that your hometown was going to be the subject of tonight’s praise – just like those guys didn’t need to know you were teaching in their district. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you ran a finger under your lip to clean up your lipstick – the mauve pink color suiting your skin tone beautifully. The music was pumping, and the cheering was growing louder. Tonight was going to be a good tip night – you could feel it.

“Baby girl, you’re up in five,” Moira, your boss sang out – patting the top of your head with a motherly touch. You felt warmth spread through your body; Arousal mixed with nerves. No matter how long you danced, you always got nervous when it was your time to shine. Still, tonight was no different from the last – this was your night. “I’m in control. I have control. I am control.” You spoke to yourself in a soft voice, causing Veronica to rub your arm – praying silently for you. “Lord, please make sure she has the sexiest dance tonight. Please make sure she catches the hottest firefighter and gets a good dick down. And Lord? Make sure her tits pop like you deserve.” Ronnie spoke in a serious tone, causing you to cackle as you stand. “You know I love you, Ron Ron.” You kissed her cheek as you strutted off to her right, causing her to smack your ass in the process. “Show them titties off baby!”

Rolling your eyes, you shed your bathrobe against the coat rack near the backstage entrance, your platform heels clacking sexily against the linoleum. With Halloween only a few weeks away, the club decided to get spooky season started early with your routine. Your sound of choice was Heaven by Julia Michaels – whilst you wore a lacy red number, accentuating your body in every place you adored. The straps around your midsection, thighs, and arms made you feel badass and hot all wrapped into one. Where tonight was to honor the firefighters, you added a little yellow leather jacket to cover your upper half, and a plastic fire caps for the laughs.

Hearing the beat and bass rumbling through your feet, you heard Moira’s voice announcing your stage name. You didn’t see any faces but outlines of figures; Broad and strong. A line of sweat ran down your back from excitement, then ran cold at all eyes on you. Usually, you were never nervous to dance and found it quite relaxing. But tonight, there was a heaviness that loomed in the air. Anxiety crept up your legs, making you shake slowly as you wrapped your left leg around the pole. Doing a fireman’s slide, you spun your body gently – gliding through the air with open eyes, trying to see why you felt so uncomfortable. All the men stared at you like you were an angel from above, like you were the greatest thing on this Earth. But one set of eyes stared into yours with a predatory gleam – one that caused your core to tighten. Staring at you in the direct center of the club, was none other than Firehouse 721’s very own Fire Chief, Cooper Adams.

You had a long, extensive history with Mr. Adams, being his daughter Riley’s teacher. Riley Adams is your star pupil, the student every teacher strives to have. She isn’t an overachiever but, she loves to get those A’s and B’s. Always first to help out a classmate or stick up for her friends, she was a true hero of the seventh grade. In fact, she would often stay after school with you and keep her dad waiting – which in turn would cause Cooper to come in and have weekly progress updates on Riley. There was never animosity with Cooper but, the ways his eyes tended to wash over you, made you burn. A single father of two, working day in and day out to protect the city, he was the whole package wrapped into one. But you knew it was inappropriate to do anything with your student’s parents, you took your job too serious.

One incident happened earlier this year when Riley stuck up for a kid in class, leading for the main mean girl to put slime in Riley’s blond curls. Riley in turn socked her directly in the face, breaking her nose. It turned into Cooper getting into a spat with the mother of the girl – and you needing to mediate. Riley got in school suspension for two weeks, and Cooper was not having it. Though Riley thought her punishment was fair, Cooper thought she shouldn’t have anything against her. Your hands were tied, there was nothing you could do. At the end Cooper understood but, that gleam he is giving you now – felt the same way as that day. Like he was going to eat you whole, and spit you back out.

His ember eyes glowed against the red lights, sparkling with darkness and sex appeal. You felt yourself give out a little moan as you dropped to your knees, running your hands up and down your torso. Tossing your head back as the cap fell off, you rolled your hips against the stage – acting very demure with the song. But your eyes were low lidded, staring at Cooper, watching how his thick thighs twitched with need, his hand readjusting the crotch of his pants. Cooper Adams was staring at you like he wanted to devour you in front of the club, like he wanted to stake his claim and you’d be damned – you’d let him in a heartbeat. Nerves snaked their way across your stomach as you realized the entire firehouse was there – parents of the students you taught, who damn well might’ve known your face. You felt your palms grow clammy as you felt yourself up, your breath hitching. “Breathe. You’re almost done,” you whisper to yourself under the music, closing your eyes as you slid sideways on stage, your ass up in the air as you got your chest as low as you could go.

Cooper’s whole firehouse was watching you like a hot, tossing back and shots and smirks as they watch you. The rain of twenties and hundred-dollar bills felt like magic, knowing you were putting on the best show possible for them. But you hid your face beneath your hair on purpose; You didn’t need this to get out. Once you hit the stage you slid to your back, windmilling your legs as you clack your platform heels; The sound reverberating off the room. Everyone cheered as loud as they could, clapping as the song started to wind down to its end. Yet the entire time Cooper never moved, never took his eyes off of you, and never changed his facial expression. He looked like he was going to eat you alive, he was going to devour you and leave no crumbs. But you couldn’t tell if that glimmer in his eye was rage or admiration He probably thinks I’m a slut.

“Gentlemen give it up for our superstar!” Moira yelled over the mic, causing the whooping and cheers to ring out. Smiling like you weren’t nervous at all, you gave a bow before starting to walk back to the dressing room, your smile dropping to a mortified look – hands shaking uncontrollably as you slid behind the curtain. “Holy shit, girl! You fucking killed it!” Mackenzie called out as Veronica took the stage next, blasting Joan Jett. Macks face slid from a stellar smile to a worried glance as she evened out her lipstick, the baby pink shade complimenting her whole aesthetic so well. Placing the tube down, she came up to your front, grabbing your face between her hands. “What’s wrong? Was it the guys? I know it’s nerve wracking when it’s first responders but you did-“

“They’re from my district, my town.” You cut Mack off, sucking in a deep breath as you felt tears well in your eyes. Looking up to avoid smudging your makeup, you sniffle as you hold onto Mackenzie’s arm for anchorage. “I fucking teach their kids, Mack. Those dads fucking saw me here! No one knows I dance, for fuck’s sake. If they know, if they see…I’m fucked.” You knew one day it was going to happen, that someone, or someone’s you knew would stroll in and see you performing – see your tits or ass on display, and how you worked your way around the club. The day that happened you swore you would get up and leave – school, the club, town – move across the country and start fresh. Change your name, pretend this wasn’t your life before and have endless possibilities. Now? That wasn’t a choice.

“Slow your role there, buttercup. It’s not that big of a deal. I work in Daycare. Ronnie works as a speech therapist. Moira is the principal of a high school in town. It’s not a huge deal. We survive, you can too.” Hearing Mackenzie say that was reassuring but, still the gnawing at your gut made you want to redo your entire life from scratch. “Was it the chief that freaked you out, is that why you’re tweaking?” She must’ve been talking about Cooper – I mean who else would it be? Deep down, you hated to admit it but it was true. Having Cooper, the sexiest dad in town, see you stripped down and showing your sensual side made you feel like you were on fire. The way his eyes would watch every movement, like he was cataloging it in his head; All it would take is for him to say what you do and poof – everything you’ve worked for.

“If you’re worry about him spilling, stop. He was eye-fucking you so hard I’m surprise he didn’t cream his pants.” Mackenzie’s shrill laugh flowed through your ears, just as Ronnie was done. Barbe Girl by Aqua starting blaring through the sound system as Mackenzie perked her breasts up in her baby pink bra, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Go talk to him, it’ll make you feel better.”

She was right, maybe if you explained to Cooper what you are doing, he’d understand. Probably pull Riley out of your class but that was okay – because at least you tried, and that’s all you could ever do. Sucking in a deep breath, Ronnie grabs the towel from beside you with a laugh – exhaling with a relieved smile. “Dude, DUDE! That fire chief wouldn’t fucking look my way. He’s all yours, baby doll.” Ronnie shook her head with a laugh as she passed by you, heading towards the locker room. It made your stomach flip that Cooper only watched you, not giving the other girls the time of day. It made you feel special, like after all this would be okay. Maybe it would, maybe this is all going to work out just fine.

“Baby doll, you got a private dance in room six. Cameras are off in there, so if you need anything just holler!” Moira shouted over Aqua, using her two fingers to motion you to the private rooms. The relieved sigh you exhaled calmed your nerves, your eyes no longer wavering at the thought of what you’d tell Cooper about your lifestyle. Maybe whoever is in six would take your mind off it – maybe you didn’t even have to see him. I mean its taboo, right? Fire department going to a strip club on the State’s dime. If blackmailing was needed, you knew Moira would stick right by your side. Swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat, you slowly started to make your way across the club to the left side.

The spiral, velvet staircase was a perfect add on to the club – making it feel sophisticated, but also retro. You loved how it felt against your hands and feet as you climbed up, rubbing against the velvet banister. It was the best way for you to ground yourself before doing a private dance. Those could go anyway you wanted – depending on the price. Tonight though? The money didn’t fucking matter – what mattered was clearing your head after the inner turmoil you laid on yourself. To say you were drained was an understatement – you haven’t been this exhausted at the club since your ex tried to kidnap you a few months back, held you at knife point behind the dumpster because you didn’t want to go with him. Never again, you promised yourself never again.

As you reached the top of the landing, you put on your game face. Giving the empty space your very best sensual look. Eyes half lidded, the sway in your hips dropping to a softer cadence, your lips puffed out to plump them a little bit. You were going big tonight; all the stops were going to be let out. They were going to get the best dance of your fucking life, and a little happy ending to top it off. Shit, maybe seeing Cooper did turn me on. You shook your head at the thought, feeling your core sopped at the mental image. Biting down on your bottom lip, you took a deep breath as you wrapped your delicate hand around the doorknob, turning it softly. Closing your eyes you make sure to push the door open and slip inside. The plush fabric on the wood made your heart calm down, putting you in your mental place before spinning around.

“Hi there, sweet-“ you began as you spun around, the smile you plastered on for show slipped – causing a look of shock to cover your face. You felt like a statue; Standing stone still, eyes widening at the realization. The black velvet couch was occupied by one man, and one man only – staring at you with such intensity your body vibrated. One arm draped over the back of the couch whilst the other rested against his thigh, fingers twitching inconsistently. Sunset colored eyes stared intently at you, creased as if contemplating what his next move would be. A plush pink tongue slipped between his lips, pulling his bottom one in between his teeth. Cooper Adams was your special dance of the night, he wanted a private dance, in the one room where cameras didn’t work – it all made sense now. Gulping down the pool of spit that coated your mouth, you stuck your hands out like a frightened animal, slowly walking sideways in the room. You knew he could pounce at any time; The unpredictability was making you weak.

“Sit.” He stated matter-of-factly, patting his muscular thigh. His lips pursed in such a way where you knew he was growing frustrated. At the sight of his jeans tightened in the crotch area, you could assume why he was crabby. “Mr. Adams-“ you began to explain yourself, trying to justify why you were here and why this doesn’t take away from your teaching abilities but Cooper wasn’t having it. Raising the hand that was draped over the couch, he let out a pessimistic laugh, sliding his tongue over his teeth as he never broke your line of sight. “I said, sit. Don’t make me say it again.” The tone in which he spoke was strict, to the point; He said what he wanted now it was your duty to obey. Or else, you knew something bad would happen.

Nodding in submission, you hung your head lower than you would’ve liked, moving graciously in your heels as you tried not to focus on Cooper’s predatory stare. Seeing him like this was new for you – every time the fire department would give the safety assemblies, he was always so happy and chipper. The best thing in his life besides Riley and Logan was making sure the community was safe. He did it with a smile, so excited and proud knowing he was making a difference. That soft Cooper you fell for, like every other teacher, dissipated and instead a greedy, dark man sat in his place. His soul always shined brightly against the backdrop of the city – now it was obsidian, tainted by rage and hunger. It was sexy, in a fucked up way.

As you reached Cooper lap, you stood tall in front of his seated self. Placing both hands on the back of the couch to box in his thick neck, slowly you crept forth to place your knees on the opposite sides of his thighs. You weren’t even allowed to straighten yourself out as Cooper grasped at your waist, pinning your hips to his impatiently. The grunt of approval that slipped passed his parted lips was sent straight to your core, the slick mess made in your panties evident to his treatment. That dark look fell away from Cooper’s face as a shiny smile fell upon him, beaming up at you like you were a pretty new toy.  “There, doesn’t that feel better?” There was a sadistic undertone to his words; He was toying with you after all.

Looking down into Cooper’s eyes, you felt your fingertips grow clammy against the plush couch, your breath hitching at his question. “Cooper, pl-” You tried to start again but were met with Cooper tsking at you, chuckling exuberantly at your annoyance. You needed to explain yourself, you needed to give yourself a chance to explain before he got the wrong idea. But every time you were trying to justify your career choices, you were shut out. You knew deep down Cooper wasn’t doing this on purpose but, it felt very fucking pointed. Sighing out in frustration, you sucked your teeth as you watched him, pursing your lips to get your point across. “My, my. Now I knew you could have a darker side but, being a stripper AND a teacher?” he tsked, grazing his eyes along your body as you kneeled still. His eyes met the line of your cleavage, using his thick fingers to rub against the straps that barricaded your breasts. The simple touch made your body ignite. Instinctively you grinded down on him, feeling his hard cock tighten under his jeans. Hissing out at the feeling, Cooper brought his freehand around to smack your ass, gripping hard at the supple flesh. “Bad, bad girl.”

“Mr. Adams, this isn’t-“ You shook your head, a headache booming behind your eyes at the maltreatment. Your vision was growing hazy on the sides as you stared dead on at Cooper, wondering why he wasn’t giving you the chance to say anything and only cutting you off. “What? Appropriate?” He laughed. It wasn’t a laugh you heard before, but one that was chaotic – unhinged to say the least. Cooper’s face contorted into a psychopathic grin, his hand snaking up the front of your body, up your torso, and finally landing on your neck. “What’s not appropriate is not staring at the client while you’re making them rock fucking hard.” He chided as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to your pulse point, causing your head to grow hazy. You couldn’t help that your eyes were rolling back into your head at the feeling of being choked by Cooper. Your life lying in the palm of his hand, he controlled your every move. “You silly little slut, did you like watching me adjust myself?”

It was a no-brained response. You couldn’t hide it any longer. “Yes,” you whispered. The rough nature of how he was grabbing at your throat caused your words to come out soft, timid and shy. The cold metal of his wedding band was delicious in contrast with the warmth of your skin. Nothing like how you were in parent teacher conferences. This time around it was different – you no longer had control of the room but were just another pretty pawn to be stepped on. Crinkling his brow, Cooper shook his head, being unsatisfied. “Uh, uh uh. Louder.” Cooper commanded you to say it again, but wanted it loud enough for him to hear. You knew this was a tactic to fuck with you, to put you right where he wanted this whole time. Being rough like this wasn’t anything new to you – after all this is what you preferred in your sex life. But the way he commanded you was unlike anything else – even how your ex was. Yet he didn’t stop when you said to – you knew Cooper would. “Yes.” It was a choked moan as you met his gaze, growling out softly as the word slipped.

“Good girl, now was that so hard to admit?” Cooper’s hand released itself from around your throat, instead rubbing circles into the column of your throat. You felt the flush take over your body as your blood started to move again. Cutting off the oxygen supply to your brain made you feel foggy, coming down from that now put everything into perspective. That dark, eerie look in Cooper’s eyes was hunger. That glint of something deeper, the restraint he was holding – snapped into a thin corded line, causing you to grovel for him. You hated admitting to yourself that you could cum just from this, right here and right now. This was all anyone in town wanted – a chance with Cooper Adams, the fire chief and married father of two.

“What’s your plan here, Cooper?” You managed to speak with a lilt in your tone, trying to gain back your composure. It was impossible for you to suppress the giggle that slipped out as you asked that, finding it quite hilarious that the one time he let you speak a full question without interruption, is when you ask what his intentions are with you. It was comedic at this point, he truly was fucking with you on such a deep level, it almost felt like a joke. But no, it was psychopathy. You never would’ve pegged Cooper Adams – wholesome girl dad – as a psychopath or having those kinds of tendencies. A rougher, darker side maybe only his wife sees. His wife. He’s married. Was it awful that that didn’t bother you? You never met Rachel and Riley never talked about her. It was always Cooper, Cooper, Cooper. “Nothing, just to enjoy my daughter’s teachers’ company.” The sickeningly sweet way Cooper said that made your blood boil, using it against you in a way. The power trip running rampant in his mind as you cowered. Chuckling out of sheer frustration, you shot back: “Are you going to tell everyone, now?”

“And expose you for being such a fucking whore? Now where is the fun in that?” Cooper pouted playfully, smirking. Your body reacted in such a way to being called a whore that it was morally frowned upon. The way your eyes rolled back as they shut, your face screwed up almost in pain, and your grip tightened now on his shoulder. You couldn’t let him have the upper hand but for fucks sake, you wanted him to. Everything in your life was always about control, why not give that up for a bit. Looking at Cooper’s entertained face, you drew up your best puppy dog eyes – showing the sheen of tears covering your irises as you slightly frowned. “Aw, what’s wrong Princess? I thought you like being degraded. After all, you’re always looking up porn with it.”

That threw you off of your game, your demeanor dropped, and your body was running cold. There was no way in hell for him to know that based on an acute observation, or even a fucking hunch. No, this went deeper. Your brain started to go over every memory you have had lately of this encounter, trying to find a possible solution for why he would know that. “How did you…?” You caught yourself midsentence as you remembered the alert you got from Safari the other night, IP tracking stating that: Your IP address has been profiled by 23 trackers in the last seven days. But how could it be 23 when you have a VPN, firewall protection and layers upon layers of password encrypted searches? It didn’t make sense; did he dabble in cybersecurity before becoming a fire chief? Or was that for fun that he learned to hack?

Cooper saw the cogs turning in your head as you pondered over each alert you received. Not wanting you to figure it out so damn quick, he perked up as he grabbed your waist, drumming his fingers against your thighs. “Let’s play a game. You guess between one and ten, and I’ll show you what you pick. Sound fun?” It was such a random change of pace that your mind instantly was drawn to what Cooper was insinuating. He didn’t give you a chance to think about the why’s when his fingers ran across your body, grazing the line of your panties. As you peered at his overtly cheery nature, you noticed something you hadn’t seen before; Eye twitching usually happened under duress but Cooper wasn’t. He was calm and calculated, composed. No, there was more to his story than he was leading on.

“One through ten. Pick.” You jolted at the commanding tone, moving your hands to push a few strands of his disheveled hair back. Seeing his face so clearly didn’t help the onslaught of questions you had – and it didn’t quell that ache in your cunt. His hands held your hips harshly, promising to leave bruises on your skin. If you even tried to grind down to get comfortable, he would halt any movements. This was his time to play, not yours. “Four.” The reluctant pick brought light back into his eyes, causing that soft smile to reappear. You swear this man was going to give you whiplash with how often he was changing his mood. There wasn’t anything more to it – Cooper scared you in a way where you wanted to be owned by him. It wasn’t a fear for your life, when it should’ve been. You felt like a sick fuck, but it made you so horny to think about.

“Four, my personal favorite!” Cooper exclaimed as he cupped your cheek, using his other hand to grab his phone out of his jeans pocket. You were growing confused as to why he made you pick, and also needed his phone. That is when the realization dawned on you that this game was going to include pictures or videos – of which you were fearful it was of you. That number’s game could relate to a video or picture he took of you tonight, or prior to tonight. It was evident this man did somewhat stalk you – but to the extent? That was lost on you. Gripping his iPhone, Cooper opened an app with a goat’s head, humming to himself as he put in his code.

Just then you heard the moaning of someone on the other side, but not in the way you were expecting. They sounded to be in pain – they were suffering, it sounded like. Oddly it sounded familiar, one you heard only once but, you couldn’t be sure. Before you could ask what was happening, Cooper spun the phone around to show you, muting your end almost quickly. At first you didn’t recognize what was happening since your eyes fell right to survey the background. It looked like a normal shed but, there was something sinister about it. The piping didn’t look like it normally would, neither did the big blue industrial drum barrels sitting next to the chair. That is when you saw it, him, in full picture. Your Ex.

“Oh my god…” you managed to let out, your heart quickening at what you were seeing. Your ex sat bloodied on a wooden chair, a mask hooked up to a tubed device over his face, and the high rising and falling of his chest. Not seeing him for so long caused you to have a visceral reaction, biting your lip so hard it bled. After everything he did to you – the scars he left on your body…you didn’t know how to react other than an animalistic growl of anger and rage. But to Cooper – it may have looked like rage against him kidnapping your ex. “You wouldn’t believe how easy it was to grab this piece of shit. My god, he doesn’t shut up though.” He sighed in contentment, looking up at you with the slightest bit of admiration in his eyes. He was adoring his own handiwork as he was you, best of both worlds right at his fingertips. “Always why? Why me? What did I do?” He mocked in your ex’s whiny voice, causing himself to chuckle. If the circumstances were different, you may have laughed as well at the impression. But not this time, pieces were clicking together in your head that you didn’t want any part of. Yet you knew, it would be easier to conform than revolt.

“Cooper…this is so fucked up.” You managed to squeak your words out as you stared at his phone, seeing the distress your ex was in. You couldn’t, wouldn’t dare to admit it out loud but seeing him in this position made you feel at peace, knowing he isn’t out there, hurting another woman. You hated that you were the last one he did anything to but, in a way you felt good knowing, thinking about that what if. That what if, is what made you realize. “Oh, far from it, baby girl. This is justice. Fucked up would be to bounce you on my cock as you watch him die.” The fact that Cooper said it so matter-of-factly confirmed the suspicion swirling around in your head. The video feed. The mask. The sneaking glances. The possession. The hot and cold moods rotate like a revolving door. It rang true, the video gave it that final nudge in your brain. You couldn’t escape the truth now. “You’re….you’re The Butcher….” The words felt unreal on your lips; You were hoping for Cooper to deny, deny, deny. But alas, Cooper revealed the truth.

“In the flesh. Out of everyone, I was hoping you caught on first.” The way he stated it so proudly shouldn’t have turned you on the way that it did – but you couldn’t shut off the valve of your feelings on Cooper, no matter how hard you tried. The parent you had been crushing on was finally giving you the time of day in the way you wanted. He stalked you. Kidnapped your ex with intent to kill and is making you straddle him while he does so. Cooper Adams is The Butcher. It all made sense now; The shifting of moods, being so calculated and precise with everything. He was a madman, killed over a dozen people – chopped them up and left their bodies in public places, pieces to only remember the victims by. Those calloused hands weren’t just the hands of a firefighter but, a serial killer. Now? You were grinding on his lap, in a strip club, while he held your ex hostage.

Now that you knew he was The Butcher – you didn’t care about your ex, but yourself. If he had you on top of him, at your mercy, what were his intentions? “W-What is your plan…with me? A-Are you going to kill me, too?” You stuttered, automatically jumping to the worst possible answer before thinking any other was an option. That is all killers are, right? They kill, they kill ones they like, even love. They kill randoms out of the blue. They kill popular people. Hard workers. Anyone really. Whoever is easy for them to get their hands on. Why would Cooper be any different? Why would you for that matter? After all, a victim is a victim. No matter how far out it is, one day it may come. Killers are unpredictable with their moods – Cooper showed that right off the bat.

“Now why would I do that?” Cooper asked, confusion and disappointment showed on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his mouth slightly ajar as he stared at you. He was processing it, but not fully grasping. In his head, he thought it was a stupid question to ask. Why would he do something so horrendous to you? When he’s been pining over you for years. It wasn’t clicking in his head why you were upset and asking, until he heard another agonizing moan slip from his phone. “Oh, right. Serial killer.” He said with a nonchalant tone, pulling his lips up and nodding as he looked down. Sighing out, he locked his phone and placed it back in his pocket – looking up at you, making sure to maintain eye contact. Both of his hands came to cup your face, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. It felt too domestic in this moment – anxiety mixed with being turned on was a weird combination. But you couldn’t, nor you wouldn’t, move your position. This is where you wanted to be, and with who you wanted to be with. Giving that up, would be a mistake deep down. “No, I am not going to kill you.”

“Then what…?” The mental gymnastics was getting to be too much, and quite frankly you were annoyed. It made no sense that Cooper was so cryptic in everything he did now that no one could see or hear him. Only you, and he was planning on keeping it that way. The cameras not working in the room? That had to be him, right? He fucked with them so he could confess without anyone knowing. It made sense, an hour away, where no one knew him that well – just that he is the fire chief. It made sense that people weren’t going to know the name Cooper Adams or think a married man of his caliber was going to frequent a strip club. He was the perfect killer – hiding in plain sight.

Leaning forward as he still holds your face, Cooper grasps at you a bit harder, smushing your cheeks a little bit as he emphasizes the rasp in his voice. “You’re going to take my cock like the good fucking girl you are, and you’re going to let me fill you up.” There was not a singular stutter as he spoke, it was all pure intention on what he was going to do. He didn’t waste a second in explaining himself because his words held enough meaning. Your body, the situation, everything finally caught up to you as you shivered against his body. Your body riddled with goosebumps at the mental image of what he wanted, what he was going to do to you. You couldn’t hide it anymore. It was fucked up how badly your body was betraying you – but the urge to fuck was heavy on your mind. With Cooper? You’d be a fool to turn it down. Your moral compass would never forgive you but, everyone is a sinner, right? “Oh, see? You’re shaking just at the idea.” He teased, leaning forth to press his lips to the column of your neck, flicking his tongue up your throat. The moan you exclaimed shook you to the core, causing your hips to shake.

“I know you’ve wanted to fuck me, because I’ve been dreaming of it since the first day I saw you.” There it was, the confirmation you needed as he bit at your neck, pulling on the flesh with his teeth. The pain hurt so good, you slotted your hands in his hair and yanked. The main was too much for both of you but stopping wouldn’t be an option. The floodgates broke, you couldn’t close them if you tried. Cooper held you down against his crotch with one hand as the other moved to cup the back of your neck, dragging you down to meet his lips in a frenzied kiss. It was electric, the world stopped spinning for a moment as he drank you down. Swirls of golds and blues swirled in your peripheral vision as he deepened the kiss, showing off the passion you longed for.

You didn’t want this to end or stop anytime soon. The one thing weighing heavy on your gut was cutting cold across your body. Pulling back, you spoke in a small tone. “You’re married. That isn’t fair to your wife.” It was true, there was a part of you that hated knowing you were a mistress to this man, who seemed like an overall family guy. Two small kids and a doting wife. Infidelity was never okay in your eyes, and it never would be okay. But there was a small parasitic side of you that couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like. Did he actually love his wife? If he did, what would possess him to cheat on her like this? There was more to it he was not letting on to, nor daring to elaborate on. You wonder if your internal statement was true; He didn’t love his wife and truly has only ever wanted you. But that’s always too good to be true, self-doubt is a fickle bitch. Pouting at your statement, he brings both of his hands down to focus on your breasts, harshly pulling down the cup to expose your pert nipples.

“You’re telling me, you don’t want to feel my wedding ring gliding across your body, hm?” He questioned as he used his thumb and first finger to tweak your nipple, causing a whimper to escape your lips. The cold of his wedding band against the side of your breast made you wet to think about, Cooper could tell hence why he started to glide it over your peaked bud, smirking at the effect it was having on you. Leaning his head down, he captured your right nipple between his lips, suckling softly on the peak. His tongue slid across your sensitive nipple, causing your back to arch. The moan he let out reverberated throughout your body. As he pulled back, you whimpered at the loss of contact but, you didn’t dare to speak. Your voice would betray you. “That you’re making a mess on a married man’s cock?”

That was the final straw for you – that simple question mixed with his opposite hand pulling at your left nipple set you on fire. You moan aloud as you reached down between the two of you, grazing his clothed cock with your hand, running it harshly against the thick outline with a growl. “Please, Cooper.” The action, mixed with your words, caused Cooper to surge forth and capture your lips with his own. The kiss was all teeth, rough and passionate all at once. It was full of want and need without any awkwardness, like this where it was supposed to be all along. This is where Cooper was meant to be. The barrier was broken, there was no turning around now. This night was going to end with him buried balls deep inside of you, and you were going to be such a happy camper about it. “Please, what?” He moaned out loud against your lips, shoving his hand down between your legs, cupping your clothed cunt. “I’m not a mind reader,” Cooper laughed as you rolled your hips against his hand, pressing your forehead to his. The assault on your neck started then, giving him perfect access to kiss the supple skin. Dragging his teeth up your jaw and to your mouth, he pulled himself back a few inches with a smirk – coaxing your response out with one look. “Please, fuck me.” You whimpered, on the nerve of tears. You were a needy mess and needed to fuck him or else you’d burn alive. The attraction, everything, it was too much.

That was exactly what Cooper wanted to hear, it’s what he needed to act upon the impulses, the desires. The genuine smile that spread across his lips as he looked up at you made your heart feel so full, and flutter uncontrollably. “Ah, see? You don’t care about my wife’s feelings.” Cooper moved his hands off of you for a moment to undo his belt buckle, pulling the clasps aside as you undid the button and zipper on his jeans. Pulling it down with a sickeningly fast pace, he soared his hand into his briefs to pull his cock out, smacking it against the front of your pussy through your panties. “No, you just care about me stuffing that pretty cunt.”

His words caused your cunt to clench, but his next actions set you on a path of destruction. Your mouth watered at the sight of his thick, rigid cock, springing out to slap against your clothed pussy. You couldn’t believe the size of him, wondering how that much man was going to fit inside of you. You’d do whatever you had to, to make it fit. That was a promise to you, and silently to Cooper. You started to move to get off Cooper from your straddling position, wanting to slip your panties off and shove them into his coat pocket, so he has a little gift when he leaves. But Coop had other ideas, and he refused to get you get off of him. The lace waistband of your panties slipped softly through his fingers, basking in the way it felt against his hands. You could see the hitch in his breath as he gripped the fabric a little tighter, wrapping it around his finger. Cooper kept twisting until he heard the small elastics in the lace snap, spreading a sinister smile across his face. Just like that, he ripped your panties clean off of your body – utilizing the gap between where his cock and your pussy to push the shredded remains off, grunting out as he sees your wetness.

He gripped the base of his cock to hold it upright, letting you anchor yourself against him to get the perfect angle. Once you hovered over the top of him, slowly you started to guide your hips down onto his, the tip of his cock crowning your entrance. The delicious stretch of his thick head breached your entrance with resistance, too big for you. But you weren’t a quitter and were needing to make him fit. Rolling your hips against the tip, slowly you felt it push further inside of you, your muscles relaxing at the intrusion. “Oh fuck, god you’re so tight.” He breathed out, holding your hips for leverage. Seeing Cooper go pliant under you was the sexiest thing you had seen, all yours for the taking. He watched you as if you were a goddess, basking in all your glory as every inch slowly was seated inside of you.

Halfway down his erect cock, you felt the tip slide directly against your g-spot, seeing stars at the renewed pressure against it. A mewling moan made itself present, eyes rolling backwards to combat the lightheadedness. “That’s it pretty girl, take it slow.” The coaxing from Cooper was only making you wetter, which in turn was making it so much easier to take him. The compliments from the man below you was too hot to handle, you thought you would perish on the spot if he sweet talked you again. Then again, you’d be putty in his hands the second he started to talk dirty. As you slid down the last few inches of Cooper’s cock, you felt the hair at his base rub against you, causing you to roll your hips forward on him, soliciting a delicious man from the depths of him. “Such a good girl,” Cooper keened. Hearing the praise slip from his mouth was causing you to forget everything that happened earlier, what he is. All you could think about was how deep he was inside of you, and how perfect it felt. You were made for him, your body fit with his so perfect. No one would ever compare.

“Shit, C-Cooper.” The words had a mind of their own as it fell out of your mouth, not thinking about anything expect the thick rigids of his cock against your walls. You started to slide back and forth on his cock, letting the pleasure envelop you. Both of your hands reached behind you to rest on his thick thighs; The rough denim burning your palms. It was so worth it though; the pain amplified the pleasure. You were losing yourself with every slide you created, hitting the exact spot you needed to each time. His cock was made for you. Leaning forward, Cooper reached his hand up to cross across your back, pulling you forward more so he could place his forehead between the valley of your breast, resting against the middle of your bra. “I know, baby. I know. It feels too fucking good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You replied absentmindedly, letting your pussy do all the talking. Cooper started to fuck up into you, needing to feel the pleasure you were. All the teasing was driving him mad, if he didn’t move but let you do all the work – there would be no fun in it. Sure, he loved watching you take control and use him for your own pleasure but, at the end of the day – you now belonged to him. He was going to be damned if you got yourself off. No, he needed to be the one to make you cum until you saw stars. “You’re taking me so well, honey.” The sweet nature of his words set you off like the Fourth of July – lighting up your entire body. What made it even better was when he smacked that down with his roughened nature, smacking your ass hard enough to leave bruises. “I’ll be breaking in this body really good.”

That was enough for that familiar flutter to work its way into your lower belly, setting you ablaze from the inside, out. He enjoyed watching you go dumb on his cock, letting the pleasure take over enough to where you were drunk on him. The pleasure crested behind his eyes as well, just thinking about all the endless possibilities for the two of you. “Maybe I’ll even knock you up, put a baby in you, hm?” Your eyes shot wide open to stare at Cooper, his own eyes challenging you. He was provoking a reaction, using your breeding kink against you. Sly motherfucker. Your body’s reaction to the thought was involuntary, as were your words. “Fuuuck,” you manage to slip out as you leaned forth to balance yourself in his lap, feeling your body vibrate with every thrust.

The way your cunt gripped Cooper’s cock was too much for you, the pleasure spreading to every orifice on your body. You couldn’t handle it, the stars began to bloom as you thought about having his baby. How depraved you had to be to enjoy it, and how you knew he was going to make it a reality. Cooper tossed his head back as his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing the hardened nub gently with his calloused finger. The sensation only made everything more intense, he couldn’t stop, neither could you. You were a drug, and he was becoming so addicted. “Oh, you really must love that idea. Walking around with a married man’s mark in you. Naughty, naughty girl.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. There was something about being bred by Cooper that healed something inside of you. It was also the fact that he was a husband already, a father, making him a daddy again would be a gift. Yet you knew you should feel guilty – you should stop and walk away. But where was the fun in that? After all, you’re just as sick and depraved as he is. It would be a shame to pass on the opportunity. “I’m fucking obsessed with you. You’re never leaving me, now.” Cooper was egging you on, wanting you to hit your peak soon enough. He knew if you took too long up here then Moira would come and try to find you, cutting this fun short. Now that was something he couldn’t have. He needed all of you. He hoped you knew that you were never getting away from him, he was going to find you in every life. “A-All yours. All y-yours!” It was true, you were all his now, whether you wanted to or not once the sex ended.

“That’s fucking right I am, I own you.” The primal grunts he showered the VIP room in caused your skin to prickle. The sheen of sweat on your face creating an ethereal glow under the neon lights. It felt like magic, like you were high. Every sense was amplified and putting you on edge. It was a raw nerve, masking its way as lust and love inside of you. This was fucked up, so fucked up! But you couldn’t help yourself, you needed more. “I-I’m gonna cum! Cooper, please!” You scream out, nails dragging down his covered chest; How you wish you could press yourself against his body, feeling you fully enveloped within in. Your high was cresting, ready to hits its peak. But of course you refused to cum unless Cooper gave you permission, your body officially giving up on sanity and leaning towards the crazy. “Cum then, baby. Let daddy take care of you.”

That was all you needed to hear to hit your orgasm. You couldn't handle it anymore, you couldn't begin to comprehend what you were doing anymore. The sex, the love making, it was too good for words. What was even better was the supple embrace of your orgasm - tossing you around like you were nothing. Ocean, one big body of water. The nothingness of waves crashing around you - freedom keeping you afloat. You were weightless as you reached your next high, the blissful graze of it all cresting like a wave, wanting to sweep you deeper into the depths of darkness. The spasms of your silken walls around Cooper’s velvety cock made you scream out - almost as if you were being skinned alive. The pleasure was too much, it felt too good to keep it all inside. All of the club no doubt could hear your screams of endless pleasure. He was grateful he could make you come so hard, your nails dragging along the bare expanse of his alabaster back, causing vermillion stripes to appear. “That’s a good girl. Now, daddy’s turn.”

Gripping onto your hips - Cooper started to snap his within yours. Each stroke of his cock inside of you felt like a burst of wildfire; Burning bright and beautiful, claiming you in each way he saw fit. You always heard of the phrase being cock dumb, never knowing the full intent of its meaning until you were in the position to do so. Every thrust being produced by Cooper sent you into an internal frenzy, moans slipping from your mouth like it was prayers to whatever God listened. Begging and begging for your high with every motion, Cooper became intoxicated by you - your gorgeous body on full display, pliable just for him. Knowing no one else would ever see you in this position again - he was eternally yours as you were his. While Cooper was dealing with his internal monologue, you were basking in the glory of his member. Eyes fell closed while your head pressed backwards, going with the flow of each thrust - letting those whimpers be heard through and through. “Fucking whore. Fucking take that!” Cooper laments, huffing with every thrust produced, you look up at him with doe eyes, meeting his gaze easily without hesitation. Something in Cooper’s chest burst with a blinding array of colors and swirls.

“I’m going to ruin you so good. You’re not going anywhere sweet thing, you’re staying right here.” Cooper started, trying to get the words out in between the deep seeded lust you could provide him. But it was his lips against your cheek, to your ear. Your silence coaxed him forth to finish his thought. “Yes!” Your giggle lit up Cooper’s ears, causing you both to moan wildly during the session - his cock never stopping its spears deep within you. Through your moans were moments of broken pants. Rolls of Cooper’s hips inside of you made you toss your head back once more, feeling the curly hairs at the base of his length rub soothingly against your clit - igniting that slow burn with a delicious tang. “Fuck, fuck!” I’m gonna cum inside of you. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl, right? Gonna carry this real good for me?”

In the moment everything felt like it stopped, your body seizing under the sadist touch of Cooper Adams. Hearing how Cooper wanted to breed you, so you hoped, made everything in your body shut down almost instantly. “Yes!” Screaming with the single punches of his cock to your cervix, you yelled out in unison with the thrusts; "Yes, sir!” Leaning forth you made sure to press your forehead to his, shallowing your breaths to be in time with his. Cooper felt your motions, moving a singular hand up to cup the back of your neck. Being in place meant he could watch every emotion run its course. Broken down and exposed, like a nerve to the elements - but you would not be caused any harm, this nerve was going to heal slowly but surely, being aided by your own knight. A perverted, serial killing, sick and twisted knight.

Smiles upon smiles ran for miles as you met Cooper’s expression, seeing the lust even following up in his own eyes - matching the deep seeded swirls in yours. Eruptions of butterflies flew through your stomach; A zoo released from its restraints - pounding around to aid in the overwhelming bliss. You felt safe. Cooper wrapped his arms around your torso to push you far into his chest, causing you to return the grip. There you both were; Cooper pounding into you while both bodies hugged one another.

Both of your highs were dangerously close to exploding, and there was no way you could hold on any longer. Cooper’s too-talented-for-his-own-good mouth was working like a gear to pump out all of the dirtiness you have been craving for eons. The sinful dialect you never knew he could produce slipped between parted cracked lips. Just like that, the world stopped spinning for the two of you. A wave rushed over both of your figures, jolting your souls into the stratosphere. Like a ton of bricks hitting, you with a mac truck, you felt every spurt of your high aid in Cooper’s - causing your interior walls to be painted stark white. Each clench your cunt produced milked this man for all he was worth. As the overstimulation kicked in, Cooper stopped his thrusts as you stopped your gyrations, letting you both take a well needed breather. Both of your foreheads were pressed against one another, basking in the light of the moment. The heavy stench of sex and sweat clung to the clean air. Bated breaths filled the silence of the house, not even a mouse was stirring. Cooper’s cock pulsated over and over again within your velvety walls, giving you a new paint job, one that was sating you like no tomorrow. It was the simple thought of carrying Cooper’s child that made you burst at the seams, knowing he wanted all of Philly to see the mark he left on you. You were never going to complain about it, no you were proud to be his. “Know this, sweet girl. You ever try to run away, leave, or escape me? It will be the last thing you ever do. You’re mine. Here. Now. Forever. In every life, I own you.”

[janeyseymour]

Hey so I was wondering if you could do a fic about a Melissa X daughter reader where we start working at the school and nobody catches on that we are Melissa’s daughter and the keep putting the pieces together until they finally get it. Maybe something like where Janine and Jacob go to Melissa’s house for cooking lessons and we are just like there and that’s how they find out. Or alternative idea where we are Melissa’s daughter and we start dating someone from Abbott like Ava or Janine and how that would play out. Sorry that’s a lot. Thanks

Relatively Related

written in the midst of the week before spring break and hoping that it isn't absolute trash :)

WC: ~2.5k

Growing up with Melissa Schemmenti for a mother, you saw what it was like being a teacher. You grew up hearing the horror stories that came with being a teacher in a center city school in Philadelphia, and you knew the horrors of growing up in a different part of Philly and going to that neighborhood school. While she didn’t much mind what you did with your life, she had always thought you would be a good teacher. And when you decided to go to college for education at West Chester University, she knew Abbott would take you in a heartbeat. It didn’t even matter that you were her daughter and she was quite the accredited teacher- West Chester’s name had enough to secure you a job anywhere in Philly that you wanted. You had vehemently denied working at her home away from home for quite some time, and yet here you were, with a bit of nudging from your mother, interviewing to become the new third grade teacher at Abbott Elementary. 

“C’mon, hun,” she had sighed over dinner a few weeks ago. “I think if you would give it a shot, you would like it… I know Abbott ain’t no suburban school, but it’s a hell of a lot better than some of the places you’ve applied.”

“I just don’t want people thinking I got the job because you’re my mom,” you tell her truthfully through a mouthful of ziti.

“Y/N, if you wanted the job, I could get it for you without an interview.”

“Isn’t that essentially what would happen if I applied and checked off that I have family within the district?”you challenge as you raise a brow.

She rolls her eyes. “You act like they actually look at resumes. Please, they’ll take pretty much anyone who has a pulse and a certification… how you think I got stuck with Darlene as a part of my team?”

“I guess.”

“And besides, you have your father’s last name… how are they gonna know you’re my daughter if you don’t have my last name?”

You have to admit, she’s right. So you send in your resume. And two days later, you receive an email saying that they’d like to see you for an interview. 

Your interview is practically a joke, and you’re offered a job on the spot. That night, Melissa and her work wife Barbara take you out for dinner.

“To Abbott’s newest member of the team,” Barbara makes a toast to you. “May it take you far in life.”

That was three years ago, and since then a lot has changed. A new principal has come in, there’s been a massive turnover in teachers, and you find yourself as a first grade teacher now. The only thing that hasn’t changed? The only one who knows you’re true identity at the school besides you and your mother is that Melissa Schemmenti is your mother. 

This year, a few new teachers start: Jacob Hill as the eighth grade social studies teacher, and Janine Teagues as the other second grade teacher.

And as much as your mother loves to rip on new coworkers of yours, you find yourself quite drawn to both of them. Sure, they’re a little nosey and love to hear all of the new gossip and find all of the deep secrets that are hidden in the walls of this old bomb shelter turned elementary school, but you like them. They haven’t found you out, not that you or Melissa really care, but it’s quite nice to have that little bubble around the two of you. 

They’ve come close though. Like the time that it came about that you share a name with Melissa’s daughter- who at this point they’re starting to believe doesn’t exist with the lack of pictures or stories.

“I’m telling you, I have a daughter,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she taps away at her phone. “I’m texting her right now.”

That is true- she is indeed texting you. Sure, she’s just texting you to tell you that you need to pick up lentils on the way home, but she isn’t lying to them.

“Show us.”

The redhead rolls her eyes, but she shows the two of them your conversation. “See? I’m just telling her she needs to pick up lentils if she wants me to make dinner tonight.”

Jacob’s brow raises as he catches the name at the top of the screen. “That’s odd… your daughter shares the same name with Y/N!”

“Well that would make sense,” your mother sighs, and you know she’s about to just out the two of you.

“It’s not like my name’s uncommon,” you jump in quietly. “I mean… really. Y/N. Not the most unique name in the world.”

Barbara raises a brow in your direction, and you give her a pleading look. “She’s right,” is all your mother’s work wife says. 

That seems to stop the conversation for now, but the adrenaline rushing through your bones doesn’t quit until you safely pull into your driveway that day- lentils in hand.

“I’m home, Ma,” you call as you open the front door. Her head pokes out from the kitchen. “And yes I got the lentils.”

“Good,” is all she says before heading back into the kitchen. You follow in her direction and set them next to her before picking up the glass of wine she’s already poured for you and sipping on it.

“Aye,” she clicks her tongue. “No hello? No ‘how was your day?’”

“I saw your forty minutes ago,” you snort.

“An’ a lot coulda happened in forty minutes,” she replies. When you raise your brow at her, she sighs. “Okay, so in that forty minutes I drove home, changed into my lounge clothes, and started dinner… but I was also thinkin’-”

“That’s dangerous,” you quip. At the look she gives you, you raise your hands in surrender. You might be a grown woman, but Melissa Schemmenti was still your mother. 

“I was thinkin’… you reacted kinda weird when I went to say that you were my daughter.”

You shrug. “I just don’t see why it’s anyone’s business but ours.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that, hun,” she says as she stirs in the lentils.

“Jus’ don’t want anyone thinkin’ I’m some sorta nepo baby,” you sigh. “I got this job on my own, an’ I don’t need shit from the Abbott crew.”

“They ain’t gonna give you shit, ‘specially once they know you’re mine, and I know a guy,” she laughs,

“Little do they know, half the time, I’m your guy,” you tease her.

“Well, if that’s what it is, that’s fine. I won’t say nothin’.”

“Thanks Ma,” you smile as you kiss her cheek. “I got some grading to do, so if you have anything that needs graded, just put it next to my stack.”

As time goes on, the group starts to catch on a bit more… like:

The fact that you’re just as good a cook as your mother. You’re always bringing in new things in your Tupperware containers- that just so happen to match Melissa’s… because they came from the same house. You quickly cover that one up with a roll of your eyes and a, “So we both shop at Marshalls, the containers ain’t that special.”

Or when you manage to get pink eye from one of your kids, and Janine notices that you have the same emerald eyes as your mother. “Green eyes aren’t as rare as you think, Janine,” you huff as you grab your lunch from the fridge before leaving for the day.

There’s the instance where you’re getting fiercely protective of your students as one of the teachers from Addington makes their way over to flaunt the fact that they have more resources down the street, and you fold your arms over your chest and square up with the woman in true Schemmenti fashion. That time, Gregory takes notice, but he’s new at this point, and you just roll your eyes as you storm away down to your mother’s room to rant. 

But no one ever really finds out. Not until…

“Kid, I’m having some people over for dinner tonight,” your mother tells you. “You joining?”

“Nah, I have some grading and prepping to get done tonight if I can,” you say. “But can you save me a bowl?”

“For a price,” she smirks.

“Hand me your spelling tests I know you’ve been stalling on grading,” you chuckle. She just points to her bag, and you go and pull them out before heading up to your room. “Have fun with your friends tonight. Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too, you little shit,” she calls back lovingly.

You’ve spent hours grading papers, and now you’re pouring over your lesson plans for the next week. You realize that you should probably do a craft that has to do with the upcoming holidays, and you find a few cute ones online. You know that you and your mother have a plethora of crafting supplies in the basement- you just don’t know what of. So, you start to make your way down the steps when you hear two very familiar voices: Jacob’s and Janine’s.

Knowing though that if you don’t go and look in the basement now, you never will and will just end up buying all new supplies and adding to the ridiculous amount of pipe cleaners and glitter glue you have stashed away.

You make your way through the kitchen. The three of them seem to be deep in a cooking lesson while also snacking on a few of the things your mother had already whipped up and don’t have a clue you’re walking through.

“You need any crafting supplies while I head down and see what we have?” you casually ask your mother as you pass.

You stop to watch as your two coworkers’ heads whip around in a near comical unison, mouths dropped in shock.

“Y/N?”

“Hey,” you give a half-committed wave. 

“What are you doing here?” Janine asks.

You furrow a brow and fold your arms over your chest. “I live here?”

“You live with Melissa?” Jacob gasps.

“Yeah? She’s my mom?”

“She’s your-“ Janine points a finger at you before turning around and looking at Melissa. “You’re her-”

“I told you guys I had a daughter, that she wasn’t fake,” your mom smirks. “You believe me now?”

“How did we never know?!” Jacob admonishes.

“Well, for starters: I don’t have the Schemmenti last name. Secondly, who’s business is it to know who my mother is?” you quip. “You know how private the Schemmenti family can be.”

They both look beyond shocked. “Well, why don’t you join us?”

“I really do have to go check for pipe cleaners and paper plates, and I know how to cook,” you laugh. “But I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

You head down the steps, and you hear your mother call, “The big jawns!”

“That’s what I figured, Ma!”

“What the hell?” Jacob whips around to your mother, and you laugh because you know she’s about to get grilled on the fact that you were indeed her ‘secret’ daughter.

You find what you need before heading back up the steps and for your room. “Have a good night y’all!”

The next morning, you’re sitting in the lounge sipping your coffee and sulking over the fact that you forgot your lunch on the counter this morning. Luckily for you, your mother brings it with her when she sees that you left it on the counter. She slips it into the staff fridge before sending you a text that it’s there. She preps her coffee and settles in next to you to grade a few more papers before everyone else stars trickling in to watch the news.

“Uh, hello?” Jacob questions when he walks in and everyone else is here now too. “Are we not going to talk about this?”

“Talk about what?” you and your mother ask at the same time.

“You two!” He gestures wildly between the two of you. “That you guys are related!”

“You two are related?” Gregory asks with a brow lifted.

“Uh, yeah!” Janine tells him.

“How do you know?”

“She told us last night when she called Melissa ‘Ma’!”

“Why didn’t any of us know this?” Jacob continues on.

“Know what?” Ava asks as she comes waltzing into the lounge to grab a coffee.

“That Melissa is Y/N’s mother!”

“I knew,” Barb states with a smirk on her face.

“Oh, damn! I was starting to think Melissa being a milf was just a rumor. I am happy to find out that it is entirely the truth,” the principal grins. “Greg, grab me a tea bag so I can sip on this tea!”

“There isn’t any tea, Ava,” you roll your eyes. “Yes, Melissa is my mom, but it really ain’t that big a deal.”

“Oh, it definitely is! Why were you so secretive about it?! Hmm?” Jacob asks as he sits next to you.

You shimmy away from him just slightly with a huff. “Because nobody needs to know a Schemmenti’s business except a Schemmenti. And, I didn’t want nobody thinking I got this job because of who I’m related to.”

“Y/N, please. You’re good at what you do, hun! You could get this job without the Schemmenti name, and you did!” Your mother cuts in and jostles you slightly.

“I also didn’t want to hear you-“ you look to Ava. “-calling my mother a milf more than I already do.”

“She is! And now that I see the two of you next to each other, I definitely see where your future is heading too!”

“Ava!” You, your mother, and the rest of the group scold.

The principal just shrugs. “Jus’ sayin’ the truth. Bye, y’all.”

Once she’s gone, you’re bombarded with questions. What’s it like having Melissa for a mother? Is your father really as bad as your mother makes him out to be? What was it like growing up? If you saw the horrors of Abbott, why did you work here? What were you like as a child?

“Enough,” you finally groan. “This is why I didn’t want people knowin’. I may be Melissa’s daughter, but-”

“Isn’t it weird calling your mom by her first name?” Jacob cuts you off.

“I’ve been yelling her first name since I was fourteen and realized she didn’t always respond to Mom or Ma, but always Melissa,” you reveal. “Now: she may be my mom, but I’m still a damn good teacher who got this position on my own volition. And y’all better stop asking these questions, or I know a guy.”

“And I’m the guy,” you mother states proudly, a proud grin on her face.

“No you ain’t. Uncle Vin is my guy.”

“While we’re at it,” Melissa sighs. “Stop asking me to get weed from my guy and just ask Y/N instead. She’s my guy for that.”

[thesilicontribesman]

Roman Grave Stone of Father and Son, Grosvenor Museum, Chester

This stone commemorates a man and his son and shows them enjoying a banquet in the afterlife.

The deceased man was called Flavius Callimorphus and his son was called Serapion. They are reclining on a couch next to a three-legged table and a large wine amphora.

This stone was discovered in 1874 when a sewer was being laid along the western city wall not far from the museum. It was found with two skeletons, a gold ring and a coin of Domitian.

[voraciousvore]

Voretober Day 19: Takeout

Day 1 | Previous (18) | Next (20)

Content Warning: NSFW/18+! Sexual content, M/m g/t soft fatal vore, unwilling to willing (I was in a hell of a mood writing this lol)

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: This oneshot can be read with no context. However, if you're familiar with my stories, Connie is the tiny businessman that almost gets eaten by Chester in this chapter of The Half-Blood Giant.

------ Takeout ------

Connie hated everything. He worked at a Chinese restaurant doing takeout deliveries, and he hated his job. He hated the smell of fried food and soy sauce that permeated the whole joint. He hated the garish paint colors on the cracked walls. He hated his stupid frumpy uniform. He hated his boss. He hated rude, demanding customers. He hated being forced to put on a fake smile and socialize with people. His hated what his life had become. 

His old job had been decent, before this hell had taken over his existence. Before, he’d worked at a boring white-collar desk job, where he didn’t have to be on his feet all day. It was perfect, except for one critical flaw: The job was located on the large side of the city, where the giants lived. 

Connie hated giants—though he hadn’t initially. He’d been strangely fascinated with them, despite the nagging undercurrent of instinctive fear that never left him while in their presence. They seemed to be just like humans, yet so much larger, so much grander. He had even developed a certain... fondness for a particular giant at his work, one that was handsome and gentle and kind and knew to move and speak softly around humans. 

Unfortunately, this gorgeous specimen of a giant man already belonged to another, a human woman no less. The jealousy and resentment Connie felt as a result poisoned any enjoyment he had for his job. He became grumpy and bitter as he was forced every day to watch his crush fawn over another, yearning to possess what he couldn’t have. The last straw came when, on his way home after a late night of overtime, a random giant snatched him up off the sidewalk and nearly devoured him. He miraculously survived the encounter, but he was done with dealing with giants. He quit and refused to return to the large side of the city. 

Regrettably, the small side where the humans resided was hardly fertile in regards to employment opportunities. Connie couldn’t find another cushy job like his old one, so he was forced to scrounge for whatever employer would take him. His financial reserves diminished, to the point where he had no choice but to sell his car and move into a roach-infested apartment, uncomfortably close to the gigantic barrier that divided the giants from the humans. 

So that’s how he found himself working as a delivery driver at a sketchy Chinese restaurant on the bad side of town. He didn’t even have his car anymore, and his employer didn’t provide him with one, so he had to ride a stupid crusty bike with a big basket on the back to carry the orders. By the end of his shift, he always came home greasy and sweaty and tired. He hated being dirty. 

Tonight, he was working the late shift. Business was slow, which was bad for Connie despite less work. Fewer orders meant fewer tips. The phone rang, and he watched with a vacant expression as his bored coworker answered with her dumb fake customer service voice. Her expression changed to one of confusion.  

“I’m sorry, did you say forty?” She wrote the order down on a slip, along with an address, and processed the payment. “Very well, sir. It’ll probably be around thirty minutes.” She hung up the phone with a pinched face. 

“Delivery?” Connie asked as she handed off the order to the kitchen. 

“Yeah… but it was a really weird order. 40 servings of fried rice with zero entrees. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” 

“Huh? Let me see that.” Connie grabbed the slip and checked the address. The street looked vaguely familiar, so he searched the location on his phone. His heart sank as his suspicions were confirmed. “Swift Street… that’s on the large side, isn’t it? Why would a giant order from a human restaurant?” 

His coworker shrugged, indifferent to Connie’s rising concern. “Fuck if I know. Either way, the guy paid, so you gotta deliver it.” 

Connie wanted to protest, but the words died on his lips as his boss glared at him from across the room. He didn’t want to get fired; he desperately needed the money if he was ever going to pull himself out of this hole. He shut his mouth, debating what to do as he observed the cooks frying up pans of rice and stuffing them in countless takeout boxes. He tried to quell his rising anxiety as he stacked the boxes high in his bike basket. His instincts were screaming at him to refuse, as he was reminded of unpleasant past encounters, but he felt trapped. 

“The tip for this job better be good,” he grunted as he decisively mounted his bike. He rode down the street, feeling like a stupid teenager on his stupid bike. He navigated the roads, past the occasional car, until he reached the railway station to cross the barrier. 

He used to board these railcars every day for his old commute. The automatic door slid open to an empty car, as untouched and pristine as he remembered, and he piled in with his bike. The door whooshed shut and the car rocketed away at a blistering pace. Connie felt the track drop like a roller coaster, along with his stomach, as the car shot down underground below the barrier before racing back up to the surface, to the opposite side. 

He couldn’t see much outside, since it was dark in comparison to the lit interior. Humungous silhouettes and shadows blocked out the distant glowing orbs of massive streetlights high in the sky. He felt sickness and fear clawing up his throat, restricting his breathing. He wanted to flee, but he was encased in steel and glass. He gripped the handlebars of his bike with clammy hands. 

All too soon, he arrived at his stop. He hesitated before stepping out of the railcar into the human-sized station, which was covered by an awning that concealed him from the giant world beyond. The car raced away, and Connie was alone. His heart rattled his ribs with frantic hammering and bile rose into his mouth, but he forced it back down. He was here now; no going back. 

A terrifying memory coursed through him, of his last night in the giant city. Walking alone, through a quiet evening just like this, briefcase in hand, before titanic fingers closed around him in a painful pinch. Thundering footsteps that thudded through him, a yawning maw below that threatened to send him to an acidic grave. He shuddered hard. The giant had, by some incredible stroke of fate, stopped before eating him, and apologized for losing control of his cravings, but Connie had been forever scarred by the traumatic ordeal. He’d had nightmares for weeks about it.  

Nightmares, that strangely enough had turned to sick fantasies. He’d dreamed about his giant crush doing the same thing, dropping him into his cavernous mouth and swallowing him whole, and he’d woken up covered in hot sweat and hard as a rock. He couldn’t understand the conflicting feelings that had awakened in him, of terrible fear and forbidden desire, a perverse thirst for impossible thrill and danger. Yet, in his waking hours when he was more rational, he’d been too scared to return to his desk job. He felt like a coward—a lowly, pathetic, disgruntled coward. 

He didn’t like that sentiment, not at all. He took a deep breath, hopped on his bike, and sped off into the night. The cool air rushed past his feverish skin as he pedaled like his life depended on it. He could only hope, in the vast streets, he would be too small to be noticed. He was grateful at least to be on a fast-moving bike instead of on foot, though he had to question if he’d be fast enough to outrun a giant predator. Probably not. 

Fortunately, the streets were mostly deserted due to the late hour. Connie was jittery and on edge, keeping to the shadows as best he could. The chirps of giant crickets, instead of providing a soothing ambience, sounded too loud to his ears. He nearly had a heart attack as a massive beast of a bug hopped in front of his path like a deer. He skirted around it and kept moving.  

He jumped his bike over sizeable cracks in the sidewalk and crossed enormous rocky stretches of asphalt and rough pavement, a challenge that absorbed a significant chunk of focus. Even so, he monitored his surroundings with obsessive attentiveness. In every looming shape he saw an eldritch horror, just waiting to emerge from the darkness and snatch him up. 

The threatening growl of an oncoming vehicle, heralded by distant beams of headlights, sent Connie into a panic. He hauled his bike into a patch of weeds as the mammoth metal monster roared past, blowing the tall grass in a terrible bluster. Connie hugged his arms around his bike as he hauled it back to the sidewalk, his heart racing. The red taillights of the giant vehicle turned around a distant corner, leaving him in an eerily quiet stretch of road. Giant houses rose up like silent sentinels miles into the sky, looking down on him. A bead of sweat rolled down his spine as he mounted his bike again. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. 

After what felt like an eternity of biking, Connie reached the correct house. He rode up to the porch, on an expansive sidewalk that cut through two fields of tall grass that comprised the front lawn. He stopped, unsure how to proceed. The wooden stairs were too tall for him to climb, each one being easily triple his height. Even if he made it to the towering door, there was no chance in hell he’d be able to ring the bell. Far above him, he saw the flutter of the curtains in the window. His breath caught in his chest. 

Connie hadn’t interacted with giants in a while, since he sought to avoid them at all costs. Even with the reminder of the megalithic buildings all around him, he wasn’t ready for the impossible scale of the colossal man that opened the door out of his reach. He nearly fainted at the sight: a fat, hairy, gargantuan giant, with a prominent belly hanging out from a sweat-stained discolored tank top that was too small to conceal it. He had a face like a bulldog, with unkempt dark hair, a scraggly mustache, and whiskers on his chin and neck too sparse to call a beard. Huge shoes plodded on the porch platform, creaking the wood under the giant’s prodigious weight. He breathed heavily as he descended from the steps down to the cement, rumbling the ground beneath him enough to rattle the basket on Connie’s bike. 

Connie gaped up, speechless, pinned in place like a bug in a display case. The giant scratched his belly and grunted. As he examined the tiny man at his feet, his lips twisted into a sinister smile, exposing large crooked teeth. Connie let out an involuntary whimper. The handlebars of his bike slid through his fingers and it crashed to the ground, dropping takeout boxes full of rice all over the pavement. 

The giant frowned, and Connie panicked. He turned tail and fled like a frightened rabbit. He got to the end of the square of sidewalk before a thick pair of fingers pinched the back of his shirt and lifted him clean off the ground. Connie yelped as he saw the ground plummet below him in a sickening rush of vertigo. Cold sweat bled from his pores as a pair of huge dark eyes hovered before him with a menacing glare. A pudgy finger, thicker around than his entire body, poked at him with curiosity. 

“Hmmm,” the giant rumbled. “I thought you’d be bigger.” 

“H-huh?” Connie stuttered with confusion. “No, no, I’m a human, you ordered from a human restaurant... you must’ve made a mistake...” 

The enormous man didn’t acknowledge his words and continued to speak. “And those limbs of yours are so scrawny. Hardly any meat on ’em.” The giant plucked at his chin hairs. “Ah well. You’ll do, I suppose.” 

“E-excuse me?” Connie sputtered. The giant didn’t respond, instead bending over to retrieve the diminutive bike with the rice boxes, scooping everything up into a spacious palm. He huffed with substantial lungs as he straightened back up and lumbered into his house. Connie felt sick as he dangled precariously from the giant's grip, the world swimming before his eyes. He was deeply unsettled, being so high up, even more so with where he was being carried. “H-hey, wait a second, where are you taking me? P-put me down!”  

The giant persisted in ignoring him as he shut the door behind him. Connie was electrified with fear. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He didn’t dare to think what this giant man had planned for him, but it couldn’t be anything good. The giant trudged into a huge kitchen space, though it felt cramped with his hulking girth filling the space. He held up the bike and gazed at it for a moment, spinning the back wheel with the tip of his finger as if it were a child’s toy, before setting it aside. He opened a cupboard and extracted an immense dinner plate, placing it on the countertop with a dull clatter. He began to methodically crush the boxes of rice between his digits over the plate, releasing their contents and casting the packaging into the garbage. 

“P-p-please, Mr. Giant, let me go. You don’t have to give me a tip or anything. I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again,” Connie pleaded, his voice rising in pitch as terror shot through him. “I apologize for dropping the food, I didn’t mean to anger you-” 

“Shut up,” the giant boomed with mild irritation. Connie clammed up, still trembling uncontrollably. His teeth chattered in his skull as the multitudes of rice orders produced a pile that still looked small on the oversized plate. Connie yelped with fright as the giant unexpectedly raised him up and tore at his clothes, stripping them off with a single tug of his goliath fingers. He plunked the tiny man, stark naked, onto the plate. 

Connie jumped to his feet, but was flicked back down with a finger that felt like a sledgehammer on his back. He made another attempt, only to fall over as the plate was lifted beneath him. He bounced up and down on the plate as it rocked with every stride of the giant, until the plate landed on an extensive dinner table. The giant seated himself, looming over poor Connie with his bulging fat pecs at the human’s eye level. 

“Nooooo,” Connie moaned, comprehending his fate. He realized that escape was impossible, and running from such a titanic being would be futile. No matter what, he was going to die. He flinched as the giant raised his thick arm above him, and a dark liquid splashed all over him and the bed of rice. The strong odor of soy sauce smacked his nose. 

“You’ll do for a snack, I suppose,” the giant growled, thudding his arm back on the table with a crash. Connie jolted, but the panic coursing through his blood and muscles had no other outlet except for violent quivering. He cried softly as a fork with prongs as long as his couch scooped up enough rice to feed an entire family. Forty orders of rice would be maybe a couple of bites for the giant, if that. 

“Why?” Connie whined. “Why would you do this? I won’t be nearly enough to fill your belly.” 

“Mmmm... for the novelty of live prey, I suppose,” the giant thundered, finally deigning to respond to Connie’s outbursts. He chewed the mouthful of rice thoughtfully. “I’ve heard humans taste exceptionally delicious.” His capacious stomach roared hungrily beneath the table, as if the conversation had whetted his appetite. He swallowed and grinned, a dribble of drool running down his chin. Connie watched the lump bob in his pudgy neck with consternation. 

“I’m a person, not food,” Connie argued desperately. “I have a life. I have family. I have...” He stopped, closing his mouth. His pleas felt like bitter lies. His life was torture. His family didn’t care about him. He had nothing: no money, no friends, no lovers. He had nothing but regrets and sorrows. 

His thoughts soured further as he thought about his past life, the memories flashing by like the windows on a train. His crush. That handsome giant at his old job, whom he yearned for with all his heart. His reminiscing took a darker turn, as he was reminded of his secret somnolent fantasies, of his benevolent dream man swallowing him whole. Those powerful dreams scratched a primordial itch within him that he couldn’t understand or explain exactly why they resonated so deeply, only that he needed them badly, despite his fear of the deadly consequences. 

The giant grinned with droll amusement, observing Connie’s violent emotional upheavals. He dug his fork under the tasty morsel and lifted him up to his face. Connie didn’t protest or fight, slumping limply on the fork as he approached the line of plush lips. He watched as the lips parted before him and the maw gaped open wide, revealing a soggy cavern of flesh lined with craggy ivory teeth. A breath originating from deep within the cavity flushed him with warmth. 

The fork thrust him inside. He splatted on the cushion of the massive wet tongue, which rippled with purpose, absorbing his flavor. The teeth closed in a cage around him and the mouth enveloped him in a smothering embrace, the tongue wrapping around him, rolling over him like a wave, weighing heavily on his tiny frame. Connie gasped for breath as every inch of his skin was caressed with slimy taste buds, rubbed down, and drenched with saliva. The sensations were so real, so overstimulating, so intense, to the point where he could barely handle it. As terrified as he was, the experience was... 

He was going to die anyway; there was no point in denying, or clinging to false hope, or holding himself back. He let go. He cast aside his shame and guilt and self-loathing with reckless abandon. He allowed himself to unleash the erotic feelings he’d been holding back, to fantasize, to indulge. He imagined the object of his desire, his special giant, his secret forbidden lover, rolling him around on his tongue. This was his mouth, and he had chosen Connie as a treat to satiate his hunger. 

He grew hard with arousal, grinding his groin against the giant’s tongue and moaning with pleasure. The tongue slammed him against the teeth, dragged him along the molars, and pressed him up against the hard palate at the top like a passionate lover. He was slurped into a cheek and sucked on, then tossed back over the crest of teeth towards the gullet. He blushed as his heart thrummed and sang with joy. He felt so alive, in a way he had never felt in all his years of life, especially not in his more recent darker days. 

He slid headfirst into the gullet, wriggling with unrestrained passion. The walls of the throat crushed him in a powerful embrace as the giant swallowed. Connie could hardly breathe as he was squeezed down, but the pressure on his dick, the heat and the wetness, made him burst. He ejaculated as he plunged down in the throes of ecstasy. Just when he felt like he wouldn’t be able to bear it any longer, his head emerged in open air, swiftly followed by his shoulders and chest, until he tumbled through space and plopped into the giant’s stomach. 

Connie gasped for breath in the boiling hot chamber. The air was thin down here and stung with potent fumes. The acid tingled at his skin, eager to dissolve him into unrecognizable sludge. The elation he felt, however, outweighed his discomfort. He didn’t care about anything else anymore. He pretended he was inside his giant lover, and he was sublimely happy. The slimy walls churned and rocked him as he sank into their squishy softness, and the throbbing ambience of the heart beating and lungs breathing soothed him into a state of calm. As he gradually lost consciousness, he closed his eyes and smiled as he thought about his precious love: Martin.     

[ancestorsalive]

Photo: Statue of Aethelflaed, Lady of the Mercians, who passed away in 918. Her nephew Aethelstan, future king of all England, looks up at her.

"Aethelflaed was one of three daughters of Alfred the Great, and her name meant "noble beauty". She married Aethelraed of Mercia at some point during the 880s and while this union meant a strong alliance between Wessex and Mercia the pair embarked on a "Mercian revival" with the city of Worcester at its centre.

When Aethelraed died in 911 after years of ill-health Aethelflaed remained as Lady of Mercia and held this position until her death, making her the only female ruler of a kingdom during the entire Anglo-Saxon era. The only compromise she made was to agree to her brother Edward, now king of Wessex, taking some of Mercia's southern lands under his control.

Their father Alfred the Great had fortified dozens of Wessex towns as "burhs" and Edward continued this work, connecting his burhs with those in Mercia to represent a united front against viking incursions, and it wasn't long before this was put to the test.

A force of vikings, pushed out of Ireland, landed in the mouth of the Dee after unsuccessfully trying to take land in Wales, and asked Aethelflaed if they could settle for a time outside the old Roman walled town of Chester. Permission was granted but the Norsemen raided and robbed the area at will so Aethelflaed led a force to shut them down. She had Chester fortified and waited for the inevitable viking attack, it came and was repulsed, the Scandinavian chancers sent packing in complete disarray.

This same Norse army was brought to battle at Tettenhall near Wolverhampton where Aethelflaed's forces destroyed them. The writing was now on the wall - the vikings had to go. Together with Edward she raided deep into Danelaw territory on a mission to rescue the bones of St Oswald - who had been killed and ritually dismembered by the pagan king of Mercia Penda - from a church in Lincolnshire then brought the relics down to Gloucestershire where a new church was built to house them...more on that presently.

The burhs continued to be built, and the Dane strongholds fell as Aethelflaed campaigned hard against them. Her forces defeated three Norse armies before finally taking the city of Derby, then Leicester, before the Danes of York came to her to pledge their loyalty. The vikings in Anglia capitulated to Edward and so all of England south of Northumbria was now back under Anglo-Saxon rule.

Aethelflaed died at Tamworth in 918 and so will be forever associated with the town, but she was carried down to Gloucestershire to be buried in the church she had built for St Oswald. Unfortunately the monastery there fell into decline over the centuries, was dissolved in 1536, then almost completely destroyed during the English Civil War. Nobody knows where Aethelflaed's resting place is now, but the ruins of St Oswalds are as good a place as any as a pilgrimage destination for those wishing to follow in the footsteps of the Lady of Mercia." - Source: Hugh Williams via Medieval England on FB.

Photo: Statue of Aethelflaed and Aethelstan at Tamworth Castle, by EG Bramwell, unveiled in 1913.

[detroitlib]

Architectural drawing by Chester B. Price of a proposed interior for the Technology and Science Department. Detroit Public Library. Room contains bookshelves, tables and chairs. Inscribed on rear wall: "Patents" and "An inscription here to glory the achievements of science and invention and identify the City of Detroit. A.D. [undecipherable]." Printed on front: "Chester B. Price, 1945." Stamped on back: "Reproduction photograph by Drix Duryea, New York. Credit must be given in publication."

Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library

[butterfly-weed]

DSMP Place-Name Suffixes and Meanings

kind of maybe accidentally some prose? I DIDNT MEAN TO I SWEAR

L’manberg and Manberg———

The suffix, “-berg,” or, “-burg,” comes from the German word for castle or fortress. Since many castles ended up becoming starting points for greater civilization/urbanization, the suffix became almost a synonym for city.

L’manberg was a small patch of land, defined by it’s towering walls. It was built with the intent of protecting its inhabitants. It evolved, over time, to be a sprawling mess of homes and shops, roads and churches, museums, plazas- it grew to be a town. Open without it’s walls, a fortress no longer. Then, a crater. The citizens it swore to protect having fled, having abandoned it if they could, lest they help bring it down.

Pogtopia———————————

“Topia,” essentially just means any geographical place. It isn’s a civilization, town, city, anything, just a place. It could also be used to indicate a paradise.

This name feels like a sick irony. It was just a place. First, it was a campaign, a political group aiming for their version of utopia. Then, it was a ravine. It was a time period, defined only by it’s geographical separation from home. It devolved, festering mania and unwellness, self destruction and spiraling, all the while bearing the name of paradise.

Snowchester-————————-

When a place-name ends in -chester, it indicates a military camp or fort. Chester meaning, “place of soldiers.”

Snowchester itself was a last-ditch attempt at safety. It’s secluded and armed, the base of operations for nuclear weaponry. Truly, it was a place of soldiers. A place of Tubbo and Jack, two weary and sharp war veterans, trying to feel safe. Equally, it was a place of protection and family. Of, “I will be strong so you can be safe.”

Logstedshire-————————

Stead means, “enclosed pasture,” in Old English. A place-name ending in, “shire,” indicates that it is owned or governed by a government official. It is also the French word for, “county.” The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines a shire as, “a town where a court of superior jurisdiction…sits.”

Logstedshire; an enclosed pasture. A plains biome, sprawling and open, but so muted. So closed. Confined. Trapped. A place of harsh discipline, with a, “superior jurisdiction,” looming over its lonely occupant. How mocking to call it a county, an extension of a homeland, when it’s sole purpose was to be separate from it. Enclosed pasture, ruled by a superior jurisdiction, with a feeble string tying it to L’manberg in the form of the title, “county.” Enclosed forevermore, harboring the abuse like a time capsule, ash and dust undisturbed.

Boomerville and Rutabagville—

“-ville,” is a suffix used to indicate a village/town, or in the Middle Ages, a farming community.

Two towns, built for the purpose of getting away from the chaos, of having a small, peaceful land. Built so the few inhabitants could say, “I live here, I work here, the sun is gentle on my front porch.” So far out of the way that no one would notice if they just…disappeared. No one would bother check. One town abandoned, one town robbed. Both lay empty, at the end of the day.

[illuminopseudonymous]

Every single Brawl Stars character as songs

So, I was unhappy with my prior posts on this topic, both because of the song choices I made and because I didn't properly credit the musicians behind them. Ergo, I'm going to compile all of the brawlers into a single list below the cut, and then update and reblog this post each time a new brawler is released.

Feedback regarding song choices is encouraged if you think you have a better fit for a character.

8-Bit: "Pac-Man Fever" by Buckner & Garcia

Amber: "Burnin' Up" by A Flock of Seagulls

Angelo: "There! Right There!" from Legally Blonde: The Musical (written by Nell Benjamin and Laurence O'Keefe)

Ash: "Trash Day" by "Weird" Al Yankovic

Barley: "Bottle Action" by Ms. B'Havin

Bea: "Lord of the Hornets" by Robert Calvert

Belle: "Disciple of Lightning" by DJ the S

Berry: "Skipper Dan" by "Weird Al" Yankovic

Bibi: "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" by Albert von Tilzer and Jack Norworth

Bo: "The Wild West is Where I Want to Be" by Tom Lehrer

Bonnie: "Human Cannonball" by Webb Wilder

Brock: "Rocket Jump Waltz" from Team Fortress 2 (by Valve Studio Orchestra)

Bull: "Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen

Buster: "Rock-And-Roll Nerd" by Tim Minchin

Buzz: "Run This Town" by JAY-Z featuring Rhianna and Kanye West

Byron: "A Little Heart-To-Heart" from Team Fortress 2 (by Valve Studio Orchestra)

Carl: "Diggy Diggy Hole" by The Yogscast

Charlie: "Spider-Man (1967) Theme" by Paul Francis Webster and Bob Harris

Chester: "I Remember Larry" by "Weird Al" Yankovic

Chuck: "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor" by Johann Sebastian Bach

Clancy: "Crab Rave" by Noisestorm

Colette: "Every Breath You Take" by The Police

Colt: "Shoot to Thrill" by AC/DC

Cordelius: "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane

Crow: "Young Dumb and Ugly" by ""Weird Al" Yankovic

Darryl: "He's a Pirate" from Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl (Composed by Klaus Badelt)

Doug: "Surf Wax America" by Weezer

Draco: "Through the Fire and Flames" by Dragonforce

Dynamike: "T.N.T." by AC/DC

Edgar: "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana

El Primo: "Mexican Wrestler" by Jill Sobule

Emz: "Respectless" from Hazbin Hotel (Composed by Sam Haft, Andrew Underberg, Andrew Alderete, Gooseworx, and Parry Gripp)

Eve: "Mean Green Mother from Outer Space" from Little Shop of Horrors (Composed by Alan Menken)

Fang: "Kung-Fu Fighting" by Carl Douglas

Frank: "Fireflies" by Owl City

Gale: "Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old)" by Garth Brooks

Gene: "Arabian Nights" from Aladdin (Performed by Robin Williams)

Gray: "Scheming Weasel" by Kevin MacLeod

Griff: "Big Boss Man" by Jimmy Reed

Grom: "Main Theme" from Bomberman (Composed by Jun Chikuma)

Gus: "Turn the Lights Off" by Tally Hall

Hank: "Send the Marines" by Tom Lehrer

Jacky: "Poundcake" by Van Halen

Janet: "Death from Above" by Turbonegro

Jessie: "More Gun" from Team Fortress 2 (by Valve Studio Orchestra)

Juju: "Friends on the Other Side" from The Princess and the Frog (performed by Keith David)

Kenji: "Title Theme" from Fruit Ninja (Luke Muscat)

Kit: "Nyanyanyanyanyanyanya!"/ "Nyan Cat Theme" by daniwell featuring Hatsune Miku

Larry & Lawrie: "Back to Back" by Pretty Maids

Leon: "Right Behind You" from Team Fortress 2 (by Valve Studio Orchestra)

Lily: "Return of the Giant Hogweed" by Genesis

Lola: "Big Shot" by Billy Joel

Lou: "Sky-High Sundae" from Mario Kart Tour (composer unknown)

Maisie: "What's Up Danger" from Into the Spider-Verse (by Blackway & Black Caviar)

Mandy: "Cookie Land" from Mario Kart: Double Dash!! (Composed by Shinobu Tanaka and Kenta Nagata)

Max: "Caffeine" by Psychostick

Meg: "Peach-ball Launches! Robobot Armor" from Kirby: Planet Robobot (Composed by Hirozaku Ando and Jun Ishikawa)

Melodie: "Miku" by Anamanguchi featuring Hatsune Miku

Mico: "Beverly Hills" by Weezer

Moe: "Cripple's Shield Wall" by The Knight in Leslie Fish

Mortis: "Hate the Day" by Behind the Scenes

Mr. P: "Hotel California" by The Eagles

Nani: "Time in a Bottle" by Jim Croce

Nita: "Wild Child" by The Doors

Otis: "Graffiti Crimes" by Mi-Sex

Pam: "You Will Be Okay" from Helluva Boss (Composed by Sam Haft and Andrew Underburg, performed by Bryce Pinkham)

Pearl: "Pass the Biscuits, Mirandy" by Spike Jones

Penny: "You Are a Pirate" from LazyTown (by Stefan Karl Steffanson and composed by Máni Svavarsson)

Piper: "A Spoonful of Sugar" from Mary Poppins (Composed by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman)

Poco: "Spooky Scary Skeletons" by Andrew Gold

R-T: "Eye in the Sky" by The Alan Parsons Project

Rico: "Pinball Wizard" by The Who

Rosa: "Garden Song" by David Mallett

Ruffs: "Send the Marines" by Tom Lehrer

Sam: "Super Macho Man" from Punch-Out!! Wii (Composed by Mike Peacock, Darren Radtke, and Chad York)

Sandy: "Enter Sandman" by Metallica

Shade: to be released

Shelly: "Faster Than a Speeding Bullet" from Team Fortress 2 (By Valve Studio Orchestra)

Spike: "Super Mario Bros. Desert Theme" from Super Mario Maker 2 (Composed by Koji Kondo)

Sprout: "Trees" by Tom Lehrer

Squeak: "Slime Creatures from Outer Space" by "Weird Al" Yankovic

Stu: "Drive Fast (The Stuntman)" by Bruce Springsteen

Surge: "Rules of Nature" from Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance (Composed by Jamie Christopherson)

Tara: "Hot Rails to Hell" by Blue Oyster Cult

Tick: "Drop Da Bomb" by Doctor Steel

Willow: "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Fishmen" by H. P. Lovecraft Historical Society

[hepdenerose]

Illuminating Chester's Past

Tuesday morning, a clattering sound alerted me to a man rummaging through recycling bins in the back yard. Oblivious to me staring with disbelief through the window, he shook his head at another bloke over the gate and left.  Were they recyclers, vigilantes or drug dealers?  Mostly sunny if cold, we spent the day sightseeing.  Recreating old postcards from back home of the Eastgate Clock proved…

[whatevergreen]

ACT UP Paris protesters on the Champs-Elysées in Paris, France, December 1, 1994. AP Photo/Laurent Rebours

ACT UP protester Kendall Morrison in New York City in 1989. Chester Higgins Jr.

ACT UP’s first demonstration, known as the Wall Street march, March 24, 1987 - protesters being arrested at nearby Trinity Church - John Sotomayor

1997 ACT UP poster condemning drug companies, congress and Clinton.

1980s-90s ACT UP protests.

If protests aren't at least disruptive, they are meaningless.

[lovevalley45]

#fictober24 - day seventeen

"Strangest thing I ever heard."

original fiction (power payback) (continuation of this fic)

word count: 1837

tw: general medical stuff

“Your friend is a botanokinetic, right?”

Magni turned in his chair to see Hillson hovering over the edge of his cubicle. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Odd call just came in. There was a guy found half-dead in his apartment by his coworker. BCPD suspect foul play, but the guy is a burnt out botanokinetic.” Hillson rested his arms over the top of his cubicle wall. “I told them I’d send a guy for a second opinion.” 

“Yeah, I can do that.” He saved what he had been working on and stood. “I’ll head down to the station now.”

“Oh, no. You’re going to Bright City General.” 

Damnit. Magni hated hospitals. Although, he hadn’t met many with a perverse love for them, so maybe that was just the general opinion on them. 

“Fine.”

“I’ll tell Detective Pallas that you’re on your way. She’ll be happy to see you.” Hillson gave him a grin that didn’t reassure him. 

As Magni drove from the office to the hospital, he wondered what exactly his boss thought it meant that his friend was a botanokinetic. He guessed it was fair; he’d spent enough time with the Marottos to learn how botanokinesis could manifest. But he was far from an expert. 

Detective Pallas, a tall, Black woman with lots of curly hair, was waiting for him when he came in. She seemed impatient, foot tapping as he walked up. He could guess her cooperation was not voluntary today. 

“Mr. Quinn,” she said. “I thought this case might be a bit too organic for you.” 

“I have experience with botanokinetics,” he told her. 

“Mm.” As he signed in as a visitor, Pallas gave him the run down. “Our victim, for the moment, is Chester Holt. 25, male, works as a sales rep for a dentistry equipment company. His coworker, Fernando Diaz, stopped by to check up on him and found him unconscious.”

“So you think it’s foul play.” He stuck the badge to his chest. 

“Might be. The paramedics on the scene gave me the run-down. Strangest thing I ever heard.” As they walked to the elevator, she explained, “The obstruction in his throat was a bunch of flowers. Loads. Fully rooted down his airway. They had to operate on his airway to try and remove them.”

Magni winced. “Sounds painful.” 

“Yeah. Vic’s still recovering, can’t really speak. The coworker who found him offered to talk to us, but he has a different story.”

“Okay, let’s hear him out.” 

As they went up to the third floor, Magni recognized where they were heading - the Talent ward. It’d been about a decade since Sprout had been admitted for her burnout, when he’d spent hours here trying to cheer her up. 

The hospital room Detective Pallas led him to similarly held no life. He wondered if they’d enforced the same “no live flowers” rule or if it was just too soon. 

The man in the bed - presumably Chester - was hooked up to a ventilator, his eyes opening slightly as they walked in. He was pale, black curls played out on the pillow under him. The glimpse of his eyes that he got revealed multicolored irises - one bright emerald, the other warm brown. 

Beside him, another man sat with an anxious look. There were bags under his dark brown eyes, his chestnut hair rumpled. He stood with wide eyes when he saw Detective Pallas.

“Am I being arrested?” he asked. 

“No. I just want you to give your testimony again.” Pallas seemed to remember that Magni was standing there. “This is Mr. Quinn, one of our consultants for Talent-based crimes. Mr. Quinn, Fernando Diaz.”

Fernando sat back down. “Right. Okay. I don’t know much about Talents, but I heard what his talantologist said. They don’t think it was someone else.” 

Magni was inclined to believe him, but Pallas asked, “Mr. Diaz, if you can just tell us what happened again?” 

“Yeah. So, I was coming by Chester’s place to bring him soup. He was feeling under the weather the day before. I thought it was just a bad cold. But when I knocked, he didn’t answer. I was worried. He had sounded awful, and I thought- I don’t know what I thought.” He started to wring his hands. “The door wasn’t locked, so I came in.” At this, he glanced at Pallas, like he was ready to be reprimanded. 

“You were just trying to see if he was alright,” Magni said, only to receive daggers from Pallas. “What did you see?” 

“Blood.” Fernando laid his hands out on his knees. “The bathroom door was open and the sink was covered in it. That, and flowers. Little purple ones?” 

“Geraniums?”

“What was the state of the victim when you arrived?” Detective Pallas asked, ignoring him. 

“He was laid out of the couch. I didn’t see anything in the throat, but I could tell he was having trouble breathing. And he wasn’t conscious, I couldn’t wake him up, so I called 911.” 

She glanced over at Magni. The testimony wasn’t helpful, but he asked, “Were you aware that Mr. Holt was a Talent?” 

“No. I never suspected.” 

He looked over at Chester, who had closed his eyes. But he could tell he was still awake. That information wasn’t a surprise. 

“Did you think he was keeping any secrets?” Detective Pallas asked. 

“No, Chester would never. He wasn’t that type of guy. I guess aside from being a Talent, but-” Fernando sighed. 

Chester’s eyebrows furrowed. Magni wondered what he was thinking about. It must have sucked to be talked about when you couldn’t even respond. 

“You said you talked to his talantologist. Do you remember their name?” 

“Dr. Merlo. I think.” 

Now that was a familiar name. 

“Thank you, Mr. Diaz.” Magni turned to Detective Pallas. “I’ll talk to her.” 

“Alright. I have a few more questions for Mr. Diaz here,” she said. 

Magni nodded and stepped out into the hall. He was ready to go to the nurse’s station when he caught the doctor stepping out of another room. It hadn’t been that long since he’d seen her; Dr. Merlo wasn’t his doctor, but he’d had to ensure Sprout didn’t skip out on her appointments enough that he saw her around. 

“Dr. Merlo?” he asked, stopping her. 

“Oh. Hello.” Behind her round glasses, she blinked, before recognition set in. “Yes. Magni Sempers. I remember you.” 

“It’s Quinn, now, actually.” Magni cleared his throat. “I’m with Hillson and his consulting agency now, helping the BCPD look into what happened with Chester Holt. I know you can’t say much on his Talent and his previous burnout, but-” 

Dr. Merlo straightened her coat. “I understand. Can we step into my office?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

He followed her into her office - a small space that seemed more like a closet, with just enough space for them both to sit. But it provided a nice bit of privacy. 

“Just like with Ms. Marotto, I was Chester’s talantologist at the time he had his burnout. It was a few years after hers. It was an odd case - the flowers had began germinating inside his lungs and started to choke him out.” Dr. Merlo folded her hands on top of her desk. “You know how kinetics’ abilities can be triggered by emotions, even without their realizing.” 

“I know.” 

“That was what his mother had suspected. Whereas sometimes it can be anger, or fear, grief can be just as strong of an emotion. The reasons Talents often experience burnout in their teenage years isn’t just because they don’t have as much experience with their abilities, it’s because their emotions can be so much more intense. Add hormones, and-” She mimed an explosion. 

“So what happened?” 

“Burnout by broken heart,” Dr. Merlo answered. “And it manifested just like this.”

“You never thought there was any foul play,” Magni said. 

She shrugged. “That’s what I told the detective. I’m just not sure what could have triggered a flare up.”

He thought of Fernando, the slight pain in Chester’s expression when he talked about if he had any secrets. “I think I might know.”

When he headed back to Chester’s room, he went up to Detective Pallas. “Can I have the room to talk to Mr. Holt alone?”

She looked at him skeptically. “You’re not gonna get much out of him.” 

“I’ll get what I need.” 

“Alright.” Detective Pallas sighed. “Mr. Diaz. Mr. Quinn needs the room.” 

“Okay.” With a wary glance, he followed the detective out of the room. 

As Magni took Fernando’s seat, Chester opened his eyes again and looked over at him. 

“Relax. I’m not here to shake you down.” He crossed his legs. “I talked to your doctor.”

Chester closed his eyes again and leaned his head back into the pillow. 

“That Fernando’s a good guy. He sat here with you this whole time?” 

He nodded, or as much as he could with the ventilator. But he didn’t meet Magni’s eyes. 

“My friend says I can be a little too saccarhine for my own good. I love a love story, you know? And Dr. Merlo told me that your burnout, the one that planted those seeds, was set off by a broken heart.” 

This time, he looked back over at him, eyes more aware than they’d been the whole time he’d been here. But there was no anger, only sadness. 

“You love him, don’t you?” 

Chester raised his hand, gesturing towards the pen and paper on the table. Magni handed the pen to him, holding the paper steady as he wrote: DON’T TELL HIM.

He sighed, leaning against the edge of his bed. “I’m a terrible liar, so I’ll just be honest with you. I can’t keep your secret. Unless you want the police to keep chasing an attacker that doesn’t exist. But if we’re being real…” Magni glanced out the door. “I don’t think you’re such the fool that you think you were. If your choice of flower means anything.” 

Again, he beckoned him to bring the paper close. THANK YOU. 

“You’re welcome.” Magni stood back up. 

As he left the room, Fernando came up to him. “Did you get anything out of him? What happened?” 

“Ask him yourself,” he told him. 

Detective Pallas narrowed her eyes, walking beside him to watch Fernando go back inside. “What did you do?” 

“Nothing. Just confirmed that it wasn’t foul play. And maybe played Cupid.” 

“Damn. Who knew a techno-geek like you was so soft-hearted?” she asked. 

“Rude.” He stepped back. “I’m going back to Hillson. I’ll send you a detailed report and the invoice for my excellent matchmaking skills.” 

“Jesus.” 

Once he was out of the hospital and back in his car, Magni took out his earplugs and opened his phone. He ignored the technochatter of a dozen notifications and called Sprout. 

“Hey. Remember those fanfics you read in high school?” he asked her. 

“How do I know you’re about to tell me a wild ass story?” Sprout replied. 

He grinned. “Trust me. You’ll love it.” 

[terrakan]

The 9 Most Haunted Places in Los Angeles You Won’t Forget

Los Angeles isn’t just a city of dreams—it’s also one of ghosts and whispers from the past. Beneath its glamorous surface, LA hides a history filled with mystery, tragedy, and restless spirits. These nine places aren’t just local landmarks; they’re where the line between the living and the dead feels disturbingly thin. Here’s a journey through LA’s most haunted spots…if you dare.

1. The Cecil Hotel (Downtown LA)

Once a symbol of high society, the Cecil Hotel quickly gained infamy for dark happenings. From the chilling story of Elisa Lam’s unsolved death to the haunting presence of serial killers like Richard Ramirez, this hotel has been the setting for countless tragedies. Guests and ghost hunters alike report disembodied whispers, shadowy figures, and an overwhelming feeling of dread as they walk through its eerie halls.

2. The Queen Mary (Long Beach)

This luxury liner turned haunted hotel is home to tragic memories and, many believe, wandering spirits. From the ghostly figures of sailors seen roaming the decks to the sounds of children’s laughter around the drained pool, the Queen Mary’s history of death and despair seems to live on with the spirits of those who perished onboard.

3. Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel (Hollywood)

Marilyn Monroe and Montgomery Clift may be long gone, but their spirits seem to linger here. Guests have reported seeing Monroe’s reflection and hearing Clift’s trumpet in the dead of night. The Hollywood Roosevelt carries the spirits of LA’s golden era, inviting you to step back into a more glamorous yet ghostly past.

4. The Silent Movie Theatre (Fairfax District)

Built in 1942, this theater has a dark history that goes beyond the films it once showcased. Its original owner, John Hampton, used toxic chemicals to preserve film reels, contributing to his mysterious death. And in 1997, the theater’s new owner was murdered in the lobby. Today, visitors report cold drafts, unexplained whispers, and a ghostly presence watching over the audience.

5. Griffith Park (Los Feliz)

A sunny escape by day, Griffith Park takes on a much darker character as night falls. Rumored to be cursed by its former owner, Dona Petronilla, this sprawling space has witnessed fires, strange apparitions, and eerie sounds near the old zoo and haunted picnic table. It’s a place where nature and the supernatural seem to meet.

6. The Los Feliz Murder Mansion (Los Feliz)

In 1959, Dr. Harold Perelson committed a grisly murder-suicide in this grand mansion, leaving it frozen in time. Everything from furniture to holiday decorations has been untouched for decades. Shadowy figures and whispers reportedly haunt this eerie relic of a family tragedy, creating one of LA’s most unsettling stories.

7. The Chateau Marmont (West Hollywood)

A favorite hideaway for Hollywood’s elite, this glamorous hotel holds a tragic history. John Belushi’s untimely death in Bungalow 3 and Howard Hughes’ odd behavior are just part of its lore. Guests claim to feel inexplicable chills and hear faint voices echoing through the halls, making the Chateau a mysterious blend of Hollywood charm and spectral eeriness.

8. The Doheny Mansion (Chester Place)

This historic mansion has seen its share of tragedy, with the murder-suicide of Ned Doheny and his secretary adding to its mystique. The grand estate now carries an eerie weight, with visitors reporting shadowy figures and footsteps echoing through its opulent halls, as though the past is never far behind.

9. Linda Vista Community Hospital (Boyle Heights)

Once a bustling hospital, Linda Vista now stands abandoned and hauntingly silent. Known for eerie voices, cold spots, and apparitions in its decaying corridors, it’s become a favorite for ghost hunters. The spirits of patients who passed within its walls seem to linger, making it one of LA’s most unsettling haunted places.

Whether you believe in the paranormal or not, these places have an energy that’s hard to ignore. They remind us that LA’s history isn’t just about fame and fortune; it’s also a city where the past whispers its secrets to those willing to listen. Next time you’re in LA, take a moment to explore beyond the glitz and glamor, where ghostly histories wait to be uncovered. 👻