#He’s had to have made this joke at least once

[marblehazel]

Teething

dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel was crowned as The Trusted Adult to accompany you to your wisdom teeth extraction appointment. Chaos ensued.

Tags: no outbreak, age gap, most likely exaggerated effects of sedation, sexual themes

Word count: 3.1k

The skies were painted with shades of copper and lilac when you arrived home. A familiar pickup truck was parked in the driveway next to your dad’s own F-150, and you slipped your way through the narrow passage between the two to get to the backyard through the narrow side alley of your house, sticking twigs of overgrown shrub brushing against your arm.

Laughter bounced against the pillars supporting rusting canopy adorned with vines and wildflowers, echoing around the tiny dining area. Around the table were three men you could discern blindfolded: your dad and his friends, Joel and Tommy Miller. The three looked pretty scruffy, which made sense since they most likely just got out of work before they decided to have some beer and smoked ham time at your house. As usual.

Tommy made a comment about a boat and your dad and Joel burst out laughing again, almost shaking the earth with the lethal combination of old men’s simplistic jokes and immense vocal cords abilities.

They hardly noticed your presence until you put both hands on your dad’s shoulders, kissing the top of his head. He smelled like barbecue smoke.

“What’s so funny?” you grin. Joel greeted you with a polite nod, while Tommy put down his beer can to wave at you. “Hi Joel, hi Tommy.”

“Sweetheart!” your dad slightly twisted his torso to meet your gaze. “Tommy was telling us about his recent fishing trip. How was today?”

“Okay-ish,” you patted his shoulders once more before letting go and starting to make your way towards the backdoor, leaving the men to their fishing jokes again. “Have fun, guys.”

“Oh, before I forget!” your dad clapped. “I am so sorry, but I won’t be able to take you to the dentist this Thursday. They want me in San Antonio to overlook—”

“Daaad,” you groaned, although your face showed nothing akin to annoyance, just sorry. “I’ll see if my friend can take me.” you tried to comfort him, even though knowing your friends, you’d have a bigger chance of losing your teeth in a car crash than in the operating room.

“What’s happenin’?” Tommy furrowed his brows. “You okay?”

“I’m having my wisdom teeth removed,” you pointed at your cheek, the approximate area where the third molar of your upper right side of jaw was growing sideways. “One popped out and it’s growing weirdly, so I got an x-ray and it turned out all four of them are developing in such shitty positions, so, they’re taking them all out.”

“All at once?!” Tommy gasped, to which you nodded as you purse your lips.

“More cost-effective, or whatever.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ll take her,” all eyes went to the source of the voice: Joel. He was staring directly at your dad. “I’m free Thursday.”

“‘Ppreciate that, man, but—”

“Really?” you beamed, prancing your way towards his seat and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Joel!”

The man raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat while Tommy laughed. Your dad shook his head slowly at your endearing antics, his eyes meeting Joel’s as they silently said ‘Thank you, and sorry’.

The next time Joel’s gray Ranger pulled up in front of your house, you had been waiting on the porch with a smile worthy enough to be on a billboard advertising toothpaste.

.

The fog in your head started to clear just enough to let you notice the figure sitting by your side. Joel’s broad shoulders took up half the room—or at least it felt that way in your dazed state. His arms were crossed, and his brows furrowed as he watched you with what looked like mild concern. You blinked a few times, your vision wobbling like you were looking through a fishbowl. You couldn’t really register where you were or how you ended up here yet.

“Hey,” he straightened his posture up the second he realized you were awake.

“Whoa,” you slurred, pointing a wobbly finger at him. “You look good.”

Because he did. That was the first thing you noticed about him. You couldn’t remember if it was exactly true, but a voice in your head told you that Joel always looked good. You believed it. And he did right now, with clothes all ironed, beard trimmed, hair combed. Joel wouldn’t admit it, but he’d even put some styling powder on his hair today.

His lips twitched, and he scratched at his beard, unsure of the appropriate response to give. “Uh, thanks. How are you feeling?”  

You ignored the question. “Does my dad know you’re here?”  

“Yeah,” he said slowly, leaning closer. “He was there when I said I’d take you here, remember?”  

“No.” You deadpanned, voice thick and blunt. Your tongue scraped against your gum, and it touched some soft, fibery, wet cotton balls. You almost gagged.

Joel sighed. “Alright. Uh, pain anywhere? Are you comfortable?”  

You tilted your head, as if trying to access some hidden inner truth. Then, with startling conviction, you announced, “Sweaty.”

He quickly raised from his seat, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket to wipe your forehead with when you suddenly choked into tears. You could barely get the words out through the swollen jaw, numb tongue, and spiky throat. “I miss my daddy…”

You felt like the saddest child in the world. You didn’t know where your dad was, but most importantly, your brain wasn’t able to assess where he might be. But he wasn’t here. And that alone was enough to send you spiraling into agony.

Joel looked around awkwardly, clearly out of his depth. “Sweetie,” he said, reaching out to pat your cheek gently. “I’m here.”

You blinked up at him with wide, glassy eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “Where is he? Did he sell me to you?”  

“What?” if only you were sober enough to see the expression on his face. 

Tears continued to pool in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. “What am I supposed to do, being sold to a person like you?”  

“Person like me—What’s that supposed to mean,” Joel withdrew, seemingly offended momentarily before he realized he was talking to a group of at most six brain cells, half of them blackout drunk.

“Hot,” you sniffled. “Hot like you.”

Joel freezed. His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment before he muttered, “O…kay. Uh, let’s call for a nurse, okay?” He stood up and looked toward the hallway.

“I don’t even know how to be a housewife!” you lamented, gesturing wildly toward a painting of sand dunes on the wall. “You’re going to dump me in the middle of a desert!”  

“Honey,” Joel said, his voice strained but calm. “Nobody is dumping or selling anybody, okay? Just—wait here. I’m gonna go get a nurse. I’ll only be gone for, like, five seconds.”  

You watched him disappear behind the wall, your lips quivering as you began counting on your fingers. “One… two… three… four… five…” You looked up at the hallway, waiting for Joel to come back as you realized how alone you were in the room. You didn’t want to be alone. The fluorescent light was hurting your eyes and the air smelled like a dentist’s office. You were in one, but you didn’t really register that. Panic set in like a tidal wave. “Joel?” 

“Joel! JOEL!” You thrashed in the chair, trying to swing your legs over to touch the ground, ready to bolt after him like some kind of lovesick lunatic. It was hard, like you were learning controls for a video game for the first time, and your limbs didn’t move the way you wanted them to. Joel returned with a nurse moments after. She was holding a clipboard and if not for the mask hiding her expression, Joel would have seen that she was wearing a smile that looked dangerously close to a laugh.

“You’re back! I thought you were leaving me…” your voice cracked as you reached out toward Joel with snot running freely down your upper lip. “I’ll be a good wife from now on, Joel, I promise.”  

“Oh,” the nurse said sweetly. “Sounds like someone’s still a little loopy.”  

Joel ran a hand over his face, mortified. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” she smiled at him before checking on you. “Definitely not the worst I’ve witnessed. You’ll be okay, won’t you, sweetheart?”

You nodded.

She asked you to open your mouth, and you attempted to talk to Joel the entirety of it, moving your heavy tongue around, making barely coherent noises. At one point you reached for his hand and he took it.

“Hoew, wa ho hayhee hee hahee?” which would translate to ‘Joel, was our wedding in Bali?’, like Joel would’ve been able to decipher it. He just played along in hopes to shut you up.

“Yes, yes, of course.” he cupped your hand in his.

“Okay, now bite down with pressure, okay?” the nurse said softly after pulling the blood-soaked cotton balls out and replacing them with new ones. You did as she said. “That’s good. Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” you smiled at her. “You’re so nice.”

“And you’re so nice, too.” she said as she gathered her clipboard and metal tray. “We’re all clear here, you are free to go home. If you prefer to wait out until she’s not so disoriented anymore, please use our waiting room since we have to clean this one before the next patient.”

“Thank you.” Joel nodded politely at her.

“Any more questions you’d like to ask the doctor?”

“I think we’re all covered. Thank you for everything. Let’s go, sweetie.” he helped you stand up, and the second he let go your body leaned, craving to touch the floor. Both him and the nurse reached out to you, crashing their heads in the process.

“Ow!” she yelped.

“Sorry, sorry. I got her. I’m really sorry.” he slightly bowed down as he held you steady, one palm planted on your ribs just below your breasts.

“Sorry,” you parroted, utterly oblivious to what just happened.

“It’s alright,” she laughed lightheartedly as she reached down to fix your shoelaces. “There you go.”

“Thank you again. We’ll stay out of your hair now.”

.

After what felt like eighty years, Joel finally got you on the passenger seat. He could feel his lifespan shortened significantly, and his back hurt so much trying to crouch to your level as he guided you across the parking lot. He should’ve just carried you—would’ve been much quicker and better for everyone involved.

You touched the dashboard, feeling the texture underneath your fingers like it was the first time you got in a car. Joel closed the door next to you and scurried his way around the car hood to the driver’s side, sighing when he got in.

“Joel, what’s your favorite pie?” you asked as he leaned over to put your seatbelt on, hand fiddling with the belt when it got stuck and you instinctively ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Pecan,” he muttered, body getting tense under your casual yet intimate touch.

“Oh, I had pecan pie at my house recently.” you withdrew your fingers as Joel straightened up and put his own seatbelt on. “We’re like, soulmates, or something.”

Joel started the car. “Yes, that was me. I brought the pie to your house.”

“Wow, you’re so kind.” you smiled, eyes tearing up, as if bringing you pie was the equivalent of saving all kittens in the world. Joel rolled his eyes and shifted the gear from neutral, and the two of you slowly moved out of the office parking lot to the road.

You cupped your own swelled cheeks, feeling the spherical cotton balls nested between your jaws. “I don’t like these, Joel.”

“Yeah? Wanna take them out? Do you think the bleeding has stopped?” his eyes ran between you and the road in front of him back and forth, getting ready to merge onto the highway.

“My mouth is so full,” you whined, and you fished one cotton ball out, all wet and slightly red, before rolling the window down and throwing it out. It bounced on the dry concrete behind you briefly before it got run over by another car.

“Hey, no littering! And keep your arm inside, my fucking god, d’ya wanna lose it?” Joel yelled, one arm leaving the steering wheel to pull your hand into the car and close the window back up, almost taking up the lane next to you. A semi-truck passed through and the driver honked their horn, deafening. You snarled at it while Joel mouthed a quiet ‘fuck’.

“I still got more inside,” you pointed at your open mouth, like Joel couldn’t tell from your slightly muffled voice still.

“I know, but either keep it in your mouth until we get home, or find some—I don’t know, plastic bag to keep it in, alright? Try the glove box.” he points at the compartment in front of you. You fiddled with the handle, and when it opened it revealed a little toolbox, a pocket knife, a folded map, and two dusty condoms from God knows when.

“Joel, what is this?” you pinched one out for Joel to see, voice thick with betrayal. “You’re cheating on me.”

Good fucking god. Joel snatched the thing out of your hand, shoving it back into the glove box before slamming it closed. He shouldn’t have been panicking like you were actually his bride and he’d been two-timing you after work, because you weren’t, and the only thing that had been in touch with his dick in the past six months was his fist. “I don’t know how it got there. It’s from a while ago.”

But the damage had been done. You covered your face with your hands, eventually took the remaining cotton balls out and let them go onto the floor mats. Joel winced.

“What should I do? Is my blowjob not good enough?”

Joel was the most uncomfortable he had ever been his whole life right now, and he once witnessed his friends’ parents hitting it crazy style with the same banana pudding that was served at dinner smeared everywhere when he was there for a sleepover, so that was saying a lot.

“You have never—what are you fuckin’ doing?!”

You had leaned over as much as your seatbelt allowed you to, fingers reaching to unbuckle his belt. “I’m gonna show you how good I c—”

Joel lost control of the steering wheel as he tried to shoo you away, but you latched your palm around his bulge like leech. He accidentally turned the truck too much to the left, switching lanes without warning, and abruptly hit the brakes for a split second when he thought he was going to crash into a Camaro, almost slamming you forward if not for the seatbelt. Three cars honked at the two of you as they passed, one was generous enough to give you the finger.

He pushed you back to your seat, both of you huffing and puffing. There was silence for about thirty seconds until Joel composed himself.

“What the fuck did they put you under, because I need some,” he muttered under his breath before speaking clearer. “Put your hands on the dashboard. Now,” he commanded, eyes flicking between you and the road.

“Why?” you mumbled, your fingers twitching like they might reach for Joel’s belt again.

“Because I said so,” Joel grunted, shifting in his seat to try to hide his hardening length, jaw tense as he kept one hand firmly on the wheel. “You wanna be a good wife, don’t you?”

You blinked slowly. Joel was right, you wanted to be a good wife.

“Yeah,” Joel continued, eyes narrowing slightly, still focused on the road. “Only good wives put their hands on the dashboard.”

“Really?” you laughed, the sound drifting lazily out of you. But you planted both palms on the dashboard anyway, sunlight pouring on the back of your hands, warming them up. 

“Yeah—yeah,” he muttered. “Look it up.”

“I can’t, my hands are on the dashboard,” you frowned, chin pointing towards your splayed fingers.

Joel rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You just have to believe me, then.”

You thought of it for a second before nodding. “Okay. I believe you.” 

He glanced at you, eyebrows lifting. “You should. You’re my wife.”

Your head tilted, a lazy grin spreading across your face as you processed the words. You’re my wife. Somehow that was the most beautiful string of words you had ever heard. “Am I a good wife?”

“Sure. You got your hands on the dashboard. Guess that makes you a good wife,” Joel said. Your loopy grin was infectious despite his best efforts to stay stoic.

“I’m a good wife,” you repeated to yourself, beaming.

There was a beat of silence before you leaned slightly toward him, eyes bright, head swaying with the motion of the truck. “Are you a good husband?”

Joel’s grip on the steering wheel tightened for a split second, his gaze flicking to the side, then back to the road. “...I don’t know. Do you think I’m a good husband?”

“Yeah,” you said immediately, so sure of yourself as you gathered the evidence in your hazy brain. “You took me to the dentist. You got me pecan pie.”

Joel scoffed, his hands tightening on the wheel. “Driving and pies, guess that’s the key to a successful marriage.”

.

By dinner time you were already out of your groggy state, although the pain started to creep back in despite the painkillers that you just sat in the living room with a frozen pouch of CapriSun pressed against your cheek. Joel hadn’t said much but he did stay until your dad got home.

He had hoped you blacked out and didn’t remember anything from earlier. He wasn’t sure if he could live knowing you were able to remember that you were so eager to put your mouth on him, on top of you calling yourself his wife, on top of you casually admitting you found him hot.

And because he got hard in the car. He didn’t know if you saw it but for his own peace he would like to believe that you didn’t.

Joel was a little bit grateful that Tommy wasn’t there because he would never let this die.

He would never let this die himself.

When your dad set some burritos for Joel and applesauce for you on the counter, Joel was ready to go home and get drunk while pondering in the shower.

“You’re leaving already?” you licked the applesauce, tasting it innocently, and Joel had to remind himself that licking applesauce was not a sexually enticing act.

“Yeah, working early tomorrow. Get well soon.” he stood awkwardly as he pocketed his keys.

“Thanks a lot, man,” your dad got up to give Joel a hug with his back facing away from you, and you stared Joel dead in the eyes as you mouthed playfully: ‘Husband.’

His lips twitched. Seemed like he would never know peace ever again.

[thewoollyviking]

Yes, Rose fucked up. She fucked up interpersonally with the gems and with Greg. And those choices were hers. She should be judged by those actions.

But why exactly do you think she kept those secrets? You think it’s because she’s some manipulative monsters or selfish coward?

No, it’s because she grew up under a living hell under the Diamonds.

Lemme give you some context here, friend;

According to the art books, all four Diamonds are rough around 20,000 years old. To give you an idea how old that is compared to irl history…

There are figures early humans carved from mammoth ivory and spear tip of flint that were made when the bottom of the North Sea was still a mammoth steppe in Doggerland.

Subtract the time Rose spent on Earth after the war (give or take a few centuries) and assuming the craptastic treatment she endured under the Diamonds has pretty much been the norm for all that time, and she had been abused for roughly 10-12,000 years. Rose’s pain predates written language and agriculture.

I. Do not. Give. A single. Chicken. Fried. Fuck. How sad the Diamonds think they were after losing Rose.

Oooooh booo fucking hooo Blue sulked in the middle of a human zoo Rose never even wanted in the first place.

Yellow knew she wanted to spare Earth and wanted to blow it up.

And White’s first action seeing “Pink” return was to send a mind controlled version of her original Pearl to greet her as a power move. To remind her what happens when she doesn’t control her power.

They didn’t mourn Rose. They mourned the person they wanted her to be.

And that’s made all the more clear once they realize Steven isn’t Rose. No moment to think about how Rose being gone was actually their own fault, not the act of some outside gem. Not moment to think about why Rose was so desperate to run away.

“Aww Pink’s gone? Gee that sucks. Welp, time to find a new pink!”

Fuck dude, some people mourn Healthcare CEOs more than the Diamonds actually mourned Rose.

And yet they get that nice fairy tale happy ending where they can be quirky space grandmas who think what they’re doing will ever hope to make up for the suffering they caused.

Meanwhile, Rose’s own loved ones feel like they have to apologize for daring to mention her in a positive light and say they’re making excuses for her.

Steven by the time of Future isn’t facing any gems that are actually a threat (bluebird is a joke character she don’t fucking count). He’s spent 5 seasons demonstrating why it’s better to talk about your feelings and the gems offer to help him at pretty much every turn and yet Steven chooses to forego that in favor of taking everything out on Rose.

The Diamonds have been the instigators who make every worse without fail. They’re the reason Rose came out as such a broken fucking person and yet we’re asked to pass more judgement on her for not being enough of a perfect fucking princess to solve things Steven’s way?

Rose spent her entire goddamn life clawing her way out of that pit of misery but we’re supposed to scoff at her for getting mud on her dress along the way?

What the fuck was the point in showing that Rose spent that lifetime trying to be better to just end it with “maybe her family would be better off if they just stopped thinking about her altogether.”

There’s a fucking reason this stupid fucking fandom took glee in harassing me and friends of mine for not joining them in burning Rose at the stake and it’s because of how Future, either due to time constraints or genuine creative decisions, completely dropped the ball on her.

I still love this show. But I cannot and will not ever watch Future. And if Rose ain’t there to heal, than at least let me take comfort in making the Diamonds hurt.

Sometimes I think about how and why some people had such a *bad* reaction to the end of Steven Universe, specifically in regards to the Diamonds living.

Even though they no longer are causing harm to others and are able to actually undo some of their previous harm by living, some folks reacted as though this ending was somehow morally suspect. Morally bankrupt, even.

And I think it might be because so many of us were raised on a very specific kind of kids media trope:

They all fall to their deaths.

Disney loves chucking their bad guys off cliffs. And it makes sense- in a moral framework where villains *must* be punished (regardless of whether their death will actually prevent further harm or not), but killing of any kind is morally bad for the hero, the narrative must find a way to kill the villain without the protagonists doing a murder.

It's a moral assumption that a person can *deserve* to die, that it is cosmically just for them to die, that them dying is evidence that the story itself is morally good and correct. Scar *deserves* to die, but it would be bad for Simba to kill him. So....cliff. (edit: yes, cliff then hyenas. But cliff first. Lol.)

Steven Universe, whatever else it's faults, took a step back and said "but if killing people is bad, then people dying is bad", and instead of dropping White Diamond off a cliff, asked "what would actual *restorative*, not punitive, justice look like? What would actual reparations mean here? If the goal is to heal, not just to punish, how do we handle those who have done harm?" And then did that.

Which I think is interesting, and that there was pushback against it is interesting.

It also reminds me of the folks who get very weird about Aang not killing Ozai at the end of Avatar. And like, Ozai still gets chucked in prison, so it doesn't even push back on our cultural ideas of punitive justice *that much.* and still, I've seen people get real mad that the child monk who is the last survivor of a genocide that wiped out his entire pacifist culture didn't do a murder.

[cybrasigilism]

Hi! I really loved all your works, especially This Means War. I wanted to ask if you can write the second part cause it’s sooo interesting

All Is Fair (This Means War Pt ll)

warning: typical squid game stuff (guns mention, blood and death), love triangle (?), reader replaces gyeong-su (player 256) | ooc(?), these are my interpretations of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions differ from your own

characters: kang dae-ho (player 388), thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

[minor characters mentioned: players 456, 001, 390, 222, 124, 380 (seong gi-hun, young-il/hwang in-ho, park jung-bae, kim jun-hee, nam-gyu, se-mi]

-

A/N: you guys have asked and i shall deliver! i did my nails before writing this and lemme tell you typing an entire fic on my phone with acrylics was not easy work! i hope you guys enjoy :3

ENJOY!

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

your head was completely reeling.

you were thrown into these games completely blind. sure you were desperate and strapped for cash, but as soon as you bore witness to countless people lose their lives over a game of Red Light Green Light, you decided that no amount of money was worth such a heartless and gruesome death.

so you were counting your blessings when the time to vote rolled around, absolutely you were going to vote “X” and get the everloving fuck out of there, as you were sure everyone else would make the same choice. i mean, who in their right mind would want to stay in such a place? you figured that even if people were desperate, the stakes were just too high for anyone to handle. although your brief conversation with your new friend player 388, AKA dae-ho, seemed to lift your mood just a bit, you wanted to get the hell out of that place. you found yourself approaching him when the players gathered up to await their chance to cast their vote, you figured it couldn’t hurt to stay close to a friend, especially now.

“at least we still get our share of the prize money if we do end up leaving.” you commented, as the players before you began to disperse into the X and O sides of the room. “yeah, i guess..” dae-ho seemed distant, you noticed that he was analyzing that golden, luminous piggy bank that loomed over everyone as some sick motivator. “but even that much won’t be enough for some people’s debts.” you chuckled at the last bit of his statement, covering your mouth with your hand as you did so. “what’s the joke?” he asked, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “i mean, if you’re debt is that big, then there’s bigger problems for sure.” you giggled, met with silence from 388. you looked up at him to be met with an expression that caused a lump in your throat; realizing what you had just said. “oh my god wait, i didn’t mean-“ “it’s fine.” he interrupted, attempting to hide the shame in his voice. coincidentally, that just so happened to be the exact moment that dae-ho’s number was called, and he walked up without a word. you felt your cheeks grow warmer, but this time it wasn’t from any good feeling— you were completely embarrassed at how ignorant you had just been with your friend, and unfortunately for you, someone else had seen this whole uncomfortable interaction take place.

thanos approached you with swift succession once dae-ho had cast his vote, which you watched as your heart sank; seeing the number increase by one underneath the “O” on the scoreboard. the purple-haired rapper had been standing behind you for a prolonged period of time before he made himself known with a

tap tap tap

on your shoulder, you whipped around and felt your expression harden when you realized the culprit. “seems like homeboy is too sensitive, that’s unfortunate.” he joked, crossing his arms as he referenced dae-ho’s general direction quickly with his gaze. you rolled your eyes and scoffed. “you don’t have a clue what’s going on, it’s none of your business.” you didn’t want to give the obnoxious has-been any more attention than he was already getting, as you were given full demonstration of before. you turned away, restoring your view to the front which virtually did nothing to deter thanos, as he followed suit and adjusted his own positioning accordingly. “whatever happened, it definitely wasn’t your fault-“ you couldn’t believe how persistent this guy was, it pissed you off to the nth degree. “why do you care? it has nothing to do with you.. i don’t know why you bother inserting yourself.” you refused to even look at him, you didn’t know how or why but he was truly pissing you off at the very moment.

“shit, y’ don’t need to be on the offensive señorita.” thanos crossed his arms, eyeing every single player who voted X. you shot him a glare, where did he get off giving you a nickname like that? “don’t you dare call me that again.” you hissed through gritted teeth, poking him in the chest as you said so. this caught you and thanos completely off guard, but you weren’t surprised you were lashing out now; this place made everyone tense, clearly. you heard your number get called just then, talk about perfect timing, and you were able to leave the situation with the last word. but little did you know then, you would not be having the last laugh.

⋆.���࿔*:･

it was back up those never ending stairs again. one thing was for certain, you were getting an insane workout through all of this. you scoured the numbers of the crowd for dae-ho’s 388, and sure enough you found him. he was more towards the front, and you shamelessly pushed past various other contestants to get to him. you wanted to set the record straight about what you had said yesterday, the moment was on constant replay in your brain during lights out and you truly just felt awful. the look of hurt on his face would forever be imprinted in the back of your mind, even if he forgave you.

“388!” you called out, catching his attention. much to your shock, he spun around rather earnestly at the sound of your voice, to be honest you were expecting him to ignore you. “oh, hey (Y/N)! i was wondering where you were.” you were taken aback at how friendly he was being with you, as if you hadn’t made a very personal jab the other night— however unintentional it may have been. “are you alright..?” you asked, not doing much to mask the unease in your voice. he cocked his head in a confused manner, laughing almost nervously. “me? i mean i’m nervous i guess but i’d say i’m alright— i’ve got a new group of allies now so that’s good!” he nodded over to the three older men walking in front of you two. you recognized one of these men, 456, as the guy who was getting everyone through the first game. “oh, well that’s good..” you felt yourself trail off, had he completely forgotten what happened between you two at the voting? dae-ho noticed the solemn expression now decorating your face. “are you alright?”

“i don’t know..” you inadvertently avoided eye contact as you all began to make your way through a series of doors. “i feel awful about yesterday.. i really don’t know why i said that.” you confessed. you could see dae-ho mentally putting the pieces together before his eyes widened, an audible gasp of realization leaving his lips. after a moment, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “oh, don’t worry about that! i know you didn’t mean anything by it—“ he laughed, patting your back. “you mean your not mad at me?” your eyes lit up in an almost cartoonish manner, earning a warm smile from your friend. “of course not! i get that this place is definitely putting everyone on edge, so people won’t really act like themselves.” you were so relieved at dae-ho’s sheer level of understanding. “so… we’re cool, then?” you ask. “yeah,” dae-ho affirms, looking down at you in the same way he did after Red Light Green Light, “we’re cool.”

things were all fine and dandy, that lump of shame had gone away from your throat, you were feeling better again— you almost completely forgot that you were all about to be subject to more sick games. the crowd of people dispersed into a giant room with rainbow-sky walls and what seemed to be two large rainbow tracks on the floor. as the voice on the intercom explained the game, and detailed the fact that teams of five were required, you and dae-ho nodded to one another as if to mentally solidify being on each other’s team. “well this works out perfectly,” one of dae-ho’s newly established friends, player 390, happily concluded. “now that dae-ho’s friend is joining us, we’ve got a team already!” you were amused to be apart of their team, as they already seemed to have such a firm bond. “and here you were, worried we wouldn’t be able to form a team fast enough.” player 001 remarked, looking to player 456 who still seemed a bit uneasy. you couldn’t blame him of course, he was probably still working through some stuff mentally after his first encounter with these games.

“if we don’t end up going first,” 456 began, catching the group’s attention. “we should watch the others closely as they play.” dae-ho nodded in agreement. “yeah! we could pick up on their strategies, to give us a better chance at winning.” you all chatted amongst yourselves, coming up with a game plan (no pun intended) for what was sure to be quite the nail biter of a game. you guys almost didn’t hear the little voice that called to your attention.

“can i please join your team?”

you all turned around and were met with a short woman with very unique hair, sporting the number 222 on her jacket. she seemed almost desperate, as if having been turned down by every other group. “sorry miss, but we already have five.” 390 explained sympathetically, but 222 was persistent. “please.” she begged again, this time bringing a hand to her belly. “i’m pregnant.” if there was anything to change the game, it was that. you guys locked eyes for a moment, before you spoke up.

“you can absolutely be apart of their team!” her eyes lit up from the defeated countenance she wore a second ago. the men looked at you stunned, dae-ho especially. “it’s alright, if there’s already five i can ask someone else-“

“i won’t hear it.” you insisted, catching 222 off guard. you could tell she didn’t want to take your place, but you would feel awful if someone in her condition was to lose their life in a place like this. “you need a strong, reliable group. i can find someone else, it’s no trouble.”

“if you’re sure..” 222 said, “thank you.” you nodded, before walking off. you looked back for a brief moment, even if you died in these games, you could hold your head up knowing that you just did the right thing. however, the look of fear and concern that dae-ho was giving you didn’t fail to break your heart. you knew he was worried but you also knew that that decision needed to be made.

you roamed the area somewhat aimlessly, starting to lose hope of claiming an empty spot in one of the teams. each player you made eye contact with gave you a disgusted look before turning their backs to you. you weren’t going to lie, every time you glanced at the clock your palms got slightly more sweaty. god were you going to be eliminated before the game even began? you’re mind began to resume reeling until

“hey, did you want to join our team?”

you spun around faster than you’d care to admit, eyes widened in desperation. a cool, punk rock looking chick donning the number 380 was standing before you, head cocked in anticipation. without a question you nodded and accepted her invite, to which she simply said “sweet, follow me.”, and that you certainly did. you wondered who your new team was, surely they were a group of standup individuals— well, as standup as one could be in an establishment like this one.

all of your hopes were entirely dashed when you saw just who was apart of your team.

thanos. man you just could not escape this guy, huh. he was surprised to see you too, though more on the pleasant side than you were. “woah, we meet again señorita.” you rolled your eyes at the nickname once again, seems like you were stuck with it now. “you know this rando?” the player dubbed 124, standing suspiciously close to thanos piped up, gesturing towards you. “that’s the one i was telling you about.” thanos explained, giving his friend a side glance. “ah, the ‘playing hard to get’ girl..” 380 cleared her throat, catching these two boys off guard. “y’know it’s rude to talk about people as if they aren’t standing right there.” you were relieved that you had someone else to stand up for you here. 124 snickered. “well if it bothers her that much she can always leave—“ “no.” thanos interjected, extending an arm infront of his buddy. “she stays.” he raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way as if you were supposed to thank him for his ‘noble’ act.

just then, the timer came to an end, and all the teams were instructed to sit down in designated lines. even if you wanted to leave, it was too late. you were stuck with thanos and his weird friend. but at least 380 seemed to have your back. as the first team was getting set up you found yourself thinking about dae-ho. you hoped their team made it through, hell you actually hoped they survived more than you thought about your own survival. you had never prayed to anything, for anything in all your life. but in that moment, you prayed as hard as you could for one thing.

“dear god, not like this.”

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

AT LAST, PART 2 IS COMPLETE!! idk if i’ll do a part 3 or not, it all depends on if you guys like it! i really hope this was up to standard, and worth the wait. i pulled out the big guns for this one but part of me is worried it doesn’t make a lick of sense 😅 regardless of my lack of writer’s confidence, i truly hope you enjoyed!

have a magnificent day/night lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet @l5byrinth @chxrrybomb22 @deathsmellzz @bl4z3db4by @katscloudy

[inhogf]

Lee Byung Hun, ur teacher pt.2

part 1 here · contains: him as ur teacher, smut, p in v sex in classroom, choking, spanking, illegal age gap (reader is a student, byung hun in mid 50s) 1.5k words

“you're sleeping with mr. byung hun, are you not?“ this was practically an ongoing joke between you and your friends, all of them giggling, unable to restrain their crazed and exaggerated expressions as one of them held your test paper in their hand. it was amazing, really— going from failing most of your tests to straight A's in calculus. without a helping hand, as you'd tell them.

you wouldn't want everyone to know you were slutting yourself out to your teacher for bonus marks, would you?

were you doing that only for some extra credit?

the classroom was fairly quiet in a bit, save for the sound of mr. byung hun's marker gliding across the whiteboard. he was halfway through solving a complicated integral when your friend passed you a note: ’correct him so we know y'all arent having sex. xoxo ♡’. it made you snicker at her, before you raised your hand.

“uhm, mr. byung hun, you totally messed that up,” you said, tone dripping with feigned condescension. you leaned back in your chair, arms crossed. you were always a little rebel, weren't you? how could byung hun forget? “you forgot to distribute the negative. kind of embarrassing for a teacher.”

oh you were bold. you caught him off-gaurd. he never would've known you'd act like such a brat after he only fucked you once; it amused him to say the least. you enjoyed riling him up, taunting him despite his frustrated grumbles and groans and the obvious bulge in his pants. he'll roll his eyes at you; something the class caught on to; attempting to hold himself back from admiring and touching your adorable body.

“let's see, shall we?“ he exhaled, stepping aside to rework the equation. the room grew tense as he went through each step on the board, taking his sweet, sweet, time.

“ah, turns out, i didn't forget anything. you, however, overlooked the substitution rule. this part," he'd say, unfazed as a subtle smile crept up his lips, circling the equation. "—is where you went wrong."

the class stirred with soft gasps and muffled laughter. byung hun paused, walking up to face you, before crossing his arms. your cheeks were burning up. not because of the embarrassment, no— but because of byung hun. he'd punish you. you made him thrilled.

“detention after school for you, stay in my class afterwards. feel free to brush up on substitution rules while you’re at it, you'll need them for the test next week.“

you were a brat begging to be tamed; but byung hun had self-control, able to hold himself back from re-enacting his fantasies onto you right in front of all his students. the hunger that festered in the pit of his stomach, beating with an erratic pulse and growing in restlessness. he has to push back the hanging reminder that he was hard, dick pressed against his suit trousers with a leaky tip. you'd think he'd have a hard time getting his dick up, his aging evident from the way the corners of his eyes crinkle every time he smiled— but no, all it took was you teasing him in front of his class.

it wasn't long before byung hun's hands slid down to your ass as the last of his students left the class, pulling you flush up against him, the raw intensity of his emotions— the restraint he had let go of, the vulnerability he now laid bare.

“you know what you were fuckin’ doing to me back there, yeah?“ he wasted zero time in shifting his belt open, tugging a finger to the waistband of his boxers as he fumbled his dick out; making it spring up and slap against his abdomen before taking his shirt off. anger filled his veins today, and he decided he'd needed to take this anger out into someone. more specifically, you. “you need to be punished.“

you don't mind. your gaze was smitten to his contoured body— his chiseled chest, huge shoulders that are the perfect leverage, his.. huge dick; so so perfect for his age. was he on steroids? that's insane. byung hun kept himself somewhat shaven, as you noticed. he doesn't have a lot of hair, but he has a trail of black hair running up his sturdy abdomen, as well as around his crotch. pretty little thing, you'd think to yourself before your teacher snapped you out of your thoughts.

“up, baby,“ byung hun said oh so hushed, pulling you up by your ass and bending you over on his desk— pages of assignments flying everywhere. his fingers would rub against the wet patch of your panties, tracing your folds and oggling at them. practically drooling as he tore your panties off. he spread your soft folds with such expertise while looking between your eyes and your pussy, begging to push inside. it made you wonder, how many women had he fucked before? did he even have a wife? kids?

his thick cock sat stiff in front of your pussy, tip so red and garbles of pre-cum drooled at the sight of your bare pussy spread out for him. it's hard to get used to the feeling of being pried open and split apart by byung hun, the splitting sensation of his boner being pushed into you. his hands would wander all over your bare, naked skin. so so so greedy. he wanted to have you whole; not knowing where to touch your body next. he pushed deep into your slit and let out breathless, guttural groans. taking him was painful, the sheer length of him foreign to your organs. you've only ever had sex with, what, two men? and both their dicks were tiny.

“i'm risking going to jail for you, slut..“ he snapped his hips forward, a gasp escaping your puffy lips as he bottomed out in the first thrust. byung hun held a finger to your bottom lip, before the hand trailed down your chin and grabbed onto your neck from behind, pressing it to restrict your airflow. it was such a tight, snug fit. it had you squirming. he left zero spaces open to waste inside your pussy. no holes for even air to fucking enter. your pussy was stretched to the max by his big fucking cock, your juices dripping down your thighs to the wood of his desk, wetting them. “so good, daddy..“

each thrust he made with his hips caused a grunt to slip from his throat. he huffs, groans out at the sensation against his covered bulge. “you're a needy thing, you know that?” he chuckles when he sees your fucked-out eyes, beyond desperation as your orgasm pools at your sweet cunt, desperate for release.

“s-so big-!“ you’re a whore, a blubbering mess, both legs hooked around his hammering hips whilst your arms kept a tight grip on his burly shoulders. you whine, mouth open as moans and ‘more's’ pour from it. his dick continues rutting into you, splitting your pussy apart in such an animalistic way it had you seeing stars— a pool of steam gathering down at your lower abdomen.

you were certain an orgasm on the brink edge of releasing was close, but when he spanks your ass as punishment, all it did was make him even hotter. “자기야 [baby].. you take my cock so well, but can't handle a slap? you need a roughening up, my dear...“

and the way his accent turns more prominent against your ear and his hot breath against your neck, it was all too much for a dumb, crying thing like you— unable to control the way your pussy uncontrollably clutches onto him, forcing him to shoot his potent, hot load of inside your puffy hole.

“i'm gonna.. fuck— i'm cumming..“ byung hun said as his pretty eyes grew half-lidded, strands of sweaty hair falling to his forehead as he shut his eyes completely, ropes of thick cum squirting from his still-swollen tip as he pumps you full. so full in fact, that he's actually pumping his cum out of you because you’re overflowing with his seed.

and once byung hun was done fucking a brain-numbing orgasm out of you, and fucked his own deep into your womb, he'd settle you down on his chair, your head lolled to the side as he finished slipping his softening dick back into his boxers— his eyes admiring your pretty state. you were so adorable like this.

his phone would ring as he fixed his tie, the contact reading ’Principal’ as you giggled to yourself— you knew he was in trouble all because of you. ♡

cr @inhogf dont steal

[hypnzo]

Hello! First of all, i hope you are having or had a good day <3

I really like your writing! So I was wondering if I can do a request for a fic with the reader being the daughter of Hypnos and comforting/helping Percy with his nightmares?

It could be of the two of them in an established relationship or that, to comfort him, she confesses her feelings/Percy admitting his feelings for her since the nightmares make him afraid of losing her?

If you can't or don't feel comfortable that's fine, tysm 💞

Embodiment of Comfort

Percy Jackson x Hypnos cabin!Reader (Gender-Neutral)

Warning !! English is not my first language, there might be so mischaracterizations.

Note: I'm not exactly so proud of this work, I was really tired when making this, so I apologize for its bad writing...

You've been friends with Percy for quite a while now. Your friendship started around his first week in camp, but you didn't expect anything from it.

That was until you realized how you've been silently gushing over him, the son of Poseidon—Percy Jackson—a name that everyone around the camp knew and admired.

You couldn't blame them though—black hair, tanned skin, toned body, great personality, kind of a dork, what's there to not admire?

However, being a child of Hypnos meant nothing to you. It felt really dull... Mostly because everyone just seems to know you as someone that sleeps all day and has nothing to contribute unless "sleep" was the talk.

If you were being honest, the thought alone made you feel even more disappointed knowing your childhood crush was simply just out of your league.

“...Gods, I hate that guy.” you murmured against your pillow. To be real, you didn't really hate Percy—maybe you did, but only since he's been an annoying buzz in your head all day long.

Maybe a part of it was your fault, but you'd defend yourself and say that at least more than half of it was his fault.

“He doesn't even have to be all that charming... Those black hair, sea-green eyes...” you paused, hugging your pillow, looking afar bit too starstruck before you began once more, “especially those sea-green eyes.”

As you were zoning out on your bed, you heard a voice cut through your thoughts—a voice that was, unfortunately, familiar. “Sleepy?”

Shit.

You blinked, averting your gaze towards him while your mind panicked and you swore you've said every cuss words known to man.

It wasn't intentional—genuinely, you felt like an idiot saying those words out loud—you felt even more stupid, knowing that you've completely forgotten that Percy was here all along.

“Percy, uh...” you started, but now you wished you could go back in time for a few seconds so you were able to just shut yourself up.

He looked sleepy, his voice sounded groggy as well, however his grin seems to just strengthen against the pillow he was snuggling with.

“So, I take it you have a crush on someone?”

“No!”

“Right, right.” he says, adjusting his position to lay on his back like a starfish, staring at the ceiling of the bunk bed. “You hate the guy. Got it.”

“Shut up.”

“Will do.” he says, motioning a ziplock on his mouth, but the cheeky, almost smug-like grin that was plastered on his face never faltered on his lips one bit.

After a few moments of silence, he motions to be unlocking the imaginary ziplock on his mouth, his hands finding his own hair while his eyes remain shut.

“What now?”

“Soo... thank you.”

“Huh?”

“For your service.” he joked once more, only to receive an unimpressed glance from you which made him shut up. At least for a moment...

“No seriously,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow as he glanced up at you, “thanks...”

“If I'm going to be real honest with you, sleep has never come easy for me. Especially during my first week in camp.”

You blinked, remaining the silence you've stilled, letting him pour out his words while his gaze would often shift from one furniture to another.

“I just want to thank you for just.. being there,” he sighed, “If I'm being real with you, sleepy,” he murmured before he continued, “nightmares have been gnawing at me left and right.”

“And really, your comfort—no, your presence alone has helped me. I don't know if you even realize it, but you feel like comfort itself, as though the very essence of it was mused after you.”

“What are you saying?” you felt your breath hitch at his words.

He paused, looking for any uncertainty in your eyes. Despite his shaky nerves, he looked into your eyes, letting out a breath that he didn't even realize he was holding.

“...I like you.”

...

“Was that too forward?” he chuckled lightly though his laugh felt breathless as if he was just as nervous as you were about the whole situation.

“Sleepy?”

“Sorry, sorry, uh,” you snapped out of your focus, however your words couldn't get itself out of your throat like it was stuck there.

Despite his panicking nerves, he patted you on the back as if to help and ground you on what was happening. “Relax, it's just me.” he chuckled lightly.

“Do you really mean that?”

“That I like you? Of course I do. Why wouldn't I mean it?”

You didn't know how to begin your words, the only sensation you could feel was the way your palms start to form its cold sweat. “I like you too, Percy. Might I now add that I have been crushing on you for quite some time now as well?” you uttered out sheepishly.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you smiled, “I mean it—like for real. You're like one of the coolest person I've ever met and you don't even have to try.” you say, feeling his hand tangle in yours.

“I try really hard, actually.” he chuckled lightly, brushing his hands against your hair, tucking it in behind your ear before he pressed a quick, kiss on your cheek.

Hesitantly, you held his face in your palm, feeling him lean onto your touch as he tops his hand over yours while his thumb skimmed through your knuckle.

“Thank you, sleepy.”

“You don't have to thank me for anything.” you leaned in with a smile to draw a peck on his nose.

Have a request? Feel free to send one in!

[kingdomofbellows]

No. No stop it. Don’t. Don’t look at her like that. You’re not allowed to look at her like that!

Irene’s heart twists in her chest, eyes stinging as he just…gazes at her with that fondness. He wasn’t allowed. He’s supposed to hate her. Be disappointed in her. Mad at her. Look at her with the same cruel indifference that space has for human life. Don’t look at her like a parent noticing similarities of themselves in their child. You’re not allowed. You’re especially not allowed to sound…human. To have human struggles. You’re god. You do like god things that you don’t regret because you’re all knowing and it’s all part of your master plan.

The plan. The grand plan that she had heard repeated to her over and over and over again. The same grand plan that she swore she’d be rebelling against until she was dragged kicking and screaming to her grave. The same plan that took her mother, excused her father’s abuse, and kept Willow on the edge of death.

But this didn’t sound like he had a plan, and she wasn’t sure if it made it better or worse. Regardless, her anger had faded and now she just felt an overwhelming sorrow. Her eyes sting with threatened tears and she grimaces.

She manages to summon a snarky smile for Vox though, reaching down the front of her shirt where she had hidden the ring.

“Dang, I was really looking forward to making you dance like a goober.” She attempts to joke, securing her fingers around the ring and slowly pulling it out. “I…no..If I wasn’t going to give it to him, I had planned to destroy it somehow. No one needs that kind of power.”

She walks to Eli, keeping her fingers clenched so tight around the ring that she could feel it pressing a painful indent into her palm as she rests her fist on top of his hand. She hesitated for a moment, her other hand coming to curl around his wrist.

“You…did love us once, didn’t you? We weren’t always…failures and abominations in your eyes…right? Once upon a time at least.” Came her soft murmur. Regardless of his answer, she’d open her palm and drop the ring into it.

“Now…please. Help him.”

Irene would shoot Vox a look before her eyes drop, letting her arm drop to her side. She’d hurt herself if she wanted to thank you. Just turned out she didn’t currently want to. Instead she was running on barely any sleep, self sacrificing to a suicidal degree thoughts, and an Oreo, and she was ready to kill God or become him.

“I’m not sure Lu is going to want to remember.” She’d murmur to Vox. “It might just hurt him knowing daddy only cared for a brief second before he fucks off into the nether again..I know it’s his choice but…”

A thought occurs to her and her eyes snap towards Eli.

“What’s the catch? This is all rather convenient that you suddenly come back and all of a sudden are sooooo concerned about your son even though you KNEW it was all happening. You reek of absent father wanting money so what is it? You want us to throw ourselves at your feet and suck your ass with praise on how magnificent and wonderful you are? That truly, everyone’s favorite sky daddy is an awesome God like my sister is convinced you are? You want something and I don’t believe for a single fucking second it’s cause you’re worried about Lucifer being on his deathbed.”

@burningfeathersx

[aunteutis]

TLDR;; my personal Severance theory for what the hell is Lumon's deal. it's a cult, but with great benefits (plus dental!). also, the MDR Orientation Booklet! yay!

hi, so,,,, hyperfixation time:::

the Severance Reddit guys (they're the real heroes and we're all a family here at Lumon) said there was something called the 'Lexington Letter' - it's sort of a proof of concept letter/story for Severance's worldbuilding, probably more intended for the studio rather than audiences at first, apparently published as promo later.

SPOILER WARNING HERE, just this once.

so i read it all, and the letter in itself has some elements of the base/what i guess is the original story: car accidents, severing because of depression, Lumon appearing misteriously, innie-outie communication, people following people. it's written as an exposé on Lumon, sent to a small newspaper in hopes they will publish it. it's very interesting (and another piece of media to obsess over), so i'll leave the link here in case you want to read it:

the thing is:: this letter includes a copy of the Orientation Booklet, and it explains the refining process as if the readers were innies.

it goes on about the process, but it defines the data to refine as part of four different categories: WO, FC, DR and MA.

each of these categories ellicits the following emotional responses that we are told about during the show:

WO=melancholy

FR=joy

DR=fear

MA=rage

NOW::: i'm probably not the first to notice this, so please chime in if you did. but i think each of these categories corresponds to each of the four Tempers that Kier believed to conform every human soul/personality. those being WOE, FROLIC, DREAD and MALICE.

so the (human) refiners are !!instinctively!!!! classifying numbers that correspond to each type of the four Tempers that their biotech-founder (and presumably god) believed to make humans, well, human. and every time they put the numbers in each bin, the bin shows a progress report defining how much of each of the four categories there is already. much like the 'balance' between tempers Kier talked about.

small interruption here (i promise it'll be relevant later): in the Lexington Letter, three things are mentioned that stood out to me. first, the letter itself tells about the explosion of a truck of Lumon's business rival, Dorner Therapeutics. the accident kills 6 people, and the explosion is triggered barely two minutes after one of the files has been fully refined. so -at least according to the original show's plan- the refining process is an actual thing with a tangible function. it actually IS encrypted data that they're looking at all day.

the second thing was very brief: some sort of controversy regarding Lumon's feeding tubes that had caused a libel suit (by Lumon) that made another small paper go bankrupt. it's mentioned as a deterrent, and the Lexington Letter is not published.

third (last one, i promise):: Peg, who writes the letter, says at one point that a Lumon employment ad came up on the radio just as she said, alone in her car, 'Fuck this job' (her former job). as if it heard her, basically.

so, end of interruption. bringing me back to::: THE THEORY.

we have the Four Tempers; Lumon, a biotech/generally huge everything-corporation with (according to Devon) influence everywhere; and at the center of it all, Kier, who is effectively a messianic figure.

we have the Gemma reveal (Mark says in s2ep2 that he identified the body, so there WAS a body).

then there's Ms Cobel/Sigwell's shrine and //feeding?// tube, with the name Charlotte Cobel on it, and an apparent lore-compliant, unknown controversy to go with it.

finally, we also have a fuckton of encrypted data that:: a) needs refining b) actually serves a purpose in the real world c) we are very briefly shown that the file's progess is related to Gemma (dead, but also alive, personality-lacking, and in the experimental floor) and, presumably, other people. and goats.

i don't really know the purpose of it, but i think they might be sequencing the human genome and personalities of everyone //related to Lumon//? to like. make replica people??

like,,, sure, maybe they want Mark specifically to chill forever with his not-so-dead-anymore clone of a wife, but it IS a biotech company that plays god with life and death, and HAS a god like in their company policy. they have legends, and paintings, and rites, and scripture, and mysteries.

like. Lumon is -BY DESIGN- THE ultimate intersection between a literal religion and corporate loyalty/devotion that plagues and defines the current job market paradigm. the work is mysterious and important, and the company provides or punishes as an absolute and final entity. Kier is all-knowing father, overseeing judge, the origin and ultimate motive for everything. you don't even need to exit the Lumon product ecosystem to live, because they're already everywhere outside. hell, they've existed from the beginning of the only history you need to care about--late industrialism!! the rise of the market economy!! wouldn't it make sense for them to give you a solution to the final problem of death as well?

so, my current theory (To Be Forgotten Tomorrow) is that they are trying to deliver on that promise that every religion out there gives. they're ending the finality of death, and making people again. not just physically; they are literally bringing back complete reproductions of people, body and soul. they use the severeds' intuitions (and probably some sort of conditioning in their chips) to estimate the precise balance of tempers that make up distinct human personalities, just as Kier said.

because think of Ms Cobel, or Mark. for me, they are the most extreme cases. if you had lost, say, your wife. or your mother, or daughter. the person you loved the most, dead. and if a family company that you've seen everywhere, and known all your life, stepped in and told you they'd be able to rid you of the pain. or bring them back. if they told you that if you're loyal enough, blindly trust them with your own agency, they'll make everything right - wouldn't you take them up on that offer?

and now that's out of my head yaaayy. sorry for the long thing. i hope at least the letter and manual helped.

if you read all that, congrats! you've been awarded a fingertrap.

kiers!!! (as in 'cheers'. like. you get it, right? right.)

❤️❤️❤️

[odearly]

without me? - halsey

⟡ summary: Being a fairly well known K-pop idol was difficult, especially when you're hiding a consuming drug problem. A drug problem you and su-bong shared, and after an article gets made about your habits your entire career comes crashing down. Su-bong leaves you in the dust to avoid getting caught in the crossfire of Korean media, but when you meet again in the squid games can you really trust him to be on your side even now?

⟡ warnings: angst, drugs, no happy ending.... unless, typical squid game violence

You were a star, destined for greatness when Korean tabloids shot you out of the sky. Your boyfriend, su-bong who had achieved a rap career after you openly promoted him to your record deal and fans did nothing to try and support you after your scandal.

"I can't be seen with you anymore! What if they try to drug test me too?" Su-bong said, arguing with you after having to have a meeting about letting you go from the album they were making together.

"Really? Really Su-bong? You're kicking me to the curb after everything we've been through?" You were angry, rightfully so.. you just watched all of your income slowly get drained out of your account with lawsuits from brand deals saying you 'ruined their image'.

"You're being selfish! I can't ruin my career over your dumb decisions!" Su-bong argued back, he had a tone that did nothing but break your heart and you didn't know how to handle this loss aswell as the loss of your career.

"MY dumb decisions? Are you fucking kidding me Su-bong? You're as much of a drug addict as me!" You snapped back, venom lacing your tone from complete anger, shame and hurt from this argument.

"I'm not getting caught like you though am I?" He asked, raising his eyebrows in question. He really didn't care.. or atleast thats how it seems.

You shook your head with a scoff, walking off to the shared bedroom they have. You grabbed one of the Prada duffel bags he'd bought you years ago for one of your birthdays, shoving as many clothes as you can fit into the bag and putting it over her shoulder. You gave him one last chance to say he didn't mean it, looking at him for a moment in silence. Your eyes looked like they were about to well up in tears but you blinked them back, Su-bong stayed silent. He didn't utter a word as you walk out the door, watching you drive away in his Cadillac to one of your high school friend's houses.

now here you were, laying in the shitty bunk beds that were provided for each of the contestants of these fucked up games. desperately craving a pill, needing a release from your mind begging your thoughts to stop for even a moment. your thoughts wont stop, they wouldn't after watching nearly a hundred people die in a game of red light, green light.

you sat up in the uncomfortable bed giving the room a small once over as you notice a mop of purple joking around with a shoulder length black haired man in the corner. you couldn't believe your eyes.. why was he here too? was he in debt? a million questions came to her mind before the biggest one... did he have pills?

you were staring so long you didn't even notice the black haired man that was sitting beside him pointing a questioning finger at you, causing su-bong to lock eyes with you.

as soon as he saw you the color drained from his face, worry immediately washing over him as she turned around and tried to put together his thoughts.

it was only a couple minutes later before he pulled himself up and walked over to your bunk.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his tone sounding angry with a hint of worry.

"Why do you care?" You snapped back with a sting of a million bees. If looks could kill, the glare you were sending through his soul could certainly knock him out at least.

"What the hell do you mean? You can't be here, its not safe!" Su-bong exclaimed slightly slurring his words as he spoke, his voice was all too familiar when he got upset and high like this.

You looked at his eyes, looking at the dilated new moons in his eyes. He was still on drugs, that much was certain.

"Obviously i'm here for money, i'm not really finding jobs out there with multiple lawsuits i can't afford to pay for." you snark back sharply, scoffing in disbelief at his audacity.

Your words sobered him up, reminding him of the outside world and what he had waiting for him aswell.. debts and his own suffering after you were gone.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed in frustration that he'd now be competing against you. "Listen.. okay.. I'm sorry for how things went down between us but you need to stick by me. I'll get us out!"

You stayed silent for a moment, almost genuinely considering his offer but you couldn't trust him anymore. His word meant nothing after he abandoned you when you needed him.

"I don't need your help or your pity, su-bong. Go find another girl to prey on for their fame this time." You turned around in your bed, officially ending the conversation with him.

You heard him scoff and the tip tapping of his shoes as he walked off. You didn't understand why he wanted to be so protective now when he certainly didn't feel like protecting you before.

The night came quickly after voting you had voted stay because the current 9.1 billion won split between over 300 players wouldn't fix the issues you came here to solve. Dinner passed by in a blur and Su-bong didn't try to speak to you for the rest of the day.

When the lights went out you tried to sleep but your restlessness was not aided by the stiffness of the bed or the thought of possibly dying tomorrow in the next game. You did eventually fall asleep though, after your thoughts got too exhausting and you finally felt your eyes getting heavy.. bracing yourself for the moment you wake up and have to play another game.

a-n: first time posting one of my stories lmk if u like it. this song is literally so him coded!! next chapter will be more fluffy 🫡

[little-riddles]

mad as hatter | one

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader word count: 5.2k warnings: none

y/n wasn't sure when she had her first visions, she'd had them as far back as she could remember. the echoes of voices from all those around her to the flashes of memories she wished she could forget. her parents thought the girl was going crazy, that their daughter was just making things up and eavesdropping on their conversations. She was shunned and shushed whenever she tried to ask questions about her odd dreams or the words that no one else was hearing.

she'd heard every hurtful comment before they even left people's mouths, seen the atrocious things people envisioned as they walked past her. no one believed she wasn't just a no-good nosy child. kids in school would call her psycho, hearing her mumble under her breath in class, and often stare off with a dazed look in her eyes. doctors have tried to get her on every medication possible but nothing helped numb the visions or silence the voices in her head.

she only had one person who ever tried to believe her growing up. there was a boy who lived down the road from her, who often would be sitting by himself in the school canteen. the pair were never officially friends, only ever sitting with one another, but were as close as either of them came to having a real friend.

y/n never learned the boy's name, having only interacted by talking about the school bully who would harass the pair. the pair weren't even in the same year, only really seeing each other during class breaks. so, when her parents decided to move the entire family up north once y/n had left primary school, she was not the least bit upset. sure, she was losing the only friend she'd ever made, but she knew she'd be long forgotten soon.

the thompsons weren't your typical family, both parents worked for the government and often spent the whole day out of the house. they would go on work trips for up to a week at a time, leaving their children to look after themselves. they had to learn how to take care of themselves from a young age, each taking up a role in the household; hughie was in charge of the outside of the house, ensuring none of the neighbours would know they were home alone; ned took care of their finances, ensuring all the bills were always paid and everyone had enough money for food; alex and y/n split the roles of cooking and cleaning the house, only allowing the other to ever try to go anywhere near the stove after the ramen incident with poor ricky, who was in charge of charming all of the nosy aunties who liked to pop round and nose around in their business.

this was how it wasn't a surprise when y/n's hogwarts letter sat unopened for months after they arrived, catching dust in their parents' bedroom along with the other unimportant post. it was only when an enthusiastic hughie came running into the kitchen one late july morning with a bundle of letters that the siblings took notice of the increase in post.

"what you got there hugh?" y/n nodded to the pile of old-looking letters on the dining room table.

"letters." hughie stuck his tongue out to the blonde girl. "they're all addressed to you, y/n."

"really? all, what, thirty of them?" alex scoffed as she entered the kitchen with a sleepy Ricky on her back.

"yeah. see, here. it says 'miss y/n y/l/n, the bigger bedroom in the loft, 3 whiteditch lane.' it even knows which room you're in y/n!" hughie shoved one of the letters into his sister's face.

y/n grabbed the letter addressed to herself, smirking at the words written on the front, knowing she did in fact have the bigger bedroom on the first floor. turning it over she was shocked to find a real wax seal instead of the usual paper closing. whoever had sent these letters to her was ancient, she thought.

"the bloody hell is hogwarts?" alex scoffed, using the kitchen knife y/n had just cleaned to rip open one of the letters. "oh, this has got to be some weird joke."

"what does it say?" ricky tried to peek over her sister's shoulder.

"'dear miss y/l/n , we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry."' y/n read out loud for the siblings to hear, not quite believing what she was reading either.

"what a load of bullshit." hughie scoffed, pouring a glass of juice for himself and ricky.

"language, hubert!" alex smacked him upside the head.

"he's right." ned appeared in the door frame. "there's no way that's real. If so, why hasn't one of us gotten a letter as well?"

y/n was speechless, letting her brother's words sink in. why was it only her who had received these mysterious letters? what was so special about the girl compared to everyone else?

"well, it's no use thinking about anyway. there's no return address and you've missed the date to send them a response." alex shrugged, chucking the opened letter into the recycling along with all the others on the table.

y/n watched as all her siblings sat around the dining room table, dishing out the food she'd just finished making. she couldn't help but feel like they were wrong about the letters. something had clicked in her brain and felt like things were starting to fall into place as she opened it. all of the voices in her head were starting to say the same thing for once, instead of the usual rambling mess that only seemed to disappear around her siblings. she felt like a part of her that had been missing her whole life was finally complete.

"you should forget about those letters, y/n/n. they're a load of nonsense. probably just a prank from billy down the road." ned walked over with a plate of food for the blonde.

"yeh. you're probably right." she smiled falsely, joining her siblings at the table.

"like magic could be real." hughie scoffed, already helping himself to seconds of the pasta.

—————

it wouldn't be until three days later that the siblings were proved wrong as their front door was once again stuffed with triple the number of letters through their letterbox. looking out his bedroom window, hughie gawped as he spotted at least twenty owls sitting on their fence. he'd never seen such behaviour from the animals before, worrying that it was a sort of premonition.

"lexie! you might wanna come see this!" he called out to his oldest sister.

"what do you want?" alex rolled her eyes, not looking up from the book she was reading. "this better not be another one of you and ricky's pranks again."

"it's not. look!" hughie fully opened the curtains, stepping back as two owls flew directly onto the window ledge.

"so? it's just some birds." alex rolled her eyes, walking out of the room.

"it's not just some birds. it's a fucking tonne of them!" hughie tried to protest.

"language, hubert!" ned's voice could be heard from the other side of the house.

hughie could only roll his eyes like his sister, following her out into the hallway. "if you'd actually pay attention to anything other than that bloody book, you'd see i'm not exaggerating."

alex stopped at the top of the stairs, finally looking up from her book. at least fifteen owls were sat in their front garden, all having their eyes trained on the y/l/n house and a familiar letter in each of their beaks.

"uh. y/n! you mind coming downstairs?!" alex shouted, walking into the living room and stopping at the pile of letters stacked high in their front hall.

y/n ran down with ricky and ned following not far behind her. she looked around confused as the owls all began to land on the window ledges. "uh. why are there owls in our garden?"

"i have no idea. but I'm a little scared for when mum and dad get back later." ned started to close the blinds, nodding to the pile by the front door. "i think you have some post, y/n."

"yeh," y/n whispered, walking to the last open window and spotting a couple standing at the end of their drive in unusual clothing.

she drew the curtains without breaking eye contact with the snowy owl that hooted by the window. her siblings were all stood at the base of the staircase, mumbling to one another. y/n could feel their eyes as they all glanced over at her, then at the pile of letters, then back at her once again.

"look. this can't be some weird joke again." y/n finally ended their constant mumbling.

"you can't be serious, y/n." ned scoffed. "there's no such thing as magic or witches or wizards."

"but what if there is? what if somehow this is all real?" y/n tried to argue with her brother.

"oh come off it, y/n." It was hughie who scoffed this time, walking towards the pile of letters. "if magic is real then how come you've never done any, huh?"

y/n didn't know how to answer her brother, trying to remember a time when something had happened without her trying to. the day when it had randomly started torrentially raining after y/n had thrown a tantrum and refused to go to their aunt's house came to mind. or the time when she had fallen from the tall oak tree in their back garden and landed unscathed on her two feet. or the time her parents' cars both suspiciously had flat tyres and weren't able to go to an important meeting on her birthday last year. had it all been just a coincidence? or had she been the reason behind all the strange happenings surrounding her?

she couldn't put another word in before their doorbell went, silencing and stilling the room. no one dared move towards the front hallway. they weren't expecting anyone, their parents had keys to the front doors. y/n moved towards the door, stopping as it slammed open with a blinding light.

"oh, not again!" a voice groaned from outside of the house, walking through the now open hole in the front hall. "sorry about that, dears. not used to these muggle doors."

"what's a muggle?" ricky's small voice asked from behind her siblings, who'd all huddled once again at the base of the stairs.

"oh, now that you're not supposed to know." the woman chuckled to herself, dusting off her odd green robes.

"i'm sorry but who are you? and why have you broken into our house?" ned stood firmly in front of his siblings, arms out protectively.

"oh, how rude of me. my name's minerva mcgonagall, professor of charms at hogwarts." the woman tipped her head slightly, her pointed hat staying perfectly upright.

"oh, not this again," alex grumbled. "look. whatever joke this is, it's gone too far. get out before we call the police."

"well, i know you are not who i am here for then," mcgonagall mumbled under her breath. "i am here on behalf of professor dumbledore. he wanted me to personally guide miss y/l/n to gather her supplies for the year."

"you're not taking our sister anywhere." hughie pulled his sister closer to him.

"i did not expect so much push back on this. but if this is what it'll take for you to believe me." mcgonagall shrugged her shoulders, taking out a wooden stick from the sleeves of her emerald robes and pointing it at the empty fireplace.

it sparked to life into a roaring fire, the stack of letters left scattered by the front door flying into the open flames. one sole letter remained unscathed, landing in the professor's hand.

"h-how did you do that?" ricky's head appeared from behind her sister, wonder glowing in her blue eyes.

"magic, of course." mcgonagall tilted her head at the siblings. "did your parents not tell you any of this?"

"o-our parents aren't magic. they work for the government." hughie, too, was still staring at the burning ashes of the letters.

"what about your grandmother?" mcgonagall pulled out a scroll from her robes, reading the name of the family's closest magical relative. "a hilda kim. she must have told you something, yes?"

"nana kim's dead. uncle roger killed her." ricky spoke before she could think.

"frederica!" ned shoved his youngest sibling with a huff.

"sorry, neddy." ricky returned to her safe space behind alex.

"k-killed? are you sure? she's still registered as an active witch with the ministry." mcgonagall reread her list once more. "i've never had our charts be wrong."

"nana kim's alive?" alex whispered in disbelief.

"no. she's lying. we went to her funeral, remember lex?" ned refused to believe what this strange woman was saying.

"y-yeah. you helped mama write her eulogy." alex nodded, turning to the professor who was still stood bewildered in their living room.

"well. i will have to have a word with the minister himself. never in my life have i seen this be incorrect." mcgonagall tucked the scroll back into her robes.

"who was that man outside?" y/n looked back towards the professor, remembering there was another person with her.

"that was professor dumbledore himself, headmaster of hogwarts. he was seeing to it that i had the right house. you muggles and your weird house names." the professor shook her head.

"so will he be teaching me at hogwarts?" y/n's face lit up slightly at the thought of learning to do what the professor had done with the fireplace and more.

"oh no. professor dumbledore resigned from teaching a few years after your very own grandmother attended hogwarts." mcgonagall finally looked around the home spotting the clock on the wall, jumping at the time she could read. "oh. we must get going, miss y/l/n. we don't have much time to gather your supplies before everything closes."

y/n hesitantly walked forward, still staring at the still roaring fire then back at her siblings' awe-struck and perplexed faces. "how long will i be gone? my parents are coming back soon and i don't want to worry them."

"not long. i would like to have a talk with them myself when we return to explain everything anyway." mcgonagall turned her nose up at the knowledge that the children's parents had left them home alone.

"take this with you, i wrote down the house number in case you forgot." alex pulled away from the sibling huddle to rip out the house's phone number from the phone book.

"call us if you need us to come and collect you, yeah?" ned approached his youngest sister, pulling her into a tight hug. "we'll let you know if mum or dad say anything once they're back."

"thanks, neddy." y/n half smiled, still shaken up from everything that had been revealed before.

"come along, dear. we have much to do." the professor walked back towards the hole she'd made in their doorway. "oh, i almost forgot."

with a wave of the stick she had procured earlier, the door frame reconstructed itself back to the way it was before. the door even looked as though it had had a clean to it.

"there. apologies for the break-in earlier." mcgonagall walked towards the door, hesitantly turning the handle and pulling it open. "i shall see you all later."

"bye, y/n." ricky ran forward, pulling her sister into one last hug before running back up the stairs.

"we'll wait downstairs in case the phone rings whilst you're gone." ned waved his sister off, not quite trusting her safety in the hands of the stranger she was leaving with.

y/n waved her siblings off one last time before following the professor down their driveway. there stood the long-bearded man from before, carefully inspecting their neighbour's new car.

"professor dumbledore. i have miss y/n, shall we go?" mcgonagall raised her eyebrow at the man.

"ah, miss y/l/n. what a pleasure to meet you. albus dumbledore. headmaster of hogwarts." dumbledore held his hand out for the young girl to shake.

"nice to meet you too, professor." y/n shyly shook his hand.

"now, i can't come with you to diagon alley but i do look forward to seeing you at hogwarts in september, miss y/l/n." dumbledore tipped his head slightly before he disappeared with a crack.

y/n gasped in delight, amazed by the wonders of the magical world he was being exposed to. "h-how did he do that?"

"apparition, my dear. you will have plenty of time to learn all about that and more once we get you ready for hogwarts." mcgonagall took out her wand. "now, are you ready?"

y/n simply nodded her head, holding on gently to the professor's outstretched arm. she felt her body twist uncomfortably, seeing the world warp before her and in a blink she landed in an overly crowded high street.

"welcome to diagon alley. here, we will be able to find everything you'll need for your time at hogwarts." mcgonagall was already speeding ahead down towards a tall, slightly wonky building.

"but, professor, i didn't bring any money with me. how am i going to pay for anything?" y/n looked around worriedly, catching the knowing looks of passersby as they spotted the Professor walk past.

"your grandmother left some wizard money in a vault at gringotts for when any of her grandchildren came of age. seeing as you are the first of your siblings to attend hogwarts you'll have full access to the vault." mcgonagall claimed the steps up to the looming building.

"a whole vault?" y/n whispered, following the professor.

"yes. now, i'll have you stay out here whilst I go and retrieve it for you. why don't you go down to ollivander's for your wand? best to get it out of the way first." mcgonagall nodded to the black-fronted building with a swinging sign saying as such hanging out the front. "i'll be out shortly."

without another word, the professor walked through the doors and left the poor girl alone on the steps. y/n turned in a few circled before she spotted an old wooden sign with the name that the professor had mentioned before.

she felt slightly sick as she walked into the empty shop, a small pouch of coins grasped firmly in her hands. professor mcgonagall had said that this was where she could find a 'wand', though y/n wasn't sure exactly what that was or if she even wanted one. She thought back to when she'd seen the professor light the fire and repair their front door and remembers her holding a strange stick in her hand.

"ah, miss y/l/m. i knew i'd be seeing you at some point this year." an old man appeared from the aisles of boxes. "here for your wand are you?"

"y-yes." y/n meekly nodded, staring up at the man.

"i remember when your grandmother came for her first wand. 10 inch, ash wood, dragon heartstring core. very powerful witch your grandmother was." ollivander nodded, turning around and mumbling to himself as he reached for a box behind him. "now, try this one."

y/n carefully lifted the light-coloured wand from the box, feeling a stinging sensation go up her arm as soon as she lifted it. with a yelp she dropped it back into her place, shaking off the shock that still traveled up her arm.

"no. no. that won't do. let me try another." ollivander returned to the aisles, going further back before returning once more

the wand this time was a much darker colour, slightly lighter in her hands as y/n lifted it up. no sparks went up her arm this time, taking this as a good sign she gave a slight wave of it. a bust of light came out of the end of the wand, sending a stack of papers flying across the entire shop.

"not that one either." ollivander grabbed the wand out of the girl's hands, rushing back to find another choice.

y/n felt slightly deflated, questioning if the professor had been right. her mother had never mentioned anything about their grandmother since she'd passed, never saying a thing about there being a possibility of any of this being true.

"this one. this one has to be it." ollivander nodded, placing the final box down.

y/n was even more cautious, scared that being a muggle would cause the wand to backfire on her once again. her hopes were lifted as soon as she looked into the box. this wand felt different, it almost seemed to hum slightly in her hands. another shock ran through her arm, this time settling over her entire body. she felt her entire body feel like it was floating, the wand humming in tune with her mind, becoming one with her.

"fred weasley you get back here right now!" a woman's voice screeched from the doorway of the shop.

y/n dropped the wand back into its box in shock, turning and stepping back instinctively as a pair of ginger boys ran into the shop giggling.

"he's not fred, i am." the boy on the left giggled.

"honestly, you'd think you'd of learnt the difference by now." the twin on the right shook his head at the short woman who was angrily walking into the shop.

"that still doesn't mean you can run into shops as you like." the ginger woman rolled her eyes finally spotting the panicking y/n who was trying to creep out of the shop unnoticed. "oh. i'm so sorry dear for my boys interrupting you. see, this is what i mean. you two outside now!"

the twins tried to protest their mother's words, stopping at the deathly glare they received. the two trudged back out of the shop, shoving each other as they went and blaming the other for what happened.

"again, i'm sorry dear. you carry on. i'll make sure those two apologise before you're gone." the woman smiled warmly at y/n before following her sons back outside.

y/n stifled a giggle as she heard the woman's voice immediately start screeching at her sons outside the doorway, only stopping as ollivander cleared his throat. "i believe you have found your wand, miss y/l/n."

"a-are you sure?" y/n walked back over to where she'd dropped the wand in fright.

"oh, i'm most certain. 13 inch, ebony wood, thunderbird feather core. very peculiar wand but i am certain that wand was made for you." ollivander gave her a knowing look. "i think professor mcgonagall is outside waiting for you."

"y-yes." y/n nodded, carefully lifting the box off of the counter and holding it tightly to her chest. she began to walk towards the door before she realised what she'd forgotten to do. "oh, i don't have any money to pay."

"ah, miss y/l/n. there you are." mcgonagall's voice called from behind her, making the girl jump. "i believe you'll be needing this."

the professor dropped a small pouch into the girls hand, nodding her head slightly at the awaiting ollivander. y/n began to dump the coins out of her pouch onto the counter, hoping it would be enough to cover the cost of the wand.

ollivander chuckled as he sorted the coins he needed before sliding the majority of the pile back over to the girl. "you'll be needing those for the rest of your supplies i'm sure, miss y/l/n."

y/n only nodded, shocked that what she was grasping in her hands was really hers. she thanked ollivander before collecting her coins and hurrying out of the shop with the professor.

"i'd just like to apologise again for my boys' behaviour. they would also like to apologise." the ginger woman from before shoved her twins forward as y/n left the shop.

"sorry." they mumbled in sync, looking bored out of their minds.

"i-it's okay. you didn't know anyone was in there. it's fine." y/n smiled, hugging her new wand tighter to her chest.

"did you get your wand?" the one on the right gasped.

"let us see it." the twin on the left egged her on.

y/n paused, not feeling confident enough to share something so personal with the boys she'd only just met. their mother seemed to have the same idea as she smacked them upside the head. "boys! she clearly wants to leave. say you're sorry and let's go get your own wands so you can stop badgering her."

"sorry for bothering you." the twins said in sync once again, creeping the girl out slightly.

"it's okay, honestly. mistakes happen." y/n shrugged, trying to pass them to get to where professor mcgonagall was now waiting for her.

"hope to see you at hogwarts!" the first twin called over their shoulder.

"hope to not see you in slytherin!" the second twin shouted as well.

the two boys were pulled by their ears by their mother into the shop, who sent back an apologetic smile once again. y/n felt herself chuckling at their antics, turning to join mcgonagall who had already started to walk towards a new shop.

"professor, who were those boys?" she asked curiously.

"that was fred and george weasley. trouble, i'm sure of it. merlin help us all these next few years." mcgonagall muttered the last part of her sentence under her breath.

y/n giggled once more, silencing as she caught the professor's stern glare pointed down at her. she didn't dare say anything else about the boys, silently smiling at the thought of becoming friends with the pair at hogwarts.

—————

it wasn't until well past four in the afternoon that y/n and the professor returned to the y/l/n souse. two silver cars sat parked in the drive, a sign both of her parents had returned early from their trip. y/n rubbed her hands against her trousers nervously. what would her parents say when she returned? would they even believe anything professor mcgonagall said? or would it take more fireplaces being lit for them to trust the woman? she had no time to consider her options of escaping before the large oak door swung open to reveal the worried face of her mother.

"oh, y/f/n. i was so worried." nancy held her daughter tight to her chest, glaring over at the woman who had arrived with her. "who do you think you are to kidnap my child?"

"mum, it's fine. professor mcgonagall will explain everything inside." y/n tried to ignore her mother's use of her full name and ushered her inside.

"no. It's not right, y/n. get out of this house before i call the police." nancy shoved y/n inside of the house.

"mum! just listen to her. please!" y/n begged her mother.

"maybe we should listen to her, nance." robert tried to argue with his wife, reeling back at her hard glare.

"i'd like some answers." ned shrugged his shoulders, startling the group at his sudden appearance. "it'd be nice to know where our sister is being carted off to in a month."

"she' is being carted off nowhere's not being carted off anywhere!" nancy's protest fell on deaf ears and robert and ned welcomed the witch into their house.

y/n didn't look back at her mother, instead following her brother into the living room. her siblings were huddled on one of the sofas beside the still-roaring fire. they all sprang up at the sight of y/n, the youngest pulling her into a tight hug and running her ear off with questions about everything she'd seen.

"frederica, let go of your sister and sit down." robert gave his youngest a stern flare before offering a seat doe mcgonagall to sit. "now. tell us where you kidnapped our daughter to."

"i wouldn't call it kidnapping. i simply offered to take her to diagon alley and gather her school supplies." mcgonagall assumed that the children had already filled their parents in on the main things. "i have everything you will need here for taking her to king's cross on september the first."

she slid over another parchment letter, sighing as she finally saw the deathly glare she was still being dealt by mrs y/l/n. "i believe your mother had her reasons for keeping all of this a secret from you, mrs y/l/n. and i am sorry that you do not have the opportunity to go to her and ask yourself."

"did you know her? my mother?" nancy finally said.

"yes. miss abbott, as i knew her back then, was an excellent student and a brilliant witch. she was top of her class. it was such a shock to the whole teaching staff to find out she left the wizarding world after she graduated." mcgonagall looked down at her watch and sighed knowing she'd have to be back at hogwarts soon.

"does this mean that any of the others could be magic as well?" robert held his wife's hand, speaking on behalf of the shaking woman.

"we keep a very close watch on all descendants of witches and wizards for signs of magical abilities. if they had shown any they too would've received their hogwarts letters already." mcgonagall saw the three eldest siblings deflate slightly at her words. "but there is always a chance that your youngest could still be welcomed into hogwarts if she too shows the same magical capabilities as miss y/l/n."

ricky's worried expression grew brighter and more joyous by the second as mcgonagall spoke, already dreaming of her time going off to hogwarts and becoming a witch herself. y/n's face too grew into a smile at the idea of one of her siblings being able to join her.

"i do have to get back to hogwarts but if you have any questions here is the address to send letters to my office." mcgonagall pulled yet another scroll out of her robes and passed it to robert. "were there any last questions?"

y/n's mind went to the voices she'd been hearing, the visions of people she'd never met before in horrific accidents and deaths. could her 'episodes' be a part of being a witch? she didn't have time to ask the professor before her parents were ushering her through their front door. y/n couldn't leave her question unanswered and ran out through the door to the end of the driveway where professor mcgonagall had her wand out ready to leave.

"i have one!" y/n shouted after the professor before she could apparate away. "do witches and wizards often have visions of things? things that never happened to them but felt like they did? or voices in their heads of people around them?"

"what sort of visions?" mcgonagall walked quickly over to the girl.

"w-well like the time that i saved ricky from being run over by a car because i'd had a dream the night before of the exact same situation. or how i saw how my maths teacher was diagnosed with cancer weeks before it happened?" y/n felt herself becoming more and more nervous at bringing up the topic as she spoke.

"and the voices? what are they saying?" mcgonagall pressed on further.

"l-like right now you're wondering if i'm a s-seer? and something called legilimens. what do those mean professor?" y/n gulped weakly.

"i'll be in contact before you come to hogwarts, miss y/l/n. i must discuss this with dumbledore." mcgonagall turned and apparated away before peggy could ask any more questions.

she was worried she'd scared the professor away, she would tell dumbledore exactly what all of the kids at school and doctors would tell her; that she was insane.

[frozenjokes]

cubfan135 does not want to kill his mom

ao3 link tw: minor instance of suicidal ideation, this fic is rated mature on ao3 and it is violent

Cub felt each impact of his foot hitting the ground, thump, thump, thump, a beating drum to the violent storm of his own head, unable to be drowned out by music as he’d forgotten last night to charge his headphones. Stupid- wireless headphones. He never forgot, it was utter insanity to wake up in the morning and find them dead, and maybe it childish to have his world turned upside down by something so small, Cub felt childish, but-

Thump, thump, thump, the sound of his shoes on the pavement, the beating of his heart. He could feel his rib cage rattle with every shaky breath, he could hear it, he still wore his headphones out for the chance he might be able to block the sound of his brittle guilt, but it was all for nothing, and really he should have just left them at home to charge while he was on his walk. He should have waited for them to charge at least a little before going out, but he could not wait, he could not let himself stay inside any longer.

Cub stared at his shoes, he watched every footfall, was acutely aware of every sound, that his were the only footsteps on this block.

“Whoa, you wanna kill your mom? That’s fucked, man. That’s pretty crazy. You could do it though, like, you do have free will.”

Cub should have screamed, he wanted to, he was well and truly startled, but no noise left his lips. He whirled around, eyes wide and mouth gaping. He- He hadn’t said that out loud, had he-? Just in case this interaction hadn’t made him want to wither away already, the stranger behind him, standing amicably with his thumbs in his pockets, went on.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Cub squeaked, gritting his teeth against the noise and walking faster. The stranger kept pace, but always stayed behind him, never beside.

“Y’know, thinking isn’t a crime. All sorts of people want to kill their mom in horrifically gruesome ways, it happens. Intrusive thoughts, right? What’s nice about your case, is you’ll probably feel better once you’ve done it. I mean, legal complications aside..”

“I need you to stop talking to me.”

“Oh, but I love talking!”

“I’m going to call the police, I’m serious.”

The stranger scoffed, and Cub could practically hear him roll his eyes, “There are a number of reasons that’s a stupid thing to say to me, but I’ll start with the fact that I’m not real.” The following silence rang out in waves, Cub freezing where he stepped. He whipped around. No one was there. He’d never heard a second pair of footsteps.

“Made ‘jya look!”

Cub did scream this time, tripping over his legs and falling directly onto his ass, and continuing to scramble backward did not stop the stranger from looming over him.

“I’m just joking around, I’m real. You’re slow though, I just kinda walked around you in a semicircle, no fancy tricks or anything. I do have tricks if you want to see them! Maybe not now.” The stranger paused, scrutinizing Cub with narrowed eyes, “So what’s stopping you? What’s actually stopping you? Oh god, is it the Christians? I feel like it’s always that, I bet you’re Catholic, aren’t you.”

“..Lutheran. Not really practicing, but-“

“It’s all the same!” The stranger threw up his hands with a huff, head back, “Once they get their grubby little hands on you it’s over, there’s not a thing you all aren’t guilty about, drives me crazy! You’re not going to hell! You guys made that up!”

“I don’t want to kill my mom. I like my mom.”

“You do want to, I heard you talking under your breath about it, sounded pre-tty crazy.”

“Oh god.”

“What, do you think I read minds? No! You told me! If you want to kill your mom, just do it, she’s not gonna care, she’s dead, and you’ll feel a lot better!”

“I don’t want to kill my mom!”

“Isn’t that what mothers are for? Laying their lives down for their children? Y’know, if she really loved you she’d let you kill her. She’d be happy for you.”

Cub balled his fists in his hair, pulling hard enough to tear his scalp. “Shut up! Shut! Up!” He drew his knees to his forehead, he needed to die, he deserved to die, no one- no one else in the world was this bad, born bad, molded evil. Every granule of dirt and dried blood under his fingernails itched, he felt them, he felt the evidence of his sin every second of every day, the night hardly an escape, dreams stained by viscera. Picking his nails until they bled did nothing. He could not escape it.

The snap of plastic jolted him stiff, breathing hard, staring uselessly at his headphones, the band cracked cleanly in two. The stranger was gone in all but voice, which seemed to resound from every direction.

Gentle, almost kind.

“You need help, you just call for Scar, alright? I’ll be there.”

…

It was not easy to shower with a shackled wrist, but Cub made do. He’d been making do for a while now, a few months over the course of his concussion recovery, but he had long passed the point of being too sick to move. He was bored, so oftentimes he sat in the shower, letting the warm water smooth over his growing ever-longer hair. Scar had offered to cut it, he knew just as well that Cub didn’t like it long, but Cub was mad at him right now, and didn’t want to give Scar the satisfaction of being able to care for him.

Cub stared at the chain, loose between his legs in the shallow bathtub. It had long begun to rust, a result of Cub’s long and frequent showers. If the water was hot enough, the chain would hold its warmth, and Cub would get to hold it close in the absence of the tub, bathe in the fleeting sun.

For the most part, his prison was padded. There were no weapons, no sharp objects, nothing blunt that wasn’t nailed down. Cub didn’t intend on hurting himself for fun, but it would be difficult in a place like this. Scar’s intentions were to keep Cub safe from outside threats, from his own tumultuous impulses, and that was fine. Cub had enough sacrifices to keep him sated. Scar was very good to his dogs.

Dog.

Cub was the last one, for now. Scar kept dangerous pets, dangerous to others, but especially dangerous to themselves. They were animals that barked, bit, and tore, but would not let go, even when the bull they’d affixed themselves to had gorged its horns through their stomachs. Cub had a particular problem with witnesses; compulsively, he could not leave them alive, and he’d be running through the streets to gun them down if it meant securing that kill. It was a good thing that despite Cub’s vast improvements since his injuries, he still had no memory of the day it had happened. He’d have gone crazy down here, killed himself trying to escape, and Scar knew it too.

Especially unfortunate, given what Mumbo was. What Scar undoubtedly wanted with him. Cub had to wonder, if his pets did not get along, would he give up the new toy or shoot the old dog? Neither, probably. Scar was greedy, he would find a way to keep them both, even if it meant altering Cub against his will.

Mumbo.

Cub couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Maybe that was a bad sign. Maybe that meant Mumbo had in fact been present at the hit, that Cub knew it subconsciously, and still needed to hunt him down, but.. It didn’t feel that way. Cub could not place the emotion, he didn’t know why, but he needed to see Mumbo again, he needed to get out of here-

Maybe Cub was just restless. He’d never had to be contained for so long, he’d never been hurt so badly, and even with Scar doing his best, he was no healer, no doctor. Cub wondered how permanent this would be. His memory loss, his unsteady gait, the constant ringing in his ears. Scar would not keep Cub here forever, Cub probably wouldn’t even be here much longer, but it all depended on how Scar thought he was doing, if Scar was certain Cub wouldn’t immediately die upon having his freedoms reinstated.

Cub leaned back in the plastic tub, head against the rim, eyes closed. He got everything he could ever want here. Accommodations, any food or drink he requested. Any place he wished to visit, Scar would take him, or at the very least sponsor him. Cub didn’t really have any friends. They were all dead. It seemed he was on his way there as well, the cracks from old injuries already wearing him down before the severe head injury. It wouldn’t be much longer before Cub was caught off guard, and he had never known how to run. He didn’t want to live a life without a fight, without the ability to make bleed, and Scar had sustained that for him. Scar gave him everything, for figuratively nothing in return besides Cub’s allowing Scar to care for him. Scar didn’t ask for money, for sex, for company, or any other human desires.. Cub supposed he wasn’t human, so..

Cub was lonely, though. He supposed he’d always been. Maybe that’s why he was thinking about Mumbo so much? Was that why the thought of Scar seemed to grow the pit in his stomach?

Maybe he was afraid to die. He certainly wouldn’t have survived this long without Scar, scared of his own shadow, his mind, his mother.

Cub was grateful.

He did not want to leave.

Cub looked down at his hand, the shackle on his wrist, the chain spiraling off it. He lifted it, gingerly.

He smashed it against the tub floor. He did it again. Again. Again. Again, until the bones cracked.

…

Cub probably should have realized he was going to have to call Scar eventually, but he did not have the mind to puzzle out how to avoid encounters with two irritating people instead of one. Scar’s assault on his buzzing ears was going to be a trial of endurance, though, in comparison to getting a gratuitous rundown on the severity of his concussions, facing Scar was starting to sound like reprieve.

It didn't matter much in the end.

Cub’s ears were ringing, he couldn’t walk in a straight line, and he wanted to go home.

Scar was already in the waiting room when Cub stepped out of the doctor’s office, sitting next to the whiny shit who’d given Cub a ride, whose name Cub could not remember. Cub’s presence seemed to set Whiny Shit on edge, but Scar was delighted, closing his magazine and jumping up to meet him.

“Look who it is! Gawsh, pretty banged up, aren’t you? I was worried, Cubby! What’s the damage?”

“Concussion.”

“Just one?”

“..No.”

“Come on now,” Scar set his hands on his hips, eyebrows raised in a silly expression of disbelief, which might have made Cub smile if he didn’t know what he was in for during the recovery period.

“Seven.”

“Seven! Cuuuub! That’s a lot!”

“Can we go home now.”

Scar relaxed into something more sympathetic, almost sweet. Scar could be sweet, Cub had seen it, but his interests did not lie in domesticity. Cub supposed his own didn’t either, but he wasn’t immune to vulnerability, and the LEDs in this hospital waiting room were just so bright.

“Soon,” Scar said, almost a whisper, “There’s just someone I’d like to meet.”

“No!”

Cub had forgotten Whiny Shit was there, startling when the small man shot up, but Scar did not move besides putting a hand on Cub’s shoulder.

“Drawing a lot of attention to yourself, aren’t you,” Scar spoke like he was bored, like he might not have been addressing the other man at all, “Keep barking, see where it gets you. Bite, and we’ll have a party.”

The other man’s entire body twitched, almost jerking, before he sat back down. Cub thought Scar must have had something to do with it until he met the other man’s eyes, the hate so overwhelming that Cub fully believed it had taken all his self control to keep from ripping Scar to pieces.

He must know. If that was true, he probably wasn’t human either.

Cub didn’t realize he was staring until the other man’s ire snapped on him like jaws, and Cub did not know how to escape until Scar’s voice distracted them both.

“Just the man I’ve been waiting to see!”

Cub was promptly abandoned, Scar skipping over to the newest release from the doctor’s office, holding out his hand to shake.

“Call me Scar, now what can I call you? I heard you had quite the night with my good friend over there!”

“I-Mumbo?” Mumbo went from positively startled to still-very-frightened as he spotted his friend and Cub behind Scar, seeming to slowly connect the dots. “Oh.. Gosh, I’m very sorry. I think.” Out of pure awkwardness, Mumbo shook Scar’s hand, but seemed like he’d much rather be shrinking away, which, Cub knew the feeling.

“We aren’t pressing charges,” Scar smirked, to which Mumbo went back to looking terrified, “I just had to put a wild night to a name and face! Goodness gracious, you both look terrible! What’s your verdict?”

“What?” Mumbo squeaked, and Cub did not envy him.

“How many concussions?”

“Oh.” Mumbo pursed his lips, sheepish. “Five.”

“Cub!” Scar released Mumbo, turning back with his arms thrown high, “He totally beat you! I can’t believe it! You’re really getting up there in years, aren’t you,” Scar sighed, to which Cub mumbled that he was only thirty five, but Scar didn’t actually care. “Alright, alright, let’s get out of here. You need some rest, like, months worth of rest, this is gonna be a total bummer.” Scar marched forward, taking Cub’s hand as he went. “Bye Mumbo!”

Mumbo did not respond.

And it was only at this point, being dragged out the door by the hand, that Cub realized exactly what this was about. Mumbo was like him. Whether or not he knew was a mystery, but his friend certainly did. And so did Scar.

Cub frowned, closing his eyes against the thought. He couldn’t think about this right now. Everything hurt too badly.

Whatever the case, those two had one hell of a storm coming their way.

…

Cub had lived in the same house his entire life, twenty seven years, which, had been feeling like too long for a while now, but there was little he could do on that front, never able to hold down a job or even find the will to care for himself most days. He was a mess in all senses of the word, and it was a relief that his mother knew, she knew, too aware of the nature of the man she’d laid with those nights, and with the scars to prove it. She was not stupid, she knew the thing they’d created would not be easy, would not be kind, but she loved Cub still. She did not care if he stayed home for the rest of his life, if he could not provide for himself, she knew his struggle held ties more ancient than her own. His mother liked to have Cub close, and he wanted the same, to stay within distance of her arms, should he be unable to bear the world any longer.

Now she was at the bottom of the stairs, unmoving. There was so little blood, just a patch on the chipped white paint of one of the ledges, and little below her head, where her neck sat at a slightly crooked angle.

She did not look afraid. She did not look peaceful. She looked dead.

“Scar?” Cub whispered. Somehow he knew Scar would hear. Maybe he even knew that Scar was already here; it did not frighten Cub when he appeared from behind the wall to the living room, partially obscured by the dark. Cub had not spoken to Scar since they’d first met, walking along the block, but he had not stopped thinking about him. Cub had a feeling Scar knew that, too.

“She’s not dead, Cub. Not yet.” Scar’s face was obscured by the dark, but Cub saw the glint of his green eyes all the same. “You can’t save her.”

Cub did not move from his place at the top of the stairwell, the place he’d been standing for so long, stock still, unblinking. He was not afraid. He was not even upset. His focus was instead overwhelmed by that age old pull, alive and new, down the stairs, go down, but this was not a lingering thought at the back of his mind anymore. If he took that first step, he would never be able to go back.

“You don’t have to let this go to waste. You’ve done the hardest part already.”

Was that true? Cub’s mind was static, and honestly, truly, he could not remember how he got here, standing at the top of the landing, staring down at the pale form of his mother. She was so still. She looked so dead. Was Scar.. Surely he wasn’t trying to insinuate..

“Cub.” Scar cut into his thought, stepping into the low light. “You’re running out of time.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t do this!”

“Cub.”

“Scar!” Cub screamed, wailed, he did not do this, he did not push her, he never would have pushed her- This was too simple, too beautiful, Cub’s mind was too messy for this, fantasies raw and gory, he would not have pushed her-

Why was Scar here. Why was he already here.

“Cub,” and his voice was so gentle, so kind, the type of maternal tone that soothed your anxieties even if it could not quell them, the kind that talked you down, spoke to you softly, clearly, gave you room to breathe, “You don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to do anything at all.” Scar tilted his head, a small gesture. “I’ll be here.”

It was not a question, really. An offer, yes. But there was only one answer. Cub had no one else. Cub wanted no one else.

There were no more barriers.

After the first step, there was no more hesitation.

…

Cub had always experienced a numbed sense of pain, but with no adrenaline to cover it, an untreated broken wrist with a scuffed homemade cast was not. the most comfortable injury. in the world. Luckily, Scar had an extensive stash of opioids, so right now Cub had absolutely no pain and was 100% on top of the world.

He managed to knock on Mumbo’s door with his non-broken wrist, but it was a close call.

When Mumbo answered, he stared for a long time, like he’d forgotten Cub’s face. Cub did not blame him; he’d forgotten most of the details of Mumbo’s as well, but luckily the amnesia he’d been struggling with for a few months had gotten less severe over time, and remembering new information was not so much of a struggle. He wanted to remember Mumbo’s face this time, focusing on storing all the pieces.

“It’s Cub,” he said, just in case Mumbo was still having trouble, “We gave each other a bunch of concussions probably. Then had sex. Probably.”

“How. Did you find my address.” Fair question.

“Looked you up. Found it.”

“But. You don’t. You don’t even know-“

“Your name? I do now. A fake name doesn’t do much when you go by Mumbo Jumbo literally everywhere. Still a dumb name. I followed you on instagram and you should follow me back. You’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t follow me back. Would you feel better if you knew where I live?”

“Oh. Well. I don’t know. I’m finding this conversation quite disturbing. Why are you here?”

“I live at the clownvent.”

“The what?”

“The clownvent. The clown convent. They call it the clownvent. I’m not a clown though, that’s just a friend. I don’t have my own place so I live at the clownvent.”

“Are the clowns.. nuns..?”

“No. Have you not seen the clownvent before? It’s where all the circus clowns live. Right by the circus. There’s a lot of clowns.”

“Are the clowns assassins?”

“No. They’re just clowns. They live in the clownvent. I’m going to come inside now. I might cry.”

“Oh god, please don’t,” but Mumbo didn’t have a choice, Cub already pushing past him.

Mumbo’s house was a lot more normal than Cub expected, a little cramped, but in sort of a cozy way, decorations reminiscent of middle-class white women packed onto every wall and corner. Cub was judging Mumbo a little bit for that, but most of him was wondering how Mumbo could even afford a house. Did he work? Cub had just assumed he didn’t, but maybe Mumbo was more put together than Cub had been before Scar. Maybe Mumbo had a roommate. Housemate. Whatever. Why were there so many accent pillows on his couch? How were you supposed to sit with like eight tiny pillows in the way? Cub had a lot of big feelings regarding the topic, but he was a little too high to express any of this in a succinct manner, so instead he threw four of them onto the floor, tore the blanket off the arm of the couch, and bundled himself up as tight as he could manage without disturbing his wrist.

“Please get out of my house.”

“Do you have any more blankets. This one sucks. Why is your couch so hard, is it not for sitting?”

“We have more blankets, but I’m not getting you one because you’re trespassing and you need to leave. Are you on a hit or something? Did someone drug you?” Mumbo left the doorway to scrutinize Cub closer, but Cub did not like being stared at very much, so he buried his head under the flimsy awful blanket. It was probably meant to be an accent blanket, stupid accent blanket to go with his stupid accent pillows and stupid white woman decorations, this place sucked.

“I need help.”

Cub must have sounded sincere enough, since Mumbo’s face softened into an expression Cub couldn’t quite read. Not quite pity, not really concern either. Interest? Almost. Cub had to jump on this before he lost his chance, and chose his next words carefully.

“I am. Very. Very.” Cub paused, eyebrows knit. “Very.” Mumbo pursed his lips, growing tired. “High.”

“I got that.”

“I broke my wrist. I broke it bad. I had to get out, I had to come see you. Got bruises too, just threw myself against the door until the lock broke. I’ve done that before. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Do you know? Do you know what you are?”

Mumbo’s expression tensed, confusion making the edges of his lips twitch. “You were.. kidnapped?”

“Not necessi- ness- how do you- No. A little bit. Can you sit down. Too tall. My eyes hurt.”

Cub was pleased to see he had Mumbo’s attention, the other man slowly moving to sit on the opposite end of the couch. “What does this have to do with me?”

“You hurt me. We hurt each other, probably. I know why. It’s so overwhelming, isn’t it? I thought it might get better, you know, when you take a life, and it.. it’s complicated. I don’t feel remorse. I don’t regret it. I just want to go home. Are your parents still alive?”

Mumbo’s brow furrowed, eying Cub like he was afraid he’d might bite, “I grew up in the adoption system. Never had parents.”

“No one wanted you? Sorry. You didn’t get adopted? You don’t know your birth parents?”

Mumbo snorted, “I think they knew they were in for a troubled kid. Didn’t want to deal with it.”

“They did know.”

Mumbo stared at Cub for a long time, a long time, studying every crease of his face, every shape, the part of his hair, the color of his eyes.

“Are we related!?”

Cub blinked, then blinked again, startled, “No! No, that’s- definitely not. My mom only had one kid, and she- I didn’t know my dad, but we don’t look anything alike, we are not related.”

“Why are you saying all this cryptic shit then!?”

“Don’t you get it? We’re wrong. This isn’t normal, this isn’t even ‘mentally ill human’ normal, our parents are- at least one of them is- I don’t know! Hell isn’t real, they’re probably not demons, but they’re not- we aren’t- We have to track down your parents, Mumbo, have you ever tried? I need- I need to go home.”

Again, Mumbo looked at him, but it wasn’t the same kind of focused scrutiny, it was distant, like his mind was somewhere else entirely.

“Cub.. You’re having a really bad trip, alright? Just.. relax.. I’ll get you a blanket.” Like it was really that simple, Mumbo got up, moving to a basket of folded blankets across the room.

No. No! Cub wanted to scream, to tell him no, but the words got tangled on his tongue until he choked on them, he couldn’t breathe, he was- he was- Crying. Ah…

If Mumbo was put off, he did a good job not showing it, wrapping the second blanket loosely over the first, then stepping back, sitting on the recliner across the way instead of the couch.

“What did you take, Cub? And how much?”

The questions made Cub violent, but his brief thrash was contained by the original blanket and the agonizing pain that shot every direction from his shattered wrist, fingers numb and the rest of him fried, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Mumbo did not ask another question for a long, long time. When he finally spoke, Cub nearly missed it.

“What can I do for you?”

Cub didn’t bother unburying his head from his blankets, but he did think about it, he was thinking, and beyond water, beyond home, there was really only one thing he wanted.

“I hate my hair. I hate my hair, it’s too long, it’s everywhere, it itches, it never dries, I want it gone.”

And that was that.

Cub didn’t quite remember moving to the bathroom, but now he was sitting on a precarious stool, the accent blanket still wrapped snugly over his shoulders. He kept his eyes closed, the buzz of the razor a small reprieve to the ringing in his own ears, soft, consistent, comforting in small ways. His hair had grown long over his ears, too far past his neck in the back, wavy, and always in the way. The release of its weight was euphoric, each piece falling off his back driving him higher.

“Is this- fine?” Mumbo sounded nervous, but Cub couldn’t imagine why when he himself had never felt so wonderful in his whole life. “I mean, I cut my own hair, I know how to do it, but Grian won’t even let me touch his hair, and in his defense, doing my own hair a lot different than working on another person- a buzz isn’t very hard though, I mean- I hope that’s what you wanted. That’s what you said you wanted.”

“It’s perfect.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

“It’s perfect.”

“You know, I’m just going to take your word for it.”

The doorbell rang, and Mumbo snorted, mumbling something along the lines of ‘he has a key..’ before setting down his razor, leaving the bathroom to run to the front door. Cub felt the loss immediately, eyes blinking open before stumbling, nearly falling off the stool. He followed clumsily, but hardly made it into the hall before Mumbo was opening the front door just ahead.

“You know I spent money printing those extra keys for you, right. Our house keys? Our house keys that you keep losing?”

Grian huffed, sliding past Mumbo without trouble, “Maybe I just want your face to be the first thing I see after a long day at work, and you’re acting like that’s a crime.” Grian turned to walk down the hall, and Mumbo failed to catch his shoulder.

“Hey, wait a second, G-“ But it was too late.

Cub wasn’t exactly surprised to see Grian, but the horror on the other man’s face made Cub feel like a deer in the headlights, and the sudden rage that contorted it had Cub shrinking into his skin.

“GET OUT!!” Grian screamed, he screamed so loud that Mumbo jumped, shutting the front door on instinct, but Cub only froze, the drugs in his system impairing every other line of action. “GET! OUT!” Grian lunged forward, the world was moving so fast, the hall was so narrow, and Cub had to stumble backwards just to get away.

“Grian- Grian stop-!” Mumbo was equally startled, rushing forward, but not in time to keep Grian from slipping behind Cub and pushing him, hitting him forward, some blows seeming not to make contact despite thrusting Cub forward anyway. With multiple screaming voices, the world was suddenly just noise, all noise, and Cub fell blindly as he scrambled for the front door. He reached for the handle with his shattered wrist, yelled when they connected, and shrieked when Grian threw him forward regardless, ripping the door open behind Cub and pushing him down the front stoop. Even with his screaming wrist, Cub still tried to break his fall with both hands, whiting out upon contact. He was curled in on his knees when he came to, Grian’s voice clear over Mumbo’s.

“You better hope you’re gone by the time the police get here-!”

Mumbo tried to speak, but his voice disappeared behind the slammed front door, both men reduced to muffled nothings.

Cub cried Scar’s name. It wasn’t long before Cub was in his arms.

[hiraikotsusama]

ATTENTION! THIS IS A RANT POST ABOUT THOR: RAGNAROK

If you are not interested/a Ragnarok fan please skip, or just don't leave negative comments, thank you.

Ok, here we go.

I personally hate how overrated Thor: Ragnarok is.

People only started criticising Waititi's direction after the Love and Thunder flop, and I was honestly flabbergasted, because... They were criticising the exact same things they loved so much in Ragnarok.

For example, they criticised Thor being too stupid and unserious but... He was already an idiot in Ragnarok? Which, by the way, even as a Loki stan, was the thing I hated the most about the movie (I guess the Odinsons just have a tendency of becoming idiotic scapegoats in every modern piece of media that depicts them. Yes, I'm also referencing the Loki series here.)

But moving on.

Another thing that was funny to me was people (rightfully) criticising the lack of seriousness and conflict with such a great villain. And, once again, I was there standing like... It's the SAME THING that happened in Ragnarok?? Like, the movie that's supposed to be about Ragnarok literally only had like 20 minutes of apocalypse/main conflict with Hela/Surtr in it! Most of the goddamn movie takes place on a dumb garbage planet with the Grandmaster (another wasted character) just fucking around. Little side note here, the Grandmaster is supposed to be the Collector's brother (in the comics and cartoon they both collect rare things and people and compete over it, yadda yadda) and yet this isn't referenced in any way? His powers are never shown. Like what? The potential? Wasted like that? UGH.

Also, this movie adds shallow characters. First of all, obviously, the Grandmaster, who I already covered. Then, and here I'm taking a deep breath waiting to get crucified, Valkyrie.

Ok, I'm going to try and explain this one easily. Valkyrie isn't a bad character, ok? I'm already going to say this since I want to clarify it as soon as possible. I don't think she's bad and I don't dislike her. The problem is, she is given a shallow personality and shallow purpose, at least when I look at her. For instance, I appreciated the way her trauma was portrayed, with her drinking and all, but they do joke about it sometimes (too many) and that I do not appreciate. But then. Her personality just... Ends there. And again, this is comprehensible in a way, but what I do not understand is her just switching sides randomly, like she didn't capture and shock Thor just hours before in the movie. That, plus her serving little purpose to the plot is what irks me the most. Like, the main things she does in the movie are:

1. Capturing Thor and bringing him to the GM.

2. Telling them about the only way out of the planet.

3. Being there in the final battle.

And if this was a well written movie, this would make her a necessary character. But in Ragnarok... She isn't.

She catches Thor, then dips. Ok, just have him randomly land in the GM's throne room, or have him getting caught by another rando who then dips.

The escape? Loki has lived with the GM (and his most trusted court members/whatever they are supposed to be) for two weeks. Do you really think that someone like him couldn't gather such a massive piece of info in this time? Or even better, do you think he hasn't noticed the GIANT EINSTEIN-ROSEN BRIDGE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SKY? He is intelligent. That's the point of his character. He would- SHOULD- have figured it out in a matter of days, the only thing stopping him was getting to a decent ship to cross said bridge, and that's what he actually needed his brother (and maybe Hulk, even if his presence was pretty random) for.

The final battle was disappointing, so I'm not even going to comment this one.

All of this to say that, with the way the character/movie was written, Valkyrie could have been removed, a few changes could have been made and the movie would have been the same. Yeah, she's friends with Hulk, which, cool, but once again this bond isn't used in any way besides her jokong with him and Bruce. Her character was treated way better in the What If episodes she appeared in.

Then we have Korg. Yeah, I got nothing to say, he's an idiot that used to be a serious/half-important character in comics/series and got severely distorted in this movie like most other characters starring in it. Funnily enough, just like Valkyrie, his character is treated better and is way more useful in What If, which is honestly ironic.

Then, I could talk about the mistreatment of both Thor and Loki's characters but that would take a post the length of the Divine Comedy, so I'll just cut it short and cover the most important points.

Waititi clearly dislikes both Thor and Loki (Loki is disliked more, of course he is), and therefore writes them in a very OOC way. Thor turns into a full blabbering idiot and Loki is interpreted as someone whose only purpose is to betray, stab and rule. And that's all I'm going to say for now, even though I might extend the discourse in a future post.

And now, oooh boy, Hela. I loved Hela, I was excited as soon as she appeared on screen I was. And what happened next? Her brothers got lost in space and we didn't see them interact with her in any way besides her introduction and the short ahh dialogue with Thor in the final battle. I hate this so much. Once again, the movie that's supposed to talk about Ragnarok only shows the conflict in the last 20 minutes of the movie. And we barely see Hela, or at least we don't get to see her as much as we should, given that she's supposed to be the main antagonist of the damn movie. Her character was great, for all that we could see, but she is a walking definition of wasted potential and I despise it.

Now, there is something I do appreciate about the movie, and it's the characterization of Hulk. He finally isn't reduced to a stupid destroyer or dumb beast, and as a huge Hulk fan and Agents of S.M.A.S.H. watcher I liked this. This, and Heimdall being given some scenes and characterization, too. That's it. That's what I liked about the movie.

Now, short list of things I hated to finish the post: Fandral and Volstagg being killed like flies, Hogun meeting a similar fate right after, Sif not even appearing (so much for Sif and the Three Warriors); the constant jokes that were obviously made for an audience of four years olds; Skurge (or whatever his name was) just... Being there? Another useless/misused/mischaracterised character I didn't mention before, because DAMN is this character STUPID; STRANGE just appearing at some point and dipping (like he couldn't help them?? WHY EVEN MAKE HIM SHOW UP AT ALL UGHHH).

I think that's about it for now, thanks for reading this stupid rant. I'm open for constructive criticism and comment, and also for peaceful discussion, so DM me or leave a comment if you feel like interacting.

[f-cat]

Tickling FCat!

Hey there, fans! Fantine here. I know -- there's a lot of explaining to do; I don't even know where to begin. This is a long one, so I hope y'all stick with me.

A few days ago, Cat and I were going through our inbox and trying to reorganize files. Videos, shoots, requests, booking -- take your pick. We uncluttered a lot of shit and organized them into a nice list, and my boss - Cat - passed it over to me to handle. I spent a good half hour combing through the list -- I'm looking and looking -- and I notice there's a ton of messages asking:

"When's the boss gonna get hers?" "Is Cat available?" "When can we see Cat tickled?"

I'm not even joking, there's at least 20 or so messages from fans and associates about her, filled to the brim with their wildest fantasies. It's more than anything I've seen so far since we've been open. I think about how to approach this -- so I get up, walk to her office, and just lay it out. I'm reading through bullet points of ideas the fans had, and Cat's just scoffing. I remember she said "Yeah, that's never going to fucking happen."

Look, I love Cat -- we've been in business for a while, and she pays me pretty well to keep the equipment functioning, do setups, book appointments, etc. And she was never gonna be the ticklee? Not even once?

Nah. I wasn't going to let that slide. I knew in my heart she wasn't gonna fire me, because there's no one else in the industry with this much technological prowess mixed with a depraved, fetishistic mind like me. So I schemed. Just a tiny bit.

So I was like -- hey, we got these beautiful stocks auctioned off to us by some guy who we're gonna keep anonymous. Why not use it? I remembered, he told us this setup was cursed. Something to do with "Living Wood."

It took a few days, but I convinced our company nurse, our animal caretaker, and our analyst to "join the cause." No matter what, at the end of the day -- Cat is going into them stocks.

We were literally chasing her through the entire facility, and I gotta say -- this woman can fucking run. She's been training for months, and none of us on the staff are too athletic, but after a good 10 minutes or so, we finally got her. Cat was fighting and biting her way out, but sorry boo -- four is greater than one. (Cat if you're reading this, I love you, please don't fire meeee)

Now the special thing with these stocks that we found out -- they're like otherworldly, cursed, eldritch-type horrors. Arms literally spring out of them when they're about to receive a ticklee. So we put Cat in -- lock in her ankles, and I'm combing through the list to find the first bullet on the line. The fan messaged: "[I'd like Cat] with all [her] toes tied in stocks. Both feet tickled by electric toothbrushes, the arch on one and the toes on the other. Feet oiled as well if it’s not too much trouble. Thanks[.]"

We have to start somewhere, right? I'm taking off her shoes -- Cat's cursing at me, screaming to let her go -- but I mean...I've dealt with so many ticklees over the years and this shit is just blank noise. Instead of conventional baby oil or coconut oil, I'm rubbing this special concoction we made into her feet -- it's like an oil/paste hybrid with an ointment kind of consistency that makes the skin ridiculously slippery; it also retains body heat well to keep her extra sensitive. It's the stuff we put on our naughtiest lees usually.

Here's a few secrets you didn't know about my boss -- number 1: Cat's toes are her more ticklish spot. Number 2: did y'all know her feet blush when they're touched or tickled? Like they turn pink almost instantly when you're rubbing on them. I think it's fucking adorable.

Anyways, after I got Cat's feet all oiled up and we bring out the Sonicares - electric toothbrushes that vibrate thousands of times a second...it's maximum tickling efficiency capable of decimating nerves. It's her favorite tool to use (and have it used on her).

So the Living Wood comes out of the stocks and grabs the brushes up out of my hand -- I mean, she can't fire me if I'm not the one doing the tickling, right? And Cat is whimpering like crazy until they turn those brushes up on max speed and get it going -- they start gliding the bristles against her greasy-looking soles, and Cat immediately starts losing her mind. She's ticklish as fuck (on a scale of 1 to 10, she's a 30), and I know deep down, she loves it.

One of my favorite sounds I think is underrated -- is the buzzing of the electric toothbrush. Like it sounds like a nest of angry bees or wasps flying around, and the moment that buzzing becomes muffled slightly -- you know it's made contact with Cat's glistening soles. If you mix that with her roaring laughter -- I mean...paradise is right here on Earth. I'm not even joking - fans, this might be one of the hottest things y'all ever witnessed.

The toothbrush is just effortlessly gliding in between her greasy toes, and Cat is flopping side to side -- like a fish out of water. Her black hair is getting thrown back and forth as she loses her sanity. She's sweaty, blushing, wiggling, and howling...shrieking with laughter because we all know -- it tickles.

While boss is in the other room laughing it up, we'll keep her monitored. I don't think I've ever seen a girl wiggle so violently when her feet are tickled.

Anyways, I've put in a few days off for her (I'm such a caring employee, right?) and the stocks are gonna keep tickling her until the batteries on the toothbrush run out. I don't really know what it'll do after, so I'll keep y'all posted.

Don't worry about us too much, we'll take care of her! Much love to all of you!

-- Fantine

P.S. By the way, we got some secret shots of Cat if you wanna check out her DA gallery. She's gonna be mad when she finds out, so look them up while you can.

[tinyspectre]

that’s rough buddy

[natelia-aldelliz]

I just had two different thoughts (that's twice as many as usual!) :

What if Ghost decided to learn how to speak Gàidhlig as a surprise for his Johnny only to have him look at him awkwardly because "sorry LT, I only know a few words of Gàidhlig, my native language is Scots...."

".... So I can't call you maw rye?"

"..... Is... Is that mo ghràidh?"

"So you do know Gaelic!"

"I said I knew a few words!"

Or, what if it was a bad day, Soap is already feeling a bit distraught, stuck in his head, emotional, irritable, he has difficulty focusing (more than usual) and he can feel a headache coming. Remarks, teases, that he usually lets slide with a joke seem to cut him, deeper and deeper with each one.

Ghost doesn't notice. No one does. Because Soap does his best to not be a bother.

But then, Soap is talking about something he likes back home and Ghost cracks his usual "speak English" joke. But this time Soap freezes.

He wants to say "I'm sorry I'm speaking my native language, that your people, to this day, are trying to eradicate and ridicule", wants to lash out, be mean, but he doesn't.

He just smiles a little, without his eyes, and tells everyone that he's going to bed. Because he knows that it's not fair to now be mad about something he usually jokes about. Deep down he knows that Ghost doesn't mean it like that, that it's their little inside joke.

But it doesn't keep him from crying in his pillow.

[arundolyn]

bpd is really really annoying bc first of all i feel like ive felt whatever way ive been feeling if its been 5+ minutes of feeling that way for my Entire Life. and this lack of emotional object permanence is kinda making me feel like i never had a mom anyway in the entire month since she died

[anotheruntitledsong]

i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty