#How to Track a Stolen Laptop

[ebestlaptop]

How to Track a Stolen Laptop

How to Track a Stolen Laptop

Stolen laptops are a growing problem for businesses. Some people secretly take their corporate secrets with them, and sometimes even their valuables. But the damage from stolen laptops can be much more expensive after a data breach occurs. There is a way to track a stolen laptop using its serial number, however it’s important to know how to search after you find the serial number. Turn on…

[cardentist]

"haha Wow can you Believe how crazy it is that jay outed tim's medical records?"

Hoody:

1: stole tim's records from when he was 8 years old, which meant that he had to Specifically and Intentionally track them down To steal them. from his house? Maybe, we certainly see him breaking into tim's house plenty. (though why would tim even still have those)

2: baited jay both in person and online implying that tim was lying to him (reminder, the last guy who lied to jay about his intentions tried to kill him with a gun and turned out to have tried to murder all of his friends. and tim himself had watched jay sleep, been in videos threatening him right before jay's apartment burned down, and tried to physically attack him.)

3: intentionally planted the records in a scary tunnel under the abandoned burned down mental hospital and lead jay there by the nose, going so far to write how much of liar tim is in big bold sharpie on the files themselves.

4: after all of this happened hoodie's immediate next step was to break into tim's house, steal his medication, and intentionally set off and film tim having a seizure and post it on the internet.

Hoodie leaked tim's medical records, he specifically and Intentionally baited jay into finding and documenting them because it proved that tim was lying about the slender haunting only starting recently for him.

and it's important to note that jay's response wasn't to get angry with tim, it was to Blame Himself and express empathy for tim.

it's Also worth noting that the majority of the records were redacted (including tim's Name), which is a point in favor of both jay And hoodie (hoodie still cares about tim, even if he's angry at him and willing to hurt him to push him towards what he thinks needs to be done).

moreover, jay's censored tim's last name before (several times, actually), just like he's censored amy and jessica's phone numbers. I think it's safe to assume that part of the reason why jay filmed it was because those details Were redacted (that and, of course, evidence keeps disappearing from his house and from his laptop. which means if he forgets about them and they're stolen then they're just gone- if there isn't some other record of them online, of course).

my point being, it burns my ass that people blame jay for this and hold it against him like it's the worst thing that he could've done, without ever holding it against hoodie.

I feel like this is a cross section of fans only holding characters accountable for what other characters get mad about (tim was Right to be angry at jay for it, but he didn't call out hoodie. probably because there'd be no point, he can't exactly hold him responsible. likewise jay Deliberately didn't get mad at tim about what he did as masky, at least not openly, so fans tend to not understand his perspective)

And fans holding jay to a different standard than they do other characters in general. whether it's because most of his personal information is on his twitter (secondary material people are less likely to go through, especially while watching), because his voice acting tends to be less emotionally charged (it was probably just that troy's acting was a little awkward, but I personally like to read him as autistic), Or because he's just generally not as cool.

either way, people tend to hold jay accountable for things they let tim and hoody off the hook for. and it's kind of Really insane in this case.

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 20<-

Part 21

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader/Chan x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: ANGST, Jealousy, Arguing, Intimidating Chan, Swearing

Word Count: 4k

Note: You wanted Angst, you get Angst… Thought about the time Chan talked about his anger issues and felt so much better because I have the same problem. Currently working on my own anger issues. So I made it into a Part for the Story. Let me know what you think. Requests are open. Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always a blessing <3

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager. Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

The first tour dates couldn't have gone better.

The atmosphere during the show was incredible and the fans loved the comeback and everything you had prepared for them. Traveling from city to city across the world was completely new for you and getting to know all the different cultures and people was so exciting that you often thought you were only dreaming it all.

Even though there was an immense amount of responsibility on your shoulders that completely took your breath away at times, there were always the Kids that brought you back to your feet and showed you how lucky you were to be able to experience this together with them.

But one thing was still ahead of you and you broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.

The first big concert in Japan was coming up and it was extremely important for JYP Entertainment and Stray Kids that everything worked out there. The gig turned out to be more complicated than expected, but if the show went smoothly, you had some contracts secured for the future.

On the plane to Japan, you were sitting between Hyunjin and Chan and had been working on your Ipad for a couple of hours to make sure everything went smoothly for the next concerts in Japan and Australia.

Chan had his headphones on and was already working on new tracks on his laptop, while Hyunjin's head was leaning against your shoulder and he was scrolling through social media on his phone or writing on Bubble with Stays.

"Pretty, look at this!" he commented, holding up his phone to snap a selfie.

"Let's tell our Stays we'll be in Japan soon."

While Hyunjin looked like the main character straight out of a romantic Kdrama even with the oversize hoodie and baggy jeans, you looked more like you just woke up with your hair pulled up into a messy bun, wearing one of Felix's washed out blue shirts and some old short leggings.

"No don’t! I look horrible," you pouted as he pointed the selfie camera at you and you tried to tidy a few strands of hair on your head.

Additionally, you were without makeup. You didn't have time to get ready in the morning, and with the guys, you could always just be who you were. You knew exactly that they liked you even without makeup, nice clothes and done hair.

You realised that at the latest when they had stared at you with open mouths when you first came shuffling into the living room with sweatpants, a worn hoodie and no makeup.

Jisung and Jeongin had fought over where you should sit, and Chan had almost drooled when he had noticed that you had secretly stolen one of his sweatpants. They were much more comfortable and smelled pleasantly of him.

Felix had almost forced his shirt on you, loving how his clothes clung to your curves. You kept catching yourself smelling Felix's things. It made you breathe a sigh of relief right away, like a warm summer day.

Hyunjin looked at you and grabbed your face with one hand to stare directly into your eyes. As he did so, the tip of his nose touched yours and he looked more serious than ever.

"There's nothing about you that's horrible. You look stunning. Whether in a dress or a dirty shirt."

"Dirty?" you asked a little indistinctly as he squeezed your cheeks.

He pointed to a spot on your collar that was actually discolored a little black.

"Shit," you cursed, trying to get the stain off, but it didn't work. You had probably been playing with the pen too much while you were engrossed in your work.

You heard Hyunjin chuckle softly. He raised his cell phone and just as you looked up, he pressed the shutter button.

"Hey!" you snapped at him as he pulled the phone away before you could grab it.

He looked at the picture and laughed louder.

"You look so cute!" he giggled, turning away so you couldn't see.

"Show me already!" you snapped at him as you missed again to grab his hand.

That's when he finally turned the screen and you could see the two of you in the picture. Hyunjin looked perfect, as always. He had his temple leaning against yours and you were looking into the camera with big round eyes, a puzzled pout on your pink lips.

In fact, the picture wasn't that bad. You looked cute together, but you would never admit that. Chan looked up from his laptop and regarded the picture with a smile.

"That turned out well! You look like a scared kitten" he laughed, and that's when you saw Hyunjin uploading it to Bubble. Sighing, you let yourself fall back into the seat and felt Hyunjin put an arm around you and pull you against him. You leaned your head against his and watched him scroll through the comments and responses from Stays.

The responses were positive through and through. Many wrote how cute you looked and a whole lot of people wrote how beautiful they thought you were, that you were made for the Stray Kids and you blushed when Hyunjin teased you about it. The love you got from the fans was incredible. Soon you were swept to TikTok and watched videos while cuddling.

You laughed at funny edits and compilations where recordings of you and the Kids were cut together. Meanwhile, there were tons of shipping videos where intimate moments between you and the guys were recorded and put together.

Whether it was during the video shoots in the background, like the making of the teaser where you saw too late that Jeongin and you could be seen in the background while you were very close taking care of his nosebleed. Just in time, Hyunjin had turned off the camera and so your kiss was no longer filmed.

But your laughter died in your throat when a video popped up that also made Hyunjin squint his eyes.

At first you recognized the building by the little café with the green doors. It was only a few minutes walk from JYPE, so Chan usually got the coffee for you from there that you loved so much.

You all got lost there all the time during breaks or after work because it was tucked away in an alley and the boys were also very rarely recognised there.

That’s why it was even stranger that someone had filmed this very café.

Spellbound, you stared at the screen as it zoomed in until you could make out indistinct outlines behind the shop windows.

On the video you saw the outlines of a man and a smaller woman with blond hair. Even though the quality was really bad and you couldn't make out very much except for a few pixels, you knew who the girl was.

You had personally hired the stylist before the tour. She was Australian, had an excellent resume and was doing an excellent job so far.

She was really pretty and had quickly made friends with Chan. Her charm had not escaped you either. Even though it stung your chest every time you saw them chatting together, you never let on.

You couldn't. After all, you had a job to do.

There was wild speculation in the comments whether that was actually Bang Chan on the video, with a 'mystery' girl.

You could only see him from behind, but you knew immediately that it was him.

He wore the same jacket on the video as he did yesterday in the studio, and his posture was so familiar to you that there was no doubt in your mind.

In the video, the two were standing behind the window of the café and had obviously taken a break yesterday to get coffee. You had seen them leave the JYP building, but you hadn't given it a second thought because you were up to your neck in work.

Now your heart was tightened into a knot and stung uncomfortably in your chest when you saw Mina in the video giving Chan her bright smile. They were talking boisterously and despite the blurry image, due to the enormous zoom, you could see how beautiful she was.

Her blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders and shone like liquid gold in the light.

You glanced briefly at Chan, but he was engrossed in his work and didn't notice anything.

What happened next in the video burst the knot in your chest, leaving painful shards that cut you from the inside out.

You looked closer at the screen, Hyunjins hands shivered and they actually kissed. There was no doubt about it.

You couldn't stand the video a second longer and jumped up from your seat. Hyunjin immediately turned off his phone and looked after you in panic as you excused yourself and disappeared into the bathroom.

He had also seen it for the first time and couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

Only when you saw your pale face in the mirror did your heart seem to start beating again. And it hammered painfully in time with your breathing.

It shouldn't affect you. No you shouldn't care. You were the manager and nothing more, you should be aware of that. Chan had explained to you what the arrangement was about. It was not a firm commitment and you had no right to feel that way. But then why did tears come to your eyes? Silently you sobbed into your hand, which you pressed forcefully over your mouth so that no one would hear you.

Your breathing panicked as you tried to calm yourself, but the pain in your chest bored deeper into your flesh with each breath.

It took a few breaths before you could get your body back to work normally. You winced violently as someone knocked on the door.

"Y/N? Are you in there?" you heard Hyunjin ask.

Hectically, you ripped paper from the dispenser and tried to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"Yes. I'm in here," you said in a shaky voice, trying not to sound too nasal. You cleared your throat hard and could hear him leaning his head against the door.

"How are you?"

With both thumbs, you brushed away remaining tears from under your eyes and took a deep breath. Then you opened the door with a jerk and put on a smile as soon as you looked Hyunjin in the eye.

"Everything's fine."

Concern gleamed in his eyes, and in wonder he watched you push past him. But you didn't run back to your place next to Chan.

Instead, you ran to Han and Minho who were sitting further back. As soon as you got near them, they made room and Han tapped the seat between them.

"Finally you join us, honey!"

You dropped down between them, trying not to show how much the video was bothering you. Automatically Minho put a hand on your knee and let his thumb circle over your thigh while he dozed off with his eyes closed.

"I wanted to see how you were doing back here," you said with a smile, watching Hyunjin walk back with a petrified look on his face.

"We're better now," Han purred, pressing a kiss to your neck, nibbling on your skin playfully until you giggled and pushed him away because it tickled.

Minho's hand was tight against your inner thigh, and though he didn't open his eyes, he gave you such a sense of security that you dared to breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn't until you landed that you remembered one thing that made you grind your teeth.

At the airport you would meet the rest of the team, which meant Mina too....

You wanted to throw up the moment you spotted her between the Secruity and the rest of the staff. Of course, the airport was littered with fans and press and the typical commotion began to break out around you as soon as the first people recognized Stray Kids.

You were led through the airport, accompanied by lightning storms, shouts and crowds. It was overwhelming every time, but right now you had completely different worries.

Your gaze automatically followed Chan, who hurried past the people with his eyes downcast. When you recognized Mina's blond mop of hair in front of him, you clenched both hands into fists and no longer heard all the chaos around you.

The guys all ran one after the other through a narrow aisle kept clear by security, waving to the fans and into the hundreds of cameras. Mina was about to let Chan through, since he was the last of the guys in front of you, but he put a hand on her back and let her pass safely down the aisle in front of him.

Your environment drifted into the background and although it was typical of Chan to be concerned about the welfare of others, tears were already pushing their way into the corners of your eyes again.

The video played continuously in your mind and you feared suffocation if you had to watch his hand touching her back for a second longer.

It took what felt like an eternity until you were out of the airport and reached the shuttle buses.

There, one by one, everyone climbed into the cars and when you reached the door, Chan, of all people, held the door open for you and offered you a hand so you could get in. Your eyes met for a moment and that broke the last fortitude, that was left in your body.

His warm amber eyes radiated the confidence that always gave you security, no matter how stressful it was. But right now, you couldn't think of anything but the pain you felt when you saw Mina and him kissing.

Despite the many cell phone cameras pointed at you, you ignored his hand and ran to the nearest bus where Seungmin and Felix were just getting on.

Jeongin reacted immediately and took your seat. Chan, on the other hand, looked after you in confusion and remained standing until Han called out to him to get on.

By the time you reached the hotel, you felt so sick that you had to lean against the reception desk while you waited for the room cards. You noticed Chan's inquiring gaze on you, you dodged his glare every time he tried to make contact. With the four room cards, you went back to the guys in the lobby and distributed them among them. There, too, you ignored Chan's hand when he tried to take a card for himself and Changbin.

But you couldn't even bear to stand near him.

So you sidestepped him and gave it directly to Changbin. Hyunjin and I.N went first to their room and were soon followed by Seungmin and Han. Without another word, you slipped into the next elevator while the rest were still chatting.

But before the door could close, an arm slid between the thick doors and Chan slipped in at the last moment. As soon as the elevator started moving, he turned to you.

"What's wrong?"

You could feel how much it bothered him that you ignored him, but even now you didn't dare look at him.

"Nothing." you replied dryly.

The soft elevator music punctuated your anger, which began to bubble with the stinging feeling in your chest.

"That's not true. You've been ignoring me since the flight. What have I done?"

You watched the rising numbers on the display, the details of what floor you were on, as if it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen.

"I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong."

The sentence came out a bit sharper than you wanted and when he remained silent and just stared at you, as if he would get any answer that way, you made the mistake of looking at him for a moment.

Immediately he recognized the sadness mixed with anger in your eyes.

"Talk to me, Y/N! You know you can trust me with anything and if I did something, please tell me!"

The elevator finally stopped on the right floor and just before the doors opened you snorted in annoyance.

"Why don't you ask Mina to talk to you? I'm sure she'd be interested."

You regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, but your head was full of blinding anger. Anger at yourself for acting so childish and not being able to do anything about it. Anger at the blonde girl and especially anger at Chan.

You quickly jumped out of the elevator and just wanted to leave. After only a few steps, Chan grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, making you look at him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, by now with a darker tone and his piercing look sent a shiver down your spine.

"It's nothing!" it escaped you louder than you meant to, and you pried your hand from his grasp.

Chan looked more and more confused, and before you could whirl around again to leave, he was holding you by the arm again, pressing you against the red wallpaper of the hallway. It took your breath away as he leaned over you, his eyes flickering with rage.

"Then why are you treating me like this? You always keep everything bottled up. It's exhausting. Why don't you trust me?" he asked, sounding hurt. The grip on your arm was so tight it hurt, but he didn't seem to notice. He clenched his teeth hard and his jaw twitched.

His eyes were fixed on yours and you feared you had forgotten how to speak. His broad shoulders completely shielded you from the outside world and he made no move to let you go.

Tears now burned dangerously at the corners of your eyes and you swallowed painfully to push them back.

"It's all right," you tried to say in a strained voice, but gradually he seemed to catch on. Your words slowly got through to him and that's when you felt his grip on your arms loosen.

"You know about the kiss?" he asked quietly, suddenly dejected.

"It's all over the internet. You've been filmed."

His hands flew into his hair and he briefly turned his back to you as he groaned loudly:

"Fucking hell..."

You still pressed your hands tightly against the wall, not daring to move from the spot.

"Don't worry you won't be recognized. You can only speculate..." you said and that's when he turned back to you.

That he might be recognized was the least of his worries at the moment. He looked sad and there was something else in his eyes that you couldn't put your finger on.

"She just kissed me suddenly. I didn't want to..." he began, but you shook your head and stared at the floor.

His justifications were so much worse than being silent.

"It's okay Chan. You don't have to explain anything to me. You can do whatever you want," you replied a little more quietly as an older couple came out of one of the hotel rooms and eyed you curiously.

You took a few steps away from the wall and only when the people were gone did Chan reply:

"Oh yeah, so it doesn't bother you?"

"What do you want me to say?" you shouted in his face, your voice rolling over. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes and your lower lip quivered dangerously. Gradually, you didn't care if he saw you crying. The pain in your chest was too deep and every second you argued, you got progressively worse.

Chan threw his hands in the air and you had never seen him so loud and frantic before.

"That you're angry with me. That you hate me or just punch me. But don't say it's okay! You always do."

"I don't have the right to say anything Chan!"

"Why?"

His eyes were full of pain and you could see your own anger reflected in them.

"Because I'm not your girlfriend."

The sentence hung in the air like thick smog poisoning the atmosphere and Chan just stared.

You couldn't bear to look at his perplexed face for a second longer and turned to flee. You just wanted to bury yourself in your bed until the next flight and never have to speak again.

"So you don't care?" you heard Chan shout behind you. By now you couldn't hold back the tears and they streamed freely down your cheeks. You were already embarrassed about what a wreck you were, but inside it was tearing you apart.

Chan meant so much to you and now arguing with him like this was eating you up. When you didn't respond, he shouted emphatically:

"Y/N! Look me in the eye and say you don't care! Then I'll leave you alone."

So you turned around after all. When he saw your face flooded with tears, he froze and would have loved to run to you to pull you into his arms. He regretted all of his words and hated himself for his anger issues that he never wanted to take them out on you.

He didn't know you were crying, and seeing you with swollen eyes and wet cheeks, your body now finally shaken by bloodcurdling sobs, was a sight he never wanted to see or trigger.

He felt terribly guilty, but no words escaped his lips.

"I do," you murmured, wrapping your arms around your body.

"What?"

His voice was brittle and his eyes red. He was on the verge of breaking down. Only extreme tension kept him from becoming a blubbering mess.

"I care about it! I care about you, idiot! I hate seeing you with her! I hate even more how it makes me feel. It fucking hurts like hell and I know I have no right to feel this way, but I want to cry and lash out when I see her around you!" you sobbed and by now the entire hallway must have heard you.

"I shouldn't have let all this happen.... I knew you'd get hurt if you came near me."

His voice softened again and he took a step towards you.

"No. It was my choice. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to the arrangement."

Chan shook his head, gritted his teeth, and wanted to touch you. Warningly, you raised a hand to keep him from coming closer. The intimidating anger in his eyes was burned into your memory and you wouldn't forget it anytime soon.

It was all too much for you, and if he took one more step toward you, you couldn't guarantee anything. Your emotions were caught in a whirlpool of rage, fear and sadness over which you no longer had any control.

"Stay away! Please don't come any closer!"

At your shaky voice, something inside him broke, but he immediately stopped and raised his hands to signal that he wouldn't hurt you.

"Chan, if I'm just a fucktoy to you, that's fine, but then tell me."

He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at you uncomprehendingly. The silence that followed was answer enough and you wanted to throw up, fall to the floor and choke on your own tears.

Why had you been so blind? He had made it clear from the beginning that it would never amount to a relationship with him or any of the others.

Your stupid feelings were all your fault.

"I understand..."

It was just a huff, and you had knocked on Hyunjin's hotel room faster than Chan could respond. He could only watch as the door opened and closed again behind you.

Chan slammed his fist against the wall and cursed loudly. He had ruined everything and driven away the person who meant so much to him. His biggest fear had become reality and it was all his fault.

Hyunjin pulled you into his arms without hesitation and just held you while your body was shaken by heart-wrenching sobs.

Together you sat down on the bed, where he hugged you tightly and never let go.

You didn't have to say what was going on. No words were necessary and you were grateful to him for that. He was just there, holding you, whispering soothing words and keeping you company until the tears subsided and you fell asleep exhausted in his arms.

->Part 22

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© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[tarousbaby]

NINE-TO-FIVE !

FUSHIGURO TOJI STORY

work colleagues trope !

kinktober day five!

squirting, public sex, verbal degredation, rough sex, very uncleanly sex, daddy kink, he spits in your mouth

masterlist <3

in your line of work, you'd only heard bad things about the sorcerer killer but after a particular boss had hired you both, you quickly found out all the secret pleasures he kept hidden.

word count: 2531

working with fushiguro toji, the sorcerer killer, was nothing like you had expected it to be. he was big, you knew he would be, but he wasn't aggressive which was the biggest surprise.

his larger than life body would loom behind you as the two of you walked, his thick palms brushing yours, and presence of his cursed energy hanging over you like a thick blanket. it was almost comforting in a way, to be protected so fiercely and casually at the same time.

your ability to track was impeccable, which made working with toji unbelievably easy for him. you found the target, he killed the target. the mutual exchange was easy, and you found yourself going from being a tag-a-long to being toji's partner in crime in a way.

business men soon realized, toji worked better with you, and you worked better with toji. they bought your servitude was a package, and the two of you would pool the money together.

but you weren't a fool. you knew just how dangerous he was, you witnessed it first hand regularly. the massive amounts of raw power he held in just his pinky finger was incredible. not even a level one jujutsu sorcerer could hold their own against him, maybe not even a special grade.

it was rare, considering he had no cursed energy, but not impossible. so, you were wary and did your research. you knew he was a zenin, you knew just the mention of his family name had targets trembling. and yet, he acted nothing like the zenins you'd met. nothing like naoya, at least.

he wasn't nice by any means, or respectful but he was better. he understood your cursed technique, respected it, and trusted you enough to get the job done. he let you get close, familiar, and in the rare occasion he managed to get hurt he'd come to you.

working with toji was amazing. large bounties, harder targets, the thrill of it all. so, when you get the email that you have a new target, you hop onto it immediately.

"there you are," toji drawls, slumped in a chair. his smirk is small, but you still catch it, sending one of your own smiles back. "thought you were about to back down on me."

the man, whatever pig that had hired you both, looks between you. he looks a little lost, but his lips are pressed tight. you hum, pulling out your chair. "wouldn't miss it for the world."

toji clicks his tongue, and leans back. "couldn't miss my face, right?"

you scoff. "you wish."

the man blinks, finger crossed in front of his mouth. he opens his mouth, beginning to speak when toji pushes up. "just give us a name, we don't need a debrief if we got her."

he stutters, looking over to you, brows furrowed. clearly, he hadn't done his research. you tilt your head, expression patient but expecting. he licks his lips, a drop of sweat clinging to his forehead. gross.

the man stutters through some name that toji jots down with a pen on the inside of his arm. then, he points to the door and you know it's your cue to go.

"i already have the rooms set up," you say, pulling out the keys to the hotel you'd just checked into. "only one room. wanted to save some money."

"fine with me," he says, and takes them from you.

he, in turn, offers, "wanna get something to eat?"

you grin. "definitely. i'm starving."

-

you sit in the damp hotel room, windows pulled open to try and air out the scent of mildew. your legs are crossed as you sit in the center of the bed, your laptops pushed in front of you, and multiple city hall files surrounding you. toji had oh so kindly stolen them before you'd returned.

you thumb through the man's criminal record, trying to see if there was a way you could frame the crime scene. most times, these people had a long extensive record which made it easy to blame their deaths on some petty revenge of some rival.

toji dropped a bag of greasy fast food into your lap, and you looked up, mouthing a quiet 'thank you'.

he hums, and rounds the bed, sitting on your side. his hand dips into the bag in your lap, and pulls out a few fries. "anything good?"

you shrug. "mostly small gang violence, nothing big. i still have another page though. there was some charges of assault and battery last year though."

toji rolls his eyes. "that ain't shit."

you nod, dog-earing a page and typing a few notes onto your file on your laptop. information was important to keep on hand. you bite your lip.

"get me a fry, will you?" you ask.

toji does, reaching into the bag again and pulling one out. he answers your silent command when you open your mouth, placing it between your teeth.

you bite down, but some salt spreads across your lips. toji's reaction is immediate, his thumb swiping away at the glistening dots, before flicking them off into the back. you ignore the way your gut burns.

-

toji heaves a little, flinging a severed limb back to the mangled mess that was your targets corpse. his black hair sticks to his forehead, a little bit of sweat accumulated on his brow.

"didn't know he'd have bodyguards," he muttered, lips twisted into a frown. "probably got a tip about us."

except you aren't really focusing on what he's saying. instead, you're focusing on the splashes of blood soaking into your shirt.

"ewww," you groan, waving your hands, "you got his blood everywhere!"

toji raises one unimpressed eyebrow, arms crossed. "is that seriously what you're going to complain about right now?"

"yes," you stress with a huff, "this was one of my favorites."

toji rolls his eyes, leaning against one of the walls. he looks back to the pile of corpses, and wonders, "should we keep the head? he didn't say whether we should or not."

"i don't know, and i don't care. you owe me a new shirt."

toji groans, running a hand through his hair. "get over it, you have plenty of money to buy a new one now."

"as if," you mumble, "i'm relying on the paychecks i get from you killing people."

he pushes himself off the wall, takes a few slow steps up to you, and takes your shirt by the ends. he inspects the blood, dabs at it with his thumb, before letting it go.

"just take it off," he says, "i'll get you the money for a new one."

"i can't just take it off," you say, "i'll get arrested for public nudity!"

toji looks around the dingey alley the two of you are in. there's no sounds, not even the faint sounds of music from the nearby club. there's one flickering streetlight a few blocks down. not a single soul in sight, or curse.

"there ain't no public to see."

"that's not the point," you grumble.

toji's patience is clearly wearing thinner, and you aren't quite sure what he's gonne do until he's pulling off his skintight black shirt and handing it to you.

you stand there, frozen. your eyes are glued to his body, unable to look away from his sculpture. his abs are hard, but you knew that through his outline. his muscles are even more chiseled up close, his pecs large and strong.

your mouth watered a little.

"are you going to change or not?" his rasp draws you out of your stupor, and you blink slowly before reaching for the shirt. you then look back to him, expecting him to turn around but he doesn't.

you swallow, long and hard. you take your shirt off, careful to not let the blood-splashed fabric touch your face. your skin prickles with goosebumps against the cold air. you did have a bra on, but it didn't do much to cover your skin.

as quickly as you could, you slip the shirt on. it wasn't nearly as tight on you. toji's eyes lift to your face, and he wipes the blood off his palm onto his sweatpants. then he reaches forward, and his hand comes to cup your hip.

you arch into his grip instinctively, pressing your chest to his without thinking. toji lets out a low chuckle, and his hand slips down and gives your ass a firm squeeze.

without thinking, you let out a startled gasp.

the smell of irony blood, and toji's natural musk fills your nose. toji's scent isn't bad by any means, just strong. your head buries into his chest as his other hand comes to the small of your back, pressing in and forcing your arch a little more.

"you're so desperate," he laughs, "pushing against me like a bitch in heat."

you glare up at him, but it quickly melts away upon seeing his smirk.

you knew very well how attractive toji was. beautiful had to be a genetic thing when it came to zenin's. his deep green eyes, his inky black hair, his pale cream skin.

there was always this push pull thing. you’d dip your toes into the water, see how far you could push him. you’d never thought you’d get this far, feel his hands dip down your back.

toji takes your jaw in one hand, and pulls you up for a searing kiss that makes your mouth ache. it’s messy, and wet, and you can smell the iron wafting off the blood on his hands.

it’s not what you’d imagined, and yet it still manages to be better to every daydream you’d ever had. nights spent, hands clamped between your thighs, coated in slick, imaging it was his thick muscle instead.

“fuck,” you murmur against his chest, breath hot.

“if you wish,” you can hear the amusement in his voice, but it’s nothing compared to the pure desperation in yours. you want him—no—you need him.

his thumb slips into your mouth, pulling your jaw open. you only have a moment to realize what he’s doing before he spits in your mouth and says, “swallow.”

you do, not really tasting it but wrinkling your nose anyway. his hand then shifts to your shoulder and forces you to your knees as he leans up against the stone of the wall behind you. you understand immediately.

you fumble with the strings of his sweatpants before looping your fingers under them and tugging them down along with his boxers.

he’s big, you’d be a fool to think he wasn’t, and your cunt gives a pathetic pulse. you’re soaking through your panties just thinking about it.

you spit into your hand, tojis saliva still on your tongue and use it to lube up your hand. slowly, you work your way up his shaft, your other hand reaching back to grip his thighs.

you give a small lick to his tip, feeling his muscle shudder and flex under your touch. you take his tip into your mouth, sucking softly before letting it go with a pop.

peppering kisses down his length, you reach the base, before licking one long stripe up and taking him into your mouth. he’s already unbearably hard.

you can feel him in the back of your throat, and his groans fill your ears. you begin to work your way up and down him, shifting your head and unlocking your jaw in order to take him fully. his hand comes to your hair, pulling at your hair, nails digging into your scalp.

he’s so big, it makes your head spin.

unsurprisingly, he takes your hand and begins to thrust into your throat. you try your hardest not to gag, tears pricking in your eyes and clinging to your lashes.

after a few minutes, he pulls off, a thin trail of spit connecting your puffy lips to his cock. he taps it on your lips with a chuckle, before aiming down and cumming with a moan over your neck and collarbone.

“need you,” you whine, “please, toji.”

he helps you up, but in a moments notice he’s picking you up, hands underneath your thighs. he pushes your back against the stone, and the cold prickly wall cuts into your back through the thin shirt.

he rubs at your pussy with his duck through your leggings, watching as the dark spot on your grey leggings grows and grows.

“such a filthy girl,” he mutters against the shell of your ear, pulling at the band of your legging and letting it snap back against your stomach. you whimper, biting down on your lip.

“want you in me.”

toji grins against your neck, and sucks a big bruise into your flesh. he licks up your neck, up to your jaw. then, he finally pulls down your leggings and pantie.

the cold air bites against your skin, raising goosebumps but the warmth of toji quickly envelopes you. his dick pushes between your lips, rubbing against your clit and eliciting small hiccups of moans from your throat.

“please!” you sob, cheeks flushing red. “i need to cum!”

he clicks his tongue. then, he shoves two thick fingers into your pussy, making you scream. your shriek echoes throughout the alley, but you regard for other people dissapears.

his fingers curl inside you quickly, trying to stretch you out as quickly as possible to give you what you want. his thumb rubs at your clit at the same time, his dick leaking precum over your thigh.

“c’mon, daddy, wanna feel you!”

you can see the switch happen in toji, watch as his eyes darken and his posture tenses.

toji rips his fingers out, drawing a whine from you. his face buries into your breasts, forehead resting against your collarbone.

his cock pushes into you, hitting your g-spot immediately. he was skilled, he’d fucked before. he knew how to make you cum and make you cum quick.

he fucks into you rapidly, and you’re practically bouncing onto his lap. your arms wrap around his neck, your head falling back as he lifts his head to suck more bruises into your skin.

you cum, in one short scream that has your entire body shaking with the aftershocks. “haah—oh fuck, toji, ‘m cumming, ‘m cumming!”

he groans, long and loud against your jaw. he presses a kiss to your lips to shut you up. you squirt, for the first time in what felt like forever, all over his abdomen.

tojis only fucking you for a few more seconds before you feel his cum spilling up inside you. you slump, body limp and struggling to keep locked around his body.

“fuck, you’re such a slut, you know that right?” toji laughs, wiping at the sweat on your neck.

“only for you,” you pant, as he lets you down. your legs wobble, like a baby deer first learning how to walk, but you manage to pull your clothes back up.

toji stares you down, then stares at his bloody clothes, then at the corpses. “we’re fucking disgusting.”

you grin, and pull him out of the alley. “yeah, but we knew that already.”

[cheesecakethots]

i can just imagine a very lonely and sad reader scrolling through internet forums and random group chats trying to find some companionship. even at its more superficial level and with that “friendship” barely lasting a few conversations before it’s back to ghosting, yet you’re desperate to cover up this emptiness that you’re willing to take whatever you can have.

then this is where chrollo comes into the picture. can’t really get into the logistics of it, but at some point you’re in some deep dark part of the internet. somewhere you’re not supposed to be in, but you’re feeling daring that day and an extra level of misery. suddenly you stumble upon a listing of an obscure book published a long time ago, somewhere on the black market that’s going for an absurd amount of money. you feel confident enough to comment something like, “a million for this shit? a freshly harvested liver isn’t even worth this. lower the price.” you’re itching for a fight. then in just a few hours, you didn’t expect to debate about books and other eye rolling shit over the internet with some dude who thinks he’s better than you.

he, chrollo but you don’t know him yet, is so pretentious you want to gouge your eyes out. but out of spite you are not backing down. he’s debating you on proust or whatever his name is. you don’t read a whole lot anyway, so you’re pulling out of your ass. he finds you funny, witty, and endearing in your own weirdly charismatic way. and you find him irritating because he never shuts up. it’s this weird dynamic of back and forth banter that has no apparent end. should you be glad that in the years you’ve been searching for a friend, this one has managed to stuck with you this far along? how long has it been since you two have started talking? a few weeks at least, and the argument is still fresh and it’s about philosophy now, which is even more mind-numbing. but this guy knows how to keep a conversation going at least. you feel more annoyed that this asshole is the only person willing to talk to you, instead of any other rando with manners and actual substance to their personality. but you can’t really complain, at least you have one friend.

it’s mostly him who hits you up, not you. and it’s mostly at unusual times. he has a pattern of texting you around midnight to early in the morning, even if you tell him not to disturb you a billion times, so you don’t respond right away. but when you do, he’s sent a myriad of long paragraphs of some shit you can’t really bother to comprehend. you respond with and eye rolling emoji and this headache responds instantaneously. it’s no brainer that sooner or later, he’ll be interested enough to track you down and find every piece of information about you.

anon go write a fic NOW

i love this sm like becoming kinda frenemies with chrollo online, seeing him as this dude who is really annoying but also charming in a way? you’re constantly drawn back to conversations with him because they’re just so enriching, especially compared to the boring chats you’ve had with the very few ‘friends’ you have.

soon enough he starts debating over things you like. huh, he also reads that really obscure manga that has a total of 100 reads? cool! oh wow, he’s played that one game you’ve played so much you can practically quote it word for word? nice!

it gets weirder the more you talk, but you don’t really notice all that much, and if you do you choose to ignore it. he’s one of the first real friends you’ve had in a long time.

you’ll come back from work into your lonely and quite shabby apartment, making sure to place locks on your door. it’s a bad neighbourhood. huh, it’s a bit chilly. you could’ve sworn you shut the window? well… nothing looks to be stolen. weird.

you’ll sit down, and ready up your old and dying laptop, grinning a little despite the tiredness in your bones and bags under your eyes. the friend you speak to online, chrollo, is usually on around this time. it’s always nice to have a chat with him after you get in. you seemingly haven’t managed to rile him up, but you swear you’re getting close.

just got back from work. what you were saying about that passage in chapter 27 is totally wrong, btw. you should maybeeee get ur facts straight before trying to debate with me about it >:)

you miss the sound of a soft chime behind you after you send the message, opening up a streaming service so you can watch an episode of something before bed.

a message pops up on your screen.

how about a debate in person, [name]?

your eyebrows crinkle together. what a weirdo.

as you put on an episode, your monitor goes black for just a moment, but that’s all you need to see the reflection of a figure looming behind you.

[azureseacloud]

Hidden Messages

Ghost (Band)

Part 3

Dewdrop x Reader

Words: 2,534

Warnings: more ✨tension✨, swearing

Here’s the next part, I hope you all enjoy it! :))

Requests are still open so feel free to message me. Updates might be a little slower as I’m busy most of next week and the week after, but I promise I will still be working on this one :))

Thanks for all the support, I love you all!! 🫶

Tags: @gummy-dummy

@ghoulettess

@viylikescats

The meeting with Sister Imperator went well, although it took up most of the morning. You just barely made it in time—having to rush and get changed in your room. It also didn’t help that you’d left your laptop in the ghoul quarters, so you had to go digging for the folders that held all the important printed documents.

It probably would have taken less time to collect your laptop—but there was no way you were going back down there this morning. Especially after whatever that had been with Dewdrop. Honestly, what was he playing at?

It plagued your thoughts all morning, your mind finding any spare moment to circle back to being in his arms. Then how he had pulled you back down onto the couch afterwards, refusing to let you go. Not to mention, the mystery of how you had gotten into his arms in the first place.

You were dying to talk to Cirrus. If anyone knew, it would be her. After all, you’d been in her arms first, and unless Dew had stolen you away from her when she was sleeping, (which was preposterous and absolutely not what you were now imagining), then that meant she would have some idea of what had happened.

Thankfully, you didn’t think Sister Imperator noticed how distracted you were. You’d managed to get exceptionally good at hiding your thoughts and feelings, especially in a more professional setting, such as the official meeting. She even praised your work; and Sister never handed out praise carelessly. You should have had that running through your mind as you walked through the corridors—but no, instead you were still preoccupied with thoughts of a certain fire ghoul.

A fire ghoul who also happened to be right there.

He was just up ahead, one leg braced against the wall as he leaned, his arms crossed. You stopped in your tracks, glancing to your left where a passageway was open. It would make your trip back to your room a lot longer, and you’d have to take a confusing zig-zag pattern, or you could just face the ghoul.

He hadn’t spotted you yet, or had he? Was this all a part of his game? Was that why he was doing this? Or were you just overanalysing the situation? The other ghouls could get clingy sometimes—hell, you’d had to untangle yourself from Aurora before, and you couldn’t forget that week Rain had rarely left your side. It could just be normal ghoul behaviour.

Taking one last look at the way out, you kept walking, tidying the folder you were currently carrying as a distraction while you drew closer. You noticed the moment his head turned in your direction, those goggles fixing on you as you neared where he was practically lounging against the wall.

Looking up, you chirped out a “Hey Dew,” as you got within earshot.

You were going to keep walking when he pushed off the wall, standing in front of you, forcing you to stop. You raised an eyebrow as he took a step closer, tilting his head again in that way that was insanely attractive. Cirrus had been amused when you told her about it, sending you countless videos of Dew doing just that on stage. Again, that thought of ‘did he somehow know’ circled through your mind even as you remained composed on the outside.

“Hello dearest,” Dew said, his voice low and hinting at a smirk. He was so close, one of his hands hovering around your arm, lightly trailing against your skin while he watched your expression.

You kept a straight face, even as your body tingled at his delicate touch. Your other hand tightened on the folder. Did he know what he was doing to you?

“I thought you had practice.” You tried to ignore the way his hand curled higher, brushing against your neck as he settled his fingers on your chin, his touch warm.

“Copia gave us a break,” Dewdrop said quietly, his thumb running across your jaw. You wanted to close your eyes at the sensation. Damn this ghoul.

Instead, you wrapped a hand around his wrist, tugging his hand away from your chin firmly. He tilted his head again, his hand twisting in your grasp to entwine his guitarist fingers with yours.

You faltered momentarily, looking at where he was holding your hand as your brain stuttered. Dewdrop was never this touchy, and it was almost as if you couldn’t shake away his contact. Not that you didn’t like it—that was the problem. You liked it too much.

Did he know? It was becoming a recurring chant at this point. Did he know how you felt about him?

“What are you doing?” You asked, pointedly looking at your hands.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answered with a cocky undertone that told you he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“This.” You flexed your hand in his grip, cocking an eyebrow. “I didn’t realise you were so clingy.”

Dew huffed at that, and by the way the mask moved you could tell he was smiling in amusement. He took another step forward, his masked face now inches from yours, his other hand brushing against your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“And I didn’t realise it bothered you so much,” he purred, skimming his fingers up your waist. It sent a shiver through your body, and before you could react he stepped away, pulling you along to the alcove beside where he had been leaning.

Releasing your hand, he reached along the ledge while you stood behind him, still stunned from his touch and his voice and his hand grasping yours and—

Pull it together, you urged yourself, snapping out of it and working an unamused expression onto your face. You crossed your arms as the ghoul turned around.

He was holding a laptop. Your laptop.

“You forgot this, dearest sibling of sin.” The smugness was back in his voice as he held it out, waiting for you to take it. When you reached out he pulled back, skirting around you and leaning back against the wall with a taunting laugh.

This was more like the Dew you knew. A fiery dickhead who loved to irritate ‘little humans’ like you.

“And here I was thinking you were being nice for once,” you said, shooting him an unimpressed look at his antics.

You could feel his smirk as he watched you, waiting for you to try to grab your laptop from him again. Instead, you waited, crossing your arms as you narrowed your eyes at the teasing bitch.

“That’s fine,” you said, beginning to turn away. “I’ll get it later.” You flipped him off over your shoulder as you walked away.

It took him only a moment to catch up with you, one arm wrapping around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest. He lowered his head against your left shoulder, holding you secure in place.

You didn’t move, waiting for him to give up the game and hand you the laptop that was still held in his other hand. He didn’t move so you reached for it. He begrudgingly let you take it, his other hand lowering to your hip instead.

You let out a little breath at the contact, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“You should come to practice.” Dew said in your ear.

“I have a lot of work to do today.” He huffed at that. You hesitated, then added.“But tomorrow I’m not as busy, so I might be able to pop in.”

Dew hummed happily at that, sliding his hands away from you as he circled around to be in front of you. He took slow steps backward, watching you.

“I’ll see you then, dearest,” he called, voice accentuating the pet name. With that, you watched as the ghoul turned down a passageway on his left, leaving you clutching your laptop alone in the hallway.

What in unholy hell had just happened?

******

You found Cirrus waiting outside your room, leaning against the doorway, a hand on her hip. Wow, she really was eager to tease you.

“Cirrus,” you greeted, your skin still tingling from your perplexing encounter with Dew. You hoped she didn’t notice. “Were you waiting for me?”

She smiled coyly as you unlocked your door, stepping inside as she followed you.

“What gave it away, dear?” Your mind instantly went to how Dew had called you dearest. Nope you were not going to think about that. “So, how was your morning?” she asked with a suggestive tone, stepping past you to lounge in your desk chair.

You placed your laptop and folders on the desk, sighing dramatically. She really was wasting no time.

“Confusing.” You slumped onto the floor in front of her, absentminded crossing your legs. You shot her an exasperated look, asking one of the questions that had been plaguing your mind all morning. “How in hell did I end up in his arms?”

Cirrus hummed in amusement, pointing a finger at you teasingly. “You crawled to him, begging for his embrace. So desperate.”

“You bitch,” you laughed, picking up the jesting tone of her voice. “I’m not the begging type.”

“Is that so?” She smirked knowingly. “I’m sure Dewdrop would have you begging on your knees for him.”

You scoffed, heat rushing to your face even as you flipped her off.

“Fuck you. It’d be the other way around anyway.”

She laughed, shifting one of her legs over the arm rest as she reclined comfortably.

“Now that, is something I would like to see.” You shuffled your legs, looking down at the floor.

“Too bad it’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “Because he isn’t going to find out. And I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“You should,” Cirrus suggested, grabbing a pen off your desk. “He was the one who joined you on the couch once you fell asleep. Must have stolen you from me when I was sleeping.”

You looked up, mouth opening a little. “Did he actually?”

She nodded, “You should see your face right now. Like a cute little lovesick puppy.”

You scowled, although it didn’t last long as your mind wandered to the fact that Dewdrop had chosen to cuddle with you last night. Then there was today’s encounter, which you were still buzzing from.

Cirrus tilted her head, spinning in her chair to look at the laptop on your desk, then sliding back to face you.

“He gave you your laptop?” A sly smile graced her lips. “How interesting. Did he give you something else as well?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling bashfully. “Dew was waiting for me when I left the Sister’s office. He was really touchy and flirty—a lot more than usual, especially with me.”

You’d seen Dew flirt shamelessly with a lot of the siblings around the clergy, and it usually ended with them spending the night together. Sure, he flirted with you as well—all the ghouls did—but it was usually fleeting comments or jokes. How he’d been today had felt more targeted.

Almost like he knew how you felt about him.

“Do you think he knows?” You asked quietly. She tapped your pen against her helmet.

“Honey, you know I promised I wouldn’t tell him.” Cirrus reassured, guessing where your mind had wandered to. “Dew can get like this sometimes. We all can. Although…”

You raised an eyebrow, heart skipping. “Although?”

Cirrus tilted her head, silent for a moment. “He seems to be taking a liking to you. And all during practice he was different. More energetic than usual.” Her voice was full of curiosity, and you wondered if the ghoulette was as confused by his actions as you were.

You felt a giddy feeling sweep through your body. Had he been like that, because of you?

“He wanted me to come watch you all practice. I said I could do it tomorrow.”

“Aw, look at you. You’re so excited right now,” Cirrus teased. You flipped her off, unable to keep the smile off your face. “He probably wants to show off for you.”

“You don’t think that he actually likes me?”

Cirrus shrugged, shooting you a sly smile. “The easiest way to find out is to just tell him…”

“Absolutely not.” You tapped your fingers against your leg. “Surely you can find out somehow? Discretely?”

Cirrus sighed, placing the pen back down on your desk. “Fine, but I don’t know why you are so against telling him. Lots of other siblings have done it and it got them a rather exciting night.”

You ran a hand through your hair, standing up and pacing. “That’s the thing, Cirrus. I don’t want to be another sibling he fucks and forgets. And I know he probably won’t be able to do that for me, which is fine. But I don’t want to get my hopes up, only to realise he isn’t interested in me the same way I am for him.”

It would be easier to just sit back and let the feelings die. But with how he was acting around you today, it had you feeling giddy, and you wanted more. Needed more. Even though you knew you shouldn’t. That it could destroy you if he didn’t want you the way you wanted him. Fuck, you were in too deep right now. You needed to stop.

But you weren’t. There was a chance. A small chance that he felt the same, an abysmally small chance that you knew you shouldn’t take. Yet you couldn’t ignore it.

You were fucking screwed.

Citrus tilted her head. “Well, he doesn’t usually put this much effort into pursuing others. And you are more than just another sibling to us. We’ve never been as close with another human before, you’re basically part of our pack. We all think that, even Dewdrop, and there’s a good chance he feels the same as you.”

You smiled shyly. “Thanks Cirrus.”

She smiled back, and you let her words sink in. They saw you as part of their pack. It warmed your heart.

Cirrus, brushed a hand along yours, pulling you gently to her as she stood up. You wrapped your arms around her, her hands sliding across your back in reassuring pats.

“You even smell like him right now,” she said distastefully, and you let out a laugh. She pulled back, releasing you.

“I have to go back to practice before Papa gets mad, and you probably have some work to be doing.”

You sighed. You did have a lot of work, to the point that you would be spending the night in your own room instead of the ghoul quarters. You didn’t need any distractions, especially if you were going to take a break tomorrow to join their practice. Part of you was disappointed, wanting to see Dew again, while another part was glad not to have to deal with the confusing and complex feelings you had for the ghoul.

Cirrus smiled on her way out, waving cutely and blowing a kiss as she closed the door.

[islandtarochips]

THE WARRIOR WITHIN (Modern Warfare I Fanfic)

Chapter Three:

“John?”

“Kate.”

“We’re online with the General from the Hawaiian base.”

“Kalani is part of this conversation now?”

“I just want an update about MY team assisting with yours, Captain.” Alana said with a strong tone. As she was making clear with Price of her concern for her soldiers.

She’s sitting in her office while talking on her laptop. Staring at the screen to see Laswell’s face and just hearing Price’s voice from the recording. “And want to make sure that they are ALIVE. Is Sergeant Blast with you?”

Hearing a soft chuckle from the British man. He responded back. “Yes. I wasn’t expecting your Sergeant to be so reckless with the bomb. Almost gave all of us a heart attack.”

“Heh. She IS full of surprises, Captain. And that’s why I chose her to go with you.”

Laswell smiled a bit seeing the General and the Captain are on good terms. “Alright, for the updates General. Alex, Aly and Aelan are already in Urzikstan to find the stolen chems.”

“Well, you’ll need the Liberation Force on their side, so have Aly contact the CO.” Price explained.

“You know Commander Karim?”

“We’re acquainted.”

The General nodded as she kept listening to this report. “How can they let the Urzikstan Liberation Force know that they’re not on the Russian’s side?”

“They can use my name. Or they’ll kill them.”

Alana scoffed at this before looking at Laswell through the screen. “Let’s hope THAT won’t happen.”

Laswell was silenced a bit as she glanced away. Don’t want to look back at the General.

General just glared at Laswell before calling back to Price. “I wish you luck, Captain. Let me know if there’s anything else that is going to happen.”

“Will do, General.”

—---------------------------------

Urzikstan

Alex, Aly and their new member of the team, Aelan. Were being escorted by the ULF soldiers into their hideout.

The three of them were quickly pushed inside before being sat down.

Aelan, the medic combat soldier, looked around seeing many soldiers were staring down at them before she leaned towards Aly and whispered. “Are you sure that these are the people that you were contacting? On our way HERE?”

“Sí. (Yes) But they are very cautious of who is coming. Since they are going against the Russians. So they’re making sure that we’re not one of those enemies.” Aly explained as she was eyeing at every soldier in the room.

“Oh greeeaaat…how wonderful.” The Medic said it sarcastically before seeing a woman walking in front. “Oh.”

The woman was staring at the three while giving a cautious look. Then she looked at Alex who was sitting in between the two ladies. “What is your message from Captain Price?”

Alex was just looking up at the Commander before lightly speaking. “Commander Karim. Call me Alex.”

“I’m listening, Alex.”

Alex was silenced a bit as he looked at the soldiers around. And then looked back at the Commander. “This is classified…”

Farah stared at Alex for a bit before glancing at the two ladies. “With these two?”

“These are my allies. They go where I go. So they’re ok.” Alex explained as he looked at Aly and Aelan side to side before looking back at the Commander.

Farah was silenced before speaking to her men. “Adhhabuu ya 'abna' aleumumati, astaeaduu. (Go cousins, get ready)”

The soldiers slowly walked out while staring at the three strangers. And closed the door, leaving them alone.

Farah leaned forward while placing both of her hands on the table. Looking at Alex, waiting for him to speak.

“Forty-eight hours ago, terrorists stole a shipment of Russian gas.” He explained.

“Only Al-Qatala would do this.”

Aelan and Aly watched Alex stand up as he went around the table. “The Russians make no distinction between Al-Qatala and your people.”

“And I make no distinction between the Al-Qatala and the Russian Army. They are BOTH terrorists. We would NEVER use these poisons.”

Aly then started to speak while looking at Farah. “Then help us track it down, before they-”

“Before they what? Take it to Europe? Or America?” The Commander spoke as she looked down at Aly, who was still sitting on her seat. And scoffed a bit. “We live like this EVERYDAY.”

Before Aly could speak more. They all saw a man walking in with a gun in his hands.

“Commander, it’s time to go.” The man paused to see three newcomers in the room. He looked at Alex first then at Aelan and then at Aly. “...who are these people?”

Farah sighed as she wasn’t expecting him to come in like this. “Alex, this is my brother and lieutenant, Hadir.”

The Lieutenant, who is named Hadir, slowly walked around the table. Walking up to Alex as he was looking at him up and down. Inspecting him. “You are CIA?”

“He works with Captain Price.” Farah answered before seeing her brother smiling at Alex. Looking impressed to hear that familiar name.

“Then you kill Russians, yes?”

Alex looked at Hadir who was walking around him. “I have friends who can help us. These two are one of my friends.”

Hadir looked at Aly and Aelan. “Oh.”

Aly introduced herself first as she stood up and smiled at Hadir. “I’m Special Officer Alyssa Martinez. But you can call me, Aly.” She put her hand out to Hadir with a respected smile.

Hadir stared at Aly’s hand and then back at her face.

Aelan kept her eyes on Hadir, making sure he didn't do anything to her.

Hadir started to take her hand and shook on it while giving her a respected nod. “Nice to meet you, Aly. And you?” He asked Aelan as he looked at the medic woman.

Aelan slowly stood up and looked at him. “Aelan Kalani. I’m a Medic Combat.”

“Medic Combat?” Hadir looked surprised to see one here in this dangerous war.

Aly nodded as she smiled at the Commander and the Lieutenant. “Yes! She’s really good at patching injuries! And she can fight!”

Hadir and Farah looked at Aelan as she nodded at the two.

“It’s true. I can help.” Aelan said while crossing her arms.

The Lieutenant and the Commander looked at each other before she nodded at him. Farah then walked up to the table where the map was at.

“This occupation must end. That we can all agree on, yes?”

Hadir nodded at his sister before Aly, Aelan and Alex also nodded with agreement.

Farah started to explain about Barkov’s men moving into the city and telling the three that if they stay. They’ll help them. But if they stay…they need to FIGHT.

Alex nodded. “Thuma daeuna nuqatil. (Then let’s fight)”

Aelan and Aly agreed as they are ready to fight against the enemies.

Hadir then tosses a gun at Alex. “Mrhban bik fi 'uwrzikistan, Aleks. (Welcome to Urzikstan, Alex.)” Then he looked at Aly and Aelan. “Same for you two. I’ll give you guns once we’re out.”

“Alright, thank you.” Aly said as she appreciates Hadir's offer.

Aelan also nodded before they all followed Farah out of the building.

—------------------------------

Aqtabi, Urzikstan

Farah had lit a candle that sparks up the color red. They are in a tunnel. The tunnel that is Urzikstan's life-line. That’s what the Commander had said.

She led the way while explaining to the CIA agents and the medic. Saying that they need to distract the Russians in order for them to ambush the Troop Commanders.

How? They ask.

“Explosives.” Hadir answered.

“Explosives? That’ll get their attention. Should’ve brought Blast with me.” Aelan said with a chuckle.

Hadir looked at the Medic with a small smile. “Does your friend like explosives?”

“OBSESSED with it, actually. She’s also good at making bombs out of scratch.”

“Very interesting. We should use someone like her.” Farah said as she kept walking until she got to the ladder. Before turning around and giving Hadir the candle as she looked at Alex. “Alex. You’re with me. While your two friends help my brother to prepare for the airbase attack.”

Alex looked at Aly and Aelan as he could see them looking a bit worried. “I’ll be fine, ladies. Just go with Hadir and help him as much as you can.” He reassured them while giving them a smile.

Aelan sighed as she nodded and so did Aly.

Hadir said stay safe to his sister before looking at Alex as he handed him something. “Alex, take these charges. C4 with a remote detonator.”

Alex took it before nodding at Hadir and started following Farah up on the ladder.

The Lieutenant saw the two are gone before he looked at Aelan and Aly. “Come with me.” He walked ahead leading the two women out of the tunnel.

“So, Aly. Aelan. Have you experienced these kinds of battles before?” Hadir asked while glancing at the two.

Aly thought about it as she looked at Hadir. “Only ONCE and I nearly got myself hurt when I was helping my team.”

“Oh? You must be very brave.”

Aly giggled. “Well, they just say that I’m reckless. Which they are not wrong though.”

Aelan chuckled a bit at Aly’s response before hearing Hadir asking about herself going into battle. “Once as well. It was in Afghanistan. Been helping out to patch the people up for two years now.”

Hadir stopped as he turned around to look at Aelan. “Afghanistan? For two years? You must be very dedicated with your work.”

The Medic nodded as she smiled with great pride. “Yeah. It is my job to keep them alive and in good shape.”

Then Aly hugged Aelan’s arm. “And that’s why she’s with us! And we were so happy to have her on our team!”

Aelan smiled a little while Hadir chuckled softly before leading them out of the tunnel.

“My sister will let us know once they planted the explosives into one of the Russian’s vehicles and I’m sure that they’ll definitely get distracted.” Hadir explained along the way as they headed over to the camp. Where the rest of the soldiers are waiting.

Once the three had made it to the camp. Hadir had talked to one of the soldiers to get ready for the attack on the airbase.

They nodded and quickly went to prepare for it.

Then he turned around to look at the two ladies. “I’ll be packing everything. You two can head towards that tent and I’ll explain what I had planned.”

They both nodded before Hadir looked at Aelan with a small smile before he left.

Aelan suddenly finds it strange how Hadir gave her that smile. 

Then she saw Aly giving her that weird expression on her face. “What?”

She giggles as she gives the medic a grin. “He seems to like you~” She cooed teasingly at her.

Aelan just rolled her eyes. Knowing of what this little miss Agent is thinking about. “This is not a high school romance drama, Aly. And also, we JUST met. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“Oh come on! He just SMILED at you!” Aly said as she started to follow Aelan. “Did you not see that?”

“Yes. I saw it. But like I said, this isn’t like some kind of movie.”

“But don’t you wish for that to happen?”

“That’s you. Have you been reading romance books on our way here?”

“Oh caray! (Oh shoosh!) I wasn’t!”

The two chuckled at each other before heading inside in one of the tents.

—--------------------------------

After Farah and Alex had finished their part of the mission and quickly headed back to the base. Where everyone is preparing for the ambush.

Hadir starts to explain his plan with Alex while Aly and Aelan are with Farah on top of the roof.

Aly was looking through her screen with the drone released. Just to see how many Russian soldiers that are ready for their battle. “Seems quite a lot.”

Farah hummed in response while looking through her binoculars. “Indeed. Good thing you brought your technology.” The Commander said with great faze before looking at Aly. “Are you sure that your drone won’t be spotted?”

The CIA Agent gave her a grin. “This drone won’t get caught by their detecting device but it WILL be seen if I get too close. So we’re good.”

Aelan was standing behind Aly, crossing her arms as she looked at the screen. “Huh. Impressive. Good thing we have our brain operator here with this kind of device.” She said with a small smile while nudging Aly.

Aly smiled back at Aelan’s response. Even Farah gave the same smile to the two.

Before seeing one of her cousins was about to set up an airplane-like kind of device. She tapped on Aly’s shoulder. “Pull your drone back. We’re about to set a launch.”

Aly nodded as she started to draw her drone away before Aelan saw Hadir and Alex coming upstairs.

“Barkov has an air force, so we have one too.” Hadir said to Alex before seeing his cousin already threw the plane. “RC planes loaded with C-4!”

Alex, Aelan and Aly watched the plane fly up as it headed to the base where the Russians were at.

“Alex, grabbed the tablet. You, the others and I are going to control the plane to head into the base.” Hadir explained as he watched Alex heading to the table and grabbing one.

“Are we ready?” Farah asked while still staring at the base that was in front of her.

Hadir nodded at his sister. “Yes, commander. Let’s fly.” 

They have already started to fly their planes into Barkov’s base and already make an explosion. From every corner. The UFL cheered and yelled in dominance as they already raided through the gates and did their best to get in.

Everyone had run through the gates. Aly has to stay behind but will still be behind coms. Using her drone to be their eyes “Be careful you guys! Alex’s friends are on their way for fire support! Good luck!”

“Same to you, Aly.” Aelan said.

She is with Hadir. Assisting him to get into the main building in the base to get to the armory room. Along with Alex and Farah. She stayed outside with some of Commander’s men to stay in front while they went in. 

Aelan also made sure that Farah’s soldiers were patched up if she saw any of them getting hurt.

They saw how fast she could fix their wounds. Even during a firefight.

Soon after, one of Alex’s friends had flown in with their plane. Supporting them as they shot down the enemy's vehicles that was on their way to the base.

Everything was going as planned as they continue to fight.

And in the end, they have won. Barkov’s base.

“Is everyone alright? No one got hurt?” Aly asked through the coms as she felt a bit worried.

Alex started to answer. “Everyone is alright, Aly. Well, most of them. But thanks to Dr. Kalani’s patching skills. They’ll be fine until we take them back.”

Aly sighed in relief to hear that they’re okay. 

Hadir walked over to Aelan who is helping one of the ULF soldiers fixing their leg. And she let the others take them away gently.

“You are quite fast, Doctor. I’m impressed.” Hadir said with a small smile.

Aelan stood up while dusting her hands off. And grabbing her gun before looking at him. “It is my job, Lieutenant.” She walked over while looking at him up and down. “And you’re not injured, are you?”

Hadir chuckled a bit. “Not really. But even if I was, would you accept to assist me?”

“Heh. If it’s a small scratch, I’m sure you’re a big boy to handle it.”

“Oh ouch, doctor.”

The two heard someone coughing to grab their attention.

They both look to see Farah and Alex standing at the exit, waiting for them.

“Are you two done, brother? The others are waiting.” Farah said as she raised one eyebrow while grinning at her older brother.

Alex was just standing there smiling to see the two.

Hadir coughed a bit, feeling embarrassed as he smiled at Aelan.

She nodded at him before the two walked over.

“Don’t jump into conclusion huh?~” Aly was teasing at Aelan through the coms. Seeing through her drone.

The Doctor looked up to see the drone before flipping her finger at it. Causing the CIA Agent to giggle.

And the battle against Barkov's soldiers is done. But the war is still going on and time is running out. All they could do is wait for Price and the others to give them answers of where to strike next.

To Be Continued...

<- Chapter Two

Start from Chapter One

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Words: 2776

Characters:

Alyssa "Aly" Martinez (Later be Price) -> @alypink

Dr. Aelan Kalani -> Me

Tagging: @welldonekhushi @sleepyconfusedpotato

@deeptrashwitch @sweet-samnang @justasmolbard

@revnah1406 @kaitaiga

[shadowriel]

For Research Purposes Only

STEMinist Gwynriel is back (and better than ever)! Writing them again feels like coming back home, and I can’t wait for those following this journey to read what’s next.

Summary: Gwyn has been mutual friends with Azriel for almost a year, yet they've only ever shared stolen glances and minimal conversation. With a wedding around the corner, the two rope themselves into a fake relationship and agree to be each other's dates. Set across a backdrop of wedding shenanigans and grad school work, Gwyn finds herself wanting more. But Azriel can't possibly be falling for her - right?

Chapter 38 - Penny for Your Thoughts

Read here on AO3 (or start from Chapter 1)

Read a snippet below:

Gwyn had always found solace in music — in the sensual hum of violins, in singing. Even now, as she finished her work, a familiar song played softly from the speakers of her laptop, filling the empty space of her lab, replacing the constant chatter and whirring machines that sounded during the day.

She almost couldn't recall how much time had passed, only that it felt like mere seconds since all her lab mates had left for the evening. In all that time, her playlist looped from song to song, controlled breaths moving past Gwyn’s lips as she sang. Until the sun dipped low in the sky, and she found herself done with each task on her mental to-do list.

Except one.

Hurried steps led her up the stairwell on the far side of the building, the pattering of her movements echoing in the stark silence now that she’d left her laptop behind. She’d been up to the fifth floor countless times before — to attend meetings, to borrow reagents, to poke her nose in Azriel’s business — so the route was familiar as she walked past empty work stations and computers shut down for the night.

She wasn’t surprised to find Azriel cloaked in semi-darkness. Only the faint blue-light of his computer screen painted his features as he sat at his desk, his body half-turned from her in a way that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders, the curve of his lips, the prominent shape of his nose. His fingers tracked along his keyboard as he typed, the movement almost as fast as Gwyn’s rapidly beating heart.

Wordlessly, as if pulled in by gravity, she moved towards him. One step, then another, until she found herself leaning down and reaching her arms around Azriel. She hugged him close against her and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

His only reaction was a slow inhale, the fluttering of his eyes shut as he settled back against her. All Gwyn could do was stare at the soft glow of his bronze skin, the way he seemed so comfortable in her arms that she could almost picture it — them together, day after day, right here like this.

The thought made her wrap her arms more tightly around him.

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @headcanonheadcase @foundress0fnothing @sv0430 @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @trashforazriel @sunshinebingo

[chainelunaire]

random lov headcanons pt.2

(bc @ermnmika with their post reminded me i have some unfinished business so thank you for that and for credit!)

(i’m gonna do the rest + hawks in the next post)

pt. 1

toga

- she is highly interested in fashion. she has no money for a laptop or even a decent phone, and it’s dangerous anyway because they might get tracked down. so it’s only stolen magazines she learns from. she’s always two steps behind, but her imagination is what is truly inspiring.

- very organized. has a very strict schedule. hates it when it’s noisy in a hideout and she needs to go to bed. toga is a morning person. literally everybody in the league is not, so they hate her for it, but it’s not her fault they stay till like 4 in the night. 

- her room is second cleanest of all members, first one being kurogiri’s room.

- is very athlethic. one of the most physically strong members of the league, even if it doesn’t look like it. not only is she flexible, she also has great stamina.

- toga hates coffee. not a fan of tea either, but coffee is like her personal enemy. she hates the taste of it with passion, and she finds the smell sickening. repeats often how unhealthy it is, usually to dabi or compress, who consume it in a truly unhealthy amount, so she’s kinda right. she likes juices though, pomegrante one is her favourite.

- she’s not at all bubbly and optimistic. quite the opposite: she’s very calculated, realistic and vindictive. if you do something bad to her, she’ll wait until it’s just the right time to get her revenge. she’s like that because her life on the streets before league was not easy to say the least. she had pretty bad childhood and she’s in her teens now. it’s not that she only pretends to be that smiley happy girl. she now often is happy. she wants to smile not because of the excitement or to intimidate somebody, but because she kind of really wants to.

- she can make injections. it’s sort of obvious, but she’s really the best when someone needs some meds for a fever. compress can do them too, any of them can if needed, but she’s just the quickest and does them painlessly. she’s also good in medicating others. like she knows a lot, and it’s usually her who takes care of a sick member.

- very patient. to an enormous degree. because of her past on the streets, when she needed to be as cool headed as possible, she stays calm even when others are freaking out or want to go berserk. she needs a lot to get truly angry. so if she gets angry, there’s no way to escape. there will be blооd, and she doesn’t care if it’s midorya, stain or even shigaraki himself. like, don’t piss her off. just don’t.

- her love languages are gift giving and quality time. she likes to make small gifts and hand them to members for no reason. she can also like just sit near somebody silently and it won’t feel awkward. she has very calming presence and she likes to spend her time with her loved ones. she bonds through doing little stupid thing, like painting shigaraki’s nails or reading to twice. it’s very meaningful to her.

- she plays guitar. she’s very good at it actually, but she thinks she has no voice, and is very shy to sing. she can do even the most complicated chords, because of the constant training. together with dabi they work very well, with him singing and her accompanying. 

- despite her young age, she was kurogiri’s right hand, when he was still with the league and in charge. she’s that dependable and organized. shigaraki values her opinions on missions a lot too.

- hates flowers. not great with plants, everything dies slowly and painfully. animals are scared of her too. she always says it doesn’t offend her. it does.

- she’s surprisingly not touchy, at all. if you try to hug her, she’ll probably dodge and will ghost you for the rest of the day. she has huge trust issues, even though they might be not so obvious. you need to be her friend for her to trust you fully. she’s fine with hugging lov members or dreaming about hugging izuku or ochako. otherwise, she doesn’t like it. don’t touch her.

twice

- that one “movie nights!” enthusiast. literally everybody except him hate those stupid movies, pointing even the smallest mistakes (dabi) whining about how it’s all a lie (spinner) or just straight up leaving (shigaraki). toga, hawks and compress are the ones who usually stay.

- enjoys going out, but does not drink, ever. dabi, toga and shigaraki know why and never press. that one time when he relapsed was right after magne’s death, and he was not a fan. so they even help him when he thinks he wants to. they’re usually near to stop him.

- you can’t gaslight him because his memory span is as long as of a goldfish. he’ll agree with anything. he has low expectations of himself anyway. 

- wants to learn how to play drums. he sort of does, using his doubles, but the result is disasterous. sometimes he jokes they could form a band, consisting of toga, compress and dabi, and this being their sort of lawful life. literally nobody laughs.

- after his fuck-up with overhaul he asked shigaraki to dust his body if he dies. it’s sort of his last wish, to be close to those who he loved.

- he hates the cold weather and rains and such. he’s suffering from migraines, since they depend highly on weather. he’s not available on those days. 

- likes to hear shigaraki or toga read to him. he actually has huge problems with reading, it’s just hard for him. he also likes to listen to their voices. it relaxes him.

- every one of them has nightmares, but his are arguably the worst, because he has troubles with distinguishing them from reality. few times he attacked shigaraki and dabi, because he thought he was still dreaming and they wanted to erase him. he’s very afraid they all hate him (they do not) so it translates straight into his nightmares.

- because of his doubles, he’s usually the one who cleans the whole hideout, under dabi’s command.

- he never was on a date. unlike others, he sort of wants to. he wants this parts of “normal” life he never had. it stings, that there were never a person that truly liked him for being him. he’s very afraid of being alone and dying alone. 

- his favourite people to spend time with are toga and hawks. separately, because toga does not like hawks, even though she hides it very well. 

spinner

- he can understand english and even speak a bit, because of how many games he played. his vocabulary is rather poor. and from 2000s.

- doesn’t believe in medicine in his department. he thinks because of his lizard quirk his body should be able to heal on it’s own. in reality, it’s just his one huge insecurity, being that he was told not only his quirck is useless, but he’s also ugly. he pisses toga off to no end with this, not letting her checking on him. he really wants to be as cool and edgy as dabi and shigaraki, so he does this sort of thing.

- he adores warmth, so he’d be near dabi’s side constantly, if not for his death wishes. so he stole a heater and is still pissed about it.

- literally every one of them except dabi stole that heater from his room at least once.

- he’s the best with any electronic devices. he can repair anything with a fork. if you ask him how he did that, he won’t answer. he himself doesn’t know. it just kinda works.

- he can smell with his tongue.

- if he’s not in his room, he’s probably in shigaraki’s room. if he’s not in shigaraki’s room, he’s on a hunch for new games to play wih shigaraki. he spends most of his time in his room, even though they like different kinds of games they always play together.

- his room is second messiest, next to shigaraki’s room. kurogiri often told them to clean it. they didn’t listen. then it's dabi’s turn, and after he’d almost burned their shit alltogether, they usually clean together too.

- he can live with no water bc of his lizard anatomy. well, he still needs it, it’s just that unlike others he can go without it for months while being completely fine. 

- he dislikes music in itself, it’s too hard on his ears. he likes the singing parts tho.

- he is kinda the cook of the group, so no surprise he knows who loves what. he knows about the allergies too. he tries his best, but they hate his dishes anyway. when he says and he’s done, do yourselves, they start to whine. it’s hilarious. 

- he too asked shigaraki to dust his body if he dies. shigaraki is honestly so done with them by this point.

- he can sort of breath under water. he likes water and sand and summer in general. he also swims very fast, like very.

[fairyhaos]

hey, fun fact! lola nena's (en: grandma nena's) is a popular dessert/pastry/bread branch all over the philippines. i like their pichi-pichi.

anyways, hi nenas !! miss you, just wanted to pop in for a little. haven't been in your ask box for a while (literally thought ur laptop got stolen), too

i've been doing okay these days, before u ask. if i ignore the coughing, i am like. literally passively medidating, i'm in my Zone™. the8 would be proud of me. and bc of that, weiwei has been wanting to write since i recently learned how to make some BANGER headers !! wonder if you can find the account 🫡 /silly

hope you've been doing well ... if there've been some meanies, i WILL sucker punch them to pluto 💪 drink water, eat good food, and just go with ur flow ^^ yayyyyyy

; 🌂

hihi wei ^0^ stop that's so sweet actually (heheh "sweet" like compliment but also like pastries,,, do u get it) and i wanna try pichi pichi now fr it looks soooo yum

i miss u too <///3 haven't been as active here as i hoped bc man who knew that rambling to the internet actually drains u ??? also ive been weirdlyyy busy w seeing friends and attending events but now my laptop is back ill try to b here more often >u<

oh em gee you're meditating?? that sounds fun ngl but why are u coughing what happened :(( glad that you're having fun with banners thoo and stop im literally so bad at tracking mewtuals' sideblogs so like,, unless u yell it in my face then it'll literally be lost to the void 😭

have fun with writing tho and if u ever want help them im literally just right here!!! take care of urself too pooks and let's talk moreee <33

[the-heros-sidekick]

A WEEKEND AT THE OVERLOOK HOTEL.

Do you dare to check in? 🛎️

The infamous Overlook Hotel, nestled in the isolated Colorado Rockies, has a dark and mysterious history. Known for its eerie atmosphere and paranormal activity, the hotel has attracted visitors looking for a thrilling experience. This weekend, a group of individuals, each with their own reasons, has checked in. As night falls, strange occurrences begin to happen, turning a weekend getaway into a nightmare. ⸻ imagine yourself in the situation and create your character as they are trapped in a horror movie come true. bonus: get your creative juices flowing and write a oneshot. what happened before the picture? where is your character headed now? are they searching for their friends/the people that arrived with them or are they investigating something different entirely? what else is lurking amongst the shadows?

“It’s gonna be fun!” That’s how Stiles had pitched the idea for Scott’s birthday celebration to three very unimpressed faces, staring back at him unblinkingly from their little squares on his computer screen. As usual, their lack of excitement only tripled his own, and he’d really gone in to sell it then. “We’ll get the whole band back together, you know, just like the good old times! Come on, Scott, you only turn 27 once! And what better way to celebrate that than by visiting one of the most haunted hotels in America?” Even through the grainy pixels of their Skype connection, there was no missing the way Lydia rolled her eyes at the prospect. Realizing that he was getting dangerously close to seeing his hopes dashed, Stiles glanced over at Derek, eyebrows raised with the unspoken question of ‘Well, aren’t you gonna come to my rescue?’ Derek looked back at him with the sort of fond exasperation only reserved for Stiles, then sighed as he turned towards the camera. “It’d be nice to see everyone again. It’s been ages since we’ve actually talked to each other without all this,” He said, pointedly gesturing towards the laptop that Stiles had propped up on their kitchen table. “And besides, we all know the place isn’t actually haunted, right?”

✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢

They’d arrived in Colorado late, the sunset painting the sky in shades of orange and cotton candy-pink. The location itself was nothing short of spectacular: Nestled in the valley between snow-capped mountains, the Overlook Hotel’s dark silhouette stood in stark contrast against the backdrop of the sinking sun, emitting an atmosphere of eerie stillness. While Derek carried in their luggage from the car, the rest of the group had been tasked with just one thing: Waiting in the lobby for his return. But ever since he’d set foot into the hotel, Stiles had been itching to explore. The air felt thick, shrouded in secrets and mystery, seemingly calling upon curious minds like his. The hotel was inviting him, and Stiles couldn’t possibly resist its call. So while Lydia, Scott and Malia had been immersed in conversation and Derek had returned to the car to retrieve the last of their bags, Stiles had quietly stolen away, casting all caution aside as he slipped through one of the heavy wooden doors.

It’s yet another string of questionable decisions that has led him here, wandering down one of countless corridors alone, his trusted bat swung over one shoulder while a set of keys dangles from his right hand: Room 237. Stiles’ gaze shifts from the key in his hand to the doors that are strung together, one by one, leading off to both sides of the corridor he’s chosen to walk down—none of which have the signature numbers painted on them. “That’s… weird,” He mutters to himself, brow crinkling in confusion. Did he seriously manage to pick the one corridor that holds no actual guest rooms? Considering his track record of bad luck, he wouldn’t even be surprised. Whipsawed by the hope of finding their room further down the corridor, Stiles takes a few more steps before stopping dead in his tracks, a chill creeping up his spine.

He didn’t notice right away, mind probably too fogged by confusion, but realization is slowly dawning on him now. Up until a second ago, the sound of his footsteps on the creaking floorboards had been drowned out by the lively chatter of Scott and Malia. He couldn’t have walked more than a few feet down the corridor, so logically he should still be within hearing range of them. But suddenly the corridor lies in complete silence around him, no sound reaching his ears.

Something is not right. Regret twinges in Stiles’ gut as his heart leaps in his chest, revolting against the constraint of his ribcage that’s keeping it trapped inside Stiles’ body.

Clutching the handle of his bat in a white-knuckled grip, Stiles slowly turns, muscles strung tight, ready to snap at any given moment. He didn’t walk far down the corridor, he knows that for a fact, and yet as he turns, looking back, it stretches on as far as Stiles can see and beyond. The corridor seems endless, expanding for miles before his eyes and Stiles feels lost, swallowed up by negative space. He spins around, expecting to find the end of the corridor in the opposite direction but there’s just more of the same: Dark tinted walls, closed, unnumbered doors and an infinite expanse of corridor.

Despite the never-ending space, Stiles feels claustrophobic. It doesn’t seem to matter whether he turns back or continues moving forward—there’s nowhere for him to go. No possible escape in either direction. He’s trapped. The bat nearly slips from his grip, bone-crushing fear dampening his palms. Acting upon a split-second decision, he opts to turn back nevertheless, deeming it the only viable option. Somewhere back there he knows his friends to be, knows Derek to be, and if there’s one person in the world he trusts to always find him, no matter the odds, it’s Derek.

Stiles just about manages to shift his body back in the direction that he came from before a new wave of fear roots him to the spot. About ten feet in front of him, something is emerging from the shadows, the air moving as Stiles watches, eyes widened in horror, as two silhouettes manifest seemingly out of thin air. The sight of them is blurry at first and Stiles has to strain his eyes to see but their appearance takes on shape eventually: Twin girls, both dressed in the same teal-colored dress with matching knee-high socks, their blonde hair flowing just past their shoulders.

This can’t be happening, Stiles thinks, naively hoping that any moment now, this will reveal itself to be just another nightmare. The girls take a step towards him, their limbs moving in eerie unison, robot-like, like they’re puppets and someone else is moving their strings. As a flicker of light hits their faces and reflects off two pairs of black, soulless eyes, panic renders Stiles unable to think anything other than ‘demons’ before both girls slowly tilt their heads like part of a perfectly synchronized dance, and two identical voices ask, hauntingly sweet, “Do you wanna play with us?”

The key slipping from Stiles’ grip doesn’t register anymore. He shakes his head no, shakes it until the corridor is spinning around him and begs his legs into doing his bidding, pleads with them to carry him away instead of keeping him stuck here, feet dug in the carpet. A scream rises from his chest, claws its way out of his throat and yet when he opens his mouth, no sound comes out. Stiles himself has become part of the hotel’s stifling silence, robbed of his voice. Control of his body is slipping from him, too, as his feet start moving on their own volition—towards the twins instead of away from them. Some force is pulling at Stiles, drawing him into their reach where they await him with twisted, joyless grins and abysmally, hungry eyes.

tagged by: @vasted (you’re the real MVP !!)

tagging: @theallegedsourwolf @tinyactress @farbfaser @fri-luftsliv @crimelrd @hochmvt @belmontkepler @nepnthc

[scholastic-dragon]

Flufftober Day 7: Movie Marathon

Donatello x Fem!reader

Am I projecting in this story....yes no

Is this my dream?... also yes no

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: nerds in love, turtle snuggles, the author is too obsessed with Star Wars, kissing and smootches, first 'I loves you', spelling mistakes,

Summary: you and Donnie binge watch Star Wars: Empire Strikes Back

"Donnie hurry up!"

"I'm getting the snacks you-"

"I'll start it without you!" You scream from his room, staring at your laptop, clicking it to the right streaming service.

You hear his footsteps barrel through the lair, throwing open his door, arms full of all the snacks you asked for.

He closed the door behind him, panting softly and bringing the cluster of snacks to his bed.

He wanted to be mad that you'd made him get all the snacks, made him undo his made bed, stolen his favorite Star Wars pajamas, and yelled at him to hurry up, but seeing you all snuggled up in his blankets dissolved any anger he felt.

Setting the snacks in the center of the bed, he crawled in, leaning against your side.

"What one are we on now?" He asked, pulling the comforter up.

"Empire Strikes Back," You glance at him, he'd been working so hard lately on new updates to the truck and having to add in a new tracking and security system to the lair, it stressed him out for weeks. Finally, he finished it all and Leo (along with Mikey and Raph) allowed Donnie to have the weekend off so he didn't have a brain meltdown.

He didn't have his mask or head gear on, he had soft sweatpants on and had all his normal gear piled up in the corner. He was relaxed, actually relaxed.

Glad to finally have him all to yourself for several days, you suggested the one thing you knew would keep him relaxed and in your arms.

Star Wars Movie Marathon.

"Love?" He snapped his fingers, jumping you slightly.

"What?" You'd been smiling and staring at him for that little bit too long.

"You kinda zoned out there," He laughed, licking his lips. "You back with me?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah," You laugh, getting on Disney+ and putting on the movie.

You and Donnie snuggled down into the bed, Donnie propped up with some pillows, you curled into his side with the laptop in his lap.

For the first part you sat in silence, absorbed into the movie, munching on snacks and sneaking kisses.

The movie reached its hour mark.

"This is my favorite part," You whisper, patting his chest.

It was when Princess Leia was helping fix the Milieuim Falcon and Han started talking with her. She hurt her finger and he gently took her hand and started to massage it to make her feel better.

"This part?" He murmurs into your hairline.

"Yeah, I'm a sucker for the 'you're trembling' trope, it's my biggest guilty pleasure," Your eyes never leave the screen, feeling your cheeks turn pink.

Donnie simply hummed in acknowledgment, rubbing the hand around you up and down along your spine.

The movie continues, Han commenting on how bad Leia was trembling before kissing her, then getting interrupted by C3PO.

"If we were ever working on something together, and I hurt my hand, I expect you to rub the pain away like Han did," You lift your chin, still resting against his chest. He glances down at you, lips curved into a soft smile.

"Should I also comment on how you're trembling?" An idea formed in Donnie's mind, he had to see what you would say.

"Yes, absolutely," You nod, giggling and looking back to the movie. Donnie didn't look away.

"And, obviously changing gender stereotypes, if I were to say I love you,"

"I would say, 'I know'" You laugh, making your voice deeper to mimic Han, completely oblivious to what Donnie actually was implying. "Obviously I would say it, it's the most iconic line from the Originals,"

"Say what?"

You looked up at him again, raising a brow. "I would say 'I know' like Han did,"

"What would you say 'I know' too?" Donnie had a mischievous smile on his face, hazel eyes bright, the movie reflecting in his glasses.

"I love you," You make a confused face, wondering what Donnie was getting at.

"I love you too," Donnie chuckles at your wide eyes, the now red flush on your cheeks.

You opened and closed your mouth several times, completely speechless. Donnie never made any of the moves in the relationship, he let you because he was terrified he'd overstep a boundary.

You'd asked him out. You initiated the first kiss. The first sleepover? Your idea. Where had this sudden confidence come from?

In the midst of your brain shutting down, the only thing you could stutter out was. "Really?"

He nods, taking off his glasses and setting them on his nightstand. Scootching down in bed he comes to eye level with you, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I do, I love you," He mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I love you too," You smile, cupping his scaled cheek and kissing him. His face was warm, he was clearly very flustered and hoping you'd react this way.

After a few more stolen kisses, you both turn back to the movie. Eating half the snacks and with Donnie's arms tightly around you, you started to lull to sleep.

"Tired, love?" Donnie chuckled, eating a chocolate pretzel.

"Mmmm-no," You slur, cheek pressed against his plastron. "Just closing my eyes,"

"You can't watch the movie with your eyes closed,"

"I've seen it a bunch, it's fine, I'm just gonna take a 30 minute nap,"

He laughs again, pressing three kisses to your forehead, eating his ridiculously loud pretzels and watching the movie.

Just before you dozed off into sleep, you tapped Donnie's chest. "I love you, baby, you're the Han Solo to my Princess Leia,"

Donnie hums, glad his green skin wouldn't let him turn bright red. He kissed the top of your head, nuzzling your hairline with his nose.

"I know,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @flufftober @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @strawberrycakeblog @mysticboombox

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Kinktober Day 27 - Forniphilia

Pairing: Marcus Pike x named f!Reader

Rating: E (explicit smut 18+ only!)

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: H-human furniture?! (forniphilia), BDSM vibes, very sexy art exhibitions, descriptions of (naked) bodies, D/s dynamics, sub!Marcus, Marcus needs A Fucking Break, Feelings? In my BDSM fic? it's more likely thank you think.

Summary: Marcus’s latest case brings him to a small, niche art exhibition to interview an artist whose gallery of explicit art had recently been stolen and defaced. The exhibition awakens something in him that he did not expect. 

A/N: @absurdthirst, this prompt HAUNTED me until I had to come up with some sort of idea because this was just too fun not to try. THANK YOU for the titillating Prompt List! Thank also you to @leslie-lyman, @honestly-shite, and @pedropascalsx who heard so much about this prompt that they probably don't even need to read this, it's already ingrained in their brains from how many times I've talked about it. I love you all, thank you for enabling me.

Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

That's it, Marcus thinks. This job is going to kill him.

He had always thought that it would be a bullet that took him down, but, as he stands in this little art gallery, he wonders if one can actually die of mortification. 

This case had already turned more than a few heads at the office. An artist's studio had been broken into, nearly all of her collection either stolen or defaced. The few paintings that had been left behind had made their way to Marcus's office, all splashed with accusations in brilliant vermillion. Whore. Filth. Pervert. The paintings themselves are beautiful, detailed, and masterful in their technique. They’re also incredibly explicit.

More than one visitor to Marcus’s office has stopped dead in their tracks and stared. Marcus, for his part, had been getting used to staring at a wall of cocks and vaginas as he had worked at his desk, but now he wishes that had been the extent of his discomfort. 

Marcus is supposed to be interviewing the artist whose entire collection had been destroyed tonight. He had been told that they were busy, at a friend’s exhibition, but Marcus had readily agreed to an interview at the small gallery, thinking it would be a nice, quiet place to talk to them about the case. 

He should have asked what kind of exhibition.

Marcus tries to keep his eyes pointed straight ahead, not letting his gaze focus on any of the… art. When he had first walked in, he had been gobsmacked by the sight: bodies–naked bodies, everywhere. A nude woman, balancing a lamp on their back, providing light for a fully clothed man reading nearby. Another man, apparently being used as a chair. Marcus had barely been able to keep a straight face, his cheeks turning bright red as he cast his eyes around in alarm, finding the title of the exhibition on the wall. Forniphilia: The Eroticism of the Inanimate.

Marcus awkwardly strolls through the gallery, looking for someone who might be the artist he’s looking for. All he has is a name, which makes it difficult. He scans the various guests, feeling too off-balance to approach anyone. Before he can gather up the courage to ask, someone beats him to the punch.

“You look lost,” a sultry, feminine voice calls out to him from his right. Schooling his face into something he hopes resembles a normal expression, he turns to look.

A beautiful woman looks back at him with an amused smirk on her face. She’s dressed smartly, in a businesslike pencil skirt and white dress shirt, typing on a laptop. She just so happens to be surrounded by naked men on their knees. One, she’s using as a desk for her laptop, another for a footstool. Yet another is holding a cup of coffee on his back. The last, she’s sitting on, using him as a chair. 

“I’m looking for Jacqueline Conrad,” Marcus says, ignoring the heat on his face. “My name is Special Agent Pike, I’m supposed to be interviewing her about a theft that occurred at her gallery last week.”

“Special Agent Pike,” the woman drawls, dragging out every syllable. “How nice of you to stop by the exhibition.”

“I was told she’d be here,” Marcus continues,  making a point to stare at the woman's forehead, and only her forehead. 

"I'll tell you where Jaqueline is if you tell me something, first," the woman says coyly.

"Sure," Marcus agrees, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible before his eyes run the risk of wandering. His cock is inexplicably half-hard in his pants, the sight before him far more erotic than it has any business being. He needs to go on a fucking date, or something, Marcus thinks to himself. He’s way too tightly wound if weird performance art is turning him on. 

"Do you like what you see, Agent Pike?" the woman asks with a knowing glint in her eye. 

Fuck. Marcus feigns ignorance. “As a lover of art, I understand that it takes on different forms for different people,” he answers diplomatically. 

“Look at you,” the woman croons. “A Fed with a brain.” She smiles, showing all of her teeth. “But spare me the party line, Agent. Tell me, do you like it?”

Marcus cocks his head to the side, considering. “I think,” he begins carefully, “that anyone would be hard-pressed not to be affected by the sight of so many naked bodies.”

The woman throws back her head and laughs. She picks up the steaming cup of coffee, takes a sip, and places it back down on the man’s back, who moans. Marcus can see the circular tinge of pink on his skin from the heat of it. He swallows.

“I like you, Agent Pike,” she announces, still smiling. “Thank you so much for stopping by to discuss my gallery. I apologize that I had a prior engagement tonight, I’m helping a dear friend with a show.” She sticks out her hand. “I’m Jacqueline.”

Marcus regards her hand warily. He prides himself on being a polite person, but he’d have to step onto the stage, among all of the bodies, to shake it. Eventually, courtesy wins out, and he steps forward to clasp her hand.

“You’re blushing, Agent Pike,” Jacqueline teases.

Finally caught off-guard, Marcus chuckles nervously and breaks eye contact. “When they said you’d be at an exhibition, I had pictured something very different,” he says.

“As you said, art takes different forms for different people,” Jacqueline says with a wink, “depending on your source of inspiration, Agent Pike.”

“Marcus,” he corrects, his face heating even further.

“Marcus,” she croons. “Sweetheart, I can see your… inspiration from here.”

“Ms–Ms. Conrad, I apologize, but I’m here for–”

“I know, I know,” Jacqueline interrupts. “We’re taking a little break in five,” she says, patting her chair’s butt affectionately. “And we can talk about the theft. Until then, why don’t you grab a refreshment and enjoy the exhibition, hmm?”

Marcus obeys, grabbing a little glass of punch from the refreshments table and keeping his expression aloof as he studies another exhibition: a curvaceous woman with massive breasts, draped in coats and holding an umbrella. The placard in front of her reads ‘Coat Rack,’ and a small, amused smile spreads across her face as she watches Marcus get the pun. 

Despite his best efforts, Marcus can’t help but glance back at Jacqueline. He watches as she murmurs something to the man she’s sitting on, stroking his hair with a small smile as he answers. Marcus can’t hear the exchange, but he can’t help but notice that the man’s cock is rock hard–flushed and weeping with how much he likes his predicament. His own cock twitches with sympathy. There is something inexplicably appealing about being used like that. Marcus tries–and fails–not to think about being in the other man’s place, feeling fingers gently stroking his hair as he just drifts, not needing to pay attention to deadlines or meetings or the endless string of unread emails in his inbox, but simply existing with another person.

“Marcus,” calls a voice over his shoulder, and he suppresses a shiver. 

"Ms. Conrad," he says, a little too brightly. He spins, plastering his agreeable ‘Friendly Agent’ smile on his face, the one that gets him through more doors than it really should. 

Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t–

“Isn’t Oliver brilliant?” she gushes. “He’s been working on this exhibition for quite some time. He’s designed every scene personally.”

“Oh,” Marcus says, nodding his head. “Right.” 

Play it cool, play it–

“Most people, when they see a new kink for the first time, are either disgusted right away, or they’re completely intrigued. They might not realize it right at that moment, but once it stews for a few days, it starts to eat at them, and they want to see more.”

“Is that right?” Marcus comments, his voice sounding just a little too high-pitched to be normal. “Ms. Conrad–”

“Jacqueline, please.”

“Jacqueline, I–the theft, were you aware of any threats to your gallery? Perhaps any attention from conservative groups, or–”

“I’m going to give you a choice,” Jacqueline interrupts. “We can discuss our business here, and you can leave, and I won’t bother you again until the conclusion of the case. Or,” she continues, leaning in closer, “you can come to my apartment and we can discuss the case–or anything else you’d like to talk about–in private.”

The conflicting offers bounce around in Marcus’s head. One the one hand, he stays here at this gallery, asks his questions, and leaves. On the other hand… well, he’s not quite sure what will happen if he follows this beautiful woman home, but she’s looking at him as if she understands exactly what is on his mind tonight. Say yes, his brain urges. Say yes and go home with her. Say yes and let go for one fucking night.

“Sure,” Marcus finally agrees. “We can discuss the–the case in private.”

Jacqueline purses her lips, her eyebrows drawing up in the middle, as if she’s looking at a very cute puppy. “You are too cute for words, you know that?”

Marcus’s eyebrows raise in surprise at her words. He isn’t sure what to say in response–he’s fine at taking compliments surrounding the job, but about him? He feels as if he’s been knocked off-balance by the praise.

Jacqueline palms his cheek. “You are,” she insists. “Poor thing. Come home with me, honey. I’ll make you feel good.”

Marcus follows her home in a daze. When she hands him a glass of wine at her apartment, she deliberately lets their fingers touch, and the light caress sends him down a path of no return–he will do whatever this woman asks of him tonight, and he knows it. 

“Why don’t you tell me what you liked about the exhibition,” Jacqueline murmurs in Marcus’s ear as he takes his first sip of wine, and he suppresses a shiver.

“I like, uh–” Marcus trails off, genuinely thinking of a good answer. Why did the exhibition speak to him, make his cock stiff in his pants when he was supposed to be there for the job?  “”I like–” he swallows thickly “–I like how someone can just be… static, I guess, if that makes any sense? LIke, just to uh, have the self-control to not move a muscle while–” he clears his throat. “In a weird way, it’s almost about being useful,” he continues, more quietly. “Being able to be there in a way that–that just involves being there, and nothing else.”

Jacqueline nods, as if the words coming out of his mouth are something more than gibberish. Her open expression prompts him to go on.

“I don’t want to think,” Marcus admits quietly. “I overthink everything. Work, relationships, everything. I try so hard to be everything to everyone. I’m so fucking tired of thinking.”

Jacqueline nods, her eyes full of understanding. She gets it. She sees him. 

“Tell you what,” Jacqueline says with a little smile. “I had to put on way too much makeup for this silly show. I’m going to take it all off and go through a little skincare routine. If you’re really interested, why don’t we take this elsewhere, and you can take off all of your clothes for me and get on your hands and knees in front of the sink.”

For a harrowing, endless moment, Marcus doesn’t move. He can’t. He feels stuck to the spot, legs glued to the ground by the weight of Jacqueline’s request. Marcus is always in control. Marcus is the one who gives in every relationship. Marcus is the strong one, the person with his head on his shoulders, feet planted firmly on the ground. 

What if he didn’t need to be?

Jacqueline’s eyes sparkle when Marcus’s hands finally move to loosen his tie.

Layer by layer, Marcus lays himself bare for her. He strips off his persona–the confident, collected Agent who allows every blow to glance off his shoulders without faltering, no matter how devastating. He shrugs off his shirt in the same way he’d had to shrug off his divorce, his broken engagement. He unbuckles his belt and steps out of his pants, the same way he’s stepped away from every bad thing that’s ever happened in his life, walking away with his chin up and never truly facing any of them. Few people would ever know that underneath it all, he’s a vulnerable man. 

With his heart in his throat, Marcus slides his boxers down, shedding his last barrier. Jacqueline watches the entire time, but it isn’t until he’s fully bare that she smiles kindly and steps in close to him, palming his cheek. 

“You’re a beautiful man,” she tells him softly. 

Marcus mumbles a low thank you, and Jacqueline’s smile widens. His breath stutters as he starts to walk over to the vanity, but he’s stopped with her gentle fingers on his forearm.

“Hang on,” Jacqueline says. “I want you to think of a word–something you don’t normally say in regular conversation. If at any time you feel uncomfortable in the slightest, you say that word, and we stop. Okay?”

A safeword. She’s asking for a safeword. Marcus casts his eyes around and lands on a classic painting of waterlilies hanging near the sink. 

“Uhh, Monet,” Marcus answers awkwardly.

Jacqueline smiles. “That’s perfect, honey.” She nods in the direction of the vanity. “Go ahead.”

“Monet,” Marcus immediately says, and she cocks her head to the side in confusion. “I–can I–may I kiss you?” he asks quietly. 

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Jacqueline breathes. “Yes, honey. Of course.”

Marcus is torn between capturing her lips gently with his and striding forward and crushing her against him. In the end, he does a mixture of both, taking her face in his hands and slotting his mouth against hers with a fervor unbefitting of what has thus far been a strange, kinky one-night stand.

Jacqueline opens to him willingly when his tongue seeks entrance, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging lightly on the strands. It's then that she takes charge of the kiss, angling Marcus’s head ever so slightly, and he’s all too happy to let her. He gives her everything he has to give, until she comes up for air, breathing heavily–something that gives him far too much satisfaction.

"You're trouble, aren't you?" Jacqueline teases against his lips. 

"I usually am," Marcus agrees, a playful smile coloring his words. 

"What are we going to do with you, hmm?" 

"I'm sure you already have plenty of ideas," Marcus says with a breathless laugh.

"I have a few," Jacqueline murmurs. She runs her hands down the planes of his chest appreciatively. "Right now, I want to see this big, strong man on his knees."

Marcus had thought it would be harder to take his place on his hands and knees. He had thought his ego might protest at the last second, that when faced with the reality of this bizarre situation he’d found himself in, he’d come to his senses and question the sanity of being, of all things, a fucking chair for a woman he’d just met. 

In reality, none of that crosses Marcus’s mind. It’s anticlimactic, when he finds himself on the floor in front of Jacqueline’s bathroom sink. He’s achingly hard for having done nothing but kiss her. He finds it’s the anticipation that’s making him so incredibly aroused–the idea that anything could happen tonight, and that he has absolutely no idea what to expect from this. ‘Furniture kink’ has never once crossed his mind as a thing anyone would do, much less him, but when Jacqueline sits in the middle of his back and reaches down to reassuringly stroke his cheek, it all feels so natural. Like it’s a normal thing he does with his partners.

“So, Agent Pike,” Jacqueline says with a playful seriousness as she goes about her routine. “What made you want to be an art detective?”

Marcus huffs a laugh. “Flunked out of art school,” he answers.

Jacqueline laughs above him. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m really not.”

“So you aren’t making it as an artist,” she says, “and that makes you think, ‘fuck it, I’m joining the FBI?’”

“Well, it was–” Marcus shakes his head, reminiscing. “It was on a bulletin board outside of the lecture hall. It was becoming clear that I was not going to make a living otherwise, and it sounded interesting.”

“Did you always like it?” Jacqueline asks quietly.

“Being in Art Crimes? Yeah,” Marcus answers truthfully. “It was everything that was missing in my life.”

Jacqueline’s breath catches. “And is anything missing now?” she asks, a knowing timbre to her voice. 

“Well,” Marcus chuckles self-deprecatingly. “Not with the job, at least.”

“Oh, honey,” she tuts, but it’s not condescending, it’s empathetic. Marcus stiffens slightly as he feels Jacqueline’s hand gently stroke his hair back from his forehead. “You’re doing so well, you know that?”

To Marcus’s humiliation, a genuine whimper falls from his lips at her quiet praise.

Jacqueline giggles softly. “You are,” she insists. Her fingers card through his hair as her hand moves down the back of his neck to rest on his shoulders. “You have wide shoulders,” she observes. 

“Yeah?” Marcus asks.

“Very,” she murmurs appreciatively. “So thick.” 

Marcus watches out of the corner of his eye as Jacqueline removes the last of her makeup. She had been beautiful with it, and she’s just as beautiful without. She picks up a bottle of lotion and puts a little dot on her finger. 

"You're doing so well," Jacqueline says again. "You're very still."

Marcus had been desperately trying not to move a muscle the entire time, wanting to do a good job, and he finds himself preening under her soft praise. His last partner had never really complimented him for simply… being him. All his life, he was always praised for what he gave to other people, so he gave and gave and gave and gave–and of course, everyone took.

When Marcus had first walked into that exhibition and discovered an as-of-yet unexplored territory, he had assumed that playing these roles would be punishing or stern–not that he'd be sitting and making comfortable conversation, almost like a date. Except he's naked, being used as a chair, and his cock has never been this hard.

“I didn’t expect it to be like… this,” Marcus says quietly, breaking the silence.

“What did you expect?” Jacqueline asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“More… serious, I guess?”

She laughs happily. “Don’t let those faux-romance novels fool you,” she says. “Kink is supposed to be fun. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“I’ve never really thought about it that way,” Marcus confesses.

“Thinking about kinky stuff a lot, are you, Agent Pike?”

It’s his turn to laugh. “I do have an office full of genitalia, at the moment.” 

Jacqueline laughs again and sets a little container full of eye cream down on the counter with finality. “There,” she says. “All done.” 

“Yeah?” Marcus perks up. That… that was it?

“Yeah,” Jacqueline repeats, stroking his hair again. “You did a good job, honey.”

Marcus hums in appreciation, but she continues.

“I’d like to give you a reward, for being so good for me,” she says. 

“Oh,” Marcus says, dumbly. 

“You’re rock hard,” Jacqueline observes wryly.

“I did notice,” he answers teasingly, matching her deadpan tone.

“Behave,” she warns, sliding off of his back and kneeling beside him. “Or you don’t get your reward.”

“Sorry,” Marcus says automatically. 

“You’re cheeky,” Jacqueline says with a smile. “I like that.”

Marcus smiles to himself but doesn’t respond again. Is it too soon to fall in love with this woman?

“I’d like you to stay exactly as you are,” Jacqueline instructs. “No moving. And I’m going to stroke this pretty cock until you cum all over my floor, right where you are. Does that sound like a nice reward?” 

“Yes,” Marcus answers immediately, not bothering to hide his desperation from her. Too soon or not, he’s gone. 

Jacqueline hums in amusement, and reaches out to grasp his weeping cock. 

“Fuck,” Marcus hisses, dropping his head between his shoulders in relief. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh,” she soothes. “You don’t need to say anything,” she murmurs. “You don’t need to move. Just feel it, okay? Just focus on how good it feels.”

Jacqueline starts to stroke him up and down, and Marcus can only close his eyes and whimper pitifully at her touch.

“That’s it,” she encourages him. “You don’t need to do anything else. No moving, no talking, just me, touching this perfect cock until you turn inside-out for me.”

Marcus groans at her filthiness. No one has ever talked to him like this, and it’s a revelation. 

“It’s so big,” she pouts. “Next time I’m going to take advantage of that and sit on it, instead,” she promises. “What do you think about that?”

“Yes,” Marcus exhales. “Please.” 

“I wouldn’t let you cum for quite a while,” Jacqueline warns him. “I’m going easy on you tonight.”

“Fine,” Marcus says immediately. “Whatever you want.” He finds that he means it–he’s putty in her hands. Anything she’d ask, he’d do in a heartbeat.

“Ohh, I like you,” Jacqueline breathes. “Yes, you’re incredible. Cum for me, I wanna see what you look like.”

Marcus nods thickly. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Gonna–”

“Shh,” Jacqueline reminds him. “Stay still, remember? Right now, you’re mine to use.”

The statement causes everything to draw up tight. With barely any warning at all, Marcus cums with a sharp inhale, forcing himself to stay still as he spills over her knuckles, coating the floor with ropes of his spend.

"Oh, honey," Jacqueline murmurs. "That was a lot, huh? You are pent up."

Marcus laughs breathlessly. "Been–Jesus–been a rough couple of months."

"I'd like to hear about it," Jacqueline says quietly, rubbing up and down his back as he comes down. "Not tonight–but if you're interested in doing this again, I'd like you to tell me about it while we do a scene," she explains. "Honestly, it may help you let some of it go."

"Oh," Marcus exclaims softly. "I–yeah, I want that."

Jacqueline laughs quietly. "Good," she whispers. "I think you're cute, and sexy, and fun,  and I'd love to get to know you a little better."

"Same," Marcus murmurs, smiling at the absurdity of asking to get to know someone better while naked, on his knees, his cum splattered on the floor beneath him. 

As if she's reading his mind, Jacqueline says, "You know, if we'd been doing this for a little while, I'd make you lick it up for me."

Marcus's brain goes fuzzy at her words, and he lets out an obscene noise, somewhere in between a whine and a moan. The image of him licking his own cum off of her floor, combined with the prospect that she wants to do this again is causing him to short-circuit.

Jacqueline laughs at the broken sound. "Oh, you like that idea, huh? You want to clean up your mess for me?"

"Do just about anything for you right now," Marcus says with a wry grin.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?" Jacqueline asks.

Marcus shakes his head. "No."

She dips her finger in it and brings a little drop to his lips. He sucks it into his mouth, the light salt of her skin combining with the slightly bitter taste of him on his tongue. 

"We're going to put a pin in that," Jacqueline is saying, "because this is the first time you've ever been a sub, and you're probably feeling a bit vulnerable, and I don't want to go too far before you're ready." She grabs a wad of toilet paper and wipes it up before Marcus can protest. "Sit up for me, honey."

Marcus rises to his knees and is able to look, really look at Jacqueline for the first time since getting down on the floor for her. She's right–he is feeling vulnerable, although he isn't entirely comfortable showing it just yet. But her eyes are warm and kind, and her expression is open and unguarded, and he finds himself already wanting more of this. It's not just her–it's everything, everything they've done tonight, the way he was finally given permission to just slow down for a moment, to do nothing. 

"You can kiss me again," Jacqueline teases with a glint in her eye.

Marcus doesn't need to be told twice.

*

[canyouhearthelight]

Nihilus Rex Chapter 2: Our Own Reasons

Chapter 2, let's gooo!

Even numbered chapters will be from Lash's perspective, while odd numbered chapters are from Nils'. Lash is super fun to write, by the way. @baelpenrose agrees.

That being said, the same trigger warnings apply in this chapter, along with one for a shouting match between Lash and her parents that is very rooted in the time this takes place (alternate 2017, but not too alternate). So, additional warnings for mentions of possible rape, possible hate crimes, references to mass shootings, and references to sexist legislation.

I solemnly swear, though, the content in this chapter is nowhere near as bad as scrolling through headlines.

“Looks like a girl, but she’s a flame

So bright, she can burn your eyes

Better look the other way

You can try, but you’ll never forget her name”

“Girl on Fire”    Alicia Keys

Lash

            “Dammit!” I slammed the laptop closed with one hand and ripped my headset off with the other. 

“Language!” my mother scolded automatically from barely ten feet outside my bedroom door.

I couldn’t even try to care. Despite promising me for months and begging for my help for nearly as long, Brayden had flaked out on me.  Again.  And this time he had stolen my work - the countless hours I had spent drafting graphics and small animations, the temp voice track I had laid down, all gone with nothing to show for it.

The charity existed, and Brayden had a contract to do a commission for some outreach.  I had been smart enough to at least do that much research. After all, vanishing halfway through a project was nothing new when it came to dealing with him, and it would have been far from the first time that I had filled in once I completed everything, just so I could get paid.  Hell, the chance of not having to split the money had been the only reason I had agreed to it this time.

Turns out, he had the same idea.

Three sharp knocks on my door jarred me out of my anger. “You need to come eat, your father is home,” Mom stated sternly before walking away.

There were no second chances with manners when it came to my parents, so I threw myself from my chair and forced some semblance of composure on myself before pulling the door open.  The attempt had been in vain, apparently, because even before he had his shoes off, Baba called me out on it. “One day, you will listen to me and stop with this foolish art and cartoons,” he waved in half-hearted anger. “Go to university and get a real degree, a real job.”

“I could always marry well,” I argued churlishly, too angry about Brayden to even go through the rote script of well-worn rebellion.

The harsh laughter my mother barked in my direction hit me like a knife in the chest. “And how will you marry someone to take care of you and your childishness?” she scoffed. “With all the black and the scowling… If you can draw pretty girls, draw yourself pretty and behave like one.”

The emotions I had barely restrained before stepping out of my room reared toward them, striking as viciously as I could. “You want me to dress up, make myself up, and flatter boys? Is that how you married Baba? Being pretty and being stuck with a life of disappointment?” I batted my eyelashes and held my hands under my chin. “Oh, Charles, you are so witty! Tell me again how poor people should starve and women should do nothing but make babies, it’s so funny!” A movement from my father redirected my words before I could stop myself. “And you! What good is a degree going to do me, now! You say that Grandma and Grandpa came here to be free, so you could have an education. You have one! It didn’t make you any whiter or any richer, and you are still spit on wherever you go for being the child of immigrants.”

A sharp bang punctuated my mother’s palm hitting the table, jostling the steaming dish in the middle. “You will not speak to your parents like one of those rich girls you go to school with! There is food on this table and in your belly, you waste your life drawing cartoons and tap-tapping away in your room that your father pays for. There are clothes on your back and no war zone to go to school through. You are allowed and expected to go to school!”

“A school where I will be shot!” I screamed. “If I am not shot for being brown, or raped for being brown, I will be shot because some crazy person decided a school or a theatre, or a mosque I don’t even attend was a fine target!”

“Women do not go to mosque,” my father started to correct.

“Do you think they know that!?” I was in borderline hysterics and not even the smell of my mother’s cooking could keep me in the apartment for a moment longer. “A Sikh temple was shot. Sikhs. For being the wrong color and for ignorance. That doesn’t even count the fact that I am a woman and every day I see mine and Mama’s rights peeled away layer by layer.” I stomped to the door and snatched the first jacket I touched.  “I need to calm down.”  Without even waiting for their response I slammed the door behind me and started walking.

My feet automatically knew where I was going, which was good because I was too angry and in my head to decide. I made it maybe half a mile before I had to peel the jacket off and carry it, since the weather was warm and sunny for once. The entire time, I was mentally swearing at everyone in my life. Brayden for stealing my work - as far as I was concerned, he was dead to me. I hated nothing more than a thief. My parents for their well-intentioned abuse.  I knew they meant well, but as the saying went, “The road to hell” and all that. I had read somewhere once about the kind eyes of people who would burn witches to save their souls - that was my parents.

I made it to my quiet place, eventually.  Right where the road crossed over one of the rivers, the bridge had just enough lip to sit on comfortably, and the road wasn’t busy enough for the exhaust to bother me. Stopping for a moment, I tied the spare jacket around my waist to leave my hands free, and in the pause between songs in my earbuds, I heard shouting in the distance. Make sure to sit on the other side of a support, I noted mentally, trying to avoid the same trouble my parents seemed so oblivious to. Finally settling on “Whiplash Recovery” by ill-esha, I hummed quietly and crept to my spot. It took some careful maneuvering, but through practice I was finally seated over the rushing sound of the river, music pounding thoughts out of my head until I was consumed in nature and noise, unable to think.

Slowly, I could feel my blood pressure come down, and the less I tried to poke at my fight with my parents the better I felt.  Images and colors drifted through my head as the music cycled and I tried to imagine how I would do a video to each. Not that I would ever get a chance, but it helped keep my creativity flowing and soothed the nagging doubts in the back of my head.  It was just after a Charlotte Sometimes song that a crunch sounded behind me, entirely too close.

I froze, immediately ashamed to be a sitting target while praying that it was just someone driving by, or an animal.

“Don’t do it! Please!” The voice was pleading, begging almost. 

I was confused, however.  I had been sitting and minding my own business, like I wish he would do. “What’s that?”

“Don’t…don’t jump, please.” His voice was softer, almost ragged. “Please don’t jump. Someone…someone needs you. Someone’s world would be worse without you. And someone would be left every day wondering what they could have done differently to keep you with them.”

What in the hell is he talking about? I thought, slowly forcing my head to turn towards the voice. What I saw was a man, maybe a few years older than me.  His clothes were expensive, but torn and bloody from what looked like a fresh ass-whipping.  If nothing else, the fact that he was more bleeding than bruised gave that away. But the clothes were somber and too nice for work or daily wear, so something said ‘funeral’.  “Got a feeling you know something about that.”

“Just came from a funeral.” Bingo.  “I know everything about that.” At least here, he was more confident, if his tone was anything to go by.

“Heh. Bet.” I glanced back toward the apartment, judging how far I would have to run if he decided to be less nice than he was currently. “So what’s your name?”

“Nils. Nils Andover. Yours?”

“Lash,” I responded impulsively. Short, to the point, and giving nothing away, it was the handle I used in chatrooms and on social media. My acting name, essentially.

“Last name?”

 Yeah, not happening. Not until I knew if he was safe, even if he looked like I could take him with one hand. “Not telling someone I just met. Even if I like you. But I have to admit, you definitely have a…perspective on things.” That was a polite way to say the guy who just tried to talk me out of a non-existent suicide attempt looked weird and interesting, right? And yeah, he was kind of charming in a weird, awkward way.  “What uh…what happened to you? Bad enough you’re blaming yourself, the dead guy’s other family blame you, too?”

            “Dead girl. And she’s a friend. And no, her family isn’t blaming me. What are you talking about?”

I waved a hand at the split lip and eyebrow before gesturing at the rips in a suit I couldn’t even imagine ever affording.. “Well either you didn’t come straight from the funeral or someone there was playing the blame game.”

            The guy - Nils, apparently - bit his lip before seeming to think better of it. “Heh…Yeah. Uh. Saw some of those QAnon dicks waving signs, kinda snapped.”

Oh, I thought. He’s charming and dumb. Poor guy probably weighed less than my sound gear.

He kept talking, kind of rushing out the explanation. “My friend killed herself because of debt, and because she had to drop out of her program to take care of a sick family member so she wasn’t going to even like, get to have the future she’d gone through so much for. So something about a bunch of jackasses who were just screaming and braying about how evil elites control the world and drink the blood of the innocent except these stupid bastards are huffing enough glue to mean “Jews” when they say “elites” and mean the “blood drinking” bit literally…I kinda. Snapped. Started screaming at them. Got the shit kicked out of me.”

He looked a bit embarrassed, but it was honestly kind of endearing that he had at least tried to fight a bunch of fucknuckle rejects from the alt-right pipeline over the same things I had been shouting at my own parents roughly an hour ago.

 “Anyway. Listen to me talk about myself. What were you doing up here?” He seemed to realize how the story sounded, because he was rubbing one palm against his pant leg and trying to shove the other in a pocket.

I cut him some slack and actually gave a real answer. “Just kinda thinking about things. Someone I trusted let me down - wasn’t worth dying over, but scared me pretty badly. Came up here to clear my head. A lot of things fell through, and now I’m kinda…looking for something new to be after. Something new to do.”

“Wish I could help. But I mean…” Nils paused. “I don’t know. What do you do?”

“Mostly I’m an artist. Sometimes do some light voice acting for a friend of mine - or…did. Thing was, he and I had a falling out. Really bad one. We were supposed to be doing this big project for something I thought we both believed in but…” I shrugged with one shoulder, trying to play it off as less of a big deal than it was. “He bailed, and we said some things to each other I can’t take back.” When did I start talking about my parents, I wondered, mortified.

Nils paused. He seemed to figure out  that I didn’t want to say more, and it looked like he was okay with that. After all, he hadn’t told me much about himself, just his friend and the state of the country. But something piqued his curiosity, since his face got really thoughtful for a second before he started talking carefully, like it was a code he was testing.  “If I say I have something I want to do, and I’d love to see what you do, would you believe me?”

I held out a hand, curious. “What’s your project?” He couldn’t be any worse than working with Brayden.  If nothing else, I was pretty sure I could poison Nils with my cooking.

Nils paused, like he was choosing his words carefully.  Fair enough. It only made me like him more.  Finally, he spoke. “Something that might help some other people. Still kinda trying to work on all of it. I’d kinda like to hear more about your project first, maybe see if we can combine them? Maybe for some community outreach?”

So, literally like what I had just done. Nothing illegal, which unfortunately paid better, but beggars can’t be choosy, right? I flashed my best smile. “Alright. Give me your number and stay in touch. Show me you can do something interesting. And I’ll send you some of my work, see what you think.” 

Nils gave me the number, letting me text him first before sending one back to prove he hadn’t lied. He smiled when my phone buzzed, and I approved his caution - I could have spoofed a number, but something told me not to. 

“We good to get off the bridge?” he asked, glancing around.

I looked back toward the apartment. Mama told me I’d never find a rich white boy, and here the universe just handed one over.  She didn’t need to know it was professional… I had lied about plenty, this would be a breeze.

“Yeah. We are.”

[ireallyamabear]

so i've been slowly watching Elementary season 6 and as I said I remembered the cases as being unbelievably stupid so here's my notes on the first 6 episodes.... spoilers for that seasons. also spoilers: I might have been too harsh on the season, but when it gets bad it gets BAD:

episode 1: An Infinite Capacity for Taking Pains

the case with the sex tapes is just utterly forgettable, but not offensive as a set up. tbh i already forgot if the murderer was the husband or the brother in the end… did they cast two people that look alike on purpose? Watson is so sweet in this episode, though. As far as I remember the whole traumatic brain injury thing gets resolved pretty easily and I think I was annoyed with that? I’ll have to track that. AND the set up with the serial killer! I totally forgot. Excited for that storyline!

episode 2: Once you’ve ruled out god

this episode is so convoluted they really put everything in it. physicists. lightening laser guns. smuggled plutonium from japan. it gets stolen. watson is the first to register radiation with an APP SHE DOWNLOADED ON HER PHONE. sure. sherlock recognises the gravel stuck on the van as the one used in one specific county in new york state??? i mean i guess he’s always had this kind of knowledge but this is the only clue that puts them on the trail of the robber and it’s just really lazy writing. he has a traumatic brain injury, but he’s still the gravel king. cool. THEN it turns out the robber is a white supremacist and wants to build a dirty bomb. kind of much more believable in 2023 than in 2018, i give them that. a nazi prison gang called PAIN. but they’re not racist they just love money. sherlock deduces that one guy can’t be a terrorist because of how he plays his tabletop campaigns. this is so fucking stupid.

oh wait its a heist?? the diamond thiefs plan was to steal plutonium make it seem like they’re going to explode a wmd just so they can cover their tracks? this is soooo fucking stupid. would have been better if the episode really was about a racist dutch gang. and THEN they have to have a 4 minute scene to explain the plot of the episode to that agent who has a dutch girlfriend (whahahahaaht) (and accuse him, because theres another twist of course) because they needed to explain the plot of the episode bc its so stupid.

i’m in tears this is the WORST episode of Elementary ever, even worse than that stupid case with the magnet in the elevator.

episode 3: Pushing Buttons

the death of the revolutionary war reenactor. actually a good case, not a nail biter but okay. kind of ridiculous that they just believed the daughter couldn’t have contacted some hitman because her commune doesn’t allow cellphones.

the scene where sherlock is in michaels office and he has his murder victims social media page open on the laptop is so good and really pushes the serial killer plot forward.

bargain bin jeff gold blum is a delight. all in all solid; but it does kind of use the same gimmick of old document is destroyed for property rights as the early episode where the old map that shows the border to the reservation … and that episodes case was better imo.

episode 4: Our time is up

watons old therapist gets murdered. starts out very intriguing. of course that one guys office is the only one in the city were you have a convenient balcony to jump from lol. “So you attempted suicide yesterday and … your boss is bringing you work.” Sherlock is so real for that. Anyway, the case is pretty average I’d say. kind of mid.

also, when Lin says to Watson “You’re the most complete person I’ve ever known.” … I love you Lin.

episode 5: Bits and pieces

really good case actually! of course the shock factor is the head Sherlock brings home. there were a lot of suspects but the mystery of first finding out who the dead body was was very good, then the intrigue with the flu infection. also one of those elementary episodes where you learn something, i.e. about the corpse selling industry. best episode case wise so far.

episode 6: Give me the finger

ok this case would be actually really good … IF THEY DIDN#T DO THE NUCLEAR THING AGAIN!! the spectre of stupid episode 2 is hanging over this season. wtf are they on about. i was so distracted that they involved this AGAIN and all those military personnel just freely talk about their classified systems with the cops? so fucking stupid. anyway, i never liked Hannah Gregson as a character and again I have totally forgotten everything about her and Michaels storyline? But I bet next episode is going to be a good one…

also, great shot:

In conclusion: most cases are actually pretty solid, there’s just one that is SO stupid that it overshadowed every other case in my mind for years lol. and the overarching plot line is REALLY good actually!

[greywindys]

Today is going to be such a day of suspense. I didn't mention it earlier, but because I was winning so much at the beginning of the month, I bought a doujin to celebrate. Because it's coming from so far away (Japan), I really have no control over when it will arrive, which I usually try to time because of how prevalent porch pirates are in my area. If you don't know what a porch pirate is, they're an individual who steals recently delivered packages out of a person's mailbox, off their porch, lawn etc. They basically walk around scanning for any unattended package, of which there are a lot because the mail often gets delivered in the afternoon when people are at work. They don't care what's in it, it's just a matter of grabbing as much as they can so they can re-sell it, keep it for themselves, or w/e else they may need it for. I recently had a package looted. The person opened it and grabbed all the clothing inside, but left the empty packaged in my mailbox. Only one article of clothing remained. SO annoying. And deranged, like I really thought my entire package was there until I took it out of my mailbox and found it almost entirely empty 😭.

Anyhow. I'm going to be busy today, and of course! It's the day I check my tracking number and see that it's out for delivery today. I do not want this stolen, but it will have to survives for at least a few hours. One, because I was really looking forward to reading it. Two, because it isn't like I ordered a new sweater or a laptop...this is a doujin lmao. I'm also dying at the image of someone taking it, thinking they'll be able to easily re-sell it only to find out it's just ship art of anime characters. They will have played themselves!...Please don't steal my package, porch pirates, you'll be playing yourself 🥺