#Grant is the homeless man.

[one-in-a-million-fishsticks]

Alucard: "I've got three friends, that's it. A homeless man, a twelve-year-old boy, and a hooker!"

[isa-ah]

hate that people try SOOO hard to push the narrative that taking testosterone won't make someone angry or horny or whatever. I don't know how to explain how it feels like being misgendered to be held to the expectation of being a pure and quiet saint in my transition (ie societal expectations of women) but fuck that. testosterone made me loud and pissed off and I cranked it like 13 times a day and guess what that's fucking normal and it's still my choice and no one gets to take away my autonomy for it. yeah I got stinkier and hairier and more bold in my assertions, but that's not a default negative thing, and it's not something I should have to pretend doesn't happen for people to respect my right to transition. my autonomy has nothing to do with my purity. jesus

[venomousray]

Having a large list of characters I want to draw for 2025 but my brain demands I draw more homeless man ted fanart

[scarletfasinera]

I remember when bending my knees was not as difficult & painful as it is now, what happened

[somethingintheforest]

I think a lot of modern Sherlock Holmes adaptations (as in, Holmes in the modern era) miss out by having Holmes work so closely with the police. A lot of people forget that Holmes was one of the original ACAB bitchies in fiction; he did not like the police. Yes, he worked alongside them sometimes, but he often talked about them with open distain. Sometimes he even worked directly against them (think of The Norwood Builder).

Granted this was mostly because the police lacked a lot of the skills they have today, such as forensics, something that Holmes was an advocate for, and tended to draw conclusions that did not fit the obvious facts. This has obviously changed - the police have a lot more resources at their disposal nowadays, but they are not a perfect institution - far, far from it, and if he were alive today, Holmes would have a lot to say about that.

I wish modern adaptations stayed true to the fact that in canon, Sherlock Holmes was the man you went to if you could not go to the police. If you had, perhaps, a criminal record, were homeless, were POC, were queer, were neurodivergent, an abuse victim, reliant on illegal substances, or even wrongfully accused, Sherlock Holmes would be the man you went to, and he would help you to the best of his ability.

Also, Holmes had his own unique sense of justice. Think of The Abbey Grange - a man murders the abusive husband of an old lover, and the wife is complicit. Holmes and Watson ultimately decide to let them go - Lady Brackenstall was being horribly abused, she was trapped in a loveless marriage with a violent husband. Captain Crocker murdered Sir Eustace, freeing Lady Brackenstall and perhaps saving her life. If the police had arrested Crocker, it would be very likely he would be hanged for murder, regardless of the circumstances.

Then there is James Ryder in the Blue Carbuncle. He, after Holmes pesters him, freely admits to stealing the jewel, but Holmes does not hand him over to the police and instead lets him walk free. It was Ryder's first offence, one he was manipulated into committing, and Holmes and Watson see him as a, quite frankly, pathetic little man. Holmes realises that if he were to turn Ryder in, it would destroy his life - he would be 'a jailbird for life'. Ryder committed a crime, but he is no criminal. Prison would turn him into one.

Holmes takes justice into his own hands, and in a way, it turns him into an anti-hero. But I think this a part of what makes him such a loveable, iconic character.

Holmes has created a 'safe space' within 221B Baker Street. I think this would be extremely intresting to explore through a modern lens.

[colossrat]

Marvel is old. Like, not just bcs he is a entity of zillions of years old Billy was born and imprisoned for several years in a relatively conservative time full of prejudices.

When the time bubble pops and the League finds out about it, they expect Captain Marvel to be some kind of very close-minded, militaristic guy who will find the new generation full of sins (They don't know that in Fawcett there is so much magic, different species and queer entities that it is impossible to really be a socially backward place. They also don't know that the captain is a guy who doesn't like the police very much and his favorite sport is beating up nazis)

And well, finding out that the guy you thought would give you headaches in the modern age is actually super happy about it is kind of shocking Batman already had several slides ready to give the captain a lecture about respect

Marvel: Oh my gods, I found some pamphlets about these pride parades. Mr Batman, can I take this weekend off? I would love to go with my brother there!

Batman: Your... brother?

Marvel: Yes! Well, my whole family. We were part of some protests for the queer community in my time, but we were not part of any since the bubble. He liked the idea, but he's too shy to go alone, so me, my brothers and sisters wanna go with him to support him!

Batman: ... Of course, I will arrange for someone to take over your monitor duties

And next week there are several news about how the new-old heroes appeared on pride parade.

They help with things like free water and snacks distribution, first aid for minor injuries, they ensure that no homophobes try to start a fight, they don't let it turn into a mess and in general they also participate. They are practically all painted in colorful colors, their capes are personalized, some of them are dancing, others are further away taking care of the environment. Marvel does some magic tricks, makes rainbows appear in the sky and all that And they absolutely shower the green-suited superhero, aka they bro, with support and love. Vicki Vale and Cat Grant are dying to know why

And things like this just keep happening. Is there a protest in Asia about feminism? The Shazam family will be there, Mary and Darla protesting while their brothers stand around staring at anyone who wants to intervene. Community centers for homeless charities? captain will appear to call the public, ask for support and do some tricks to please the rich Donations to hospitals? They are all out there distributing news, asking anyone who can help, to help. A movement for teacher salary justice in Brazil? They are already there to help Or are movements taking place to preserve Brazilian flora? because of the criminal fires happening in the Amazon? They are there again, using their magic to heal what was hurt, put out what burned and protest, demanding more attention from the government. Do they want to take away land from indigenous tribes? They're going to have to go over the captain first. News broke about high levels of trash in the ocean. But Aquaman barely has time to deal with it himself, he sees his co-worker there with his family gathering pieces of trash and separating them for their own disposal, using spells to separate chemicals and water pollution. Is Gotham suffering from polluted air? The captain will gather a bunch of clouds and sprinkle them with some magic, and his raindrops will gradually purify the air for the people Is a police officer being cleared after attacking a teenager? no no no, marvel will be in front of the police station in the morning along with a bunch of civilians wanting justice Does a police car, or any car in general, have a sticker that supports some kind of tyrannical movement? apology for the Nazis? to an oppressive government? a prejudiced joke? Oh man, you better be ready for dawn with every part of this car missing, probably being sold illegally and having the proceeds sent to charity The fact that the captain calls the police bastard pigs was a shock, some got defensive and such, others thought it was great. It was a slight headache for the Justice League when it came to the media, but it's not like the government liked them before The movements in Brazil are there because im brazilian, raised by a teacher, there was no way to avoid it. Billy come to brasil <3

[mide404]

One day, we were growing and maturing, dreaming and aspiring. We lived moments of joy and endured pain. We chased our desires and ventured into the fields of work. But now… our dreams have stopped, our aspirations have faded. Our world, once vast and open, has shrunk to a small, narrow space. From boundless skies to an unknown realm… This is what happened to my family after the devastating war uprooted their dreams, buried their ambitions, and obliterated their memories.

Today, my family endures the harsh experience of displacement, living in a tent for months on end. My younger sister describes the struggles of life in the tent: how it burns like an oven under the sun, suffocating and airless, with no means of cooling. The tent feels like a greenhouse during the day, leaving its residents to suffer from the extreme heat of summer without protection, and offering no shelter from the bitter cold of winter.

She mentions that our family’s tent is set up on a small plot of farmland, forcing us to live amid reptiles, rodents, insects, and venomous snakes, with no basic standards of cleanliness. She adds that life in the tent is especially harsh for women. It’s a place where even in the sweltering heat, they must stay fully dressed in outdoor clothes, with no freedom of movement. Everything happens inside the tent: lighting fires, cooking food, washing dishes, storing large containers of drinking water, and keeping water for bathing and daily cleaning. In essence, the tent means the loss of privacy—speaking in whispers inside your tent, only to hear a response from your neighbor in the next one.

She goes on to say, “Every time I moved with my family, I lost a thread of the privacy I hold dear as a woman. Displacement and homelessness became defining features of my life.”

I am Mahmoud Saleh, a young man appealing to you to look upon my torn and displaced family with mercy. Please grant them the chance to rebuild their lives in peace. I stand before your compassionate hearts, full of hope that you can help what remains of my family to secure a better life and to live in safety and security.

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

jason forever resenting Tim because Tim's rich ass chose to drop out of high school, meanwhile Jason grew up knowing he was likely to be one of the statistics of 'Kids growing up in poverty/unstable homes don't tend to graduate' (further cemented by his time being homeless in ELEMENTARY school with both parents dead or imprisoned) until he gets taken in by Bruce and suddenly...

maybe not.

Maybe he will get to graduate.

And... man, he never thought he'd get anywhere near college but it's becoming a reality, something he could have. And he doesn't take a second of it for granted.

then he's brutally murdered. In his Freshman (sophomore?) year.

and then, his adopted brother, whom he already has a host of issues with, who comes from money, fucking drops out of high school.

[robertreich]

How We Take Back the Supreme Court

Where do you see yourself in 2060? What about your kids or grandkids? Will Donald Trump be affecting your life even then?

Here’s why he might be.

This November, the future of the Supreme Court is on the ballot.

Trump appointed three justices in his first term — more than any president since Ronald Reagan. And thanks to them, Trump was able to get rid of Roe v. Wade, affirmative action, and gun safety laws — even after he left office.

If Trump is reelected, 76-year-old Justice Clarence Thomas and 74-year-old Justice Samuel Alito could retire, giving Trump a chance to appoint a fourth and fifth justice. That’s five out of nine justices. Trump would be the first president in more than a half century to appoint a majority of the Supreme Court.

And not just a "conservative" majority — but a MAGA majority that would work in lockstep with an authoritarian president.

Several other justices are also getting up there. Chief Justice John Roberts will turn 70 in 2025, and Justice Sonia Sotomayor will be 71. So it’s possible that Trump could even appoint a sixth (or even a seventh) justice.

If Trump sticks with appointing justices in their 40s, as he did with Neil Gorsuch and Amy Coney Barrett, his justices could dominate the court past the year 2060 — or longer if he appoints even younger justices.

In the court’s latest term, the extremists now dominating the bench made it harder to combat racial gerrymandering. They limited the power of federal agencies to implement health, safety, and environmental regulations. They ruled that homeless people can be punished for being homeless. They gave the greenlight for state and local politicians to accept bribes for past actions. And I didn’t even mention how the court granted presidents the power of kings by giving them broad immunity from prosecution.

All of this because one man, Donald Trump, was elected in 2016. If he’s reelected in 2024, just imagine the damage a MAGA supermajority Supreme Court could unleash.

Your remaining reproductive freedoms, marriage equality, gun reform, climate change policy, and what’s left of the Voting Rights Act…

Wherever you imagine yourself and your family forty years from now, you will still be feeling the effects of this year’s election.

[quitesins]

Pro Hero!Bakugou x Criminal!Reader

Masterlist | Pt.2

Tags: Sfw, Drabble?, Pro Hero!Bakugou, Criminal!Reader, Female!reader, Reader is implied to be younger and homeless, dialogue heavy, ooc?

This happens a right after the events of vol 42/the epilogue, this is sort of a snapshot of an already established dynamic in my head

“You look miserable.”

He seems surprised to see you. Which is weird. Dynamight has always been so hyper aware of his surroundings, especially when you, half-criminal, half-comrade, show up.

“Piss off.” Dynamight grunts, locking the doors to his car and turning away from you. His expression is as frustrated as ever, but there’s something solemn underneath.

“You get rejected?” It’s just a joke, but he stiffens like you’ve hit the mark. “Holy shit, you did?” You can’t let him go, not with this in your pocket now.

He pushes past, albeit gentler than the times you’ve felt him body check you before. He grumbles something, uncharacteristically quiet.

“What?” He’s at his door now, and though you’ve already trespassed far into his front garden, it feels a bit invasive to peer into his home. “I just never expected you to be interested in that stuff.”

Dynamight’s keys jingle in the silence where he doesn’t answer, his door opens and as always you look away. He stands too still for a second too long, then sighs, turning to invite you in.

You tilt your head, eyeing him warily. He doesn’t let you ruminate or even ask, his hand on yours, tugging you in himself.

You’ve only ever been in the doorway, so following him past the foyer, taking your shoes off like you’re about to get comfortable, feels strange and unnerving.

Dynamight slumps onto his couch, head tilted back and eyes scrunched closed. You stand there awkwardly, suddenly aware of how different his life is to yours.

His house is nice. Decorated like a magazine, tidier than you’d expect from a bachelor. His tv looks expensive and even the open kitchen you can see in your peripheral, is stocked top to bottom in gadgets you know cost more than anything you own.

“Stop gawking.” Dynamight’s voice, for the first time, startles you. “‘M not offering you tea.”

“I wasn’t— shut up!” You like bothering him, but this time you become defensive. “Why am I here?”

“Yeah?” Dynamight snorts, an eye winking open to look you over. “Why are you?”

It must be something psychological, to have you in his space for once. You like to spook him when he’s on missions, at stores you could only steal from, and even at the cafe by his agency he likes to frequent. But this is his home. His living room. This isn’t the no man’s land of public space. Where it’s easy for you to dominate, since he’s got a reputation (barely) and all sorts of hero rules to follow.

You straighten your back, pulling a usb out your pocket and throwing it at him, without force but in the direction of his head. “You wanted intel.”

“And you couldn’t have waited till the morning?” He scoffs, catching the thing before it hits his face. “Gone to the agency?”

“Unless you grant me full immunity.” You shrug, knowing he won’t.

“Fat chance.” Dynamight inspects the usb. “This not gonna brick up my entire computer?”

“I don’t know.” He looks at you like you’re stupid. “I just took it.”

Dynamight frowns, then pulls out a case from under his coffee table. You’re still standing there uncomfortably, so he rolls his eyes and prompts you to get close. You don’t like following his order, and you can tell he isn’t used to it either. Normally you’re the one openly pushing past his personal space, listening to nothing he says. You lean on the back of his sofa, peering over his shoulder.

The case opens to a laptop, one that uses his fingerprint to unlock. You watch curiously as he taps away at something you don’t understand, before pushing the usb in and lighting up the screen in new colours.

Dynamight becomes quiet, focussed as he sifts through files and documents you still don’t get. You had wanted to continue on your prodding and ask why he looked like such a misery tonight, but his intensity makes it difficult to interrupt.

“Fucking hell.” Dynamight sounds almost in awe. “Where the hell did you get this.”

“I just took it.” You’re petulant. “I said.”

“[Name].” The hero’s body turns, and he stares with new authority. “Don’t piss me off.”

You feel small. Even with you standing over him, in his casual wear, a black top and some joggers, you’re reminded he’s a hero. One that lets you get away with a lot, but still a man of power you could never fight.

“Who rejected you?” You’re brattish. “You didn’t say.”

The non sequitur pisses him off, but he doesn’t want to have you running. “It wasn’t— Deku. I asked him to join my agency.”

That somehow makes you feel better. And equal. Like you’ve both just had terrible days.

“I saw him once. A friend, from when I was little, goes to UA.” You almost distract Dynamight with your reminiscing, but he catches it, frowning and prompting you to answer his original question.

“That guy you were tailing.” You remember a few months ago, recognising Dynamight in stealth gear, in a place where you hadn’t expected him to be. “The one with the red hair.” The descriptor makes something click in Dynamight’s head. His eyes go wide and wider with your next words. “He left a window open.” You shrug. “I snuck in.”

“Alone?” Dynamight wipes his head with his hands, frustrated. You think you’ve done something wrong. “Do you have any idea how—”

“I can take it back!” Interrupting him, you reach out to snatch the usb. You feel scolded and it stings.

He grabs your wrist before you can, you look at him with such sourness and he sighs. “Just… don’t do it again. Leave the hero work to me.”

You’re still pouting, embarrassed.

“You did good. Okay?” His hands give yours a squeeze. “You did really fucking good.” A part of you wants that, his approval, but you pull away anyways.

“I have to go.” You’re already walking backwards to his corridor. He follows you though he knows can’t keep you any longer, he’s never been able to pin you down.

You shove your shoes on haphazardly, not caring about creasing or scuffing. He has to unlock the door for you, but before he does he pulls his wallet out.

“How much?” There’s a few large notes in his hand. It’s jarring that he can walk around with so much cash in his pockets.

“Wait.” You stop him with your hands, shaking your head. “Can’t— not tonight— can’t have that much on me.”

Dynamight gives you a look, there’s pity in his eyes. He hesitates letting you go, shoving a 2000 yen note into your hands. “At least.”

The winter air hits you both when the door finally opens. It’s the kind that makes your muscles ache. You step out quickly, already making your way to the fence you hopped over to bother him in the first place.

Before you can lift yourself up, Bakugou calls out, voice uncomfortably gentle. “You got a place to sleep?”

“…No.”

Cut out of a second, there’s a moment where you think he’s wants to say something. But he doesn’t. Instead he just nods, letting you jump over his gate and run off, back into the night.

Because in my head there’s an already established dynamic, I can’t tell if this whole thing only makes sense to me since I don’t need it to be expressed in the details… I did try to add contextualising details but idkkkk eughhhh

[echantedtoon]

Unforseen Part 1

Your entire town was haunted, that's why barely anyone lived in the district and those whom did rarely left their homes unless it was absolutely necessary. You never believed in spirits until you started encountering them outside your home and one in particular kept following you around. 

(Homicipher au where the Ghost Apartment residents are spirits haunting a town and Y/n isn't a killer. Will include stuff not cannon to the game. Including none cannon guesses to some of the characters backstories.

Warnings for blood, death mentioned, and reader cutting her hand on a rock by accident.)

Have you ever heard of the phrase 'if its too good to be true then it probably isn't'?

That phrase exists because often when something does sound too good to be true it almost always is the case. However sometimes we had to learn that important life lesson the hard way, and you were one of those people who learnt first had you shouldn't take everything at face value while also never taking anything for granted. 

Even now as you attempted to ignore the figure peeping over the other side of your desk, dark hair cascading from a pale grey head without any eyes to be seen. The figure being only barely lit up by the light of your laptop as you attempted to do some online courses and not pay attention to the curious figure that blended into the shadows perfectly. 

Key word being tried because of the fact you couldn't ignore him when a hand curious reached out across the desk and snatched away your mouse quickly vanishing back into the darkness before your hand could stop him. Instead your hand smacked down onto the hardwood with a thud.

"Hey!" F/c orbs glared harshly into the darkness beyond the lit screen. "Give that back!"

"HEHEHEHE!!" A high pitched laughter was your only playful response from the blackness.

A sigh escaped your lips. It wasn't always like this. It had only started when you had moved to this quiet town in the middle of nowhere. You needed a place to stay after rent had gotten too high and your ex roommates decided to bail on you without a warning. So facing homelessness and struggling with money, you did what anyone in your shoes did. Look online for the cheapest place you could find. Your desperate search for any cheap apartments, anyone who was renting a room, ANYTHING! That's when you came across what seemed to be a miracle.

A small house in a town you never heard of just a few miles away from where you currently worked. It was a cheap house. For what you were renting the apartment for two years you could pay and completely own your own house fully. Something like that was like a god send, but you were HIGHLY SUSPICIOUS. This had to be a trick. A scam. There's no way that anyone would sell a house this cheap without it being a scam of some kind. There just HAD to be a catch. But you were very desperate, and you decided to contact the number listed for the real estate agent. What the heck? There was no harm in talking to the guy and checking out the place. At worst it'd just be another dead end. 

The man seemed very professional over the phone and answered all your questions politely just like the realtor that you rented your old apartment from. So really there wasn't any red flags then. You took that as a go ahead to set a date for a walkthrough of the house and see if you really wanted to go through with the purchase however... Something still didn't seem quite right. You looked up the realtor's name and found him to be a legit business man in that profession so it wasn't likely it was a scam but the off feeling didn't go away so you opted to bring along your dad on the day in question to go see the house.

"Gosh. The place sure is in the middle of nowhere isn't it?"

That was your dad's first comment about the area you were in. Following the location given to you leading you to a whole town in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by thick woods and old roads. Perhaps that was the second red flag seeing an entire town so empty. So.. abandoned like this. It doesn't make much sense. Maybe this was a scam trying to sell old houses in the middle of nowhere. You felt better having brought along your father but still something felt off. Eventually you found the house, and the realtor man waiting for you on the porch in front of said house. Everything seemed normal. He greeted you both, shook your hands, and after a few icebreaker sentences asked if you'd like to look at the inside of the house.

From the outside it looked completely normal. Maybe a bit run down and old and the lawn needed some mowing, but nothing that screamed red flags. The guy was as normal, polite, and professional as he had been on the phone as he walked both yourself and your dad throughout the house and spoke about when it was built, how long the last owners had lived there, and the few repairs made to it. Both of you went through the usual testing the lights, and turning on the kitchen sink to check the running water. Everything seemed to be working. By the cheap price you were expecting to find a real fixer upper here. 

"Doesn't anyone else live in this town?," you eventually asked the man curiosity finally getting the better of you.

"Oh yes. Mostly older folks and their carers but there's two of three families too and some caretakers for the houses until they can be sold," he confirmed.

"Then why does it look like the entire town is empty."

It was finally then that the realtor looked worried about something. "Well a lot of people prefer to live closer to the nearest town with active businesses, but I will be honest. Most people pass over here because of the rumors surrounding the area."

"Rumors?"

"Yes. I'm afraid that many people seem to believe that the town and surrounding woods are haunted. I don't believe that of course but superstition can scare away a lot of people."

Ah. So that was the entire reason why the house was dirty cheap. No one in their right mind would want to buy a haunted house in the middle of no where miles from the nearest town with any stores. That'd be pretty inconvenient for a lot of people but desperation and fear of homelessness was a powerful factor in your decision to make the purchase, signing on the papers and moving everything you owned with your parents' help into your new house. And everything seemed to be perfectly fine the first few weeks. 

They mostly consisted of you cleaning out your house and fixing up the lawn to get things in order. Moving your furniture around for for own needs. Fixing up an Internet connection for online classes. Things such as that. It really wasn't very exciting but nothing bothered you.

But something still felt off about the silence.

It wasn't the peaceful nature silence that you would experience on nature hikes or drives through the country, it was more of the creepy silence you'd seen in way too many horror movies when all the animals went silent when the monster was getting closer and closer. Even though you saw nothing wrong with anything. The unusual silence was creepy as was the unusual emptiness of the town but you concluded it was still better than being homeless. For a roof over your head with working water and electricity, you'd put up with the silence for now. Besides you could always move again once you graduated college and saved up enough money to move again.

However you did encounter one of the locals at last. The only working store just outside of town, mostly used as a pitstop by others just driving through but sometimes you'd stop for snacks before making the hours long run to the next town over for groceries. He was an odd older man whom looked the same age as your grandfather. He eyed you from the window before you made your way inside and began digging in your pockets for your credit card to pay for gas. 

"Just gas?" He grunted out.

You nodded pulling out the card. "Yep. Just gas."

"Good. It's not a good idea to stay in this area after dark." He just watched you swipe your card. "Take my advice and don't stop until you reach the next town over."

"Oh. I'm not passing through, I live here," you clarified making him raise a brow, "I just moved in a few weeks ago."

He grunted. "Then they decided to not make themselves known to you yet. Or they haven't noticed that fresh prey came right in."

You looked at him blinking. "Excuse me?"

"The spirits of course!", he clarified with narrowed eyes, leaning forward to make you lean back. "They roam these parts you know."

"Uh .So I heard."

"You don't believe me." He scoffed rolling his eyes. "The non-believers are always the first ones to go first. The fact you hadn't seen them yet means you're either lucky or they're planning on doing something big for you."

"Uh..." You weren't sure what to say to that but leaned back when he leaned over the register beckoning you to come forward.

"Let me give you some advice for how to survive around here. There's certain rules to follow if you want to avoid trouble. Firstly, never go out after dark. That's when they're most active but they can still come out during the day as well so keep your eyes open at all times too. However if you must go out at night then make it brief and always keep at least one light on. They absolutely love the dark."

You took a step back to avoid the way he was almost in your face however that didn't stop him from holding up his hand with two fingers.

"Don't look them directly in the eyes and ignore them all times if you absolutely can. If you initiate contact then they'll take that as an invitation to continue contact." A third finger. "There's a lot of them around here but most of them are harmless and just long lost spirits still roaming around such as that poor Bride of the man who was in the bad fires years ago. However there's quite a few of them that's quite dangerous."

"Danger..ous?"

He slowly nodded. "Yep! The first ones that come to mind is that one that looks crazy and carries around the giant machete. Cross him the wrong way and you might join the spirits but he usually wonders the woods and doesn't come into town too often so I wouldn't worry too much about him. It's Scartella that I'm more worried about."

"Scarletella??" You were very confused as he nodded. "Who's he?"

"He gets his name from the bright red clothes and hair he sports, and the rather unusual red umbrella he always seems to carry around. He only shows up when it rains but by fair he's the most deadly. If he approaches you and ask for your name do not under any circumstances answer him! He'll steal your soul away!"

"Uh...right." This guy was crazy and watched way too many horror movies! Slowly you tucked your card back into your pocket since it was paid. "I'm going to go now-"

"Then there's the fellow who just likes to creep in gaps and crevices and ask for organs. He's completely harmless after all as long as you say no. He'll pout but he'll leave you be. Then there's the fellow who's always helping that disembodied head. He's mostly harmless but has taken some corpses for his morbid research. Just don't try harming the head and he'll be ok with you-"

"I best be going!", you proclaimed loudly before turning on your heel and walking towards the door. "Thanks for the gas but I REALLY better get going." And get away from this crazy guy.

"Don't say that I didn't warn you!", you heard him call after you as the bell chimed above the door.

You didn't look back. Just got into your car and drove all the way home feeling your hair stand on end from the creepy encounter. That was definitely spooky but you chose to ignore it in favor of getting home. Out of curiosity you decided to look up the area on Guggle just to see what would pop up and was surprised to find so many urban legends surrounding the area. There was TONS of them. From the tragic tale of a bride dying on her wedding day long ago to someone being executed by having their head chopped off to even sightings of a strange person in a wheelchair said to have been a patient whom died in a hospital that once stood here. 

However you didn't find any legitimate records anywhere to back up these legends. The only confirmed death registered for this area was a camper who got lost in the woods and was later found deceased from a tree having fallen and crushing him and that was two years ago. There wasn't any urban legends of a deceased camper around to add to the mix. After scrolling through the pages and pages of legends you called it quits convinced they were nothing but what they were.

Just urban legends without any truth to back them up.

That all would change one fateful night. You had driven hours to the nearby town to shop and visit family, so you got home late. Everything was fine. The sun had just set as you stepped out of your car bag of groceries in one hand and house keys in the other as you approached the front door. Nothing but silence was all the streets offered you as you fiddled with the lock and letting the door creak open a bit as you went to go put the key back into your pocket-

"Give finger?"

You snapped up at the sudden voice only to find a face in the gap of the door staring at you-

You screamed bloody murder. You screech echoing out through the streets and the bag falling from your hands. Bread and apples went thudding along the porch as you turned to run back to your car in a panic. The sounds of a car door slamming behind you echoed down the streets as you fumbled with the keys to your car. The rippling sounds of a revving engine and screeching tires was the only things left behind in the darkness. You didn't stop out of fear until you got to the little gas station where you fumbled with shaking hands to call the police.

"Hello? Police! I need help! Someone broke into my house!"

I took hours for a squad car to get to where you were at which point you gave a statement before leading them back to your house. The door was still slightly sharp and your groceries were still scattered about the porch where they were dropped. You stayed right across the street watching with shaking hands as they entered your home and lights turned on as you saw their figures watching through your home. After a while they came back out without anyone in cuffs. 

"There's no signs of anyone being inside the home, and no forcibly entry."

"But there WAS something there! I saw him in the doorway!!"

No matter what you said the police had nothing else and left leaving you standing there in the streets in front of your house. You couldn't get yourself to go inside opting to sleep in your locked car that night before going on the next morning with a tire iron from the trunk in search of the guy you saw checking every closet, under your bed, and even in the kitchen cabinets but found no one. It was both relieving and weirded you out. 

You know you saw someone last night! He was right there! Was it just a hallucination? You had been pretty swamped with work and homework so maybe all the lack of sleep combined with hearing those ghost stories all the time we're starting to get to you. Yeah. That must've been it.

You would've just been satisfied to go on with pretending to have never seen him before if it wasn't the last time you had a paranormal encounter with a spirit. The second encounter you had was with a weird ghost that looked like a bloodied nurse. It was when you were outside really early one morning. You had gotten some flower seeds and wanted to make your house look less creepy by planting some flowers near it, however first you had to clear away some rocks where you wanted to plant them. It'd take a while to make a flower bed so you wanted to get started early. The sun was barely starting to come up when you started moving some of the rocks when you grabbed one and a moment later you were dropping it in pain.

"Ow!" Instinctively balling your hand into a fist and clutching it to your chest, you hissed in pain. Slowly you unclenched your hand to take a look at the cut upon your palm. "You gotta be kidding me. Well that's just great." A sizable cut was across your palm from the jagged edges of a rock and even in the dim light you could tell it was bleeding. "Ow, own, own. That hurts."

"Your hand?" 

You jumped at the feminine sounding voice next to you and when you turned...You froze. 

What you were met with was a woman covered in blood.

Or you assumed it had been a woman by the sound of the voice and the fact she wore a nurse's gown along with a hair net and medical mask. However you only froze meeting the black void like orbs that was in the place of eyes and the fact her entire outfit was covered in copper colored stains.

"Your hand?" She repeated holding up her own hands "injured? Sick?"

You couldn't say anything. Too frozen to speak or do anything as she produced a roll of bandages from no where and a few seconds later your entire hand was wrapped up. 

"Heal! Fix!", she exclaimed loudly satisfied with the care she gave before turning to walk away.

She walked across the lawn slowly disappearing into thin air and vanishing as if she had never existed as the sun slowly rose higher and higher. You stayed standing there frozen until the warmth of the sunlight made you flinch and finally move around.  You couldn't write it off as a freak hallucination from stress and lack of sleep this time. Perhaps if there was no proof of her ever being there you could've done that but there was NO way you could logically explain why your entire hand was wrapped up in old gauze. But BOY you tried! Tried to convince your terrified self that you were imagining things and you had wrapped up your own hand without remembering...

Yeah. That didn't work.

You couldn't step out of your house for a good while too afraid of what else you might witness and your lights were kept on nearly every night but that didn't stop the random hauntings you'd witness. One day you went out during the day a pair of muddy footsteps just walked down the sidewalk appeared on the ground next to you. You jumped back and watched in disbelief as they zoomed down the sidewalk and disappeared around the corner leaving behind muddy footsteps in plain daylight for anyone to see.

Another time you were just in the kitchen and you peered out of the window to look out only to scream and scramble back as a sheep's head popped up from under the windowsill. The child like entity giggled at their mischief before running away completely disappearing. Sometimes you didn't hear them at all but caught a glimpse of something peeking out at you from time to time from a crack in the doorway or an open drawer and one time under your bed. It might've been the same entity you saw the first time these things started and you started the habit of keeping everything closed. Sometimes you saw legitimate ghosts like out of the movies floating about randomly and one ghost stereotypically under a sheet dragging along the ground down the road.

It all was eventually too much and you decided now would be the perfect time to go stay with your parents for a long, long while. Packing just a suitcase, you got in your car and just drove out of town. Stopping only by the old gas station just outside of town to get gas for the long drive and maybe some snacks. The old man from before of course was there and the first thing he did seeing your frazzled frame was to throw his head back and howl in laughter!

"So I see they finally decided to come out to you, Young Lady! Tell me do you believe in the supernatural now?," he asked between laughs.

You only managed a deadpanned tired look. "Leave me alone. I just want some gas."

"Who was it? Mr. Gap?," he asked ignoring your words genuinely interested. "He's always usually the first one to show up and he's the most frequent fellow."

"Mr...What?"

"Mr. Gap," he repeated, "That's what locals around here call him because of the fact he appears whenever there's gaps between things. Almost every spook here has a nickname like it since no one knows their true names. Which ones did you see?" He sat back arms crossed amused eminencly. "I'll probably be able to tell you their names."

You weren't sure how to feel, what to think, or what to say...but you couldn't tell someone that you were seeing ghosts. Your family and everyone else would think you're crazy! Maybe you were but you were sane enough to know that you weren't seeing things and at least this man knew who you were talking about and believed in them..So you told him the few entities you've been seeing.

"That's Mr. Gap alright." He nodded along with your story. "Oh. So you met Ms. Nurse. She's helpful when she wants to be." He laughed again. "Hooded Child is always playing tricks on people." And then the ghosts- "Mr. Cloth is the only ghost I know of that wears a sheet over him."

"What do I do to make them stop?"

"Stop? This whole place was theirs way before you and I came along young lady! If anything you're trespassing on their home. They won't stop living how they've always lived, that's like telling a bird to stop chirping or a flower to not smell nice. They're not going to do it just because you find it inconvenient. I'm sure if you were a ghost you'd certainly be annoyed by people acting that way towards you."

"I wouldn't be haunting people and scaring the living daylights out of them!" You shook your head. "Can I just buy gas please?" 

He shrugged. "Sure. Just don't say that I didn't tell you so."

You bought the gas and filled up your car quickly and got back in. Only when you tried to turn it on...Nothing happened. You kept turning the key but nothing kept happening. Until you defeated got out of your car and slunk back into the station to the old man's surprise.

"Back already?"

"There's something wrong with my engine. C-Can you help me?"

"Sure! I've worked on cars before." He got up and you both went out to take a look under the hood. You watched as he hummed and fiddled around with a few things before looking at you. "How old is this car?"

You shrugged. "I-I don't know. It's preowned." You couldn't afford a new car on your college kid budget.

"Well that might be your problem." He closed the hood with a loud THUD. "The battery's dead."

You stared at him gobsmacked. "WHAT?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET BACK?...Can you drive me?"

He shook his head. "I live in the connecting house and I own no car. Never needed one. The nearest mechanic is in the town over and they wouldn't be here until morning. You can either sleep in your car for the night or your welcome to sleep inside but you'd have to sleep on the floor."

"No thank you." No WAY you were staying with a stranger or sleeping in your car in the middle of nowhere. Looking up you noticed that the sign was only barely in the middle of the sky, that meant it was just almost noon. "If I start back now, I can probably make it back home before dark."

"You sure?"

You nodded. "Positive." You stepped back to walk back down the road where you came from. "I'll be fine. They don't show up a lot during the day anyways."

The older man hummed. "Alright but you be careful on your way back. Sometimes the woods can be more dangerous than the town."

***********

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Top Six Arcane Characters ranked in reverse-order of how much silly fucking nonsense they have to put up with throughout the runtime of the show

6. Cassandra Kiramman (daughter became a cop [I'm so sorry girl], daughter randomly goes missing for several days and breaks into her own house shot in the leg with a fucking homeless lesbian, gets killed by Zaun literally four seconds after being convinced to grant them sovereignty, and if there is an afterlife she had to watch her daughter crash out spectacularly using her very own initiative to gas the poor. Embarrassing.)

5. Ekko (every single Topsider he meets is next-level stupid and he has to hold their hand like a baby even when they are a literal genius. Had to watch Cait say "The enforcers aren't oppressing you guys that's not true :( !!" with a straight face, had to watch Jayce say "Oh yeah we put the hexgate here so that if it blew up it would only release dangerous arcane-gamma rays upon YOUR people so nobody who actually matters would die" with a straight face, had to find out the founder of the city that oppressed him his entire life was literally just a stupid old man with a banjo, Jesus fucking Christ. He is low on this list because of the amount of silly nonsense he subjected other people to, especially in the AU. Also he threw a time-machine bomb at God which wasn't so much something that happened to him but felt worth mentioning)

4. Jayce Talis (literally on a constant mission to keep his very fragile partner from killing himself through sheer scientific negligence and is consistently thwarted by either Viktor's impulsivity, the narrative, or him-fucking-self. Had to go to the shadow realm while Heimer and Ekko partied in Utopia playing the banjo and dancing to silly little songs and the first person he has the absolute misfortune to see when he gets back is fucking Salo I would kill myself)

3. Mel Medarda (practically runs a counsel full of idiots twice her age at like 25, himbo situationship's twink almost dies every time they try to fuck, has to deal with her mother ravaging twinks with her eyes right in front of Mel's salad, got kidnapped by witches for literally no reason)

2. Silco (Girldad who somehow, despite being one of the least mentally hinged people in the undercity, has an even less hinged daughter who so regularly blows things up and kills people that he scolds her about it as though she'd just snuck out past curfew. Has to work with a gaggle of dumbasses to produce and distribute his sterocainoin I mean Shimmer who regularly plot to kill him but are legitimately too stupid and useless to pull it off, his factory got randomly busted up and a bunch of his employees killed by an angry twenty-something with pink hair and also The Guy From The Fucking Posters [imagine Niel DeGrasse Tyson and a twenty-two year old homeless lesbian blow up your job like tell me you wouldn't have a stroke] and had to deal with a TREMENDOUS amount of nonsense in the AU where Ekko out of nowhere reminds him of his Most Traumatic Memory Ever and also the founder of Piltover blows up and his teenage stepkid is the only one who saw it happen.)

1. Sevika (Literally cannot ever catch a break for one second. Just wanted to help Zaun be free from Piltover and gets absolutely bodied by one or the other of Felicia and Connol's cursed fucking daughters every other episode in season 1, loses a combined total of like four??? arms, is forced to clean up the typically VERY bloody messes of her boss's unhinged daughter because he's such a pookie-wookie that he refuses to discipline her in any way, becomes the unwilling parent of two (2) mentally ill orphans, is subjected to Jinx's constant jokes at the expense of her missing arm (which Jinx is responsible for, by the way) gets given a political position as some form of shitty reparation when she is NOT a politician she is the guy who backs up the revolutionaries like miss girl just wanted to gamble punch people and fuck whores can you let her live her life??? Is one of the few people to survive and probably hates every minute of it)

[cntloup]

Medieval AU implied prostitution, homelessness, some foul language, punching and throwing around poor reader :(

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

You feel everything start to fade away. The sounds are muffled and your vision is blurry. Though you can still make out some words, “Whore!”... “Wench!” and such.  

You feel light-headed and dizzy as you’re thrown around and countless flying punches land onto your face and body.  

You can sense the metallic taste in your mouth become more and more unbearable and start to get nauseous from all of it, the severity of the pain and swirling around too much. 

Until you begin to feel numb. There's no pain anymore. And you can sense yourself slowly drifting into unconsciousness. 

But suddenly, everything stops. There's no punch or being thrown around anymore.

You don’t notice much as you lay still on the ground, but you can see the large figure hovering above you through the blur.

And that’s the only thing you see before you fall unconscious. 

----- 

You wake up surrounded by warmth, something you haven’t felt in a long time and a delicious smell you can’t exactly put your finger on. 

You slowly blink the drowsiness away and are met by an unfamiliar room. 

You push back the several blankets that are stacked on top of you and shuffle out of bed. 

You start to walk towards the smell, groggily and confused by your surroundings through the fog in your brain, from sleep or the numerous punches you took to your head, you don’t exactly know. 

You walk into the kitchen to meet someone with his back to you, facing the pot above the fireplace. That must be the source of the delightful aroma. 

Bits and pieces of scattered images start to come back through your memory and you wince from the sudden sharp pain in your head. 

“You should rest. Go back to bed. I'll bring you some stew.” he says in a deep voice without turning to face you. 

And you remember. The large figure you saw yesterday... was it yesterday? You must have lost track of time. 

He must’ve saved you from the crowd of savages who claim themselves men of God but are surely the embodiment of the devil. 

“Thank you.” you say, your voice weak from the hoarseness of your throat. And that’s the only thing you say since you still feel weak, also you can sense that he is not much of a talker and you wouldn’t want to be a nuisance. 

“No need to thank me, love.” he responds, still in the same deep voice but softer tone. 

‘Love?’ you ask yourself, surprised of such sentiments from such a man. But you can’t deny that it does indeed make you feel a little bit fuzzy. 

It's been a long long time since any man has shown you any kind of affection, even the smallest bit, let alone save you from some heartless monsters and take you in his home, give you shelter and food. 

They always only care for their own pleasure. They even go as far as to wreck their own home, their family, only to get just a little bit of taste of that forbidden fruit. And you offer them just that.

But you are most grateful to this kind man. Whoever he is. And you won’t take it for granted.

ik i already have so many wips but i'm gonna start a series for this one since i'm obsessed with medieval au rn :')

[wholoveseggs]

Stains {Part Two}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Two

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} A bouquet of flowers, a generous donation, and a man who turns everything into a game you are destined to lose...

♡♡ ♡♡

2.4k words - Warnings: slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, eventual smut (duh), manipulative dynamics, a smug Elijah playing mind games, workplace tension, reader is an anti-capitalist who absolutely hates him && Elijah secretly loving every second of it...

{Part One}{Part Three}{Part Four}

@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka

The next day when you arrived at work, you were surprised to find a large bouquet of flowers on your desk. A card was attached, and you picked it up, opening it and reading the elegant handwriting.

‘Until next time, darling.’

You shook your head, setting the card aside and glancing at the flowers. They were beautiful, but you couldn't help but feel unsettled by them. This was just a game to him, and you weren't sure what his end goal was.

"Who are those from?" one of your coworkers asked, looking over your shoulder.

"Um, they're from a friend," you said, not wanting to explain the entire situation.

"A friend?" she asked, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Just a friend," you said, giving her a warning look.

"Okay, fine, whatever," she said, her tone playful. "But he must really like you."

"It's not like that," you insisted, but the words felt hollow.

"Mhm, sure," she said, clearly not convinced.

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the flowers. You could already hear the rumors that would start circulating, and you didn't like the idea of having to correct them.

Shaking your head, you tried to focus on your work, but your mind kept wandering. What did he want? Why was he so intent on tormenting you?

Your boss came out of her office, a huge smile on her face. "Hi, can I have everyone gather around for a quick meeting?"

You made brief eye contact with your coworker and she rolled her eyes. Everyone was used to these meetings being nothing more than a thinly veiled excuse for your boss to brag about herself.

"We have some wonderful news. A new donor has come in," she announced, her voice dripping with enthusiasm. "He has graciously offered to provide a very large grant, enough for us to fund the expansion of our building and also to provide additional resources for the homeless."

A few people clapped politely, and she continued, clearly enjoying the attention.

"He has asked that our organization help plan a charity gala, with his generous pledge providing the funding. We will have a team of planners working on this, and the rest of you can provide input when needed," she explained, her gaze sweeping the room. "We will need someone to head up this project, and I would like that person to be (Y/N)."

You nodded, already taking notes on what would need to be done. You had done a few events like this before, but you hoped this donor could provide much needed funds.

"Thank you everyone for your hard work, we're going to make a real difference," your boss said, beaming.

Everyone returned to their desks, and you immediately got to work, creating a spreadsheet of tasks and due dates. As you worked, you could see your boss coming up to your desk, a pleased expression on her face.

"You can have the conference room to work, the donor Mr. Mikaelson wishes to be involved in the planning and will meet with you tomorrow," she informed you.

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. "Mr. Mikaelson? As in Elijah Mikaelson?"

"Yes, he's… a bit peculiar and wants to make sure the event is perfect," she said, not picking up on your anxiety.

"Right," you said, nodding, your mind going a million miles a minute. "What's the budget?"

"Oh, it's actually a bit odd, he chose a very specific number," she leaned in and whispered, looking around to make sure no one could overhear. "Twenty thousand three hundred and twenty five dollars,"

You felt sick. The same amount as the suit. He was toying with you, this some sort of weird power move. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

"Is everything alright?" your boss asked, her brow furrowed.

"I'm fine, just...trying to wrap my head around the numbers," you said, forcing a smile.

"Alright, well, let me know if you need anything," she said, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder before walking off.

You stared down at the spreadsheet, your hands shaking. What was he playing at? This was clearly a message, but what was the point? To humiliate you? To force you into some sort of twisted arrangement? You couldn't believe he was messing with your job, your livelihood… over a stupid coffee stain.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You couldn't afford to lose your cool, especially now that you knew what Elijah was capable of.

"You okay?" a coworker asked, looking over at you with concern.

"Great," you said, your voice tight. "Just working on this new project."

"It's nice to have a big donor, we've needed some help for a while," she said, giving you a friendly smile.

"Yeah," you said, not able to muster up the same enthusiasm. "I'm just glad we have the resources."

"Me too," she said, before returning to her work.

You sighed, trying to focus on the task at hand. But the anxiety was still gnawing at you, making it difficult to concentrate. You knew you would have to see Elijah tomorrow, and the thought terrified you.

The walk to the conference room felt like a death march, your legs heavy and your heart racing. You could already feel his presence, like a dark cloud hanging over the room.

You had barely slept, and when you did you had a very strange and intimate dream involving you and Elijah rolling around on coffee stained sheets. You had woken up, covered in a cold sweat and a little horny.

Now, as you opened the door and stepped into the room, the air seemed to crackle with tension. He was sitting at the table, dressed in a crisp suit, his hair perfectly styled, and his expression smug.

"Hello, darling," he said, his tone deceptively friendly. "Nice to see you again."

You narrowed your eyes at him, refusing to play along. "Hello Mr. Mikaelson. Let's get started, shall we?"

"Of course," he said, his gaze moving down your body. "You look lovely, as always."

You bit back a sharp retort, forcing yourself to remain professional. You couldn't afford to lose this job and his donation was substantial.

"So, the first step is choosing a venue," you began, trying to keep your voice steady.

"That has already been arranged, it will be hosted at my home," he informed you, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Okay, that's great," you said, swallowing hard. "Do you have a specific theme in mind?"

"I was thinking of a masquerade ball," he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Interesting choice," you said, taking notes on a pad of paper.

"You don't approve?" he asked, his tone playful.

"No, it's not that, it just seems a little overdone," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"It's a classic for a reason," he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

You sighed, "It's your party, if that's what you want, that's what we'll do."

He chuckled, enjoying your thinly veiled frustration. "Don't worry, you'll enjoy yourself."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I'm not going."

"Oh, yes you are," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"No, I'm not," you replied, glaring at him.

"You're going, because if you don't, I'll rescind my donation," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

His threat made your blood run cold, and you knew he meant every word.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked, trying to mask the anger in your voice.

"Doing what?" he asked, feigning innocence.

You leaned in close, lowering your voice. "Listen, you capitalist piece of shit. Leave me alone. Stop fucking with me."

"Sweetheart, I haven't even begun to fuck with you," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "And I'm really not what you think I am."

"I know exactly what you are," you hissed, barely controlling the urge to throttle him.

"Do tell," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

"You, and people like you are the reason we have poverty in this country. You have so much money and yet, you hoard it, you don't care about people like me or those who are less fortunate," you spat out, the anger burning hot in your chest.

He was silent for a moment, studying your face. Then, a slow smile spread across his lips. "You're quite passionate, aren't you?"

"Go to hell," you said, your jaw clenching.

"Now, now, darling. That's no way to speak to a benefactor," he chided, a smirk on his lips.

"You're not a benefactor, you're a menace," you shot back, not bothering to hide your disdain. "A drain on society,"

"I'll only say this one more time, I'm not what you think I am," he repeated, his expression unreadable.

"What are you then, huh?" you challenged, arching an eyebrow.

There was a quiet knock at the door, and one of your coworkers stuck her head in. "Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?"

"Not at all," Elijah said, smiling warmly. "What can I help you with?"

"Your coffee order has arrived Mr. Mikaelson," she said, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"Very good, bring it in," he instructed, his gaze never leaving yours.

You could smell the coffee, the scent filling the room, and your heart sank. This was clearly another dig at you, a way for him to remind you of your mistakes. He was so calculated, so ruthless, and it infuriated you.

She handed him a tray with two cups of coffee and a plate of pastries. "Here you go, sir. Would you like anything else?"

"No, that's all," he said, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you,"

She left the room, her cheeks still flushed, and you could see her casting glances at him as she walked away. It was obvious that he had the same effect on others as he did on you.

"Would you like some coffee, darling?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

You glared at him, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. He was being such a child, trying to get a reaction out of you, and it was working.

"Suit yourself," he said, a sly smile on his lips, "So, where were we?"

He took a long sip, his gaze never leaving yours. You were tempted to flip him off, but instead, you simply sat there, silently fuming until you couldn't stop the words from pouring out of your mouth.

"You're an asshole," you seethed, the anger finally boiling over.

He chuckled, placing his coffee cup down. "You know, I've been called worse."

"I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing, but I'm not interested," you continued, your hands balling into fists.

He could see how worked up you were, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Relax, I'm not trying to ruin your life,"

"Then why are you doing this?" you demanded, your voice shaking slightly.

"You're smart, why do you think?" he countered, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're attracted to me, and for some fucked up reason, this is how you decided to show it," you said, unable to hold back your irritation.

"Partly, yes," he agreed, smirking.

"Partly?" you echoed, not believing his arrogance.

"There are many things I find attractive about you," he said, his gaze moving slowly down your body, "Not just your physical attributes."

"Are we done here?" You snapped, standing up and gathering your belongings.

"I suppose, as long as you'll be attending the gala," he replied, getting to his feet and walking you towards the door.

"Fine," you growled, not meeting his eyes. "You're such a fucking prick,"

"Such language," he chided, a playful smirk on his lips. His hand reached out, and he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture surprisingly gentle.

You didn't want to enjoy his touch, nor did you want to admit the effect he had on you. So, you simply glared at him, refusing to back down.

"You're wasting my time, I need to get back to work," you said, trying to sound firm.

"Of course," he said, not moving away from the door.

"Can you move?" you asked, irritated.

"Only if you ask nicely," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips once more.

Your cheeks flushed, and you struggled to stay composed. He was so close, and his scent was intoxicating. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, you forgot to breathe. His dark eyes searched yours, and you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. He leaned in slowly, giving you ample opportunity to stop him. But you didn't, you were frozen in place, unable to resist the pull of his presence.

Just as his lips were about to touch yours, a loud knocking startled you, causing him to pull away.

Your boss came into the room, a large smile on her face.

"Hi, Mr. Mikaelson, thank you again for your generous donation. I just wanted to check in and see how the planning was going," she said, her tone overly bright and cheerful.

"It's going great, thanks," you managed to say, your mind reeling.

"Excellent," she said, looking between the two of you.

Elijah had his hands casually in his pockets, a slight smirk on his lips. While you were a complete mess, your cheeks flushed and your pulse raced. But if your boss noticed anything, she didn't let on.

"I'll leave the remaining work in your capable hands," he said, his gaze locked onto yours.

"Um, yeah, sure," you stammered, your mind still fuzzy from the near kiss.

He turned to your boss, a charming smile on his face. "Thank you for your hospitality, it was a pleasure."

"You're welcome," she said, blushing slightly. "And thank you again for the generous donation. We'll see you at the gala."

"Until then," he said, giving you one last heated look before leaving the room.

You watched him go, feeling confused and conflicted. What the hell had just happened?

"Are you alright?" your boss asked, her brow furrowed.

"Yeah, fine," you said, forcing a smile.

"He's a handsome one, isn't he? All class," she said, sighing dreamily.

You simply nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You could still feel the ghost of his lips against yours, and the memory of his touch lingering on your skin.

"I'll leave you to it," your boss said, leaving the room.

You sank into a chair, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. What was wrong with you? Why did this man affect you so much? He was a jerk, a bully, and a complete asshole. So why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog. Elijah Mikaelson was going to be the death of you.

{Part One}{Part Three}{Part Four}

[jarofstyles]

Lush

Hello my ducklings! Since we have been getting a lot of questions about our Patreon and what is included, we decided to give you guys peeks into the series we have exclusively on there. This is Lush, escort y/n x dark businessman H. There will be some twists and turns in this one, hot smut, a fake relationship and a possessive and slightly obsessive dark H- our favorite. This series will only be on Patreon but this is the first part to give you a taste!

Check out our Patreon for access to Lush and our other exclusive series + 100+ exclusive writings.

Warnings- escorting, mention of homelessness and money struggles, daddy kink etc

WC- 2.9k

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Y/N knew her job, and she did it well.

Sit still, look pretty. Perched on her favorite client’s lap, his strong thigh covered in a trouser that matched the blazer that probably cost more than she’d made in the last 3 months, she sipped her champagne quietly and ‘let the men talk.’

Harry Styles was an enigma. He had popped up a few weeks ago, bringing her to a dinner after a debriefing in a lux hotel in one of the bigger hotels on the Vegas strip. The window had overlooked it all, a penthouse that seemed to be used quite frequently considering the fridge had been stocked and he had socks stuffed in a drawer that she’d used later that night.

“I need you to sit on my lap, keep me company.” He had said plainly. The man was intimidating. Broad and tall, soft brown hair swept back and off his forehead. Stubble shadowing his face and over his lip, his features were sharp and his eyes a little harsh, but she could whole heartedly admit that he was the most attractive client she’d ever had. Being a year in after escaping a situation that was still haunting her nightmares, she had been eager to accept the higher paying and well vetted job she had, thank god, stumbled into. It wasn’t conventional, no, but nothing really was in Vegas.

“I can do that.” She replied, hands folded in her lap. He stood before her as she had sat on the couch, looking up at him as he spoke. “Is that all we’re doing in our time together?” To put it in a nicer way of asking. She could have bluntly asked if he was going to want sex, but she did try to at least have a little decorum- until the situation granted the freedom of it. It wasn’t uncommon for her and she was safe, tested, and generally did enjoy sex- but it was a job. This time, however, would probably be enjoyed more than she had in the past. A real attraction to the man would be helpful in many parts of making this more enjoyable.

“Who said that?” He rose a brow, looking down at her. It was a smoldering look but she couldn’t find it in herself to look away as he got closer and tilted her chin up. “I intend to take everything you’ll offer. I’d suggest canceling your plans for tomorrow.” She didn’t have to ask why. It was clear this man intended to fuck her, and fuck her well.

Spoiler- he did.  Harry had, for all intents and purposes, rocked her shit. So when she found his name on her books twice the next week, she hadn’t complained. She’d been excited, actually, considering she’d been able to feel the sting of her ass when she’d sat in the Lyft the next morning to take her to her apartment. Another good thing about him, she found as she looked in her purse, was that he tipped extremely well. More than was deserved, if she was being honest, but the one time the girl brought it up he had shoved another hundred dollar bill into the waistband of her sleep shorts and sent her on her way.

It had become known to her that he specifically requested her. If she wasn’t available, he’d offer more money than the other client was paying- and her Madam had no problem with that, considering it upped her cut. She found herself with him 3 times this week, frequenting clubs and drowning out business talk as his large hand splayed across her waist and the other hand held a sweaty amber colored liquor on the rocks. Much to many of her friends and client’s surprise, Y/N didn’t drink much. She stuck to lighter things, champagne and rosé, and kept to a one to two drink maximum. She preferred keeping a clear head when on the job and honestly? Drinking wasn’t her thing. A buzz was nice, but anything past that meant a headache in the morning. She wasn’t a morning person to begin with.

This meeting was going past its normal time, making her wonder what was being said. If she was being frank- Y/N didn’t do much listening in his meetings. It felt like they were talking in code, another language, and she couldn’t be assed to listen about imports and exports and blah, blah, blah. Her brain was happy to sit and be warm on a handsome man’s lap, observing the dance floor. Dancing used to be so fun, something she’d always loved to do as a child. Now she didn’t get to do as much, even though she’d wished she could. Club dancing was far different than her normal type but if she was on the balcony of the most VIP of the VIP sections, she was going to take her people watching to the next level.

“Y’alright?” His raspy voice breathed over her ear, not taking his eyes off the men who were talking amongst themselves. “I know it’s late. We can go back soon.” While Harry wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person, he did respect her time. He was a little scary, truthfully, and she didn’t want to upset him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was respectful and kind to her, he spoiled her with tips and orgasms, and she had no complaints. If staying out a bit later than he had said was the least of her worries besides his scowling, she was golden.

“I’m okay.” She smiled. “People watching. Sorry, I’m not paying attention. Dunno what half of the stuff you’re talking about means.”

Y/N had no reality of what he did. No clue. She was too afraid to google him. To ruin the illusion she had of him in her head. He passed the background test and signed the heavy contract that came with hiring her, so he wasn’t about to harm her or anything- and from what she’s learned in Vegas, sometimes you’re better off not knowing. There was a lot of shady business practices that went on. It was legitimately upset her if he was a bad person outside of the law, so she decided not to go searching for answers she possibly didn’t want to find.

“That’s good.” He murmured, pressing a private kiss underneath her ear. “Don’t worry about it. S’nothing interesting anyways. Got t’keep up appearances.” His voice dropped. “Would much rather be between your thighs. Missed this body while I was away.”

And, Oh. It made her hot, a nervous giggle leaving her throat as the words tickled against her ear. Harry had gone away on a business trip, he’d prefaced it because he had been gone 4 day. He’d prescheduled to meet her on the day he came back. Her stomach did a swoop in her body as the cool hand that held his glass deposited it on the table, finding her thigh and squeezing over it. “You did?”

She had to wonder if he was buttering her up, but the thought was dispelled because Harry didn’t need to do that. He had always been a bit blunt and she liked that about him. Less sweet talk that he didn’t mean. What he said made sense- complimenting her body and her mouth and appearance, what she did for him, but he never went too far and said things he didn’t mean. So she believed him when he nodded, slipping his hand further up her dress and making her swallow thickly. He’d given her pretty lingerie he’d bought from wherever he went, the buttery silk laying against her body under the dress that hugged her figure. Red, he said, because she was a little devil between the sheets. “I did. Got t’bring you with me next time.”

Some girls did that. Y/N wasn’t even sure what the rate would be for a trip, but the idea appealed to her. “You sure you can afford it?” She whispered back, a playful tilt to her lips. Obviously he could. He was by far the wealthiest man she had in her books, evident by the liquor he ordered, the watches he wore and the cars the drove in. It was arousing to her, if she was being honest. When she settled down one day, the one thing she really wanted was financial stability. Maybe that sounded shallow, but with her history with no money and being a little jaded, it made sense to her.

“Can afford that, and a shopping spree for you while I do business.” He brushed his cool fingertips against her slightly damp panties. Harry didn’t smile often, but when he did? It was a smirk. A hot, arrogant little smirk that she should probably be annoyed by, but wasn’t. “Need to get you out of here, though. Have something I want to talk to you about before I sink you down on my cock.” His fingers retreated after a gentle brush to find them wet, moving to her leg as he began to wrap up the meeting. People would listen, even if they weren’t finished- he just had that way about him.

—--

Y/N had no clue what, exactly, he wanted to talk to her about. They’d had some nice conversations so far about a plethora of things. Movies, books, restaurants, some morals. But it wasn’t too deep. Both of them had seen it for what it was, even if they had impeccable sexual chemistry. She didn’t know the man all that well, only what was told to her and what he had divulged- and knowing the man had a sweet tooth didn’t account for much. So it was slightly intimidating when he asked her to meet him in the living room of the suite as he put away his watch and jacket.

What could he possibly have to talk to her about? Her brain was coming up with nothing.

“C’mere.” He sat himself down on the couch, offering his lap back up to her. It wasn’t something she did in private unless his hands were down her panties or she was riding him, but she decided to go for it. Her heels kicked off to the side, she sat herself back in the familiar way. It had taken her off guard, but his hand took her own and she watched as he flipped it over, thumbing over her ring finger. “I need to ask you a favor. A proposition.” He murmured, calculating eyes going back to her face. “And you can say no, if you want. I’ll understand.” Of course, this made her alarm bells ring but there was little time to panic. Considering he was a very get to the point man, he did exactly that. “I’d like for you to quit your current job and pretend to be my fiance.”

The bomb was dropped. Why, exactly, a man of his caliber needed a fake fiance? She had not a fucking clue. Harry continued, her face slack in shock. He took that into account, it seemed. “I like you. You’re polite, know how to behave in public. Gorgeous little thing. You’re intelligent, you’re quick, and you understand how to keep to yourself. That’s a very valuable thing to me.” His thumb resumed rubbing her ring finger. “We have incredible sex. You fulfill and exceed my needs, and I’m satisfied with sex for once in my life.” Y/N let him do whatever he wanted and thoroughly enjoyed it. There was no faking it with them. Their chemistry crackled in the air when it shifted. There was no doubting that. “My family has been pressuring me to settle down. I have no time to properly date, nor the desire to.” He sure as fuck wasn’t the type to go on dating apps, and the dating pool he was around was a lot of vapid people with money hungry libidos. At least he would know Y/N was there for money and there would be no confusion between them. “I enjoy your company. It isn’t traditional nor conventional, but I’d provide for you. I will deposit your average monthly income in your own bank account and give you a card to my own. I’d pay for your rent while you stay with me, and you’d have free time to do as you please. Whatever hobbies you’d like. Horse riding, art, reading, I don’t care what it is if you like it.”

Her head was swimming. What the fuck? She’d heard of men falling in love with escorts, sure, but this seemed… More transactional. For some reason, it made her feel a little more comfortable. He wasn’t proclaiming love after barely knowing her. He knew how it went and that she needed to be provided for. “Like a sugar baby?” She blurted out.

“Not particularly. My fiance in title. You’ve been introduced as my girl to everyone already, so it isn’t a difficult sell to anyone but my family. We’d announce our engagement, I’ll bring you to London to meet them, let it run it’s course.” His eyes bore into hers. “I don’t want you with anyone else while you’re mine. I’ll be the only one you sleep with, and vice versa. I don’t want you to split your time between me and anyone else. I’m asking for devotion, which is a lot. But I’d like it to be you.”

“Why?” Y/N knew he had explained it but it was still confusing. “I know what you’ve said but… surely theres other people that you’d want to ask? I’m just an escort you’ve been seeing for a little while. I mean.. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong.” And she was extremely attracted to him and his energy, but… “I’m not in my escort mode all the time. I don’t want to be working 24/7. I’m not as docile while off the clock.” She wasn’t about to get put into 24/7 smile and nod territory. It was fine when it was an outing, or even a night, but she did have a personality she quite liked outside of it.

“I wouldn’t expect you to be agreeable all the time. In fact, I’d like to see you fight me a little.” Harry’s smirk returned. “Makes the sex hotter. But…” he returned to his business face. “I chose you because we get along. I don’t like a lot of people. I may pretend I do, but it’s difficult for me to find people who don’t make me irritated. You’re… interesting to me.” It wasn’t the answer she expected, no, but still. She had more questions.

“So what about after it’s all done and over with? I’ll end up on the streets, homeless again because I know Madam isn’t going to just let me back on her lists.” She crossed her arms, not realizing what she’d said. Harry caught it, pocketing it for later. It didn’t sit right that she had been on the streets at all, but that wasn’t a topic he could broach right now. He didn’t have the right to ask yet.

“I will make sure you’re set after this is done.” He promised. “I will have all of your expenses covered while you’re with me. Nails, hair, food, clothing, hobbies. You’ll be making your pay and then some every week and not touching it. And if it ends early, I will payout an extra mil. Does that sound reasonable?” He rose an eyebrow. “I’ve got the paperwork with me, but you can sit on it if you want.”

“How long can I sit on it for?” It took everything in her to not bite at her nails. The one thing the acrylics were good for was curbing that habit. “It’s not a no, but I’d like to look at the contract and have a lawyer look over it before I agree to anything.” As young as she may seem, she wasn’t stupid. This would be a perfect way to take advantage of her. While she didn't have that feeling from him, she’d be dumb not to protect herself.

She didn’t expect the smile from him, but it made her heart beat a bit faster as he brought her hand up to kiss it. “Smart fuckin’ girl you are.” He laughed. “Good. That works with me. I hope you do sign it, though.” His eyes darkened a bit. Harry wasn’t good at sharing and the idea of this pretty thing belonging to him, in essence, made his dick twitch. “I’d love to take you with me to Italy and see you on my yacht. Maybe fuck you on it. Think you’d really love that.”

Y/N had a feeling she would, too. The idea of being with one man, a man she so far enjoyed despite a bit of arrogance and intimidation, was appealing after a year here. But she needed to cover her own ass before sinking into something too good to be true. “I would.” Her nails moved from his hand to card through his soft hair. “I’d love that. But I think you should focus on tonight, hm?” Her legs opened a little, and she guided his hand back to where it had been previously. “Take a look at the pretty things you’ve already got, Daddy.”

[superbat-lmao]

It really strikes me how in so many fics where Dick Grayson meeting Jason Todd goes badly, where Jason is written to have a past history of sexual abuse usually, how callous/direct/abrasive Dick comes across through Jason’s perspective.

Like returning home and being suspicious of a stranger in your house, being so in the middle of your own feud with your adoptive father and family problems that it doesn’t even occur to you to snap into Robin/Nightwing training.

There are some I’ve seen where Dick actively makes it worse for Jason, like asking who the hell he is or saying to Bruce “you didn’t tell me you were getting another one” or especially anything A/B/O related because people love to write highly emotional reactions with those sorts of subtexts being explicitly laid out with the “scent” meanings.

But just, it strikes me how many people write him as an aggressive teenager who thinks he’s been replaced and that his father, who revoked his access to being a hero/his mother’s name for him out of a fucked up/misdirected sense of protection, doesn’t want him anymore. That it wouldn’t occur to him, in his own home, to have to respond to a situation with the same level of caution and understanding he grants survivors as Nightwing. That he’s really just 18 and in a space where he’s been conditioned to keep “cape business” downstairs and is reacting with all of the emotional volatility of a teenager because it’s the level of compartmentalization that Bruce instilled in him and he’s so woefully unprepared to have to code switch back into being Nightwing when met with familial turmoil.

And that Jason couldn’t possibly know any of this from The King of Emotional Repression™️ and that the man didn’t think to inform Dick of Jason’s situation. That Bruce can’t understand why it would hurt Dick to come home to something like this, or how it would harm Jason to be met with teenage hostility that is adult hostility.

There are a lot of fics where people write that Jason thinks B will “get rid of him” and other sorts of self deprecative phrases about him being homeless, a street rat, “turning tricks” in some cases. And that Dick is so blindsided by his own personal problems with Bruce that he just, none of this occurs to him.

That he really is only 18 and suddenly expected to be able to handle things he’s never even considered. He’s been trained to handle difficult cases, to see the worst of the worst, but Dick’s only 18 and has far less experience with families than he does with drug smuggling.

He’s an acrobat and a hero because of his training. He’s still learning to be a son, and now a brother.